Tomorrow at Rotture. Probably go on at 10pm, I hear there will be a BBQ. $5 at the door starts @ 7pm.

My Life as a Vagabond

I finally was able to catch up on some sleep after this last weeks tour. I already kind of miss the road. I’ve been getting the itch for the nomadic life for a while now, and this only gave me a taste of what I hope to more of in the future. I actually didn’t mind the desert, L.A. was a nice change of pace for me, and the Joshua Tree National park is something that inspires the mind. Kirk wrote a pretty good summary of the tour, so I thought I’d pass that along for your enjoyment.

Day 1
--------
11:30 p.m. - head out of Portland towards San Francisco

1:00 a.m - turn back after Aaron realizes he forgot his anti-fungal vag medicine; I get upset then fall asleep sucking my thumb.

6:00 a.m - cross California border where they ask if we have any fruits in the car. Ryan replies to the guard "only me sweetie".


7:00 a.m. – get to Weed, California before we realize that no one brought a pipe. MacGyver one out of a red bull can.

2:30 p.m. - check-in at shitty hotel. we suspect there is either a) a dead hooker lodged in the bed or b) rubber fists and dildos covered in hair & hair jelly under the bed... (b) is confirmed.

2:30-6:00 p.m. - Ryan tries to get some z's while me and Aaron wander through the tenderloin admiring the hobo's yelling across the street at each other. Jameson bottle #1 is purchased. beers at Kimo's are drank before walking back to the hotel.

6:30 p.m. - get to Thee Parkside to load-in. Wayne meets us at the venue after flying in to SF. good thing his doctor wrote him an excuse letter although we aren’t sure that restless-leg-syndrome is a real affliction. talk to Jason and Rafa from Black Cobra for a bit. Shawn the promoter is rad as fuck and helps us load-in and secure a parking spot.


8:30 p.m. - ROCK

9:30 p.m.-1:00a.m. – I suspect that Aaron and Ryan are having hallucinations from lack of sleep and too much booze. Ryan and Wayne decide to walk back to the hotel (a couple miles away), leaving me to babysit Aaron who is giggling like a school-girl. The Gates of Slumber, Slough Feg & Black Cobra kick ass and the crowd is really good for a tuesday night. we talk about how Mike Scalzi is the best frontman we have ever seen on the way home.

1:30 a.m.-2:30a.m. – back at the hotel, Jameson is ingested, and much cigs/weed smoked. sleep.

Day 2
--------
8:30 a.m. – wake up and wander down the street for coffee. no parking ticket is issued on the truck.

9:00 a.m. – get back to the hotel and promptly pour some Jameson in my coffee and watch muted telemundo while the others sleep.

11:00 a.m. – check out of hotel. we decide to head towards the beach and end up taking a nice nature hike to kill time before we head towards Oakland.


2:30 p.m. – enter downtown oakland expecting a war-zone. we are pleasantly surprised when oakland is actually nicer than SF. so much for stereotypes. Wayne checks into his hotel where we promptly stink up his room with two-day old dirty socks and other pungent stenches. shower. I put on a thoughtful face then pass out in the corner.


5:00 p.m. – Wayne analyzes the bible in the hotel room. We flip through Revelations for lyric ideas for the next record.


8:00 p.m. – get to Stork Club. cool little venue with a lot of character. unfortunately there seems to be no food around this part of town. Wayne & I wander into a Korean market that has some bizarre edible sea creatures in it…still hungry.


10:30 p.m. – ROCK

11:00 p.m-2:00 a.m. – hang out with old friends Jason and Johann and meet some rad new folks as well. Oakland weed is good and exacerbates my mild drunkenness. the bands are all really rad.

2:30 a.m. – finally find parking and crash out at lost machine’s apartment. sleep.

Day 3
---------
10 a.m. – wake up and go pick up Wayne from his hotel. I look like Tina Turner after Ike whooped the shit out of her. we promptly hit the road towards LA.


2 p.m. – enter the valley as it starts to heat up. with no a/c in the truck we all decide to pull over and put our bathing suits on. Ryan is already complaining that his fair skin is sizzling and reminds us that he was meant to live in a bog in northern Ireland. This part of California is a dry, deserted place and seems to go on forever.




4:30 p.m. – pass over the grapevine into LA. surprisingly the weather cools down and is mild, although the smog is so thick you don’t even have to smoke cigarettes to get your poison for the day.


5:30 p.m. – check into hotel and take much needed showers. Admire the bar and grill across the abandoned dirt lot from our hotel called “The Happy Ending”. Listen to a recording of our set from the night before. I sound like a stuck pig and the drums sound like Quiet Riot.


