Guster Road Journal (What the &%#! is tumblr?)

Andrew "Scooter" Laubacher 2005-2011

Sun, 04 Sep 2011 18:52:00 -0400

He’s not dead. Just dead to us. After six and a half years as Guster’s drum tech, Scooter is moving on to dedicate more time to his many musical projects in San Francisco, where he lives. At 4350 Geary Blvd. Just a few blocks west of Burma Superstar Restaurant in Inner Richmond. When you get to 4350 Geary, hit the buzzer for the second floor, or if the first door is open, which it usually is, enter the vestibule and then push on the second door (knob doesn’t turn) which leads to the staircase.

I am distracting myself from the point. Scooter will be missed terribly over here. Nevermind the fact that he’s an incredible drummer who took a lot of our songs to new levels, musically — but as a person that’s been a core member of our road family since 2005, his unique energy will be hard to replace. Those of you who’ve seen him play live may have noticed that in addition to his youthful appearance, he has a perpetual glued-on smile — and while a lot of big smilers are really just putting a happy face over some seriously fucked-up inner darkness, Scooter’s spirit just shined purely when he was on stage with us. He’s one of a kind positive spirit. His parents did some things right. He can nap anywhere, anytime, like a kitty.

And so he gets his very own photo collage, just like Pasty did. Just like Sean did. Except now we don’t have a graphic person in the office to make it look all pro. Sorry Scooter, you deserve better than this linear wordpress crap.

Nothing Will Stop Us From Rocking Tonight In Indiana. Nothing.

Tue, 30 Aug 2011 01:33:00 -0400

This story begins with the usual whoa-is-me-the-hurricane-cancelled-my-flight drivel that you’ve already read about in everyone else’s road journals. But on Saturday when Delta announced they’d cancelled my Monday morning flight out of New York, there wasn’t much time to react. A hurricane was bearing down on us, and we had to be in Indiana by Monday night. We needed action. While I was safely tucked away in a cabin in upstate NY, Young Naive Luke was stuck in Brooklyn with no car, no flight options, and no bottled water or cans of chick peas left on the shelves at the plywooded-up Trader Joe’s. All the staples I needed for a week on tour were stuck in Brooklyn too (mostly finger tape, socks, underwear, and t-shirts)… they would have to be spared.

We spoke on the phone briefly. “The George Washington Bridge is closing in 45 minutes” said Luke, who was also going on and on about how he had some avocado and wheat bread in his kitchen, but it’s the weird big Florida-style avocados that don’t taste very good, and always get a little runny. “Get in a cab and make them drive you to New Jersey” I told him. “Now!” I added, like a dick.

He swears he was the last car allowed over the GW Bridge. He swears the cab driver had to swim across the Hudson to get home to his family. The cab was a hundred bucks. I drove two hours through heavy rain to rescue him at an A&P in Fort Lee NJ, where thank god they had Haas avocados. I brought him to the cabin upstate, where we ate chicken pot pie and drank wine. Life was good. Our friends had rented us a mid size Chevy Malibu one-way to Indianapolis, just before the last local car rental place closed. It was a 14 hour drive, but we could leave after the hurricane and still get to the show. We went to sleep. It was Saturday night. Then the hurricane hit.

We’d left NYC to escape the drama but ended up right in the belly of the beast. I felt the winds gusting through the windows at 5am, and heard trees falling in the distance. We woke up and surveyed the damage. Trees were down and the little bubbling creek had turned into a raging river. There was no electricity and there was water leaking from the ceiling. But the big blow was that Adam’s Monday flight outta Portland ME was cancelled too. We made him rent a car and drive through the hurricane to Albany, where we could pick him up.

Or so we thought. The creek broke its levee and there was a flash flood. The long dirt road to the property was like the Mississippi River.

That’s me standing in the “driveway” — why am I smiling? Fuck if I know. We were punchy. We were about to spend a calendar day in a Chevy Malibu. The river raged on furiously and washed out the road entirely. Luke and I had to drive the Malibu across peoples’ lawns to get out (sorry) (people of Indiana need us). Goodbye wife and child who have no electricity or path to civilization.

Getting to Adam was a massive problem. Just getting to Route 87 was almost impossible. Roads we needed to not-be-flooded were flooded. I knew side routes, but there were trees down across all of them. There was one tree leaning against a power line that I thought we could squeak under. I also thought it was okay to drive a car over a live downed power line. Young Naive Luke disagreed and made me turn around. It took about 9 different tries through back roads to get out to Woodstock. By the time we got to Woodstock….

