“This Must Be The Place” (Talking Heads Cover) – Pseudo Kids

I’m posting this song because it’s one of my absolute favorites; not just by Talking Heads but anybody. Lyrically, it’s just as heartbreaking as any song Roy Orbison or Otis Redding ever wrote, but musically it makes you want to dance, bob your head or just move. It’s an interesting combo that Pseudo Kids seem to understand. This recording was made live at Rob McGregor’s Goldentone Studio in Gainesville, FL. Pseudo Kids realized the groove oriented nature of this song, leaving the drums and bass to carry most of the load, sprinkling in Rhodes piano and guitar to carry any melody left behind by the vocals. In terms of vulnerability these lyrics are stark naked, and Scott Kauffmann sings them like a newborn crawling for the first time; unsure, curious and brave. You can download the rest of the Live From Goldentone Studio recordings as well as the previously released Lost Year EP for free here.

“Old Black Shuck ” – Waylon Thornton and the Heavy Hands

Waylon Thornton and the Heavy Hands can claim a couple of things in the Gainesville music scene. First, the band is probably the only man and wife combo playing consistently in this town. And secondly, this isn’t some James Taylor/Carly Simon, Sonny/Cher type music. This is the stuff that’s born from wacky, sinister outlandish worlds better suited for a Todd McFarlane comic, not Gainesville. Thornton self describes the music as “what a sunburn feels like.” Although I’m typically against these analogies because they very often make sense, I couldn’t help but smile when listening to this track. It’s got a swampy, psychobilly strut to it. The scream in the beginning makes me think of a pasty, sunburnt beachgoer jumping into the shower after a long day in the sun and feeling that first sizzle of hot water on their skin. The rest of the album, Sixteen Dreams plays out in a similar fashion. It’s thirteen tracks of head-splitting guitar riffs with grimey reverb, chunky drum rhythms and fuzz-laiden vocals. To call it swamp rock would strip the music of its horrific charm. So rather than continue to find adjectives, I’ll just let you listen to the fucking songs. You can download them here for free.

“Little Devils” – Deputy

“Little Devils” is the kind of riff that girls get undressed to. It’s raunchy and it’s supposed to be. Maybe that’s why Chris Hillman, drummer for Morningbell and temporary side man for many other bands, is Gainesville’s sole purveyor of sleazerock. Deputy is the bedroom project that’s making sleazerock happen. He uses crunchy guitar tones, simple blues-oriented riffs and lots of attitude. After all, the difference between great rock n’ roll and the pretenders is attitude. Hillman eventually plans to take Deputy to the stage, but hasn’t found a bar divey enough to fit the music. A full length album from Deputy is also coming soon, so stay tuned.

Stay tuned for next week’s Tuesday playlist, and as always leave a comment!

“Don’t Wait For Me”- The Boswellians

The Boswellians are a new band in town. They’ve been cutting their teeth at 1982 Bar and the Civic Media Center almost weekly for months, and the constant show experience is helping craft a jazzy, Gershwin-like pop style. Vocalist Amy Lobasso teamed up with pianist Ryan Backman, whose throwback style is a revelation for this music scene. Recently they added Fletcher Yancey and Scott Kauffmann on drums and bass respectively to help round out their sound. This track “Don’t Wait For Me” is from their self-released EP And How!

It is available for download here.

“Look On The Bright Side”- Levek

Levek is a Gainesville band leaving few musical stones unturned. The ambitious group lead by school bus driver David Levesque is traveling down uncharted territory for this town, exploring genres like soul, funk, indie pop and mixing those sounds with Hawaiian and West African influences. Levek is a difficult band to peg and listening to this track will give you some nomenclature-related headaches, but it will also transport you to a world that probably never existed. It’s like listening to the soundtrack to a blacksploitation film while trying to block out the noise of Sade singing in a lounge in Rio De Janeiro. I see big things for this band and I hope Levesque and company keep striving for greatness. You can download the full, 9-track Levek Demo here.

“Sister Prichard”- The Good King

There aren’t a lot of fantastic things coming out of the crop of singer/songwriters in this town. Of all the genres picking up like the indie and experimental scene, this one seems to have taken a step backward…or so I thought. The Good King is the project of James Kaufholz, a music critic and avid blogger. This song in particular reminds me of Sufjan Stevens, Colin Meloy of the Decemberists and Paul Simon getting together to write a song about an apocalyptic minded nun. Like his heroes Kaufholz sets out to tell stories, embracing the narrative side of folk music in a way that few are doing in Gainesville. He’s stripped the personality from himself and placed it into characters and I think it’s precisely that distinction that has won hearts. After all, sometimes we don’t want to hear about someone’s struggles over and over again, but give us a character to get behind and all of the sudden we have a connection. It’s a beautiful thing. You can download the I Will Have Done EP here.

