Tour Journal: Day 7

Woke up this morning to the sound of the person in the room above me apparently training for a marathon…  I say this because they literally did not stop clomping around for a good 90 minutes…  Yeah, I was watching the clock.  I tried taking an extra Valium to see if I couldn’t catch a few more hours of sleep since the show tonight will be a late one, but it wasn’t to be.  I finally decided to grab a shower, but the power suddenly went out.  I could clearly hear someone else talking to the management about it from outside, so I figured it would sort itself out in due course, which it did…  At which point, there was no hot water.  Great.

Well, I just kicked around a bit – catching the latest Daily Show on streaming to give the water heaters to do their thing – all the while floating in the benzo haze that comes with dosing twice in a 12 hour period – and eventually was able to clean up and get the day started.

Oh, that’s the other thing…  In all of the prep for the tour, I’d completely forgotten about my own supplies and the fact that my next appointment to get refills of the myriad pills that make my day-to-day possible fell smack in the middle of the tour.  Luckily, Angel was able to get my prescriptions and fed-ex them up here, so today is actually the first day of the tour that I’m able to drop the severe rationing – seeing how much pain and discomfort I can take between doses so I won’t run out – and actually hit some kind of equilibrium.  It’s a rather comforting thought.

I decided to walk across the bridge into the better part of town to see about grabbing some breakfast…  I hadn’t been in the car for a solid 12 hours and that suited me just fine.  As I walked, I got to thinking…  Portland is a fine little town; definitely a cool place, but something always rubbed me kind of the wrong way here.  It can’t really be the weather, since I’ve never had any qualms in Seattle, but I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

As the cyclists blew by me in their utterly elaborate get-ups and I found my way to some little cafe for some kind of extremely elaborate dish (I couldn’t even tell you what was in it or how it was made – just some eggs and toast or whatever was not to be found on the menu) it sort of dawned on me.  LA’s always been kind of weird to me on account of people seeming to be really intense about all of the wrong things (a condition that seems to have spread along the 10 to Phoenix, as well) whereas here, people seem to be intense about just about everything.  On the surface, it’s an extremely casual town, but as you really get into it nobody does anything halfway here.

Take the cyclists.  They don’t just get a bike…  They get the most elaborate bike for their given purpose, the wardrobe to match, the particular kind of bag, etc.  Seems like a lot of that goes on around here (that actually seems to be the main running joke on the very funny Portlandia).  It’s not a bad thing at all…  I admire people’s dedication to doing everything with gusto, and that’s certainly been a running theme to how I’ve approached music (both the songs themselves, and what we do with them), but I have trouble relaxing when everyone around is extremely involved in something or other all of the time.  Overall, I’d say that’s more my problem than Portland’s, but it means I don’t exactly fit in here all the same.

As I made my way back over the bridge, I noticed a little sign for the suicide help line…  Not, in and of itself, and uncommon sight on bridges pretty much anywhere I’ve been, but this one struck me as a little odd.  There was a big picture of a flower on the top, and the text was quite small.  I tried to imagine, being in a suicidal state of mind, how somebody might notice what the sign is about in order for them to consider making the call.  I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t some academic somewhere who came up with the design, having found that the dominating picture of the flower somehow increases the odds of someone calling or something like that.  Like, this little piece of metal could very well be the culmination of somebody’s doctoral thesis.  Kind of an odd field of study, but when you’re looking to do something original with your research I guess you take what you can get.

This also had me peering over the bridge as I crossed, trying to figure out where one would jump if that’s what they were looking to do.  The first part was a drop straight onto concrete, but not terribly high to where it would be a sure thing (and this seems like something you would want to be sure about).  Any further up, and that puts you over the water, which I imagine would break your fall some.  I guess you’d need to go head-first on the concrete part, but that strikes me as being perhaps a bit on the gruesome side.

Anyway, I also caught a bit of vertigo doing this, which terrified me.  I’ve never been good with heights, though a passer-by probably wouldn’t notice.  That’s the upside to being terrified all of the time…  That an unseen bomb is suddenly going to go off, that every stranger is a potential assailant, that each time the phone rings it bears the worst of news, or that even the mailbox is looking to indirectly kill me with whatever horrors lay within those envelopes…  You learn to stop showing weakness (lest those assassins in every corner see an opportunity to strike).  I don’t know what this has to do with anything, but it is what it is.

