Over the next few months,  a dozen+ alt-rock bands get added to the bill, J Mascis miraculously agrees, and soon I’m booking my berth aboard the Bonkers Boat for the inaugural Weezer Cruise.

Setting sail January 19-23 from Miami to Mexico, the theory was that 2500 indie rock fans and 15 bands would hit the high seas, get drunk, listen and play music and generally party. The reality? Yeah, that. So in order to facilitate, I became Julie Cruise Director for Lou and Sebadoh (Sebadoh had three gigs, Lou SEVEN) and kinda “tour” managed the band’s way onto the ship.

I mean, how could I NOT be on the boat? I’m mates/acquaintances with a third of the bands who’d be on board: Dinosaur Jr, London, England’s Yuck, San Diego’s Nervous Wreckords and Brooklyn’s The Antlers, among ‘em. Plus Boom Bip, Wavves, Free Energy, Ozma, The Knocks, Sleeper Agent AND our friend Andy from Wye Oak, who was coming just for fun? Uh, yeah. This was going to be a boat of such indie-rockness, it’d be amazing if it didn’t sink from awesome.

Let’s set sail, shall we?

We begin, the night before, in ghost-town down-town Miami at a cool club called Grand Central, where Sebadoh are playing. There’s a pre-Cruise party upstairs, and we try to go for food but find out from local bands Plains and Jacuzzi Boys that the next best restaurant is too many blocks away (WTF Miami? You are SO weird), so Lou and my cabin-mate Terri and I have to order in sushi from a local joint. It’s dodgy, but none of us puke on stage or off. Win?

“We haven’t played together in three months” Lou says from the stage, “so welcome to our rehearsal.” But it doesn’t sound like that all – shhh don’t tell anyone, but the Sebadudes are tiiiight. Afterwards I snap the above pic of the band with promoter Mario, then we all bundle into a mini van. Gods bless him, Dinosaur Jr’s tour manager extraordinaire Dan has come to collect us and take us back to the hotel.

Cruise Day. I run into Max Bloom from Yuck ambling past the hotel pool, but my number-one priority is basically getting Lou & Co on the boat. Once I get ‘em on board, I can relax and begin the long, arduous task of getting drunk. I feel like a sheepdog in the lobby trying to herd everyone, including wives and gear, on the Artist Shuttle. BUT WE MAKE IT TO THE CARNIVAL DESTINY. Reeee-zult.

But our rooms aren’t ready yet! Boo! Lou grumbles about how the rest of Dino didn’t have to come until later and I make a joke about the Lou Barlow Jealousy Vortex – the one where he disappears into a hole of envy at his own other band. But we’re all pretty stoked anyway and hang out on the Lido Deck, babbling varieties of “HOLY CRAP! I’M ON A BOAT!!!”, “WHAT THE FUCK?”, “JESUS, I’M HOT”, “UGH, THIS RUM-BASED DRINK IS TOTALLY TOO SWEET” and “CAN YOU WATCH MY STUFF?”. I am in charge of watching stuff. That’s Lou’s bass, above. I’ve got my eye on you, Lou’s Bass. Don’t make any sudden moves, ‘cos I’m really preoccupied by the fact that I’M ON A BOAT!

Soon it’s time to find our rooms. En route, we run into the rest of the lovelies in Yuck who drop their gear to hug us. I adopt them, and they adopt me. We’re a funny-looking family.

Marvel at the splendour of our “stateroom” and bask in its cheap hotel room feel! We do. We also marvel at the fact that right up until push-off, there was a dude outside PAINTING our window and that during the cruise, someone seems to enjoy banging  above or below us at 8am on mornings when we got to bed at 6am. But nevermind. This room will see little action except for towel animals, when I wake up half-naked with my contact lenses in, and when I fall backwards off the bed.

At 4pm sharpish, we’re all supposed to meet at a “Muster Station” – an area we’re assigned to go to in the event of an emergency. Bands, including Weezer, line up next to fans, and we cozy up with Andy from Wye Oak. That’s Andy.

We run into Brian Karscig and his band in the production office . Brian used to be in rad band Louis XIV, and is now the chief of equally rad band Nervous Wreckords. Brian and I go way back to a night in Vancouver when we all got drunk on the tour bus (read about that, here on their blog) and I taught him how to use teh Twitters. He now has a band of good-looking people who make good-sounding rock choons. I’m excited to finally see this incarnation – and I do, twice. That’s Brian on deck in his uniform: black, hat, and beard, as we’re all awaiting…

….WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZER! Holy shit I can’t believe they’re doing “Hash Pipe” first! I can go home now. No wait, I can’t..I’M ON A BOAT!

Would you look at that adorable nerdy guitar solo face? Oh, Rivers. I’m sorry if I ever doubted you and told people I was basically going on the Lou Cruise. Weezer, you’re kind of really good.

This is the new thing. Never mind cam-phones. How about an iPAD in your face, Scott?

Yeah, so Rivers dons a captain’s hat and goes for a walk in the grinning crowd. Did his trousers rip or summat? Check out the little girl’s face behind him. But this is a fun moment. I’m wedged dead centre by the sound tent and Rivers basically straddles his way up the pole while singing the hits. (It was the Hits and Blue show – Pinkerton and rareties would come later.)

And what, pray tell, is Rivers gunning for? THAT. THE GIANT BLUE WATERSLIDE. Which he promptly climbs. (Note the drummer: that’s Josh Freese, who is, basically, the best US rock session drummer everrr. He’s stellar and pinch-hitting so Patrick Wilson can play guitar. Freese is so good that even Murph from Dinosaur Jr  tells me he wants to meet him.)

So Rivers gets to the top of the waterslide, the sun is starting to set on his face, and I’m guessing someone asked him if he could touch his tongue to his nose?

And there’s the sunset. Nice! So long, Vice City! See you in a couple of days! Following Weezer’s set, we wander  trying to get our bearings, and eat the buffet. And in no time, it’s time for….

…SeBADoh to confuse all the mainstream Weezer fans and delight all the hardcore fanboys with their raucous melodipunk! (Or indie rock, whatever.)

This is officially one of my fave pictures of Sebadoh’s Jason Loewenstein, aside from this one with his pet pig Emmett. This is also Jason Loewenstein rocking out. He does that. I mean, seriously, have you HEARD the track “Careful” and all the other ones he belts? Gah. LOVE.