By: Tim Groves

A solitary figure is shrouded in smoke, head down with his sweaty hair covering his face as his fingers move ferociously across the neck of his guitar. In the background, all that is visible is the outline of a drum set, drumsticks flying every way as the thunderous rhythms dot the guitar riffs. Beneath the layered drum patterns and quick-fingered guitar play, is the thumping bass, bringing the song to life. The figures on stage seem lost in a trance. They seem hypnotized and emotionless, but in reality, they’re deep in concentration.

Gainesville’s psychedelic rock trio Ancient River consists of lead singer/guitarist Jamie (pronounced Hi-may) Barreto, drummer Chad Voight, and bassist Zach Veltheim. The three friends are all business on the stage, focusing solely on their music and performance at hand. It’s easy to get lost in their music, especially when the jams reach their chaotic peaks or fall into pools of ambient noise. However, once the show ends, the trio begins to look for the party. They are drawn by the wild nights, ridiculous stories, and overall good times of the rock n’ roll industry. They become apart of the crowd, a part of those wild tales that begin with “Dude, I can’t believe what happened last night.” It’s that sort of liberation that helps their exploratory music.

Their musical landscape draws listeners in with hot and heavy guitar work, dream like lyrics, crushing drums, and a smooth bass. Only a basic concept of their music can be ascertained from the recordings and Youtube clips available on the Internet. To truly understand what they are capable of is to experience a live show. Ancient River puts it all on the line during their performances. The staple of their shows is the prolonged sets of improvised music, melding together different influences from blues to jazz to psychedelia into a single song.

“That’s the real moment when you get to see musicians playing, yout know, on the spot. That’s when you see them create what you listen to on record and you are hearing them create it right in front of you,” Voight says while lounging in the group’s studio/home.

Voight and the crew take great pride in the music they have created over the years, and there’s lots of it. Ancient River has a catalog of dozens of songs that owe their inspiration to Black Sabbath, Neil Young, Jimi Hendrix and Pink Floyd.

“We have loud stuff, quiet stuff, fast stuff, slow stuff, long stuff. It’s one of our strengths,” argues lead singer Barreto.

Check Ancient River out at Durty Nelly’s in Gainesville.

Barreto and Voight at Austin Texas' Psych Fest.

Their shows have turned many fans, but none more important than a man who was absolutely floored after witnessing a live performance. After being blown away he agreed to help finance a full-length album, currently titled “Shiny Things” set for release in the spring. Their ability to put on a show has also led to interviews with online sites such as Break Through Radio and tour dates as far out as Austin, Texas for Austin’s Psych Fest 3 this past summer. However the band is also trying to reach fans face to face.

Ancient River DJs at LUX on Saturday nights, which gives them an opportunity to socialize, network, drink and spin a lot of fantastic vinyl.

“When we are at a show it’s hard to talk to people, it’s our chance to socialize with the fans,” Barreto said.

Unfortunately, Ancient River still has their share of problems when it comes to promotion. Living in Gainesville has presented unique challenges to the group. Unlike most major cities, Gainesville is and always will be a college town.

While a college town brings tons of new fans to the band each year, that same benefit can be a horrible curse. “We have already had people like become fans, come to shows, start bringing their friends to shows and then move away,” Baretto lamented during the interview. “It’s a transient town.”

The problem is compounded by their chosen genre of music. No one else in the Gainesville music scene is trying to compete for the psychedelic blues fan base, but psychedelic blues is an extremely niche genre. You won’t find a section for it at the local Target or Best Buy music sections, and you won’t find any radio stations dedicated to playing it 24/7. It can be loud, noisy and sometimes inaccessible. Although the basis of the genre is groove oriented, some people can’t look past the wilder side.

They hope that their live shows make the fans keep tuning in.

Jeff Lancaster, Ancient River's manager.

“They like to cut loose at live shows,” their newly minted manager Jeff Lancaster responded. “It’s a chance to get really, really loud with their equipment, and they have really nice loud equipment.” Ancient River is also constantly evolving, constantly tinkering with some aspect of their performance. “You won’t see the same song, the same set list, or the same performance of a song, you will hear new songs because we are a prolific band,” asserted Voight. “We usually present a song or two every time we play.”

