The night is old* (2:54 a.m. to be exact) and we â Joe, Phil
and myself â are driving down the long dark road to Langerado. The wee hour
traffic is scarce, weâre still running on adrenaline from the Disco Biscuits
show at The Bank, and relief at not having to face a four-hour drive in the
morning is palpable. The 8 a.m. morning, that is. Because we donât wanna go to
a Bisco show, party down, go home and pass out, get up too early and without
enough rest to face four hours on the road. Our technique is much better: Go to
tonightâs show, drink water not beer, leave the show, load the car, and head to
our final destination without delay. This way we wake up refreshed and ready to
take on ⦠whatever needs to be taken on, I guess.
Disco Buscuits bass player Marc Brownstein
The Disco Biscuits show at The Bank was sold out by the time
we arrived, the back parking lot full, Central Avenue lined with cars, and a
crowd of will-callers and ticket hopefuls milling in front of the entrance.
Inside, the club was jam packed, the air thick with smoke and warm with sweat from the
press of bodies. Crowding in the main room, the largely male crowd continued to
dance, drink and sweat. It was fantastic to see a great, undervalued venue like
The Bank filled to capacity.
The Langerado buzz was everywhere, and I walked into myriad
conversations about the fest. The party leading to Langerado got rolling early,
and new schoolers (the kids who donât know how to pace themselves) were
scattered about the bar in various states of fucked up. But this meant, as Joe
said, that there was something entertaining to watch everywhere you turned.
We left at set break so we could at least guarantee getting
into Laudie before 6 a.m. And thus far, weâre on schedule. With Joe driving,
and Phil riding shotgun and sitting in as DJ, I plan on counting mile markers
until Sufjan Stephens or Trey Anastasio or Brian Eno or whoever sings me to
sleep. (Road trips are, in my humble opinion, one of the main reasons to have,
and enjoy, an iPod.)
*Thursday night, Friday morning â this was written on the
road and I would have diligently posted it when we got in at around 5:15 a.m.,
but decided the task seemed too daunting at the time. Today, we head to the
Sound Check blissfully rested.