Last weekend we rolled up and down the 5 again. We’ve been through this area so much in the last three years, that it is very much starting to feel like family. We come into town, check up on each other, give hugs, share some food, play some music, and then say our very temporary goodbyes. This past tour we had the pleasure of rolling out with the esteemed Mr. Josh Rabie, singularly excellent fellow and fiddle player. You may remember him from such bands as Watertower Bucket Boys and, subsequently, Watertower. He is a shredder, taught us Brothers a big heap-ton of old-time fiddle tunes and traditional bluegrass numbers, and appreciates a fine cup of coffee. Hellova guy, there.
Our photo Blog begins with this guitar. We were up at the crack of dawn to make it to Eugene for our first show at Sam Bond’s. I was starving. We had been driving for days. In these harsh and ration-less conditions, I was near collapse. Food! I cried from the back seat. Nourishment! I begged. No, Gio. First, we had to stop at McKenzie River Music so that Ben could see his secret girlfriend:
If anyone has a spare $2000 lying around, and wants to get this for Ben, please do so. I’m not sure I could take another 10 hour drive without food as our first and primary destination.
Sam Bond’s was great fun, and we had the good fortune to crash with Brad and Asha. Not only are they great people, fun to hang out with, aspiring and brilliant professionals in beautiful and creative fields, and owners of lots of couch and floor space…. but they also are the world’s greatest purveyors of Band Breakfasts. This was our homemade Eggs Benedict. Yep. Brad made that sauce from scratch. Our road family is awesome.
A lot of people ask us (no one ever asks us) how we stay so fit and trim while we’re out on the road. Well. If you took the time to join up on our Instagram feed (@broscomatose), you would see regular and ridiculous photos of us at rest stops across the US firming up our pectorals, and flexing our quads. I was the lucky recipient of our last candid, rest-stop-cali
sthenics-photo-shoot. Note my awesome green lightning-bolt socks, please:
We stopped on the way to Bellingham to pick up our favorite videographer / road-warrior, the amazing Jessie McCall. Whilst stopped in Portlandia the ever-astute Josh noticed a giant puddle of important looking stuff pooling beneath the van. He is natural at respecting vans. Here he is with Alex – note the look of fatherly concern on Alex’s mustachioed brow. We do so love our van.
When the band decides to buy a commune and raise our little Brothers Comatose on a big farm where we alternate between touring and goat-herding, it will be in Bellingham. Hopefully very near to Jonah and The Roost. We met up with our old tour-chum Saturday night at his home-turned-venue. The opening band were our good buddies Juniper Stills – formerly Wyatt Parks and The Mute Choir. Here’s a photo of us jamming on the front stoop of the Roost, followed by the Stills rocking The Roost Stage:
And – following our traditional mind-bendingly great time had at The Roost, we follow it up with breakfast at The Copper Hog. Dear Copper Hog – your food is good, but we would like to register a complaint: Please bring back the Chicken and Waffles. It is the stuff dreams are made of.
Our last night was spent in Portland, Oregon. We were back at Mississippi studios and we loved seeing all our Portland family. We even got to hang out with some of our favorite musicians that we’ve met on our travels: Observe our Brothers Comatose hanging out with Portland’s Sisters Shook (from The Shook Twins, naturally):
The van made it all the way home on Monday, and she’ll be at the doctor all the next few weeks. Looks like some steering and transmission issues have been raised. I’m sure it will be very easy to fix, and extremely affordable.
We head out for the great South East again this weekend. A festival of Banjos and Barbeques, a week of club dates, and then Wakarusa. Keep your eyes here for more photos and updates, folks. Thanks for being such sweet folk to us, and for coming out to the shows, for putting us up on couches, for dancing, and letting us pursue this madness of a touring life.