Month: September 2014

I’m sure our September 5, 1997 show in San Francisco extended past midnight, so I’m going to write about it today.  It was our first ever appearance at the Fillmore, and we were thrilled (and a bit nervous).  Virginia Dare opened, followed by David Kilgour (with a rhythm section of Hamish and Lisa Siegel)–the second date of our five-week tour together.  Barbara Manning joined in on David’s set, and David and Hamish played “Point That Thing Somewhere Else” with us during our encore.  All in all, a great night, well worth bending This Day in History rules a bit.

 

A couple of days ago, I described our drive to Phoenix where we were opening for the Sundays in 1990, but said nothing about the show.  That was no accident–it was probably the most dispiriting date of the tour.  It required a lot of chatter to be louder than the multitude of buzzes in the p.a., but that night’s bored audience was up to the challenge.  I can’t pretend we were looking forward to our next booking, our Salt Lake City debut.  But to quote God’s autobiography on tape: I was worse than right, I was wrong.  We got an incredibly enthusiastic reception from the beginning of our set till the end, actually longer.  As Kevin, Wilbo and I broke down our equipment, people continued to clap.  I was beckoned to the front row by someone too insistent to ignore.  “Where’s Georgia?” she wanted to know.  Backstage, I answered, thereby earning me an important mission:  “Tell her she’s better than Sinead.”  I did.  Two years ago, the merchandise company Tannis Root threw a party in Raleigh to celebrate their 25th birthday, 23 years of which we’ve been working together.  Redd Kross were on hand, and so were the Condo Fucks.

 

Kate and Nick write from Ithaca (we’re guessing New York, not Greece): My (now) husband and I fell in love with one another in April of 2001 while we listening to And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out.  When we were married in Geneseo, NY on September 4th, 2005 our first dance was to “Our Way To Fall.”  On September 4th, 2006, I put on my wedding dress and we danced to it for our anniversary.   Whenever we hear it, we stop and dance with one another, and often dance to it on our anniversary.   We made a mix cd for our guests with “Our Way to Fall” on it, and since then two of our friends used that song at their weddings.  The first set of friends played it as the song that got the dancing started in our honor, the second set of friends used the song in their mix cd of all the wedding songs of their married friends as a party favor.   We love your music!  Thank you for how your music has enhanced our lives.  

Four years later, another wedding, another first dance to “Our Way to Fall.”  And another bridegroom named Nick!  From Oakland (presumably California and not New Jersey) comes this email from him and Anna: My wife and I selected your song–“Our Way to Fall”–for our first dance at our wedding on September 4th, 2009. Absolutely fantastic song.

Also on this date, we played with Half Japanese in Nürnberg.  During our encore, Jad sang “Around and Around” and four of his classics with us.  It would really tie things up nicely if “Our Way to Fall” were part of the set, but the show took place in 1995, five years before we wrote the song.

 

 

 

On this date in 2005, we find ourselves as part of the welcoming committee for Columbia University students.  With Katrina on our mind, we open with “It Ain’t My Fault” and encore with “Ooh Poo Pah Doo.”  The following year we’re at Indian Summer in Glasgow, where the destruction is more theatrical.  During the Gang of 4’s set, Andy Gill switches guitars for “Anthrax” and smashes it–we bring home a few of the pieces.   (Reminds me of 1980, when I saw Go4 play with the Buzzcocks at Irving Plaza.  At some point during the Buzzcocks set, John Maher loses a stick, which sails into the audience, right into my hands–I held on to that one for . . . hmm, I wonder if I still have it.)  Later during “He’d Send in the Army,”  Jon King takes a baseball bat to a microwave oven, but we don’t want to be greedy in our souvenir-gathering, so leave that behind.

 

Eleven years ago today, we participated in a benefit at Southpaw in Brooklyn to help Alejandro Escovedo with his medical expenses.  Our acoustic set was heavy on the event-specific covers, especially if Alejandro is a fan of Gary Lewis & the Playboys and Moby Grape.  A reasonable assumption, I’m sure you’ll agree, but just in case we also performed Ernest Tubbs’s “Thanks a Lot,” remembered fondly from Rank & File’s repertoire, and the True Believers’ “The Rain Won’t Help You When It’s Over.”  Some of the details of the night are fuzzy, so I’ll have to guess that we ran out of time before getting to the Nuns’ “Decadent Jew.”

 

On our 1990 tour with the Sundays, we traveled the USA in a cargo van belonging to Bar/None, and rented to their bands for next to nothing.  We numbered five–Georgia, me, upright bassist Wilbo Wright, lead guitarist Kevin Salem and his then-girlfriend Mary Lorson–and had enough room in the back to fit a mattress.  The downside (there’s always a downside) was the van had no insulation whatsoever, just the driver’s side and passenger’s side windows, and an air conditioner that was little more than a rumor.  I have a vivid memory of arriving in Chicago a day in advance of our July 5 show, at a birthday party for Rick Rizzo, having been reduced to puddles by the summer heat.  Fourteen years ago today, we played in San Diego.  Facing five or six hours in the van before the next day’s show in Phoenix, we opted to avoid the 100-plus degree sun and drive overnight.  We actually had the heat on as we traversed the desert, but that didn’t last long.  We got to Phoenix somewhere around 6 a.m., too early to check in to a hotel without avoiding being charged for the night previous (and therefore not in our budget), so went to breakfast where Kevin entertained his punchy tourmates by making the waitress explain every single item on the menu, after which–still needing to kill some time–we drove around in circles in a parking lot.  Eventually we made it to bed, and when we woke up some time in the afternoon, Georgia and I went to see The Freshman at a dollar movie theater in an otherwise-abandoned shopping center, shades of Over the Edge–which remains one of the best movie-going experiences of my life.