As we did last year, here’s the summary of each road blog from my fall touring season as it happened, from the mundane to the exciting, from playing to next to no one in Laramie, Wyoming to a near sellout house in Columbus with Watershed. This last run out west brings my states-played-in count to 42, so I’ve still got some work to do while the open road beckons. Dig in and enjoy, and feel free to go back 11 years to 2013 in the archives if you’re inclined!

September 4, 2024
Tillsonburg, Ontario, Canada

Seems odd that the first road blog of 2024 doesn’t hit until September, but what can I say? The Tucos took the year off the road to concentrate on the recording of our fifth album and just enjoy a well-needed break from the spring and fall tour cycles. I spent the spring also juggling the recording and mixing of my new solo album “Dynamite Alley,” which I am out supporting now, and have copies to sell on CD and vinyl at the shows, even though the release date is 2 weeks away still. (And you can and should absolutely PRE-ORDER it via my website or Pencil Storm or Bandcamp!) So the solo-acoustic tour started on August 29th, with Matt Charette and Glencoemusic in Detroit, and now the show hits the road with four nights in Canada, centered around my annual show in Montreal at the Hangover Golf Draft Party on Friday night.

I left home around 2:30pm and crossed into Canada before 3. Customs was a breeze, and I didn’t even get to the awkward part about how I am a musician entering their country. I stopped at the Canada Post office to send posters to Vancouver for my show at Trees Organic Coffee there in October, saving some bucks over US international postage, then headed east towards London and Toronto. Windsor traffic sucked and the lights were terribly timed and it took me 40 minutes just to get out of the city.

Somewhere a couple hours later I got off the 401 and did about 20km on some rural/county roads that led me to this small, crossroads town called Tillsonburg. I had to get some supplies for my AirBB, which I’d be hitting late that night and staying in for the next as well, so I stopped into the downtown Wal-Mart and got some bagels, milk, cheese, nuts, granola bars, and fruit. People in town looked at me like I was a Martian, not sure why, but I gathered my things awkwardly in my hands, not willing to pay the $.30 CAD for a bag (seems the US is the only country that gives you bags when you buy groceries anymore) and headed to the venue.

The Mill sits on the bank of the Big Otter Creek just outside of Tillsonburg’s downtown. It’s an 1870’s era pea and barley mill that was originally owned by the Tilson family that’s since been converted into this amazing restaurant, inn upstairs, and pub/music venue downstairs. It’s loaded with character, and I was greeted by the friendliest people you can find – sound engineer Billy and co-owner Mandy, each making sure I was fed and hydrated and had everything I needed for the show. I took a seat on the patio and watched the most massive blue jay I’ve ever seen chase his girlfriend around while I called TrooperGirl22 and ordered a pork schnitzel with a side of Belgian carrot, cabbage, and horseradish potatoes. It was amazing!

Corny (Cornelius) Hamm went on a bit after 8 and did about 40 minutes of modern alt-country covers like Tyler Childers, Morgan Wade, and Zac Bryan. He had a commanding voice and a strong but loose stage presence, and the crowd loved it! I played after him to a fairly full and attentive room, pushing my new record and spinning a yarn or two. After me, local dude with recently bleached hair Pete Klassen played a set of upbeat acoustic-punk originals and kept the mood light as he joked between songs and pulls off of his Bud Light. It was a fantastic night of music!

I had some pals from nearby London, Ontario in attendance; What Wave Dave, a staunch supporter since my first-ever London show at Call the Office in 2016, and his lovely wife Rena, Chillvis Freshly, an eccentric Twitter follower who makes these insane kaleidoscope videos of live music and rants from his chair about garlic beer and other weird things in a unique, crazy, Canadian way, and my pals Trevor and Jenn from near London, who I met in December when The Tucos played with Two Cow Garage in Toledo. People bought the new record and tee shirts and were very supportive and positive about their awesome little scene here in Tillsonburg. I chatted with the promoter Ben for a bit and some more with Mandy (no shortage of Jon Snodgrass stories!), loaded out, and headed towards my AirBB in the western suburbs of Toronto.

The drive was long and dark, through back-country winding roads that seemed abandoned and to go forever. Karen Jacobsen - The GPS Girl, my trusty Garmin GPS for many, many years, has been in a mood on this run so far, and my phone has my arrivals 10-20 minutes sooner, so I’ve using hybrid navigation, leaning on the phone when there’s a discrepancy. Eventually I merged onto the 403 and saw the massive expanse of lights that is the greater Toronto area as I rounded a corner at the top of an ascent. A few kilometers later and I was trying to figure out how to navigate locked gates, combination key-boxes, and sticky sliding doors in the back of a house I’ve never been to in the pitch-black night.

The AirBB is a middle floor of a house with residents below in the basement and a Vietnamese family in the apartment above. I was careful to be quiet as I booted up the laptop, scoped out the coffee machine, brushed my choppers and went to bed around 1:30am. Today I’ll work from here, looking out onto the back patio, watching three female cardinals fly around, and listening to Ozzy’s Boneyard on my JBL Flip5 speaker before heading into Toronto to play with my pals David Picco and Erika Werry tonight at LOLA Bar and Restaurant and have dinner and do some record shopping with Woody Whelan, the dude who got me into Canada to play for the first time, 14 years ago this weekend.

Huge thanks to everyone who was at The Mill for last night – you wonderful people make my heart full. Xo

September 5, 2024
Toronto, Ontario, Canada

I spent my day at my AirBB in Mississauga, Ontario working and then getting ready to head into the city for the show. Around 4pm I organized my gear and merch and dove into Toronto traffic. There’s a lot to like about Toronto – it’s very diverse, great food, great music, and I have some wonderful friends here, but I’m not gonna lie, it’s one of my top-least favorite cities to drive in. The traffic sucks, there’s gobs of it, the lights last forever, and there’s bikes, scooters, and pedestrians darting in and out everywhere. And I’m always there in the fall with a setting sun glaring into a dirty windshield, so it’s extra challenging. Boohoo.

First stop was a couple vintage stores on Queen Steet West, then one of my fav record stores Sonic Boom, where I scored a sweet Bangles 12” and a couple other things. From there it was back to replenish the parking coffer, then off to The Grand Indian Dining, where I had a nice little table and a wonderful server who put some spicy lobster vada pav and Sunday Chicken Curry in front of me and I made short work of it. I’ve got a couple good curry recipes I make at home, but I need to learn how to make some like that some day! I did a loop over to Ossington Street and hoped to dart into Rotate This, another fav record store, but traffic was extra brutal, there was no parking, frustration was mounting, and show time was approaching, so I headed over to Kensington Market.

LOLA is a small bar on the main drag of Kensington Market, which is an eclectic, diverse, and fun neighborhood that once served as the central market for Toronto’s meat and produce. It doesn’t’ really fill that role anymore, but it’s a gentrification-resistant, older, character driven area. Corina, the owner and bartender, greeted me with a smile and showed me around the stage and band room. It’s a small joint, it would be challenge to get a band in there, but for solo-acoustic stuff it’s perfect, with enough seating to make it feel full without a huge crowd.

Erika Werry played first, with her friend Mike (hope I got that right?) on nylon string guitar. If you’ve read blogs from previous visits to Toronto, you know I’m a huge fan of hers, and if you know The Tucos’ last album, Candy Coated Cannonball, you know that verse 2 of our song “Girls Named Erica” is about her too (and also mentions Sonic Boom). Her set was great, as always, and I could listen to her sing all night. I played second to a pretty decent crowd in that small room, and it was nice to be in a more listening/less socializing situation where the quieter stuff works better. After me, my ol’ pal David Picco played and it was great to hear him again after many years. He’s got great guitar chops and amazing songs and we’re heading to Montreal tomorrow together for a two-night-stand at Barfly, so it’s gonna be a hoot. A couple other friends were there – Jimmy and Woody Whelan , and I met some new friends too. A dude who’s name is escaping me (Blane?), introduced to me as “a metal drummer,” sat in with Erica for a few songs on cajon, and I invited him up for the first couple songs in my set too.

After the show we had a nightcap, chatted it up about future plans together, rounds of hugs, a few photos, and off into the night.

This morning I’m off to scoop up Dave and head east towards Quebec, then it’s the annual Hangover Golf Draft Party at Barfly! tonight, which is always a blast! We’re actually doing two nights at Barfly – Saturday too – after our Saturday show in Bolton-Ouest was cancelled with little notice or explanation, so if ya can’t make Friday or wanna hang twice – come Saturday!

Thanks to Cori and Lola for having us, thanks to Erica and David for always making Toronto awesome, and to everyone who came out! We’ll see ya tonight at Barfly! xx

September 6, 2024
Montréal, Québec, Canada

I packed out of my AirBB in Mississauga around 9am on Friday morning and headed into Toronto to pick up David Picco for our trip east to Montréal. He was waiting on his porch in the South Parkdale neighborhood when I drove up and double parked. I ran into The Abbott coffee shop and got a coffee to-go and we were off. Toronto traffic was terrible as always, but we trudged forward and eventually made it out of the city, with one major gaffe that cost us about a 25-minute detour. The journey was largely uneventful, save some construction and a pretty driving rain for the first couple hours, but it cleared up around Kingston and it’s been smooth sailing since. Well, except for a quick restroom stop at an EnRoute service plaza where a perhaps slightly buzzed Picco announced to me loudly and boldly in the crowded men’s room how he’d recently had penis reduction surgery.

Montréal traffic wasn’t a whole lot better than Toronto, but we crawled our way over to the borough of Verdun, where my pals and our hosts Eric Kearns and Trixie live. I’ve known Eric for about 13 years now, since I first played Montréal in 2010 and he was a bachelor. We’re staying in an apartment above theirs and the accommodations are awesome, with private bedrooms, a beautiful deck looking towards the city, and beers in the fridge. Eric was wearing a Montréal Expos shirt that looks like he probably got it at a game when he was a kid, and Trixie greeted us with her usual charm and smile and it was great to see here again too.

After about an hour of downtime to shake off the road it was time to head into the city. Karen Jacobsen - The GPS Girl continues to be troublesome on this trip as Kearns guided us towards Barfly on a more efficient route. I’m a bit concerned about Karen and hope she gets her shit together before I start touring the states in 2 weeks. We passed a cute girl on a Suzuki with a puppy wearing sunglasses in a backpack and she said we could take a photo at a stoplight. Picco was smitten, and thought the girl was cute too, and I curmudgeonly debated the need to put your dog in a backpack and take it on a motorcycle ride (despite the amusing visual) to his and Kearns’ dismay. We passed by the Leonard Cohen mural and after one lap around the block landed rock star parking right in front of Barly on Rue St. Laurent, Montréal’s busiest street.

We loaded in our gear and merch, said hi to the owner and good friend Fross Tee Anthony, and headed out on foot for some food while Kearns prepared for the Hangover Golf Tournament draft at the bar. Pitarifique is a corner sandwich shop I’ve been eating at since I’ve been coming to Montréal, and it seems to just get better over time. While I’ve always loved the Poutine at La Banquise and have wanted to go back for years, the line is usually around the block and I just haven’t have the time or patience for that. That said, the poutine at Pitarifique is amazing, and perhaps a more authentic, albeit simpler and less extravagant, experience, while also being closer to Barfly and a faster meal. Their sandwiches rule too, and my lamb/beef gyro pita was just as good as the poutine. Bellies full and a night of debauchery ahead, we walked back to Barlfy. I called TrooperGirl22 back home and comforted her in her grieving over not being able to find anyone to go see The Sadies with her in London, Ontario tonight, and promised we’d find a Sadies show to hit before too long.

