Warm Up Tour Re-Cap

"I didn't know a warm up tour meant no AC."


Phew.

Back in LA for the month of July. Last week we went out to explore the middle of the state and venture over to Nevada to get our new set properly warmed up and worked out for the July Spaceland Residency and the big tour in August. It was really exciting to work in the new songs into the set and solidify a real strong song order for the up-coming shows. For those of you who haven't made it out yet, we've changed things up a bit from last year, added some songs from the first two records we didn't play last year and of course we're playing the new songs from the EP. We're still gonna have some more surprises as the tour goes along, so definitely come out, bring your friends, and party down with us.


We also are really pleased to have Shon Sullivan from Goldenboy playing guitar with us on this tour. He's an amazing talent to have with us and we've really been enjoying having Goldenboy open the shows. Come early to see them!


Some of the highlights of the warm up tour included:


Eight of us marching on foot at midnight through what the venue's security guards called "the hood" in Fresno to get to the bars and nightlife after the show. "Ok, everyone look tough… especially you Lauren."


Sara jumping into the audience in Reno to dance with uber-fan Amanda during the guitar solo in "The Cruise."


Presumably inebriated college girl at the front of stage screaming "I wanna dance!!" in the quiet breakdown of "Sweetness and Tenderness" in San Luis Obispo.


Rachel giggling poolside after the Bakersfield show. "But it's an early 11:59"


Meeting Jim, Aurora, Dana and everyone else from Pollstar at the Fresno show.


Pretty much any comment that came out of our bus driver Jimmy's mouth. Too foul to repeat here.


Vegas. All of it.


After unloading the gear from the tour bus back at our rehearsal space Sunday morning, and starting to set up for rehearsals this coming week, Shon comes in and in his famously deadpan yet enthusiastic tone says "Are we gonna rehearse a few songs now? You know, just go over a few things?"


This amazing photo taken at a truckstop by our soundguy Mike:





two other things: a friend was side stage for the last show of the 2006 tour. he's got a good eye and grabbed some cool images. check it:


RockFotoMachen

and

keep those razors away from your upper lip: Super Summer Moustache Extravaganza!

until next time
ben

Pre Tour Blog by Lauren

Less than two weeks and we are on the road again. Even as I type this, I can't wait for all the excitement that the summer holds for us.

We've been rehearsing the set over and over, making changes here and there, then turning the whole thing on its head. As long as a Moog doesn't get sick and have to go to the synth-doctor, everything runs pretty smoothly. This time around, Shon Sullivan from Goldenboy is playing guitar with us. He is an amazing musician and likes curly cables better than straight ones!

I'm so excited to play the new songs on the EP. When we were working on "Last Little Life," I knew we were going to tour over the summer but only recently has it hit me how extensive this tour is going to be. I'm looking forward to be in cities that we weren't able to play last time around and meet new fans! Of course, it will be great to play shows again in New York, Chicago, Minneapolis and others.

Seven weeks is a long time to be living on a bus without your family (Hi Jeff!) and your kitties (Hi Turbo and Pinky!). Every day you wake up in a new city, load your gear in, do a sound check, wait to take a shower.... but what makes it all worth while is going up on stage. The crowd, no matter where you are, always makes you feel like you're at home. Every audience brings a fresh perspective to the songs and every city has certain memories attached to it (Chicago = my hometown = hot as hell :-)

I remember getting on the bus the first time last summer. Everyone hurried on to choose their bunk (bottom - loud, but most stable, middle - medium or top - not as loud, but rolling all over hell) and I took my time. I had to choose between a bottom or top bunk. I chose top, but drove everyone crazy the next hour asking, "Do you think I'm going to fall out?" Finally, Dan asked, "I don't know, do you fall out of your bed alot?" So, that answered that question. (The answer is no, by the way).

This summer, everyone is a little bit more comfortable on our second tour out. Sara has ordered a special "carry-on" bag from SkyMall that she can take with her into the clubs and hotel rooms. It has wheels and clear pouches for shampoo, conditioner, make-up, etc. You should totally ask her about it, she's been talking about it for about a year. No seriously, she will love to tell you about it.

I have decided that I will learn a new skill on every tour we go on. This tour, I will learn to juggle. I'm going to practice really hard and hopefully, by the last few shows, I will do a kick-ass juggling routine (and not drop anything). Oh man, I'm already getting nervous.

Anywho, I'm going to head out. I have to work on the opening of the set (top secret). I can not wait for everyone to hear "The Last Romantic Day," "A Little Bit of You in Everything," and "Life Without a Brain." I love you all and can't wait for you to see my new dance moves.

Til next time,

Lauren

Diary: Ben - Back in LA

2 pm Los Angeles Standard Time.  Why does it feel like 3 in the morning? Jet lag is a weird thing.  I’m always fine adjusting to weird time difference when I go somewhere far away to play shows.  The problem is when I get home.  I guess when you get to a place like Japan or Spain, you’re just so stoked to be somewhere else that there’s no need for sleep right away.  This time, the brutality of the flight back from Spain seemed more extreme than usual; having a long lay-over in Newark, and being able to see the NYC skyline but no way to get to it, stressing over luggage which didn’t seem to make it across the ocean with us, and then the general let down of a month-and-a-half tour finally being over, all made the day seem excruciatingly long.  (I think I counted about 26 hours in our day of travel, so maybe there’s truth to it)  Still, no matter.  As I sit here with a cup of coffee, looking out bleary-eyed from the downtown Los Angeles sky line, I can say we had a really successful tour and learned and experienced so much. 

