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May 11, 06 09:59 AM

Like Gothic Hotcakes.


(Title is a nonsequitur; I just liked it)

Gigs last weekend in Madison, Iowa City, and River Falls (Wisconsin).

(all these live pix, from River Falls, ganked from listener Josh Kohanek)


Allergies struck the night of the Madison gig, but I dosed up with some Dayquil (my usual cure). I ended up blowing my voice out. The next day I sounded like Brenda Vaccaro. It was not so much the gig, as all the talking afterwards; believe it or not, an hour or so talking with audience people takes a heavier toll than full-blown singing.

So I was freaked out the next day, even more so by the unexpected possibility that we were going to fly to Los Angeles on Monday to do a TV show (they ended up booking a different artist, which is a bummer, but probably lucky for me and my scratchy throat). I abstained (mostly) from talking all day, and did a shitload of goofy warmup excercises.

Iowa City was so great. The Scrig and I were supermeshed and tight. With the exercises (and a little more Dayquil, oh the magic of pseudoephedrine) I had gotten my voice to a place where the Brenda-Vaccaro-ness was actually kind of pleasing; whiskey notes.

There's a high note on "Madeline," and one on "Bells," that are my bete noires on a bad-throat night. But perhaps the audience is reminded of Biz Markie and find the weird notes to be fun.

After the Iowa City gig, I hid in the wood-paneled dressing room; fans kept knocking on the door, pestering Chuck to coax me out to sign stuff. Still thinking I had to preserve my voice for the L.A. TV thing, I stayed sequestered. I felt bad about hiding from the audience. I kind of felt like Prince.

River Falls: a full-on rock star experience. An amphitheatre, and sexy drunk girls jumping onstage to dance. Bliss.

Posted by Mike at May 11, 2006 9:59 AM