Barfly is a small, Montréal Canadiens-themed music venue that sits in the heart of Montréal’s main drag. I first played there 14 years ago today, in 2010, solo-acoustic, on my first ever Canadian run, supporting my solo album Party of One. The bar is loaded with character and characters, with owner Anthony perched on his stool in the corner, preaching the gospel about the upcoming Canadiens’ season, the spread of the Eagles-Packers game in Brasil, and American politics. It’s always great to see him and get caught up. He’s awesome.

Picco and I shot a game of pool (he beat me, but it was close, down to the 8 ball) while Kearns wrapped up the draft, and we got ready to play. Good friends Ilse, Dave, and Luc came in and it was great getting caught up with them. Luc was the drummer for Alex Soria’s bands Chino and The Nils, and played with my pal Mark Goodwin as well in his band The Mighty FFud. Mark recently passed away and his name came up a few times over the evening. He was a good guy, always nice to me, and the Montréal music scene just isn’t quite the same without him. We determined throughout the night that Luc was on some bills that I was also on, and he got a kick out of the show archives on my website.

Gwendo Lyn helped us dial in the PA and Dave went on sometime around 9:30 to a pretty good room. He played a great set and I loved hearing his version of Steve Earle’s “Fort Worth Blues,” as we’d talked about Steve and that tune earlier on the drive. I went on after and did my best to keep the attention of the distracted and socializing crowd who seemed to fade in and out of attention, but I had fun and played ok. People perked up a bit when I played my version of “Fountains” by The Nils, as Alex was well known at Barfly. After the set it was a couple rounds of drinks, ran into pal Curt, load-out, goodbyes, and back to casa Kearns.

Picco and I said goodnight to Kearns and poured a couple glasses of whiskey as we came down from the excitement of the active, busy evening and chatted music business and Saturday plans until about 2:30am. This morning I was up around an unusually late 7:45am and diving into the road blog over a cup of coffee so strong it could wake Leonard Cohen from the grave. We’re back at Barfly tonight, after being unceremoniously dropped from another gig just a few days ago that we had booked and confirmed months ago a venue a couple hours outside of the city, but so goes the music business, and the apathy and disrespect that indie/DIY musicians face daily. While that was a drag, we’re beyond grateful that Anthony and Gwendolyn were open to having us back tonight, and I’ll never complain about playing Barfly. It’s one of my favorite joints. So if you’re here – please come out tonight and let’s end this Canadian run in style! Now, for an afternoon in Montréal! Xo

September 7, 2024
Montréal, Québec, Canada

Saturday morning in Montréal was laid back and easy in the apartment above Kearns and Trixie’s place. David Picco slept in while I drank coffee and got caught up on internet business. We headed into the city for some food and record shopping and landed at Mount-Royal Avenue, as recommended by Dave at the previous night’s show. It started to rain as we sat down in Restaurant Ph? Mont-Royal for some tasty Vietnamese lunch and several glasses of water to hydrate our decimated bodies from the revelry at the show the night before. The food was fantastic and just what the doctor ordered.

From there we hit a couple record stores on the avenue and each of our records can now be purchased at Aux 33 Tours in MTL, so stop on into that great store and pick `em up! Around this time I got a text from pal and Tucos’ drummer/producer Gabriel who complemented the road blog from Friday’s show and commented that Picco, who he knows well from previous touring, appears to have entered the Bowzer phase of his career. When I came across the Sha Na Na section I couldn’t resist and had Picco pose for a side-by-side pose (see attached pics).

By this point it was a fairly driving rain. Winds had picked up and temps had dropped so it was pretty miserable out, and we were ready for some downtime, so we headed back to Kearns’ and chilled out for the rest of the afternoon. I checked in back home with TrooperGirl22 who’s keeping the house intact and enjoying some Hurricane Jeremy-free time. Kearns returned home from the Hangover Golf Tournament looking like a drowned rat and we had a quick catch-up before David and I headed back into the city for the gig.

For the third night in a row I landed rock-star parking right in front of the venue and we loaded in. We needed some food and had little time, so we took the easy and familiar road and headed back to Pitarifique again for the second night in a row. I got a salad instead of poutine this time, and that was a good call. The food was great, as always, and we went back to Barfly for the show.

The rain was still pouring and that didn’t help attendance, but there were still a few faces in there when David went on around 9:30. He played great again and commanded the attention of everyone except one rude German dude who felt inclined to YELL whatever it was he had to say that was apparently very important and interesting to his buddy 6 feet away from the stage to be heard above the music. I went on after David and a few more people came in and the German quieted down so I had a pretty good set.

We chatted a bit with my friend James and Fross Tee Anthony, had one last one last one, and headed out. Back at Kearn’s we had a nightcap, listened to music and watched some Uncle Tupelo videos and hit the hay around 1:30.

If I was a bettin’ man I’d say that 7am is not an hour that Mr. Picco has seen in some time. Desperate to get on the road and home to TrooperGirl22 and some chill time before the Lions home opener, and with a daunting 11-hour drive ahead, he rallied like a champ and we were on the road. A quick stop for some McDonald’s coffee and breakfast, and the poor girl didn’t speak English and we don’t speak French so we ended up with a pile of random shit we didn’t order, but we had caffeine so we were good to go. The ride was smooth and uneventful, on-and-off drizzling rain, and passing the iPod back and forth. We listened to The Monkees, Van Morrison, Bread, Carly Simon, Dave Loggins, Pink Floyd, and tons of other stuff. We’re both mega-music geeks with some cross-over and plenty of unknown territory on both sides, so it was constant great conversation.

I dropped Picco off in Toronto around 12:30, traffic slightly less horrific than usual, and hit the American border at 4:30. After a nauseating 25-minute wait and the understaffed and overcrowded border I was on American soil and merging onto I-96 towards Plymouth. 10 hours and 15 minutes after leaving Montreal I pulled into the driveway, which is GREAT time, though I coulda’ broken 10 hours if the border wasn’t such a mess. TG22 spent the weekend cleaning the house, and I’ve promptly started dismantling her work with bags of records and gear, dirty-stinky laundry, and containers of unhealthy road food. Time to unwind and get ready for the Lions, some Cajun shrimp tacos, and a good night’s sleep in my own tomb.

Thanks to everyone in Tillsonburg The Mill / Paddy’s Underground / Ben, Toronto LOLA / Corina / Erika, and Montreal Barfly / Gwendo Lyn / Kearns-Trixie ? / Anthony ETC ETC ETC for working or attending these shows. The Canadian run has been the traditional fall-tour-kickoff for the last 14 years - it’s rarely profitable, but always a gas, and I love all of my Canadian friends. We’ll see ya next year, if not sooner!

Special thanks to my brother David Picco for the great company, endless laughs, amazing songs, and singing the entire “Number Of the Beast” album at the top of our lungs on the 401. Up the Irons, brother! We’ll do it again for sure, and I can’t wait! Xx

September 19, 2024
Akron, Ohio

The Dynamite Alley solo tour headed into Ohio this weekend as my new album is released today, available on all streaming services and for download and order on Bandcamp and in my web store. It’s been a long ride between the first sessions in March 2023 and today, but here we are, supporting the new release with some road shows and hearing what people think as the pre-orders are received and the music hits peoples’ stereos. Thanks to everyone who’s ordered a copy and everyone who helped make it happen!

In traditional and ancient Tucos’ folklore, seeing a bald eagle while on our adventures is a sign of impending good luck. It doesn’t happen often, but when it has, good things have followed. Yesterday I was about 45 minutes east of Toledo when I looked up and saw that distinctive white head and tail on a massive raptor overhead, and I gave him the ol’ Jeremiah Johnson head-nod while I passed underneath.

My first stop in Akron was at Square Records. It’s a cool little store in a neat neighborhood and up the street from a joint we played once called Annabell’s. I picked up a Blood On The Saddle LP and left a copy of Dynamite Alley on vinyl, so anyone in town can stop in and buy it! I stopped off at Missing Falls Brewery for a smashed burger and a pint and to get caught up on whatever business I’d missed over the last four hours. Food was amazing, beer was cold and good, and it’s a cool place. Probably the best meal I’ve had in Akron.

I parked next to The Rialto Theatre, where the show was, and walked over to a nearby guitar shop called The Guitar Department. They had some nice vintage amps including a really old Supro that caught my eye, and some cool guitars too, but nothing I can’t live without, so I left empty handed and walked back to the venue.

There’s a small bar in the lobby where my friend Stacey and her friend Tony were hanging out, and my long-time Ohio pal Scott was there too. I had time for a couple quick hellos, met my touring partner for the next 3 nights Brian Lisik, and headed into the theater for soundcheck.

The Rialto is a small former movie theater with a great stage and comfortable listening room, balcony, and recording studio in the loft. The acoustics are fantastic and they’ve got the sound dialed in nicely. As show time approached, a small but respectable group of people filtered in for the show. I went on at 8pm and played about 45 minutes, told a couple bad jokes, and got off the stage. Brian went on after and played a great set before wrapping up around 10pm.

My pal, and a significant contributor to Dynamite Alley – Doug McKean – came down from Cleveland, and it was great getting caught up and having a couple laughs with him too. After the show I sold a little merch, wrapped up some conversations, said some goodbyes, and headed southwest toward Columbus.

I decided to stay in Columbus last night because it was an early show and I could cut some time from the Friday drive to Dayton, but mostly to see some friends, do some record shopping, and get some breakfast at my fav breakfast joint the Starliner Diner. The drive was just short of two hours, which isn’t bad, but not super fun after a show like that. It was fairly uneventful, with state cops sitting in the median every few miles keeping my speed in check. I hit the motel pretty wiped out at 12:30, checked in, had a nightcap, watched some shitty late-night TV, and crashed out. This ain’t the Ritz, and the window in my room doesn’t close all the way and I’m overlooking Interstate 270, so it was a long, loud night.

This morning I’m taking care of some business, watching some shitty morning TV, and getting ready to embark on a long day of record shopping before, during, and after heading to Dayton for tonight’s show at the South Park Tavern, with Brian again, and also Nick Kizirnis and Kyleen Downes. Thanks to everyone at The Rialto Theatre and everyone who was there for making it my best Akron show yet! We’ll see ya next time, and we’ll see ya tonight Dayton!

If you haven’t ordered Dynamite Alley yet, you can on Bandamp or my web store. If streaming is your jam, check it out on all those places too, but really, nothing helps an artist like buying their stuff. Link in comments.

xx

September 20, 2024
Dayton, Ohio

My new solo album Dynamite Alley was released yesterday, and I woke to some encouraging and positive messages from friends who were listening to their recently-arrived pre-orders, checking it out on the streaming services, and now ordering it online. The pre-sale went great, and I’m very grateful to all who ordered and are still ordering!

I left my motel room with window stuck open and the loud interstate beneath just shy of 11am and headed over to visit with my pal Colin at @colins coffee (can't tag for some reason) . Colin is the CEO-CFO-CIO-COO and all the “C”s at Pencil Storm (except co-editor in chief, that’s Ricki and me) and also in the great band WATERSHED, who The Tucos will be supporting in Columbus and Hamtramck on the next 2 Saturdays. Colin is a bundle of spirit, energy, and passion about all things rock and roll, coffee, and Ohio, and we share a strong bond over our love of Cheap Trick, among other things. Don’t tell anyone, but he seems to be more objective about Michigan Football than most of his neighbors, but he’s no softy either – he led a band called Dead Schembechlers for years, to the ire of many donning the maze and blue. His new digs at The Daily Growler are really nice and I had a great visit and a fantastic latte before I dropped off a record and headed into the city.

