In 1990, with Fakebook awaiting release on Bar/None, Georgia and I took a road trip south. We visited friends, saw the Mets lose to the Braves (a game in which the Braves’ pitcher, Derek Lilliquist, hit the only two home runs of his career), and as long as we were in the neighborhood, brought along an acoustic guitar and promoted our forthcoming record at college radio. On this date 14 years ago, we were in Tuscaloosa. Perhaps rattled by the circuitous route we took in search of Archibald’s barbecue, I neglected to note just what station it was we visited, but once there we made ourselves comfortable, playing seven songs. More acoustic action, four years later, as we turned a one-off at Grinnell College into a two-off, performing a low-key set at Chicago’s Rainbo bar. We worked up Harry Burgess’s “Chicago Policeman” to provide a little local color.
