prosolar mechanics
sound breaking the monotony of space
It was one small but significant step for prosolar mechanics.
Back in May of this year, we were talking shop with plug spark sanjay at WE Festival in Wilmington. They said, "in the fall when we go out on the road, we really want you to come with us." We said yes. We believed them when they told us how good it could be and we needed to find out first hand. We were tired of waiting for a better reason to go. We knew that if we intended to take ourselves seriously sooner or later we'd absolutely have to get out there. So we did.
We could only do the final two weeks of the plug spark sanjay tour, mainly because of our assorted work responsibilities. But it was enough to give us a sense of what it's like out there and perhaps what we're made of. So what did we learn?
Get out there. If you are at all serious about your band and you believe in what you are doing, rest assured you will find others who are going to believe in you along the way. The first and most important lesson I learned is that the audience for unknown, innovative, uncommercial sound is alive and well. All you have to do is get out there and find them. I am sure that even as little as two weeks on the road did more to raise awareness of our band than a year's worth of local shows could ever do. It gave us something to talk to people about, it gave us more credibility in the towns we visited and gave our fans back home something to look forward to — our return.
Make friends. Go places and play your music like you mean it. Be attentive to the bands you play with and exchange information. Hang out and get to know the locals. Appreciate whatever it is you get — say thank you to the club owner and bar tender, and tip the staff well, especially if you get your food and drinks for free. When we played Montevallo Alabama, we received free food and beer. We and plug spark sanjay took good care of the waitress. Later that night she told us it was the first time bands had EVER tipped her — she was stunned. Thank the booking people, the other musicians you share the night with. These people will help you. They will buy your records, feed you, tell you jokes, give you places to sleep. Your faith in the human spirit just might be restored.
Take care of your wheels. They are your home on the road and if they fail you could be fucked. We had a complete service of the van prior to leaving, and she held up just fine. We have a top rate mechanic who knows exactly what we need our van to do and he checks it out for us before any long trip. We bought good gas, checked the oil. We love our Chevy.
It isn't easy. There were plenty of times I'd look in the mirror, see the bags under my eyes and feel the pressure building in my chest from yet another all night saga of rock and cigarettes and poor sleep and think, "What the fuck do I think I'm doing?" There were long, difficult conversations about what was holding the sound or the performances back from their fullest potential. There was dealing with idiosyncrasies of people I thought I knew very well before we left, only to fully appreciate how much tolerance it takes to share very small quarters with other humans. There were panicked last minute phone calls to book canceled dates and racing to make it to clubs when we were behind schedule. I had my moments where I thought I'd really crack, especially after days with little sleep and less privacy.
There were hacking coughs, sore throats and clogged up sinuses. I caught a terrible cold half way through the trip and thought "fuck it." I wanted to go home. In Richmond, before we played I actually told Alex I might have to cancel the rest of the trip. He just wisely looked at me and said, "Okay, whatever you need to do." It was really hard feeling like shit so much of the time, but then we'd play and I'd feel fine. I think the adrenaline just took over, better than any over the counter or on the street pill could ever do me. It really showed me how just how good playing makes me feel. The act of playing of the music, for as little time as you actually do that on the road, compared with all the driving and waiting around required, is the core of the experience and it's what makes all of the inconvenience and the work involved feel completely reasonable.
It was work, damn it. As much as I respected plug spark sanjay before this trip, while we were on it my understanding of what they endure and go through to make their 9 week excursions work deepened to a whole new level.
You don't need much, so bring less shit. The more you take, the more you have to be responsible for and the more you stand to lose. It wasn't the amount of gear, and god knows we have more than most, that became the biggest nuisance. It was the disorganization of t-shirts, the large suitcases, the number of back packs, books and magazines that were cracked open one time that kept cluttering up what precious space we had for human cargo in the van. And we thought we'd done a pretty good job of packing sensibly. Sheesh.
