Greetings gang,
Spencer LeVon here whimsically gliding along the
Massachusetts Turnpike with my brothers, drained, clumsy, and dumb while at the
same time optimistic and ready for more. Last night was one of the crazier
nights I have encountered while touring. We just left the Sonic Pulse
headquarters, which is a house on a residential street in a town called
Framingham. We performed at a rowdy house party for the 4th of July
and shit got out of control immediately. Let me get back to that later, because
since last we spoke, we were barreling out of control towards the American
border with a fear of having our cavities searched.
Crossing the border into Vermont was actually as quick and
painless as I have ever encountered. With some luck, we got the only border
official with a sense of humor in the history of travel. Imagine Foghorn
Leghorn wearing rubber gloves. We had some playful banter with the guy, and the
only slight snag was when our roadie Sean had to prove his American citizenship
without having a US passport, during which time the border guard took the
opportunity to shuffle a pair of handcuffs in his hand like poker chips.
Despite this minor setback we were in and out in about 20 minutes, which was a
real treat. I may have gotten a tad too comfortable when he said “That will be
$24 for the 5 of ya, and you can be on your way.” “Make it $23 and you’ve got a
deal,” I confidently barked back to the visible horror of my bandmates. Why the
hell do I push my luck? We weren’t even in the country yet. He could and
probably should have violated our bungholes out of sheer principle.
Our first gig in the states was in Portland. We played with
one of my favorite bands Hessian and our new metal amigos Black Mass. We had an
absolute blast and ended up staying and partying late with a dude we befriended
last time we were in town named Kevin. He is an absolute lifer. A guy in his
late 40’s with more energy and passion for heavy metal than anyone I have ever
met. He thrilled us all night with his amazing music collection, notably a
super rare tape of Van Halen from before they made their first album. A
collection of demos as well as audio from Pasadena High School dances and sound
checks when the VH boys were in their late teens. We loved those recordings so
much that Kev gave us a copy.
The following day was Canada Day. We drove to our friend
Matt Tomasz from Seax’s hideaway in a cabin on a river in a rural area of Maine.
Apparently this was the river that the first priest was executed in during the
Salem witch trials. When we got there it was raining, and no one was home. We
let ourselves in and were greeted by 2 enormous dogs and some serenity. We
spent the entire day resting, playing chess and listening to Zappa records
while all of our friends back home were undoubtedly vomiting on each other in
the name of the great nation of Canada. I slept for 16 hours.
The following night we performed in Worcester at a bar
called Hotel Vernon. What a divine shithole that place is. It was a dive bar,
but for all the right reasons. Free peanuts, a piano, pool table and $1 draft
beers. The venue section of the bar looked as if it were the bowels of an old
wooden sailing ship. It was a fitting, because after overzealously consuming $1
beers, everyone in the bar developed a severe case of wobbly sea legs. Also,
after a full week of malnutrition, I think I may have the scurvy. I was very
impressed by the great and many talents of Seax, Black Mass and Skull Hammer.
AYE MATIES!
On to Providence, Rhode Island. We played at a very interesting
Gothic style bar in an industrial area. The whole place was decked out in
velvet and lit candle chandeliers. Mason said it best when he remarked that it
looked like “Dracula’s living room.”
That leads us into the bizarre and outrageous night that I had
mentioned in the first paragraph: the 4th of July house party at the
Sonic Pulse headquarters. The house was decked out with bands in the basement,
depraved partying all throughout the house and a BBQ pool party in the back
complete with women in bikinis having water gun fights and grown men in Speedos
playing a good natured game of grab ass. Did I mention there was some of the
more self-destructive daytime drinking I have ever witnessed? When we got to
play our set we were all already blasted out of our minds. I had the distinct
pleasure of wearing Dan Hammers headset microphone. I felt like Ted Nugent if
he wasn’t a right wing lunatic, but instead a clumsy Canadian with too many day
beers in his gut. What a night, man. We raged into the evening, until a group
of us decided to go for a midnight dip in a nearby reservoir, coupled with a
beautiful view of the stars in the Massachusetts night sky.
You need to see the pictures taken by our buddy and
roadie extraordinaire: Sean DeCory, because they are absolutely wild. All of the photos are now available on our new Flickr account. Also,
please check out the Fatality Podcast at www.fatality.podbean.com for more
excerpts of goofy storytelling and camaraderie form the road. God, I love this
life of mine. What makes it all the better is that I get to share it will all
of my friends coast to coast and be inspired by their fire, and then share that
same fire the next night with a whole roomful of likeminded others.
Positivitiy, sisters and brothers.
I love you,
Wicked show review of our CD release party in Toronto: http://www.metalmasterkingdom.com/fatality-psychonaut-cd-release-party.html
More Tour Photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/98333748@N04/
Tour Podcast: http://www.fatality.podbean.com
Badass, you guys live the life! The dues you are paying are paying off. This is real touring.
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