Hyde Street Heyday

look, ma, no computer




Dan, after the drum machine showed up


big rods












Maria Taylor spent a day with us. they decided to sing, standing, by the corner of the piano. protocol, I guess.




there has to be a morning after


photos by will, except for the out-of-focus one of him.
all rights reserved, et cetera et cetera.

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

Ireland to Scotland (still talking 'bout love)

Let's preface this by apologizing for falling so far behind on our blog. We're still covering the beginning stages of the tour. Which were memorable nonetheless, like so:

You should really see our van. It's quaint. The sort of thing you'd see gun-toting Libyans riding in, through a sawed-out hole in the roof. So imagine it, day 1, in the Northern Irish countryside, running out of fuel. Facing uphill. Our driver/sound guy/handler Gavin, who really is a swell guy, rolls the van backwards downhill (into oncoming traffic, no less) - our only option - so we can back it into a driveway. And it was then that we all, save Gavin behind the wheel, got out. To push. So we get it going, and then the adrenaline rush to end all adrenaline rushes: running after the van, it moving at increasing speeds, and jumping in though the side door. First Jared and then Will running-jumped in, then finally, imagine Rob chasing a van down a hill, full bore, trying to hold his pants up with one hand. And oh yeah, the side door doesn't open from the inside, and it had slid closed, so Tim had to lean out the front window and finagle open the door so Rob could finally dive in. Straight outta Little Miss Sunshine. And a serious adrenaline rush. Stupid GPS.

Anyway, from there, took a ferry from Belfast to Scotland. Then we got our nature boners up on a drive up the Scotish coast, the most sighttastic to date. Since then, of course, it's been those nondescript British motorways that look like you could be in California, except there are sheep and medieval castles on the side of the road. Glasgow, Manchester, Leeds, Oxford, Birmingham - different towns, same British Travelodges, same music videos.

Tomorrow = day off in gay ol' Paris. Eat it.