Lawnchair's 2008 came to a close back on December 12th, back at the old Waterfront. We had a pretty fun year all in all and it ended up in a rather rollicking way. The show started with a technical meltdown which, in the end, turned up a positive. Issues had plagued my gear for a while and I couldn't pin point the problem, that is until it all but crapped out. Well, that'll be fixed for '09. Anyway, we got rolling along having a good old time, and sure enough the shots came flying. Some old friends wanted to help us have a blast playing our last show of the year. As we played through the sets, shots of all type and proof came from all angles. Jimmy, on his usual trip around the bar, received an early christmas gift (or should I say a pair of gifts). On his extendo-solo trip around the bar, playing bottles and glasses along the way, a rather striking blond said "Play these!" Down the top went... as did Jimmy's jaw. After a momentary pause to consider (Jimmy actually dropped the beat - that never happens), Jimmy couldn't take the though of injuring such a giving woman's chest and made his way to the bar and back.
It was a great night. I can't say that we played our best, but damned if we didn't have a blast. Thanks to everyone who came out, and bought us booze, and sang along and danced their asses off at this past show and every other throughout the year! Y'all have helped us have a ton of fun and hopefully we've done a little of the same for you... especially during such a shitfull year.
Onward and upward. Thanks again, and we hope to see y'all a little further down the road.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
I got a feva...
A week or so ago I couldn't even look at my guitars. I thought I might just hang it all up for a while. We played a lack luster show down in Silver Spring, and it was all starting to feel like too much work... the booking and the promotion and - the whole thing just seemed like a drag.
Well, I woke up last Friday morning foaming at the mouth to play. Who knows why, but I was amped. I could only think about that night's show. All day I sat at my desk, boiling on the inside, just waiting to rock.
So I get to the gig and the band from the early show isn't loaded out yet. We've played this Friday gig for something like three years now, and we've never had the early show run so late. Parking was horrendous as usual, so I dumped my gear so I could circle like a vulture to get a decent parking spot. One of the guys from the early band started giving me a bunch of shit about how much easier it would be to load out if my gear wasn't there. I bit my lip (though I wanted to completely pummel this little fuck in front of all of his slow-moving bandmates just to prove my point), and stated my case. Fuming, I hopped back into the car and found a place to park. On the walk back to the club, the seed of doubt started to sprout in my head. "See, you were right, it's all become a huge pain in the ass."
We got her going and things were weird. The crowd was pretty thin and uninterested for the first few songs. Aw man, was I right about all this?
Well, the bad tide washed out and a big full high tide of listeners and ass-shakers rolled in and lifted us on their backs. By the end of the first set, the place was going ape and they were crying out for more. We took a quick break to regroup and rehydrate, then lit into a blistering second set. The band was playing some inspired stuff. Ebbing and flowing... we could go anywhere we wanted. We were tighter than a bull's ass in fly season and the crowd was into it, fully invested. We took one last, quick, break and they all hung with us. We pounded down a round of bourbon together and fired into what would be the last set of the night. The whole thing ended with an explosion of sweat and sound. The whole joint was screaming and clapping as we closed out the last song. What a night!
While we were packing up and folks were on their way out, we were showered with kind words and promises to do it all again. We sold some disks and loaded out. The whole band felt great. We were all grinning from ear to ear, feeling great about what just happened. They are an awesome bunch of talented guys, all in it together. I left the night feeling lucky to be a part of such a good thing, and have the guys so onboard and supportive of the songs.
I can't wait for the next show.
Well, I woke up last Friday morning foaming at the mouth to play. Who knows why, but I was amped. I could only think about that night's show. All day I sat at my desk, boiling on the inside, just waiting to rock.
So I get to the gig and the band from the early show isn't loaded out yet. We've played this Friday gig for something like three years now, and we've never had the early show run so late. Parking was horrendous as usual, so I dumped my gear so I could circle like a vulture to get a decent parking spot. One of the guys from the early band started giving me a bunch of shit about how much easier it would be to load out if my gear wasn't there. I bit my lip (though I wanted to completely pummel this little fuck in front of all of his slow-moving bandmates just to prove my point), and stated my case. Fuming, I hopped back into the car and found a place to park. On the walk back to the club, the seed of doubt started to sprout in my head. "See, you were right, it's all become a huge pain in the ass."
We got her going and things were weird. The crowd was pretty thin and uninterested for the first few songs. Aw man, was I right about all this?