87 was closed. We had to take half-flooded back roads all the way to Albany. It took us about 5 hours to get to Albany instead of the usual hour and a half, and Albany wasn’t even on the way to Indiana. We picked up Adam and briefly thought about testing our luck with a Monday flight to Indianapolis, but carried on with the road trip instead. 14 more hours in a Chevy Malibu didn’t seem nearly as bad as getting fucked over by an airline at the last minute and missing our show. We’d come this far.

6 more hours in the car. At some point I got pulled over, for the second time in two days:

I always get pulled over in upstate NY. The rental car was not registered to anyone who was actually in the car. The cop didn’t know who “Guster” was, but liked the sob story about Hurricane Irene and let us continue on. With a ticket.

At 9pm we were tired and hungry and decided to get Indian food and crash at a Quality Inn in Erie PA. We loaded the bags into the hotel, and just as I was about to have my first bite of chicken saag (mild) I decided to check the mattress, because the hotel was a little dodgy.

Bedbugs.

Back in the car, to the Quality Inn (yes, same chain, it makes no sense) on the other side of town. It’s actually a decent hotel and the guy behind the desk told us that this Quality Inn is completely separate from the other one, which makes you wonder about franchises, and principles, and what bedbugs feel like when they bite you in your sleep. They should call their hotel chain Varying Quality Inn.

Monday morning. Continental breakfast. How is it possible for eggs to taste this bad. I made us stop at a Walmart in Ohio so I could have clothes to wear this week. Immediately I’m attracted to the five dollar pile of solid color Faded Glory t-shirts, but they are all in sizes 3XL and 4XL. That’s who shops for clothes at the Walmart in Cleveland. And at the Walmart everywhere else. I was forced to buy the one medium sized t-shirt I could find, and it says Chillaxin’ on it.

Right now we’re still in the car but it looks like we’ll make it to the show with two hours to spare. So when you see me out there tonight in my crisp blue Chillaxin’ shirt, while my wife and child wither away on an Irene-induced island, know that it’s because we really really wanted to make this show happen, Indiana.

We would like to know what love is...

Thu, 18 Aug 2011 16:02:42 -0400

LEFT TO RIGHT: Ryan Miller of Guster, Andrew McMahon of Jack’s Mannequin, Adam Gardner of Guster, Will Forte stripping off the fourth and final of the four Guster t-shirts he was wearing while belting out Foreigner’s “I Wanna Know What Love Is” in Boston the other night, even though we made the mistake of transposing the song up a half-step to the key of E, where no human can actually sing it… Luke Reynolds of Guster, Brian Rosenworcel of Guster.

Here is me trying to sing it in the regular key three years ago.

And here is our friend Will wondering how long it takes for sharpie to wash off:

Evolution of the Disco Ball Helmet

Mon, 15 Aug 2011 00:54:00 -0400

The other day in Philadelphia, this was the scene onstage during “This Is How It Feels To Have A Broken Heart”:

It’d be a fair question to ask how it came to this. I mean, yeah it’s our disco song, but Ryan looks less like the human mirror ball we intended and more like a transvestite robot that got the shit kicked out of it.

Let’s go on a brief photographic tour through Guster’s onstage prop history, shall we? It probably all started at Tipitina’s Uptown in New Orleans in 1998, when Ryan got a hold of a fat suit and discovered that while it looked uncomfortable, it actually felt “right” against his skin:

That same year at the Webster Theater in Hartford CT we created a giant styrofoam (sorry Adam) cake in honor of a fan’s birthday. I was the special surprise inside. I was wearing a fireman’s hat. You know, like how strippers sometimes wear those hats to pretend they are just naked firemen.

Then, in 1999, while writing Lost & Gone Forever with his shirt off, out of nowhere came a golden retriever. It had a lampshade on its head and it seemed to be trying to tell us something.

And we responded. By invading John Mayer’s stage during “Your Body Is A Wonderland” on the last night of our tour, wearing diapers around our waists and Kentucky Fried Chicken buckets on our heads.

We learned that, like the gypsy golden retriever, you don’t necessarily need to see clearly to have a good time, and to piss off a pop star (sorry John) (end of tour prank). I realize there’s a massive topless theme going on in this road journal, but I swear that wasn’t the point. Dismissed as coincidence.

