Area 2

Hmmm ... I guess I should have been keeping a journal while this was happening. It's tough to recall so many details at a later date, but here goes ...

(My gratitude to Greta Brinkman and Tom McKay, who supplied some of the pictures.)

On July 26th we all met up in New York to embark on the Area 2 tour. Moby would be headlining a bill of stylistically diverse musical acts on the main stage of the tour. There would also be a DJ tent for those so inclined. The event was to open with the Irish band Ash, followed by NYC favorites the Blue Man Group, Busta Rhymes, DB, and finally Moby. Our time slot was usually from 7:30 until 8:45.

Two sleeper busses were to escort us down to Washington, DC, back through Philadelphia, New York and Boston, and then across the country to Seattle, stopping at points enroute. The ride to this first gig in DC was the beginning of the bus experience for me. I may be the MD, but in some ways I'm the baby of this bunch - I'm surrounded by seasoned touring veterans, all of whom have done many a hitch on a tour bus. After the bumps and rattles of the small charter plane in Europe I welcomed the bus, and so I watched as people got into their bus routines.

DB had loads of books and CD's, and Sterling a volume of DVD's. Garson remained glued to a cellphone, phoning in piano lessons to students in California. Gerry made sure we were stocked with Barry's tea, his favorite Irish blend. The bus was littered with practice instruments and music software. Smokers practiced their craft in the rear lounge, nonsmokers up front.

All of these shows were in outdoor covered amphitheaters surrounded by a large lawn area, which in the vernacular of the road are called 'sheds'. The first few gigs happened to be in the worst of the typical East Coast hot & humid summer weather. DC was absolutely oppressive. I felt for the crew when a mid-afternoon cloudburst hampered all on our first day of rehearsal and soundcheck - which, as it turned out, would be our last time to do either.

We'd usually show up to the site around 4 in the afternoon, right around the time of the Ash/Blue Man Group changeover. Blue Man was one of our favorites - they had an ungodly number of drummers and percussionists on stage, and yet still managed to sound cohesive (I was quite partial their version of 'White Rabbit'). We'd usually be backstage dressing and warming up while Busta was doing his set, so I only saw bits and pieces of his thing. I did manage to stick around for a couple of Moby shows. I really liked the way he adapted his music - very loop and sample oriented - to a live band. His light show was fantastic as well.

DB goes to work ...

We tended to go for a similar setlist each day, given that we were on such a tight schedule (75 minutes) and there wasn't much opportunity to experiment. Our first gig went something like this:

Life on Mars
Ashes to Ashes
Cactus
Slip Away
China Girl
Fame
Waiting For You
I Would Be Your Slave
I'm Afraid of Americans
515 The Angels Have Gone
Heroes
Heathen

Everyone Says Hi
Let's Dance
Ziggy Stardust

We'd tinker with this somewhat over the course of the tour, and certain gigs afforded us the opportunity to stretch out a bit as well. Still, we'd need to end our set close to or on time - everybody did - or the whole show would go overtime and be subject to fines for violating the local curfew.

It was a cool little scene. Certain routines fell into place immediately, such as hanging with the other band members in catering, going into the audience to watch other bands, and in my case, locating an Internet connection to send all the mail I'd written/answered while on the bus. The faces of all the crew, management, and production people became very familiar, and very quickly. Our time slot meant that we could hang out for an hour or so after we got off stage and meet our guests, relax a bit, and catch some of Moby before piling into the bus at 10pm to drive off to our next destination. Usually there'd be pizza waiting for us in the bus. Depending on the location, the quality ranged from amazing to Tombstone.

The Early Show

Given the time of our show I was worried at first if we'd have a full enough house - 7:30 was still fairly early, and most of these venues were out in the boondocks. I got over that early on - not only was the seating area full, but the lawn would also fill as people would venture over from the DJ tent and vending booths. Most of our audiences were fantastic. Then again, I'd I have to say that about most of our audiences this entire tour.