Love this pic of Lou, too, even though he’s already complained to me about the double chin. And the crowd’s pretty ace. You gotta hand it to the devotees for showing up to Seb’s first of three shows on t’boat. Is that Max from Yuck watching? And acclaimed music journo Brian J. Bowe (author of books on Judas Priest, the Ramones AND the Clash, writer/editor for Creem and SO MUCH MORE)? And “the Indie Rock Professor” (no, really, she’s an anthropologist who specializes in indie rock) Wendy Fonorow? YUP, all watching. I mean, seriously, when is this much cool going to be on a ship together again?

Oh hai, Bob D’Amico, drummer and Animal (the Muppet) for Sebadoh! I like to describe him as the punk-rock Marlboro Man. He doesn’t smoke, though. He’s too cool.

But soon! It’s time to pry ourselves from the Lido Deck and go find a bucket of beer in the big venue, the Palladium, where there’s comfy seats, waiters and a ploosh front-row vantage point for these guys:

Oh, Antlers. How I love you and your albums Hospice and Burst Apart. Peter’s voice sounds stunning, per usual. I last saw/met The Antlers at Music Fest Northwest in Portland, where me and the gang were imagining what it’d be like on the Cruise, and if Wavves would be the ones who’d be bringing the pot onboard. (Not saying a word, here.)

Darby Antlers is kind of ridiculously handsome (good ‘boardist too, hell, everything about the Antlers is amazing) but…

…drummer Michael Lerner is my buddy. Also handsome. He gives good drum face. Musically? You can’t really fault anything tonight. Because we have a bucket of beer. And Antlers are like 10 feet in front of me.

Shortly after, with only a half-hour in between sets, Mr. Lou Barlow steps offstage on the Lido Deck with Sebadoh and directly onstage at the Palladium with…

….Dinosaur Jr! Not the tightest musically, but I gotta say, this is the most eventful and rocking Dino show I’ve ever been at. Not only is Barlow playing at Warp Factor Bass God (no, really, everyone’s mouths are hanging open and for a guy who’s JUST PLAYED, he’s going INSANE on stage), but J is throwing some minor rock poses AND HIS HAIR GETS IN HIS FACE! That’s when you know he’s really letting loose (see below). Seriously, this was quite awesome. And he’s even chatty! “I’d like to thank Weezer, ‘cos without them I woulda never met the Fonz”, drawls the White Wizard, while Scott and Patrick from Weezer look on.

… But that’s not all! There’s a drunk/stoned couple next to us throwing shapes in the aisles so emphatically they have to be escorted back to their seats five times by the tolerant security guards. Back at their seats, dude puts his hand in his missus’ shirt and pulls her boob out. Fun! Then he falls on his girlf and they both get gently escorted out. At which point, another dude tries to stagedive during “Feel the Pain” into the 2nd row, lands on the back of the (at least padded) bench, and splits open his face. It’s a MONSTER of a show, and actually one of my faves.

But that’s STILL not all! We all pile backstage after, and Lou’s missus, Kath, is screaming: OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODTHEREWASACOUPLEINROWSIXWHOWEREHAVING…….SEX! We think it’s the same couple from before who’d come back, ‘cos apparently he had her bent over the bench, thrusting during “Forget the Swan.” Kath’s traumatized. Note to self: Do not sit in the sixth row for Weezer’s Pinkerton show. Even J smiles at the news about the audience participation/sexytime.

Then a couple of us head out to the Lido Deck for Brian Bell from Weezer’s Midnight Movie. Young Frankenstein? ALL KINDS OF HELL YES. *Applauds* We hang with Murph, walk past J at the back of the boat looking at the wake of the black water whilst hanging with his band friends, Sweetapple, talk about the show for a bit and admire all the folks in lounge chairs under blankets. Nice one. But by this time we’re drunk and hungry (drunkgry?) and LO AND BEHOLD, the “New York Deli” onboard is open until 3am. I get a sandwich and pile my plate high with pickles, then run into…

…THIS GUY. This is the adorbs Daniel from Yuck, who’s hanging around with bandmates Max and Mariko in the restaurant, where they’re availing themselves of the hot drinks. I tease them mercilessly about being English and needing a cuppa tea, but Daniel insists he’s having coffee. They’re deliciously tipsy and Daniel follows us around. “I”m just going to follow you around,” he says as we walk by Mascis (we do a lot of walking past J Mascis over the course of four days), whom he goes to thank for letting Yuck open for Dino on the return show in Miami. I can’t watch. I have this thing where every time a fan or ANYONE approaches J, I have to look away ‘cos I’m afraid we’ll all die of mutual awkwardness.

As we’re walking around,  plate in hand, we come up on afro’d Yuck drummer Jonny, and Sleeper Agent’s teen singer Alex Kandel. I offer Jonny some of my pickles, which he takes (he’s from Brooklyn, of course!), and Alex slurs at me to come see her band at some point. Uh….whoops.

Soon, it’s time for bed. We get in the room and are greeted by this guy:

Night night, Towel Creature! For tomorrow is another day and I’M ON A BOAT! \m/

STAY TUNED FOR MORE HIJINX ON THE HIGH-SEAS AND DAY 2: “I’m never drinking wine again”.

Last month, Lou Barlow and I sat down over sushi in Seattle – post-soundcheck for Dinosaur Jr – to discuss and chew on what the new year might look like for Sebadoh.

It seems that the trio are actually planning to do some new music. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THIRTEEN YEARS.

For those who’ve rediscovered our indie rock heroes and those old songs from the 90s, this is enormous news.

The band had a busy year – back-to-back-to-back tours of the US-Canada-Europe-Australia-Asia-US again and now on the Weezer Cruise next week – but they’ve been touring albums that were released when grunge was a real word.

So here we are in 2012 and the scoop is this:  When Lou finishes recording and writing with Dinosaur Jr in February, it’ll be go for Sebadoh.  The re-release/remaster of 1987’s Weed Forestin’ will also hit metaphorical shelves (or mailboxes)….

…and yes, Sebadoh will be recording new music. With  a new drummer (Bob D’Amico) and renewed sense of purpose. The time is right, the tide is high, planets are aligned, the drummer’s an Animal, musicians have been trained on how to use social media, and hey, you know, Sebadoh are really kinda awesome…again.