Fast forward to late 2002, and descending from the rafters at the Electric Factory in Philly is a giant paper mache menorah:

It was constructed by Moria-from-our-office’s mother, who was a local art teacher in suburban Philadelphia. You will want to remember Moria-from-our-office’s mother’s name, because she’s going to return and play an important role later on in this road journal. Swoop, the Philadelphia Eagles’ mascot, “lights” the menorah with a toilet plunger:

Swoop actually made about five Philadelphia appearances with the band before making a baby and settling down on the west coast, passing the mascot reins to a guy who likes listening to Godsmack and thinks Guster’s a little gay.

High on our own paper mache prowess, we commission that giant matzoh-filled pinatas of Brian, Ryan, and Adam be created and lowered from the ceiling at Hawaiian themed shows that year in Providence, Philly, and DC… yes, I know my chronology is off. Suck it.

We narrowly avoid a tragedy at the 930 Club in DC when Ryan’s paper mache head fell from the ceiling mid-set, luckily hitting no one, and luckily spewing delicious matzoh all over the front rows.

Here is a picture of my daughter dressed as a bumblebee:

I am clearly losing focus at this point, and I need to bring it all home. We’ve wanted Ryan to become a disco ball during the instrumental break down of “Broken Heart” for a while, but until recently all we had was a glittery schmata that Ryan wore like a scarf. Confusing, underwhelming, but good enough as a stand-in for what we were going to one day do. One day.

That day came a couple weeks ago in rehearsals in Taunton MA. After Adam sliced an actual disco ball in half, only to realize it weighed twenty pounds, was impossible to fit on a human head, and made Ryan’s neck bleed… we began construction of a styrofoam (sorry Adam) disco ball helmet:

Megan, our awesome and helpful merch lady, glued bits of mirror to it, and Moria’s mom’s art class did the rest, with the umm, oblong body suit…

And voila… instant Spinal Tap. Thanks for listening.

RT@

Thu, 11 Aug 2011 17:40:00 -0400

How did Ryan Miller miss this Re-Tweet? How did I forget to mention, in my Week Recap, that he walked on stage with some guy’s puppy in his arms in Newport?

Here’s the blog where I stole the picture from. Thank you, nice lady, for posting this important moment in Guster history on the twitter-net. The puppy was returned to its owner after being exploited and traumatized during our entrance.

Week in Review

Mon, 08 Aug 2011 09:55:00 -0400

Cape Cod Melody Tent 8/2:

As promised / threatened … in my first “revolving” concert since I saw Air Supply on a rotating stage in Connecticut when I was ten, the band let me sing “All Out of Love” for the encore in Hyannis. Will Forte joined us on beautiful, sincere vocals. No lettuce was harmed during the performance of this song.

Danbury CT 8/3:

It was raining, and we were playing in a gazebo suspended on a pond. Most of the people on the lawn had found their way down to the white plastic seats closer to the stage when Ryan Miller took off his socks, removed his watch, unhinged his belt, took off his pants, and asked “how deep is this?” before wading into the waist-high moat in front of the stage, where he sang Stand By Me, and maybe some other songs. After the show he skipped the “Meet n Greet” and checked himself for leeches in the shower. There’s a video, and one commenter claims to have seen his “kern”…

Newport RI 8/4:

Some nice lady invited us to sail on a yacht that afternoon and so we did. After the show we went to “Reggae Night” in the basement bar beneath our hotel. The keyboard player for the reggae band was absolutely out of his mind and surely believed he was part dragon. Newport is a place where you eat ice cream and look at fancy houses.

Portland 8/5:

Another fun show at the State Theater, which is where we filmed our live DVD many years ago. There were plenty of high points, including Ryan singing “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac, off the cuff, and me singing “Under the Bridge” (that one was actually on the set list), but for us the real highlight was the first Guster Family Summit since the three girls were babies. Take a look at our collective spawn now!

{clockwise from top, center — Sloan Gardner, Jolene Rosenworcel, Julian Gardner, Dash Miller, Leo Miller}

More sweet than bitter

Mon, 13 Jun 2011 10:59:00 -0400

I know there are a lot of people out there with not nice things to say about the airport in Denver… that there are “murals” about the “extinction of races”, that the “runways” are shaped like “swastikas”, that there’s a “bunker” beneath the airport the size of China that will house our leaders when the “apocalypse” comes, that the “zombie death horse with the crazy red eyes represents the New World Order but you must not criticize this because the artist that created him died in the process by impaling himself on his own horse“… (hey I just work here) (if there was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich-works store at the Denver Airport, I’d gladly write about that instead) (but there isn’t)…

…but can we put all that aside for a moment and agree the best thing about the Denver Airport is the little boogie woogie piano sound that the tram makes when it departs for the gate?