As I was approaching the skyline I noticed a huge plume of smoke, and once downtown there was a faint scent of toxicity in the air. Turns out a huge auto scrapyard had caught fire over night and was spewing poison for going on 12 hours. Yummy. Toxic plume aside, Columbus is a great city for record shopping, and it’s been years since I’ve had the luxury, so I set some time aside to make the rounds. First I stopped into Spoonful Records downtown and had a nice visit with my pal Brett (also in a new, very nice spot!) and picked up a Stray Cats record that’d been on my list for a while and left copies of the latest Tucos record and my new one Dynamite Alley. We had a nice chat and I complemented and congratulated him on his new store; really nice – great selection, super clean, and friendly people.

From there I went up to the North High Street neighborhood and hit Lost Weekend Records. I was hoping Scott would be working so we could say hello, but I was happy to have a great chat with owner and super-music-geek Kyle and we talked about all things Columbus, Lost Weekend, Watershed, local venues, and records. I picked up a rare, sealed copy of a The Meices record and told Kyle how excited I am to be playing a show with my pal Joe in Seattle in a couple weeks! They’re now carrying Dynamite Alley as well, so stop on in, support these great stores, and pick up my records so they’ll continue to sell them!

With an mega-full bladder and my crappy motel powdered eggs now completely digested, it was time for a late breakfast/lunch so I headed over to my favorite breakfast joint ever The Starliner Diner in the suburb of Hilliard. This place rules and it’s always great, so I try to eat there whenever possible. I got the Starliner Burrito and a side of plantains (in addition to, not instead of the home fries) and it did not disappoint. See ya next week after the Tucos show SD!

My Columbus checklist was now complete and it was time to head west. By now temps were in the mid-90s and I had the food-coma-sweats from my massive feast, but I somehow found the strength and courage to forge on, down I-70 towards Dayton. I stopped in a cool little town called Yellow Springs (known for a mega-famous comedian resident) where there’s a little upstairs record store called Toxic Beauty Records. I almost pulled the trigger on a Souther-Hillman-Furay Band LP, especially in light of the recent passing of JD Souther, but I wasn’t too familiar with it and passed. Listening to some of it now online, and seems like something I should’ve probably jumped on. Dang.

From there I made a quick shop at Sheetz for some gas and a slushee and the nice lady helped me get signed up for the Sheetz Points Club, which seemed fun and like a good idea given that they are coming to Michigan and a frequent stop whenever on tour. It was a short 20 minutes to Dayton where I bopped around the Oregon District for a bit then found a shady spot by the river to get caught up on internet business, call TrooperGirl22, and change into show clothes.

I loaded into the South Park Tavern around 7:45 and ran into my pal and touring partner this weekend Brian Lisik. I was informed by my pal Henry out east somewhere that my album was still showing as Pre-Order on Bandcamp so I had to fire up the ol’ laptop and remedy that (thanks for the heads up bud!). We said hello to Nick Kizirnis and Kyleen Downes who were also playing, ordered some pizzas, and got set up.

Brian went on at 9pm to a pretty respectable and responsive crowd that really dug his set. I went on after and the room sorta thinned out as the night went on, but there were enough people to keep it fun and they were all very engaged, which allows for some quieter material I can’t play in front of more conversational audiences. Nick and Kyleen played after me, swapping out acoustics and Gibson SGs throughout the set and playing each other’s songs. Great synergy and chemistry, great songs, and great playing. Pretty sure I’ll be running into them again!

My pal, U of D DJ Art was there, digging the live music, supporting the artists, and spreading his positive vibes and energy as he always does. We had a great chat and it’s always a pleasure and a good hang!

I packed up and loaded out, fired up Karen Jacobsen - The GPS Girl and pointed the truck northward on I-75 towards Detroit. I passed Needmore avenue, and sent a shot to my pal Lenny, whose new band is called The Needmores, and are playing with me at my record release show tonight in Ypsilanti. I stayed away thanks to a steady intake of gummy bears (purchased at Sheetz), Faygo soda, and CRANKED albums by Aerosmith, Lydia Loveless, and Jason isbell. I got home at 3:15am and crashed out just shy of 4am. Late night, but worth it to sleep in my own tomb for a few hours. Today will be shipping out orders, packing up gear, and heading into Ypsi for the show.

Big thanks to Grant, Brian. Nick, Kyleen and everyone else at the South Park Tavern for a fun night! Dayton is always a good time. We’ll see ya next time!

Tonight we wrap it up with a one-off performance by The Jeremy Porter Band and friends at Ziggy's in Ypsilanti for my Record Release Show! Brian Lisik and The Needmores open. Doors at 7, music at 8. It will be one for the ages. Thanks for reading. More in October from the west coast xx

September 29, 2024
Columbus, OH

This fall so far has been all about the solo record and touring solo-acoustic behind it. I was immersed in that mode and looking forward to a couple weekends off after some Midwest and Canada shows and before I head out west for a longer run in October. Then, just about as the schedule was set in Stone, my pal Colin asked me if The Tucos would like to open for WATERSHED in their hometown of Columbus, at a great venue called the Rumba Cafe, and then also play together somewhere in Detroit the following weekend. Well, there was no way I was passing that up, so goodbye downtime, hello rock! We landed a Maumee show in the middle, so it’ll be 3 Tucos shows in 8 days before I take the Martin out west. In addition to the opportunity to play with Watershed, an incredible band I’ve admired for years, I was excited to get the Tucos out of the basement, which hasn’t happened often this year – these will be our 3rd, 4th, and 5th shows, easily the fewest since the band formed, except the pandemic year of 2020.

Gabriel and I left my house and picked up JakeE Jacob at a coney island in Ann Arbor where he was rapidly and feverishly finishing his cruciferous breakfast. Three years in this band and the kid still struggles with our “Annoyingly Punctual” tagline. The remnants of Hurricane Helene have pushed into the Midwest, and the constant rain would be an annoyance for the duration of our trip (but admittedly not nearly as bad as the Carolinas and the rest of the southeast got it.) We made good time once we got through bad accident traffic early in Ann Arbor and late in Columbus.

We were in my SUV for this run, grateful to Watershed for letting us use their drums and bass backline, a common practice that saves a lot of time, space and energy for everyone on multi-band bills. We had Karen Jacobsen - The GPS Girl focused on the mission at hand, and my USB drive playing it’s 10’s of thousands of songs in alphabetical order, a technique TrooperGirl22 discovered a truer “shuffle” than the actual shuffle, which tends to fixate on the same few bands over and over, ignoring 95% of your collection. What that means, however, is that you’ll sometimes get different, or even the same, version of a song multiple times occasionally. For example, between album versions, compilations, live versions, and bonus tracks, there’s about 13 versions of “I Wanna Be Sedated” by the Ramones on there; Road to Ruin, Road to Ruin remaster, Road to Ruin box set Remix, Road to Ruin box set live disc, Ramones Mania, Live in Ann Arbor, Live in San Antonio, It’s Alive!, Demo bonus track, alternate take bonus track… you get the point. Beyond unnecessary, but difficult to clean up effectively. As we hit Columbus it was “Bringin’ On the Heartbreak” by Def Leppard (in the “B”s, obvs) and we dissected the difference between the original Pyromania CD version, Early Years box set remaster, Live in LA NYE 1983, and 1984 remix versions. The boys were patient through it all and we liked the live and remastered versions best.

We checked into our dive motel near the OSU campus and the front desk clerk wasn’t the sharpest chisel in the drawer, taking about 20 minutes of clicking the same 3 buttons on his iPad over and over and expecting something different to happen every time. There was a much nicer Hilton Garden Inn next door to our dump with two tour busses in the lot and we joked “Oh, looks like Watershed is staying next door!” I snapped a pic and sent it Colin. We weren’t sure, but we guessed it was most likely Alkaline Trio, also in town. Some sorta unrelated trivia, but The Lemonheads were also in town, and that’s back-to-back Saturdays we were up against the Lemonheads, after my record release show in Michigan last weekend. We grabbed some mediocre-at-best Mexican American food at the restaurant next to the hotel and headed over to the venue.

Watershed was wrapping up their soundcheck as we arrived, and they sounded amazing. We met the promoter (Monica?), their main dude Michael Biggie, and the sound engineer as we set up and sound checked after they were done. It’s a great room, sorta square and dark and just grimy enough to be a respectable rock joint. The sound and stage are awesome, and things sounded great. We did some record shopping across the street at Used Kids Records where I picked up the new Soul Asylum record, then we chilled upstairs from the Rumba in their great green room, chatted with drummer Herb a bit, and had a drink before the show.

We went on at 8:15 to a fantastic crowd that nearly filled the big room. They were attentive, engaged, and responsive, and frankly, that’s a few steps up from our normal shows. We had a blast, played fairly well, had a laugh or two, and cleared the stage. I introduced JakeE to the crowd as a former Michigan Wolverine running back who’s blood flows maize and blue, to the OSU loving crowd’s boos and his dismay.

Watershed went on at 9:15ish and played a colossal nearly three-hour set, including their new record front to back and tons of stuff from their back catalog. They opened as a trio, with Colin, Joe and Herb, playing a great version of “Seasons of Wither” by Aerosmith, a great song that most bands couldn’t and wouldn’t dare touch, and a ballsy opener, but they killed it. Second guitarist Rick came out for the rest of the night while Herb traded spots on and off with their other drummer Dave. They sounded amazing, played great, and not one person bailed before they wrapped up.

We had a few friends out and it was great to see Dawn in town from upstate Ohio, my pal Scott, who works at Lost Weekend Records and I’d missed the previous weekend when I was in town, fellow Pencil Storm contributor Kevin, and my pal and fellow Cheap Trick nut John, a Columbus firefighter and mega-rock and roll fan, shooting photos front and center all night. We also met a whole bunch of new people and really felt welcome and appreciated.

After the show we did the usual merch selling, packing up, loading out, and saying goodbyes. Watershed was heading out right after the show, northwest to the Cheap Trick mecca of Rockford, Illinois, where they’ll play tonight, a move we found a bit baffling, but hey – rock and roll doesn’t sleep, and there was a giant checkerboard Explorer waiting just off I-39. We went back to our motel and crashed out.

This morning, after a short, restless, and unproductive sleep, I woke to see a photo in my feed of Watershed in their van under that very Explorer and gave them the ol’ Jeremiah Johnson head nod from afar. I got up and tried repeatedly to get the shower to work but there was just no water – like…none, dry, dust. After a few pissed off minutes as several attempts I said F it and gave up and got dressed. Jake walked in, closed the door, and I heard the shower fire right up for him. G'dammit.

Now it was time for my second Starliner Diner breakfast in as many weekends, and as much as I’d told myself “I’m not going to order the Starliner Burrito again. I’m not going to order the Starliner Burrito again.” I bellied up and ordered that awesome sucker right off, nothing else on the menu grabbing me with that intensity. I did stray from the norm and, at Rick Kisinger’s suggestion, got the jalapeño cheddar soup, which was awesome. JakeE was looking a little peaked next to me in the booth, a bit worse for the wear after the Saturday night revelry, but he soldiered through, and before long we were on the road north.

The drive home was uneventful save for some rain and a quick bio break at a Pilot gas station somewhere just south of Bowling Green. The boys didn’t share my enthusiasm at the prospect of going in together on a Bible Trivia book for band bonding, team building, time killing, and education in the van. Realizing we’d collectively know next to nothing on those pages, I didn’t push it further. We dropped Gabriel off in Dearborn at 1:30, 25 hours after we left, and landed at my place in Plymouth at 2.

It was a great night, a perfect one-off show. Watershed are amazing, as a band and as people, and we are eternally grateful to them for sharing their audience with us. It was EASILY our best Columbus show of several to date, and I truly love that city and it’s people (and music). The Next road blog will be from Portland, Oregon in less than two weeks. If you’re near Detroit or looking to road trip, next Saturday’s Tucos show with Watershed at Ghost Light will be epic!

