Two weeks have gone by since Radio City and we’re back on the road. I was happy to see that Sean hadn’t wiped off the conga since the NY show, and the blood from the open wound on my left hand had been marinating on the drum while it sat in a road case during our time off.
And because it was the bloodiest show in the history of Guster — my own personal Antietam, if you will, I think it merits a photo:
But here’s to new tours, closed cuts, and …. oh those TWINS! Michael is out driving Dave Matthews (i.e., one of his eight crew buses) for a month, so we have a new bus and a new driver. A new driver named “Sarge” who I expect will be featured very prominently on our website in no time. The new bus has flames on the door:
And apparently the new bus has a name. This is what Sarge said to me after I introduced myself: “The name of the bus is Combat Situation.”
I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances… I politely nodded, I gave the bus a once over, I furrowed my brow, and I said
“Hell yes it is.”
I don’t really have any pictures from Radio City, so this one will have to suffice:
They’re the “Hillsborough” Rockettes, and if there was really a God these women would have been on stage with us for a climactic “New York, New York” on the heels of Fa Fa. But when New York City has no electricity for the two days up until The Biggest Show Of Your Life, you count your blessings, stop whining (this should happen momentarily), and consider yourself lucky that the show went down at all. At this point, I need you to read this article.
And being that “New York, New York” is brilliant when accompanied by elderly women kicking in sequin, but predictable when played merely to kiss the ass of a NY crowd, we scrapped the number altogether and instead brought a volunteer on stage from the crowd (who happened to look a lot like Moria from the Guster Office) wearing a mirrorball suit and spinning around in circles at the key change moment of All The Way Up To Heaven.
In our minds, the moment was supposed to turn Radio City Music Hall into Radio City Disco Hall (!), but the suit didn’t really reflect light at all…. there may have been one or two little circles of light slowly working their way concentrically through the mezzanine while she spun, but eventually Pasty just threw the lights on the real disco balls on the ceiling and The Girl Who Looked A Lot Like Moria ran off stage early because she felt silly. All in all, it was the first “big” show where we didn’t feel all shell-shocked and tight on stage. That’s a good thing, because when we get down to St Petersburg, Florida in October we’re gonna need to bring our A game.