Whenever it happens I look around at the other people on the train with me to see if anyone else is getting there rocks off from it. Nope.

Speaking of rocks, hey, we played at Red Rocks, finally. Red Rocks is an outdoor amphitheater built in 1941 in the cove created by giant natural red boulders. It’s an extraordinary place to have a concert, and the people who attend shows there revere the venue — it feels like you’re in the desert of Arizona or Utah, when you’re actually just miles from Denver, with a view of the city skyline from up atop the rock bleachers.

Before the show I was standing next to a couple of security guards in yellow t-shirts, and one of them listened in to his walkie talkie and then said “I gotta go, there’s a rattlesnake on the south ramp” — which I took to be code for something, like “someone spilled a Sprite on the south ramp, we need a mop, right away” etc etc… and then I asked the other security guard what it meant. Real rattlesnake on the ramp where people are walking into the concert. Happens all the time.

“How do you deal with a rattlesnake?” I asked.

“Catch him with a stick. Put him in a bag.”

I wish I could impart to you just how bored this guy seemed with my question.

Here’s a photo from backstage at Red Rocks.

One day, if my band headlines Red Rocks, you should come. For now, we’re grateful that Big Head Todd & the Monsers gave us a chance to play there as the support act. It’s kind of been a dream of ours to headline there, but opening up a show was sweet too. More sweet than bitter.

Fenway

Wed, 11 May 2011 15:00:59 -0400

We got a sweet last minute hook-up and were able to check out the Red Sox game Saturday afternoon at Fenway before our Boston show. Kind of perfect because the House of Blues is now a giant club on Lansdowne Street behind the Green Monster, and not a cute little music shack in Harvard Square. You could hit the House of Blues with a towering home run, if you were Manny Ramirez, before your third violation for using a substance that was banned by major league baseball.

Anyway, we got to the game in the top of the third inning, just as the LL Bean tarp was being spread across the infield, kicking off a two hour rain delay. We almost caught the whole thing (the whole rain delay) but after an hour and a half we had to go to soundcheck. All was not lost! Fenway franks really live up to the hype… and here’s a bad iPhone photo of the rarely executed “hot dog cheers” where condiments, nitrites, magic, and spit fuse together for a cosmic moment of ballpark hot dog superiority…

(Can you see I am serious! This is no place for loafers)

That’s our good friend Samantha being cute in the middle, Ryan Miller looking ornery on the right, and that’s Luke Reynolds doing his best impression of the guy on the cover of “The Bends” on the left.

We should eat Fenway Franks before every show because Boston was the best show of the tour. And for more strange crossover between Guster and Fenway Park, please watch this video:

Whyyyyyy!

Sun, 03 Apr 2011 13:09:02 -0400

Our bus on this tour has a shower in it. This is not a good thing. No one is going to shower on the bus. It uses up most of your water tank, for one, and then you’re all naked and exposed in a claustrophobic closet around your crew, which now includes two ladies (“Megan” who sells our merchandise and “Fallon” who is searching for Brita Filterers).

Every inch of space is precious when you are traveling with a full bus and so we use the shower to store a few bags. Ryan’s bags. Adam’s bags. Do you see where this is going already? Because it went there.

Ryan was pulling his bag out of the shower and the strap got caught on the water valve and turned the shower on. Water pouring down on their stuff, including Adam’s computer bag. Ryan panicked and didn’t think logically. He couldn’t figure out how to turn the valve off and so he cupped his hands around the shower head, making the water spray and drip and reach the bags through less direct avenues.

Then he started yelling “Nooo!” and eventually “Whyyyyy!” but never thought to just pull the bags out of the shower. Scooter had to come do that. At some point they got the water shut off. Adam’s computer still works. And here is another classic Scooter photo from backstage in Cleveland:

The penis of Tyler

Mon, 21 Feb 2011 23:05:00 -0500

I have been off of the BNL cruise ship for a week now, but my legs are still wobbly and certain sounds and images won’t go away:

The casino dealer, offering up “insurance” before testing the ace of spades in the little blackjack-tester. “Sorry,” says the casino dealer.

