After successfully screening a new batch of shirts with the help of the indubitably rad and helpful William of Recycled Rockstar and partaking of Kansas City's local vegan fare (a restaurant called FüD which, if you can tolerate the abysmal service, is really quite good), we headed for St. Louis. There, we killed the last few remaining minutes of free time trying before the show to go see the gateway arch in what was either a staggering display of poor navigation skills or a series of Mr. Bean like happenstances in which we were just being fucked with by some covert power. Either way, what should have been a 15 minute touristy pilgrimage turned into an hour and a half long endeavor that ended in, well... seeing the gateway arch up close for all of 3 minutes. Moving on.
The show was at Lemmons, a bar which the Elway blog enthusiast (should one exist?) might recall that we played an acoustic set at on our last tour. The show was well attended and we played alright and people bought some merch and things were generally good. Word to Bruiser Queen, The Winchester and Guy Morgan for putting on good sets. We were again provided with delicious pizza and a ridiculous amount of alcoholic beverages courtesy of Darren of The Haddonfields which that filled the overnight drive to Chicago with the sound of gross beer farts and the smell of... well, gross beer farts.
What's next? Chicago? Oh shit...
Ascending the stairs to super-friends Matt and Rachel’s apartment, our ears (and those of all other neighboring tenants likely asleep at 6:30am on a Saturday) were filled with the now all too familiar sound of Thin Lizzy’s “The Boys Are Back In Town.” It’s become something of a tradition between us and our Chicago besties, along with 7am beers and a general lack of responsibility for physical well-being or hygiene. A brief morning respite provided the much needed energy to power through what was certain to be a banner day for getting stupid shitty with awesome friends, and we headed for Atlas, where a similarly ragged Holy Mess slumbered after a late night of drinking with recording titan Matt Allison.
Joyously reunited in Episode IV post-death-star-destruction fashion, we Elways and The Holy Mess embarked on a daylong drinking and music sojourn. Backup vocals were recorded on The Holy Mess’ new record, Art of Pizza was again consumed in impressive quantities, and the Busch Light flowed like Coolio… like in his prime.
The show was our second outing at The Beat Kitchen. Everything about the evening’s festivities from the venue and staff to sets from local dudes Having Antlers and forever-buddies The Holy Mess to the amazing crowd and new friends made was a perfect testament to why we are so hopelessly smitten with the city of Chicago. If you were involved in anyway with the goings on of last night’s show, whether just coming out to the show, running sound like a G (Matt), promoting the show the way every promoter ought to (Toby Jeg), bringing us delicious vegan food (Katy), or serving up several rounds of shitty shamrock shake shots, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
Oh, and sorry if you were at all offended by the anti-irish commentary I may have slurred between oblivion-seeking gulps of booze. Not sorry because, you’re offended. Sorry because you’re irish. Moving on.
The night ended (for me anyhow) after tying on another metric shitload of Busch Light and hollering 90s alt rock covers into the warm Chicago night alongside Ramblin’ Roadshow companions Rob and Steve-o from The Mess. Glorious hangs in America’s finest city.