7:30 p.m. – head towards the venue. not realizing we are on Hollywood Blvd. we run into the A-Team movie premier and a traffic clusterfuck. jokes about Mr. T and penises exchanged. I spot the “7up guy” and Aaron insists he spots “Bad Guy #4” from Lethal Weapon walking along the street.


8:00 p.m. – arrive at The Relax Bar. Dan, Ryan, Ricky & Phil from Earsplitters greet us in the parking lot and help load our gear in. meet Eddie Solis from It’s Casual who books the venue; super nice fellow. stage is small but inviting and beers are $6. unfortunately, we find out it doesn’t have a full bar and ryan starts to get the shakes.

8:30 p.m. – Jameson bottle #2 is purchased by our new friend Ryan Earsplitters at the local Rite-Aid. I lament that Portland should also sell hard liquor at the local convenience store. We decide the best place to hide it is in the back corner of the parking lot next to some bum poo. I drink a $6 MGD, fill the bottle with Jameson and start passing it around.

11:00 p.m – ROCK


11:30 p.m-2:00 a.m. – meet some more awesome folks. bands are all really good again. Phil, part of the Earsplitters co-op is starting to make no sense and we get the impression he might be blackout drunk. He disappears and passes out next to Dan’s car.

2:15 a.m. – eat at a wonderful 50’s diner called “Swingers”. Aaron’s crazy friend shows up wearing no shirt, Ziggy Stardust makeup and a Coca-Cola cumberbun.

3:45 a.m. – park on Sunset Blvd. sleep.

Day 4
---------
7:00 a.m. – wake up to park the truck and trailer in the hotel parking lot. still no ticket yet.

12 p.m. – get on the road towards Vegas. The Mojave is unforgiving and gives us all farmers tans. It also doesn’t help that wayne rarely goes over 65 mph when he drives. 111 degrees.

5:00 p.m. – arrive in Vegas just in time for rush hour. still 111 degrees. hot enough that every breath you take feels like you are being suffocated. fuck my car for the a/c not working.

6:00 p.m. – check into Fiesta Casino, not too far from the venue. we immediately head for the pool.


7:30 p.m. – get dinner at the “award-winning” mexican restaurant inside the casino. It is immediately clear that this “award” is for shittiness and the magazine which gave the “award” is owned by the casino. I complain to the manager. meal comped.

8:00 p.m. – Bushmills bottle #1 is bought inside the scariest Wal-Mart i’ve ever been in.

9:00 p.m.-2 a.m. – meandered around the casino losing $20 at blackjack in about 2 minutes flat. Me and Ryan polished off the bottle of Bushmill’s quickly. Meet up with Wayne and his brother Chuck who flew in from Boston. many weak drinks later, me and Ryan wander back to the Fiesto where “Guns n’ Hoses” is playing. worst tribute band name ever.

2:30 a.m. – run into some nice folks that are going to the Doom in June fest the next day. Go up to there room and smoke out and shoot the shit for a minute.

3:00 a.m. – sleep.

Day 5
----------
10:00 a.m. – wake up and go to breakfast at Denny’s in the casino. while I’m gone a hooker knocks on our door and asks Ryan if he ordered a girl. He says no, then starts puking from his hangover.

12:30 a.m. – head to venue for load-in at 1. hot as a motherfucker. venue reminds me of a venue I played at long ago who’s name eludes me. we are using a shared backline which poses a lot of problems for us.

3:40 p.m. – ROCK

4:00 p.m.-10:00 p.m. – hang out and watch the other bands play. really impressed by a few of them. meet quite a few rad people. drinking beer by the pitcher now.

Flat-Out High Speed Burn To Vegas

Well, in less than two weeks, the band and myself will be departing on a west coast tour with no air conditioning. San Francisco, Oakland, L.A., Las Vegas, and who knows, maybe San Diego. Not looking forward to the 8-9am push off from Portland to San Francisco on the first day, but after that, things should be much smoother. We’re all excited to see and play with Slough Feg again; like little wide eyed children awaiting to hear more dragon stories . We get to play with them twice this time around. The culmination and perhaps high point of the tour might be the Doom Festival in Las Vegas on June 5th. I hope to not spend too much time in Vegas. I can easily see myself going into a hazy Fear and Loathing trip if left there alone for too long. Ending in a “flat-out high speed burn through Baker and Barstow and Berdoo. Then onto the Hollywood Freeway, and straight on into frantic oblivion. Safety. Obscurity. Just another freak, in the freak kingdom.” Lets hope the van makes it through the desert at least. Hope to see some old friends along this road burn.