Spain was righteous! There’s something really magical about being out in the countryside anywhere in Europe, but this was especially true in Spain.  The Sonorama Festival we played was in a place called Aranda De Duero (Duero is the river the city is situated on), which is just outside Madrid.  We were housed at a beautiful family-owned winery that also had a bed and breakfast type place attached.  Surrounded by vineyards and rolling Spainish hills, I thought I was ready to die.  The first day we were taken into town to get some food and we were greeted by throngs of beautiful Spanish women. Oh wait, I DID die! No, I’m kidding.  It was actually the opposite.  We arrived during siesta, so the town seemed as dead as could be. Some bars and restaurants were open, but most places were shut down like it was Santa Poco waiting for El Guapo to pillage the city for a plethora of piñatas.  We were worried! Where the hell were we?  Would any fun materialize?  No matter.  We took in some local food and beverage and then took our own siesta before going to the first night of the festival.  Since we were playing the second night, we had free reign of the festival grounds the first night, checking out cool Spanish bands, like Lori Myers and American favorites like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and OK Go.  And yes, the OK Go guys did their dance that they are now getting all that attention for on YouTube.  They also did an incredible version of “Don’t Bring Me Down” by ELO.   For most of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs set, we were cornered by some new Spanish friends practicing their English on us.  I think Y3 did their big radio hit, but things were getting foggy by that point….  It was so cold in the evening (in Spain in the summer?!?!?) that I had to borrow a hoody from Kyle (who had the forethought to bring two) and the girls bought Sonorama  festival hoodies so we could walk around all night in the cold.  Even though they fed us, we still thought it was a good idea to eat some festival pizza at like 2 in the morning, picking all the pepperoni off of Ms. Radle’s pizza (she’s vegetarian).  As Lauren was chomping down on the extra pepperoni, she ran into some tree or maybe it was a tree stump and still to this day has a bruise from it, which she STILL (day 4 since the accident) likes to show everyone at least twice a day.  I’m surprised she hasn’t sent me a PIX message as a daily update now that we’re separated by a few Los Angeles neighborhoods. 

Day Two was amazing. We had an early morning sound check, which was challenging for all kinds of reasons.  Language barriers are always fun when you’re trying to explain why your monitor does not sound good.  Don’t get the wrong idea though, the crew and promoters were so nice and accommodating and just generally rad that we had a great time for the whole festival.  Done by noon, we splintered off into two factions: the fun group and the sleeping group.  Ok, so some people needed rest. I’m all down for that if that’s what they needed, but for some of us, we felt the need to explore the sleepy town we missed most of the day before.  Man did we luck out.  It’s a Saturday. Everyone is out and about.  There’s a street fair with clothes, souvenirs, vegetables, etc etc.  I grab a souvenir or two, Ryen grabs some socks, because he ended up coming to Spain without suitcase (funny story, ask him…) and then we high tail it for an awesome local bar where you can get some fine tapas of all varieties and good Spanish beer for very cheap. We make friends with the bar owner and he buys us a round of San Miguel.  Good times. Not only are all the locals out shopping and having a nice Saturday afternoon jaunt in the city center, but we also notice a lot of people with wristbands from the festival.  All these people are just partying in the streets, having a blast, passing the time until the festival begins. We can tell the party is ON…and it’s only probably 1 or 2 o’clock.  We keep moving around the city center, checking out the locale.  The great thing about a town this small is that there were no starbucks, no mcdonalds, or none of those American atrocities that are peppered all over the bigger European cities.  This was old world Spain, and we were loving it.  We stumbled upon the old town church which was like from the 15^th century.  We went in and in very broken Spanish started talking to one of the old guys in the church about the church organ (No it’s not a Moog!)   It turns out that he had been the organist for like 40 years and after a little cajoling, he played for us and so we got to hear this cool old church organ. When we left we darted across the street to another bar and ended up getting recognized by some of the festival goers.  They bought us drinks and we sat on the steps of the church we had just visited an hour ago….drinking.  Classic.  When in Rome… I suppose. 

Damn it if we didn’t need a siesta before the show.  I guess I get it now.  You work or party during the day, take a siesta, and then party again until 4 or 5 in the morning.  No wonder Matt likes this place so much!  

The show was great but somewhat chaotic, cut short for reasons beyond our control.  As we were plowing along, matt was slashing and burning songs from the set list left and right like it was a South American rain forest.  It had to be done though, so it was all good.  We had a great time and Matt was just on fire, running around and shouting his very fluent Spanish vocabulary around like a man with a mission.  It was nice to see our new friends from earlier hanging out right up front cheering us on.  They were still nice to us afterwards, even though part of our slash and burn procedure cut the one song I promised them we’d play.  The Spanish are so laid back!

After the show there were more bands to see, more…um… fun to be had, and more greasy pizza to devour.  At some point we just had to pack up and run for the hills, because we had a full day of raising hell in the big city on day 3. 

Madrid was pretty much the opposite of the cute little town we played in, but all in a great way.  Huge, big, thriving city.  So fucking alive.  The architecture reminded me a lot of parts of Vienna.  In the end though, I guess we really did all the same things we did in Aranda, but this time we were surrounded by a more diverse scenery including hookers, homeless friends, and way more tourists.  Sitting at a street café, bar, or whatever it was, we were doing what did best: tapas and beer.  We were approached by some guy asking for money (or at least that what we thought he was going on about, as our Spanish is “how you say? Not-a so good-a”).  We tried to get rid of him, telling him we didn’t understand or whatever, and he started screaming at us in Spanish.  Not that we’re ok with getting screamed at by a stranger usually, but everything was ok until we recognized some “rude words” in between the unintelligibles.  We kind of started calling him on it and ended up in a rather strange scene.  The local policia showed up and we explained that this guy called Lauren a word I won’t repeat here.  They asked if we wanted to press charges, which we thought was a little weird so we said no and went along with our adventures.  We did laugh about it later and chalked it up to some kooky guy on the street, but we surely thought it was the end of the story…. 

Nope. 

Later that night, after our little siesta, we reconvene the party in Dan’s and my room. With the french doors opened onto our little balcony that overlooks the street below, we hang for a while to plot our next adventure in the big city.  Suddenly Lauren gets a look in her eye and is convinced the homeless kook is downstairs.  She recognizes his screaming!  Sure enough we look down and the guy is getting into some fight with someone AGAIN!  Man, this guy needs to chill.  We watch again as the Policia show up and take the guy away this time.  The Strange and Unusual had followed us around once again.  Later that night over dinner and some wine, we decided that this man must have come down with what we coined as I.H.S. (Irritable Hobo Syndrome).  We felt bad for the guy, and I.H.S. is no laughing matter, but it’s still a funny story. 