They are beginning to put their enormous backlog of songs into physical music releases. Outside of the album Shiny Things, the band just sent off a two year, self-released anthology to be mastered. They hope to get it in the hands of their listeners soon, hopefully by the end of November. “Before the kids leave,” responded Lancaster. “Yeah then they all have something to give out as presents,” added Veltheim as the rest of the members chuckled along. They are also planning another self-released full-length album following the release of Shiny Things.

“We are always gonna wanna do what we want to do and what we like to do. It’s just fun to play music.”

Check out Ancient River at www.facebook.com/ancientrivermusic

This is an improvised painting of The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds by Chicago-based artist Adrienne Janci. Her blog provides a look into how music can inspire visual art.

Musicians often say the best songs and albums paint a picture in their head. Adrienne Janci, a 27-year-old artist from Chicago, IL took this idea to heart, and started painting albums as they played, taking the abstract landscapes and color schemes of the music and putting them to canvas in real time. The idea is simple, beautiful and repeatable, and after painting a small artillery of artwork she introduced her music-inspired creations in a blog called “Seeing From Hearing.”

Since the blog started in June 2010, 17 albums, ranging from classics like Pet Sounds, to more obscure Illinois-based musicians like Fred Thomas’ Sink Like A Symphony made it to the web. Janci uses it as a platform for her own expression, but is eager to make the site a more collaborative effort. Ideally, she’d like musicians and music fans from all over the country and paint their favorite albums and send them her way, to form a nationwide music-painting-party.

The best part about the concept is that anyone can conjure such images. Anyone can paint what they hear, and everyone will paint differently. From one music-based blogger to another, Janci is stumbling upon marketable territory and while her site has nothing to do with Gainesville music, it’s simply too delightful to keep from our community. We have musicians.We have artists. We have the passion, so I encourage everyone to make contributions to her site.

The following are some highlight paintings that may strike your fancy. Most all of them are for sale, so if Radiohead’s In Rainbows is your favorite album, what better way to commemorate it than an orignal painting in its honor?

In Rainbows by Radiohead. Actual size 20x26". (Photo/Adrienne Janci)

Fleet Foxes by Fleet Foxes. Actual size 20x26". (Photo/Adrienne Janci)

Pink Moon by Nick Drake. Actual size 20x26". (Photo/Adrienne Janci)

To post a recommendation, send your own painting, view fast motion videos of paintings in progress or purchase art, visit seeingfromhearing.blogspot.com

By: Dante Lima

Danny Perez is trying to create the soundtrack to American nightlife. He finds poetry in the half-empty drinks left on bars at the end of the night, the hopes of finding a connection to a scene, the conversations clouded with loose inhibitions and cigarette smoke and the desolation of last call. Much like Bruce Springsteen painted the pictures of the vibrant, consuming life on the New Jersey boardwalk in the mid-1970s, Perez is telling stories of the modern youth through the music of the modern youth: Hip-hop. If it sounds ambitious, that’s because it is, and Perez would be the first to tell you he’s never wanted to be bound by the conventions and stereotypes of a genre that has surrendered songwriting to major label hit factories. He wants to bring the charisma and the artistry back to hip-hop, and if it takes long, drunken nights in Gainesville bars to get there, consider it liquid fuel for thought.

Hip-hop is a nocturnal genre. It started in the basements of New York houses and apartment buildings, where DJs would spin records and MCs would rhyme into the early morning. It eventually moved from guerilla encampments to the grandeur of nightclubs all over the country, and that’s primarily where it’s stayed. So naturally, when Perez was brainstorming for his 2010 full-length album Bar Tab Blues nightlife became the central theme. Rather than try and duplicate the big-city vibe, he traded in 15 dollar cocktails for PBR tall boys, the 40/40 Club for Common Grounds and focused his attention on the small bars and clubs of Gainesville, his hometown. After all, this town is just like any other in America, and to a certain extent, small town life is punctuated by trips to the local bar. Otherwise there’s just not much else to do.

"Bar Tab Blues" is the first installment is a series of upcoming albums by D.P.

So Perez got writing. What came out was 17 tracks of lost love, disenchantment, drug use, escape and ocassionally, sobriety. With the use of all self-produced beats and piano rhythm tracks, the songs flow seamlessly from one to the next, as if they all exist in one long night.

“Call it a concept album if you want. I’m not really sure that it is,” Perez said while sipping an iced mocha at Maude’s Coffee Shop in Gainesville. “I’ve just always liked art that follows a theme, whether it’s visual or musical, but unfortunately hip-hop has moved away from that and it’s all about singles. Singles are certainly necessary, but I’ve always thought of songs as small components of a bigger idea.”