The details as I know it (which is pretty much as much as the band knows at this point):

• Brooklynites Jason  Loewenstein (who reminded us this past year on tour that the songs he writes are even more ENORMOUS than you ever remembered) and Bob will likely be flying out to L.A. to record with Lou in and around April.
• Though this is still under discussion, the album may be fan-funded (in part at least) with possible help from a label. It’s lo-fi, baby, just the way nature intended it.
• If that’s the route they take, there will be all kindsa awesome incentives for fans: maybe some vinyl, limited edition artwork, credits, signed things, possibly even the stuff that dreams are made of. We’ve been asking fans on Facebook (fb.com/realsebadoh) what they’d like to see (first choice: NEW MUSIC) and have been compiling the votes.
• “This will be a good year for writing…I know that,” Lou told me yesterday. Now that he’s got some time back at home, post-holidays with the family, he’s been sitting in his studio strumming and putting ideas down for both Dino and Sebadoh. This. Bodes. Well.
• We’ll need fans’ help to spread the word – got a couple of bucks to put towards do your mates run some really cool blogs? Know any friends at record stores? Do you know how to retweet or post on your Twitter and Facebook? Every little bit will count.
• Release dates? Likely end of year, beginning of next, and the band is expected to head out on the road again in the summer/fall to try out the new stuff.

This is all good news, right? OH YES. I’ll be sailing the high seas with the boys next week on the Weezer Cruise and maybe between margaritas we might firm up some more details, so stay tuned here as always, on Facebook or via Twitter.com/RealSeBADoh.

Sebadoh AHOY! \m/

Anyway! Onward!

I check out the fab boutique hotel, Hotel Max, in Seattle, and find Lou in the lobby, who I am to meet because my Christmas present has come early: rather than get a stinky shuttle bus back to Canada, I have been invited to ride shotgun on the Dinosaur Jr tour bus across the border and with the lads. HONOURED doesn’t even begin to describe it especially as I think there are day-old Top Pot donuts still on the bus. Woo!

In the lobby, we discover a book on “Grunge” by Michael Lavine, whose pics also cover the doors of the fifth floor of the Hotel (I stayed in a Mudhoney room, yay!) and Lou flips through it. “I think there’s a pic of us in here somewhere,” he says and finds one of the three of ‘em looking ridiculously young and long-hairy. I should have taken a pic of Lou holding the book page up but was, I think, still asleep.

We arrive at the bus, and find Murph and Dino’s tour manager extraordinaire (and I do mean extraordinaire, the man is LOVELY and very funny) Dan Mapp in the front lounge with the rest sleeping. J arrives on board shortly after clutching a bunch of Sub Pop t-shirts and retreats to the back. Lou goes to crash out in his bunk while…

…Murph and Dan and I enter into one of 100 different and fascinating conversations about education, children, the Internet, social skills, addiction and probably the state of both our nations. We also use THE BUS WI-FI, woo! Murph tries to convince me that as I’m a social media-type that “we” (he and I) should invent the new Facebook thing so that we can become rich. Murph is only on LinkedIn – of all things, though never checks it – and after countless conversations about Twitter, declares later that he’s overwhelmed by it all.  I like Murph. Me and Lou want him to go on Twitter so we can retweet his stuff under the heading “Shit Murph Says”.

He and I go for a cigarette break when the bus gets near the border and talk about the process of recording with Dino Jr – they’ll be doing that in February – and how it’s been staying at Lou’s place the last month. “The kids call me Uncle Murph!” he says proudly.

At the border, I am treated to another amazing thing: Tour Man’ Dan collects all our  passports (all labeled, and weirdly/wonderfully Henry Rollins’ passport is BLACK not BLUE) and goes to deal with Customs/Border patrol while we lounge. Murph and crew man Larry have to go out but otherwise, we’re all in the bus CRYING WITH LAUGHTER as Rollins cracks jokes about things the border guards may find wedged in private places.  The rest of the time…

…Henry Rollins sits quietly, reading. About what, I forgot to ask. But he is very serious-looking when he reads. (And apologies for sneaking these two on-board pics of Murph & Rollins. I do realize that what goes on on the road must stay on the road, but I’m kinda geeking out.  I mean, WOULDN’T YOU? Sorry Murph and Henry.)

We arrive in Vancouver and park a block behind the Commodore Ballroom. Lou’s still asleep so I show Murph how to get into the venue, and head home for a quick shower. I come back in time to get my ears pre-blown out during soundcheck and take this camera phone pic from the rafters to prove that J Mascis’ pedals are, uh, numerous. In fact, I walk backstage to see J surfing Ebay for a new pedal. I ask him if he found the one he’d wanted, but “No………”.

Next door, Vancouver cultural icon Nardwuar The Human Serviette about to interview Henry Rollins. “Hullo BackstageRider!” Nard greets me. (The whole fact Nardwuar is interviewing Rollins again is amazing because the last time he did so, in 1988, Rollins nearly chewed him up and spat him out. I tell this story to a fascinated J and Lou in the room next door.) Check out the innervu – all the “recent” pics of Henry et al in this video are by ME!

O and here’s a pic of O, from LA-based band The Makeup Sex, whom Dinosaur Jr. really dig and who O-pened in Vancouver. And when I say O-pened, I mean, only O opened. His drummer and bassist didn’t make it over the border in their rental car on time, so O had to go it O-lone. “I’ve never cancelled a gig,” he said to me and Nard afterwards. O well, was still good.

Soon it was time for the return of the Rollins….INTERVIEW O’CLOCK

There’s more on that exchange here in The Snipe’s coverage, by Rachel Fox.

I think J spotted me taking pictures.

But soon! It was time to rock AND roll on out! Here’s the setlist.

Freak Scene….sorry, not Lou. The song.

Yep, Murph forgot his drum key backstage again. But after a mad scramble by Tour Man Dan, he was keyed up and mouth opened.

AND THE CROWD WENT WILD! No really, this guy was rockhanding it, pounding the stage, singing every mumble that came out of….

…this guy’s mouth. Man, I love shooting Mascis in good light. His hair is AMAZING.

Here is another comprehensive portrait of J Mascis, taken from sidestage where I perched for most of the night. Tinted purple for added J-ness.

And, once again, Henry Rollins and his workboots sit DIRECTLY BEHIND J MASCIS’ WALL OF AMPS either taking notes on something, diairizing or headbanging. At one point, when the crowd started to go a bit moshy, even got up and looked like he was gonna help out by protecting J’s pedals (either that or flinging some bodies back into the crowd, which I would have paid money to view). I love how much Henry loves Dino.

And once again, it was time for someone to close out the tour and sing “Don’t” so that Lou didn’t have to. Enter my friend and  musician Devon Lougheed. Devon plays in several bands in Vancouver including Beekeper, Hey Ocean! and Sidney York, and is a MASSIVE Sebadoh/Dino fan. I’d put the bug in Lou’s ear about Devon as a possibility, and on stage Lou went for it. Devon got up and NAILED IT. Mama was so proud. (That’s me.)