So as the story goes, we’re all happy to be home and I think everyone feels a great sense of accomplishment for all that we were able to do on this tour together.  I really felt the band grow musically on this tour.  All the prep in the world (and believe me, we prepped a TON before we began this journey) only gets you so far.  There’s nothing like playing shows every night in front of awesome crowds that gets your band playing better than ever.  After all the initial excitement of the first few shows, we really began to settle into our music-making process while still keeping the party going on stage.  All the shows were special and weird at the same time, for all kinds of different reasons.  If a show wasn’t one of the hottest nights we’d ever experienced in our lives (Chicago), it was the craziest crowd we’d ever played to (Salt Lake City).  Some nights none of the machines on stage that we like to call musical instruments would work right (Atlanta), and sometimes they would propel me into some kind of euphoric frenzy because their personality would burst through the faders and knobs in just the right way (Anaheim).  

We met so many great people, met up with old friends, some of which were on tour with their own bands, some of which were just out to celebrate with us.  For me it was great to find my good friends from The Coral Sea in NYC the same night as us.  Although we didn’t get to see each other’s shows, we partied together afterwards somewhere in the village at what seemed like the smallest bar ever.  I used to play music with most of the guys in that band, but we never got outside of California on tour, so it was a great feeling to all be in a strange and far away city, all of us doing what we’ve always wanted to.  Good times.  

It seemed like “family” was a big deal on this tour.  Lauren’s parents almost made dead-head status by coming to so many shows that we were getting ready to offer them a few sleeping spaces on the bus.  They were so enthusiastic and funny and great to hang with.  We also got to meet Dan’s family, Sara’s family and even Matt’s mom.  For some reason family resemblances still trip me out.  I can basically look at my friends’ parents now and see what The Rentals will all look like when we’re doing our 30^th anniversary tour down the line.  (Oh how will we keep the Moogs alive that long….?)  We even met our extended Rentals family along the way as well.  Meeting the people who made our jobs possible in the first place, like Rod and Kevin was a really great experience.  Meeting Jim was especially cool for me, as there would probably be no trombone playing during the current set if it wasn’t for him.  But it’s especially cool to have met all the people who came to see the show and hung out with us afterwards. We wouldn’t be able to do any of this without all you great guys and gals that came out and jumped around with us.  We’re happy to call all of you family.  

…I guess the jetlag is making me sentimental… 

As promised here are a few more PJ pictures.  The first is in Minneapolis at the Mary Tyler Moore statue (my mom would be so proud!).  The second is the one and only time I’ve ever worn the PJs on stage.  I think it was Tempe, but I’m not really sure as I must have been sleep walking so I don’t really remember. 

See you all next time around! 

Diary: Sara - week two

It’s 11am.  Everyone is still asleep, with the exception of Ryen and I, who are sitting here watching Touching the Void as the bus rolls on to our next stop – Norfolk, Virginia.  Well, I’d say Ryen is more into the movie than I am.  I’m enjoying looking out the window, taking in the sights of the open road.

Most of my touring experience, up to this point, has been of the punk rock, DIY variety – a group of musicians traveling and sleeping in a van, playing shows I booked in seedy clubs and people’s basements (and the occasional great show in a nice venue that makes you wonder “How did we luck out with this gig?”), taking turns driving, and feeling more like we were on a Grizwald family vacation than a tour in which we were productive in promoting our music.  But, by golly, it sure was fun!

Well, as you can probably imagine, this tour is a little different from those days.  Of course it’s still a blast, but many things are different.  For one, this is my first bus tour.  My, how easy it is when you don’t need to worry about taking a driving shift!  We do most of our driving at night, so most of our sleeping is done on the bus.  We retreat to our bunks after most shows, and wake up the next morning parked outside a new venue in the next city.  Voila!  Although we gave Matt a hard time for making the comparison in an interview in , I think he was right when he said it is a little like that movie Groundhog Day, where the lead character experiences the same day over and over.  Everyday we wake up, load in, set up our stuff, wait around for sound check to start, snack on hummus or veggies or whatever treats we have waiting in the greenroom, sound check, go somewhere to check email (or, as Lauren and I do, check the daily updates on StuffOnMyCat.com) if the club doesn’t have wireless, and go to the hotel to shower and get dolled up for the show.  When we return to the club, it’s usually time for the doors to open, and Ozma is soon to follow.  This is the point in each evening where it stops feeling like that Bill Murray movie.  Every night brings a new city, a new venue, a new crowd of people to play in front of.

I’ll pick up where Ben left off – Minneapolis.  Needless to say, I had the that dog! song of the same name stuck in my head that day.  “So he said he’d write or call, ‘cause I’ll be touring in the fall…” played in my head over and over all day, occupying the part of my brain that is usually reserved for looping Star’s flute part in that one Ozma song with the Japanese title.  We played in Minneapolis on Dan’s birthday.  The previous day, Lauren and I bought some balloons, streamers, a card, and a birthday pin at Walmart.  While Dan began his sound check, we went out to the bus and decorated his bunk.  Then we had everyone sign the card, gave him the “Birthday Boy” pin, and made him wear it all night.  As Ben mentioned, we played at First Avenue, probably most famously known for being in Purple Rain.  Great club with awesome sound.  I remember the Pro One synth was on a crazy setting that night, and it made the beginning of Jumping Around sound a little funny.  I figured it out by the first chorus, though, so I was relieved.    Someone threw a hat up on stage when we returned for our encore, and I wore it for the final two songs.  When we left the stage, I threw it back to the person I assumed was it’s owner, but I have no way of knowing if it got back to the proper person.  So if you are a hatless person in Minneapolis because I mistakenly gave your hat to someone else… um, sorry about that.

I remember thinking that Minneapolis was a pretty sweaty show.  Little did I know…  None of us were prepared for the heat that Chicago’s show would bring.  The Double Door didn’t seem uncomfortable at load-in.  Flash forward a few hours and a few hundred people later, and the stage pretty much became a Rentals wet t-shirt contest in front of a sold-out crowd.  It was so hot and humid, I felt like I was breathing in moisture.  Aside from that, it was actually a fun show.  Lauren is from Chicago, and a lot of her family was there.  Her father’s friend brought a giant tub of Garrett’s Popcorn that we still have on the bus.  It’s proven to be the perfect after show drunk snack.  Dan had family at the show, as well.  His parents joined Lauren’s dad onstage for a dance party during Friends of P.  Dan and Matt took off their shirts towards the end, followed by Rachel.  (Don’t get too excited.  She had a tank top on underneath.)  As crazy hot as it was, I was amazed that we got through the set without fainting and actually had a good time.

