PureVolume

Content. Or in this case blogtent. The everyday experiences and recollections that we electronically chisel into internet granite like so many words in a historical monument. It’s a tricky thing, attempting to weed through the information that’s entertaining, informative, incriminating, silly, boring, true, false, exaggerated, exacerbated, justified, bonafied, chicken fried….. So in the interest of blogtent and keeping our readership on the up and up, I’m going pretend that the recent Third Eye Blind tour is a extra large Grade A egg, and when I split it open, I’m going to separate the yolk from the white, the yolk being the final days in NYC, and the white being the tour as a whole. For those of you that are blogvegan and can’t digest eggs, I guess you are out of luck, because no where does a literary version of egg-beaters exist….at least not here. So New York City! These were to be the final two shows of the Third Eye Blind tour, taking place in the Nokia Theater in Times Square, in the bowels of the MTV building. The theater itself is fairly new, probably less than ten years old I would think, and pretty luxurious by Absentstar standards. Both shows were sold out, 2100 people each night. The previous show had been in Oswego NY, and we were thankful to be getting a nights rest before the shows, or at least we believed that we would be getting a good nights rest. Stopping somewhere in NJ, we tramped into our hotel. The thought was a lil dinner and some TV, then off to bed. I decided that some laundry detail was in order. When the nice lady at the hotel (a Comfort Inn, where we are Elite Platinum members gunning for Diamond status!!) saw us toting heaping bags filled with unmentionables down to the single serving Speed Queen, she saved us a lot of time and agony by allowing us to wash our clothes in the industrial strength machines that the hotel uses for towels and sheets. She asked us what we were washing after seeing some odd pieces of cloth that looked like they had been used as piranha bait, to which I informed her they were socks, or something that had once been known as socks, and that we might indeed make better use of a flame thrower than a washing machine. I came back up the elevator to our room on the third floor, only to be greeted by a non-menacing looking fellow with a faint Spanish accent and a powder blue suit that was sitting in a rolling office chair in front of the elevator door. I thought perhaps a former President was staying at the hotel, but realized that this guy was neither inconspicuous enough nor did he have the good fashion sense to be Secret Service. He might as well have had a pink carnation hanging out of his ear rather than the little ear-bud that the Secret Service always do. I mean, the dude looked corny. So I just flat asked him what he was doing there. He informed my, in a clipped and annoyed tone that there was a class of high school students on a field trip and he was the principal. That explained the powder blue suit as well as the screaming and door slamming I heard wafting down the hall, from the area around my room. JW is prone to screaming and door slamming too, though typically at 4AM rather than 10PM. Just then a juvenile female with braces and a bus load of attitude came strutting down the hallway like she had somewhere to be. Mr. Hallmonitor stopped her. He said something to her in Spanish, and she replied in Spanish. Now, I don’t speak Spanish that well, but I know the lingo enough that when a girl pops her tongue in response and rolls her eyes that she has obviously not gotten her way. As best I could tell, she had informed Mr. Hallmonitor that she had left something on the bus, or had an decoded an important piece of information for the NSA that she needed to take to the nearest field office. As she strutted away perturbed and muttering curses under her breath, I stoked the fire in my own way be singing the word DENIED as with three different high pitched notes. “DEEE-NYE-EDDDD” I I heard a “Tssss!” as the door slammed. I asked old powder blue where they were from, and to my dismay he replied “Alabama”. Hmmm… After I had answered the fourteenth prank phone call and endured hours of kids beating on the door that connected our unfortunately adjoining rooms, I’d decided that enough was enough. However, I wouldn’t be bothering the man snoozing down by the elevator whilst he should have been keeping his kids quiet. Nope, I had a little surprise in store for them, children that obviously had not been taught about the wrath of the sleeping patterns of a band on a tour schedule. Because you know what goes great in the background while folding laundry at 3AM? How about the Barret-Jackson Collector Car Auction and an auctioneer named Sparky on Speed Channel, volume cranked full blast with the TV pointed toward that same interconnecting door with my side open. You may think it would be annoying for me, however, I have some amazing ear plugs. “Can I get a five five five…fitty five five five, now sixty. Sixty one one one, and a one two two, can I get a two two two? Sixty three, three four, now five. Five over there and here a six, six six six now seven can I get and eight. Eight eight eight eight riddyariddyariddya eight, can I get and eight. Comma comma comma eight eight eight… So forth and so on till the piranha bait was folded. Now, some people have said over the years that revenge is a dish best served cold. In my personal opinion, revenge is a dish best served as a 1971 Plymouth Cuda in Plum Crazy with the numbers matching 440 Six-Pack and pistol grip shifter, for only $89,000 to the man in the green plaid shirt. SOLD! The next morning we awoke, not necessarily rested, but still feeling good. After a month of Manhattan flyby’s we were actually going to be going INTO the city. But