The breakfast buffet, at first a cornucopia of colorful fruits, tasty sausages, and omelette-chefs in klan hats. Yes I’ll take a fresh plate for my next trip. But by the end merely a monotonous line-up of diarrhea suspects — was it you CRACKLE? et tu, SNAP? — I suppose the Rice Krispies are blameless but the scrambled eggs get my squinty eye.

The voice of Ed, several times a day over the in-cabin PA system, louder than a truck dropping a piano in a PT Andersen film, reminding me of all the recreational opportunities on the vessel. Reminding me that I shouldn’t be napping. Reminding my two year old that she shouldn’t be napping either. Lazy! If only the words that he were speaking were less funny, I could be mad at him.

The penis of Tyler, and this is something that we all share, Ships & Dip 4-ers. Because while technology and D.F. Yonkman make it possible for anyone to experience the cruise ship from the rhea-free comfort of our homes, the actual, uncensored, bouncing-fruit-and-nuts of a 43 year old man is something we, and only we, have to celebrate. L’chaim!

Tyler Streaks Guster from Dead Elm on Vimeo.

And while we’re on the subject, please revisit this modern day Yonkman classic from 3 years ago on a Thundergod-free boat:

Jojo’s Birth - Live Via Satellite | SD3 from Dead Elm on Vimeo.

You Can Just Bring Your Toddler to the Guster Show

Sat, 29 Jan 2011 18:48:52 -0500

The last two nights have been Assigned Seat shows, which are different animals than General Admission shows — one the one hand, seated theaters sound pretty good — often they’re designed with acoustics in mind — and have fancy ceilings and little muppet show balconies for vibe. On the other hand, at general admission shows the people who are most excited to be at the concert work their way to the front, giving you lots of energy to feed off of during your performance.

For a while, at Assigned Seat shows, the front rows were held for guest list. Which meant that Adam’s Uncle Harris would be at the Beacon Theater in New York City, sitting down in the second row and coughing into a handkerchief. This became a major vibe-killer and we dealt with it by moving the guest list seats back into the middle of the crowd. But we still find at some theater shows that the first few rows will sit down while the rest of the crowd stands up. It’s awkward. It affects Ryan’s game.

The other night in Des Moines it was hard not to notice the 19-month old in the first row. That’s something you don’t usually see, especially at a show that starts at 10:15pm and ends at midnight. I expected to him to be passed out in an ergo a few songs in, or whisked away during a Red Oyster Cult Meltdown mid-show. No. Apparently a big fan, little “Powell” made it up past his bedtime and lasted the whole show, even making it through the aftershow meet and greet without shedding a tear.

And, as he threatened to do early in the set, Ryan brought Powell on stage for the last song, “Hang On” — kids go through various phases of stranger anxiety in their first couple of years, but at no point in her life would my daughter have been okay in the arms of a random singer on stage. She’d have freaked out, kicked her way back into the crowd, and then figured out how to google “Child Protective Services” to call them and find herself a more secure domestic situation.

Little Powell was totally chill. Here’s pictures:

Melrose & Vine

Thu, 13 Jan 2011 01:20:22 -0500

So we’ve been out in LA for a few days now and this time we tried something different with our accommodations. Rather than three nights of expensive hotel rooms that have fake-log fireplaces with a switch-on gas flame, we tried a more economical VRBO (Vacation Rental By Owner) that have fake-log fireplaces with a switch-on gas flame.

The place looked good from the Craig’s List photos. Four bedrooms for four band members. Stainless steel kitchen appliances and a fancy piano. Bearskin rugs in the bathrooms. The right price. Why not.

But there were strange things going on in this VRBO when we showed up. To quote one of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s many smash hits: “ooh ooh that smell, can you smell that smell?” — the lingering, constant aroma of old people. Dead people? Perhaps. I can smell dead people.

Who’ve been peed on by cats.

After one night at our place Adam’s backpack was full of ants, and he found some on his jacket and in his arm hairs. This is likely because Adam had a muffin or a banana peel rotting in the bottom of his bag, but let’s just get into the spirit of this road journal and blame it on the ant-ridden VRBO. And the televisions. So many televisions. Sometimes two to a room, old, new, all suspended from the ceiling in awkward crates, custom created for this house before flat screens were invented.

The TV in my room was white, and the walls and ceilings were white and this morning I discovered a little remote attached to my awkwardly sloped bed that helped explain everything. I’d been sleeping in a Craftmatic Adjustable Bed…. I’m not in a vacation rental, I’m in a hospital.