The next night was a completely different vibe.  The Pabst Theater in Milwaukee definitely wins the prize for most beautiful venue so far.  Playing there made me think of those old rock and roll tours in the 50s, where bands would tour together and play in old theaters across the country.  I asked someone at the club if Marquette University was nearby.  He said it was “about 26 blocks east”, which I thought was kind of funny.  I was curious because that’s where my parents met, my mom responding to a posted ad for a folk music group.  I should also mention that my neck was a little sore that morning.  I have this recurring neck/shoulder thing that I should really get looked at.  When this happens, I say I’m in Batman mode, because I have to turn my shoulders if I want to look to either side of me, unable to turn my head at the neck.   Anyway, I was in a bit of pain during the show, but I didn’t want to look so stiff, so I tried to move around like I normally do and make it look natural.  Well, turns out that wasn’t such a hot idea.

The following morning I woke up and tried to get out of my bunk.  I turned my body, only to feel like I was being stabbed in the neck.  I reached for my cell phone to try to get someone to help me, but it was too painful to lift my arm.  After a while, Lauren and Ben entered the bunk area of the bus and found me.  Ben went to get me some Icy Hot and Aleve from the Kmart next door, and Lauren handed me my phone so I could call Matt.  She also kept me company because she is the bestest friend ever.  (That last sentence was in no way contributed by Lauren.  Nope.  Not one bit.)  When Matt arrived, he relieved the two of them and helped me get out of my bunk and into the hotel room when the meds finally kicked in.  I was glad we had the day off.  Ben helped change out the hot towels the doctor suggested I keep on my shoulder, and he and Lauren and I rented Groundhog Day (how could we not?) from the front desk.  By the time we were due back at the bus that night, I was already beginning to feel a lot better.

We found ourselves at a sold-out Irving Plaza in New York the next night.  What a fun show!  Matt and Rachel and I joined Ozma during their set and sang California together.  As my neck was feeling a lot better, Lauren and I came up with some interesting dance moves during our set.  Kevin, a friend of Matt’s who played drums on Seven More Minutes and was in Guided By Voices, joined us onstage at the end of the show.  Lauren and I brought up someone from the audience after admiring his dance moves from the stage right synth station.  After the show, we went out for drinks, which resulted in Dan running around the bus in only his underoos at the end of the night.

After a late night in New York, we had to load in at the 9:30 Club in Washington D.C. at 10am.  As you can imagine, we were all a little beat.  The early load-in time was due to the fact that there were two separate shows at the club that day.  We were the late show.  The earlier one was Michelle Branch’s new project – The Wreckers.  As I was checking my email in the greenroom, I heard their bass player play a Fugazi riff during their sound check.  When in D.C… A few technical difficulties aside, we had another fun show and got to meet a lot of people after our set.  Many of them even said they were going to make the drive to our show today, as well.  How swell!

So, getting back to the present, sitting here on the bus, looking out the window…  Several things go through my head.  What kind if trees are those?  When can I get in another good round of phone Tetris with Kyle?  How much longer until we reach Norfolk?  Should I wash my hair today?  When was the last time I went on a road trip?  Ah, yes.  I remember.  It was last June, when I packed all I could fit in and on top of my little car (including two guitars, a keyboard, and three cats), left the Lone Star State, and headed West to help my friend get his old band back up and running.  Now, a little over a year later, we’re actually doing it… and I wouldn’t be anywhere else.

Now it is time for me to sign off and get out of my PJs.  I just want to add that the support and enthusiasm that we’ve been shown on the road is so overwhelming.  It’s nice to know that there are so many awesome people coming out, dancing around and singing along.  A special thanks to all of the people on the street team, as well.  Know that you are definitely appreciated.  As Ben said, we’ve enjoyed meeting so many of you, and we look forward to meeting more.  So feel free to come over and shoot the breeze with the band after the shows.  Don’t be shy.

10-4.        Over and out.

*Sara*

Diary: Ben - Week One

One Week Down. Man, I love touring.  There’s something about traveling around and playing shows and meeting people and eating weird food that makes me really happy.  We’ve been going for what seems like three weeks (including the shows) and everyday is a new adventure.  The strange and unusual is always just around the corner from all of us, but somehow touring really accentuates that for me.  Maybe I seek it out. Ok, I DEFINITELY seek it out.  It’s just so easy to find.  Sometimes it happens during a show, sometimes during lunch, sometimes just walking down the street you find the strangest things.  And sometimes, for me anyway, I am the strange and unusual.  Once you tap into that, the strange and unusual just pops up everywhere.  I guess it’s perspective.  Our second day was a day off.  Yes, after ONE rocking show in San Francisco, The Rentals desperately needed a day off.  The next show was to be in Seattle, so our halfway point was somewhere up in Oregon.  Lovely Grants Pass, Oregon.  Instead of staying in some bland Motel 6 or something, we get to stay at this cool hippy resort-type place on a river where people are floating down in rafts and inner tubes.  Weird coincidences are everywhere.  The inner tube that is provided to us from the place is a Yokohama Tire.  We just came from Yokohama.  But what’s really funny is that river we’re hanging out next to is called The Rogue.  Now if you’re down with the Moog synthesizer, you’ll see the humor in the fact that The Rentals are staying on a river with the name sake of the keyboard we use.  I felt it would be good juju to get our Rogue out of its flight case and let it breathe in the fresh air and take in the river’s vibe.  It would be a good tour.  Bob Moog, who loved nature as much as he did circuit boards, would have been proud.