Day would usually turn into night while we were onstage, which was another one of my favorite parts of these performances as I do love twilight. Unfortunately, this made our light show meaningless for the first half of the gig! Once dusk kicked in, the lighting would become more useful. By the time we'd hit 'Ziggy,' our lighting director Laura Frank could really do her thing.

Shiny Happy Philadelphians

Our first three shows (Nissan Pavilion, near DC; Tweeter Center, near Philly; PNC Arts Center, New Jersey) went off without a hitch, considering the fact that we were playing in an oven. We also changed front of house engineers, as Pete Keppler took over from Pablo Wheeler, who had previous commitments. Hats off to Pete (even my hat), who had to take over at PNC without a soundcheck.

Weather continued to mess with us when got to New York, this time in the form of a violent thunderstorm which cut short our set at Jones Beach. It was quite a rush though - the lightening punctuating 'Slave,' the looks of worry on the faces of the crew, the look of abandon on DB (who seemed to enjoy the rain immensely), the effort to stay dry when a gust of wind would blast us with a sheet of rain, and the glances upward to watch the lighting rig swaying in the wind. Jones Beach was not a shed, so the audience wasn't covered. As one would expect, everyone got drenched.

The next morning we set sail (by bus) to another Tweeter Center, outside of Boston. Our set was expanded due to the absence of Busta Rhymes, for reasons unknown ... though we didn't know that until we arrived, and extremely late at that - the traffic on I-95 was bumper-to-bumper the entire trip. It felt like a privilege to stretch a bit as the usual hour and fifteen minute set felt constricting to me, especially after our European blowouts. We still had to end at our usual time so that Moby wouldn't go overtime, but we managed to squeeze in several more songs.

Boston was also notable for the clams in catering, which of course made Garson and Slicky's day.

Oh, Canada

We were off for Toronto straight after the Boston show. We knew in advance that Busta wouldn't make this gig, so a longer set was planned ahead of time ... which was fortunate as this show was to be recorded for a future CBC (Canadian radio) broadcast. We crossed the border at some point in the middle of the night, which I barely remember. We then had a day off, so I was able to hook up with several old Toronto friends - members of the band Joydrop among them, who treated me to a fantastic lobster dinner in their home. They even made dessert ... bless 'em! My old cohort Spookey Ruben also made the gig, bearing as gifts his latest twin releases, 'Bed' and 'Breakfast.'

The Toronto show was rather inspired. Perfect weather, longer setlist, GA (general admission) area in front of the stage. Gail wore the huge Afro wig, which she dramatically tore off of her head during 'Hallo Spaceboy.' The Canadian audience was extremely in tune with DB - they seemed to know every word to every song, and weren't shy about it. They were nearly as passionate as the Manchester audience.

After Toronto, we made our way into the American Midwest - Detroit, Chicago, and Denver. We were now completely in a groove. Bus, gig, bus, sleep, hotel (if we had a day off), bus, gig ... repeat. We were engrossed in the PBS/Ric Burns documentary 'New York,' among other DVD's. I recall a bit of a Pacino-fest around this time, what with 'Heat' and 'The Godfather' Parts I and II. Watching these films with Earl Slick is a treat, as he knows all the lines and says them with the perfect relish.

We never actually hit the city of Detroit, as we weren't spending the night in the area - it was off to Chicago straight after the gig - so we bypassed the city itself completely. The 'Detroit' show was a decently received performance, but the audience seemed a bit polite and/or quiet, so it was a tough one to call.

After the show we continued on our westward trek to play yet ANOTHER Tweeter Center outside of Chicago. Just who are these Tweeter people, anyway? Why are they collecting sheds? And why does every American venue have a corporate sponsor attached to it? When did that start happening ... was I asleep or what? By this point I could see how things get fuzzy for people on tour, especially in America. All the towns have become way too similar - McDonalds, Starbucks, Jiffy Lube, Barnes and Noble, strip malls, cookie cutter condominiums ... crossing the country by car sure doesn't have the allure it used to.

