eddie from ohio journal February 7, 2005

7 February 05 as told by Clem



It's Super Bowl Monday, and I'm feeling a little let down after yesterday's big game. It's not so much about the game itself - heck, I can't even remember who was playing (was it Dallas and San Francisco?). I'm more let down by the commercials - not a very impressive or entertaining lot this year. Granted, Gladys Knight with a rugby ball was good for a little left of center chuckle, but the rest? Bleh. C'mon, how many times must MC Hammer appear as a parody of himself, illustrating that his star has faded? I don't agree. We share initials and plus I still have his poster up in my room, and no, you can't touch it.



Speaking of Budweiser (were we speaking of Budweiser? When discussing halftime ads, you've pretty much said Bud, and have ultimately said it all), our '05 tour began in St. Louis, at a venue right next to the Anheuser Busch Plant. We'd never seen it before, but it had all the mystery and ominous allure normally associated with the Willy Wonka Factory. You see, nobody comes in. Nobody comes out. Maybe they were busy working on the new caffeinated beer, and making sure Slugworth never gets his hands on the secret formula. Maybe they were closed for cleaning, who knows? Caffeinated beer, though. Hmmm. Imagine a world with more wide awake drunks. That's progress. Coors is probably hard at work with a beverage that contains Viagra (insert funny name idea here).



After a nice, frozen stop in the navel of Illinois (Springfield), we headed to Ann Arbor for a two-date engagement at The Ark. Good pal Christopher Williams opens the shows, and even has his friend, Vinx, visit the second show. You may not have heard of Vinx, but our own Eddie has, and holds him in very high regard as a world percussionist of renown. Vinx stayed for our set, and passed a compliment along I only wish I could repeat, but children are probably reading (despite AOL Parental blocking). I'll keep it clean. This time.



Another highlight of the midwest was Eddie's discovery of a chain of truck washes that can actually accommodate Harvey... I mean HAZEL. There is hope that our reliable band vessel will retain its showroom white, at least for a few more months.



The next batch of shows brought us home for a three date run at the legendary Birchmere. Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers, Mark Erelli and Ellis Paul were the openers each night, and every show had its own special highlight (not involving explosives or animal sacrifice). The last night was unfortunately marred by an untimely snow dump that kept a number of ticket holders away from the sold out show, and we're sorry they couldn't join us. Hats off to the Birchmere for their resilience and partial insanity for staying open on an evening that saw most events cancel.



The last weekend of January was off, and I was out every night enjoying other people's music for a change. I even crashed the stage a few times. Sometimes, I was even invited. From Hawaiian Slack Key guitar at Wolf Trap, to the great Bill Kirchen at the Birch, to the fabulous Mary Ann Redmond at Starland Cafe to Brother Shamus at Adams Morgan, I was like a middle-aged guy in a candy store. Brother Shamus would be none other than Eddie's new band. I've heard them a dozen times now, and they keep getting better and better and better. Catch 'em while you can. They lay down such an infectious groove with every tune, that no one can keep from shuffling in their place, or bobbing their head in communal approval. Why, even I find myself breaking into "The Robot". Why? Because I don't know any other dances, other than The Bus Stop, The Electric Slide, The Bump with the Ugly Eighth Grader and The YMCA -- all of which would surely get me beat up (even at a retirement home).



February just had a great start as we had a very successful "triangle" of shows in North Carolina. The first two shows brought us to places and promoters we haven't seen in years. By the mid-late nineties, we began phasing out the louder rock rooms with late start times and unflushable toilets, and replacing them with seated/listening shows with earlier start times, affording us the ability to get in touch with our inner wuss. Two rock venues came back around and seemed eager to try the early/seated approach. While the toilets remain unflushable, a splendid time was had by all. Thanks, Lincoln Theater and Ziggys. You may expect to see us returning sooner than later to these rock palaces with our navel gazing songcraft and plungers.



Finishing off the weekend was Charlotte. We would be NOTHING in this town, had it not been for the great Gregg McGraw. How great is he? His name gets an extra 'G', that's show great. Before Gregg, our attempt at breaking the market was so futile that we would've broken up on the spot, had it not been for outstanding car payments. Some of the venues were so seedy, we even played a room with dog poop on the stage (at least, we hope it was a dog's work). Gregg came along by the late 90s and got us into theaters which attracted crowds, garnered press, and grew our Edhead base immensely. We wish every town had a Gregg McGraw, and we may even entertain the option of cloning him. We met his folks and they gave us their blessing since they're past their re-productive years. This weekend, Gregg placed us in the most wonderful performance hall of Charlotte yet, The McGlohan Theater. We played. People clapped. Eddie soloed. People stood. I joked and cajoled. One person stood (he was straightening his shorts). All in all, a great start of 2005.



Back to Super Bowl Sunday: yep, the ads were lame, but there was no Janet boob-out. The National Anthem was first rate. The game was close, and Sir Paul McCartney played an amazing four song set. With no caffeine in my beer, I slept pretty soundly last night.



You can't touch this,

MC Nail