What's up with that? I guess it was cold in Minnesota too, but c'mon!
So sweaty Ohio was left behind as were our dreams of a robotic revolution in the post-industrial paradise of America's heartland. Oh well, there's always next year. On to Chicago, where rules are rules, swim trunks ALWAYS have mesh and creepers don't travel in pairs. Trust me, they know. Barns and Nobles bonanzas and attempted busking (if only us street kids could accept credit cards!) leads to late night roof-hopping (necessitated by us Canucks' failure to believe in carrying cards...) and Drij's first drunk of the tour! Hooray for broth! On to the 'Rock Star Hair Salon' (that's really what it's called) where future American Idol's get hardened hair as we look on. Too bad they didn't stick around for our set... Oh well, BiFurious and Prizzy don't need no new doo's to rock the party, and the sweat was rolling down our noses like the great molasses flood of whatever year that was (I was just knee high to a june bug at the time. Now uncle Jebediah, he...) Hot, is what it was and Preeti and the Kevin's provided all the fan for our flame. Shake a foot!
On to Northern Minnesota, where true rock legends are born. Like Kurt, namesake of Kurtfest, our last minute godsend in the northern wilderness. Picture this, small town america, just a block from 'the Big Stick' (brought to you by Christian America), where pregnant teens can still drink and smoke and small men in tie-dyed belly shirts and giant jafros can break into their cars in peace. America! The ol' furniture store is hoppin all night to the sounds of every local and semi-local band around. Rock rules, though surprise guests (to us) Nomia FLOOR us, but the real party stars when the kegs arrive and bro-fest 2010 gets 'roid rage and spits itself all over the walls. Sounds kinda gross don't it? But the boys wouldn't be stopped and our two AM set was filled with shirtless men shakin their booties like they never heard music before! Thrust punchin and poll dancin and hot footin, the boys paid no mind to the lack of ladies. Kurtfest rules! kindof... too bad it was the last, but at least we closed the final chapter...
Oh yeah- late night soundscape. Close your eyes and picture this...err, open them to read I guess and then close em and picture. A sweaty,mouldy, carpeted warehouse, drunks passed out all over, soda cans strewn about, teen hormones and 'chug chug chug' wafting up from the basement, us poor swampies huddled in the corner. Sleepland calls as a hippie jam breaks out beside us, punctuated by the full blast SCREAMS of a drunken girl friend who's boyfriend doesn't listen to her, isn't a man cause he didn't 'have her back' in a fight over keg etiquette, doesn't understand, just walks away... (three hours folks) while 'Cody! No, what are you doing! No, that's the carpet! You can't piss there! No don't, it's... AWWW!!!" It's like a lullaby.
No matter, sleep was had, some t-shirts were stolen, and the one restaurant was closed- though all 15 bars were open! On to Canada where the maple leaf waits with open arms... or not. Why do border guards hate us so much? Two hour strip search (of the car, sorry to give you a false impression) turns up... nothing! Except ONE CAN of pabst that we forgot to declare and a pack of cigarillos, which aren't the same as cigarettes and so we LIED when we said we have smokes. What a bunch of bull kaka - plus they didn't have a bathroom! So we called Amnesty International and got them booked on human rights violations while we all shared a shotgun of our single sud. What the fuck man, why ya gotta unroll every goddamn sock! Anyways, Winnipeg is where we are and lovely Julia has now slaked our thirsts for hospitality. Canada Ho!
It's off now to an interview. With the press. We're kindof a big deal... not really, but someone in Calgary really does want to interview us!
Tune in next time for a chance at a free show near you! That is if you live in the major centers where we'll be playing and by free I mean you'll have to pay....