Well, the rest should be arriving soon, so I need to start working on my state of mind so I can perform tonight.  The show isn’t ’till late, so maybe (if anyone has the urge) I’ll have some company to walk downtown a bit and settle my nerves.  I think about the hollywood version of what playing is supposed to be like…  Thinking of 8-mile and Mr. Mathers vomiting from the pressure and freezing up.  It isn’t like that at all…  It’s just something you do.  I imagine that if I wasn’t already so anxious all of the time, it wouldn’t be an issue at all.  Or maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe that’s why all of those rock stars shoot all of that smack and guzzle all of that hard booze…  To get the courage to get on stage.  I’ve never played an arena, so who knows?  I guess I assume that that would actually be easier – you don’t have to interact with the audience before or after the show at all, the promoter isn’t breathing down your neck about how many people are going to show up, professionals are handling all of the technical stuff, all of that.  It’ll be interesting to see if it ever happens.

All right, off to hopefully find some serenity and hopefully play the best show yet.  Time will tell.

Posted in Lisa Savidge/Lisa Savidge, National Shows, Tour · April 7th, 2011 · Comments (0)

Upcoming Shows…

The RSS Feed is giving me trouble on the upcoming shows tab (although it may be working by the time you see it), but in the mean-time, here’s what you need to know (there are more coming, but I don’t want to announce them ’till I know more):

Sat Mar 5 2011
9:00p Vagabond Ballroom
Scottsdale, AZ With Jonathan Sakas and Factories
Age Limit: 21+

Fri Mar 11 2011
7:00p Hoodlum’s Records
Tempe, AZ Age Limit: All Ages Tickets: Free
Details: In-Store at Hoodlums Records, right next to Changing Hands. This is a super-cool record store that’s been very supportive of BCR, and now we want to support them!

Thu Mar 17 2011
8:00p The Goat Head Saloon
Mesa, AZ With tremulants
Age Limit: 21+ Tickets: Free
Details: Part of the Tremulants residency… Probably the best-kept secret in town… Free shows, cheap drinks, full menu (including vegetarian and vegan options) cool bands, and great sound!

Fri Apr 1 2011
8:00p Hollow Body @ Trip
Santa Monica, CA Age Limit: 21+ Tickets: $8
Details: 2101 Lincoln Blvd, Santa Monica, California 90405 (note that it’s just south of Pico & the 10)

Sat Apr 2 2011
2:00p The Tribal Cafe
Echo Park, CA With Spel, Clayton Joseph Scott, All Destroyed Momentarily, and The Dirty Hippys
Age Limit: All Ages Tickets: $3 donation suggested
Details: Monthly Saturday music fest with Spel & friends @ Tribal Cafe

Thu Apr 7 2011
10:00p The Knife Shop @ Kelly’s O…
Portland, OR With Terwilliger Curves and Brother Elf
Age Limit: 21+ Tickets: $5
Details: Our first time in Portland… Cool!

Fri Apr 8 2011
8:00p The Mix
Seattle, WA With Murder Party
Age Limit: 21+
Details: Headin’ up to Seattle Next… See you in Georgetown!

Thu Apr 28 2011
7:30p Rhythm Room (Official)
Phoenix, AZ With The Growlers and Infantree
Age Limit: All Ages Tickets: $10
Details: This is a Stateside show… We’re supporting The Growlers and Infantree… Two really great national acts that we’re really excited to be playing with!

Sat May 21 2011
8:00p The Rogue Bar
Scottsdale, AZ With The Premiere
Age Limit: 21+ Tickets: Free
Details: The next installment in the Black Cactus Records showcase series. This time Lisa Savidge and The Premiere, plus another local and a national (TBA)

Posted in National Shows, Phoenix Friends · February 27th, 2011 · Comments (0)

Civil Disobedience at The Wall

The Puff Heard Around the Arena

OK, so I’m planning on writing a more comprehensive review of the show itself in the next couple of days, but there was one particular aspect that intrigued me so much that I wanted to put it out there right now.

First of all, as has been previously reported, Roger Waters wanted to change the spin on The Wall for this latest tour, transforming it from a personal narrative into an indictment of nanny government, corporate culture, and war.  For example, in “Goodbye Blue Sky” they replaced the animation with a new one of bombers flying in and dropping a variety of symbols until the landscape was filled with blood.  They were, off the top of my head, crosses, dollar signs, crescents, stars of David, Mercedes logos, and Shell Oil logos.

Also, during Mother, the main screen was taken up by a huge surveillance camera while references to 1984 were projected on segments of the wall (“big brother is watching” and the like), creating the impression that the overprotective mother in the song was actually the state.  In case that was too subtle, after the line “Mother, should I trust the government?” the words “HELL FUCKING NO!” were projected onto the wall.

All of that, plus some Animal Farm references, Iraq war footage, and an overall Banksy kind of feel had left the crowd pretty riled up.

