The Dixie Witch Chronicles – Part XI

Wendy's WWADThe Dixie Witch Chronicles – Part XI
And that’s fucking it!

…at least until I leave with Dixie Witch and Austin’s own Honky again October 15th.

Tuesday / July 8th – Day 16
Got up feeling like total asshole again…none of us having slept well. I thought the room at the Bramble Inn in Sheridan, Wyoming was just too bright, but Trini was convinced that it was inhabited by spirits. Well we took off across the Great Plains (and I mean Great Plains and nothing fucking else). I didn’t see anything at fucking all…no people, no buffalo, no fucking signs of civilization at all…just a wasteland of grass and scorching fucking heat. I felt like we were back in Arizona…the only things we were missing was the desert itself, and all the hot boys who inhabit it. I slept through most of the hell, and re-awoke smack Wendy's WWAD - Jarvis the Slob dab in the middle of it…in the guise of 100 degree weather in Denver, home to my most hated football team, with the exception of Neil Smith (ex-Kansas City Chief motherfucker). The venue was the 15th Street Tavern, and it took us approximately four never-ending block revolutions in the scorching heat to park in the spot we should have parked in initially. All I know is that it’s the end of two months, of both the most fun I’ve had in a while, combined with a literal hell on earth at other times.

I’m greeted by no other than the dude I made out with in Lawrence, KS, within 4 days of the east coast leg’s beginnings, along with my buddy, Jarvis the Slob (this fucker’s haunting me!), before I discover that Jumbo’s Killcrane goes on right before the Witch, and right after local stoner rock hodgepodges Black Lamb. Jumbo’s was actually pretty fucking badass (reminiscent of Graves at Sea) but way faster…although they still had the morphine drip going on pretty strong. They had a lot more off-beat heavy-ass discordant shit, while Graves was more consistent doom and gloom. The crowd was sparse, the poor attendance blamed on the sell-out (or near) High on Fire show the previous night. Well, after two months on the road with these guys I can’t say I blame them…if forced to choose between the two. The ideal situation would be to go to both rock shows.

Wendy's WWADPre-show I was already worried by the crazed look in Trini’s eyes as he bellowed, “Shit’s getting broke tonight” (please Paiste…give this fool an endorsement). I don’t want to say I can predict the future, but I have a sick feeling about what might transpire this hotass evening in Denver. Plus there’s this really freaky-burn-out-crazed –quasi-light-guy that kept hovering over my table and talking total fucking nonsense. He looked like he’d lived his entire bizarre life in Denver on way too many hallucinogens. Hover hover hover.

The Witch blew everyone, sparse as it was, the fuck away. They have grown leaps and bounds since I first encountered them at Room 710 on my birthday a couple of years ago. They have definitely paid their dues as well. Although they managed to dig themselves out of the hole they were entrenched in for merch and van investments on the east coast, their fourth stint on the west coast still has them (and therefore yours truly) returning to Texas with way way less than working a minimum paying job would have reflected bank account wise had I stayed in Austin the past two months (but who the fuck would have rather done that?). Of course, Trini had to attempt to bust out some John Bonham on everyone’s collective asses. What’s really funny is the affect On the Hunt by Lynyrd Skynyrd and Ronnie van Zant seems to have on people in totally diverse parts of America. As a whole, they all seem to want to rock out to it. I haven’t determined if it’s the delivery, or the fact that the Witch is from Texas, or if it’s the fact that everyone inherently really likes Skynyrd (whether they’ll admit to it or not). Regardless, the crowds fucking dig it. I have an excuse that I will continue to blame on being employed by Harley-Davidson for the last two years (you guys can figure out your own excuses).

Wednesday / July 9th – Day 17
I ended up doing bad things at the Black Lamb warehouse until 8:00AM. I remember wondering where the bathroom was in this place when this Alice in Wonderland cat appeared, looked at me as if I should follow, then went bouncing away. Well I followed the White-Rabbit-Cheshire-Cat up some stairs and through what looked to be a bedroom, then through a door to the elusive bathroom. It was fucking surreal. I also remember the Black Lamb dudes getting pissed off because I was bitching about the never-ending stoner rock accompaniment and made them bust out some Slayer. Then I slept for two hours, woke up, then did more bad things …and got back in the van for the super-long-ass-boring-ride-to-motherfucking-Kansas-City-MO, with absolutely nothing to look at until about 10:00 PM, an hour away from the gig and totally late. It rained most of the way there, making us dread the load in. Luckily the club, and the club owner, were cool as shit…although the crowd left a lot to be desired. The opening band left a lot to be desired too. They sucked so bad I never even asked their name…of anyone. We lucked out that night, as ??? formerly of the Wichita band Archie Bunker now of Helvis, who was a friend of the Witch, had just finished the Oz Fest Tour and needed a ride back to his place in Wichita. Since we had nowhere to stay, and his place was 3 hours closer to the final gig in Oklahoma City, we gladly drove him there.