Xx

Portland, Oregon
October 10, 2024

I flew to Seattle on Wednesday afternoon, just as the second inning of the Tigers’ game was starting. Thankfully the in-flight entertainment system included TBS, so I was able to watch the 3-0 shutout. TSA and Delta Air were super cool about my carry-on acoustic guitar, asking me to open it and hold it for the security inspection and carefully stowing it in a closet in the cabin near my seat. Dollar Rental Car, on the other hand, can suck it. After my card was run and my disclaimers were nearly complete, the last condition was that I not take the car outside of Washington or Oregon, a stipulation NOT on the original agreement. I didn’t go into details, but I am hitting those states and about 6 others, so that’s not gonna work. They wouldn’t rent to me. After some quick phone research and a couple dead ends, I rented from Alamo, who got me on my way, but for about double the cost of the Dollar rental. Hadn’t even left the goddamn airport and was already well in the hole.

First stop was to visit my pal Joe at his Temple of the Trees studio not far from the airport. I met Joe in the early 90s when he was with The Meices , and then Alien Crime Syndicate. We’d hang when he came through or near town and have stayed in touch pretty regularly. He gave me the tour of the amazing, beautiful studio, loaned me some gear for my tour, we strummed some guitars, and I was on my way. I scarfed down some Taco Bell (second night in a row, if you’re keeping score) and headed south on Interstate 5 towards Portland.

I stayed at an economy chain in Vancouver, Washington, just north of Portland, and the desk clerk, annoyed by my late arrival, wasn’t impressed that I was using TrooperGirl22’s rewards account. Clearly I wasn’t her, I guess. I’ve done this probably 200 times and never had a problem. Despite my exhaustion and lingering agitation with the rental car situation, I did my best to remain cordial, and was soon out cold, 4am Eastern time, 1am PST.

Sometime between leaving Joe’s and the hotel, the pickup inside my acoustic came loose and was floating around inside the body. I texted my guitar guy Jason back home who gave me some advice and I got it back in place, but with little confidence for longevity. Among my morning errands was procuring some 2-way tape. I hit about 4 record stores in Portland. First was City Street Records , a small but cool mostly punk and metal store. Then Music Millennium a great store where I picked up a Tammy Wynette LP and a Rick Springfield 7”. They’re carrying my new GTG Records record “Dynamite Alley” now so stop in and pick it up! From there I went to Little Ax , a small but well procured alt/indie-centric store next to the beautiful Hollywood Theatre.

By now it was mid-afternoon and I had to start budgeting my time before my early show. I headed over to the Mississippi neighborhood and brought my guitar into Black Book Guitars (can't tag?). It’s a tiny little space with a few cool vintage guitars on the wall. Three dudes were chatting, one looking not unlike Queen’s Brian May these days, testing some pickups on a Fender pickguard, the other, Nate, and then a dark-haired fellow who took some interest in the mention that I was from Detroit. Turns out it was Detroit’s own Mike Skill, guitarist for The Romantics, who’s living in Portland now. We had a great chat – I am a Romantics fan from way back, and saw them in the UP a couple times in the 80s. We have several friends in common and Ricky Rat is at the top of that list.

Even though Black Book doesn’t really get into acoustic guitar repair, Nate could tell that I was a bit uptight about messing around inside my Martin, so he took the initiative, and my T-Rex 2-way tape, and got the pickup secured for me. The Brian May dude got it back in tune, tested it out and handed it back, good as new. I was so grateful, and it just eliminated a bunch of stress for me. They wouldn’t take any money, and I returned a few minutes later with a couple CDs, but they’d locked up by then. Super cool meeting a Detroit guitar guy so from home, and the great people at Black Book. You guys rule!

I bopped around that neighborhood for a few minutes, stopped into Mint Gallery Records , then headed over to Overlook Park to chill for a few and call home. The Tigers were losing and TrooperGirl22 was a little spacey on the count of just finishing an intense yoga class, but we had a nice chat. Things seem to be mostly copacetic at home; she promptly cleaned the house after my departure, and it will remain in that exact state until Hurricane Jeremy rolls back into town in a week and a half.

I parked in front of The Gilded Raccoon Wine Lounge and met Danielle, the owner. I ate a burger and enjoyed an IPA while I loaded in and set up. She asked me what I wanted for pre-show music and I said Bottlecap Mountain – Electric Love Spree, so that was soon filling the room. My pals from the UP Guy, living in Portland now, and John, in town from Minnesota for a conference, came with literally a roomful of friends and it was great to see them after such a long time. I went on at 6 and played until 7 to a good room of attentive and responsive people. It was one of those nights where I could play the quieter stuff and tell some stories, and those are the best shows.

After my set I sold a good amount of merch to my friends and their friends and a few strangers, packed up and loaded out. We all hung around while the house band set up and played their great old-timey music to a decent room and a few dancers. A little after 8pm it was hugs and goodbyes and I headed east towards Idaho.

I drove 3 hours in the pitch-black night to Pendelton, Oregon on the south bank of the Columbia RIver. I’m sure it was lovely scenery – I could see occasional shadows of mountains and cities glowing in the distance, but it was a dark night. No northern lights here, unlike back home apparently. I was good and wiped out by the time I landed at my motel in Pendleton. It’s a mom-and-pop joint called the Rugged Mountain Lodge, and let’s just say to stress the “rugged” part. Honestly, it’s fine – clean and comfortable, the wifi works, and they have coffee. No problem.

Today I drive to Boise, where I’ll play the Spring Creek Brewing Company tonight at 6:30. Big thanks to Danielle, John, Guy, and everyone who was there last night. It was a great kickoff to the run, and a good stress-reliever after the setbacks with the vehicle and guitar. Xx

October 11, 2024
Boise, Idaho

I left the rugged Rugged Mountain Inn in Pendleton, Oregon around 10:30 and headed east towards Idaho. The stereo in my rental is a fickle wretch, and we haven’t come to terms yet on how she’ll behave between the phone and the iPod, and I’m still cursing my Dollar Car Rental beat-down. Just so we all have some closure there, here’s how it’s played out. I made that rental through AAA and they took my complaints back to Dollar who said “he booked through a third party and they should have told him he can’t leave Oregon or Washington” so AAA passed that back to me, and I was like…”um you guys realize that YOU are the third party here, right?” and they (Dollar) offered me a $30 voucher so I told AAA to pass along to them that they can stuff their worthless voucher where the sun don’t shine and just wait till my new road blog comes out – you may go bankrupt. So here we are.

Eastern Oregon is new territory for me and it’s basically patches of plains and patches of mountains, but really pretty mostly. I crossed into Idaho and checked out the Snake River Overlook Rest Area for a minute as I navigated a digestive event and promptly texted my bandmates back home who are sorely missing and patiently waiting for my digestive reports and were glad to hear things are copacetic on the road. I checked into my dive motel near the airport in Boise, organized my merch, which was a hot mess from the Portland show, and had just a few minutes to chill before I had to head out for the gig.

The Spring Creek Brewing Company is in the hills about 8 miles north of Boise in a new community that seems to be slowly turning into a city of its own. I met Andrew, the manager who’d booked me, and Katie, the server who got my delicious porter, Bavarian pretzels, and steak tacos. The room was cavernous and empty, and I was gearing up for a weird night. About 10 minutes before I went on a steady stream of people came in and sat down and by the time I started my set I had a respectable audience. Still, people were ordering food and it seemed like music was at best an afterthought, and at worse, an annoyance. I’ve been to this dance before. So I eased into it, holding back on the “punk” a bit and things seemed ok, and a couple songs in I had people engaged and nodding heads and clapping so I ramped it up to my usual velocity as I went.

One couple, Wayne and his wife, saw some guy from Michigan was playing, did a little research, saw I was from the Upper Peninsula, and had to be there. Super nice folks with Michigan connections and stories and they were locked in all night. Another lady asked me if I knew any Fleetwood Mac, and I told her that I really mostly do my own songs, and I work really hard on them, but, actually, I do occasionally for a Fleetwood Mac tune, but it wasn’t anything she would know. “Try me…” she said with an air of confidence. So I explained that it’s a deep cut from their self-titled white album called “Blue Letter” and she looked at me like I’d just peed in her pool. So I didn’t do that tune, but I did “Beth” by KISS and dedicated it to her and she put a few bucks in the tip jar, even though she wasn’t after that one. I think she just felt bad for asking a songwriter to play “Second Hand News.” For whatever it’s worth, Rumours is one of my top albums of all times and one of these days I’ll learn “Never Coming Back Again” for these Fleetwood Mac people.

As the second set was rounding the fourth curve I was trying figure out how I was gonna wrap this up for the 9 people remaining, and I thought – “oh yea, I got this Stones song I been working over the summer…” so I did “Mothers Little Helper” and if I’m being honest it was ok at best, it’s a lot of words that my brain can’t organize cleanly, but it got the two old timers at table #1 excited – “that was OUR generation!” they said as they threw a couple Lincolns in the tip bucket. (Maybe now is a good time to explain that the tip bucket is a giant orange bowl with a jack-0-lanternn face I got for $2 at WalMart. Anyhow. Despite the early warning sings, it was a good night with friendly, vested people who were generous with their attention, patronage at the merch table, and tips.

I wrapped up at 8:30 and chatted with everyone and sold some tee shirts. They are in shock that I’m doing this – off to SLC, then Denver, Laramie… “Do you have a bus?” hahaha actually no, it’s in the shop, but thanks darlin.

So I loaded out and headed into the city to check out a couple places TrooperGirl22 had been to and assigned to my itinerary. First was the Whiskey Bar on Main Street. I like whiskey, and especially after spending the night in a joint with only beer. Traffic was a little intense downtown but I found a great spot and walked in to “Rocks Off” by The Stones and ordered a Pikesville Rye rocks. It’s a rock and roll bar with big black and white prints of The Who, Henrix, Soundgarden, AC/DC and more hanging on the walls. After “Rocks Off” it was “No One Like You” by Scorpions and I was sure now that these were my people. I was tired and I had another stop so I paid and tipped out and headed back to the vehicle.

Next up was Barbacoa Grill, an intensely decorated Latin/Mexican restaurant with a slightly gothic, almost castle feel with torches and giant wooded doors and the whole deal. I ordered an order of guacamole and chips to do and a High West Rendezvous Rye while I waited. A dude came over me to discuss his guacamole making strategy and asked me how I dig my guac – heat? Heavy citrus? Light garlic? Cilantro? “My man,” I said, “don’t be shy with any of that shit!” He smiled, gave me a fist bump, and said “You got it boss – have it out a minute.”

Back at the room I got into the guac and have to confess it’s quite possibly the best I’ve had. Intense flavors and perfect lumpy/creamy texture. For the first time since I got out here I didn’t have a long drive after the show so I was able to chill for a bit, do some accounting/paperwork, watch a little TV, and crash out at a semi-reasonable hour.

This morning it’s some instant oatmeal and coffee from the motel breakfast room, get this blog out, and get on the road to Salt Lake City. I’m playing at the Tailgate Tavern tonight at 9PM til Midnight, so it’s the longest show of the run, and my first time ever to SLC. Hope to check out the city and maybe the lake for a minute this afternoon.

THANKS to Andrew, Katie, and everyone at Spring Creek Brewing Company for a fun set. Boise rules. See ya soon. xx

October 12, 2024
Salt Lake City, Utah

I left the Rugged Mountain Inn with a half cup of luke-warm coffee and cranked The Peawees new album as I headed southeast towards Utah. I stopped at an overlook about 20 minutes out of Pendleton that faced west over a vast expanse of open plains. I wound up and down that mountain and back onto the high desert and put on The Pure Prairie League’s Greatest Hits. I was singing my fav tune “Aimee” with Diana in Portland the other night and it’s been stuck in my head. I need to get Tommy and The Wild Honey Collective to learn that tune with me.