It’s all very idyllic.  Sara sleeping in the hammock under a tree, Matt and Kyle throwing the frisbee, Ryen reading a book on the porch overlooking the river, and Dan and Rachel doing their workout routines in the air conditioned room, I decide it’s time to shake things up a bit and go for a shave.  Bored halfway through I just decide to leave the left side of my face unshaven.  I come back outside to join in a game of horseshoes (Me and Matt against Kyle and Dan) and people start looking at me funny.  I think my band mates expect it from me at this point, I mean just the night before I was walking around San Francisco in my pjs after the show, but the locals just don’t know what to think. I do my best to have a serious conversation about The Ramones with the owner of the hotel, who is trying his hardest not to look perplexed.  Later we walk into “town” to find a beer and some bar-b-que.  The owner has informed us it’s a half a mile down the street.  We have to walk, because the tour bus does not move once it is parked.  It’s the hottest day of the year (seems like anyway).  After near heat exhaustion we make it to the place and reward ourselves the finest they have to offer: Coors Light.  On our way back we see a sign “You should stop here, because this is a very unique place.”  Of course we stop.  It’s this beautiful garden nursery type thing with a doll house that apparently can sleep three real people.  There are chickens running around.  Where ARE we?  The nice old lady who owned the place came right up to us and started telling us all about the place.  Apparently because of some health problems, she’s having to sell the place.  It’s gonna be torn down to make room for boring condos that will probably look like every other condo you’ve ever seen.  I guess the “this is a unique place” sign will have to go as well.  Say goodbye to real hometown , and hello to corporate homogeneity.  Sad really.  As I was talking to her about some of poppy seed plant, I realized again that I still had my half shaven face. 

The next day we wake up at the venue in Seattle.  It’s nice traveling in a tour bus, because all the driving is done while you sleep.  If you can sleep.  It’s weird laying in something about the size of a coffin, especially because you’re stacked three high like a mortuary or something.  We seem to be developing theories of whether the highest or lowest bunks are easier to sleep in.  Also it seems that our bus driver likes to run over the little bumps on the right side of the road that warn you that you might be falling asleep. Great! So the right side bunks are a little more adventurous. I’m totally sticking to the lowest bunk on the left side.  I like hearing the wheels turning on the road, plus if I fall out of my bunk it’s just the floor.  Lauren is always afraid of falling out of the top bunk. One night she jumped out of her bunk screaming expletives.  We were leaving really late like 4 am or something, so everyone had already gone to bed.  When the bus started moving, she freaked out cause she thought people were outside trying to push the bus over.  This was a funny moment.  The show that night (in Salt Lake City) was completely psychotic and amazing.  People were singing along and dancing and just going crazy.  The club had an early curfew because after our show the place turned into some kind of raging disco night.  This information was relayed to me by this no-eyebrows female impersonator dude, who was running the club.  I thought I’d offer my black sharpie to him, but I thought he might be offended.  Anyway, so we squeezed our hour and forty minute set into about an hour fifteen, but then had no time afterwards to hang and sign posters and stuff.  So everyone kind of hung out outside the club by our bus.  We were loading our stuff out and signing stuff and talking to everyone.  Once a lot of them left, the “new” crowd started hanging around, rather drunk and having a good time.  I had left already to hang with some new friends, but the others stayed on the bus, watching Spinal Tap (Lauren had never seen it!).  Apparently people were trying to get on the bus to use the bathroom or whatever, but I guess it got a little weird cause people kept knocking especially after 2 am when the club closed.  So when Lauren felt the bus start moving she was sure we were being overtaken by rioting clubsters!  It was pretty funny at the time.  The sleep thing is funny, because when you have 9 people all together, they can all have different experiences.  I sleep pretty hard and I’m usually out most of the night.  One night I was in so deep that the border patrol people had to come and drag me out in the middle of the night.  We were coming back to the States from our Vancouver show and after enough jack and cokes, I can pass out like a baby and never wake up for many many hours.  At some point, probably only an hour after the bus departed, we got to the border.  Jenny, our tour manager, went through the bunks and attempted to wake everyone up.  I however never heard a thing and continued to sleep.  I guess everyone was getting checked out individually while I was still in slumbersville.  They were even going on the website to see who was in the band.  We had some funny business cause we brought some of ozma on the bus with this that night. But everything worked out alright, except they hadn’t seen me.  So finally Rachel of all people runs back onto the bus with one of the border guys, rips open my curtain and in this funny panic-y voice says “BEN YOU GOTTA GET UP, WE’RE AT THE BORDER!” I just woke up and screamed, almost hitting my head on the bunk.  Then I was awake for sure.  I think the border guys thought I was crazy, cause I come out in my pjs singing “I’m Dreaming Of A White Christmas.”  I’m surprised they didn’t give me a drug test or something.

The pjs thing is kinda funny, cause I’ve found myself walking around town in them, especially right after we pull into town or after we shower at the club at night.  This happened in Seattle (see, I knew I could get back on track with this story!).  Kyle also finds this very funny, so he generally documents these occurrences as much as possible.  He took this first picture from the Mexican restaurant across from the venue in Seattle.  I think my goal for this tour will be taking photos at famous monuments around the country in my pjs and slippers.  This second picture is somewhere in Iowa on our day off.  We were staying in some weirdo hotel with a castle-like façade and a knight on a horse.  Eccentric? Maybe.  Strange and Unusual? Definitely!

Hope to see you all at some shows.  Come say hello.  We’ll be writing more soon!

Ben

Diary: Walking With A Ghost (The Rentals Remix) 05-07-06

I was driving alone making my way from coast to coast, from east to west, after wrapping up one of my first solo acoustic tours of this gold old US of A. While I was slowly slipping and sliding across the icy landscape of the Northern Texas Interstate I-40 there were just a few unheard CDs laying there riding shotgun.

One of those cellophane wrapped discs was a Canadian sister singing duo named "Tegan And Sara". Their album "If It Was You” broke my long trip's silence. The album's celebratory opener "Time Running" started off the soundtrack to all the endless miles of pavement that lay ahead. As the record unfolded the song "Not Tonight" revealed itself and resonated with me emotionally. The music struck a chord and brought forward a new sense of optimism to what you might call, more or less, my more introspective days. I kept "If It Was You" in constant rotation with "Not Tonight" often set on repeat. These ten songs and the inspirational feeling I derived kept me company until of the last remaining hours of my journey thrust me back into the cluttered highways of Los Angeles.

Shortly after arriving home an old friend of mine asked if I would perform a concert to benefit someone close to him who had fallen on hard times. In turn, I reached out to my old friend Maya Ruldolph and asked for her to join me to lend a hand in this good cause.  

Having only a few days to prepare Maya and I chose an assortment of songs from our days of performing together in the "Return Of The Rentals” era. The evening also gave us a chance to tell some old road stories and perform a hand full of cover songs including a semi-improvised version of "Not Tonight". My fondest memories of the evening came at the show's conclusion. With a bit of my encouragement and at the crowd's insistence Maya also shared some of her now famous impressions of some well known ladies of song. If memory serves me there was a little Gwen, a little Alanis and a little Macy Gray thrown in for good measure bringing a sense of levity to serious nature of the concert. 