After the show we drank beer and hung out with Nardwuar before leaving out the back to find a good dozen or so fans had waited in the cold to get autographs and take pictures. But soon it was time to leave my new family…whom I will see in just a couple of weeks on the Weezer Cruise, whee! But before we go, Lou Barlow has some very important advice if you’re going to be attending a Dinosaur Jr. show in future….

Remember, kids, ALWAYS WEAR YOUR EARPLUGS!

Thanks again Dinosaur Jr, for letting me tag along. An epic weekend and an epic band. Extra rockhands to you! \m/ \m/ \m/

(And now READ PART ONE, SEATTLE if you haven’t)

So besides being AWESOME to hear the Bug album in full, what else was was particularly awesome about the Seattle and Vancouver shows on December 17 and 18?

I was there.

At the radio station, on the bus, at the hotel, backstage, sidestage and across the border, the BackstageRider tagged along…and Dinosaur Jr and their amazing crew put up with me. Here’s what happened in Seattle. Click on all photos to embiggen the magic.

I arrive in SEA,WA just in time for a Thai lunch with Lou at a restaurant near KEXP, where the band were to perform and be interviewed. The halls were crowded at the radio station, and filled with fan boys plus old friend/VP of SubPop Records, Megan Jasper. Megan’s known the band since almost-literally forever, and it was her mum Maureen who interviewed Joseph Jr. Mascis in this quite-remarkable video.

While the band played four tracks and Henry chatted on-air with the DJ, I stood, nose-pressed to the recording room window. The soundbooth was rammed and, possibly, shaking during that last bit of “Just Like Heaven” so I sought refuge elsewhere, to take the shots. Listen to the whole performance on KEXP’s site.

Afterwards, while Seattle photog Dave Lichterman set up for a photoshoot for the KEXP blog outside, the Three Messedkateers hung around chatting (ie, Murph did all the talking). J had just been to Whole Foods down the street. I knew this even before I saw the bag because a Twitter friend tweeted at me excitedly that his mate had just seen J in the shop. “Whole Foods people are REALLY SERIOUS about Whole Foods”, said Lou with a laugh. I introduce myself to J. His handshake is very light and if I’m not mistaken there might have been a “hi” uttered.

Set up in the parking lot, Henry and the band pose for photos…

…aaaand goof around. J starts slowly pushing imself away, rolling downhill, while the mostly-serious-but-actually-really-fucking-funny-when-he’s-with-the-band Henry Rollins tells some sort of entertaining anecdote. That’s photog Dave in shot. Here’s his set of pics on Flickr, they’re rad:)

Then Rollins and I chat about the first time I met in him in ‘92 when he was out on tour with the Rollins Band and Therapy? in Toronto. “That was ‘94,” he corrects then goes off on a ramble about how he manages to remember certain gigs and tours and festivals. (“There are some festivals where you always see and tip your hat to Paul Weller…”) Rollins likes to ramble – he’s good at it. And very entertaining.

We all head over to Showbox at the Market, a fine venue. At some point, after soundcheck I find myself sitting backstage, silently, with J Mascis, while he eats some Liberte yogurt . A glacial-paced year seems to pass, but everyone knows that J’s not *cough*, a big talker. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about being backstage, it’s that one must blend in with one’s environment. So I also sit silently. But within minutes, I can’t stand it.

Me: “You have to have one of the most healthy riders I’ve seen, ever.”

J: “Huh?”

Me: “Your backstage rider. Yogurt, Perrier, brown Rice Crispies…it’s so healthy. And coconut water is awesome! Lou told me about how it’s good for hangovers.”

J: “Oh……………………….yeah.”

CONVERSATION COMPLETE.

Anyway! Here’s the a pic of the band’s most awesome openers, Pierced Arrows,  in a haze of hair, insanity and sheer amazingness. Backstage Lou tells me their long history about how they used to be known as Dead Moon, and were really popular in Europe, and I marvel at the fact that the drummer, Kelly, sitting down is almost as tall as bassist Toody is when she’s standing up. They’re really, really great. And Toody? An insane bass player, a monster on that thing. “Almost as good as Lou Barlow,” a fan says to me.

Then it’s time for the Henry Rollins interview. On stage, you can tell Rollins takes his interviewing job seriously. (Fuck, man, he seems to take EVERYTHING seriously, bless him) and takes care to ask different questions each night to keep things well-paced. “They’re not the most loquacious” he’d said earlier in the day at KEXP to the DJ, and he’s right. It’s kinda amazing, the whole Interview-Three-Dinosaurs concept, and a cool twist to the usual. I like me some cool twists. I also like Black Flag. Double win!

During the interview, though, J is positively chatty (at least a dozen words!) and very dryly funny. There are jokes about the old days. Lou refers to having to wait for J to finish watching All My Children (which J’s watched since he was about 12 years old) so they could practice. All laugh. I admit that the image of J, wrapt in front of soap operas is a rather quite entertaining picture to rest on.

Backstage, Murph and I joke about how his non-alcoholic beers tend to disappear because folks see the Beck’s labels and grab ‘em thinking they’re “real”. A clear-eyed Murph is lovely to see. The crew recall other times when Murph played the Shoebox and was, uh, a little worse for wear. But that was then, and this is now. Perrier and N.A. beer, hell yeah!

Before go-time, I ask Henry about his acting career and if there’s any plans to return to it (I’m pointing at you, rather quite disturbingly good stint on Sons of Anarchy). Not at the moment, he says, he’s busy concentrating on his series Animal Underworld for National Geographic, which has taken him to a shopping list of cool international enclaves. But, he concedes, “I’ve been in a lot of straight-to-DVD movies, because at this stage of my career, I kind of almost say yes to anything that I get offered and I’m very fortunate. But I don’t NEED to do the acting. I have lots of other things going on.”

A few minutes after wrap with Henry, it’s time for Dino. Sir Ampsalot earns his nickname by walling himself in among a stack of six Marshall amps, which, Lou says, is entirely unnecessary… but we all know adds to the mystique and enormousness, right?  I am thankful for my heavy-duty earplugs….in fact, me, Murph and Lou all spend a lot of time going “WHAT? SORRY? WHAT??? to each other.

Pictured: White Wizard. Not pictured underfoot: Three square blocks worth of pedals, including J’s own purple (what else?) Fuzz Munchkin. Not to be confused with Fuzzy Lumpkins from the Powerpuff Girls.