Bonus Pet Peeve: Airport toilets where instead of a germ-ridden flush handle, there’s a motion sensor that flushes the toilet when you stand up. And when you lean to the side to reach for the toilet paper. And when you grab your cell phone out of your pocket to check your email while you’re crapping. It’s kind of a cool little spritz down there mid-game that’s refreshing if you don’t think about what you’re getting spritzed with. I think I’d rather just flush the handle with my sneaker like I used to.

Jason is sad

Sat, 18 Dec 2010 17:18:00 -0500

VERY SAD JASON

Stuck with a two hour delay at the Detroit Airport today, Jason, our tour manager, made a costly decision regarding his lunch.

He checked out the “PB & J” shop in our terminal and balked at the $4.50 price tag.

“Four fifty for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, no thanks” was his official statement. Jason is a careful and frugal person when it comes to meals on the road — yesterday he passed up a chance to eat chicken fried steak at the legendary Chuck House in Oklahoma City with the members of Hanson because there was free bbq backstage at the venue we were playing. I did the same because I’m cheap too. The bbq was respectable and free but I kind of wish I’d gone to Chuck House.

Anyway, Jason opted for a Quizno’s Burnt Sandwich (sorry, I mean toasted sub) at the airport instead. He probably spent 7 or 8 dollars on it, and lost critical volume on the edges where the bread was charred to the point that it flaked off with a flick of the finger. Meanwhile, my brain was crunching the numbers on the peanut butter decision. Sure, it’s peasant-food, but did he even see how big the sandwich was when he made his decision? Did he look at the options? Cashew-butter, fluff, bacon (!?)… on the bread of your choice? This little PB&J joint was sounding less like a gimmick and more like a sensible and delicious way to fill your belly for five bucks at the airport.

Luke and I wasted little time. I gave him two bucks and he returned minutes later with a heaping sandwich for us to split — crunchy peanut butter and blackberry jam with banana slices on 8-grain bread. It was huge. It was tasty as hell. I was full after half a sandwich. Jason watched, awash in a world of regret.

So next time Ryan does a “Layover Lunch” on the Twitter (no takers yesterday at O’Hare) (note to self: band needs to be more popular in order to truly break tweeting ground), expect peanut butter. Our treat.

Ganging up on the sons...

Tue, 30 Nov 2010 11:44:06 -0500

Adam and Lauren made a boy and he’s cute!

Welcome Julian Sullivan Gardner, who arrived Nov 4th. Congratulations!

And the winner is...

Thu, 28 Oct 2010 19:39:00 -0400

Seems fitting to announce this one after a great homecoming-show-of-sorts at the State Theater in Portland ME. Whereas most of Easy Wonderful is about the usual Guster lyrical topics (catastrophes, depression, drowning, loneliness, troubled relationships, armageddon, general insecurity, biblical floods), the one song we asked you to submit videos for, “Bad Bad World,” is actually hopeful and optimistic. I don’t know what got into us (Ryan) on that one.

And that’s why we chose Nora McCormack video as the winner…

Her simple idea was moving and inspiring and brought the best out of the lyric. We’re happy to put her work in there among our other videos, like the one where the paper mache pig with the ear that looks like it was burned off floats away with balloons, and the one where we are cartoon mimes.

I would be a horrible person if I didn’t mention that this was a difficult decision, and the creativity in all your submissions was humbling. Here are a few honorable mentions, with a special shout-out to the Candyman Crew, because we want your smiling, mustached protagonist on stage with us as soon as possible…

HONORABLE MENTION:

Ithaca

Tue, 26 Oct 2010 21:02:16 -0400

Ithaca NY — Ryan was under the weather and didn’t have much of a voice at this show, which usually isn’t a huge problem because we can lean on our other singer to step up whenever this happens. Except that Adam had a cold and a froggy voice too.

So we went out there and just tried our best. We didn’t let the drummer sing, but we did resort to other tactics (Ryan “crowd-surfed” while singing a Neil Diamond song for the first time in like, five years) to make sure the crowd was entertained. We are entertainers. Here we are now.

And I felt like it was a great show. It was one of the tightest Do You Love Me’s we’ve ever played, except for the fact that our vocalists sounded mid-puberty on every chorus.

Before the show I wrote “Scooter is GORGES” on the keyboard-chalkboard, as a nod to the omnipotent green t-shirt that’s one of the most famous exports of the town we were playing in. I thought I did a good job. And Adam thought he did a great job adding Scooter and a can of Sunkist into the mix.

Later we realized that while we were going for something like the famous smiling Scooter in this photo….

