live through this

And now, selections from the remainder of the film from Ye Olde Britannia Tour, circa June 2010. Relive the summer fun:




on the Irish Sea






Irishmen


North Sea. You'd think we spent the whole tour at the beach.




Bob & Laura. They've since eloped.








on Dean's farm, Leighton Buzzard


Band of Horses, Wolverhampton






tour photo. Featuring our most gracious hostess Elaine, and the Brothers Lynch (far right).



photos by will

light flight

Glahz-guh


this was at like 10:30 p.m.




it's tough being the support band


seafaring, more or less


Irish Sea






Little John's buried here




the farm, Leighton Buzzard




croqueheads


Young Mick, Young Bono, Young Keith Moon, Young Sting, Fat John Martyn and 2/5 of Darker My Love have all rinsed their hands and dried them off on their trousers here.


photos by will

through the dark wicket

Croquetmania has bitten the band. We'll be importing it to the states - namely, Elysian Park - in short order, to be played on one of the days we're not already meeting at Burger King at 7 am to play gin rummy 500.


croquet

Stayed 2 nights at our new friend Dean's honest-to-Jehu farm in semirural Leighton Buzzard (which is a town, and somehow not the name of a forgotten 70's British metal band). Made peace with cows, played sherpa with sheep, grilled mackerel and pork shoulder and adopted croquet, or our own version of it, until long after dark, and again at the crack of dawn. Didn't watch any World Cup. It made us feel good.


good morning!

Now we're in Wolverhampton, scene of our last show with Band of Horses. They're dudes of the best variety - genuine, beer-battered country-fried ones - and we wish them the best of luck on their journey.


Roundhouse


for Keith

swift kick

London Roundhouse tonight. This place is big and badass. Also, round.

Managed (barely) to escape Manchester last night, but failed to allot enough time this morning to visit the scene of Rick Allen's limb-severing.
(scenes:)


That's the chocolate!

Ireland

We have to cryogenically freeze Jared before every show to prevent chop deterioration. It's on our rider.


Irish Sea. Leprechauns, Lucky Charms, etc., etc.


John, our moral support agent and driver, view'd through Malahide Castle. While built in the 12th century and occupied by the same family for 800 years, it's frozen in 1975, when the old lady that lived there alone retired to Tasmania. Plush carpeting, wallpaper, the musty smell of isolation in the 1970's. We played American football on the front lawn. Tim/Jared 28, Rob/Will 21.

another day, another metal show

So we needed to play a warmup show. We've been practicing in a cramped room at Rob's house all month and needed to get our stage legs before these big Band of Horses shows and all. Which is why we found ourselves flying into Glasgow (pronounced Glahz-guh) and playing at the venerable King Tut's Wah-Wah Hut, site of Alan McGee's discovery of Oasis in 1993. Only thing is, we were on a bill with 3 prog-hardcore/bordering-on-grindcore metal bands, the likes of which haven't been seen stateside since 2000. That was ten years ago. One of them had a live hawk on stage, wearing a headset, screeching at key moments. Or at least that's what it sounded like from 2 floors up. All this just when we've practically exorcised all the fuzz from our set. We even almost got the elusive no-clap after a song, until somebody broke the silence in pitiful fashion. It didn't get dark until 11. The whole thing was fucked up and retarded as shit, and we'd like to thank our booking agent.

Otherwise, while we did get to taste the National Canned Beverage of Scotland - Irn Bru (pictured below) - which tastes exactly like bubble gum from a pack of last year's Topps baseball cards, we didn't manage to get thee to a chippie for another Glasgow classic, the deep fried Mars Bar. Because what donuts are to Chinese restaurants in LA, deep fried Mars Bars are to fish-n-chippies in Glasgow. As in hey, we got this deep fryer, might as well use it.

British Isles Summer Fun!

Provided a giant plume of volcanic ash doesn't obstruct our flight path, we're spending our June soaking up the cosmic rays (or, rather, building a vitamin D deficiency):

6.02. Glasgow. King Tut's Wah Wah Hut
6.04. Dublin. Tripod (w/ Band of Horses)
6.05. Belfast. Auntie Annie's
6.06. Middlesbrough Music Live
6.07. Cambridge. The Junction (w/ Band of Horses) [SOLD OUT]
6.08. Manchester. Ritz (w/Band of Horses) [SOLD OUT]
6.09. London. Roundhouse (w/ Band of Horses) [SOLD OUT]
6.10. London. Boston Music Rooms (w/ Serena-Maneesh)
6.11. Oxford. O2 Academy (w/ Band of Horses) [SOLD OUT]
6.12. Southampton. Lennons
6.13. Leeds. Nation of Shopkeepers
6.14. Wolverhampton. Wulfrun Hall (w/ Band of Horses)
6.15. London. Scala (w/ Ariel Pink)
6.17. London. The Lexington

Including:
6 shows with Band of Horses!
5 headlining shows and/or club nights!
2 ferries!
1 show with Serena-Maneesh!
1 show with Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti!
1 festival!



Stay tuned for more...!!!

Europe Redux

For starters, we're back. The tapes and our stuff and our bodies made it back intact to the harsh reality that is real life, post-Rock N Roll Fantasy Camp. So now, while we're waiting patiently for our Major Label to decide what they think of our new record and which song they're gonna lube up and slip down the gullet of mainstream rock radio, entertain yourselves with this recently-excavated footage from the fall (as in, a few months ago), when drove ourselves around Europe, broken up into two EZ-bufferin' clips.


part 1


part 2

Europe: Days 1-15

Won a sweepstakes for a free monthlong trip to Europe for you and your 4 closest friends, so to make some extra spending money we put a band together and made up some songs and played a buncha shows with a band called White Lies in many old European theatres for many European teenagers and/or their European parents and the rest of the time did this:


Day 1: Amsterdam. Killing time until it gets dark so we can go to sleep.


Day 2: Driving to Eindhoven. First show. Late.


Day 3: Paradiso, Amsterdam. Still trying to learn songs.


Day 4: Jail, Rotterdam. This was where we figured out that we don't like putting sheets on our own beds.


Day 5: Dan makes a friend in Alkmaar (celebrating 750 years!)


Our picnic in Alkmaar. Thanks to the fine folks at Subway.


Day 6: Teylers Museum, Haarlem. Working hard.


(see above)


St. Bavo's Cathedral, Haarlem. 10-year old Mozart played that organ. So did Handel, except he wasn't 10.


Day 7: Brugge (Bruges). Frites'ed up before we even left the train station.


Brugge Cruise


Day 8: de Noordzee in Oostende, where Marvin Gaye wrote "Sexual Healing." You can see why.


French hackin', outside McDonald's, somewhere in Picardie (look closely).


Day 9: us in like 5 years.


Day 10: Paris. Tim thought the housekeeper stole his iPod. Turns out she didn't.


Day 11: Cimetière du Père-Lachaise, Paris, home of Jim.




Parisian bum eating McDonald's

Day 12: previously documented here


Day 13: Luxembourg


Day 14


Halloween in Luxembourg


Band photo, featuring unknown creepy guy, possibly Gene Simmons (at left)



photos by Will