Make no mistake about it though, Perez wants a large audience. He wants to be a star, just not at the expense of his art. The songs should be relatable, they should be catchy, they should do all of those things, but they can also be personal and tell stories too, he said. A hip-hop single doesn’t have to be a “shake your ass girl” type of song.

Since he was a teenager he admired the likes of Outkast, a hip-hop group that could coexist in both the artistic and popular communities. For the last 15 years Outkast has not only given hip-hop some of its best and most thought provoking albums, like Aquemini, which blended dirty South roots rap with psychedelic overtones, but also some of pop music’s most enduring singles like “Hey Ya” and “I Like The Way You Move.” Outkast laid the blueprint for a successful crossover, and for that reason Perez calls them a pop group and an inspiration.

“I don’t have any problem with people calling my music pop music. I actually enjoy pop music and that’s honestly what I’m going for,” he said. “What’s the point of making music if people don’t want to hear it, I mean I guess there’s a meaning in that for some, but that’s never been my goal. I’m in it for myself, but I think every musician wants to be heard.”

Here’s a couple examples of D.P.’s pop style: (Tell me you couldn’t hear this on the radio)

“Lost In The Music” from Bar Tab Blues

Also, the official video for “I’m Gone”

Getting your music to a wide audience is easier said than done in a town like Gainesville. There’s a limited population and a limited number of music venues that can adequately suit a growing artist. D.P. is routinely drawing between 200 to 300 people to each show, but he says he’s reached a bit of a ceiling.

“I love the Gainesville music scene, and I ideally want to live here. I think this is a great town and a great town for music, but I can see myself outgrowing it in time,” Perez said. “I feel like the next step is to take my music around Florida and eventually all over the country.”

(Photo/Flysouthmusic.com)

To help him achieve his goal he’s signed a management contract with the Orlando, Florida-based company Fly South Music Group, an agency that manages the likes of A Day To Remember, Paramore, Whole Wheat Bread and The Supervillians. So far, the added promotional help has helped him land opening gigs for hip-hop giants like Goodie Mob and Bone Thugs N’ Harmony, and an upcoming opening slot for Public Enemy.

“They [Fly South] have kind of put me on the fast track to getting bigger shows, and it certainly helps. You know, you open for local talent across the state and 30 or 40 people might hear your music, but if 1,000 attend the show and 500 are there when I play, I’m getting a lot more ears in the room.”

Passive ears don’t necessarily make fans though. On a recent trip to Miami, FL, he played a free show to about 200 people, none of which were really interested in the music. “It was more like background noise to them,” he said. The ambition to consistently promote himself and grow as an artist is juggled with his love for small, in-touch communities like Gainesville. Playing to big crowds is nice, but bodies aren’t fans. Here, he has lots of them.

To keep the fans happy and interested he’s released a four-part EP series called American Scene which can be downloaded at www.officialdp.com. He’s also got another full-length album in the works called While We’re Still Young, a sister album to Bar Tab Blues. There are over 25 conceptualized tracks for the album, many of which will not make the cut. If anything, Perez always has his audience at the forefront of his thoughts and his music, and he’s quickly established himself in Gainesville as a crowd pleasing performer, but also mind-bogglingly prolific one.

Maybe it’s his own youthful ambition that inspires him, or maybe it’s what he sees around him, but D.P. is a character in Gainesville music whose story is still being told. His stories chronicle the lives of attention starved young adults “pushing to get so close to the stage,” and perhaps Perez has given us a glimpse into his own world. His goals are just as bold and bombastic as his hooks, and given the small spectrum of hip-hop artists in town, the magnifying glass has been placed solely on him. But that’s exactly where he wants it to be.

To purchase D.P.’s albums, or the latest news and tour information visit www.officialdp.com.

(Photo/Chris Hillman

(Editor’s Note: The following is a documentary shot on the final Flaco’s Wednesday July 14, 2010. Eric’s coverage of the final event captured the exact spirit that every show at Flaco’s released onto SE 2nd St. and University Ave. and I wanted to share it with everyone.)

Eric Atria said it best, “If you’ve ever wondered why we are proud to call Gainesville home, here is exhibit A.” Funny, it’s just like a lawyer to be presenting us evidence, but what a marvelous piece of evidence he’s given. Please watch and enjoy moving pictures from the last night at Flaco’s.

