Saturday, May 31, 2008

"The Guys Said You Would Be Monogrammed!"

(Mashups resume.)

TLASILA - 16 Bitch Pileup vs. Newcleus

"I do better at the zoo. The frozen raccoon."

(The image is grim, but one had to match the other. Las Putas' sleeve received the lead nod...)


(Two tracks, 5.28 MB, ripped @ 320.)



As if it were another round of injections,


Thursday, May 29, 2008

One Final Tour Date: The Laundry Room...

Not the Squelchers' primary habitat, mind (although having previously lived within that bubble, I can state with authority that discomforts are forever relative), but the actual utility room of my parents' Adel, Georgia manse. Confused? So was I, owing to the hour (1:45 AM) and the cumulative fatigue of a 32-hour commute from Hannover to Paris Gare de l'Est, Gare du Nord to Charles De Gaulle Terminal 2, from Gate E28 to Cincinnati, from Delta Gate A5 to Jacksonville International, and then two hours with Shave stalwart starlet Pat Spurlock across ribbons of Interstate (with a Henry Rollins spoken-word album creaking in the background as a sure-fire soporific) to home turf... As we pulled into my folks' place, I sheepishly remembered that I'd left the keys to all its doors inside. No waking them, what with Scooter Store ads blaring at top volume and double-paned windows blocking all but apocalyptic outbursts... We managed to find an unlocked portal in the adjoining laundry room; Patrick squeezed inside, opened the main door, and with his assistance (I was too groggy to be of any use), I set up camp on a sun-bleached chaise. A tattered tartan blanket served to ward off the larger mosquitoes, and before Herr Spurlock's car was clear of the driveway, I was gone... Woke at 7, dropped the first load of fetid tour duds in the washer at 7:10, and sat contentedly on the back stairs until life stirred within. (Sent the black Sketchers kicks through the "heavy" cycle twice.) Retrieved the morning paper and walked through the front door; mom was so shocked to see me that she dropped dad's Alzheimer meds on the bar top. It's good to be home with the folks.


(The Cool Palm at work on the morning of the 27th...)

(Tendrils bisect the masonry...)

(Connected, intertwined...)

(No Confederate banners seen in the whole of Deutschland. It was good to be away from hillbilly haunts...)

(A still from Claudia's copy of Piotr Uklanski's brilliant 1999 photo-essay The Nazis. Above, you-know-who. The tome depicts "the power of media representations that have substantially shaped and distorted our collective idea of historic evil." C's fave pic is of Leonard Nimoy.)

(The Austrian actor Leon Askin in my favorite image from Uklanski's collection; in addition to his loopy seven-year portrayal of Hogan's Heroes' General Burkhalter, Askin enjoyed a long and relatively varied career on American television and, occasionally, on film. He appeared on The Monkees, Daniel Boone, Honey West, The Outer Limits, I-Spy, The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Mission: Impossible, Three's Company, Diff'rent Strokes, Billy Wilder's great 1961 Cold War comedy One, Two, Three, Airplane II: The Sequel, Young Frankenstein, etc.)

(Second class on Deutsche Bahn beats the hell out of economy on the majority of American air carriers...)

(I switched trains at Karlsruhe for the evening slog into Paris...)

(A videographer fails to resist a confluence near Strasbourg station...)

(Charles De Gaulle's Terminal 1, 3:20 AM. The night shift's whirring, wrenching, creaking and craning made half-sleep truly delightful.)

(A staircase at CDG 1. To its immediate left, a mob of backpackers slept with unusual urgency...)

(I arrived at my gate at CDG 2 just after 6:30. Other than myself and a smattering of staff, the hall was deserted. Seated above, a second, equally hapless passenger. He wandered in at 7:15; by then, the shops were buzzing with frantic activity. One 50ml bottle of Vittel set me back 2.90 Euro. Gotta love the dollar...)

(Storm clouds remained on the horizon; the previous day's play at the French Open had to be postponed because of the intense weather produced by the system. I got fairly drenched myself going from Gare de l'Est to Nord...)

(Soothing architectural motifs rule.)

(An Air France flight crew assembled for their morning conference. Attendants in red work only with business class passengers...)

(E28 at 8:25; only three hours to departure...)

(Ahh, the clutter of home. CVG beckoned, but just barely. The taxiing outlines look as if they were drawn in chalk... )

(In pointed contrast to their warren of gates at De Gaulle, Delta's digs in Cincinnati are located at the Bond Hill DMV. What the Hell, home is home.)

(The awe and splendor... Two hours before takeoff, 27 hours in transit.)


Ran to the bank after 8:00, all the while marveling at the strange sensation of being back behind the wheel. I'd not driven for seven weeks, and I never missed it, not even for a second. (Europeans have a better way.) Staggered out of the F-150, plugged in the laptop, then allowed my mind to unspool...

Photos are updated through May 1. Scroll down, look for pertinent post titles, etc. Much more to come.

Sleepily Yours,


Wednesday, May 28, 2008

E28: Prefiguration...