Also, we found a show review from a guy who runs a real cool music site called seattlerockguy.com. That was a good time up in Seattle. I would love to play there more often. The Capital Hill neighborhood on a weekend night is some of the craziest shit I’ve seen in a long time. Trannies, hot dog vendors, drunk college chicks, metalheads, and homeless Jamacan dudes who offer people sips of their beverages, all commingling together. It was a good time. We’ll have to do it again Seattle.

Here’s the review and a somewhat painful stumble through cover of “Going Blind.”
http://www.seattlerockguy.com/2010/05/live-review-madraso-salvador-sandrider.html

Goodbyes

So it comes to an end. Last night we said goodbye to a good friend and someone I’ve had the honor to play music with on and off for the past 12 years really. All the way back from a High School Orchestra sit in and other oddities, to the past three years playing in dives, bars, clubs, and even some festivals. Some great shows, some forgetful ones, some epic ones, some strange ones, but we always had some great parties.


As I’ve learned in recent years, some things can end very anti-climatically. We played a good set. But, the owner didn’t think his club was set for live music. So, the plug got pulled early after the second set and we walked away. Bummer. At least we got to entertain some Marines who just got home and we were able to say “thank you” to them and their service. (Between you and me, my amp was on 0.1 all night till the last song. Then I said “Fuck It,” and cranked it to 11.)

We ended up back at the pad sipping on Permafrost, eating pizza, and laughing. Then we all said our goodbyes, hugged and that was it. Good luck in D.C. Chad, you’re one of the finest Bassist I’ve played with. (And I’ve played with quite a few.)

Best Metal Poster Ever / Party This Thursday

I don’t really have confirmation that this is really happening, or if it just a joke. If you only knew the story behind this poster. I’ll just let you keep that to your own imagination. By far Kirk’s finest work.

I’ll be at a show in Salem this Thursday to welcome some U.S. troops home from Afghanistan. This will also mark the last time I get to play with the Hammer for a while. I’ve been playing with that dude on the Thud Stick off and on since High School. He will be missed. Contact me if you need to know where.

In others news. I broke my slide I’ve had for the past 12 years. R.I.P.


So much excitement lately.






In honor of sexually ambiguous music, here’s a badass Prince performance.

Hey kids, drugs and alcohol are bad.

What once broke up a band, continues to be its bane of its existence. Like so many others before them. I’m use to reading about the junkie who can’t kick to save his life, thus straining his band and more importantly, his life. But this was unfortunate. Too bad. But, life goes on. Sadly you’ll be forgotten. Unfairly too.

News flash to anyone young enough to think the rock star still exists. They died off long ago, and deservedly so. The life of excess has left them in their own self deprecating filth. Record companies won’t front you in advance, and in this instant information age, people need more substance to keep their ADD attention spans focused. Nothing is sadder than a rock dinosaur. I say this lovingly to heroes of mine who still come across sincere or not. Neil Young still rules it. I’m in it for the song. I’ve never have been about much else than that. As a good friend of mine once said,” Compare the long, dull life of a rock star (the real life, not the imaginary one you see on TV) to that of a jazz musician. Jazz musicians traditionally die quite young because they actually managed to consume all the drugs and alcohol rock stars pretend to.

That raises the question: where do jazz musicians find the time to do this? Answer: they spend literally no time massaging their image to be the junkie band. Upholding an image is a big commitment. It's among the greatest thieves of time. And jazz musicians can't be bothered. They spend those hours in study and in chemical euphoria. And they never sit around "working on their sound." And they rarely work full time minimum wage jobs (like fake-popular MySpace band members do). When jazz musicians aren't performing, they're either doing drugs or studying music. And then they die.”

So to wrap it up, try your best every night to keep it together and put on a show for anyone willing to watch. The audience of the willing is becoming a rare breed, but I thank you, whoever you are. You make it worth it, I just hope us “musicians” can make it worthwhile for at least another decade. Kids, really stay off the white drugs and booze. I can tell you for certain, you’ll never catch that “dragon”. If you do have to party like a rock star, then do it after your set.

http://www.angelfire.com/ms2/bigjensen/TheAutopilotDojo/DojoManifesto.html

Seattle

Wow, guess it’s April and there are two back to back shows coming up in two weeks. Salvador will be in Seattle, opening for Van Conner’s ( of the Screaming Trees) band Valis. This is pretty exciting for me since I was a big Screaming Trees fan. Still am. Then, we drive all night/day back home to play Plan B on the east side of Portland. We’ll be playing with The Thornes, P.R.O.B.L.E.M.S & The Black Budget that night. Like always, let me know who wants on the guest list, if you’re too cheap to pay the $5.

