Gypsyhawk: Noisecreep Tour Blog #2
Gypsyhawk are blogging for Noisecreep during this tour and with a shit-eating grin on our face, we present to you its second installment!
From Gypsyhawk guitarist Andrew Packer:
I was sharing with Kyle from The Sword that I've been picked as the blogger for this tour and he said, "Aw, man. Just write a haiku." So, here's what I came up with for Halloween in Oklahoma City.
That is probably gibberish to most of you so allow me to illuminate. We wanted to dress up for our show, but didn't have much money or time for significant costumes. So what we did was a get bunch of white makeup from WalMart for 97 cents a bottle. We squirted it all into the hands of Bonnie (merch wench) and she pressed them into each of our faces, like the dark warriors of the White Wizzard Saruman, the Urak-Hai, some advanced cross-breed of Ork and Man. The kids found us frightening, especially when Eric walked on stage and announced into the mic, "I SMELL MAN FLESH!" I think some kid ran out the front door.
Eagle Claw all wore bandanas and plaid shirts fastened solely on the top, hence the Suicidal Tendencies pun above. And as always, when they broke into song the kids broke into frenzy. It being Halloween and all there were a few kids dressed up in the audience. A personal favorite amongst some of us was the dude dressed up perfectly as Jon Snow from Game of Thrones, the HBO show. During The Sword's killer set (they've been blowing me away every night, by the way) he dedicated their tune "To Take the Black" to "all the Jon Snows out there." And there you have it. That's my haiku.
I'm going to try another one for Little Rock, AR.
That last part is about the city's (presumably) eponymous name. We weren't actively searching for crack or anything. We did walk around the supposedly gang infested part of town. I saw some cornrows but really it just looked like some small forgotten town with a few blocks taken over by corporate America. The free pills, we'll call them vitamins, got lost in the small useless pocket on the right side of Levi's so I had to cut it open with a knife. I also accidently set my hands on fire in the van while refueling my zippo. That was kinda cool, but pretty painful. But don't worry. I barely got a blister. The porn guy was this punisher dude that kept trying to get us to go back to his porn shop and smoke weed or something. I can't remember any more.
The next day we went to Shreveport, LA, our first time there. We ate some Cajun food at The Blind Tiger, a bunch of deep fried crawfish. After loading up and sound checking and shit we went next door to our green room, which was more of a green bar. Some how we got a whole bar to chill in and we didn't steal any booze. Maybe because there was a pool table covered in whiskey and beer and vegetables and minerals and chips and cereal for Bryan. After what turned out to be our first killer set of the tour we went back to our green bar and I smoked too much pot with The Sword. God damn it. When we stood up to go back to the venue for them to play I headed straight for the van to pass out. I took too much, man. But it's all good. I don't get enough sleep anyways.
We got added last minute to play Fun Fun Fun Fun Fun Fun Fun Fest in Austin and had to open. But that was rad because we got to play with some strange. Black Tusk, Liturgy, Royal Thunder, and Lord Dying. The Sword were playing the main portion of the fest and Eagle Claw didn't have a show so they just made way for Lincoln, but since they're so fucking awesome Luther gave us the key to his house where we eventually ended up and passed out. Except for Eric. It was his turn that night to take a nap in the van after the show. He got shit faced and puked on himself. Sometimes when doing lots of free white powdery drugs you don't realize how drunk you're getting. Pretty funny. Austin is one of my favorite cities in America and that night was no exception to its reputation for a good rock n roll town. Ron was stressed out the next two days because he was sure we forgot something while packing up. Did we? We were all a little inebriated. And by a little I mean completely.
