26 December 2008

for your viewing pleasure: live at Amoeba

Another nugget from the recent-history vault! This was/is our lil in-store performance at Amoeba Records in Hollywood, back on October 2, capturing that very brief (and bleary) moment between the Dandy Warhols tour and our trip to London. If memory serves me right - and according to the video, it does - we got an early start that day. Many thanks to everybody at Amoeba for doing such a damned incredible job with this. I suspect they cut the "throngs of adoring shoppers" footage from the Paul McCartney in-store. So, yeah, thanks.

The performance:

and the interview:

and also a photo gallery.

So watch this for a few days, and come back for more while-we-were-out media.

happy holidays,
the dudes

18 December 2008

the other two ways out video

Check out our recently-unearthed 1981 appearance on German television...

and then there's the interview too. It's a shame you can't see or hear off-camera rock journalism icon/former Creem editor Dave DiMartino, whose said some really amazing things in what was kinda the best interview we've had in recent memory (as you can see here, the fella knows what he's doing).

17 December 2008

L.A. by sunrise

We just passed the first highway sign for LA. So close we can smell it. Yet even though this is the prize we've had our eyes on for the last 5 weeks, cold feet's creepin' in. Not sitting in this van for hours for the first time tomorrow will be jarring, and the compulsion to go to a club around 5 and set shit up will surely be deafening. Tour withdrawal. Weird.

Also, the Strangelove stickers finally came in. Here's one we plastered on a backstage wall, which is the most surefire way to ensure your band will stand the test of time. Email us your checking account info and we'll probably put one aside for ya.

15 December 2008

You can't always get what you want

It's only fair that Priceline would eventually dump us in some post-apocalyptic tenement camp sooner or later, to appease the hotel gods and karmically account for the palatial accommodations we've been scoring on the cheap for the last month. And what better place to do that than Baton Rouge. In case you were thinking of staying there, here are some observations on the Extended Stay America hotel on beautiful Corporate Blvd.:

Your first impression is the hotel staff. Combative and unfeeling, it's your first encounter with a trend you'll experience fully in your stay in town: nobody cares. Living to fight another day is top priority here, and that doesn't involve making sure your stranger ass is comfortable. The second thing you notice is that your room key doesn't work. You notice this because you can't open the door. So you go back to the front desk. You think about taking the stairs, but you fear you'll run into a week-old corpse, so you don't. Then the third thing you notice is the tawdry, melodramatic porno-style "oh-my-god-yes-don't-stop" moaning coming from room 328. Sure, it's hot, more or less, but it'll give you second thoughts about sleeping in your bed later. The lady shows up to let you in the room, advising that if you need to leave the room at some point, to just prop the door open, it'll be fine, and that's when you're knocked on your back by the fourth thing you notice, which is that the room smells exactly like a Long John Silver's bathroom. Reeks, to the point of suffocation. It's too cold to open the windows, so you turn the wall-unit fan on, until you notice it's full of Chee-tos and cigarette butts, so you turn it off. Then you notice too late that there's no toilet paper, and when you move to call the front desk, you notice the phone doesn't work. Not that you would wanna put your face anywhere near that thing. You look under the bed to make sure it's plugged in, which it is, but you stop looking as soon as you notice one solitary Dorito resting on top of a bar of half-used soap. You're tempted to just wipe your ass on the wall like everyone else seems to have done, in noticing the sixth or seventh thing, which is that every square inch of surface is smeared with traces of past habitation - schmutz, gunk, greasy handprint here, bloody footprint there. You're glad you didn't bring your black light. You turn on the TV with your sleeve and try to tune all this out to what may or may not have been some Sharon Tate B-movie. The cable's kinda scratchy. You notice the smoke detector's been violently pried from the ceiling. You think about the couple in 328, and you think about sleeping on the floor, until you consider the state of the carpet, so you re-consider the bed, and for some reason get so consumed with the whole thing that you check the sheets for bedbugs, and whaddaya know, you find stems of snapped dry spaghetti and hair commingling, and this is why you brought your sleeping bag: to sleep on the bed, in your own sleeping bag. You don't have any choice but to use their pillow, so you suck it up and lie awake, face-up, unable to breathe, because you're sleeping in a Long John Silver's bathroom.