Shortly after this picture was taken, Murph runs over to me during a break in a song, and asks me: “Can you get my drum key out of my jeans back pocket?” I go backstage, rifle through his jeans, delete everything in his phone, steal his credit cards and find the drum key. (Okay, the last bit was true.) SEATTLE, THE REASON MURPH COULD KEEP DRUMMING WELL WAS BECAUSE OF ME. YOU’RE WELCOME. #NoactuallyitwasbecauseofMurphwhoisagreatdrummerbutwhatevs

Fact: Lou Barlow wears his shoes on stage for only one or two songs then goes be-socked. His socks are from Marks & Spencer in England. The trousers were new from Portland (he made a resolution to not look shleppy on stage), and the glow is the radiation of his AWESOME PLAYING WITHIN DINOSAUR JR. To wit: here’s the setlist of that night.

You know what else was mind-bendingly amazing to watch? Henry Rollins (who is, it must be said, AN ENORMOUS DINO JR FAN) sitting directly behind J’s amps EVERY NIGHT and, in between jotting notes on whatever into a notebook, HEADBANGING, AIR PUNCHING, PURSING HIS LIPS, SINGING OR NODDING ALONG along to all the songs. Beautiful to see Dinosaur Jr’s own hero sitting behind them so dedicated.

And as the theme here has been focused around awesome…let me introduce you to Shannon, k?

This is Shannon. You know the last song on Bug called “Don’t”? The one song that Lou sings? That was written for Lou about Lou?  The one everyone talks about because its five words “WHYYYYYY! WHYYYYY DON”T YOU LIKE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?” was screamed so strongly and repeatedly during recording that it caused Lou to hork up a few bits of blood? Well, understandably, Lou doesn’t like to bloody his vocal chords much anymore, so he invites audience members sometimes to scream in his stead. Shannon’s apparently a drummer in a heavy metal band…who also didn’t know the song at all. None of the words. None of all five of the words. “I went to tell her how the song went,” said Lou afterwards,”but she was, like, ‘yeah, whatever’ and just went for it.” Instead she just screamed great big guttural howls. BRILLIANT!

Also awesome? Her stagediving and the parts when her skirt just rode up over her leggings and she didn’t pull it down, and when she sat down on the stage just screaming, and when she was generally all I don’t give a fuck. Yeah, this pic sorta sums up how I felt about the night, too, trying not to give a fuck, having fun in the moment, ‘cos, really, there ain’t much else more awesome than hanging out with Dinosaur Jr. and Henry Rollins. Except for maybe coconut water after a hangover. \m/

NOW READ: On the Road with Dinosaur Jr and Henry Rollins: Part 2, Vancouver

The electro duo have a new album, called Trans-Love Energies, out September 26 . THIS IS VERY EXCITING. Particularly because the band have been talking about doing new music, for, oh, three or four years now. And it’s been a full SEVEN since their last album.

Also exciting is the fact that new single, “Your Loft”, features vocals from the otherworldly Torontonian, Katie Stelmanis from Austra. WHICH IS ALSO VERY EXCITING, because Austra is all kinds of great. The match sounds tremendous. Lightness into dark, good versus evil, you know, all the vital plot points.

My story about DIV goes back to ’94, with the release of their debut, Dead Elvis.  That CD was dusky, dub-y, dirty slow grind dance music for early mornings after wasted nights. I fell in love HARD when it was released: “Twist and Crawl” (with the English Beat’s Rankin’ Roger toasting on it) remains of one of fave songs ever, and “Dirt” features a brilliant sample from a guy on stage Woodstock, as its driving backbone. Dead Elvis holds up. It’s dark, primitive and fantastic.

Admittedly, I  fell a little out of love with subsequent DIV efforts over the years (though Scorpio Rising’s “Aisha” with Iggy Pop growls, was fab), but have always had nuff respec’ for Fearless’ sparse and edgy electro, no matter what.

So in ’96, I was ecstatic to hear of their impending arrival in Toronto. Fearless and Holmes brought with them 7 musicans, who crowded on a tiny stage at Lee’s Palace, and then blew the bloody doors off. One of those musicians was Ian Button, DIV’s longterm guitarist (formerly of Thrashing Doves) and now longtime friend of mine since that night. In my diary, I described that show as “stellar” and “throbbing”.

After the gig, me, Ian, a friend and Seamus the keyboardist, ran around trying to find rolling papers, then piled onto the tourbus and ended up in an all-back-to-theirs sort of scenario at the hotel for a full-room party. That night, an editor of the UK’s Mojo magazine, who was writing a feature on the band (back when magazine financed this kind of stuff, or, you know, paid writers), hit on me by asking me what my favourite sexual position was. Smooth, no? I declined to answer, and left alone at 4am.  But it was a ridiculously fun night. Button – who also recorded as solo artist Anthony Anderson – even wrote a song about it and called it “Ontario Skies”.

I wouldn’t see DIV again for about 5 years, when, in the middle of a tiny press conference and interview with them, I got word that my UK visa had been approved…thereby sidetracking me from the Scorpio release love-in. Shortly after I found myself celebrating with the band backstage after their show at the huge London room Ocean, and reminding drummer Simon of “that time back in Toronto.” Brilliant times, indeed.

So here we are 10 years on from that, and after a few fits and starts, there’s something new, something sparse and eerie from Death in Vegas. Trans-Love Energies seems to be, on first listen, pretty spacious. “Enforced Peace” sounds a bit chip-tuney and basic doesn’t it? But then it seems to fill out, burrow. DIV are always good to grow.

Have a listen to a couple of tracks here, plus a sampler from the album mixed by Fearless for BBC Radio 6, which is tasty. Track the album down from your favourite importers, sharpish.

It’s trippy, and it’s Death in Vegas. HAIL.\m/

Death In Vegas 2011 by Death In Vegas

The Antlers’ session is rad and I’m chuffed that I get to see ‘em twice today. Extra new guitarist/bassist Timothy is the joker, complaining about how his “good idea at the time” breakfast sandwich is now coming back to haunt him. This has no impact, however, on the loveliness that is “Every Night My Teeth Are Falling Out” and “I Don’t Want Love”, two of the tracks that fill the room at noon.

Afterwards I corner Peter and gush (Me: “yeah, and I also love Hospice but can only listen to it when I don’t want to feel emotional.” Him: “Yeah, understandable.”), and we start to make plans about the absurdity of a Cruise featuring a bunch of 90s indie rock bands…and them. Darby and I also plot. Insert *muhahahahahahahaha* here.

Next up! GODSPEED YOU BLACK EMPEROR! No, sorry, MOGWAI! No, sorry, GODSPEED YOU EXPLOSIONS IN THE MOGWAI! Uh, whoops, I mean EXPLOSIONS IN THE SKY! Yeah, that’s it! I really, really dig the new era of quiet-loud-quiet-blood-loud-epic-instrumental bands, and Texas’ Explosions are bringing back the need for earplugs in a good way. Their songs soar, even at this contained KEXP sesh, and Michael James and Munaf Rayani (plus Mark Smith) are bowled over by their own awesome that they all need to sit down. Perhaps conserving for later’s night show….