June is looking like a week long California tour. We may hit Las Vegas too. Try outs for roadies will be held at our practice space, and the try outs for groupies will be in the back of the white van at the AM/PM full up station off SE Powell this Friday.






























































Here's some slop thrown together. Have fun watching the drunk monkeys.

Red Fang March 12th.

I know only 2 people will read this or care, but this show should be a good show. I’d go even if I wasn’t playing it. The guest list is probably full and it could sell out. So, if you do care to go, get a ticket now or early at the door. Even if the guest list is full, come stop by the green room and watch me make an ass of myself.

$15.00 at the door Friday March 12 2010 at 9 30pm, with Red Fang, The Long and Short Of It, and Salvador. $8.00 advance TicketsWest?

2010 already?

New years is upon use already once again. I guess I can't make promises of what I will accomplish this year but, what I can promise is, no more spinning my wheels and no more grabbing for the carrot that was never there. I will do what I feel meaningful, and memorable, and everything else is a waste of time. I will leave the country for a while this year, and maybe hit the east coast. For one of the first times in my life, I really feel there is little tying me down in one place.

So, as for the BS resolutions I might not keep.

1. I will finally record my own songs. Pay for them, produce them, hire musicians, and put out a piece of plastic no one listens to more than once.

2. I will be healthier and scarier.

3. I will finally get a tattoo from my father.

4. I will continue painting, for I have shamefully ignored it for ten years.

5. I will live another year...........

That is it. Anymore of a person is inhuman. I wouldn't expect the same from you. Drink champagne tonight and have a good time. Above all, take time to stop your routines once and a while. Actually, don't go to work for a while. Fuck em. Jump on that next boxcar and see what you find out about yourself.


Happy New Year.

Love, Lum

The Karaoke Contest...

I’d like to share with you a excerpt of a personal encounter of mine summarized and written by Courtney Jensen. Don't let the word Manifesto scare you.

The writing of our Manifesto, I was provoked by a fairly inspiring episode
in an Asian grocery market. Lum was involved. And when it was over, he wrote me
a letter on a piece of computer paper. Upon receiving it, I was entertained.
Thus, I decided to do you, a reader, a favor and retell the story.

The summary is this: Lum won a karaoke contest.

But he didn't mean to enter. What he meant to do was buy a fish that either
had or didn't have a head at an Asian market. But in addition to buying a fish,
he was accosted by a little Korean grocery clerk.

"Excuse sir, do you sing?"

"Kinda."

She grabbed his arm and tugged him toward a platform ("stage") in the
middle of the store. Still a little confused (and still holding a saran-wrapped
tilapia), the music started.

It was that David Bowie song Ziggy Stardust.

Lum was obviously familiar with this number.

So he switched the tilapia to his left hand, grabbed the mic with his
right, and began his performance. When the song got to the cuss words, he was a
little unsure if he should sing them (being as the "audience" was comprised
mostly of little kids).

He ended up belting them out really loudly (assuming Asian kids don't know
the words but for the melody they make).

After the performance, a child with Down syndrome came up and gave Lum a
hug. A big one.

Lum hugged him back. A medium-sized one. And then the following
conversation took place:

DSK: "Do you wanna have lunch with me?"

Lum: "I can't, I have to go to work."

DSK: "Why?"

Lum: "I need money."

DSK: "Why?"

Lum: "I don't really know."

DSK: "Do you wanna have lunch with me?"

Lum: "I have to go to work."

DSK: "You're mean!"

Leaving for work, Lum was filled with as much clarity as he was pride (none
of either; he was totally confused and embarrassed) but pleased that he'd won
some money with which he could buy some new Dojo equipment.

And I was semi-riveted by the whole episode... and in turn, motivated to
create our manifesto, realizing most underground bands wouldn't be caught dead
at a karaoke contest in a Korean grocery store. And they would excuse their lack
of festivity as a facet of integrity.

And this is just dumb.

Everyone in the world should be caught dead at karaoke contests in all
sorts of venues if it affords them the chance to be a disabled kid's
ten-second-hero. Life is inherently dull and painful and these moments are
interesting enough to be therapeutic.

Visit http://www.autopilotdojo.com/ to read more writings.