(Editor’s note: This is a submission from Eric Atria, bassist for Morningbell and an enthusiast of Flaco’s Wednesdays. The following article is his tribute to one of Gainesville’s most beloved, homegrown musical institutions. After the article, feel free to look at some pictures that chronicle two years of music at Flaco’s.)

Flaco’s Wednesdays aren’t real.  They shouldn’t be.  Under any other circumstances, they wouldn’t be.  Think about it. It’s a steamy, cramped room packed full of people listening to the same band play every week.  Beyond that, the day itself is entirely impractical: Wednesday.  Everybody has work or school in the morning and the weekend’s embrace isn’t close enough to nurse any hangovers that will surely come.

Let me put it this way.  If I told you that the banjo player from a locally popular 15 piece Latin/Afrobeat band was going to host a Wednesday night of music and beer in the tiny back room of a Cuban Sandwich shop, you probably wouldn’t think much of it.  In fact, you’re probably picturing a mostly empty space filled with a few friends who came half out of guilt and half out of promises of free beer.  Any musician knows this scene all too well.  That’s what SHOULD happen under these circumstances.  That’s what ALWAYS happens.

Sure enough, that’s how this all started for Michael Claytor.  A few devoted friends came out at first.  They hung around for the tunes and drank the cheap beer, but it was nothing to redefine the word phenomenon.  However, as time went on, the crowds grew.  Word of mouth passed through the town like a flaming perpetual motion machine.  In fact, so many people began to show up that the walls appeared to stretch.

Wednesday nights on North 2^nd St. came to resemble a college movie from the 80’s.  People from all walks of life (white and black, student and professor, gay and straight, young and old) gathered together to share songs, beers, and laughs. Beautiful girls danced as the band worked the crowd into a frenzy, fists in the air, singing “Solidarity Forever!”

Michael Claytor, the man behind Flaco's Wednesday and one of Gainesville's most talented and recognizable songwriters.

Well, you’re surely asking, how did this all happen?  To that, I would submit that what goes on in that back room is beyond entertainment.  It’s pure love.  And there’s but one man at the helm of the whole hullabaloo: Michael Claytor. Michael and his bandmates, Evan Garfield and Michael Pedron, are the heart of the operation (together, they’re known as Michael Claytor and His Friends).  Since the events are always free, their efforts are truly a labor of love.  Arriving over an hour before the crowd to set up and staying to clean up long after everyone has left, the amount of work required on a weekly basis simply wouldn’t be done if they didn’t care deeply about what they were doing.

Early on, Michael recruited a friend and frontman for The Takers, Devon Stuart, to help him fill out the night.  Besides playing solo, Devon began singing and playing guitar with Michael, with Pedron and Garfield as the backing band.  This evolved into The Adult Boys Thunderband, which plays original material that doesn’t overlap with either’s original projects.  In other words, they’re insanely prolific.

As time went on, the nights became somewhat of an invite only open mic night, featuring Gainesville’s most popular musicians.  Sticking to the theme of pure love, totally unknown acts were also welcome to perform, and many became regular players.  Certain nights felt like New York City in the early 1900s where all the famous musicians would end up at the same club and jam together.  The evenings always possessed an element of freedom, allowing the performers to experiment with side projects, new songs, or purely bizarre performance art (I’m reminded of Travis, my brother, reading selections of Jackie Chan’s autobiography interspersed with amateur trumpet solos).

As the last few weeks of Flaco’s Wednesdays have passed, I couldn’t help from thinking: I can’t believe this is going to slip away into the collective subconscious of Gainesville.  I can’t believe that college kids in four years won’t have any idea what kind of legendary times took place in that small room. Then again, I know that all of the loyal devotees will never forget these magical nights.  We’ll share stories from that tiny haven room as some of the best days of our lives.  The Flaming Lips said “Suddenly, everything must change,” and so it must be with Wednesday nights in Gainesville.

I count myself fortunate to have shared in the love brought by Michael Claytor and His Friends.  No one else could have done this, and perhaps no one else ever will again.

(Editor’s note: This is the final installment in a series by Chris Hillman about Morningbell’s summer tour.)

Washington, D.C. to Gainesville, FL

After packing up and shipping off from the Big Apple, it was off to Washington D.C., aka The City That Stole $4500 Worth of Camera Equipment From Me And a Macbook Air From Stacie Last Year. I didn’t want to go back, but we couldn’t get a show anywhere in Baltimore, so it was back to D.C. (actually Arlington, VA) for Morningbell. The show was good, and we played with a friend (the talented Olivia Mancini) and I got to spend time with another former Gainesville resident, my friend Elizabeth. Nothing was burgled this time, so D.C. earned back a couple points this year. I guess.

