Monthly Archives: March 2006

03.27.06 – San Francisco, CA

People on the west coast have been coming to see our band this week. One of them, Kristy at the University of Southern California, wrote us an email…

hey guys we just saw your show at the roxy… i was just wondering if you could post a picture or five of your friend scooter. i am asking because my friend and i think he’s adorable…well, hot. thanks so much and hope you guys come back soon. we’re also really looking forward to your new album!

These days about half of the mail we get through our website is Scooter-themed, and while many involve requests for pictures of the young drum-tech/supermodel, never before have we received such a brazen request for an entire photo shoot. But because today’s Scooter’s 22nd birthday, and because I couldn’t get my camera to take a normal picture of him until I figured out that I needed to turn on the flash, your request will be granted this once, Kristy.


Scooter, at 22, trying to act as un-blurry as possible

At the Fillmore last night the remote pack that powers my in-ear monitor mix fell off and started dangling from my belt during “Center of Attention”… I guess the metal piece that holds it in place popped out and the whole pack was in danger of falling to the ground and leaving me stranded on stage with the reflection of the guitars off the back wall as my only rhythmic guide… I gave Scooter the look.

Scooter has come to know “the look” these days, it means “things are falling apart — get out here” …and it happens about once a show. In LA the other night he got the look when the basket that holds the hand snare loosened and almost tipped. But last night in San Francisco he was on stage to fix a problem he’d never encountered before — trying to get my pack to stay attached to my belt while I played a kick drum standing up. After about ten seconds of realizing the metal attacher-thing was hopelessly mangled, Scooter resigned himself to the fact that his best option was to kneel behind me holding the pack in place — pretty much sitting there for two minutes with his hand on my ass.

I wasn’t sure if he’d fixed it and was just hanging out behind me, or if he was actively holding the pack against my butt during the back half of Center of Attention, but the answer was pretty clear when I looked up and saw the front rows laughing at us. We got through the song and replaced the pack before the next one started. It was a big moment for me and Scooter too. Not in a Brokeback kind of way, but in a “do whatever it takes to fix the problem” kind of way. Happy birthday Scooter. You did a great job touching my ass for half a song last night.


Scooter: Photos 2-5, the blurry years

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03.23.06 – San Diego, CA

First show of the tour. Whenever we take a few months off I get a strange feeling taking the stage again. I look out at the crowd and wonder who are you people? what in god’s name are you all doing here!? do you have a fucking *staring* problem!?

It’s a genuine feeling that usually goes away after a song or two, but last night I didn’t get over it until like 2/3 of the way through the set. I think there are members of our band who woke up this morning still mumbling who the hell ARE you!? over and over again. In any event, the only place we’ve ever played in San Diego until last night was a beach bar named “Cane’s” in Mission Beach. I have awful memories of that place… the drum machine getting unplugged halfway through “All the Way Up to Heaven”… having to stop the song in the middle of it and apologize… I remember throwing something.

And I remember our old sound guy Gordon getting in the face of a parking lot cop who made us move our bus a mile from the venue. Gordon was getting more and more belligerent (saying “ooh big man, big man, are ya!?” in a heavy Canadian accent) and from the window of the bus we noticed he was topless, wearing only flip-flops and bleached cut-off denim shorts that barely made it past his tighty whities. It was a COPS episode waiting to happen and we all felt it…. fortunately the cameras never showed up and now there’s a nice House of Blues in downtown San Diego where we played our first proper San Diego show last night.

And apparently, in San Diego, it’s only a ten minute drive to the Mexico border where Tijuana awaits with open arms. Ryan became obsessed with this thought and was hell-bent on going to Mexico for dinner after soundcheck. Adam was sold too. Joe had other things to do and I was nervous that they would get stuck at the border and wouldn’t be back in time for the show. I often feel like Kyle’s little asthmatic cousin in this band. You know, this guy:

They left at about 5:30 and needed to be back by 9:30 for the show. They got good advice from locals: Park the car in the USA and walk across the border, bring passports, be wary of traffic coming back to town, etc…

At 6:15 they walked back into the dressing room, a little disheveled, while the rest of us were gorging ourselves with House of Blues brisket. “How was Mexico” we all wanted to know.

Apparently they’d been walking around looking for the rental van for almost an hour, and weren’t able to find it, so they gave up and came back to eat brisket. And that’s our Tijuana story. No tequila binges, muggings, hookers fighting roosters in small cages, etc… just not finding the rental car and giving up.

We’re not so rock ‘n roll. Actually, Joe’s kind of rock ‘n roll. He bought a hat in San Diego and was publicly praised by Seth, our tour manager, for stepping up the style on this tour. Joe was hyper-aware of the fact that I was digging for my digital camera to expose the situation in the road journal, and removed his hat before I could get a shot of it. Joe’s still bitter about the Beret Incident of 2003, where I put up a poll on the website for you all to vote on whether or not he was pulling off his new beret.

(above, top: Seth approves of Joe’s style)
(above, bottom: The Beret Incident of 2003)

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