photo by Logan Jacobs
9.26: Chicago, IL—Quencher’s w/Bear Claw and the Ellie Maybe Experience
Fantastic first day. The drive was uneventful and a slew of buddies and pals were waiting for us in Chicago. Bear Claw are old friends of ours from their days in Carbondale, which they referenced onstage (“hey, remember when we played Bo Jr.’s in Carbondale and you threw your cymbal stand in the river?” Note: I was sick and that stand had been giving me shit, ok?). And Ellie Maybe and Dixie from WWC became fast friends at this year’s Steel Bridge Songfest in Sturgeon Bay, making the show just a big ol’ sick gross lovefest. Adding to the fun was the fact that the Brewers took game one of their season-ending series against the Cubs, putting the Crew a game up on the Mets for the NL Wild-Card. So obviously I needed to talk shit from the stage while proudly sporting a Milwaukee t-shirt.
We were also surprised by an appearance from the great Thax Douglas, Chicago poet about town and music scene mainstay. Thax is known for writing poems about rock bands and reading them before they play; the first time we met him was when he showed up at a show we played in Chicago in 2001 and asked to read a poem he wrote about us. Tonight he wanted to debut “IfIHadAHiFi #2” before our set, and obviously we obliged. Totally made my entire night.
The set itself was pretty furious—we slammed through a solid mix of old and new songs, plus threw in our cover of Killdozer’s “The Buzzard” to give Yale some mischief time in the audience. Response was great, we played well, and Yale stuck his head through White Wrench Thom’s shirt and carried him on his back. Good times.
Tonight got us off on the right track financially, too--$120 for us and the same for White Wrench, which we knew would be the most we’d make for the next two days.
After the show we made our way to Thom’s friend Mark’s place for late night wine and Mexican food. A certain adult-themed video in Mark’s possession entitled Bring Back the Pussy 8 has now fueled approximately three straight days of horrible n-stage banter and in-van jokery. It’s hard argue with packaging plastered with phrases like “whatever happened to good old-fashioned pussy fucking?” and “what about girls who don’t do anal? They need to work too!” With logic that difficult to refute, how can you go wrong?
Final Night 1 Tally:
Bottles of wine consumed between two bands: 4
Stories above ground Slater from WWC puked off of outside the apartment: 4
Number of “Bring Back the Pussy” jokes told: approximately 25
More to come soon!