The next day we drove straight to Lincoln, NE where we're set to play the next night at the Bourbon. That morning Ian pulled over to discuss his feelings and I snapped and chewed him out pretty hard. I felt bad eventually and gave him a hug. Sorry, Ian. You're like the little brother I never wanted. This is where I'd like to start bitching about some other shit. Trailer lights and casters. So Eric is driving and everyone else is horizontal, it's night time, and it's cold as shit outside. I start to hear a sound come from the back that was absent the whole tour. Never a good sign. I asked Ian, who sleeps on the back bench, if he could track the source of the noise. "It's just the wind." Just the wind my ass!! The god damn wheel well for the right tire of the trailer busted off and was grinding away the tire.
That's the last time I don't go with my gut on stuff like that. Once the wheel well somehow worked it's way through the trailer lights we knew something was wrong. We pulled over and tried to fix it but we're not , like, mechanics with mechanical things and shit. So of course we got pulled over by the pigs who let us off with a warning. We're in the goddamn middle of nowhere, what were we supposed to do? "Drive with your hazards on." Whatever. We've had a slew of trailer light issues this tour and as I'm writing this we're experiencing another on the way to Chicago. This time all of them are out. Good thing we decided to leave Milwaukee, "The Good Earth", so early. And now I'm going to bitch about castors. Fuck castors. Marshall is the most ubiquitous amp company on earth in the history of humans and you can't buy their castors anywhere except through special orders online for like, $80. They're always breaking and falling off and you have to replace all of them if one goes because you're not going to find one that matches the other three if you don't want your amp to fall over on stage while rocking hard. It's dumb.
Lincoln, NE. The Bourbon is pretty huge. Drastic change from the previous month's show in a basement. In fact there were people there saying how they couldn't see us in the basement because it was so cramped and that they didn't even know there were four of us. Or that we were white. Or male. It was rad to be back with Eagle Claw and The Sword. I had to play with my Marshalls stacked like an asshole because I had the broken caster. The sound was not hot. Ian couldn't hear shit. So he fucked up pretty bad on a few songs, but we're pros and try not to let it show. Nonetheless, even if the audience doesn't notice, a big blunder will potentially ruin your night despite all else. After the show you can be in a fire truck doing coke off strippers' butts while rap battling Shaquille O'Neil and you'll still be dragged down by hitting the wrong string during a solo or forgetting a change in a song that you've played a thousand times. It just sucks. So after we went back to the hotel, grabbed a DVD of Armageddon, and drank the rest of our whiskey. Bonnie and I also saved Ron from falling out a window. It was only two stories but we can't risk any broken arms this tour. Now that I think about it, only Bonnie saved him. I was drunk and spilling hot chocolate on my pillows. Lame.
The day after we headed further up the north where it's cold and bleak and dark and not like home at all. Minneapolis is a big city. It kinda looks like downtown Vegas to me if most of the lights were off or something. Maybe the Hoover Dam is exploding like in Beavis and Butt-Head Do America. Anyway this venue, First Street, is way rad. They pay dudes to help haul all your gear in and set it up. And there were a lot of those guys there that night because, despite their night off, they wanted to see the show because The Sword rules, Eagle Claw is the shit, and we're pretty good, too. The sound was amazing in this massive room; 1500 capacity and it was packed. It also has a door that goes into this awesome restaurant/bar that gives you half-off everything if you flash a tour laminate. I got some bitchen teriyaki wings and a "breakfast burger" that had egg, cheese, and bacon on Texas toast. The egg was perfect and dripped yellow shit all over my fat ass. Yes, I've gained weight this tour already, but whatever. Winter is Coming. So, anyways they had TVs in there covering the election. First it said Romney was winning. But obviously he got his monkey ass kicked which I found out 20 minutes later. I'm sure a lot of you believe there's no difference between the parties and that Goldman Sachs is always the real winner and we're all losers who just lead pointless, shitty lives while our betters get rich and manipulate everything to their advantage. Well, my life is awesome and I care about the striking differences between those two assholes. Yesterday was a victory for women, the sick, the economy, and pot smokers. And, I simply don't like Romney as a person and if nothing else I like that I can point at him like Nelson Muntz and say, "Ha ha!"
Well, that's it for now. Oh, what the hey. Here's another haiku.