Migratory
Anyway, the new home is http://raggedend.wordpress.com/
Dig it.
Living the dream...
After the Dandy's tour wrapped up in Portland, I stayed behind for an extra week of running around the NW with Malia. We had gone to see My Bloody Valentine in LA which was pretty astounding in it's sheer volume (especially during the 17 minute noise jam) and on the first day after tour we saw Sigur Ros from the front row in Portland. I normally don't like to be quite THAT close for a show but it was fucking amazing. Malia got some good pics with my phone despite her being devastated that she didn't bring her camera in.







Orick, CA knows what America needs...

The fall US Dandy's tour will have to get the glossing over treatment, both because the day to day happenings aren't as interesting as in Europe, but because my memories are largely blurred together anyway. We were out for a month, starting in Minneapolis, heading east to the coast then down and back across the south to San Diego and up to Portland. We had 2 bands that supported us on virtually all of the shows. Darker My Love is from LA via SF and The Upsidedown are from Portland and on the Dandy's label. Both bands were great musically but also especially good people to have around on a daily basis. There was much love going around on this tour, culminating in a big family dinner with everybody at a long table in Aspen. If you have the chance to check out either band, do. They bring the rock.
















I was supposed to fly from Dublin to Newark, go home for 3 hrs, fly from JFK to LA, stay overnight there, then fly to Australia to start the Albert tour. However, the whole thing cancelled on a couple days notice so I went home and sat on my ass for about 3 weeks. I made the best of it and saw lots of movies and shows. I saw the Police play their "last show ever" at MSG, which was pretty great despite sound that seemed to indicate that there was no bass or drums in the band. Oh well, it's not like the rhythm section is vital to that band's sound or anything. I also saw Radiohead a couple of times, once at a festival in Liberty State Park and once down in Camden, NJ. Both were stellar as usual and strangely, both involved a ferry ride.
Kerri on the ferry to Philly...







The festival itself was kind of a weird, family-day sort of thing with a bizarre range of acts you've never heard of (except maybe the Hollies who looked about 70). There were some pretty impressive fireworks at the end of our set. 












Of course it sounded brilliant and it was great to hear the new stuff. The next day, after my third pancake of the trip, I hopped a train to Paris where I met up with team Dandys. From there we were picked up by the tour bus and were off to Bilbao, Spain for the first show of the tour.
The next day was another, smaller festival in Cluses, France. We pulled into town (after a LONG journey during which the bus AC was broken. This always happens somehow. We took to holding bent pieces of cardboard out the hatch in the roof, angling the fresh air into the bus) to find out the festival was in the middle of this little town nestled in the French Alps. There were towering peaks in all directions and it seemed everyone in the little town turned out for this free festival.
Of course catering was filled with glorious, stinky cheeses, fresh bread & salads. We closed out the show just as it started to rain, which only added to the surreal feel of the day, and were off to Zurich.
I'm pretty sure we were the only one's staying there. For meals we'd sit out on the terrace with this view...
...and eat some of whatever they made that day. It was always fresh, delicious and simple. Octopus carpaccio, caprese salad, tagliatelle w/ricotta, lasagna. Oh, and the theme of this part our trip was 'rivers of wine'. Now, I'm not a huge wine person, but it's hard to deny how good this wine was.
Another beautiful patio, a really nice couple who run the place and absolutely ridiculously good food (and the aforementioned rivers of wine).
Later we meandered around the village taking pictures and digesting before heading back to the hotel for a nap before Galo's party.




Galo's house is about a mile down a country road from the hotel. As I said it's an old country mansion with gorgeous, walled in grounds and is just about the most bucolic setting you can imagine. I showed up at dusk to find tables & chairs scattered on the lawn with people gathering around the food table which had a progression of goodness churned out of the giant kitchen by some catering friends of Galo's, including this cheese that had a rind made out of the grape stuff left over from making wine. It looked absolutely disgusting but was quite possibly the best cheese in history. So we stayed there until 6am, eating, drinking and getting rocked by Zia's DJ prowess. We walked home along the dirt road and I fell into bed for a few hours before getting on the bus to go to the gig. It was definitely one of the best days/nights ever. Wish you were there.






We got on the bus at 1am to head towards Ostrava in the Czech Republic, leaving behind the Italian goodness...