All hope that things will be different in the outside world will be dashed in the morning. At Starbucks, the counter lies beneath a half-inch of standing water, and no one cares. The guy in front of you pleads for them not to make his drink with milk, which elicits the response of "we don't make it with milk, we add it after." The clerk at the convenience store combatively insists that she is not charging you significantly more than the advertised price, doesn't care to check, and doesn't care what you think. You ask the cashier at McDonald's how she's doing, and she looks you dead in the eyes and asks "do you really wanna know?"

You don't need this blog to rehash how and why things reached this point and how to fix them. If you're looking for the short end of the stick, it's here. And really, you can't entirely blame these people for being focused on little more than their own day-to-day survival. Shit's bleak.

09 December 2008

other people on television

There are two things that keep us going, that rouse us each morning (or, when possible, midday). Number one is the promise of soothing hotel television at the end of the day. Number two is, well... there is no number two.
So in keeping with our series of portraits of us on closed-circuit television, here's a brief collection of other people on open-circuit hotelevision, snapped by our resident hotelevision photographer, Jared Everett.

The abominable snowman.

Indeterminately-accented Prophet Kim "Nevertheless" Clements, pictured above with weird shriveled baby hand.

Liberace - that "deadly, winking, sniggering, snuggling, chromium-plated, scent-impregnated, luminous, quivering, giggling, fruit-flavoured, mincing, ice-covered heap of mother love" (to quote the incomparable Daily Mirror columnist Cassandra) - ca. 1980. Not pictured: the cage of 7 Asian youths under the stage actually making all that music.

And, of course, the aforementioned photographer, On Demand.

01 December 2008

19 days

It's December 1st. We have 19 days left....to live.

28 November 2008

When Black Friday comes, I'm gonna wear no socks and shoes

You may have noticed the dearth of, like, good photos and videos and the like thus far on this tour. Well, that's because our tour mother/lightshow maven/hijink chronicler/band confidante Malia has ditched us for the greener pastures of the Marnie Stern minivan (and also because Tim keeps conveniently forgetting to take his digital camera out of the back of the van so we can do some more of those sweet-ass 3 a.m. hotel time-lapse videos). She will grace us with her toured-out-to-the-brink-of-a-breakdown self for 5 glorious nights on the east coast next week, which might just result in some professionally-produced media for this blog, as well as a shoulder for each of us to sob uncontrollably on.

In the meantime, she just posted a buncha, like, actual photos from ye olde Dandy Warhols tour. They're very good, not completely flattering, and totally entertaining. Please go look at them, right H E R E.

Happy Thanksgiving!

26 November 2008


Tonight's our 9th consecutive show. Columbus, Ohio. Tomorrow's the day, tonight's the night. Our one day off over the course of 5 weeks: tomorrow. We've spent the whole tour saving up for a nice bed and a full plate of food. Oh, and it's, like, Thanksgiving or something. A real happy one to you.

23 November 2008

20 November 2008

North Platte Redux

Last time we were in North Platte, Nebraska, (see 9/8/08 or so) we got lured into the Exit 177 Conoco, which billed itself has having the "best looking cashiers" (in addition to selling gun permits). It didn't. Well, now we're back. Some things never change. This time the very same (down to the attire) Korn-capped cashier agreed to be documented. So, we present The Best Looking Cashier in North Platte, Nebraska:

Then there was Amigos. Crispy Steak Burrito. Said the cashier (not as good-looking), re: burrito:
"You'll really feel it the next day."
So I got it.

19 November 2008

Strange Love: Two Bands, One Love

According to USA Today 2 days ago (or, USA 2 Days Ago), within the last 2 weeks, 55% of consumers say they've cut back markedly on spending. And of that 55%, 81% say they specifically are cutting back on concerts. Just in time for our tour.

So in light of the souring economy, and for your concertgoing convenience, we'd like to announce that for some/most/all/none of the rest of the tour, and most/not likely for years to come, we and The Strange Boys will be consolidating our sets into one exhilarating 9-man, 4-guitar, triple-lead vocal, dual-bass, dual-drum set. The name of this act will be called Strange Love. This will have a domino effect on costs, resulting in lower ticket prices, not to mention:
• No more boring downtime between sets.
• Less merch to buy.
• More eye candy.
• Better songs.