I’ve probably told this story too many times, but I don’t really care. I’m going to tell it one more time just so it’s here safe and sound in this diary. 

I remember having such a difficult time trying to figure out “Not Tonight”. From the outside it seemed like such a sweet and simple little lullaby, but for the life of me I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Was it in alternative tuning? What was going on in the bridge? and so on. So many questions, I didn’t have the answers then and I still really don’t know to this day.  

Truth be told, I’ve never been much use trying to figure out other people’s songs. What’s going on inside all those elusive chord progressions and crazy de-tunings? 

I guess we are married to the mystery.

And people wonder why it takes me three years to complete a full album.  

Hell. It’s taking me three years just to write this diary entry. 

Either way I just couldn’t let go of the song, it was just there with me looping in my internal playback. So I put a call into the man who’d got me into this mess in the first place. Saint B. is who I call the patron to the musically and theoretically challenged and he just happened to be a mutual friend of Miss Sara Quin and yours truly. 

I asked him if there was a way to obtain Sara’s e-mail and phone number. Access to the former was granted, but to the latter denied. So, I approached Sara through the digital landscape, first, as a fan and second, as a student.  

My new found teacher tried multiple ways to try and assist me with simple numbers, easy steps and stick figure drawings. After several unsuccessful attempts I was at my wits end. Frustrated with my own incompetence, I finally fell to my knees and begged Sara for her 411, but once again access was denied. It took me awhile to grasp a real understanding of my teacher’s hesitation, but then it finally dawned on me “she thinks I’m stalking her!” she thinks, “Oh great, now I have this creepy, dirty old moog man stalking me!” In fact, she probably called our mutual friend and patron for the fundamentally challenged and said “what in God’s name have you set upon me!” 
 
 So, this is what it’s come to folks, yours truly, a dirty old new wave stalker. Fantastic, I’ve probably been reported.

And if, for some odd reason I ever decide to pack up and move to Montreal I will probably be given a restraining order and I’ll have to register with those French speaking policeman.  

“Yes that’s right officer, that’s me, Matt Sharp   …New Wave Stalker.” ?No me comprehendes?  …well, bonjour!

et excusem wa!   …qui, qui, …em, “Stalker Nouvelle Vague” …No? …no, no, no …”no Stalker Rogue Vague”      

”Stalker Nouvelle Vague!” 

What now? What could I do? The only thing I could do, I guess, I lied. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth. I backed off and told Sara “in our last online lesson I had what you could call a moment of clarity. I think I’ve got it covered now, I said. Thank you for your patience. I’ll be of no bother to you anymore.” In reality, I was more or less in the same place as I was when I started, but, I took what I could from Sara’s rough digital etchings and went on my way. 

Remember, I wasn’t stalking her. I mean even if I was, who could blame you really?. I mean if you are going to stalk someone …listen, all I’m saying is “all those great songs, the cool hair and throw in the suave striped shirts”   

But, it was pointless. So, I marched on, in my own “creepy” way.  

Shortly after, I got together with Maya again now with the idea of recording “Not Tonight” and Maya pulled me aside and frankly asked “so kid, tell me, what’s the deal? are you stalking this girl?” I mean, sometimes, even your closest friends don’t get it. You know what I’m saying? When I told her that “no, I’m not stalking her, I don’t even know her!” I don’t think Maya believed me, but she rolled with it anyway. I guess that’s what friends are for. 

We recorded our version of Sara’s song real quick, wham, bam, thank you mammy style. We recorded a whole mess of tracks with our old friend Danny Frankel on drums in the kitchen of Mr. Jah-Mez-Saez in less than a half day. After that I didn’t have a whole lot to do with it. Jah-Mez just threw a quick “best of” rough mix together real fast like and that was it, over and done. 

I was never really satisfied with the end result, but it was, what it was. It was an excuse to work with Maya, Danny and Jah-Mez. It was also my way of saying thank you to someone that had somehow lifted an intangible weight off my shoulders. It was a three minute and twelve second postcard sent to someone I’d never even met. It was just to say “thanks lady, you don’t know me, but thanks a bunch”. 

By the time my postcard reached it’s destination I was already back on the road.  

With Michael (my tour manager at the time) at the helm, pedal to the metal in a Winnebago called “The 4 Winds”. We ripped past the Canadian border crossing straight on to my northern most solo engagement in Montreal. By now, I had somehow obtained those elusive digits that led to Miss Sara Quin. A lot of time had passed and it’s possible her early suspicions had eased up a bit, but there was still a slight sense of hesitation in her voice coupled with my general awkwardness that comes when I’m speaking on the phone with a stranger that I admire. 

When we handed in our guest list for the evenings show it had just one name, Sara plus one.  

Oh well, I was a little embarrassed because the club was quite big and the crowd was quite small. It was just one of those nights where the majority of the audience could all fit up on the stage with me and the rest of the venue just seemed to disappear into the back round. There was always a duality in those nights, one part warm and cozy and the other part just plain haunting. I can distinctly remember being a little nervous that night and that is odd, because I’m rarely nervous. When I am a little self conscious like that I usually revert to telling long stories in that gruff, road weary Kris Kristopherson type voice I sometimes try to put on now and again.  

Did I have the nerve to play Sara’s pretty song in that fake, sandpapery, child molester-ish voice of mine?  

I believe so and all with the lady herself sitting on the stage just a few feet away.  

We got a good long moment to mingle after the show. We were hanging in that empty cavernous club which was kind of tragic even with its dash of European style. We were all just hanging there in the remnants of another slow night.  

I must say I recall Sara being cool as a cucumber, you could just tell, this girl’s been stalked before, it’s really no big deal to her. It’s not the first time and probably won’t be the last. It just comes with the great songs, cool hair and striped shirts.

Sara was disarming and sweet and chatty and all of those things, but you could see on the outside corner of her eye a questioning glance. “What’s going on here?, she asks herself.” More questions pass through her mind like, “What’s up with Michael’s chest hair?, Shouldn’t he button up his shirt a few notches?, Isn’t that a little sleazy?, Has Matt gained a lot of weight since the weezer days or what? (I don’t know, but he should shave), is Matt going to keep sending me cover versions of my own songs? (that would be creepy), is this ever going to happen to me?, will I ever let myself go like this?, will ever I not shave my legs and armpits for awhile and end up playing music in an empty club like this? (wouldn’t that be sad), where I am I going to be ten years from now?, will Tegan and I still be playing together?, will we both be unshaven, lonely and sad?, didn’t this guy used to wear funny suits, have big glasses and play keyboards?  