Wendy's WWADThursday / July 10th – Day 18
Already in Wichita, I woke up hot as fuck and feeling absolutely terrible. I was dreading these last two days…and ready to go home. At least we were halfway to OKC for the gig at the Green Door. We cruised around town, hitting the music store on the way out. We arrived in OKC and went straight to Jim’s place, Size Records. I had to buy the new Meatjack CD, Trust, because I remembered it totally rocking ass, when I heard it at the Stinking Lizaveta headquarters in Philly. The show was fun, as our OKC friends like to get us super-fucking-loaded every time we come through and they’re super-cool-as-well.

Friday / July 11th – Day 19
Woke up ready to be back the fuck in Austin. We took off after only 2 ½ hours of sleep as we had to drop Claytallica off at a friend’s funeral in Wichita Falls en route. What a fucked up way to end a tour! Afterwards we suffered the entire hot ass ride home. Then the rock-n-roll party started up all over again when I remembered I had booked the Red Eyed Fly that night to the tune of Spoils, Blood Burnin’ and the Punkaroos, discovered that the Spiders were playing that night at Room 710, and realized that all my bitches were going to be out on the town.

So rather than unpack, I went to the fucking rock show. I mean… What Would Ace Do?

Bar-b-que & Makeup
Seeing Turbo Negro live is like an hour long orgasm. Don’t know what I’m talking about, Loser? In an age of holier than thou alternative country, shopping mall punk rhetoric, and grease monkey rock n’ roll, Turbo are the real fucking deal -- strip down to your Scandinavian leather and get aboard while you still have a chance. The Motherfucker truly has landed. They will forever be the monkey on your back; the light that never goes out; the crack in the sidewalk; the priest that’s gone to town; the alpha and the omega. Darkness forever, Dudes.

-- By Jeff Buzzcrusher Martin, my bud who drove the band to get bar-b-que and makeup before the show.

Rock n Roll Q & A with Happy Tom, bass player extraordinaire and genius behind Norwegian Rock Gods Turbo Negro

Wendy's WWAD - Turbo NegroQ: It’s been a number of years since your last album, and you cancelled your last scheduled show in Austin. Why the delay?
Happy Tom: Because Hank (Vox / Turbo Negro) was in the mental hospital and kicking heroin for four years.
Q: The Swedish scene is generally better known than the Norwegian scene. Why do you think that is?
Happy Tom: Norway’s primarily agricultural, while the Swedes have money and style. In Sweden, you’ll see old supermarket cashiers in designer clothes. Sometimes at clubs there you’ll see some bouncers that look white trash. And a lot of the punk rock bands try to make themselves look white trash, but it’s all an appearance.
Q: What does white trash look like?
Happy Tom: Lynyrd Skynyrd. There used to be a great hardcore scene in Norway, but it died out.
Q: Are there any other good Norwegian bands that you guys play with over there that are being ignored over here?
Happy Tom: Amulet and J.R. Ewing, the first two American released records for Euro Boy (fucking rockass guitarist for Turbo Negro) Productions.
Q: How’s your reception in Scandinavia? The rest of Europe?
Happy Tom: We’re a little bigger over there. In Norway, we put out a gold record the same day it came out, and then played in Oslo for 6,000 people. Our last record even outsold Madonna’s. Everyone was there…even my parents. We have only played a couple of shows in Finland, which were good, and Denmark.
Q: How was the response in Denmark?
Happy Tom: Denmark isn’t much of a rock-n-roll country.

Although this interview was short and sweet (The Sniels and I did it in between their double sets at Emo’s 11th anniversary on Monday September 28th), I might add that night was one of the premier rock-n-roll nights of the year. Downtown from 4:00pm to 2:30am, I seriously tied one on, got a spot right up front during the whole first set, and managed to avoid the torrential fake blood bloodbath. I think everyone that was off work and in fucking town that night was at either the first, second or both shows. I woke up the next day covered in unexplainable bruises and unable to talk (having lost my voice screaming-yelling-talking-singing). It was definitely an unforgettable night (except for the last thirty minutes or so when I blacked out). I can barely wait for their return!


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