The weather was certainly on our side by now. After the Jones Beach thunderstorm we experienced pleasant summer weather for the duration of Area 2, even in the usually damp Pacific Northwest. Chicago was especially nice - clear skies, dry and warm (if only I had a bike ...). We had a day off there, so Slick and I hit the bookstores and found a decent trattoria for lunch. I also hooked up with several Indiana University friends, who were determined to get me drunk before the gig. We were visited backstage by the guitarist Rick Nielsen of Cheap Trick, an old friend of Slick.

Heading West

After the Chicago gig we began our first full-on overnight drive to Denver ... over a thousand miles. Sleeping on the bus was an issue for me - I'd usually end up nodding off in front of the TV set on the couch as opposed to the bunks. We stopped a couple of times enroute for fuel, and at the last one of these - around 8am - we all got out for a stretch/drink/pit stop. This was a truck stop somewhere in Nebraska, in the middle of corn and cattle country. The gift shop was extraordinary, a one-stop for all your Midwestern needs (The Bible on tape, faux Indian headdresses, corndogs, ammo. Well, maybe ammo ... I didn't ask). Evidently, the woman working at the counter said to DB 'We're out in the middle of nowhere, and we don't give a damn!'

It was here that we met Mr. Jackalope. He was just sitting - mounted, actually - on a wall of the shop. Supposedly half rabbit/half antelope, the Jackalope is right up there with the Unicorn on the list of Things That Don't Exist, Except On The Fox Network (I think Mr. J ranks just above Bigfoot and Compassionate Conservatism).

We took turns being mesmerized in front of this thing. We didn't buy him right there on the spot, oh no ... a Jackalope purchase needs a fair amount of consideration. He did impress us enough to become a topic of conversation for days, as well as a bit of the stage banter. For the moment I contented myself with a can of 'Ass Kickin' Peanuts,' complete with a caricature of an angry donkey on the label. I left the can on the bus by mistake, so I never found out how Ass Kickin' they really were.

After meeting Mr. Jackalope, we got back on the highway for the final stretch into Denver. People began to wake up en masse. Gerry made tea, Sterling cranked up his iTunes, various people tried to check messages on cell phones (to no avail, as we were truly out in the middle of nowhere). At this point the drive took on a bit more meaning for me, due to a) being awake, and b) having spent my formative years in Denver. It was the place where I first discovered music and learned to play, so returning there decades later to perform with one of my major musical influences - not just as musician but as bandleader - was beginning to have some impact.

I figured the Denver show would be like Detroit - politely received, but not too passionate on the part of the audience. This was real meat-and-potatoes Bush country after all, with a major country music influence (and Randy Travis we ain't, last I checked). How wrong I was ... this was the most fired-up crowd since Toronto.

It was also the first gig where I saw people in the audience wearing Ziggy/Aladdin Sane era makeup. There was a guy holding a sign that said 'Bewlay Brothers' (which I believe might have had some influence down the road ...) This was a GA audience, so the energy level was a notch or two higher than at the seated venues. The only issue was the DJ tent, which seemed to be set up right on our collective ass. The booming of the bass was enough to destroy our monitor mix in a big way.

Denver turned out to be a very pleasant surprise. David found a fantastic (and locally owned!) bookstore called The Tattered Cover. I also had the privilege of enjoying a buffalo burger.

Anybody over there seen B Flat?

The Left Coast

It was then onward to the West Coast and the final three shows in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Seattle. Our first order of business was a performance with Moby on the 'Tonight' show with Jay Leno. This was a dreadful experience for me, based purely on the fact that I experienced one of the worst, yet most lifelike, nightmares of my entire life the previous evening. It was bad enough to ruin the following day, gig or no. No worries Jay, it wasn't your show's fault ... I could have won the lottery and I still wouldn't have enjoyed it.

Like Jay Leno is really reading this.