first we had to stop at our hotel, the Sheraton, which was on the Jersey riverfront directly across from the Empire State Building. We were going to check in early, as we needed to get to the venue and load in. JW went in and got it all set up. The rooms weren’t ready to be occupied yet, so we just made it known that we would be back later that night. We rolled through Times Square and pulled up in front of the cavernous loading bay of the Nokia Theater. Glenn Kaufmann, the 3EB stage manager and now close friend, was waiting outside directing the litany of wheeled boxes and crates that had yet to be loaded in. He organized a group of loaders to help us get our stuff in while I milled about on the sidewalk snapping photo’s of the venue that said “TONIGHT – THIRD EYE BLIND w/ Absentstar – SOLD OUT!!” To say I was a bit awe struck and proud would be an understatement. I’m not so far removed from the days of scrounging and begging for shows in Chicago years ago that I can’t appreciate what a huge deal this was. Look at all the factors, our name in neon glory, Nokia Theater marquee, Third Eye Blind, Times Square, SOLD OUT!! It was a truly special moment. Once we got inside, I was wowed by the venue. As I said before, it was top notch in everyway. The venue wouldn’t be an issue though. You see, a few minutes before, I had been informed that as a right of passage, the opening band is hazed by the crew on the last day of the tour. We had no idea when or where this would come, or in what form. I kept my eyes peeled, or rather closed. The first night’s performance was filled with unknown faces, and what looked like a lot of people who were willing to give us a shot, provided that we could impress them in the first 30 seconds. The house lights dropped, and the crowd gave it’s initial WHOOOO!!! We walked onstage spaced single file, as Marshall constructed his symphony of synth distortion to usher us into the opening riffs of If You Like It. Derek marched out and got the crowd amped as we broke into the first verse. One by one you could see faces begin to light up as we played for them. We were also very amazed and pleased to see a loyal contingent of friends that we had made this past month, scattered around the room in pockets, chanting and singing along to the songs that they have become familiar with as they’ve followed the Absent Eye Blind (a term Stephan Jenkins coined) show around the Northeast. We were out to put on our best show for them, but also to win over new people. There was one guy in particular, center stage, that I was just intent on getting a reaction from, good or bad. He stood in judgment for the first six songs, but really warmed up, especially as we closed out the set with my favorite song we play, Give In To Me. The crowd gave us a really nice and boisterous cheer as we exited and I tossed some sticks out to people that called for them before getting offstage for good. We played our show, made a lot of new fans, and all without any type of onstage hazing in the form of nudity or confetti bombs. After the show we all collected ourselves by the merch table, where the venue had put up signs saying “Absentstar Recession Special”, a T-shirt and CD combo. We signed some autographs and gave out free hugs until everyone basically got kicked out. Also, we got to hang out with the College Radio department from Columbia, and that was awesome!! What a great bunch of guys. Our team from Canvasback Music was there, and there aren’t too many people in the world we get happier or more excited to see than them. It was a stellar hang with stellar people. So, mentally and physically exhausted, we piled back into Brimley and set the Garmin to take us back to the Sheraton, where we would actually get a good nights sleep in preparation for an in-office performance at the CMJ, College Music Journal. More of that in a moment. As I had mentioned before, we had checked in at the Sheraton around noon, and everything was set. We started dragging in all of our luggage, pull-behinds with no handles, Comanche litters, guitars, hefty bags of laundry, etc. The lobby began to look like those old photographs of Central Park in the 1930’s when homeless people stitched all of their possessions together into a kind of tent to live in. A three bedroom garbage pile. JW did his cowboy mosey up to the check-in counter to pick up our keys to what we were anticipating as the highlight stay of the entire tour, with rooms luxuriously appointed with ten piece chamber orchestras, a bathroom attendant that doubled as a Willy Wonka re-enactor, High-Def TV’s tuned to a 24 hour Family Guy channel, and Angels that fluttered around the room singing, rubbing our feet, and serving cold Budweiser in diamond encrusted goblets. Nothing too fancy mind you, but enough to make us feel a little like we were at home. I sat down in the lobby amongst our nonsense. I hear JW asking for our keys and the night manager say something about “We don’t have your rooms sir…” And silence…..followed by terse accusations and displeasure. JW was really lighting into them. I’m fairly certain I heard him bark like a rabid canine at one point. He informed them that it was already 3AM, and we had to leave by 9AM. They apologized for the mix-up, which was basically them charging us for a room, as well as charging someone else for that room too but giving them the key. They offered to shuttle us to another Sheraton 30 minutes away, where they had a room they would let us pay for. Jay said no way. That he expected HUMVEE limo service into the city, as well as a comp’d room. Infact, he wanted free stays for a year. The minutes kept ticking by, and I grew more tired and was drifting into delirium. Willy Wonka waved at me as he walked out, sipping Bud from the bejeweled chalice. The Angel flew by, high-def