Donning our lab coats (and Berkman and Barry in what they call their "Krenner glasses"), my weird-o rock band Iced Ink hit the stage of a venue called The Rox in St. Cloud MN lass night. Was a fun, weird experience. Those that were in attendance were quite responsive, always nice to hear that confused smattering of applause after we hit the last note of a song. I don't know what it's like for a first time listener to hear this stuff, because I write it and play it - so I always know what's around the corner. I reckon to virgin ears it's got to be a little overwhelming. Sort of like a Where's Waldo? picture in the form of music - there's a whole lot of things going on at once for your ears to look at and it takes a few passes before realizing what's going on.
Outside of the hi-octane Minneapplesauce rock and role music, it was pretty low key in all other regards, but a great warm-up for our Uptown show coming up this Tuesday. Not to mention it's always great to play shows with friend's bands - Autonomy is a great bunch of peeps, and I haven't seen the In The Morning blokes in months; some of the nicest doods one could wish to be stuck in a far away bar for 7 hours with. Was great to hang with them again and fill them in on some of the more interesting turns life has taken as of late. (p.s. - I love you too, Sir Chia. and thank you for the energizing head butt; it kept me awake for the drive home)
*****
Not a show goes by where I don't walk away having learned something. Here is what I realized while driving home from the show last night:
I have found my personal Hell on Earth: loading my stuff out of a bar in a busy college town after 2am.
Oh.
My.
GOD.
It was a good block or so that I had to tote my gear to the Pinto after the bar closed and the sidewalks were completely cluttered with hundreds of soused college folk. Lots of people walking with half-bent knees looking like they were trapped in their own little personal tornadoes, swirling all about and whatnot. Horny drunken college boys that all looked the same (flannel shirts, baseball caps, Eminem hair, and white taco sneakers - Chads, as I call them) eyeing up girls that they would be thinking about later that night next to a box of Kleenex, if you know what I'm sayin'. Drunk people getting into cabs. People doing the Technicolor yawn on the streets. Swirly people as far as the eye could see. Friends asking friends if they're sure they can walk yet. Friends acting as bread, taking the left and right sides of their really drunk friends creating a human crutch sandwich. And so on.
Don't get me wrong here, I'm all for having a good time and getting Gumby-ed up every now and again myself, but damn. This was too much for even me. Prolly because I had just spent 7 hours in a bar and had to make 3-4 trips through this clusterfuck to get my car packed up. I started to feel like I was in a real life version of the ol' arcade classic Frogger.
My condolences to any po-leese officer who has to man the streets of such towns at 2am every weekend. I could read each of the officer's faces like a book - every one of them had that PLEASE KILL ME look.
Bah - don't mind me, I think I'm just turning into an old fart, that's all. St. Cloud is actually a neat little town, I hope to return soon and peep all the cool looking little shops it had to offer in Downtown.
In the daytime, that is.
