Greenbriar

As a child
on the banks
of Greenbriar
Lake he dreamt
the hills on the
far shore were
the bones of
ancient sea
creatures.

This, a claw
that, it's lobster.
Skeletons covered
in the moss of
untold eons--
copperhead under
skunk fern under
tulip poplar.

His mooneyes saw
the world wild
and in danger
of being swallowed
by a mouth of fire,
this cool drop in
all that burning.

D. Hartley

Squares

I love these little squares,
their dimensions arbitrary
but my conformity
to them decidedly not.
I curl up in their threads
cold and aimless, once.

I love these little squares,
cubic corpuscles
that seem as perfect
as a concept, even though
they are carbon based
like the rest of us.

I love those little squares,
nets woven with imaginary
wire with which anglers
can troll for whatever
they please, canned tuna,
Kraken or Scylla alike.

I love little squares,
boxes made for breaking, or
a blanket built for covering
the ocean entire, for without it
swimming seems unsafe,
at least to me.



D. Hartley

The War on Drugs

angry trees
demonstrating around
the world
just how alive
you can be, cynical
shrimp, wise
shoppers congratulating
themselves,
thinking they haven't
bought into
this life business
yet, but since
they're already part
of the show
they're so addicted
to oxygen
they're unable to
remember
what they were
arguing about
before the tree's
ferocious sales
pitch.



by Thax Douglas


Thax is a legendary Chicagoan poet-laureate who writes on the spot band compositions to introduce bands. We had the pleasure of having our set at Schuba's (4-5-09) open with the preceding poem.

Muy Bueno

A wonderful tour..

Thank you, Europe and your inhabitants, for being so diverse and history-drenched and tolerant and, well, European. Coming up as a musician in the trenches of the American club/bar scene, one gets accustomed to being treated with some combination of disdain, condescension and just plain disregard. It was refreshing to be met by human beings with smiling faces. Special thanks to Etjen (czar of tour management), TT (pilot of the Chillenium Falcon), Amandine (Awesomebassador to Spain), and Bas (for booking the thing).

Highlights:

Playing Vera in Gronigen, Holland, a fully loaded compound/venue that can be only described as "band heaven"--indoor parking, attached lodging for the band/crew, amazing sound and lights, ridiculously friendly and competent volunteer staff, good food, and best of all, walls absolutely covered in the evidence that every great band in the last 25 years has played there. Totally honored.

A two-fer in Amsterdam, first at the rightfully-venerated Paradiso, then a last-second live radio show on 3 voor 12, filling in for Neko Case. We have a recording of the latter, and it sounds pretty slamming--I'll post a track from that at some point, and we may put that on a live compilation along with some other stuff for our upcoming US tour.

The food. Everywhere. This the first tour I've ever been on where I came home with a belly on me. French baguettes! Belgian chocolate! Belgian waffles! Belgian Friiturs! Spanish tortilla! Other Spanish dishes that I loved but can't remember the names of! Pizza in Frankfurt at Leon's! The wine in France! Dutch cappuccinos and croissants! German bowls of pasta the size of Jake Gyllenhal's head! Dios Mio!

Hanging out with Women. The band, not the gender. Although, of course, hanging out with women, as in females, is totally wonderful. But here I am speaking of the funniest Canadian dudes I've ever met, who we had the privilege of playing and hanging with in Lille, France. I offered to join their band simply to hear their jokes about Bruce Willis and snow leopards. Offer is on the table. Oh yeah, they made a sick record, too.

Wind farms. Everywhere in Europe. Do it, America, and do it fast.

Berlin, and it's laissez faire vibe. I saw a numerous, large, unowned warehouses and buildings gutted from the war and now housing coop-art-galleries and venues and candle-lit pubs. Equal distribution of wealth means less crime means less big-brother feel means fun and relaxing to hang out there.

Spain, en general. Tienes que verlo para creerlo! We got pretty lucky with the weather, and the drives through the mountains and deserts and by the coasts had us in a perpetual good mood. I highly recommend rolling into Bilbao on a perfect 75 degree day with Tom Petty's Wild One, Forever cranking on your ipod, if you have the means.

The lowlights were sparse, but two stick out in my mind:

Getting attacked by three hooligans in Evreux, France whilst taking some photographs of a little river in the center of town. They basically just ran up to me and grabbed my camera, then I commenced cursing and wrestling them for it until Mike "the enforcer" Zanghi interjected. One of the drunken hooligans grabbed his drum sticks and Mike socked him in the face. At this point the three of us were looking at these three French morons, all middle-aged and visibly wasted, making taunting gestures that wouldn't intimidate a small child and demanding we just hand over our belongings to them. They were the nihilists from the Big Lebowski. "Give us your money!" ... "Uh.. No." ... "Well give us your bag!" ... "Uh.. No." .... Eventually we just left, shaken up but laughing. Don't mess with a drummer's sticks.

Getting absolutely hosed by Brussels Airlines. If you are traveling in Europe, DO NOT patronize this company. They charged us 590 euros to check our guitars (we've never had to pay a fee in excess of 100 euros before.. ever), and then lost my bass and Adam's keyboard, nearly ruining our first show in Madrid. 590 euros. That's a lot of dough. Almost twice the cost of a single ticket on their plane. The best part: the plane was %75 empty. Skyway Robbery.

BUT we made it to Spain, and had a blast every bit of the way. All in all, I'd say we did pretty ok.

Next: US tour dates! Check the myspace, there's lots.


Encore in Germany:



Reading: Cities of the Plain, Gravity's Rainbow, American Pastoral...

It's Wednesday, Must be Belgium

Off to the Continent, folks, be back in mid-March. I'll of course have extensive photos and the wittiest of anecdotes.

I am officially a law school applicant, by the way.

Please email me with Top Chef updates.

I finished Underworld by Don Delillo recently--colossal. It's the only book I've ever read that can match Blood Meridian in ambition and complexity, albeit in a completely different way. It is a jungle to Cormac's desert, modern man reduced to static and private moments and a thousand threads. Now I'm delving into the Danielle Steel canon. Should be intense.

So this is the New Year

Left brain, toasts, tofu scramble, watching and waiting hopefully, criminal CEOs, the mandates of a New Regime, MBox symphonies, Richard, reading lists, spiraling weather patterns, blurring european landscapes, snare drums, disappearing bumble bees, Tunnel of Love, fingerless gloves, Unbreakable, application deadlines, recessions and depressions, bourbon, shameful post-modernism, hot sauce, cat hair in the omelet, photo-fueled sojourns, roasted beets, plateauing scrabble scores, waxing and waning facial hair, the occasional grey, prescription sunglasses, at least three phantom yet earth-shattering maladies, storms, calms, Heaven Hill, Lynne, coffee shop, alone recordings, rapid eye images, reunions, strat solo's, students and teachers, corduroys, carpal tunnel, worn clothes, feet, mortality, Bobby, gigabytes, argyle and plaid, candle lit, posture, net worth, laughably unfuturistic Ford Taurus, subway tokens, reemployment, load-ins and sound-checks, SM57s, LA2As, peeling paint, drop-ceiling removal, weeds, Joe mugs, print, feelings of inadequacy, adequacy, green tea, draperies, the Sea, the Forest, the Trees, the Mountains, the Earth, the Sky.




"How deep is time? How far down into the life of matter do we have to go before we understand what time it is?" -- D. DeLillo



photo by Mark Schoneveld