Last Tuesday was our first time on The Steve Katsos Show, thanks to, I’m told, Phil Fleming giving us a shoutout on the program last year (thanks Phil!). It didn’t disappoint. I’ve caught the show a few times, but seeing it up close was something to behold. Can’t stress how much these folks really care about this show, especially with a working budget of $0. What they’re doing is magic and worthy of everyone’s support. The show’s currently being edited for broadcast in the fall, but you can watch the Livestream here. We ended up having to tape our songs again, because one of us galoots knocked over the bass drum mic. The magic of television, am I right?
Post-show, we took a bunch of photos with Steve. We were warned they would be extremely weird, but everything seemed perfectly normal to us. What this says about the daily state of our minds, I do not know.
On the way back to the rehearsal space, Frank insisted we record his thoughts about Whiplash for posterity. His loathing of the film has taken epic proportions in Boston, to the point that people end up talking to him about it more than he’d like. His breakdown of the film went on for twenty minutes (plus a supplemental voicemail), so this will basically be our next podcast episode.
By the by: our Katsos appearance was Frank’s final hurrah with us. We had to boot him because of his terrible, dark obsession with Whiplash, which was affecting his ability to perform and interact with his friends and family. That’s what I wish I could say, because it sounds infinitely cooler. There are no juicy details, I’m afraid. Frank felt it was time to tap out after three years, and he was cool enough to stick around for a few months to fulfill some tour dates. Frankly (nyuck nyuck), having him around was pretty vital to us feeling good about being band at a time when we needed it, which led directly to It’s Got To Be Now… etc. etc. You know the story. But we owe him for that, and we’re very grateful he decided to stick around as long as he did.
Also: choked on vomit.
What does this mean for shows down the road, you ask? At this point in our lives, we have left a trail of destruction in terms of drummers we’ve played with whom we can call upon, so — unfortunately for our sleep cycles — it’s still full steam ahead for Aloud.
Case in point: our friend Mike Tucker will be sitting behind the kit for our show in Florence next week. We caught up with him and brushed up on a shitload of tunes this past Saturday.
Somewhere in the middle of all that, I caught Letterman’s last show. The dude’s a genius, and it’s a little sad to know he won’t be on the air anymore. Embedded in my memory is a summer vacation I spent watching his Late Night reruns on NBC almost every night. May have also been mildly obsessed with Bill Carter’s book The Late Shift a few years ago. (If you haven’t read it, I recommend it. Last I checked, the book’s out of print, but hey… that’s what libraries are for.)
Headed down to Vanyaland‘s Center of it All party two nights in a row, where we were treated to an excellent view of the Boston Calling festival, already in progress:
Caught the tail end of Beck’s set on the first night. He was playing “Think I’m in Love” (seriously, is there anything the guy can’t do?). Super bummed we couldn’t catch Lucius on Sunday.
Saturday, Jen and I dropped in after rehearsal to do a live acoustic thing/interview for VanyaRadio’s This is 617.
After this weekend, things feel electric. The fact that this festival has blown up in the way it has in just two short years is fucking incredible. Awesome Day Fest in Allston is blowing up. It’s easy to grouse about the arts scene here and the city in general, particularly after this past winter.
But the fact is good things are happening in this city, and you don’t have to look very hard to find them.
Spent the rest of the weekend hanging out with friends we hadn’t seen in a while, finally watching Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and getting mildly sick.
I also ran into this tub of lard in JP:
Looking forward to our adventures in Western Massachusetts this week. Mostly because Florence is the birthplace of the Ninja Turtles.
PS: Jilly Gagnon and her writing partner Mike MacDonald have a comedy book coming out. You should sign up for their email list. Just fucking do it, alright?