Well, the bad tide washed out and a big full high tide of listeners and ass-shakers rolled in and lifted us on their backs. By the end of the first set, the place was going ape and they were crying out for more. We took a quick break to regroup and rehydrate, then lit into a blistering second set. The band was playing some inspired stuff. Ebbing and flowing... we could go anywhere we wanted. We were tighter than a bull's ass in fly season and the crowd was into it, fully invested. We took one last, quick, break and they all hung with us. We pounded down a round of bourbon together and fired into what would be the last set of the night. The whole thing ended with an explosion of sweat and sound. The whole joint was screaming and clapping as we closed out the last song. What a night!
While we were packing up and folks were on their way out, we were showered with kind words and promises to do it all again. We sold some disks and loaded out. The whole band felt great. We were all grinning from ear to ear, feeling great about what just happened. They are an awesome bunch of talented guys, all in it together. I left the night feeling lucky to be a part of such a good thing, and have the guys so onboard and supportive of the songs.
I can't wait for the next show.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
It's a Summertime Thing
It's been a long, long time...Lawnchair has had a great Summer thus far. We've been having a blast playing Gettysburg, Brooklyn, and our dirty old town of Baltimore.
The 4th of July gigs in Gettysburg went great even with some last minute rearranging due to inclement weather. As usual, the folks up there were great and they really dug the show. We rolled straight from the house party to our home-base up there, the Gerryowen, where we came blasting through the back door and straight through a super rocked up set. We were flying! The next night we played a gig up at Woodhall Wine Cellars, where our contact Al and his crew laid out the hospitality. We played some old songs and new ones for the small but receptive crowd. 3 shows in 2 days, and it was great. The varying locations and crowds had us playing 3 drastically different shows, from quiet and intimate to loud and raucous, and somewhere in between.... all straight up fun.
Then, it was up to NYC to play Hank's Saloon in Brooklyn. We were supposed to split the night with our old palls the Country Devils, but their lead singer/guitar player broke his hand a few days before. So, we headed up on our own, to play 3 sets to a small but receptive crowd. We had a blast. It was a trip full of bonding, catching up, mechanical breakdowns, and rock-n-roll. Keri, the bartender/sound engineer who kept us fueled up and sounding good all night, served far too many shots and made it possible to pass out for an hour or two in the sweatbox that night. The next morning's technical issues and drive, however, did not benefit from the libations.
The first show of August was back home at the Waterfront Hotel. I was testing out a new (used) guitar, the crowd was packed in and tuned up, and we got our friend Jenny from the SLC in Utah to sing one with us. It was a great night. We were throwing the Bohs down as fast as we were sweating them out. I'm not sure why, but I love those sweaty, packed shows.
Last week was loaded up with some great music. For what ever reason I hadn't been to a big rock show for awhile. On Wednesday night I finally caught Lucero live. Man, that band rocks. The first set was great, but the second slid into a drunken mess. This seems to be their M.O., but I think that it cheapens a potentially wildly good band. Ben Nichols writes songs that are far too good to become a second set laughing stock. The show definitely had some great moments though. Saturday I caught John Hiatt at Hot August Blues, and man-o-man he was exemplary.... I leave it at that.... damn he was good.
We've got some more shows coming up, and we hope to see you there. Check the schedule at:
myspace.com/lawnchair
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Long time no blog...
It's been quite a while and we've been having a blast, so much so that we can't really remember everything that's gone down since. We'll just say that HonFest was great and we have a bunch more cool shows lined up for this sweaty summer. Lawnchair will be spending the 4th of July in Gettysburg, PA, playing a private party then rocking out with our buddies Booker Lee and the County Fair at the Garryowen.WTMD played "Hard to Swallow" a couple of weeks back... that's pretty cool. We're playing Hank's Saloon in Brooklyn with the Country Devils on July 19 and Quarry House in Silver Spring with them on September 20. Check the schedule at myspace.com/lawnchair and come on out and see us.
Oh - work should be resuming shortly on the new record!!!
Monday, March 3, 2008
In the Can
Well, it's been a while since the last post, but some big stuff has gone down. Lawnchair recorded what will eventually become our third record. Our friend Colin was off of the road (Allman Bros./Gov. Mule) so we had him come back to "Old Yellow House" to record some songs for us.
The weekend started off great. We loaded the gear in on Friday evening, ran all the cables, set up mics, checked the set ups and headed out to throw down some beers and catch a Glenmont Popes show. We had a long day planned the next day with a long list of songs and a short time to get them.
