719 Miles with the Brickbats

The plan was simple enough; four days, four shows. That would be where the simplicity ends and the living hell of "taking this show on the road" begins. Don't get me wrong, the road trips are one of the greatest things about being in a band, I mean ya get the rock, the roll, the bad food, the booze, the cold floors to "sleep" on and then a lot of crazy stories. Ours will start at the beginning.

Thursday, FeBOOary 24th. Highland, NY.
Sean (our road manager, whom you will find was indispensable on this trip) picks me up at my doorstep around 6:30PM, truck loaded and ready to go by about 7:00PM. I told Sean that it would be during this first leg of the trip that I would "make a man out of him" by forcing him to listen to trucker music non-stop. He wasn't pleased at first but, not unlike fungus on a corpse, truckin' sounds grow on you. By the time our destination was reached two hours later he had grown a goatee and was ready to drink some beers.

The show this evening was interesting on many levels, first our PA system was limited to say the least. We were able to make due with a lot of volume and some duct tape. Secondly, the crowd was unusually cold and prickly, nervous maybe. They don't seem to get much rock up that way and I suppose they just didn't know what to do with it in so much abundance. They did, however, react well we our comedic banter between songs. Humor really is the international language.

After the show Corey and I set to work on building a strong bar-tab, which is essential on a trip like this. During the height of it all I did something which shocked and surprised me, something I thought I'd never do in a million years: I was sitting at our merchandising booth trying to sell D.W.'s pants to the highest bidder when the guy in the booth next to me convinces me that I should let him make me a set of prosthetic teeth, the pointy kind. Now, I'm not exactly the tooth-y type, but figuring on the comedic value of a set of goofy lookin' Nosferatu fangs how could I resist?

Corey was equally shocked.

We stayed with our producer in Poughkeepsie that evening, D.W. refused though, so he made the long drive back to NYC. Sean also refused to sleep in Jaques' house, instead he opted to spend the night in his truck. Surprisingly enough, he was bright eyed and bushy tailed when morning came.

Friday, FeBOOary 25th, Philadelphia, PA
W/ The Brimstones

I knew a storm was brewing the minute we walked out the door, it only takes two things to make it pour all day, 1) the Brickbats are driving south for a show and 2) Corey's in the car.

Four hours, several wrong turns, two truck stops and a hitch-hiker later the Brickbats had arrived and promptly gotten lost in Philly. Maybe life in New York has made me a little navigationally soft, or maybe Philly is just laid out poorly. Either way, it doesn't seem like anyone in that town can give you directions to go around the block, let alone down to 38th street. Finally, the venue was found (accidentally on purpose), the truck was unloaded and a smiling D.W. greeted us at the door.

Corey said something so offensive to Sean that I couldn't even get either of them to tell me what it was, they were both pretty upset and embarrassed.

The Brimstones arrived about the same time and we had some time to take some photos together.

Brain even took time out of his rigorous warm-up schedule to pose with a possessed girl who had come to be saved by their powerful brand of horror-garage-surf-rock-and-or-roll music.

I got a quick shot of the Brimstones set before Corey and I head to the Motown / R&B bar across the street for some warm up beers.

Pictured here are Woolley, Skooch, & Deacon. Baron and Brain had slipped into their patented invisible man outfits right before showtime.

What I was able to catch of their set was an interesting sight; mohawked, leathered, studded, tattooed & pearced gutter punks had filled the room and were just heckling, screaming and throwing bottles at them. Now I've seen this a million times at other shows, but these guys just kept going and going. Their set didn't change, they never once got mad, nobody threw a guitar at the crowd (one of our personal faves). These guys were total pros about the situation and it really showed. The weird thing was, if those kids hated them that much, why didn't they go into the next room? I think it was just a new-found love that they just didn't understand.

When we took the stage things were a little calmer crowd-wise. The 'Stones seem to have an exhaustive effect an audience. The club was now mostly gutter-punk free and full of people who just wanted some good ol' rock (nothing beats rock) and we were ready to give it to 'em.

Beer were spilled, I fell off of a pretty decent sized speaker cabinet (I know, I shouldn't have been up there in the first place, but �)

Show over, after some hand signing and baby shaking we were off to drink and crash at Shona's place.

The road and D.W. tend not to get along very well at all, he had gotten on my nerves and I decided to help him remove that troublesome cranium of his.

Corey was not amused, much.

Saturday, FeBOOary 26th Scranton, PA
W/ The Pits

With the Brickbats now heading north we were guaranteed and rain-free ride, which was a relief. At a truckstop we met with a Roy Rogers' employee who wanted to play some shows with us, his opening lines were keepers:

Kid: "Do you like punk rock?"

Paul: "Yeah, I like punk rock."