Me onstage in Arlington, VA

After D.C. I felt back on friendly soil. Every time I go on tour, coming back into the south after being up north makes me breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe it’s because we’re getting closer to home, and maybe it’s because as a native southerner I feel more at ease. For the drive into Durham I manned the iPod most of the way and picked my favorite bluegrass and old country. Gotta set the scene. We dropped off Joel at his girlfriend’s apartment in Durham. They have a long-distance relationship and he was really excited to see her. We felt weird without him. Even though he was the photographer and not a member of the band, he was absolutely a member of our group on this trip and we missed him after we dropped him off. Eric and I made a bet to see whether Joel and his girlfriend would come to our show that night or if they’d sink into themselves and only emerge the next morning. I bet that he would show up after all. I won.

We had nowhere to be for several hours so we headed over to Sarah P. Duke Gardens on the Duke campus. It was beautiful and gave us some well-needed nature after being in solely urban environments for twelve days straight. We all lay down in the shade under a blooming Crepe Myrtle and just disintegrated for a while. On tour, you’re in the presence of your bandmates for nearly every waking hour. By the last couple of days, even if you get along really well (and we do, which is rare), you just have nothing left to say to each other. You’ve had a collective consciousness for the recent past, and your memories are their memories. Combine that with physical exhaustion and the growing desire for privacy and you’ve basically got four silent individuals.

Travis relaxing in the Duke Gardens

Laura and her friends helped make the Durham show a success.

But onstage you must overcome whatever existential and physical woes you’ve accumulated and remember to rock. The show in Durham was incredible. Another former Gainesville resident and Duke grad student (and the lovely girlfriend of this very blog’s editor), Laura Haynes, came to our show and managed to bring about twenty of her friends and colleagues. The venue was big, the stage was ample, the beer was free, and there were a bunch of pretty girls. You can’t argue with that. We stayed with former Gainesville residents Lamar and Christie Mair. They always cook us an amazing breakfast (this time it was perfectly-formed omelettes, French toast, and a pile of fresh strawberries) and are generally wonderful wonderful people. If I haven’t said it enough: friends who let you sleep on their floors are far and away the best part about touring.

The last night was Athens. We played with a great local band who featured a former member of Of Montreal called Casper and the Cookies, but it seemed like we drew more people than they did. There’s no way to verify that I suppose, but we had the prime slot in the lineup and I guess that worked in our favor. Even though it was relatively unremarkable, it was by far Morningbell’s biggest success in Athens since the last few times we’ve played there have been disappointing, to say the least. I don’t think I took a single photo in Athens, but you know what it looks like. College town. Slightly more hills.

We stayed with (you guessed it) another former Gainesville resident, my friend Emily. She has a great big clean house and my bandmates crashed immediately. Emily and I stayed up and watched King of the Hill for a while and I got to sleep in a bed—two things I had missed immensely on the trip. In the morning we unceremoniously slipped out early and began the long drive home. The last show of a tour, especially if it’s in a town you feel ambivalent about, is just a means to an end. The last hurdle before the finish line.

Going on tour is an uncanny combination of excitement and monotony. There are forty five minutes of thrill every night, and there are other moments of delight peppered throughout the grueling travel, but there is a lot of sitting, a lot of waiting, and a lot of trying to stay comfortable. Know this: the high points are absolutely, unequivocally worth it. Going out on tour is consistently the highlight of my year, and if you’re ever in a band, find time to do it. Even if it doesn’t make you “big,” you’ll learn a lot about yourself and form some indelible memories.

And as for the theme of this blog, if you’ve read this entire monstrous article, you can see that the Gainesville (and Gainesville music scene) net is thrown very wide, and creates lasting bonds that transcend geographic location.

Thanks for reading,

Chris Hillman

(Editor’s Note: This is part three in a series of diary entries by Chris Hillman of Morningbell from their summer tour across the United States.)

Before we get to the tour diary, I’d like to apologize for the lengthy gap between posts. I am moving and have been without Internet for a couple of weeks. As it turns out, that makes it hard to blog. As my living situation becomes more comfortable the blog will be up and running at normal speed. Thank you for your patience and enjoy the post!

Pittsburgh, PA to New York, NY

The next day was a short (thank God!) drive to Pittsburgh, where we stayed with Travis and Eric’s cousin Brandon. That night we played at the biggest venue yet, and the sound man was very friendly and skilled. A particular plus about this guy is that he played Talking Heads between sets instead of doom and sludge metal, like EVERY OTHER sound guy does. In the morning we were off to drive to Doylestown (straight across PA) after picking up a new tripod and hard drive for Joel and making a trip to the post office for me.