After the back-to-back awesome of Antlers exploding in the sky, and having a brief chat with EITS’s Rayani, I head up in the vampire-killing sunshine to check out the awesome rock PosterMart that’s on in the Jupiter Hotel’s courtyard. I fall hard for San Fran’s Lil Tuffy’s stuff (see above), and we chat about how he did all of Pavement’s posters last year. I’m about to buy up tons of his stuff when I realize that I’m broke. Sadface. Anyway, it’s lunchtime and I need some coin for more Sizzle Pie.

After lunch, I get a bit of indigestion watching Avi Buffalo. Nice enough guy, but I couldn’t pick his music out of a crowd if it came up and bit me in the mixed metaphor. We chat afterwards – he digs and knows Lou Barlow – but someone has told me that he’s seen a Tumblr with Avi’s girlfriend doing naughty stuff and that Avi’s private parts are on it as well. I can think of nothing else.

Then it’s a wander down over the bridge, through the remnants of the Portland Saturday Market and towards to the outdoor venue of Pioneer Courtyard Square for my second-helpings of Typhoon, The Antlers and Explosions in the Sky, as the sun sets on a muggy night. Typhoon are great. Perfect late-summer music, and fill the stage with their aforementioned 1,698 members. I like!

Then it’s back to The Antlers. Timothy walks past, sitting on a stoop, recognized me from earlier at KEXP and we end up talking about, what else? The Weezer Cruise. “I can’t decide if it’s totally hilarious or really pretentious,” he says. We agree it has to be former. It’s too much weird not to be. Then he runs off to find his cousin before taking the stage. By then, the sun is dipping and Peter’s voice just hovers in the haze. Dunno how he manages the fragile/forceful mix but hey, well done. They sound pretty perfect in the air.

After the set, I run into this guy – Michael from the Antlers – to complete my full set of horns. Do I win a prize? Yep, me and Michael hit it off instantly and are riffing off each other immediately. “You’re painting quite a debauched picture of this Cruise,” he says. I apologize. “No, I think that’s what it’s going to be like.” We try to figure out the quantity of booze we need to bring onto the boat. ‘Cos, like, that shit’s gonna be expensive on the open seas! Antlers, I deem thee my favourites of MFNW. Can’t wait to help judge the Bellyflop Contest with you, Michael! *hi-five*

I love this picture. It’s Explosions in the Sky, exploding before the night sky. And look! There’s a rainbow! See? Sky! Explosions and sky! (They also sounded brilliant and enormous.) But by that time it was late dinner o’clock… What’s that Deschutes Brewery? You want me to drink your beer and eat your hot wings outside with my mate Shelly from KEXP? Okay! So we do. Then I hop in a cab to the OTHER end of town’s Hawthorne Theatre in time for the mega near-finish of the week….

Hey look! It’s my friends in punk band OFF! featuring former Circle Jerk and Black Flag-er Keith Morris! EXCLAMATION MARKS! Here’s Dimitri Coats and his amazing hair, whom I ran into before the show. I remind him of meeting up not more than a month ago at their Copenhagen gig. He gives me a big hug and says it’s nice to see me again. I also flag down OFF!’s Steve McDonald (formerly of Redd Kross) to catch up. He says he digs my t-shirt. He’s not the only one. I’m one of, like, five girls at the show and wearing a canny only-insiders-get-it Black Flag shirt, which means I get a lot of punk guys stopping me to admire my taste in coverage. Or cleavage. Not sure.

Keith Morris remains one of my favourite persons to take pics of. He’s brilliant, knows where the camera is and is all insane energy. He rabbits on about Gun Club’s Jeffrey Lee Pierce, before playing the song, along with pretty much everything else on their first four EPs. I love OFF! so very, very much…but Shelly’s outside in the car and it’s time to wrap MFNW back at the Doug Fir with a local band I’ve never seen before…

…it’s the Portland two-piece The Helio Sequence, who are playing to a wrapt and rammed room full of love. Have no idea how to describe Brandon and Benjamin’s stuffs, but it’s kinda indie pop with an electronic backbone. And it’s a pretty sweet way to end the night and end the week, with the KEXP gang, in the room they called home for a bit.

So, thanks, MusicFestNW, that was a blast. Your pizza, doughnuts, venues, local bands and locals are quite frankly, hipsterrific. I’mma be back, if you’ll have me?  \m/

NOW READ PART ONE, FEATURING SEBADOH, THE ARCHERS OF LOAF, UNKNOWN MORTAL ORCHESTRA …and FRED ARMISEN!

NOW READ PART TWO, FEATURING THE HORRORS, DAN MANGAN, RHETT MILLER, SHARON VAN ETTEN, TYPHOON AND MORE!

FOR MORE PICS FROM MUSICFESTNW, PEEP MY COVERAGE IN CONSEQUENCE OF SOUND

Poking around in the garage, I find a very tired looking Joshua (nee Von Grimm) and Rhys (formerly Spider Webb, looking all dandy in a stripey shirt with a cravat) having a smoke before having to face the audience. I say hullo. They nod. Barely. Lead singer Faris sits down near me in the empty club and we start chatting. He asks me if I’m Irish. I tell him no, I lived in London for 7 years and my accent is kinda bastardized. He tells me his girlfriend – also from Vancouver – always gets questions in London if she’s Irish so he wonders if all Vancouverites have a slight Irish accent. I laugh. We’re getting on great! Then I ask him if I can take a candid picture. He declines. He has clearly been coached not to accept promotion unless it comes via his “people” (which I’m sure the Horrors have). Gods Londoners sometimes need to crawl outta their own arses…

…still, all I can fixate on is their hair. Remember the Horrors when they looked like this? Awww! Least Joshua’s hair is more managable now. Uh…yeah. “Changing the Rain” and “I Can See Through You” sound fab, incidentally. Even at 10.30am.

Aaaaand now for something completely different. The lovely, beardy folk-rocker called Dan Mangan, from my hometown Van, is next up at KEXP and plays an absolutely stunning set of tracks from his upcoming album Oh Fortune. We all forget about the Horrors’ hair and swoon. You need to know about Dan Mangan. if you don’t already. His songs are made of the pretty and he’s ridiculously nice and witty on air. Afterwards, he and I chat and make plans to get drunk at our fave local bar when he’s back in Vancouver. As you do.