See you real soon!
Strange Love

17 November 2008

remember London?

Alternate title: Jared Went To London and Brought Some of Us With Him.
This is what it looked like, in a blur.

with our diminutive friend Maceo. note that even the hot dog/ice cream trucks in England are Sprinters.

dude buys a pork pie. a later cause of great distress.

photos by Lil Willy, again.

Otherwise: we're in Seattle. Somebody (possibly Oakland underground hip-hop duo Zion I, we-think previous van occupants) harvested the nitro that makes the turbo boosters fire in our even-more-conspicuous 2008 model space shuttle/van - that is, the thing doesn't do hills - so we're on standby here getting it fixed. The good news is that, boy, this Priceline thing is no hoax! Next time you go on a vacation, throw all that "planning" to the wind and name-your-own-price hours before your reach your destination. Think low.

More from the road later.

15 November 2008

It's 3 a.m. I must be lonely

So tour has started again. We played last night at The Independent in SF. It was a major bro-zone. Not only did The Strange Boys meet up to shed and shred queso all over the U.S. with us, but the Crystal Antlers were up in the bay recording their new long player. Anyway we're still driving to Portland. It's foggy...... and shitty. Oh, and our new book on CD isn't nearly as good as our last. IMO.

See you soon,

10 November 2008

wild wild life

Our travels allow us to see parts of our country most people never get to.

photos by W.P. Canzoneri

07 November 2008


It was Halloween. At the Natural History Museum. In one of those long halls filled with clearly-real animals in their natural habitats. And you know, I was really hoping someone/anyone out there wouldn't've biffed the golden opportunity to document us playing in front of those endless purple mountain-capped plains where the buffalo roam, dressed to the nine-ninety-nines as fast food, performing a little album called Nevermind in its wait-really?-holy-shit entirety. I thought maybe we could wow you, internet denizen, to kingdom come, where we'd live on our own planet together forever, with some sweet footy of us plowing through "Breed" or totally botching "Lithium" or some shit. But no, you'll probably never get to see Tim Presley as Transgendered French Fries curtly kicking Kurt Cobain off stage so he, not Kurdt, could sing "Come As You Are."

So instead, here's this picture of Jared playing the big Halloween Dance in your high school gym a long time ago:

(Courtesy the very sweet girl from our label who did take pictures.)

Next Halloween, we'll be playing, like, Promises Malibu, where we'll cover Vangelis's best and most underrated album, 1979's China. Man.

Or, if you prefer the Spiral cover more, I suppose we'd consider that. Oh well. Whatever. Nevermind.

30 October 2008

Happy Hallows Eve Eve!

Tomorrow night's the big Halloween show at the Natural History Museum. We've been working on some new tunes, which you'd probably really like and probably already do, which we're gonna play, which would all be great if you could come, but I guess it's "sold out," even though it's free. More like maxed out. You can, however, listen to Indie 103 all day and all night to try to win tickets. Costumes required. By us.

Let's see... what else...

We've been lucky nuff to have our songs featured in a number of television programmes lately. So if you regularly watch hour-long cable TV dramas, and you thought you heard us, you're right. Good ear.

And don't forget about that tour. It's still happening. Those tour dates are still right over there. To the right. Please come to all the shows.

In the meantime, enjoy these:


Rob and an old friend. Taco John's. Nowhere, Kansas. Small world.

20 October 2008

this was what america looked like (part 3)

The final installment. So, you know, we can get back to words n shit.

Malibu vs. Iowa

The Breakfast King. If you're ever hungry, in Denver, and it's before noon or so, go here.

Aspen, in several colors.

Look again.

these were taken by Will.

18 October 2008

this is what america looks like in black + white (part 2)

Here's more of said photos. If you didn't see part 1, then, duh, it's below.

The Dandy Warhols in Toronto



The Dandys lightshow

Ghosts, man.

Meet the greatest 3-and-three-quarters-year-old ever to have lived. Pictured with boyfriend.

Aspen, without all that distracting color bullshit.

...and a long road home.

Photos still by W.P. Canzoneri