After a couple post-Euro weeks in NYC, I headed up to Maine to spend a week at my dad’s cottage in Ocean Point. It’s rare that I get to spend time there in the summer as I’m usually working, so I made sure to take advantage of the opportunity. I ended up spending 5 nights there by myself, mostly focused on gorging on local delicacies, watching Red Sox games and enjoying the lack of city noise. I spent a good bit of time advancing my first tour as a production manager. I won’t bore you with what that means, suffice to say it involves lots of emails and excel spreadsheets. It also involves getting paid more, which I like. It was one of the most relaxing weeks I’ve had in ages. The tourist season hadn’t really arrived and the solitude felt particularly good after life in Alphabet City. I got 2 lobsters one day for lunch and got so much meat out of them that I had a big pile of lobster meat to use the next day for breakfast. Nothing wrong with a lobster, avocado & Grafton 4-year cheddar scramble to start your day. In keeping with the theme of overdoing local eats, I made a tasty dinner one night of broiled haddock (the best whitefish there is) and fiddleheads. I also consumed approximately 2 gallons of chowder over the course of the week. If you’ve never had seafood in Maine, you don’t know shit about seafood. And with that, I’ll leave you with pictures of food.

In an effort to actually leave my neighborhood and see some more of the city, I set out one day to check out the Cloisters. I wasn't really sure what to expect, but the website told me it was the medieval wing of the Metropolitan. It also told me that it's way the hell uptown. I took the 'A' train (cue Duke Ellington) to 190th st and made the 10 minute walk north through a very hilly Fort Tryon park. It was a pretty stellar day, a bit too hot in the sun but nice in the shade.























The police came and we thought this guy was going to jail, but this is Ireland and the nationalism runs deep. No Irish cop is arresting an Irish guy twice his age for beating up some sally English pricks. Ah, the bonds of country. Speaking of which, I'm back in mine, which is my favorite, even if it is in the shits.
I spent a couple weeks after my grandmother's funeral bouncing around New England in what seemed like one long episode of "This Is Your Life". I visited a steady stream of family, friends and places, many of which I hadn't seen in years. After a few days with family I headed to Portland to visit with Ben & Paula. Ben & I went for a drive up thru Cumberland (where I grew up) and Freeport, where we did some walking along a nice point at low tide. It felt good to get back to the places that feel most like home to me, even though I haven't lived there since I was 12. Back in Portland, we had a nice dinner at what I call "Takahachi North", a small sushi spot that Ben & Paula have made their own. The next day Ben & I headed NW to VT to visit with Jimmy & Anna. Jimmy's house in Mud City is where Jim, Ben & I lived together for a while. It was great to be together in that place again. There was still a ton of snow up there so we did some hiking/snowshoeing and just sucked in lungfulls of air bereft of exhaust and urine.






























Chip works the smoke...
















Festival crowd...

Perth. They say Perth is the most remote western city in the world. It's on the west coast of Australia, a million miles from everywhere. I've never had any time off here, so I've never ventured out of the city center, but apparently the beaches are amazing and never get crowded. I wish they could say the same about the rock venues. Our show was at smallish nightclub that was more set up for disco nights than rock shows. The stage was so tiny that I literally had to set up ON stage. Like I could put my feet up on Mickey's amp if I wanted. It was actually an amazing spot to sit except for feeling like a completely conspicuous douche up there where everyone could see me. The whole day was a nightmare trying to get everything happening. Plus there's a smaller club that's attached where some shitty scream-o bands were playing, so we were battling their noise all day. The gig itself was packed & sweaty. The band played a great set, marred again by gear troubles for Mickey. Poor Mickey, between playing in Ween and being a Philly sports fan, I now know what he means when he tells me "welcome to the losing team". Still, he knows how to dig his heels in and overcome. Here's a bunch of shots from the show. I was so drowned in the lights that most of them came out bad, but you get the idea. 












Another early morning flight today. This time to Adelaide, which is a lot like southern Arizona. Which is to say "hot as fuck". Oh, but it's a dry heat. Never mind that there's no ozone and the sun feels like an evil laser beam. The show was at one of those clubs that is a total nightmare to make a show happen in, but the band love playing. To be fair, these types of places usually have the best gigs, but it's no fun getting it there. Tonight was one of those gigs. The band played a really long set with a lot of stuff that doesn't get played very often. That's always a good sign with Ween. The whole thing ended with Never Squeal On The Pusher with the usual drum solo. This somehow devolved into Claude moving from drums to bass, Dave moving from bass to guitar and Mickey moving from guitar to drums. The ensuing madness made for good theater.