Saturday morning I woke up with some sort of awful stomach flu that I initially thought was the worst hangover I'd ever had. All the fellas arrived and we got to work. I had to play through it. I was not going to waste the opportunity. We worked fast and furiously all day. My illness, though inaudible on the recording, made me focus and we knocked the songs out in few takes. Any chance to lay down between takes was taken advantage of - if someone was tuning, I was laying down or getting some fresh air in the hope of not puking halfway through the next verse.
From what I heard of the play back (I didn't listen to much, I fell into my bed as soon as the last note had rung out) and from what the boys said, it sounds great. Again, there's an assortment of styles and tones on the record. Colin was sort of amazed at the difference in the band's sound since the last record. There's going to be something for everyone on the new record; from straight up rockers, to more mellow material... even a solo arrangement.
There are a few overs to do - solos and backing vocals - but I can't wait to hear the first mixes. Colin is doing all the mixing of the record, instead of Eric and I. It will be interesting to have it completely out of our hands. I can't wait to hear it.
The weekend started off great. We loaded the gear in on Friday evening, ran all the cables, set up mics, checked the set ups and headed out to throw down some beers and catch a Glenmont Popes show. We had a long day planned the next day with a long list of songs and a short time to get them.
Saturday morning I woke up with some sort of awful stomach flu that I initially thought was the worst hangover I'd ever had. All the fellas arrived and we got to work. I had to play through it. I was not going to waste the opportunity. We worked fast and furiously all day. My illness, though inaudible on the recording, made me focus and we knocked the songs out in few takes. Any chance to lay down between takes was taken advantage of - if someone was tuning, I was laying down or getting some fresh air in the hope of not puking halfway through the next verse.
From what I heard of the play back (I didn't listen to much, I fell into my bed as soon as the last note had rung out) and from what the boys said, it sounds great. Again, there's an assortment of styles and tones on the record. Colin was sort of amazed at the difference in the band's sound since the last record. There's going to be something for everyone on the new record; from straight up rockers, to more mellow material... even a solo arrangement.
There are a few overs to do - solos and backing vocals - but I can't wait to hear the first mixes. Colin is doing all the mixing of the record, instead of Eric and I. It will be interesting to have it completely out of our hands. I can't wait to hear it.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
New Song(s), New Life
Work has begun. Hot on the heels of "Hard to Swallow" a new collection of songs are being prepped for recording. Some new, some we've been playing... but a solid collection in my humble opinion. More on that later. Here's the lyrics to a new one. I just returned from the beautiful and awe-inspiring subject of this song, so recently that I can still taste the clear mountain air.
I wrote "Cottonwood Canyon" on the first sitting. I can't remember the show I saw that night, but as soon as I got back to our house I bee-lined for my guitar and it all fell out... every single word. The chords and lyrics leaped from me all at once. That's not the sort of thing that happens with every song I write, but when it does it really creates a bond between us (myself and the song).
I used to struggle to write things that were not directly about my life. In the past few years I've been able to find the path to turn real-life experience or emotion into fiction. This song was written, perhaps (as I'm still not 100% sure), from the point of view of some one on their death bed. Crying out of delirium for the wishes never achieved, or opportunities never attained. The protagonist has seen and lived hard times. He's been infirmed since his youth and, nearing the end, wants to return to the one ray of light that cut through the murk of his rough journey.
"Cottonwood Canyon"
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
You just recall all the bad times.
We packed everything we owned
And headed out for the West
Nothing wet like the Pacific
Just dirt and brier and all the rest.
Not a penny for bread,
not a nickel for beer
You can't hide that shaking in your eyes,
holding back all the fear.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
You just recall all the bad times.
When I was just 15 years old
My lungs were filled with black coal dust
The town doctor, he sent me home
To lay around my days and rust
Nothing but dirt to fill our bellies,
we were too damn dry to cry
That poor son of a bitch my daddy,
he's just waiting around to die.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
You just recall all the bad times.
I remember those summer days
When the creek would get all swollen
We would lay in the tall grass there
In the quiet we'd stolen.
You were a vision all covered with dirt,
brown and sweaty from the field you worked
And I just laid there 'neath that broad shade tree,
dreaming away the hours 'till you were there with me.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
You just talk about the bad times.
You just live amongst those bad times.
*I can also see the song as a duet, with a female voice singing the last verse.
I wrote "Cottonwood Canyon" on the first sitting. I can't remember the show I saw that night, but as soon as I got back to our house I bee-lined for my guitar and it all fell out... every single word. The chords and lyrics leaped from me all at once. That's not the sort of thing that happens with every song I write, but when it does it really creates a bond between us (myself and the song).