Turns out you burn a lot of gas when the speed limit is 80 and the cruise is set at 86/87 and you’re zig-zagging up and down and around mountains. Seems to be a small tank on this rental too, so I stopped at the greatest truck-stop chain of them all – Love's – for a fill up and some hot coffee. I was able to listen to the entire Tigers game on SiriusXM, and while it wasn’t the end we wanted, it was a hell of a run, so not too bummed about it.

First stop in Salt Lake City was the Guitar Center, where dudes were thwack thwacking on electronic drums and playing Pantera riffs poorly on shitty, pointy guitars through terrible sounding amps. I got what I needed and got the hell out of there as fast as I could. Back at the motel I had some downtime so I practiced some guitar and called TrooperGirl22 back home. She’s holding her own, making sure the bunnies and opossums have their apples and the basil plant is inside when a thunderstorm is coming.

I headed a couple miles north into the city and checked out the Center City neighborhood. It’s a couple blocks of boutique shops, restaurants, and other businesses. I did a little window shopping and bought a patch with a raccoon on it that says “Eat Shit and Die.” At first I was all “nah, I don’t need that” but I kept going back to it and now it is mine. It’s pretty sweet.

From there I went to the Tailgate Tavern and loaded in my gear. It’s a cool dive bar on a busy-traffic main strip, with concrete floors, billiards in back, and a long bar along the north side. I said hello to the bartenders and got the lay of the land, had a delicious pulled-pork sandwich, and set up. One of the bartenders lived in Ishpeming for a summer a few years back and we talked about the UP for a while. Crazy how often that kind of thing happens. It took a few minutes to figure out the house PA but I managed. It felt good to be in a dive bar again after a nice wine bar and brewpub the previous two nights.

I went on at 9:30, exactly one and a half minutes after gleefully watching OSU lose to Oregon on my phone. The crowd was thin, mostly hanging back and playing pool, but there were a few faithful up front, paying attention and enjoying the music. As the night went on people came and went, and most dropped a few bucks in the tip jar on their way. One dude asked me if I knew this Eagles tune or that Eagles tune and I told him I kinda honestly wished I did but I do mostly my own tunes and he was all “but you just did a set of all covers!” and I was all “dude there were 20 songs and 3 were covers…and they were obscure so you don’t even know them anyway.” anyhow, he was cool, and he’s got big plans for me so I hope we can meet up again someday.

After a couple sets the crowd was thinning out and I wrapped up the live entertainment portion of the evening. I tipped the bar staff and made my exit down State Street and back to my motel. A bit wired up from the show still, and knowing tomorrow is going to be hectic, I set to restringing and replacing the battery in my guitar while watching an episode of Diff’rent Strokes. It was awesome. It was the one where Mrs. Garrett had a hangover (I missed whatever led to that) and Mr. Drummond wasn’t impressed, and they had words so she decided to quit, and Willis went on camping trip and there were thunderstorms and they got lost, but he was ok, then he came home and it was pretty clear that this family couldn’t possibly exist without Mrs. Garrett so she decided to stay and starting barking orders like the good ‘ol days as the credits rolled.

Today I am up and at `em before dawn with little sleep and off early for the long drive to Denver where tonight I’m at the Lion's Lair for a taping of the “Laxin’ at the Lair” podcast. It starts at 6:30. There will be some talking and a whole set of music, and I think it’s free, and it’s def early, so come on out you Colorado people, and spread the word! Xx

October 13, 2024
Denver, Colorado

I was on the road at 7:40am MT on Sunday morning, facing down an eight-hour drive east to Denver. Just east of the city a long ascent into the mountains yielded stunning views of the sunrise over the peaks and valleys and I really felt honored to be able to take it in. It reminded me of an early SlugBug tour where we drove all night from Cleveland to Worcester, Mass for a matinee show that didn’t happen, but we did get to take in the sunrise over the Adirondacks that morning, and it was worth it. Later that afternoon at a party in a ritzy estate north of Boston we were invited to by a friend, I’d drink a PBR with cigarette butts in it. Good times, but a story for another day, I guess.

The drive was fairly painless, cranking the new Billy Strings (my first foray into his stuff), Continental Drifters, and a Jason isbell playlist among other things while doing 87mph through the sagebrush plains and intermittent stretches of mountains. There were herds of pronghorn antelope through Wyoming and the roadkill count was 2 red foxes, 2 coyotes, 2 skunks, and the biggest porcupine I’ve ever seen. Poor fella. I turned south at Laramie (see ya tomorrow) and took surface streets through Fort Collins (hey Jon!) and got on the 25 south towards Denver just as the Lions game was starting on SiriusXM. A couple miles south of FOCO Karen Jacobsen - The GPS Girl added an hour to the drive as I hit a massive traffic jam that went south as far as the eye could see. Karen offered up a 40-minute time saver, so I took that, and zig-zagged south on county roads though farm country and past a pond with some pelicans swimming (I love pelicans!) and back on the 25 without too bad a setback. Way to go Karen! You still got it lady!

While America’s Team – the Detroit Lions – were issuing a proper beatdown on the Dallas Cowboys, and I felt increasingly confident that I’d be covering the spread on the wager I laid down before I left town, I drove into Denver and parked in front of the Lion's Lair Lounge. I was a couple hours early for my show so I bopped inside to check it out, met the bartender (who could pass for my pal Greg Hess, with his giant greying beard and Broncos’ jersey on) snapped a pic of the bathroom (#rockandrollrestrooms on Instagram/fb) and walked across the street to Illegal Pete’s.

Illegal Pete's is one of those IYKYK burrito joints around Denver that I learned about 10 years ago, almost to the day, when The Tucos first played Denver with Those Crosstown Rivals and King Rat. Illegal Pete’s has a program they call “Starving Artist” where touring bands can request, a few days before their show, a free meal. I mean, who does that? It’s a beautiful thing. And the burritos are AMAZING – made to order, great ingredients, and gigantic. A good selection of local micro-brews to wash it down and take the edge off of the drive, a call home to TrooperGirl22, and I was good to go. Thanks Pete’s – you guys absolutely RULE!

From Pete’s I walked a few blocks down to Twist & Shout Records – a great store we hit every time in town. I thumbed through the bins, grabbed a nice copy of the first Piper album (pre-solo Billy Squier) and had a lengthy chat with this tall dude (John?) who was checking out a copy of The Jam – Setting Sons in the New Arrivals bin. We talked Jam/Weller, Bangles, Paisley Underground, Westerberg, Mould, REM and more. Hope he reaches out and we can keep in touch!

I dropped my records off in my vehicle and loaded into the Lion’s Lair. They’d turned off the Broncos’ game, which was well out if hand in favor of the Chargers, and I got to watch the end of the Lions/Cowboys game. I was awesome to get that win, but our star defensive lineman, whose family are nearby neighbors of ours in Plymouth, broke his tibia and will be out for at least a while.

I knew my internet pal and staunch supporter Steven would likely be making the trek up from Monument for the show and he sent me a short list of requests, each song was one I’ve never played live before. The dude knows his deep cuts! So I took advantage of the empty bar and got my guitar out and strummed through “Wet Cement” off my new record so I could try it for him. 80% of the song is gravy, but the middle section is super weird and I couldn’t remember it exactly so I just came up with something relatively close.

The Lion’s Lair is a square room dive bar with a stage in the corner and a 3-sided bar just off center. This was my first proper “stage” of this run. The gig was a podcast taping of “Laxin’ at the Lair” – a music performance set then a couch chat with the musician(s) and hosts. Tony was leading the setup and after some technical issues with the PA we were in business. Steve and his wife Jackie arrived, and my good friends Angie and Andrew showed up a few minutes before I started. There were a faithful few bellied up to the bar and paying attention, and it was a loose but fun set. “Wet Cement” went ok for its stage debut, and I messed up “Huckleberry” so I started it over so they can edit the good version into the podcast.

After the set they pulled a couch on stage and I sat between Tony and the other host Emma, and we had an in-depth talk about my music and history. Tony has some extensive touring under his belt, so he is no stranger to some of these stories, and Emma clearly did her homework about me and my record and dug deep on a couple topics. After a few minutes the discussion turned to the rat problem in Denver, and we talked about the Rat Czar in NYC and the rat-hole in the sidewalk in Rogers Park, Chicago. I liked the part where there’s a giant black rat that Emma meets every time she takes out her trash and the fella doesn’t like her much, a potential threat to his lunch, I guess, but she kinda puts up with him in weirdly beautiful almost symbiotic way. It was a super fun chat and should be available on I Heart Radio and all the other podcast streaming places soon, so I’ll be sure to post links when that happens.

I said goodbyes with photos and hugs to Steve, Jackie, Angie, and Andrew and had a nightcap with Tony and the owner, Thorne. Thorne is a great guy who knows my pals Two Cow Garage well and for the second time last night the discussion veered to The Jam and Paul Weller, who he’d just seen in San Fransico. Demi was tending the bar, and I made sure to thank her for booking me for the show, after my long-confirmed show in Palisade was cancelled a couple weeks ago in a truly shit move that left me without a stage, a meal, and any income at the last possible moment. Demi, Thorne, and the podcast crew bailed me out and, in the end, it was a show that was almost certainly more fun, albeit less lucrative financially, than the Palisade show would have been. Oh well, I sold some merch and did fine, and meeting these people and seeing my Denver friends easily trumps a few extra bucks, so I left with a full and grateful heart.

I drove out to my motel in the suburbs with the gas gauge on fumes and checked in, had a nightcap, did some accounting, watched some Sports Center, and crashed out around 1am. BIG Thanks again to everyone who was a part of last night in Denver – my third show in this great city, first solo-acoustic show, and it was loads of fun!

Like Palisade, my Boulder show scheduled for tonight and confirmed in friggin’ June, was cancelled the same week, because “sorry we don’t do Monday shows, I thought it was a Tuesday. Good luck.” Thanks pal, but I’m again screwed out of a show/meal/income with no time to recoup. What is the matter with these people? Zero respect for the work and struggle of touring musicians. Zero. So I plan to bop around Boulder a bit, hopefully connect with my niece, and maybe crash an open mic night somewhere on the east slope tonight. Stay tuned. Xx

October 14, 2024
Longmont, Colorado

I had the luxury of downtime yesterday morning with no travel and not even a gig booked for Monday night. I had the same motel for 2 nights, which is a mid-tour treat I always try to work in, to have a little extra `laxin before the second half of the run. I watched some Sports Center and Seinfeld, which I haven’t seen in a long time, and found that it holds up surprisingly well, as opposed to, say, Friends, which feels pretty cringe to me these days. I had a little episode in the room where I lost the remote control and couldn’t find it anywhere. I tore the room and the bed apart about 3 times and even went back to the breakfast bar in the lobby to see if I’d left it out there. Just as I was giving up I found it sitting in plain sight, next to my keys, phone, and laptop. Thing is I was searching for the white remote with grey buttons from Salt Lake City, not the black remote with white buttons from Denver. Shit is starting to get blurry from day to day.

I filled up my rental and drove into Boulder, a city I’ve never been to before. First stop was past the giant and popular open park at the foot of the mountains and up Flagstaff Road to Panorama Point – a pull-off and viewing area that presents an amazing view of Boulder and the valley beyond. There is a layer of smoke in the air from some wildfires in Utah and Wyoming, but the view was still spectacular and I took it in for a few minutes before moving on.