After a lunch of Sizzle Pie (a slice o’”Kylesa” for me), I wander though the warehouses on NE Couch and Davis up to Portland’s famous Voodoo Doughnuts (Too) to queue for a Maple Bacon Bar (with real bacon on top, and it’s insane good) and this, the Miami Vice. Here’s Brittney, one of KEXP’s photographers, helping me with my hard work.

After lunch, it’s PDX’s  Typhoon’s turn in the studio. They seem to have 1,698 members, and remind me of a sort of Polyphonic Spree-meets-Arcade-Fire thing, though not so kooky and very pretty. Here, they hang out waiting for a group shot. Remind anyone of school photos?

LOOK AT THE CUTE TYPHOON HORN SECTION! What’s a baby Typhoon called? Breeze? AirCon?

But I was waiting for this. Old 97’s singer Rhett Miller brings his geetar and stomping boots and plays one of the best KEXP sessions of the week. Sure the music’s a bit samey rawk, but he takes requests, does a cover of REM’s “Driver 8″ and looks to on-air DJ Kevin for encouragement.  And when he gets the thumbs up, he even plays an encore. It’s brilliant. Afterwards we chat and take a pic together, because he is a cutie. And I like cuties.

Then it’s back to the hotel for a 45 minute nap before…

…newish Portland rappers TxE at the Roseland Theatre, playing just before Mackelmore and Lewis. To enjoy this set and take this amazing pic of Epp standing on air, I had to go through a metal detector. Oh those keeeeraazy rap shows filled with all-ages kids!

But TxE (pronounced T&E) are really quite fun, and both Calvin and this guy, TOPE/Anthony Anderson, climb on into the crowd. The kids duggit. I duggit. Check ‘em via Facebook.

After TxE was Shabazz. Was really looking forward to checkin’ out the former Digible Planets’ Butterfly in action in his newer joint Shabazz Palaces, ‘cos I dig their SubPop album Black Up! muchly. It’s a delicious dark muddle of twisty hiphop. Problem is, there’s some serious sound issues tonight and it’s the wrong room for ‘em. All I seem to get from Shabazz’s performance is a dark mumble. Bummer.

….aaaaand now for something completely different. AGAIN. I rush up the street to the Crystal Ballroom to catch the last few songs of Weinland and then watch with nodding appreciation of the wonderful Sharon Van Etten. But it’s about 145 degrees inside, and I’ve not eaten. I inhale another slice at the back of the venue while trying not to dehydrate. But Sharon, you’re a beaut.

Then it’s rushing back DOWN the street to the EMP Backstage lounge, where Toronto pedal-hoppers PS I LOVE YOU (whom I love) have finished up and local trio/heroes The Thermals have taken over. The lounge is rammed and I climb onto a sofa near the door to watch the indiepoppunksters do a brilliant fun set. In fact, it’s so fun that this happens. At the back of the room I catch up with Ben PS I LOVE YOU, then head next door for the last bit of Ladybug Transistor.

…f0llowed by Julian (from Elephant 6/The Music Tapes) and the rest of weirdies in Olivia Tremor Control, doing their sort of indie rock 60s psychedelia to an absolutely sardined crowd in the narrow Someday Lounge. I tweet PS I LOVE YOU’s Paul Saulnier to tell him sorry I missed him, and that I was next door at Olivia Tremor Control. He tweets back “Let’s party!” So I…

…scream “MORE COWBELL!” at Will Cullen Hart (or maybe I did?) and then type back at Paul, telling him I’m gonna head back to the EMP to find ‘em. But when I get there? Guess what? The Thermals have blown up their amp, shutting down the rest of the night…and the place is empty. So I head to the Horrors a few blocks away, eager to see if how their hair fares at midnight instead of 10am. In the meantime, Paul PS I LOVE you is tweeting me: “I’m at Olivia Tremor Control!”. We are rock ships passing in the night. Shame.

At the appropriate-named venue Dante’s, The Horrors are playing in the dark. Pretty much. And even though I’m standing next to a mixing board stage right and next to Von Grimm, all I can see is this…you know, hair. But the band sounds great, and are rightfully more on point for their actual show. I’m thankful for a bit of Brit, quite frankly.

And that’s it! Stick a fork in me, I’m done! Absolutely shattered after 15 hours of music, pizza and doughnuts. Good thing there’s not another day of MFNW ahead! OH. \m/

NOW READ PART ONE, FEATURING SEBADOH, THE ARCHERS OF LOAF, UNKNOWN MORTAL ORCHESTRA …and FRED ARMISEN!

NOW READ PART THREE, FEATURING ANTLERS, EXPLOSIONS IN THE SKY, TYPHOON, AVI BUFFALO AND OFF!

FOR MORE PICS FROM MUSICFESTNW, PEEP MY COVERAGE IN CONSEQUENCE OF SOUND

And hey, guess what? I was there, too. Why? Because Portland rules: there’s beers, hippies, hipsters, fixie bikes, good food, nice venues and awesome donuts. And I spent three outta the five nights doing what I like to call SERIOUS MUSICKING.

Here’s what transpired on September 8th: Part 1.

Couldn’t quite get up in time for Sweden’s Little Dragon, who played Thursday’s “HOW early?” 10am KEXP session, but made it to the Doug Fir in time to catch my fave new US band, Unknown Mortal Orchestra. “Ffunny Ffriends” sounded particularly sunny, and lead singer/guitarist Ruban thanked folks for coming to the set so early. “Normally I’d be getting up around this time. And thinking about whether or not to smoke a bowl.”

After the sesh, and a chat in the Green Room with my new KEXP mates (including friend Shelly Corbett, who is a live-session videographer) and UMO, we all bail upstairs to the outdoor patio. It’s about 14 degrees hotter than Hades and we’re all digging the Indian Summer. By sweating.

…and drinking gin and tonics. Portland local and UMO bassist Jake Portrait and I catch up – he’d given me a list of great places to try out in town, including the almighty Sizzle Pie pizza shop. (Kind of rock n’ roll pie place down the street, which had conveniently renamed some of its pizzas for its favourite MFNW bands. Over two days I had the Kylesa and the Explosions in the Sky. They were out of the Sebadoh.) I also make him do the rockhands, but he insists that at this time of the day, this is all he is able to muster. It’s pretty fucking pathetic…

…so we teach him to straighten up and rock right. I mean, these things are important, yeah? \m/

Around the time, my boys in Sebadoh show up in their little silver rental car, and get set up for the next KEXP session. Jason Loewenstein does some pretty swift thinking during “Careful” and drops the “bullshit” at the end of the line “Watch out for my bullshit/Everybody’s got it” for the benefit of radio listeners with sensitive ears. Quick thinking, JL! And it makes Lou Barlow laugh…

After a seven-song set, including the rarely played (this year) “Soul and Fire” and the always awesome “Forced Love”, Sebadoh zip out to the street to do a KEXP photo shoot, and then we hang out with a fan who’d driven 22 hours to see them from Las Vegas. The band is pretty impressed and the fan – Jake – and his brother end up hanging with us after the night’s show. But first! There’s musician geek shopping to do! So we head nearby to the Old Town Music shoppe ‘cos the guys need strings for the bass and guitar.