Doylestown is usually my favorite stop, and this trip was no exception. We are friends with one of the sculptors of the southeast PA music scene, Mike Pfeiffer. He runs a recording studio out of a converted barn built on property with an 18^thcentury home where he lives with his wife and kids. The property, house, and studio combine to form one of the most beautiful and creative environments I’ve ever seen. Pictures do not do it just, I’ve learned, but the effect this place has on me is one of awe.

I still took pictures.

The studio.

View from inside the 18th Century home.

Mike always throws us a nice little private party/show and invites his friends. They are some of the warmest, most welcoming people I’ve ever met. I set aside the sarcasm and cynicism and turn into a hippie when I’m up there or even talking about it. I can’t help it. Mike himself is a phenomenal and prolific songwriter. He has more musical fire in his body than anyone I’ve ever met.

Mike Pfeiffer performing.

I can’t do proper justice to the wonderful people and places in Doylestown, so I’ll move on to…

Brooklyn.

Travis' ridiculous ensemble.

NYC is always a blast and this trip was certainly no exception. We played in Williamsburg, the heart of hipster country. Peoplewatching is amazing on a weekend afternoon in Williamsburg. Travis contributed too; he was hot so he lifted his T-shirt up around his belly and started doing a dance on Bedford and 6^th. He fit right in.

We met up with my former Alphabet City Bandmate Peter and he took us up to his friend’s roof. It felt very, you know, “New York.” Allenesque. That night we played with yet more musicians from Gainesville, some we knew about (Oh No! And The Tiger Pit, who are absolute MASTERS of their genre) and some we didn’t (Glib, whose drummer was the infamous 3^rd Avenue lemonade stand guy in Gainesville). The show was awesome—I have a lot of friends in NYC and they all came out. Friends from high school, friends from college, other musicians I know up there—we even managed to sneak in some underage friends (shhh!). NYC always makes us feel right at home.

Oh, except we thought we got our car stolen.

The next morning we left our hosts Jason (from Oh No!) and Bethany’s house for some breakfast to find that the car we parked on the street the night before was no longer there. After the initial panic, we realized that in our exhaustion the previous night we had parked in front of a “Don’t even think of parking here” sign and the car had been impounded. Good thing we had the day off—getting the car back would take most of the afternoon.

While Eric and Travis unluckily took the other car to Coney Island to get Travis’s car out of impound, the rest of us set off on foot towards Brooklyn Bridge Park. A few photo opportunities later, we went into pH books in the Dumbo building in downtown Brooklyn and saw Tyra Banks shopping there. I introduced myself to her, though she did not want to take a picture. It was pretty cool to meet an A-lister on our one day in Brooklyn although I wouldn’t call myself a Tyra fan (anymore—her SI Swimsuit Issue covers were pretty awesome). I met up with yet another former Gainesville musician (catching the trend here?), my friend Tess from Oh Fortuna. Travis and Eric returned from the impound lot, and our hosts Jason and Bethany took our parched mouths over to Ceol, an Irish pub where we all drank some nice summer shandies.

Extremely windy self portrait from in front of downtown Manhattan and the Brooklyn Bridge

Afterwards was dinner at the delicious and affordable Bocca Lupo on Henry Street, and then beers and cheesy nostalgic music back at Jason and Bethany’s place. I am not an easily stressed out person, but sometimes NYC can get to me. After we knew the car was okay, that afternoon in Brooklyn wiped all the big city stress away from me and I feel that familiar feeling of wonder toward New York again. If you can make it there, you’ll make it etc.

Stay tuned for the last leg of Morninbell’s trip back through the Southeast. As always, if you have suggestions, story ideas, photos or video from shows you’d like me to post, please feel free to leave a comment or e-mail hearingainesville@gmail.com

(Editor’s Note: This is part two is a series of diary entries from Chris Hillman of Morningbell)

Chicago, IL to Cleveland, OH

The next day was a long haul straight up Illinois to Chicago. I’ll spare you my opinions on American overabundant corn production, but the drive is a little soul-sucking. Chicago, however, is an oasis in the wide golden Midwest. This was the third time we had played this particular venue in Chicago, and the bar and stage staff remembered us, liked us, and treated us very well. The sound man still uses his Morningbell carabiner. Another lesson I’ve picked up on the road is if the venue staff tells you they like your band, you’re on to something. These are people who listen to 3 bands a night, often 4-5 nights a week, and they are jaded. We played with a friend from Gainesville, Tim Hazen, formerly of popular Gainesville band Maxwell Edison. There are little pockets of the Gainesville music scene all around the country, and it’s nice to see familiar faces on the road.