From there I went halfway back down the mountain, took a left into the city, then up Sunshine Canyon Road and this is where things got intense. Karen Jacobsen - The GPS Girl did her best to keep me on the right track but at one point she told me to turn off the main road onto something like looked more like a mountain bike trail than a road, and I missed it. Next thing I know I’m climbing these steep hills and navigating hairpin turns on a shaky gravel road that skirted a cliff that would mean certain doom should a mishap occur. I stuck with it, Ozzy Osbourne’s Diary of a Madman album prodding me forward, and eventually made it to the top. Phew, glad that was over. It was one of the more intense drives I’ve done.

The Sunshine Canyon Road Viewpoint is just a small, dirt parking area that was mostly vacant except for a young couple with mountain bikes on their Subaru either getting ready to leave or stay, it wasn’t clear, but there may have been shenanigans of one sort or another involved. I waked through a few pine trees and boulders and took in the amazing panorama view of the Sawtooth and Reed Deer Mountains and other summits in the India Peaks Range. The wind was blowing and the cool, mountain air tasted great. I did my best to pause and appreciate the moment, as these times in the mountains are few and far between for this midwestern kid. The view looks so much like the opening credits of Grizzly Adams that I had to google where that was filmed, and turns out it was Utah. I took one last long inhale and exhale and walked back to the rental and prepared for the ascent.

Karen took me down the opposite way I came, which I assume is the way I would have come up had I not missed that half-ass road she told me about. Well, things were going ok for the first mile or so, then Karen says to take a right on 85 or something, and there’s no real road in sight, just some sorry excuse for an overgrown driveway, but still, I didn’t want to get myself into another situation, so I backed up and went down the “road” she suggested. That was a mistake. That last disaster of a road was the Autobahn compared to this thing. I literally feared for my life as I descended down a steep hill on loose, single-lane gravel, next to a drop-off that had to be 1000 feet or more. It was terrifying. There was nowhere to turn around, and if a car came at me there was literally nothing I could do. Welp, the decent into Hades ended at the cinder block foundation of someone’s mountain home in the early days of construction. The road just ended. I got out and looked for the road just to see if I was missing it, but nope, it was gone. I had one choice – turn around and go back up that goddamn trail to the main road. I didn’t allow myself to think much about it, I just got in, and did it. I cranked the gas and I cranked Ozzy and just somehow zig-zagged back up that sucker, spinning out around those hairpin turns, and somehow got back to the main road, feeling relieved and a little proud that I’d survived. I also chuckled at the beating this rental car was taking. I stayed on the main road that quickly turned into some welcome pavement, and easily made it back into the city from there.

My first stop in Boulder has been on my list for about 45 years – the Mork & Mindy House. A nice tourist lady and I took photos of each other in front and exchanged pleasantries, then moved on. It’s a nice house, and a checkmark I’m not chasing anymore. From there I parked off the main drag – Pearl Street, where I hit a record store and some local boutique craft, vintage, and local goods stores. I passed on an original pressing of KISS – Love Gun that even had the original cardboard gun in it. I had plans to meet my niece Ella and her boyfriend Quincy with about an hour to kill so I popped into the Boulder Illegal Pete's location for a pint and a call home. I’m happy to support Pete’s after they fed me the night before, and the setting was good for my needs. TrooperGirl22 was still at work, gave me a lengthy checklist of things I had to aske Ella and Quincy about, and we had a nice chat.

I met Q & E at the The West End Tavern at the opposite end of Pearl Street for dinner. My niece is going to CU Law School and we’re all very proud of her. Quincy is doing some amazing work around underwater sonar sounds (it gets a bit technical for me, basically studying sonar ocean floor mapping and the noises and sounds of the oceans). It’s all very exciting, and by all counts they’re doing fantastic out here, away from Michigan and seeing the world through wide, young eyes. It was a fantastic visit, and good to see that they’re adjusting so well. I told them about the remote control incident and the near-death gravel road descent/ascent. We took a photo and said our goodbyes, grateful that we’d had the time to connect.

From there I headed about 20 miles north up to Longmont, where I popped into a cool bar called The Speakeasy on their main street. It’s a literal old speakeasy that has access to the tunnels under the city that were used for booze storage, movement, and consumption during prohibition. There was an “Open Blues Jam” scheduled, and if you know me, you know that ain’t my thing, but after my Boulder show for last night was cancelled a couple weeks ago I was unable to land anything else, so I thought maybe I’d crash their open jam and sell a record or something. This old timer shook my hand and asked me what I “did,” and I explained that I play my own songs solo-acoustic, and depending on how militant your definition of the blues is, I could hold my own. The songs are certainly depressing enough, if not that 12-bar formula these guys are after. “Well, that’s what I thought.” He said with a concerned grimace. “Here’s the thing, you gotta play with the band. We don’t just let people play solo.” Yea that wasn’t gonna work, and we both knew it. “But, you know fella…” he says, “you should head over to Bootstrap Brewing around the corner. I think they have an open mic going tonight, and that’s probably more of what you are after.” The moment I starting thinking about getting into my jammies and taking in some bad TV, he throws that out, so what the hell?

I drove over to BootStrap Brewery and met Denny, the host of the open-mic. He looked a little concerned at first, this rat-haired, bug-eyed stranger from Detroit asking about his open-mic night, but pointed me to the sign-up board and told me I’d be on around 8:20. I ordered a pint and watched some of the other participants do their best, playing great covers and originals, and one dude doing about 10 minutes of comedy. It was loose and fun, low-stress, and a friendly vibe. I went on as scheduled and played a short set of my A-list stuff. A couple songs in my friends from the area Angie and Andrew came in and helped to elevate the energy.

As I was wrapping up, the bassist from one of the previous acts got on stage, strapped on a Tele and started noodling. Under normal circumstances I’d have booted his ass like Pete Townsend did to Abbie Hoffman at Woodstock, but that didn’t seem advisable under the current situation, so I rolled with it, turning a bit so he could see my fret-board. He played some tasty, reverb-drenched country/western licks that fit well with my material, and it was a lot of fun! My time was up, but there was no one scheduled after, so we did another one of mine and he kept right up. It was a cool little moment, and I thanked him with a fist bump and smile.

I got a couple tips, had a beer with Angie and Andrew, and drove back down to my motel, where – after getting my room key reset – my black remote with the white buttons was waiting. I had a nightcap, always welcome after a night of beer, and crashed out around midnight.

Boulder is a beautiful city and I definitely want to spend some more time there, and in the surrounding mountains. I’m still pissed that my show got cancelled, and can’t believe how little value the word of some people holds. But, for two nights in a row, we made the best of it, played some songs, had some fun, made some friends, and now we’re moving on for the last five shows.

Tonight I am in Laramie, Wyoming, which I believe will be my 40th state played. I’m at The Great Untamed, opening for the Deacon Brown Blues Band, with doors around 7:30 I think, and music at 8. See ya there Laramie! Thanks for reading. Solo long, Colorado, `til next time. Xx

October 15, 2024
Laramie, Wyoming

Tuesday morning was slow-paced with a quick visit to the less-than-exceptional breakfast bar at the motel and a couple cups of coffee. Given the uncooked potatoes, empty egg tray, and watery, dog turd looking sausage links, I tried to emulate the master of the lobby waffle machine Gabriel Doman and make some myself. The process was a bit over-complicated but I got it figured out and even helped the nice lady next to me navigate the insanity.

I spent a few minutes cleaning the car and hit the highway north towards Wyoming. First stop was in Fort Collins, at a record store called Driver 8 Records. The owner Charles is a super nice guy I met when The Tucos played FoCo 10 years back and again when TrooperGirl22 and I attended a Micah Schnabel / Vanessa Jean Speckman show at Surfside 7 the night before a Jason Isbell/Lucero show at Red Rocks. I also met Jon Snodgrass that night, and I’m not sure he remembers much about that, but we’re pals now. Driver 8 is a cozy but very well stocked store. I found more things than I can take back home with my limited space, but I picked the top few and will figure out the logistics later. You FoCo folks can find my new record and a couple Tucos records there as well, so stop on in, pick one up, and support that great store!

It was a pretty easy hour from Fort Collins to Laramie. I cranked Tropical Gothclub and Tygers Of Pan TangI gulped down a crappy (trend here?) fast food burger and checked into my motel on the west side of town, facing the expressway and the mountains. I took care of some business, called TrooperGirl22, and read about the shooting of Ozzy’s 84-86 guitarist Jake E. Lee in Las Vegas. I’m a big Jake fan, and glad to hear he’s supposed to be ok, but what a crazy, random, sad story! I got a rare short nappy in, ate my leftover sandwich from The West End Tavern in Boulder the night before, and watched some Coming to America before heading into town for the show. The part where James Earl Jones (rip) is telling Eddie Murphy he can’t pursue Shari Headley anymore because he has a pre-arranged marriage waiting back in Zamunda, then the mother asks him “Do you love her? Then GO after her!” to JEJ’s ire kills me every time.

The Great Untamed is a wine bar/meadery that sits on the main drag of Laramie’s downtown. It’s a quiet little city – no high-rises or LED billboards advertising the latest pop music. Just main-street USA with some locally owned business that all close at 6PM and no shortage of cowboy bars. I met Scott, the owner, who is a tall, slightly reserved, but friendly and welcoming dude, and got loaded in. The venue has a sort of living room/house-show vibe, with couches and upholstered chairs around the perimeter. It was comfy, intimate, and felt right for a weeknight show.

Before long Eric and Debbie from the Deacon Brown Blues Band arrived and we had a nice chat about the town, our guitars, and logistics for the night. Their first date was in 1970 hitchhiking from Buffalo to Syracuse to see the Grateful Dead, and I thought that was amazing. Their percussionist Bob (aka Dr. Robert on Wyoming public radio) and his wife (um…Susan? Sorry!) came shortly after.

They set up and went on first, playing a short set of early blues and originals. Eric is a great guitarist and Debbie’s vocals lent some great texture. I played after them, pulling material mostly from my new record, with a couple oldies thrown in. Reception was good, the tip bucket was full, and I played well. Not bad for a Tuesday night.

I sold a few CDs, packed up, and loaded out. I stopped at Love’s Travel Plaza for a frozen burrito and some mini Nutter Butters and was back in my room by 10:15, picking up the replay of Dodgeball exactly where it left off when I left for the show 4 hours earlier. Not sure if I’ll ever make it back to Laramie again, but it was as good a Tuesday night as I could ask for, and a fine way to celebrate my 40th state played. I wouldn’t rule it out. Tonight I am in Bozeman at the Tune Up Bar from 9-11. I’ve got a daunting 8+ hour drive in front of me, I’m juiced up on shitty motel breakfast buffet and coffee, and I’ve got my Whitesnake/David Coverdale playlist queued up. See ya tonight Montana! xx

October 16, 2024
Bozeman, Montana

I left Laramie at 7:40am and just as I was leaving the downtown main drag a pronghorn antelope ran out in front of me, stopped, turned, and looked at me like I was an idiot. He then trotted off the road. I caught my breath, started to accelerate, and his buddy bounded out right behind him, right in front of me, trotting across the road. If I wasn’t awake before, I was now. The next 4 hours were sagebrush plains and brief stretches of mountains and hills. There wasn’t a single gas station for the first 4 hours of my drive, and by the time I got to Casper, Wyoming I was at about 40 miles left in the tank. Entering the on-ramp to the interstate (finally) I was confident that there would be a gas station soon. Nope. The gas gauge started beeping at me, so I called on Karen Jacobsen - The GPS Girl who told me there was one 20 miles away. Turned out it was 7 miles off the expressway in Midwest, Wyoming, no signs, nothing but desert, but it was out there, and I filled up for $3.07 a gallon and a $1.98 cup of coffee that could wake the dead. 14-mile detour but I was on my way again.