After chatting for a bit with Jason, and not quite making the connection that he’s got Sebadoh shopping in his store, sales guy Hank looks up to see Lou Barlow pottering around the guitar section…and the penny drops. (Though his sandwich doesn’t). “Holy fuck,” he says, it all falling into place. “That’s Lou Barlow…. Wow, huh…okay now I get it.” He gives the guys t-shirts and helps ‘em out with strings. Meanwhile Bob has fallen in love with a snare drum and both he and Jason spend time drumming on it. I walk around admiring pedals like the “Big Muff”, which will never cease to make me snicker. Because I am a child. We also put Hank and his buddy at the store on the guest list for later that night. As a thanks for letting us interrupt his lunch.

Then it’s off to the Crystal Ballroom for soundcheck. Still unsure how “Just Gimmie Indie Jock” rockers Archers of Loaf have the headline slot tonight but Lou assures me people really heart them. I never got the Archers, and am actually curious to see ‘em first timey.

At the venue, Lou catches up with Matt and Eric from Archers. They re-acquaint, though the bands have -strangely- never actually shared a bill, though are from the same circles/era. Matt appears to be quite the Sebadoh fan. It’s kinda cute.

Opener Kevin Robinson from the night’s third band, Viva Voce, was pottering around during soundcheck and approached Sebadoh’s Jason for a chat. He had a nice clear drumkit. Aaaand that’s about all I can tell you about the duo of Viva Voce. I watched their set, but…yeah. Fine.

Anyway! After Sebadoh played (I was too busy drinking half of Lou’s bottle of white wine to shoot pics by this stage.), it was Archers o’clock. THE ‘DOH AND THE LOAF, together for the first time!”  The 1500-capacity room was PACKED and the crowd awaiting Icky Mettle stuffs. The Sebadudes and I all came upstairs to watch from the wings. Eric Bachmann rocked out, indeed, and bassist Matt Gentling bounced about like Flea from the Chili Peppers’ bro. Some of us shrugged, but yeah, seemed like the Loaf were winning with most folks.

Returning back downstairs,we returned to getting squiffy and laughing like loons…when at precisely the perfect moment, actor/comedian and former Trenchmouth drummer (“he was really good!” said Lou) Fred Armisen knocks and I let him in. He’s got a long history with Sebadoh via mutual friends and record company connections, and he’s insanely sweet. It also blows my mind that I’m standing backstage chatting in Portlandia with the co-creator and main dude of…PORTLANDIA. Stick a bird on this picture, stat!

What would the end of the night be without a strange ceramic cat bank? Nothing! Marvel at the gift of psychedelia kitsch that was bestowed upon cat-loving Mr. Barlow by a rad girl called Alix who hung out with us backstage. She had, apparently, painted kitty herself. It was pretty….scary. Its green eyes still haunt me in my dreams.

And soon it was actually time for dreams. I think. Not entirely sure. I was a bit drunk. ROLL ON the next day!

NOW READ PART TWO, FEATURING THE HORRORS, DAN MANGAN, RHETT MILLER, SHARON VAN ETTEN, TYPHOON AND MORE!

NOW READ PART THREE, FEATURING ANTLERS, EXPLOSIONS IN THE SKY, TYPHOON, AVI BUFFALO AND OFF!

FOR MORE PICS FROM MUSICFESTNW, PEEP MY COVERAGE IN CONSEQUENCE OF SOUND

It was Maya Miller, from the Pack AD, and did I want to come down and join them while they shot a video for a song off their new stormer of an album, Unpersons? It was gonna be for “Take” (a heavy grinder of a breakup song that nuzzles in nicely with the overall theme of the album. That theme being somewhat along the lines of: “Hey, you? You shattered my heart, and you’re an asshole.”). They were filming it in a warehouse room downtown. I could come and hang if I wanted?

Uh, lemme put down this pizza, put on some pants and flag down a cab. In no particular order.

So I get there, walk into the room and see three things:

1. Maya, lookin’ sharp in a black shirt and trou with a white tie.
2. Becky Black in a bright orange worksuit held tight at the back by bulldog clips and
3. A PYRAMIND  of light.

“Huh,” I say to Maya, “yunno, this looks just like…”

“It’s our homage to Gary Numan’s “Cars” video,” Maya says, finishing my sentence. “Becky said it was probably the best idea for a video I’ve ever had.”

HELL YES. YES, IT IS.

Over the next coupla hours, the tiny crew of five, including director Jimi Cuell and DOP Johnny Stewart, and I watch as Becky and Maya try to recreate Numan’s 80s minimalist masterpiece kinda shot for shot. Maya directs Becky well (“You need to look more pissed off!” “More lunge!” “Turn your head!”), gets directed ( “How the hell do I play the drum part you wrote again?”) and offers valuable trivia: “Did you know that the drummer is also chewing gum in the video?”.

Between shots, Becky frets that she’s losing her fright face. Is her MAC is properly touched up? She also keeps poppin’ the clips off the back of her outfit when she walks. Her mum tried to stitch in the suit, but it’s still too big on her. For a rocker who could rip the head off a mic, she is all kinds of adorable in an orange one-piece.

…As is Maya as she fiddles with the white tie she borrowed, and offers me beer. We crowd around Jimi’s iPhone to match shots against the original. I slink around and tell my story about walking past Gary Numan in London and being mesmerized by immovable, dyed-black helmet head. Meanwhile, Maya and Becky are burnt to the celluloid.

Then comes the obligatory goofing off: all crew on set – including yours truly – are invited to faff about in front of the camera holding the mic while wearing Huey Lewis-y glasses. Had to be done, really. And there’s pics to prove it. In fact, here’s a whopping 36 pics to prove that it all happened and that I didn’t T.A.R.D.I.S. back to 1980. Enjoy the video and the behind-the-scenes, y’all.

WATCH THE PACK A.D. VIDEO FOR “TAKE” HERE ON AUXtv

Oh and Unpersons? It’s out TODAY, September 13, on Mint Records. It’s punky, bolshy and will rock the crap out of your speakers. In fact, it’s so good that even Gary Numan’s hair would approve. Go get now. \m/