These are some of the thoughts I imagined were racing through Sara’s rapid fire mind. Maybe, it’s all imagined and maybe it was not. Whatever the case may be I remember the evening fading effortlessly. 

Much to my surprise, somewhere down the line the fine ladies that are T&S graciously asked me to be a part of the final weeks of their "If It Was You Tour".  

Sara!   …do I have any of this right?      …I don’t think I do     …didn’t we play together in LA once first? 

Twice?   …three times a lady.         …or was that afterwards?     …no, it was before.     …whatever 

I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter. All I know is, God damn, I loved that album.  

So on November 3rd 2003 (so someone in the other room tells me) with an acoustic guitar in one hand and an old moog source in the other I made my way to the sub-zero frozen tundra that is Montreal in wintertime. Along the way, from Nashville to Montreal, we would pull over into lots of those Flying J Truck Stops and I would plug in my funny looking synthesizer and practice to the album over the speakers in the dinning room.  

We finally let the “4 Winds” settle down and take a well deserved rest just a few blocks down the way from Sara’s old apartment. Montreal is like a frozen Paris in the winter time, like the Champs Elyses in an ice cube and the Winnebago was our two bedroom popsicle. At night the wind would shake our trusty vehicle like it was a miniature RV in one of those cheap semi-oval Christmas ornaments that would sit on the mantle piece of my childhood. When I would lay my head down in the master’s quarters at night I would think of all the things in this life that had to happen for me to land in a frozen Winnebago in some random church parking lot. 

My first impressions of working with Tegan and Sara are a little distant and out of reach in my memory now. I can remember trying to let them know that I was no moog master, but they just didn’t seem to care. As long as my moog skills could match their glockenspiel skills I was going to be alright and I was. We had a good few days of the calm before the storm of their last van tour. We tried a few different things. We briefly reversed the student teacher rolls and tried to work out an old school version of “Friends OF P.” that their band would’ve played (and went …um, nah). I maybe a poor student, but I’m a worse teacher. 

Am I rambling? Alright, O.K.   ..I’ll think concise. Like I’ve said before, the girls were incredibly generous. The girls and everyone in their crew did everything they could to make “Old Man Buddy Holly” feel right at home. They introduced my solo set and joined me for a couple songs here and there. They let me get my moog on during their show. I remember that “Terrible Storm”, “Don’t Confess”, “Everything” and “You Wouldn’t Like Me” were a few of the highlights for me personally. Canada was cold (wait I already said that). We all got the flu, but we all made it out alive and I even took a few photos along the way for the scrapbook back home. 

Here are some photos taken from that tour by your friendly neighborhood new wave stalker man.

I later went on to record early sketches of a song penned by Tegan titled "When I Get Up" (a song we performed each evening together and I continued to play on my own on the few solo dates following the T&S tour). The initial intent of the recording was to pay homage to the girls by possibly releasing "When I Get Up" alongside of a real mix of "Not Tonight" as a seven inch single, but, with neither song getting the finishing touches they deserved and prior commitments slowly taking over life's itinerary the idea for the single was eventually scrapped. 

Walking With A Ghost was one of the first song ideas the girls had sent me when they asked if I’d be interested in recording on their new album “So Jealous”. Of course I was extremely flattered when they asked me if I could try and contribute. My only reservation was in my own abilities to add to the album in a meaningful way as a role player. This reservation of mine was put to rest after receiving the first few song ideas they had sent me. Straight away I had a concrete idea of how I wanted to approach “I Know, I Know, I Know” and “Walking With A Ghost”. The rest of the album I wasn’t so sure about, but at least I found a place to start from.

The day I received Sara’s home recording of “Walking With A Ghost” I ran straight to my friend Jack at Future Music and tried to describe for him the sound I was looking for. Jack always has the answers for everything. He put in my hands this old Elka Italian synthesizer. The Elka was used on all those Tangerine Dream and Eurythmics records. As usual Jack found the solution for my innermost atmospheric and sonic desires. I prepped for So Jealous by recording my ideas into my handheld cassette recorder. Late at night I would take short drives on the 2 freeway heading towards Pasadena. I would drive until I became intoxicated by the distorted sound of the one inch speaker on my lo-fidelity tape machine.

Arts and crafts and protest signs were scattered through Sara’s kitchen, protesting what I don’t remember, probably George Bush and his poor grammar. I slept on Sara’s couch and recorded keyboards for 12 songs in two days in exchange for a few charitable hours of advice and therapy. Tegan and Sara would try and share their relationship wisdom with me until one of the sisters would eventually crack the whip and send me back to work. 

I am very proud of the work we did together on So Jealous. The mood and tone of that record shows a bold desire by the girls to continually evolve and I’m proud to, in some small way, have been apart of that evolution. 

While Walking With A Ghost was enjoying success on America’s FM airwaves a reoccurring idea of doing a more synth heavy version of the song kept me up at night. Although, I am proud of the original version that made it to the album I always have had this desire to recapture that feeling I had experienced while driving on the 2 Freeway traveling northbound. 

A few months on down the line at the Coachella Arts festival I delivered the band a remix of “Walking With A Ghost”. Even though I don’t think I achieved that handheld cassette sensation I was at least able to rest at night knowing it was the best I could do under the circumstances. 

For the promotion of So Jealous Tegan and Sara hired a new, younger, stronger, better looking version of myself named Ted to help fill out the live sound and play a few of the lines that I contributed to the album. Ted is a swell gentleman and a wunderkind with the synthesizers. In a moment that was profound for me, but most likely inconsequential to him Ted pulled me aside and said “I wanted to let you know something. I understand that without you I wouldn’t be here.”  

I tell you, it can take a day or two for something like that to sink in, but sometimes the graciousness of a single line can really knock you back a few steps.  

And it don’t stop, you just keep on learning. 

You know, I’ve been drawing from that line a lot lately   …”without you I wouldn’t be here”. It’s just been on my mind in regards to all of us in The Rentals. I keep thinking of all the people who, directly or indirectly, we wouldn’t be here without.  

