Monthly Archives: April 2001

04.26.01 – Duke University

Run DMC hadn’t shown up yet when we got to Duke, which gave us the chance to sneak into their dressing room to see what they ask for in their dressing room contract rider. What we saw should never be repeated, but here goes: Sixteen cans of tuna fish and a big bag of sugar. Sorry no pictures.

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04.21.01 – Chicago, IL

I remember I met someone in Atlanta last week who told me she was a licensing agent, meaning she helped bands protect their images from people who would try to profit off of them in the form of bootleg t-shirts. Ominously, she warned me that one day we would need her services. I was skeptical, having only witnessed this in the parking lots of big arena shows. And then last night we found some woman selling illegal Guster shirts outside our show at the Riviera in Chicago:

I was pretty flattered by the whole thing, you know, in the same sense that it’d be sort of flattering to have a stalker or something. She was really nice too, and allowed me to take lots of pictures of her in action, without any clue that she was selling shirts with my likeness on the front, or that the police were on their way to LOCK HER UP AND PUT HER BEHIND BARS FOREVER. Well, not exactly, apparently she has some sort of peddling license that permits her to sell bootleg shirts of bands (like us) that are not part of some greater national injunction thing. Apparently also unaware of this, six members of ICP (our good friends, Insane Clown Posse) were arrested before their recent show at the Riviera when they tried to bully the t-shirt bootleggers off the premises. Anyway, I’m getting off the point. The point I wanted to make with this whole thing is that bootleg t-shirts are rare gems to be snatched up and sold immediately on ebay for huge profits because they combine unlikely aesthetic elements that even a t-shirt-idea-o-centric band like ourselves would never think to create…. for instance, the very psychedelic back side of this woman’s bootleg shirt:

…. which combines the album art themes of “Lost & Gone Forever” with those of Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon.” An intriguing and ambitious artistic statement no matter how you look at it. Clearly she did her homework, picking up on the dynamic ambience of the song “Rainy Day” before she designed the shirt.

When we were done harrassing this lady we played the biggest rock concert we’ve ever played outside of the Northeast, during which Kevin Simpson proposed to his girlfriend Becky while on stage with the band:

Good luck to the happy couple. Make babies. Name at least one of them Maggie.

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04.20.01 – dude, Pontiac MI

last night felt like an old irving plaza or avalon show. best energy of the tour. i am the one in the padded bra. pontiac. who knew?

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04.16.01 – Atlanta GA

My favorite show of the tour so far was at The Tabernacle on Saturday, a venue located right next to Centennial Olympic Park in Atlanta. Apparently still upset over the miscarriage of justice that took place when security guard Richard Jewell was wrongfully accused of bombing the park in 1996, Guster fans lined up for the show in the form of a human question mark, creatively protesting the character assassination that took place with that incident. We got yer back Richie! Road journal needs more jokes about international terrorism!

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04.13.01 – My Fingers Are Filled With Fluid

This is my left hand, which I use to hit drums. I reached “The Advil Point” on the tour this week, which is the point at which I can’t take the stage without ibuprofen kickin through my system for the rest of the way. It took me a while to position my hand in front of the camera so that the fingers looked as chubby and nasty as possible. Here is a haiku:

i have ten fingers
nine are pink one is purple
like adam’s ankle

GOD DAMN IT I WANT SYMPATHY. (god_damn_it_brian_needs_sympathy@hotmail.com)

People in the parking lot of our St Louis show last night were getting on me to write in this thing more frequently. I guess I’m just waiting for something journal-worthy to happen, like Sean wading into that nasty swamp after his errant frisbee throw.

Our digital camera is already pretty antiquated, it’s the size of a toaster oven and it holds floppy discs. I’ve had a bunch of photos stored on the disc in it this whole tour and I figured I’d post them here so I can go ahead and delete them and have room to take new ones. I realize that purchasing another floppy disc for seventy-five cents would also be a solution to this problem.

1. going over the game plan backstage at madison square garden (february 2001)
2. man welding the stage at brick’s in salt lake city before our gig
3. windshield (before)
4. windshield (after)
5. golden boy in reno nevada
6. jamie landry (monitor engineer/guitar tech) at the largest bowling alley in the world
7. rob calabrese (sound engineer) in the gypsy tea room mix position surrounded by alcohol
8. the last surviving ant in my ant farm
9. motel at night (reno)
10. star trek the next generation mouse for PC’s– i tried unsuccessfully to sell this on ebay. rare! a trekkies dream!

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04.01.01

It took us seventeen hours to drive from Los Angeles to Portland Oregon and so today was spent on the bus. Which is no way to experience April Fool’s Day. And no way for Guster Drum Tech & Stage Manager Sean Lynde to celebrate his 28th birthday. So when we stopped at the In-N-Out Burger in Redding California, Ryan got himself a Double-Double (animal styles) and a hat for Sean to wear on his special day:

Sean was faithful and didn’t remove the hat until we got to Portland and decided to go to a sorta nice restaurant. Sean would also like to point out that the starting wage at In-N-Out burger is $8.25 an hour, which is very competetive with Guster road crew wages when you calculate trips to Reno into the equation. We should also point out that while Sean removed his hat in the nice restaurant, all three band members were still wearing the same nasty t-shirts we had been wearing on stage at the House of Blues the night before.
To cap off Sean’s birthday we’re going to huddle in the back lounge, throw in our “Dancer In The Dark” DVD, and weep.

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