I used to struggle to write things that were not directly about my life. In the past few years I've been able to find the path to turn real-life experience or emotion into fiction. This song was written, perhaps (as I'm still not 100% sure), from the point of view of some one on their death bed. Crying out of delirium for the wishes never achieved, or opportunities never attained. The protagonist has seen and lived hard times. He's been infirmed since his youth and, nearing the end, wants to return to the one ray of light that cut through the murk of his rough journey.
"Cottonwood Canyon"
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
You just recall all the bad times.
We packed everything we owned
And headed out for the West
Nothing wet like the Pacific
Just dirt and brier and all the rest.
Not a penny for bread,
not a nickel for beer
You can't hide that shaking in your eyes,
holding back all the fear.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
You just recall all the bad times.
When I was just 15 years old
My lungs were filled with black coal dust
The town doctor, he sent me home
To lay around my days and rust
Nothing but dirt to fill our bellies,
we were too damn dry to cry
That poor son of a bitch my daddy,
he's just waiting around to die.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
You just recall all the bad times.
I remember those summer days
When the creek would get all swollen
We would lay in the tall grass there
In the quiet we'd stolen.
You were a vision all covered with dirt,
brown and sweaty from the field you worked
And I just laid there 'neath that broad shade tree,
dreaming away the hours 'till you were there with me.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
When we going back to Cottonwood Canyon
All my life I've been asking,
But you just talk about the bad times.
You just talk about the bad times.
You just live amongst those bad times.
*I can also see the song as a duet, with a female voice singing the last verse.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Affirmation from on High
I don't want to say much, but what I will say is it was pretty freaking cool. We managed to get "Hard to Swallow" into the hands of some folks who are supposed to know what our kind of music is all about. The kind of folks who are big enough that bands are super stoked when they get with them, and leave feeling controlled and reined in.
They took the time to call me, we chatted and I hung up feeling good. They aren't working with us but the response was more than encouraging. They proclaimed the record to be "well written", with a "great vibe", and "well recorded". Contact info was swapped and encouragement was laid thick like the guy who's repairing my leaking roof right now is hopefully doing.
Right now I feel this way, I'm sure it will change in time, but...
If nothing ever happens, if the band implodes, if life pulls us away from the path - at least my work (as the chief songwriter) and the hard work of the rest of the boys has be affirmed by at least one person who's supposed to know his shit. At least I can say that the hours and hours, the spilling of guts and the dollars spent were worth it to some extent. Whether anyone hears it or not, at least it "Could have been a contender". I mean, in this day and age who has the time to call some random bunch of hacks to blow smoke up their ass, right?
They took the time to call me, we chatted and I hung up feeling good. They aren't working with us but the response was more than encouraging. They proclaimed the record to be "well written", with a "great vibe", and "well recorded". Contact info was swapped and encouragement was laid thick like the guy who's repairing my leaking roof right now is hopefully doing.
Right now I feel this way, I'm sure it will change in time, but...
If nothing ever happens, if the band implodes, if life pulls us away from the path - at least my work (as the chief songwriter) and the hard work of the rest of the boys has be affirmed by at least one person who's supposed to know his shit. At least I can say that the hours and hours, the spilling of guts and the dollars spent were worth it to some extent. Whether anyone hears it or not, at least it "Could have been a contender". I mean, in this day and age who has the time to call some random bunch of hacks to blow smoke up their ass, right?
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
We All Brought It
Last Friday night we played the Waterfront. It was great to be back after a much too long hiatus. The place was packed and folks were really into it - dancing and hollering, singing along at times, and (would you believe it) actually listening. We had a blast, and it seemed like everyone there did as well. In a joint where the crowd can be in a constant flow, in and out on some nights, it was great to see groups of people staying through the whole show. It was also great to see so many folks (old friends and new) really digging it all and having such a good time. It's infectious, when a crowd brings it, when they're into it. It makes us play better, and it just makes the whole thing more fun for everyone. Thanks so much for all the kind words after the show, too!
After what's been a bit of a grind the last few months, it was great to get out (and get into it) and really deliver like the band can. The rhythm section tightened up to air tight as the night went on and allowed me to go where ever the hell I wanted... and it felt great.
Nights like these... they make you want to get after it again.
After what's been a bit of a grind the last few months, it was great to get out (and get into it) and really deliver like the band can. The rhythm section tightened up to air tight as the night went on and allowed me to go where ever the hell I wanted... and it felt great.
Nights like these... they make you want to get after it again.
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