There are a couple of lines in “Breakfast At Tiffany’s” that read “He may have looked old and tacky to you. But, you don’t know the sweetness of him, the confidence he gives to birds and brats and fragile things like that. Anyone who ever gave you confidence, you owe them a lot.”  

I am one of those fragile things and I know now that I owe quite a few people, like Tegan and Sara, quite a lot. They’ve given so much to me individually and without even knowing it they’ve given a lot to us all in The Rentals. 

One of the new members of The Rentals recently voiced some concern over calling this “The Rentals Remix” feeling that it maybe somewhat misleading to the public. 

So, just to be straight with you this remix was conceived by only yours truly and Howard Redekopp many, many months ago over a couple of long days in Vancouver, but I feel the confidence the girls gave to me informed where I should be going. That confidence set The Rentals on our first steps down the path we currently find ourselves on today and that’s why we are calling this “Walking With A Ghost (The Rentals Remix)”.  

I know if the new members of The Rentals had been collectively involved in this remix we would have hit it out of the park into another stratosphere and taken it to place I could have never arrived at on my own. 

Since Coachella, I think I’ve gone to six or seven Tegan And Sara shows in the Los Angeles area. I’m guessing that at one time or the other one of the guys in the band or in the crew must have quietly leaned into Sara and whispered “Am I crazy or is this guy stalking us?”  

If I only knew what her answer was. 

Until next time, 

Matt Sharp

The Rentals 

Diary: The End Of The Beginning 12-31-05

Diary: Day One 10-24-05

The big issues.

How did we get here ?

Is there life after death ?

Does God exist ?

O. K. ...so, let's not talk about the big issues.

Starting over.

Day 1 ...dear diary

State of the union, emancipation, proclamation.

We The Rentals are back.

Why ? ...mmmmmmmm ...fuck off ...that's why ...we're back!

No, really ...that's not so nice.

O. K. Think. nice. Ah!

Tangential thoughts.

I wish a cool breeze would pass by.

Think.

Starting over.

The big issues :

#1. How did we get here ?

Well, it's been a strange and twisted year.

A new solo album, delving into a new collaborative partnership or possibly retiring and opening up a small tobacco store in a remote Spanish village, all of these options have been equally bouncing around on the dining room table of my mind lately.

I was even entertaining the idea of rejoining weezer as a fifth member for a little while. They approached me about the idea sometime around the last Super Bowl. The idea started out with a bang. Bang!, bang!!, bang!!! Each one of us filled up the balloon with our own individual pre-conceived notions of all the endless possibilities ...then, pop!, pop!, fizz!, fizz! ...oh, what a relief it is!!! ...the idea quickly came, went and collectively fizzled.

I have a dusty department store where I keep all those weezer memories. When we started talking again, I started re-opening those doors, passing through the sporting goods department and revisiting that era all draped in cobwebs. As I passed by a wax figure of Al Delvecchio, off in the distance, a little to the left of women's shoes, I spotted a pretty little shimmering thing, a flickering little light, laying underneath all the weight of this behemoth, titanic, monstrous Orange amplifier and there she was, my last functional moog source. Although, looking rather ragged and worn out and somewhat like a vintage McDonalds cash register, she still had a little sparkle left in her oscillators and with that, she gave me that love bug look, she revved up, winked and wanted another ride. You see, my time with weezer and my memories of The Rentals are inevitably, invariably linked somewhere in the brain, to entertain one, it's nearly impossible not to entertain the other. So, I'd guess you could say, in some strange way, I have those fellows to thank for leading me down those rusty tracks, onto this train of thought, jumping over and onto that lonely old caboose.

But, when I started to ride ...I realized ...to what ? ...to where ? ...this yellow brick road is a dead end.

Images in the mind leading to this ...to what ? ...nothing ...briefly entertained ...but blank ...totally ...blank ...impossible ...then ...forget it.

A moment later, out of nowhere, freaking, bling, blam, bloom, as these miracles will happen (with C.G.I. ...& everything ...that's how we roll here on the eastside of Hollywood, that's how we roll). Bling, blam, bloom, with all your ex-girlfriends waiting in the wings of the big dance, bling, blam, bloom, all fixed up and looking for a swing, all fixed up and looking for a toss (I'm not sure what this means). But, while everyone was racing off to the mega-blockbuster techno i-pod after party. I met a few people across the street, sitting outside on the sidewalk, just sitting there on the curb. I met a few people that for some reason or other made the whole idea seem possible, it made the whole damned thing feel tangible and it filled me with confidence that there should indeed be a new day for The Rentals.

Sometimes, with the people you meet, it just seems to all make sense.

That's the long and short of it.

I have always stayed away from this idea, because I could never see how it would be possible to approach it with any sense of honesty. But now, with their help, I can see a path and I know that our best days lay ahead.

#2. Is there life after death ?

When we first brought up the idea behind closed doors, the people who are closest to me snooped around with our little secret to see what the interest would be. Much to my surprise they found a level of enthusiasm, anticipation and excitement that I really didn't think would exist.

And god damn, Honestly, I miss being around that sense of electricity ...it's exciting and I really look forward to the day when we can bring that excitement to you.

As I write this, we are just starting to put the pieces together. We are in a formative stage and we are starting the group from the ground up. It's a bright new day. It's a bright day.

Will it be explosive ?, will it be atmospheric ? lo-fi ? ...hi-fi ? ...I don't know.

It depends what seems most natural to us as a group.

The essential elements of The Rentals will be there. Our fascination with vintage synthesizers, violas, violins, female harmonies and all the rest will continue. But, I'm guessing, we'll most likely veer off the path that would lead us into the realm of becoming our own tribute band.

We will be, who we are. The Rentals evolution will come through our collection of personalities.

And in good time, we will introduce everyone involved.

In the meanwhile.

#3. Does God exist ?

I'll leave that up to Tom Cruise to answer.

Is there life on other planets ?

Well, we've given Kyle Conkright the keys to our flying saucer, so be nice to him and he'll let you know.

Is Celine Dion an alien ? ...well, I'll answer that. ...uh, yes. ...and she's riding shotgun.

Sit back and enjoy the show.

And we'll see you soon,

Matt Sharp

THE RENTALS