Archive for December, 2012

I Hate Me, 100,817/ I Like Records 72

Back at work, kind of crazy with Christmas. Phone call, old woman talking fast and raspy:
Me-Hello Jacks Music
Woman-All I want for Christmas is You
Me-..uh…Thank you, but I’m married
Woman-Noooo..the song and not by that Marilu McCarey
Me-Mariah Carey?
Woman-Gahhh..yes..there’s a guy Vince Vaughn Vince but a woman is singing NOT McCAREY
Me-That’s uh..Vince Vance
Woman-Yeah, Vince Vaughn and the Vancetones
Me-I think we might be out of it, let me check
Woman-Ok, I hate that Marilyn McCoo
Me-Mariah Carey?
Woman-Her too
(I look for the CD, we are out of it)
Me-I’m sorry, we’re out of it
Woman-ohhhh…ohhh you’re OUT of Vince Vaughn
Me- Yeah, no Vince Vaughn. Sorry.
Woman-I Hate how those people sing
Me-Those people?
Woman-You know, the NEW people
Me-No, I really don’t
(has there been an invasion of singing aliens that no one has told me about?)
Woman- “heavy sigh” so no Vince Vaughn, “heavy sigh”
-CLICK-

Vince Vaughn in his most challenging role

Vince Vaughn in his most challenging role

Hey

Well, we got back from tour on the 12/9 and then it was back to work and two Magnet shows last weekend and after last friday everything except my family seems trivial. I should have something new tomorrow. Until then enjoy a song from Wimple Winch

Notes From Das Boot, 169

Eindhoven, Holland 12/8/12
Speedfest and the last show of the tour. A giant clusterfuck of festival workout and end of tour packing panic. On the plus side, Graveyard and Orange Goblin are playing and it was good to see Walter from Roadburn, on the minus side, almost everything else. It’s actually not that bad, but when yr this close to going home, every mole hill is a mountain. The festival here has perfected the thinnest sandwiches ever. Normal slices of bread cut even thinner and a slice of ham, then squished so its even thinner. Almost, but not as thick as a business card. Yeah, I don’t got much else today

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I don’t know what this means in German, but I found it childishly humorous in English.

Notes From Das Boot, 168

Krefeld, Germany 12/6/12
We’re here at Kulturfabrik, it’s one of those places that I couldn’t remember until we pulled up and then “pow!” , this is the place that I had what might have been the worst case of communication with any lighting guy, ever. We’ve played some out of the way places and I’ve been able to make myself understood, whether it was some backwoods galoot from the Urals or a barely there drug athlete from Holland. The guy who was the lighting guy here last time was a nice enough guy, but man it was like he spoke negative-English. Not only did he not understand anything I said, I actually forgot what I was saying (something about a focus I think), and was reduced to miming, interpretive dance and pictographs. I know X 100 that its not in his job description to understand English and my descriptive mime interpretations of a center focus have a lot to be desired, oy it was rough. This time was smooooooooth sailing. And another thing, if a club or a hotel or a bus claims to have the internet and its amazingly weak or non-existent it is called The InterNOT . Also today, Bob is legally changing his name for a year from Bob Pantella to Bob Nutella in a lucrative endorsement deal with the Nutella Corporation

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Now endorsed by Monster Magnet’s Bob Nutella

Notes From Das Boot, 167

Krefeld, Germany 12/5/12
Well coming down to the home stretch here, three shows left. We’ve had a lot of rainy days on this tour, the best that could be said about it is “at least it ain’t fuckin’ snow” but we’ve gotten through them so far (knock on wood) because of our bus driver Freddie, who can drive the shit out of the bus and says he’s sold his sold to the devil. I just hope the devil doesn’t want to collect on our watch. He’s a character, but with the way he drives he could wear a suit made from human skin and it wouldn’t bother me (unless it was my skin). We’ve had other bus driver characters but their eccentricities outweighed their abilities. There was one from a couple of years ago who was dubbed “the sensual Santa” (after a Dan Clowes character). He was a very large bearded man, who after waking up for the overnight drive would often walk thru the bus in nothing but a pair of old grey tighty whiteys and getting way too close, turning the bus into some horrifying frottage cottage. But I digress, Freddie is a great driver and hopefully he will deliver us to the airport Sunday in one piece. With the end of tour coming up quickly, now is the time for both shedding and gathering. Shedding stuff that was just for tour and had served its purpose and gathering/packing stuff that was acquired on tour. It’s a delicate balance and there is some “lifeboat” type situations “mmm..I can’t take all of you socks,underwear and t-shirts back with me…I’m sorry, but I bought some records and books.. I know, I know, records and books aren’t practical..but Christ, I found that Motards single I was looking for. Look, going into this tour you all knew some of you wouldn’t make it back…again I’m sorry.”

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Now the way I’m reading this photo it looks like The Statue of Liberty as Hitler giving a Christmas speech.

Notes From Das Boot, 166

Aschaffenburg, Germany 12/3/12
Day off here and most of us went to the local Christmas Town. This is a local Christmas fair that most large towns and cities have. A bunch of small wooden buildings (although some are sizable and look like spinning Christmas ornaments) mostly selling warm spiced wine and various meats in link form. There are rides for kids and trinket shops, it’s pretty cool. This one had an odd manger scene

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I get Mary and baby Jesus but why is old Jesus looking over her shoulder and who’s the kid who looks like he’s from a German Old Navy ad, and the old guy with the spoon/shovel, is he Joseph or just some guy who wandered in?

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Old Jesus looks at baby Jesus

Notes From Das Boot, 165

Erfurt, Germany 12/1/12
Erfurt (pronounced either F-Word or Ear Fart) is in the former East Germany ( it’s still in the east of Germany but…). We are playing at a club that’s right off of Karl Marx Platz. The way from the stage to the dressing room is Spinal Tap-ian in its route with an added East German kicker. Two of the rooms along the way are equipped with a lightbulb saving device that shuts off the light after a certain amount of time. Its a common device, the difference here is that they are so sensitive that if you stop in the room even for a second the lights go out, hilarity ensues. The lighting guy is a nice enough guy, whose English is pretty good, we got most everything sorted out with a minimum of difficulty. Now I know that drum checks are important and Anders (drum/guitar tech) and Danny (soundman) are two of most solid guys I’ve ever toured with. But fuckin’ shit, I know there’s a special ring of hell just reserved for drum checks. Slow, repetitive, and annoying, I try to avoid the building whenever drum check starts. I lost the refocusing race by a couple of lights and the lighting guy was on the ladder finishing up the focus when the drum check started. When he had a successful focus on the last light I have him the OK sign, which I thought was universal. Either it isn’t or the way I do it is faulty, so he kept moving the light which was now out of focus and I had to redirect the focus. He got it right and I gave him the thumbs up, which he took to mean raise the light. No! The drum check was going so it was tough to talk over the noise. He once again got the focus correct and I did my best German yes, “Yah!” But I yelled it so loud that I sounded like a pirate “YAARRRR!”. I ended doing my patented “waving at a plane while stuck on a desert island“. That he understood. And another not completely terrible focus was completed.

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Cool poster for something

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