Kid: "Oh, I'm not gay or anything �."

Paul: "Me neither, not that there's anything wrong with that."

I wish I could tell you which reststop was the home of the "Punk Rock Roy Rogers" but all of those stops are kind of a blur by now. Hell, they were a blur as they were happening.

Finally, Scranton PA greets us just over a bend at sundown. And load in begins all over again.

Once inside the club we are greeted by a fan who was waiting all day for our arrival.

He took quite a shine to Sean as well.

As the Pits arrived I had a meeting with their road manger, just to make sure that everything was straight with the show.

After the meeting I was a bit hungry and Robyn was kind enough to pack a lunch for me.

Nancy (one of the promoters that evening) was kind enough to bring dessert.

Nancy and Robyn also needed to have a meeting about the show which was about to transpire.

As the beer started to flow the Pits and I decided to give in and pose some of the paparazzi that had made it backstage some how. These were the only images I could get out of them.

These two are with promoters, Derek & Nancy:

D.W. and I got one with the Pits, then he had to go fix his make-up.

Myself and Dr. Morbid

	Dr. Morbid, Dusty Booze, Elvistein & myself

After the photo sessions it was time for the Pits to hit the stage. I was pretty amazed to find how drunk these guys can get and still rock out. Elvistien spent most of the set half unconscious on the stage. He didn't move much, but that boy can ROCK! They even did a great version of the Novas' "The Crusher", I couldn't resist trying to take the mike away from Dr. Morbid to sing on this one. He didn't seem to mind too much.

After their set it was Brickbats time again (let's face it, you know that's the only thing that keeps us together).

The audience was psyched to see us again, the Pits were so rocked (was it the beer or our brand of Undead Rock And / Or Roll music?) they kept spitting beer at me and pouring something they called "Pepsi" down my throat. The crowd was so good and kind that I finally had the opportunity to throw my bass at someone, it broke. Encore after encore they just wouldn't stop asking for more. My hand was bleeding so badly that evetually we had to call it quits and try to deal with the riot around our merchandising table.

We'll all be more than happy to go back to Scranton anytime.

We were to wiped out to make the long drive south to York (in the impending rain) that night so we said our good byes to the Pits and got ourselves a hotel room.

Sunday, FeBOOary 27th, York PA
W/ the Pits (yes, again)

I awoke that morning to Corey and D.W. screaming at each other for no reason (I told you, the road doesn't like him). We loaded up the truck and began the long ride down to York. Needless to say, as soon as we got on the highway it started to rain again (damn you Corey Gorey!)

This is somewhere between Scranton & York, the sign says Wilkes Barre but I've learned not to trust Pennsylvania road signs. And yes, that is a little "bobbing head dog" that we got on the way, he kept us in a pretty easy going mood when the CD gave us trouble.

Sean was really the only person who wasn't harshly affected by all of this craziness. God bless him for putting up with our bullshit and my pack-and-a-half-a-day smoking habit right next to him the whole trip.

Upon rolling into York, the first thing we saw was a Taco Bell, it just couldn't have been any sweeter that this, or so we thought. Inside we had the great pleasure of a rare middle-aged mullet sighting.

It is unfortunate that the photo does not depict the slogan on his sweatshirt, which begged the question "Why drink and drive when you can smoke and fly?"

You just can't make this stuff up.

We made it to the club alright after lunch. This crowd wasn't exactly our style but we had a good time with them anyway. It was like watching a car accident, OK that would make us the accident �. but they just couldn't take their eyes off of us the whole time. Kinda weird actually.

We had to pack up and start on home before we got to see the Pits play that night, which is extremely unfortunate because I have loved to see what they could to do a crowd like that.

Elvistien posed with us for one more shot before retiring to his van for a liquid lunch before the set.

We posed for a local paper before the final good-byes and hitting the road

I think this shot pretty much sums up the feeling of the end of the trip. It clearly depicts how seriously we party, as well as what the severity of bringing such a party to the people does to us. Damn we were tired.

Maybe "Living Hell" was a little too harsh of a word. Maybe I should have said something like "a little trying" or "tough, but rewarding". No, actually I think "living Hell" is about as accurate as it gets.

Please do take the time to visit these websites:
The Brickbats
Website: http://www.brickbats.com
email: PaulMorden@Brickbats.com

The Brimstones
Website: http://www.brimstones.com/
email: HellYeah@Brimstones.com

The Pits
Website: http://www.geocities.com/thepits13/
email: Elvistien@hotmail.com

Brickbat Merchandise can be purchased here:

3/05/00 *Editor's Note: Very special thanks to Paul for sharing his adventures. Tune in next time when you'll hear someone say, "He won't stop touching me!"