Road Diary Get Trashed: The Trashies Tour, Week One
posted by March 21 at 14:35 PMon
(Local rockers the Trashies are currently on tour. So far their van has broken down, someone has been arrested, and they’ve taken some, uh, pills. They’ll be checking in with us every couple of days or so, letting us know how it’s going—it’s sure to be hilarious. Here’s installment number one of the Trashies’ tour diary, a recap of the band’s first week on the road.)
Here we are with Out of Order recordhead Heather Klinger just before leaving Davis post-van breakdown.
This tour has been a real pain in the ass to get together. Being on our fourth tour, we had a few contacts in some cities to help us book the shows, but we’re mostly going to new places on the East Coast and in the South so it’s really taken a shitload of planning. Not to mention the fact that we didn’t even have a van to tour in until two days before we hit the road, and we have a new record and two new 7”s that we had to get together right before we left… but nonetheless, it has begun!
It was really killer to see our friends Blackout Drunk in Seattle falling down at the Funhouse, haven’t done that in months. And the Unnatural Helpers destroyed with their new three-piece line up. Talk about shitrock, those guys murdered my mind with radicality.
Portland was pretty dynamite also. We were greeted by our former roadie who adorned us with many joints of skunkweed which, at the time, seemed radikiller but later would come to bite us straight in the asshole. When we got to the club it was a bit weird as a bunch of our parents and family showed up from our hometown of Longview, WA. They got to see us wasted while we spit fart sounds out of our instruments. I elected to not ask my mom what she thought of the show while she drunkenly blabbed about how much better we’d gotten at our instruments.
One thing that consistently sucks about Portland, though, is the day after—that fuckin’ 10-hour drive to the Bay Area that begins in the netherhours of the morning is always a crusher. We opted out this time and decided to drive to a buddy’s house in Ashland, Oregon after the Portland show. Unfortunately that’s still five hours, and when you leave at 2:30 AM in your van that, at this point, still has no stereo, you’ve got a lot of tired silent driving. Fortunately for us, our drummer is a robot driver and can be programmed to stay awake with trucker speed and sugar coffee.
Opting out of a confusing show in Oakland that may or may not have actually happened, we decided to play the awesome town of Davis, California where Out of Order Records (who put out a 7” of ours) is located. We had a lot of problems before our Davis show—the bass amp blew up and refused to work despite our prodding and shitattacking, and our van would not move from the driveway we parked it in to unload. But before we could let this shit get us in a stink, we just borrowed some bass shit and played the most ripping house show I’ve ever played in the tiny living room of local radio station KDVS’ legendary dude, DJ Rick. Davis really knows how to fucking party, man.
We don't look suspicious when we break into pools, very casual.
At this point we had the first bummer of the tour—our van’s ignition switch was fucked up on a Saturday night, which meant we couldn’t get it fixed until Monday and we’d have to miss two shows and pay $150 instead of getting to play and hang in LA and Tucson. We just chilled in Davis, had our roadie cook us some seriously killer burritos, broke into some hotel swimming pools, took some pills, and drew all day. It was like we were fucked up 10-year-olds--best place to break down ever!
These are some alternate record covers we drew while we farted around in Davis.
The thing in our van took approximately 10 minutes to fix, which was super annoying, but we just wanted to get back to playing. Immediately after it was fixed, we mounted a mind numbing drive from Davis to Phoenix that took about 13 hours, and stayed with our ultra-stoner friend there who, lucky for us, had a swimming pool that we could abuse. The next morning, we hauled our freakshow straight to the always-awesome Las Cruces, New Mexico. Fucking great time playing to 10 people outside in some weird public park where they just bring a power strip and a PA, hijack the outlet, and set up shows—totally amazing dudes, desert wind, and downright ridiculously good Mexican food.
Feeling the sweet desert wind of Las Cruces, New Mexico.
This was the first week, and although it was a bit rockier than our past tours, it was all going all right. And we still had SXSW to look forward to, which is always a three-day, nonstop party factory mixed with all kinds of scumfucks from around the nation.