... one of those rare nights when a young band that's accustomed to playing in dingy basements and empty bars garnering nothing more than a lukewarm response gets to feel like rockstars.
(sponsored by Old Style, Canadian Mist blended whiskey, Lucky Boys Confusion's deli tray, and Depends undergarments)
Cody had been talking this show down since we booked it.
"nobody really cares about the bands but at least it's guaranteed money and a hotel room."
when we first pulled up to the building, there were a few people wandering around but it pretty much seemed like his assumption would be right on.
We loaded in, did a soundcheck, and by 6:30 there was a line of kids stretching down the halls and around the building waiting to get in.
the final tally was just over 600.
They ran it with 2 stages: one on the south wall and one on the west wall. when one band would finish, the audience had to do little but a quarter turn in either direction to watch the next.
The Mystery Girls opened up the show, and the soundguys were really fucking up bad with them. At first it was all bass and vocals, then suddenly there were NO bass or vocals and some phantom feedback that went on over 2 or more songs. it eventually worked out, but the majority of their set was fucked because of the sound guys not being able to get their shit together.
We went on right after them, and i think we got a better mix than they did, but at one point i heard some random feedbacking too.
we played about a 7-song set. all the normal stuff. we were planning to test out some new material, but decided to put on our A-game given the massive attendance.
The night was a night of firsts:
... do you know how fucking awesome and energetic that is to be on stage rocking your ass off and see that many people dancing, smiling, totally dialed into what you're doing and clapping their hands over their head??
oh my GOD! DUDE!
i have this image burned into my memory of looking off stage with my cymbals in the foreground, seeing silouettes of hands up in the air through beads of sweat, and it makes me smile each time i think of it.
oh yeah, back to firsts:
as the show went on, i spent more and more time in the dressing room and watching the bands intermittently ... while drinking my contraband Old Style from underneath a scrap of paper. I then noticed that Bosio had a fucking line for their merch, but nobody was watching or pushing our stuff. I then preceeded to stand behind our merch and harass all of Bosio's customers into picking up one of our CD's as well. I moved at least 15 units this way, and bargained with everyone. This hands-on approach to sales also lead to many people asking for autographs and 14-year-old girls asking for my drumsticks. This was awesome. drunken merch-pushing is the best idea. ever.
I was also drunkenly giving my number out to tons of people trying to get a bunch of people to come to the after-party. this resulted in my phone ringing off the hook for 3 straight hours from random numbers. some of these people actually came out to the party though.
We had a sign by our CDs that said something to the order of "Tit Signings: $2" (i think this was Amber's doing), and as i tried to sell a CD to this girl, she saw the sign and asked if we were really charging for tit signings. i said, "well, i won't charge you if you want one" (smooth, right?? hahaha) and she instantly pulled down her shirt, saying "ok, you can sign the pierced one."
This blew minds (including my own) and earned a standing ovation from the Members of the Yellow Press and everyone else who witnessed it. She came to hang out later, and cody chased her away.
(I should also add that Bosio and Members of the Yellow Press were both AMAZING and I hope we can all play some shows together soon)
The after-party was amazing in a different way, and my memory starts to get foggy here. except for talking with the singer from Lucky Boys Confusion. He was really nice and asked what band i was in, and everything. (note: all the guys in Lucky Boys stayed in their dressing room throughout the whole show and played their songs acoustically. we could hear them through the wall in our dressing room and it was annoying.) He admitted that he didn't watch us, which was cool. but i sprung back and said, "no, it's cool. i didn't watch your band either. we all finished your deli tray and candy while you were playing." Despite me drunkenly going for a direct SNAP! i think he was just amused.
His name is Stibby. and later on when i called him Stubby, he politely corrected me. then i think i asked him if i could call him "Stubby." to which he said, "yeah. but that's not my name." he was getting really annoyed so i walked away.
also, Devin, the junior drummer for Bosio, was throwing mad game at the party, until i told all the girls he was macking on that he was 17. which he is. this pissed him off and he yelled at me for ruining his game. It was funny. Andy Silverman was also accosted for personally killing jesus christ.
So, Team Crossed Wires played a great show, showed Stevens Point what's what, partied down plenty, managed to make it through an 18-pack of Old Style (along with random stolen beers from other people) and most of the way through a liter of Canadian Mist. Made lots of new friends (and enemies), pleased the underagers, I signed a boob, we all signed lots of other random things, and moved a lot of our CDs.
EXACTLY how i want to spend every night with this band.
There's more, but the rest is seriously far too defaming or incriminating to ourselves and others to discuss here.
what goes on the road stays on the road.