By now there was a pretty good haze in the sky and I could tell I was getting close to the fires. I crossed into Montana and took a left onto I-90 West. The smoke was getting intense. I could smell it pretty good at times, and the air quality went from clear to terrible on and off for some time. East of Billings I could see the fires on the mountains south of the expressway, varying sizes of smoke plumes filling the air. It was something I’ve never seen and it was pretty intense, especially when the smoke was getting thick and exits and roads were closed because of the fires. Things cleared up after Billings, I saw a mountain lion road kill (poor fella), another fuel stop, and I pulled into Bozeman, just shy of 8 hours after I left Laramie. I made great time but I was feeling road-worn.

My first stop was The Wax Museum, owned by my pal Kels. I know Kels from his Nashville days, and the early days of The Tucos; one of those meet-on-socials and eventually become friends in real life things. His store is awesome on the outside and well stocked and arranged on the inside. He’s carrying my new album “Dynamite Alley” and The Tucos “Candy Coated Cannonball” so stop in and pick one up! We had a quick visit, but there was a chatty ol’ hippie in there demanding Kels’ attention, and I was majorly strung out from the drive, so I didn’t stay long.

I checked into my dive motel, did my best to come down from the drive, and called TrooperGirl22 back home. I was feeling pretty frayed but there was little time to relax. I headed back downtown and got some dinner at Nina's Tacos. Terrible beer selection??, but great food and fantastic service. The enchiladas were amazing and the street corn appetizer was right on!

Tune Up Bar is a basement lounge beneath the swanky Armory Hotel in downtown Bozeman. There was a pretty good crowd gathered for the early 6-8 set by a guy who’s name I knew I wouldn’t be able to remember, but hopefully he’ll hit my up and I can add it in the comments. He did some great originals and some cool covers with a great voice. Always cool to hear someone doing a Townes Van Zandt tune. His last tune was really cool, sort of ascending in minor keys till the end with great lyrics. We were exchanging pleasantries right after his set and he was helping me with the PA when this Tommy Lee looking dude walks up to him, interrupts us, and says “Do you know the band Three Dog Night? Do you know them!? Do you know the song `The Show Must Go On?` Dude brother you would NAIL that! You have to learn it. That last song you did? Yeah, it sucked, not good. Lean that Three Dog Night Tune.” It was offensive as hell, but also kinda funny that someone would be that obnoxious, oblivious, and rude to actually say that. I told the singer guy that I thought the last song was awesome (it was) and F that rude Tommy Lee MFr.

I went on at 9PM to a respectable crowd that ebbed and flowed throughout the evening. Some were more interested in socializing than listening, and others were dialed in and digging it. One attractive young lady walked up after a few songs, stepped on the stage, waved a $20 in my face and asked me if I could “play something from the 80s.” I went around a big circle in my little brain trying to think of what I might possibly do to honor this request, but had nuthin. Damn I knew I shoulda' learned “Jessie’s Girl.” I told her I play my own songs, and that songwriters work really hard on their songs, and it would be cool if people would listen with an open mind. “But don’t you want this place to come alive?” she asked, confused (and oblivious), but innocent and well-meaning. I said I could try a couple things she might know, but probably not from the 80s. She said ok, threw the Jackson in the tip bucket, and sat back down with her companion. 5 songs later I stumbled through “Beth” by KISS, which I keep in my pocket since someone requested it in Milwaukee in 2011. She seemed happy and satisfied and left before I started the next song.

I did good on merch – this dude Brendan was very supportive – thanks dude! Without getting too deep into the weeds or airing any dirty laundry, it took some work to get paid, but after some negotiations with a bit of stubbornness, it all worked out as it was supposed to. The people at the bar/hotel are good people, and they made sure it was cool. Kels and I got caught up a bit, geeked out about LESLEY GORE, and said our goodbyes `til next time, whenever that might be. As I loaded up my gear, Brendan was on the sidewalk looking for somewhere to grab some food. I got the distinct impression that there was an opportunity to hit the town and get into some trouble with him, which under different circumstances I’d be down for, but the voices of angels and my exhaustion won out this time and I headed back to my dive motel. After a nightcap and some TV I crashed out around 1am.

This morning kicks off the final stretch – Spokane>Vancouver>Seattle>home. The next 3 days are going to be intense with plenty of travel, a couple late-night drives, a snow storm, 2 international border crossings, a brief rehearsal, 3 more gigs, and a very early flight on Sunday. It’s a miserable, cold rain outside, the first I’ve seen since I left Michigan and landed in Seattle a week and a day ago, and there’s supposed to be a mountain blizzard coming. Good times. See ya at the Jackson St Bar and Grill in Spokane tonight for 2 sets at 8PM! xx

October 17, 2024
Spokane, Washington

I was greeted by 35f temps and snow-covered mountains when I stepped out of my motel in Bozeman yesterday morning. The rain had subsided, thankfully, but there was a fall/winter chill in the air, and I couldn’t be bothered to listen to TrooperGirl22’s advice when she told me I might want to bring a jacket last week, so I pulled on my flannel, loaded my rental, and headed west towards Washington.

The drive got pretty intense, pretty quick, as I ascended into the mountains and some pretty serious snow squalls, rainy areas, and patches of dense fog. These are steep, winding roads, and there were patches of ice and very low visibility. I did my best to stay cool and catch what scenery I could, and got the occasional respite in the valleys that lie on the other side of each mountain. I dealt with all that for about 4 hours before it cleared up as I crossed through northern Idaho and back into Washington. That’s stretch of I-90 though northern Idaho is amazingly beautiful, even with some limited visibility.

First stop in Spokane was Go Records where I thumbed through the new arrivals and chatted with the owner for a bit. He was nice enough to give me a record box to either send or protect the records I’ve purchased on this run on the trip back to Detroit. After about 15 record stores since I hit Portland last week, I am a bit done with it for a bit, and I’ve got a pretty good stack from this run and my September runs that I still haven’t listened to, so I should be good for a minute. Well, there is one in Vancouver near the venue…

I parked the rental at Overlook Park and checked out the panoramic view of the creek and amazing bridges carrying commuters into and out of the city. I called TrooperGirl22 who was heading out for drinks with a friend, and got caught up about things back home and filled her in on the Bozeman show and drive to Spokane. I got caught up on my phone for a bit, snapped a few pics of the canyon, and headed back into the city.

I stopped at Guitar Center to return something I bought in Salt Lake City and didn’t need and don't want to fly home with, and as I was walking up a dude ran out the front door with a guitar and broke into a sprint around the corner. That’s odd, I thought, then as I was waiting in line, the manager on duty was giving the thief’s buddy and probable accomplice hell, but he didn’t seem too concerned about the whole thing, surprisingly, and the accomplice knew he wasn't getting in trouble. These dudes looked scruffy and strung out, but it seemed like a pretty simple operation, to be honest. Still, thieves suck, even when it’s against a corporate giant.

I pulled into the Jackson St Bar and Grill and asked myself what the hell I got myself into. This bar is a few blocks off the main drag…off of any main drag, behind some warehouses, sitting alone on an abandoned dark block. I walked in and it got quiet as everyone turned and looked, then casually resumed their conversations and pool games. I introduced myself to the bartender, who called the sound guy, Shane, and put in for a burger and some cheese curds for me. There was a weekly pool-night thing going on, and that was clearly the focus of the room. The crowd were clearly locals, and it seemed like the last thing they’d want would be some aging punk rocker from Detroit singing some sorry-ass songs about cats and hangovers, but I was there, and they fed me, so I was resigned to doing my best.

Shane, the sound engineer, got me dialed in quickly and it sounded really nice up there. I got right into it and people were quiet at first, but by song 2 they were applauding and digging it. My pay was a door deal (for civilians, that means people pay a cover charge and the musician gets whatever comes in, or a percentage of it, for better or worse. No guarantee or anything), but there was no door person, and these kind of places usually don’t charge regulars anyway, especially when they’re there for the pool night, so that pretty much crushed any hopes of walking out a wealthy man, but I put out my Wal-Mart jack-0-lantern tip bucket and hoped for the best. One lady named Pam put in a fiver, then a couple songs later got pissed off to see that was all that was in there, so she gave me a wink, said "I got this." and held up the bucket and berated her friends, who promptly dug into their wallets and tossed a decent pile of cash in. THANKS Pam!!

One dude walked in with a big Koffin Kats patch on his jacket, and he seemed to be digging it, and we had a good chat after the set. Jeff is a good dude who knows the Kats and has booked them out there before. We traded some road stories and agreed to stay in touch. He’d seen the post that the bar put out about a guy from Detroit playing that night and that was enough to get him out. The same thing happened in Boise a week ago. It seems whenever a venue actually helps promote (novel idea), it helps attendance.

A guy named Gray came on stage between songs and started telling me a lengthy story about how he used to party with Sly Stone in the 70s and what his (and Sly’s) drugs of preference were. Yeah, you can probably imagine. Dude is in his 80s, a real character, and seems to like spinning a yarn so I just smiled and took it in while I waited for the opportunity to play my next song. Someone yelled “Gray – your shot!” from the pool table and I continued my set.

The show was actually pretty fun, way better than I thought when I first walked in, the crowd was generous with their tips, and I left feeling pretty good about things. I said goodbye to Jeff and Pam, Shane and the bartender, and continued west down I-90 to Moses Lake, Washington, about 90 miles west of Spokane. The scent of cow manure is intense, to put it mildly, and it was dark so I couldn’t see what was going on, but I even checked my shoes to make sure I didn't step in anything and was tracking it around.

So thanks to The Jackson Street Bar and Grill for a fun night! Today I am driving to Vancouver, BC to play at Trees Organic Coffee and Roasting House, and that includes the always-stressful border crossing. Tomorrow is the last show of the Dynamite Alley Fall 2024 Solo-Acoustic Tour in Seattle, at Blue Moon with Joe Reineke, Mike Spine, and Laurent Chavez Moving in Slow!

I am tired. Xx

October 18, 2024
Vancouver, British Columbia - Canada

I had one of the better motel breakfasts of the run after waking up early in Moses Lake, Washington and watched the sunrise over the plains from my room. I texted JakeE Jacob back home because he’s a big fan of the lobby biscuits and sausage gravy, and they were really good. I miss these adventures without the boys here, so sometimes I send them mushy messages or digestion reports just so they don’t feel left out. The smell of cow manure still permeated the air as I loaded up my luggage and take-in gear. The air was crisp, below freezing, and a layer of frost covered the ground.

I drove through about an hour of organic alfalfa fields then ascended into the mountains and through some of the most scenic land I’ve seen. I crossed the Columbia river and got an awesome view of Mount Rainier in the east before turning north just west of Seattle. By now it had started raining, and it wouldn’t stop for the rest of the day. I hit Bellingham ahead of schedule, around noon, and stopped at the UPS Store where I paid too much money to send 20lbs of dirty laundry, un-needed gear, and other things I won’t be needing for my last 2 shows home. That’s gonna be a pleasant box to open next Friday. Dude who helped me is a Lions fan and we talked NFL for a few minutes, but he didn’t give me the fan discount.

I checked into my motel and it’s a dirty, depressing, ridden-hard joint just north of town. The hallways are dirty and smell like BO and cigarettes, and the WiFi sucks, but the front desk lady was pleasant and happy to get me into my room early. I brought almost everything in so the border crossing into Canada would be as simple as possible, called TrooperGirl22 back home, who’s planning for a night out in the city with the girls, ate a banana and some peanut butter Ritz cracker sandwiches, and left for Vancouver. I was at the border in about 20 minutes, and like last time TG22 and I went to Vancouver as tourists, it was a lengthy wait to go through customs. Dude was pleasant, wanted to hear about my tour, seemed impressed, and sent me on my way. Always a big sigh of relief when you get your docs back and the “Have fun.”