We did a couple of songs with Moby, 'Cactus' and 'Everyone Says Hi.' I was also overdressed for the occasion - I showed up in a long sleeve shirt, expecting a few hours of run-throughs in air conditioned (read: Arctic) splendor. This gig was a break with the usual 'Tonight Show' routine, so we played outside ... and so I baked in the sun like a casserole. Or something like that.

Speaking of food, the NBC commissary was wretched. Nice bananas, though.

Backstage at the 'Tonight' Show ...
and people think MY headgear is interesting ...

It began to feel like it was all winding down, and in a couple of respects that was OK by me. I wasn't sleeping well on the bus - this is definitely an acquired taste/skill, and it was beginning to catch up with me; I'm not such a fan of LA either (sorry, LA friends! I'm glad it works for you, though ...). The whole guest list drama was becoming tiresome, as submitting the names of your friends was by no means a guarantee that they would get in. The Clear Channel people - or whoever was running this end of things - were bungling this to no end on a daily basis, causing a number of eleventh hour cellphone calls from distraught friends stuck outside the gate.

I was also getting over the venue security. Most of these people are okay ... but some are a bit dim, some are morons, and some of them are Machiavellian to the max. All it takes are a few idiots to spoil the party.

I got sick of watching fans being abused in an attempt to keep 'order.' I understand that these people are just 'doing their job' and all that, but the level of roughness I witnessed from the stage never used to happen when I went to concerts in my teens and twenties (Perhaps these people are using the Rolling Stones' 'Gimme Shelter' as a model).

I also got tired of being denied entry backstage, even with my band laminate. 'What part of 'All Access' aren't you getting?' was a question I had to ask more than once. Often I'd pass the same security people on several occasions, who would have to see my laminate over and over again, and ask me what I was doing there. This was only an inconvenience to be sure, but after a while it became a real hassle.

(Rant, rant, rant ... you're lucky to be on tour Plati, shut the f*ck up already ...)

Three SoCal surfer dudes ...?

We pulled out of LA and onto Interstate 5 for the overnight drive to the Shoreline Amphitheater, in the vicinity of San Jose. I'd always heard about this place as it's the site of the annual Neil Young Bridge School Benefit. David played that gig with just Reeves Gabrels in 1996, the first year I worked with him. I think they played an acoustic version of 'Let's Dance' at that show, which might be where he got the idea for the introduction to our current version ('might' be ... I'm speculating, for you Digger-Uppers of DB Clues and such). Another interesting factoid - the venue is built on a landfill, which certain people swore they were getting a whiff of.

Shoreline was, I thought, a rather inspired gig. Our shows had felt consistent ever since Cologne, with some feeling more special than others. Certain audiences seem to 'get it' more than others, which of course has everything to do with that. And this one definitely did.

DB at the Shoreline Amphitheater

We then bundled into pizza-laden busses and headed off for the last overnight drive to Seattle. I'd never been there before - I'd never been to the Pacific Northwest at all - so I was psyched. Once again, the four lanes of I-5 were the chosen route. My sleep was improving, and I was already thinking about how much I'd miss this experience, and my bandmates. It's definitely a bubble you're living in, but it's not a bad one.

Seattle was a great way to end the tour. I thought it was a wonderful city. It helped that the weather held out for us - our entire time there was cloudless and dry. It's a seafood town, so a couple of culinary excursions were in the cards. The gig itself was at a site called the Gorge, a good 2-3 hour drive from Seattle. This was an intense place, out in the middle of the high desert. Huge. Gorgeous. Quiet. Other than the venue (and the services brought in for it) there wasn't a sign of life for miles.

It was finally time to say goodbye to our Area 2 comrades, and our last show was certainly bittersweet. We went on a bit later than usual - I guess there was no need for a curfew that far out in the sticks - so our light show was much more effective. The trip home was also a departure from the norm. We flew in a small, chartered jet - a Gulfstream G3, my first - which really moved. We were back in New York in three and a half hours.