Have fun. Even if the show tanks out, nobody comes or nobody cares, there are always fireworks battles to be had, pool tables in strange places, inside jokes and stories to be created for future telling to all your friends. If it isn't fun, why do it?
There were a lot of other lessons in there along the way, but somehow these seem to be the most significant. For all of the difficulties of being on the road, the poor health and the moodiness, the bruises and dirty clothes, the little (and sometimes not so little) spats with bandmates, when it was over I was really, truly and deeply sad. I think we all were sad to some extent, although the idea of being back with family and friends and pets and familiar beds was welcome. We realized that we actually could do this again and again and we could do it for longer. That was really the main goal of the trip for us — to see if we could and most importantly, if we really wanted to do it. We came back with our answer in the affirmative, runny noses and all.
This entry belongs alongside part 8. While part 8 covers the road from the inside — the nightly details, the anxiety, the politics of sharing a van — this is what I wrote after coming home. The intention was to file a day-by-day diary in real time. Day one made it. The rest of the pages were built and left empty.
So here's what day one looked like.
Friday 10/26 we got off to our usual timely start and left NJ at around 10pm in a flurry of last minute details. Got the call from Joe of Plug Spark at about 4pm that day — Ernie's grandma had passed away and he had hopped a bus back home to attend the wake and funeral. He'd be back to join us in Charleston, SC on 11/1. But in the meantime, could Tom learn some of the songs and fill in? In my customary dictatorial fashion, I assured Joe it would be no problem. Luckily Tom was feeling it. Now all we had to do was scrounge up a copy of Fuse Time for the Working Force — the last PSS cd. See, we'd sent every last copy we could get our hands on to clubs we were trying to book for the last two weeks of the tour. Finally Dewey Defeated came through. We picked up their copy, they gave us one hell of a rock and roll send off and we were on our way.
Tom rocked out in the van, listening over and over to the Sanjay cds trying to prepare himself to hop up onstage. What a trooper.
Damn did we make good time. The one upshot of leaving at 10pm at night. We were on the other side of DC by 1am — an amazing feat of driving for 95 South on a Friday night. Adrenaline kept us going for several hours until at around 6am, when we were well into North Carolina, the lines on the road began to jiggle and sway. Even the most inane conversation I could muster couldn't keep Alex going — 3 miles to the next rest area was even too dangerous a trek in that state. But we made it, somewhere outside of Greensboro NC to the oasis of the highway. We pulled in and slept uncomfortably for about 2 hours. Surprisingly, it was all we needed to make the next leg of the trip. Good thing, because it was all we could get in such cramped uncomfortable quarters this vessel affords us. We love our van, don't get us wrong. It's just not meant for sleeping 4 adults carrying an entire cargo load of gear.
Overshot Athens, GA on purpose to go rest up and hang out with Christie Crowley of WE Fest fame and her beau Judd, who was kind enough to put us up for the night. At around 1pm we arrived, stinking and reeling from the 14 hour ride we'd just taken. We napped for a few hours, got some grub and then got ready for the show in Athens.
We arrived in town, eager to hook up with Plug Spark, and spied a line a mile long around the block from where we were playing. Disappointment started to sink in. What do you mean the Strokes are at the 40 Watt tonight?
Held out some hope that we might get some overflow from the kids who couldn't make it in to see the Strokes, at least. After all, it was a sold out show. We weren't even a block away. Let's just say it was a rather thin night. Luckily Christie and Judd were there to lend support, as well as some incredibly drunk guy who'd driven from Chapel Hill to see Plug Spark. There was also Kip from Chocolate Kiss and XXX Records, who helped fill in for Ernie that night on keys. There was also the other band, Four Star Volcanic, who were quite pleasant to talk to and enthusiastic. We all rocked it out anyway, and it sounded surprisingly good in there. Tom had his first night on drums with Plug Spark Sanjay and did a damned good job for no rehearsal. First show down, 14 more days to go.