… we came closer to recreating Little Black Sambo the famous smiling racist stereotype in this picture. Apologies. We are slowly improving as chalk artists.

D.C.

Sun, 24 Oct 2010 17:13:16 -0400

We’d played the DAR Constitution Hall once before, opening for Mayer in 2002. I remembered it was carpeted, seated, and generally felt like you were playing to Congress. I remembered it was located amongst the buildings you see on the back of your paper money.

So last night I was impressed that our show felt great. Much less sterile than the one with Mayer. It was like a rock show in a mini C-SPAN arena. I liked it. We sort of disappeared into the middle of the crowd for a rough, barely audible “Jesus on the Radio” at the end of the night. I played my shaker while standing on a seat though. Thanks to whoever put this photo up on my Facebook page. I’m still going to remove your tag though.

Wood Men

Wed, 13 Oct 2010 18:22:35 -0400

Omaha.

Because the venue we played was right next to Greenstreet Cycles, we got our broken bicycles fixed in exchange for guest list spots, and I got to ride my bike to McFoster’s Cafe, where I ate an eggplant sandwich and didn’t even mind the soy cheese, and along the way I noticed the Omaha skyline, which doesn’t leave much of an impression, except for the one WOODMEN building that I put on the new keyboard-chalkboard on the stage, minutes before our set started.

I didn’t really leave enough room for the “N”…

TOP 5 THINGS I SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN ABOUT IN THE ROAD JOURNAL OVER THE LAST FEW WEEKS

Sat, 09 Oct 2010 13:28:00 -0400

It’s Saturday October 9th. I’m stealing internet from the lobby of the Moonrise Hotel in St Louis, and I actually have a window of time to compose a road journal for the first time in a while. The powers that be have had us on a busy promotional frenzy — lots of airports, lots of stripped-down-acoustic-performances-of-do-you-love-me, and one Whole Foods Wine Tasting.

There are so many things that ought to have been documented in a road journal but weren’t. I will do my best to remember.

TOP 5 THINGS THAT I SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN ABOUT IN THE ROAD JOURNAL OVER THE LAST FEW WEEKS

1. Luke Shows Up For Work Covered in Poison Sumac

Or, as we like to call it, Toxicodendron vernix. Poor Luke, all he wanted to do was take a break from learning 55 Guster songs and go for a walk in the VT woods. Instead, he ends up showing up for rehearsals drenched in Poison Sumac, all the way down to his amaze-balls. Apparently there’s very little you can do to minimize the itch except wait. Twelve days. The rash is gone now and Luke absolutely tore it up on Captain last night. Movin’ on…

2. Ram Dass Plays the Glockenspiel

We were in Berkeley CA standing outside Alice Waters’ restaurant Chez Panisse in late September. Our record label was paying. Sitting on the grassy median on Shattuck Ave was a barefoot, bearded, Berkeley-looking guy on a blanket. He approaches us because he recognizes us as Guster. He says his name is Ram Dass Khalsa. Naturally, we ask him if he plays keyboards. He says yes. Next thing we know he’s on stage rocking the glockenspiel like a gangster.

That’s Ram Dass on the far right in the pic below.

We had a great hang with Ram Dass and his friends, and it turns out that he tours with the same New Age group that Luke recorded guitars for. I think that’s how it went. Either way, they were instantly spiritually bonded from that experience. As were we from ours. After the show we went over to some massive food court for Afghan food, and I blew the biggest bubble of my life from one gumball. Don’t worry, it’s forthcoming as a special vanity merchandise item with the word ROSENWORCEL on it:

3. Watch Your Back Lil Dwayne Here Comes Guster

Amazingly, our album came out on Tuesday and lived for a brief moment at #2 on the overall iTunes sales charts. Ryan caught a screen grab:

We’ve since fallen out of the top ten, but it was nice to be in there amongst the Lil Wayne’s, Toby Keith’s, and Mr A to Z’s of the world for a moment. Thanks for the thrill, legal digital downloaders .

4. The River 15th Anniversary Party in Boston

Chad Carlberg, who directed the video for “Do You Love Me,” blew in like a tornado and dressed up the stage for this show with art from our video. And captured his daughter, Maggie Blue, in a magic pre-show photo:

You can see more cute footage of Maggie at the end of Chad’s Treatment Proposal for the video, which is an awesome explanation of how the video went down (or, was supposed to go down).