At CDG's Terminal 2, waiting for the 11:30 to Cincinnati. From there, a fucked five-hour layover, then a weary slog to JAX where TLASILA's own Patrick Spurlock will (with luck) be waiting. Upon my arrival in Florida, I will have been traveling for 31 hours... At least I was able to perform abultions in the men's toilet this morning. No Larry Craigs lurking...

Just received an email from Claudia. As we sing in "Hell Will Envenom Them," sighs overlap... The last kiss must endure (for now).

I've been processing photos on the train, at the terminal, at gate E28. Expect a flood of newly smudged tour images sometime on the 29th.



Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Auf Wiedersehen Deutschland...

Fuck. Gotta pack up and head over to the Hannover Bahnhof... Hate to leave, but that's the way it goes. Kiss Claudia goodbye, then a nine-hour slide into France. After Paris Nord, the Metro to CDG 2, then a bumpy slither into home by way of Cincinnati. Sigh...

More soon from somewhere,


Monday, May 26, 2008

L*ve Goes to an Altes Gebäude (On F*re)...

(Amended 26 May 08.)

Sitting in Frau Franke's kitchen... Deeply, profoundly relaxed. (At last.) Happy, even. A chance encounter, and...

(Claudia, the cool palm, resolute on the path in Hannover.)

We're off to the supermarkt; more later...

Pix are updated through the Bratislava gig on April 26; some of Dave Phillips' snapshots from the Lausanne performance of May 14 have also been posted. Apologies for the delay in uploading other tour photos -- we've amassed thousands of images, and as you might suspect, the selection and editing processes consume much time. Sit tight and we'll soon provide the incriminating evidence you desire...

Yours Faithfully,


Revivified at Maschsee...

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Glazed and Infused...

Oh my fucking apeshit Jesus... I've just been run down by a platinum bullet train. Don't wake me, ever.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Another Perfect Day...

I'm still a little groggy from the cumulative crush of the tour, but these last three days in balmy, verdant Lüneburg have served as an extraordinary palliative. We saw so little of the city when we performed at Jekyll & Hyde - a street corner, an old tower, a mill pond, a laundromat, and a back room. Now, I know its winding paths, expansive parks, swimming holes, tree-lined boulevards, and many of its techno-besotted citizenry. It's as bucolic a city as I'd imagined, a perfect antidote to six weeks of convulsive (and exhilarating) blood-letting. Walking with Andre to pick up his daughters from kindergarten, buying them ices from the supermarket, giggling with them as we created absurd language games during the trek back to Universität, and later, enjoying deep, resonant conversations with Andre and Natasha, watching the first Winetou feature from 1963, laughing through the dutiful conventions of Raumpatrouille Orion, listening to Benga's insanely catchy "Night" while chopping vegetables for this evening's big feast - all of these fortuitous turns and unsuspected lacunae have been as important for me as the tour itself.

In the morning, a train to Hannover, and four days with the cool palm...


Thursday, May 22, 2008

A Blogger's Take on the Paris Performance...

Go here.

(Thanks to JF Pichard of Instants Chavirés for the link.)


I've arrived, Andre and Natasha have been delightful, and all is well... Gute Nacht!

(Happily adrift in the upstairs lair; the tour fatigue drains away, along with my will... More as soon as I've had an opportunity to switch off completely.)


Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Paris Pix...

(Captions to follow...)

Il est fini (et nous avons régné)...

(Amended May 22, 2008.)

Instants Chavirés gave us one helluva send-off. The terrific Italian trio Allun set the tone with a formidable display of bubbling id and paint-slathered paranoia. Splendid... As for EuroShave, Jurgen rejoined us (Dennis drove the revitalized Kangoo), and the few small wounds we'd previously inflicted on the other seemed, in immediate retrospect, quite fucking trivial. All poisons extracted... Began with "War" and slowly set the room ablaze. Balazs, Gaybomb, and Sickboy strafed the refinery while I dropped the Betty Hutton leaflets. What a fucking blast...

Hate that it's over, but we'll be back soon enough. Meanwhile, Andrew, Suzanne and the great Andy Bolus discuss Atavan... Balazs returns to Budapest tomorrow, Dennis and Sickboy drive back to Kortryk and Antwerpen, and Gaybomb and I will soon grab a taxi back to the Airport Hilton (palatial lobby, not terribly special rooms) and count sheep. Seven hours from now, I decamp at Gard De Nord until the noon train to Luneburg skids eastward. Mr. Barranca flies at 11 back to the States...

Quite sad, actually. Can't we quickly organize another 56 shows?

More soon about Christel, Hamburg, Claud the Cool Palm, Rote Flora, the 19-hour Hell ride (courtesy of the Belgian train workers' action - more power to them, but my arse is still aching...), etc.

Thanks to everyone, everywhere we performed, for everything (even the handful of stupid, mega-annoying, wildly unethical fuckers we encountered; we learned what not to do, who not to trust, from their calumny)...

Drunk and happy in the Instants Chavirés office,

With Love,


Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Monday, May 19, 2008

Happy New Year from the Harz...

Hello Droogs, Happy 2019! I‘m in the Harz region of Germany, enjoying a three-day getaway to cap off an eventful year, one marked by celeb...