So, after “Goodbye Cruel World.” they took an intermission, and Angel and I decided to head out for a quick smoke.  As we navigated the hoards of people rushing to buy their $70 anti-consumerist hoodies and $12 Budweiser (the irony was not lost on me – the capacity was way above what the venue was designed to handle, leaving the hallways looking like the opening scene of the movie, while the feverish devotion and consumption for the band looked more like drones from “In The Flesh”), rumors began to spread that there was going to be some kind of difficulty in getting outside to smoke (my own way of rebelling – by giving $4 a pack to Phillip Morris and $3 to the government).

We soon saw what the problem was.  US Airways Arena doesn’t have a designated smoking patio – you need to get your tickets scanned out so you can leave the premises, and then get scanned back in.  There were 4 people with scanners up against 500 people having nic-fits and unaware that they would need to – one way or another – get rid of any alcohol on them before they could proceed.

Somewhere in the madness, a voice cried out “Fuck it!  Let’s light up right here!”  And light up they did.  First one, then a half a dozen, then everywhere you looked.  I surveyed the situation (as is my habit from my military days) and quickly assessed that the scanners were not guards.  They carried no weapons, had no uniform that signaled some kind of authority, and weren’t on radios calling for backup.  This situation was not escalating – this isn’t The Nile of yore or a rave, so tear gas and riot cops were out of the question- the smokers won and got away scott-free.

Now, Angel and I still went outside because we wanted the cool air and to walk around a little bit.  For us, the smoking tends to be more about the ritual than the fix.  I will say, getting outside was a great deal easier once the people feeling the most urgency to get through no longer felt any urgency at all.

This comes to the part that puzzles me, which is what did it all mean?  The horror show in the hallways?  The people unironically throwing up the hammers?  The unrest in the exit hallway that turned a bunch of average folks (Pink Floyd is nothing if not appealing to a demographic that includes just about everyone) into straight-up anarchists?

A couple theories entered my mind, and they went something like this:

1 – Roger Waters is the greatest genius in all of history.  He managed to take a show written out of distain for his fans, and turn it into a mechanism by which his fans would behave in the most disdainful way possible, thus proving his original hypotheses.  This seems a little too cynical, so I’ll let that one go.

2 – Roger Waters is the greatest showman in all of history.  He managed to instill such a feeling of anger and resentment into otherwise respectable citizens that they instantly began to behave like punks on a bender.  ”I’ll support a cause I believe in, even if it does cost me $70,” “I’m living in the day – getting drunk tonight without a care for my wallet or my body tomorrow,” or “I don’t believe in your law, so I’m not following it – and I’ll do it right in your face just to prove a point.”  Perhaps this feeling is only transcendental, and perhaps people were only willing to act on it insofar as it was convenient to them (I am often quoted as saying convenience is the most powerful force in the universe), but it is there and real nonetheless.  There it is:  Just the right amount of cynicism.

But more important still than the motives and the roll of the show, is the actions of the defiant smokers themselves.  As of this writing, I am having a hard time deciding if they were right or wrong in what they were doing.

On the one hand, you’ve got the very definition of a “nanny” law, taking the right away from business owners to establish their own policies on smoking that are fair to everyone.  Then, there is the ghettoization of the smokers themselves, being hustled through all manner of hoops and tucked away in a corner for “their own good.”  Add to that the unintended consequences of the law (such as the severe fire/security hazard that results from having all of the doors effectively barricaded by mobs of people) and the scientific angle that the observed quality of the air in the crowd did not drop in a meaningful way (thanks to the already poor quality, extremely high ceilings, and wind from the doors), and the whole smoking ban starts to look like an unjust action that actually serves to make things worse instead of better.

On the other hand, you have selfishness.  Clearly, the anti-smoke laws (based on pseudoscience as they are) were not put in place for the benefit of the smoker.  Meanwhile, the smoker wants to smoke now, so like a child throwing a temper tantrum, they decide that they’re taking what they want, regardless of the consequences to others.

So which is it then?  Childish behavior, or protest of a clearly flawed piece of legislation?  I am interested to know what people think, but I also want to know your thoughts beyond weather or not you support the smoking ban.  If you are an avid cell-phone user, what if the same situation took place to where you had to cross a certain line to make a call and there was someone you REALLY needed to talk to ASAP?  If the government severely restricted you access to public restrooms would it, at some point, become right to pee on the sidewalk?  Can you come up with some better metaphors?

And lastly, if this was a display of legitimate protest, could many more instances actually be effective in bringing down the law in question?

Please comment below with your opinions.

In any case, if the intermission was so stimulating, imagine how mind blowing the actual show was…

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Posted in National Shows, Political Stuff · November 28th, 2010 · Comments (1)

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