And you can see a damn cute photo of my daughter Jolene in her Halloween bumblebee suit (a hand me down from Maggie Blue) here:

5. Security and Sportsmanship

Thursday night we played an event for WXRT in Chicago — it was at the Cubby Bear, right across from Wrigley Field, a place where we used to open up for Lynyrd Skynyrd cover bands when we first started touring (1995). The format for the show was a slightly awkward interview-twice-on-stage-mid-show thing, which is how they do it for some CBS show that the performance is taped for. I think.

Anyway, while dealing with some guitar issue, we launched into a spew song called “Security and Sportsmanship” that we pray sees the light of day, awkward as it might be for a high profile radio show to air a sloppy made-up-on-the-spot song for three minutes. Okay, seven minutes.

After the show, I watched Rodd Tuffcurls & The Bench Press slay the crowd for three sets of covers, including a few that Gus(ter) used to play back when we were, umm, covering Tiffany and Madonna.

If the Cubby Bear didn’t make their bands play for four hours a night, we could have gone over to Ian’s for mac & cheese pizza with those guys.

6. Midnight Visit to City Museum in St Louis

Oh wait, that’s tonight…

All Things Must Pass

Thu, 23 Sep 2010 09:28:47 -0400

Some parting words from Joe Pisapia…

In the age of Twitters and Facebooks I find myself conflicted, constrained and in a little pain (while typing on my I phone,) as I try to offer a condensed version of what is to be my final guest Road Journal. Don’t worry, you’ll still see me in D.F Yonkman videos in the studio with the guys, but I will miss you in person, on the road. Truthfully I am amazed, almost surprised, when I consider the gravity of looking back on seven and a half years (!) of playing shows with Guster. To me it feels more like five months or a year… but I guess time flies when you’re having fun.

So with that being said here is my 128 character (or less,) farewell to the road days:

2 all my new BFF’s —10Q and C ya L8tr LOL ;)

*For those of you who are “not into the whole brevity thing” -read on.

Sincerely, I am filled with gratitude to my brethren in Guster and to all of the fans, that have allowed me to experience this wonderful chapter in my life. There are far too many memories to mention here but I will attempt to list some of my favorite moments.

-Going to the City Museum in St Louis with the guys after a show.
-Floating down the Boise River with some people we just met, before a show.
-Hiking down to Crater Lake.
-Performing with The Boston Pops at Symphony Hall.
-Being on tour with the Zamboni’s. (Dave Zamboni — top 3.)
-Hiking to natural hot springs outside of Santa Fe NM.
-Performing the Violent Femmes first record at Arlene’s in NY for MTV2.
-Spending a day at Badlands Nat’l Park.
-Taking the stage via Segways in Boston.
-Every Sixthman cruise that we did, especially with BNL, some of the nicest and funniest guys on the planet.

And here are some particular things in general that I will miss:
-The fans, especially the ones I got to know and the ones that made delicious cookies etc.
-Spending the late afternoons (between soundcheck and showtime,) playing extreme bocce with the guys.
-Getting to visit and explore towns that aren’t usual tourist destinations I.E., anywhere Iowa, Mankato MN, Billings MT, Vermillion SD etc.
-The extended family on the road: Gord, Seth, Josh, Anderson, Andrew, Allyson, Amy, Gerald, Roger, etc.
-Late night poker games on a cardboard box in the bus.
-Playing bass. Especially on songs like Ruby Falls, C’mon, Hang On, and This Could All Be Yours.
-Every seemingly unexciting family dinner at Applebees or Outback when we were stuck out in strip mall hell. (Funny how the most mundane moments have such particular reverie.)
-Mostly I will miss all the laughter that we would do on a daily/ hourly / moment-by-moment basis.

What I won’t miss:
-Porta potties
-Wet turkey sandwiches with yellow mustard.
-Having the keyboards act weird at a show.
-Attempting to play any sport, other than bocce, with the other Gusters. (They’re all practically semi-pro (WTF?!))

I couldn’t be more proud of “Easy Wonderful.” Brian, Adam, Ryan and I poured our hearts and souls into it, and I think it sounds that way. Our creative relationship remains intact, and I look forward to having everyone back at Middletree for what will be the record after EW.

So be nice to Luke. He is your new friend. His musicianship is only tantamount to his character, which is exemplary.

And don’t be a stranger. Be friends with my music page on facebook. Or just put my name in the google machine from time to time. I promise that I will finish a follow up to Daydreams in the near future.

Love to all of you!
TTYL.
Joe