TV in tow with Peter Griffin on the screen laughing at me. I heard Derek yell “Are you telling me there aren’t any rooms in this place? Not even a last minute honeymoon suite??!?!! Give me a room with a heart shaped tub, I swear I won’t use it, I just want a bed!!” They had nothing. The verbal attacks went back and forth, and somehow they found out that they did have a room with double beds. So there we were, me, JW, Andy, Derek and Marshall. Five guys and two beds. We burst through the door and slept where we landed. The matter is still being resolved to our satisfaction. The next day, we got to CMJ for the acoustic performance. Now this was a really big deal for me, going back to my days as a college radio DJ, when I was a CMJ reporter, which basically means I charted the music I played and sent the playlists to them to publish and track. For many years CMJ has been one of the last bastion publications that really care about music, so I was excited to meet then men and women behind the shield of the defender. We brought some pizzas along for lunch, and then sat down with our acoustic guitars in their office. They ate while we played. The set list was Give In To Me, Everyone You Know and For God Sakes. Everyone at CMJ was so friendly and happy to hang out and chat about music or life in general. Great bunch of people!!! You should check out their New Music Monthly if you can get your hands on it. They were even nice enough to let me root through a massive pile of zigzag concert posters, letting me keep the duplicates (I got Art Brut, Les Savy Fav, and Dinosaur Jr). The final show of the tour was just a special and amazing experience. During sound check, Lawrell our stage sound engineer, told us not to let anything that happened on the side of the stage to affect the performance, to just roll with it. Already we were cringing a little, cause we knew the hazing was going to happen, but we felt the humor in it too. We also felt lucky and blessed to even be in the fortunate position of getting hazed by such a good group of fellows. So be it, we would accept our fate, whatever it may be. The stage was now dark, and in a few minutes we would be going on one last time for the final appearance of the 3EB/Absentstar Spring 2008 tour. Someone in the crowd noticed that we were milling around, doing last minute pre-show routines amidst the blinking and ambient light. Someone in the crowd, a man with a deep voice, screamed “ABSENTSTAR!!! YEAH ABSENTSTAR!!! WOOOOO!!” Then a girl’s voice yelled out in recognition “ABSENTSTAR!!!” Then more people started yelling, and hooting and hollering. The house lights dropped, and the thunder of the audience grew. Marshall began his synth intro, and I did my King Xerxes strut across the stage. I saw that same guy front and center, and he had both his arm in the air, pointing and me. I pointed back at him, and said “Hey you!!! Yeah man!!” And he let out a whoop and an “ABSENTSTAR!!!” We roared into If You Like It, but we took our time, instead of rushing hurriedly through the songs, concentrating on all the right notes and tempo’s, we let the set flow naturally and just tried to enjoy the moment. In between each song the crowd gave it’s resounding approval. There is usually a break in the songs, right before If What You Mean Is Harm, when Derek says a few words while Andy tunes up. But something was amiss this time. Derek said “Hello everybody, we are Absent*silence*. We have a r*silence* on Columbia Records and we are so happy to be *silence* with you all here tonight. Thanks to *silence* who came out tonight, we are so *silence* and hope to see you again soon. Thanks again *silence* the show.” I looked a Lawrell, but he didn’t seem to notice me, so I assumed Derek’s mic was clicking off, which it had done a couple of time at other shows. I told him to check the mic. He did, everything was fine. Ok, no big deal, a minor glitch and no one seemed to notice. We rolled into Harm, and the audience swayed with the guitar line. During the quiet bridge, my in-ear monitors erupted with a deep God-like voice saying “YOU SUCK”, as Marshall went into his guitar solo. It had begun. The crew was hazing us, right in our ears where no one but us and them would know. The banter kept on, louder and louder “Look at us, we are Absentstar, we suck. Look and me, I’m Marshall and I think I’m so cool playing guitar but really I suck…” (There was more, but this is what’s fit to print for the kids.) On and on and on. And we were cracking up. And the thing that we were afraid of, that being hazing messing us up or causing the song to collapse, I think actually added a layer of deconstruction that made our overall stage presence more relaxed and fun. All the way through the final song, again Give In To Me, the crew kept at it. Finally with Lawrell and Brian singing along on the final chorus, completely out of tune or tempo “GIVE IN TO ME….GIVE IN TO ME…” HAHA! And no one in the crowd was the wiser, except those who asked us later “Hey guys, you looked like you were really having a great time up there, what was so funny?” We met lots more people outside the venue at NYC at the merch table again, signed things and just had a great time talking with everyone, from the newest fan, to our dearest tour friends like Michelle, Kristen, Cody, Stacy, Stephanie and the entire group that slogged mile after mile to hang with us. It’s so wonderful getting to see them every night and I don’t think we’ll ever be able to express fully how much we appreciate them, and how much their support makes our world go around. So that’s about it for the NYC recap. I’m sure I’ll mention more about some of these things in the FULL TOUR BLOG that’s coming on the heels of this one. But this one is long enough already. Hope you had a really nice day! Heath.absentstar