So we kicked off the tour with a great, fun show in Kent. Now it's nice to say that our best show on the tour happened in Brooklyn. It took place at Don Pedro, another dive bar, but one that serves burritos and has skee ball. The atmosphere was simple enough but there weren't very many distractions from the music playing, even with skee ball and pinball. That is always a good personality for the venue to have. I think we played our first error-free set. And the lineup was just really good and complimentary. The Rizzos were a fine 2-girl/2-guy kinda-Ramonsey rock band. Then Field Guides were just great- catchy songs, players who knew how to fit within those songs, and personality. Ben's voice and demeanor was reminding me so much of Pulp's Jarvis Cocker (which is a good similarity). His guitar tone was brilliantly over-the-top. And the songs were well-written. Alex and Brenna have a pre-existing friendship with Field Guides and it was encouraging to see how supportive everyone in that band were to them. Then The Meaning of Life were probably what someone expects when they think of a Brooklyn band. They were snotty, female fronted, and reverb-drenched. They had one song that should be a sure hit single. I'm actually suprised that Field Guides or The Meaning of Life have not been recruited by any of the hipster Brooklyn labels like Captured Tracks.
Overall the line-up was very solid. It is interesting to know that Alexander booked the entirety of this show from 585 miles away, working with two bands he did not know and at a venue he had never been to. And it worked.
The night was made sweeter by the friends in attendance. The crowd was peppered with labelmates and Daytonians (Johnny and Alex), former Indianians (Leah), and former Springfieldians (Sarah and Brad). And everyone else in the attendance greatly encouraged The Florals after seeing us play. Music is great but the friendships involved in music and the life encompassing the music make it special.
I don't know what more to say about the beard at this point. It's just there, not fully grown-in but substantial enough to make me want to do things to distract people from my face. I just don't have confidence in it. So yesterday I decided to wear my white pants. Wearing white pants is the psychological equivalent of not wearing any pants at all. Or at least it just seems like the whiteness covering my legs draws all the attention. "You just have to own it" according to Gigi, which is easier said when you are The Greek God of Style. The rest of us struggle. The diversion tactic is at least a bit more comfortable being in Brooklyn. There was one other guy we passed who wasn't wearing any pants. I bet he was growing a beard too. Hang in there dude!
We leave for the drive home as soon as everyone wakes up. The tour has been a blast but it will be a joy to be home.