After the show, we were all tired and headed to the floor for the night which was in Travis’s friend Jimmy’s apartment downtown next to the Hancock building and one block from Lake Michigan. Jimmy did not pick up his phone, and we thought we were stuck (well, I wasn’t worried since I had secured alternate lodgings. More on that in a moment). Travis, white suit-clad, sweet talked the door man into letting us up to Jimmy’s apartment where it seemed like everyone was either not home or passed out from partying. It turned out to be the latter. The rest of the band and Joel inflated their air mattresses and prepared the couches. No one woke up. At that time, I received a call from my friend David who lives with his boyfriend in a very nice building two doors down. While my bandmates were crammed on a floor surrounded by empty beer cans, I would apparently have David and Dirk’s extra apartment to myself—2500 square feet in a Mies Van Der Rohe-designed building on Lake Shore Drive, with floor to ceiling views of the downtown skyline and Lake Michigan—not to mention a tour of their place, with one of Chicago’s finest private collections of modern art.

This is me in front of just one of the spectacular windows at David and Dirk’s extra apartment in Chicago.

This is just one corner of the bathroom where I got to sleep. ‘Nuff said.

Downtown Chicago from the top of the Hancock building.

The next day, David took me to the one place I wanted to see in Chicago, the Chicago Music Exchange. It’s one of the biggest vintage guitar dealers in the Midwest and apparently where Jeff Tweedy shops a lot. It made Guitar Center look like a condemned Chuck E. Cheese’s.That place was like Guitar Mecca and the staff were super nice. Chicago, I’d move to you if you weren’t so cold half the year. That’s probably a good way to keep out the riff-raff like me.

That night was Bloomington, IN. It was Memorial Day Monday so our hopes were not too high, but the venue and attendance in Bloomington were probably my favorite of the whole trip. Bloomington is a college town like Gainesville, but it’s prettier, friendlier, and better-planned. This was our second time in Bloomington, and we have made some lasting musical friendships there. Simon of Kentucky Nightmare and David of The Delicious showed us exactly what Bloomington is about and for that we are grateful. Look up those bands.

Daniel and Jessi’s house in Bloomington with Morningbell sleeping arrangements.

In Bloomington we stayed with friends of mine, Daniel and his girlfriend Jessi. Daniel is another former Gainesville musician; he was the drummer for the incredible and long-lived post-punk band Giuseppe, and one of the best drummers I’ve ever met. It was nice to have someone to talk shop with and Daniel and Jessi have a lovely home and a hilarious cat.

We hung around in Bloomington as long as we could and did some shopping in the downtown square. There was a terrific bookstore, and the owners enjoyed the novelty of having a touring band come visit so much that they put up our video on their Facebook page. Or maybe because we each spent about $50 in their store…

This was the drive to Ohio

Columbus, OH hit us with an unscheduled venue change due to flooding, but we made the best of it and played a good show even though we were a little out of our element at an obvious punk rock dive bar. The Simpsons pinball machine made it okay. We stayed with yet another former Gainesvillian and current OSU medical student, Brian Bello, who had green hair and therefore fit in at the venue better that we did.

The next day was Cleveland. We visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, which admits touring bands for free as long as you give them a CD!

There were a lot of cool exhibits there including some very impressive Lennon memorabilia (John Lennon’s old Rickenbacker, a pair of his round glasses, his passport, the suit he wore on the cover of Sgt. Pepper) but my favorite was a collection of drawings Jimi Hendrix did when he was about 8-13 years old. They were mostly of USC and Oregon football players in mid-stride. I thought it was cute that the very poster child for the counterculture movement of the 60s was all into sports growing up.

Photography was not allowed inside the museum, but here I am outside the building.

The venue in Cleveland had a freaking quarterpipe in the same room as the stage. It was awesome. As we were loading in, a group of drunk skaters were hitting the ramp, and when I took out my camera they started hitting it harder, with mostly hilarious results.During a theremin solo in our set, Travis jumped off stage in his white suit and ran through the crowd and up the ramp, making it back barely in time to strap his guitar back on. Gotta love those spontaneous moments.

Stay tuned for part three of the series when we follow Morningbell to “The Big Apple.” And always tell your friends about Hear in Gainesville!