Vancouver traffic was every bit as terrible as I remember, and it took me an hour to get from the border to the north-side, about 15 miles maybe. By now it was raining heavily, and my streak of amazing weather was over. If you know me, you know I hate rain. Not gonna get into it here, so don’t @ me: I’m glad it rains, I know we need rain, it’s just depressing and consistently obtrusive to any plans I have. I wasn’t going to get those beautiful downtown Vancouver-mountain and inlet views while enjoying a stroll on the river walk, as I’d planned, but I had to remind myself that you can’t control the weather, and I had a job to do, so I resigned myself to dealing with it and finding some dinner.

I found a parking spot, took half an hour to download the Vancouver parking app, register my rental, add a payment method, and set myself up for an hour in the pouring rain where no meter maid was gonna be checking anyway. I had dinner at PAUL Café which is a European style, mostly Euro-located café franchise that TG22 and I discovered in Paris a few years ago and always try to hit when we can, where they have one. I had an awesome decaf latte (can’t do caffeine that late in the day or I’ll be awake until Tuesday), a chicken club sandwich, and some truffle fries. It was very good, albeit a bit pricey, and a nice place to get out of the rain, that was nonstop and heavy. I tried to do a lap around the block but it was just too shitty out and I was getting drenched, so I got back in the rental, drove by and checked out the riverfront for a bit, and took my time finding a parking spot 3 blocks from the venue.

Trees Organic Coffee and Roasting House is a narrow, brightly-lit room with a little clear spot in the back where they have live, mostly acoustic music a couple times a week. There was already a good crowd gathered when I loaded-in at 7:30 and said hello and thanked the owner Marq for having me and supporting touring independent musicians. He gave me the lay of the land while juggling the needs of his customers and setting up the modest PA. I met Evie From Earth (can't tag) and then Victoria Carbol, both also playing, and then my pal Brock from SLIP~ons and Doughboys came in, drenched to the bone, and we had a great night talking, sharing war stories, and making plans. Last time we were in the same room was likely August, 1988 at Blondie’s in Detroit, when Doughboys opened for ALL.

Evie went on a played a great set of originals to a full house and got a great response. She’s a really nice girl who works in audio engineering and we talked studios and technology for a few minutes before her set. I played second, also to a full, attentive, and responsive room, and while my fingers weren’t doing everything my brain was telling them to, and my guitar was struggling to adapt from mountain blizzards and desert heat to salt-water ocean-downpour humidity, I played ok and had a great time with so many faces in front of me. It was easily one of the best nights of the run. Victoria and a friend (sorry – not sure I met her!) went on 3rd and played a great set with amazing harmonies and synergy, and got a fantastic response. I don’t think anyone left from the time the music started until it ended, and it was a great, positive, supportive night, and I was really grateful to be a part of it. Thanks Marq and your staff at Tree’s! It was a special night!

I said hello to a couple people who loved the set and wanted my Spotify info, then said goodbye to Brock. We both got a little emotional thinking about the roads that led us to that moment, over the last 35 years, and headed out into the pouring rain, and 3 blocks to my rental. I was drenched. I hydroplaned through the city, onto 99 South, and up to the border, where there was a line of about 20 cars and just one lane open. It went pretty fast, and after about 15 minutes, and explaining to the customs guy that all I was bringing back was a Slip-Ons record and some leftover fries, I was back in the US. 25 minutes later I was back in my room, drenched again from the 20 yard walk from the rental to the door, but grateful to be back after a long and intense 7 hour trip to Canada.

This morning I ate a shitty, frozen/microwaved Jimmy Dean sausage croissant sandwich and some yogurt from the breakfast bar, took care of some business, and made arrangements for my last day and last show of the tour and the year. Thanks again to Marq, Brock, Evie and Victoria for a great night in Vancouver, and I hope to come back some day!

Tonight we wrap it all up at Blue Moon in Seattle. My pal Joe Reineke (The Meices, Society of the Silver Cross, Alien Crime Syndicate ) is playing, and I haven’t seen him play in 20 years, so I am stoked for that, and Mike Spine band, and Laurent Chavannes/Moving in Slow. Doors at 7, music at 8, so let’s end the run in style and have a blast Seattle! Xx

October 19, 2024
Seattle, Washington

I left my dive motel in Bellingham, Washington around 11am in a light rain and warmer temps that Friday in Vancouver and headed south on the 5 towards Seattle. The rain was on and off, and I was relieved that the torrential downpours from Friday had lightened up a bit. I drove the 2 hours to my motel near SeaTac Airport without stopping and was grateful for the early check-in. With a few hours to kill/chill I called TrooperGirl22 who was getting ready to go see The Sadies and Duende at Third Man Records with her girlfriends. I changed the strings on my guitar and watched Michigan get embarrassed by Illinois, and headed out.

I headed over to my pal Joe’s house and the Temple of the Trees Studio west of the airport where he was setting up for a video session. I met his wife Karyn and his dog Domino, sporting the cone of shame as the girl’s going through a rough patch. We ran through a couple songs we were going to play together at the show and Domino seemed to think they sounded good, content to nap on the arm of the couch while we played. I said “not bad” and Joe asked me if that was the bar we were setting and going for, with his high-pitched cackle and half-sarcastic smile. I said we could elevate it and shoot for “loose” if he wanted, so we aimed for that instead. Seemed like a reasonable goal.

I drove into the city and the traffic was intense but manageable. I got a great parking spot for a reasonable price across the street from the Blue Moon and loaded in. I said hello to Dooley, the owner/booker/bartender – a bit of a salty dude, but working hard to run one of the longer-standing venues in the city. He pointed me to a gyro/shawarma joint around the corner I could hit before soundcheck so I headed out in the rain to Shawarma Time and had an awesome mixed beef and chicken shawarma wrap and took half to go for later.

Back at the venue, I did a quick sound check after the headliners MIKE SPINE band and before Laurent Chavannes and Moving in Slow. My friend Wanda and her boyfriend Travis surprised me – I’d last seen them a year and 2 days ago when The Tucos played Dallas, and they’d since moved to Seattle, and then, in another “is this happening?” moment, Dave, bassist from Best Kissers In The World, introduced himself and his friend Tina. I was/am a huge fan of that band and it was a bit surreal, but more about that later.

Moving in Slow went on first, playing some tight and polished, well written and executed indie guitar pop. These guys are probably half the age of the rest of the performers that followed, and they’ve only been together for a few months, but they played a great set to an energetic and growing crowd, and it was refreshing to see some younger dudes bringing it without the cynicism and jaded perspective of us more aged vets.

Joe went on second, playing a couple The Meices songs, an Alien Crime Syndicate song or two, and one of my fav Society of the Silver Cross songs – the Tom Waits-ish “We All Belong to Time,” as well as a couple cool unreleased songs. I haven’t seen Joe play since September, 2004, and he rarely plays solo-acoustic, so it was a treat for sure. After a few songs, he called me up and I scolded him under my breath: “Dude, I saw your setlist at your house today, and ‘Daddy’s Gone to California’ was on it. What the F?” but it wasn’t meant to be.

We played The Meices “Uncool” and my song “Hallmark Holiday” together, and I joked that it “wasn’t bad, eh?” and that 25-year-old me was quietly freaking about the collaboration. After that Joe stepped down and I went right into my set without a break and played maybe 10 songs for a respectable and receptive crowd. I was a bit amped up from playing with Joe, but also with the realization that this was the end of the tour, and especially the insane, non-stop, 12-day Pacific Northwest/Western US run that was culminating at that moment. As usual, I finished with “Huckleberry” and cleared the stage for Mike and the band.

The Mike Spine band were more rock and less Americana than I expected, in all the good ways! They had a punk edge, but it was more high-velocity indie/alt-rock than punk. Great songs, unique-sounding and convincing vocals, and great 2-guitar interplay. The dual Teles were sweet, but they sounded best when Mike played the Les Paul, which added a nice texture to the other Tele. They closed with as good a version of “Cortez the Killer” as I’ve heard, and the night was complete. I chatted with Dave and Tina for some time, and Joe joined us for a bit before he had to get back to the studio. I sold the very last copy of my record that I had with me, a small victory there, and Wanda headed off in a Lyft to an EDM concert across town. I thanked Mike, Dooley, and the soundman and headed out myself.

I got back to the motel around 12:20am, a short 3 hours before I had to leave for the airport to return my car and catch an early flight back to Detroit. By the time I annihilated the other half of my shawarma and got my 80lbs of luggage dispersed between a suitcase, a guitar case, and a backpack, it was nearly 2am and any amount of sleep was pretty much out of the question. I laid down, watched a little Sports Center, rested my eyes for an hour, got up and deactivated my alarm before it even went off at 3:10am. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, zipped up the bags, and dragged that 80lbs of gear, unsold merch, laundry, newly-purchased records, and electronics to the rental for the final time. It was the middle of the night, but somewhat warm, and wet, but not raining. I was still buzzing from the Seattle show and Vancouver the night before, but excited to get home.

I turned in the rental car with 3558 new miles on it and was glad to be done with that sucker. That’s like driving from Detroit to Rochester, New York every day for 11 days in a row. I had to chuckle at the beating I put on her, but I also paused for a moment to give her the Jeremiah Johnson head nod as I remembered the pickle she got me out of on that insane steep gravel "road" in the mountains outside Boulder (go back and read that blog if you missed it!). I won’t be buying a Mitsubishi Outlander any time soon, but I suppose you could do worse. I like to think she’ll miss me too, in a Stockholm Syndrome kind of way.

At the terminal I was glad to check the suitcase, weighing in at 44lbs, with 6 to spare before an upcharge, and got through TSA Pre-check without issue, the other 40+lbs in my backpack and guitar case. I got a coffee at the only open vendor at 4:45am and fired up the laptop and started working on this blog. Exhausted, and nearly 24 hours since my last sleep, I half-dozed on an off for most of the flight while watching the Jaguars beat the Patriots and listening to Lillie Mae and landed in Detroit just as the Lions went down 10-0 to the Vikings in the first quarter. TrooperGirl22 picked me up, and it was awesome to see her. Hurricane Jeremy is back in town, and her clean house is doomed, soon to be riddled with nasty laundry, a new stack of records, and loose cables and pedals that have to find their way back to the band room in the coming weeks.

So that’s a wrap, folks. What started with an Ontario/Quebec run in September, then through Ohio and a great Record Release show in Ypsilanti, some Tucos dates with WATERSHED, then these insane 12 days out west is over. The last 2 weeks are a blur, and honestly a bit on the intense side when it comes the miles and drives, but after I come down I won’t regret it. It’s surreal to think that on this run I met and hung with members of The Romantics, Doughboys, Meices/Alien Crime Syndicate, and BestKissersInTheWorld. All of that stuff was the soundtrack of my life from 1989 into the 2000s, and if you’d told me then that in 2024 I’d be touring the NW and hanging with those guys, I’d tell you that you were off your rocker. Life is crazy awesome sometimes.

So here’s to keepin’ at it, despite the guarantee reneges and late gig cancellations by promoters and venue owners who’s word and integrity isn’t worth a pile of cow shit outside Moses Lake, Washington. To Dollar Car Rental, who's word is no better, and waits until you’ve flown 3 time zones away and run your credit card to tell you that you can’t leave the state with their vehicle, so you’re left to pay double at a neighboring company. And, through requests for “something from the 80s” and open-mic nights where “you gotta play with the house band” and old fellas who jump on stage between songs to tell ya how they used to smoke crack with Sly Stone in Los Angeles in the 70s. You can’t make that shit up.

Love to all my friends who came out between Portland and Seattle – and Canada and the midwest before - way too many to name – but one of my favorite things about touring is seeing you all. Back to civilian life for a bit, finish the Tucos record, and figure out where the hell to go from here. Love yaz xx