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/

In celebration of the upcoming Weezer Cruise (seriously, why aren’t you going? You still can! It’s January 19-23rd. Get tickets/info here), I’m pleased to offer some lucky people a whole bunch of Weezer gear.

And all you gotta do is send me a pic of you throwing the rockhands! Extra bonus if  your picture of the rockhands has any nautical/water/boat/Cruise/Weezer-themed elements in it. The more effort you put in, the better chance you’ll have to win.

Winners will be selected by me and maybe even some of the band members who are on the Cruise! (Can’t promise but will try!)

ONE LUCKY WINNER WILL GET ALL OF THIS:

• 1 Limited edition (of 900) screen-printed Weezer Pinkerton POSTER
• 1 Large Weezer Memories Tour T-SHIRT
• 1 copy of the double-album Weezer “RED” album on VINYL
• 1 copy of the Weezer “Raditude” album on VINYL
• 1 copy of the Weezer “Maladroit” album on VINYL
• 1 Weezer Cruise POSTER
• 10 Weezer Cruise rubber wristbands
• 10 Weezer Cruise temporary tattoos

ONE RUNNER-UP WILL WIN:

• 1 Limited Edition (of 900) screen-printed Weezer Memories Tour POSTER
• 1 Medium Weezer Memories Tour T-SHIRT
• 1 Weezer Cruise Poster
• 10 Weezer Cruise rubber wristbands
• 10 Weezer Cruise temporary tattoos

TO ENTER:

• Send a picture of yourself throwing the rockhands/devil horns/goats (see the Rockhands Gallery for examples)
• You MUST be in the picture and by entering you consent to let your picture be used on BackstageRider in the Rockhands Gallery.
• Provide the following, along with your picture: Your name, location and if via email, your mailing address. Do not put any detailed address information up in public on Twitter or Facebook thanks!

HERE’S HOW YOU SEND IN THE PICS:

• Email to Mikala@backstagerider.com – subject line: WeezerRockhands
• Twitter: twitter.com/backstagerider (@backstagerider) – hashtag #WeezerRockhands
• Post on our Facebook wall: fb.com/backstagerider - add hashtag #WeezerRockhands
• Pics can be via your phone, point-n-shoot, or pro, doesn’t matter.

Enter between January 6th and 11.59pm pst on January 23rd (the last day of the Cruise). The winner and runner up will be selected and contacted within 10 days after that. Prizes will be shipped out ASAP after that. Please help us spread the word via blogs or your FB and Twitter pages – all entries will be added in time to the Rockhands Gallery, woo!

ENTER NOW AND ROCK(HANDS) ON! \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

This year was good for music, sure, but there wasn’t a ton that blew me away to the point of drooling obsession. There were drool-worthy MOMENTS (meeting Matt Berninger of the National for a brief, shining second being one, crossing the border into Canada on the Dinosaur Jr. tourbus with Henry Rollins, being another, doing an exclusive photoshoot and meeting Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer for a third), but not a lot changed my life.

Still, let’s hear it for the really, really most excellent albums released this year, and the ones I played the most:

• Wye Oak – Civilian
  
• WU LYF – Go Tell Fire to the Mountain
• Austra - Feel it Break
• Duran Duran - All You Need is Now
• Girls – Father - Son, Holy Ghost
• Mike Doughty –  Yes and Also Yes
• Pack AD - Unpersons
• The Antlers - Burst Apart
• Yuck - Yuck
• Baxter Dury – Happy Soup

…but that’s getting rather list-like, innit? There were also some  lovely chilled offerings from Dan Mangan, Richard Buckner, Kate Bush, Kurt Vile , Thurston Moore, Wire, Bon Iver, M83, Beirut and on and on. Lovely albums, yes. Mind-blowing? No.

So I’ve decided to look ahead. Be positive. Future-thinking. Buck the trend, etc etc.

Here’s the Top 11 things I’m looking forward to in 2012, yo:

1. WEEZER CRUISE – I will be drunk on a boat for a week in January cruising from Miami to Cozumel with Sebadoh, Dinosaur Jr, The Antlers, Nervous Wreckords, Yuck, Wavves, Gene Ween and, yeah, Rivers Cuomo et al on the Weezer Cruise. Even Andy Stack from Wye Oak will be joining us on board for fun. How can this not be absurdly awesome? Note that I will also have the mother of all Weezer prize packs to give away in January. Stay tuned.
2. THE ELDERS OF BRITPOP RETURNETH – Apparently Blur will be meeting up over the hols to decide whether Alex can leave his cheese farm long enough for the guys to make some new music. Hmmm. Add to that, the car-crash?/amazing? news that the Stone Roses have reunited for a tour and new album (this was one of my fave columns written this past year). PLUS possibly/definitely more car-crash from Shaun William Ryder’s Happy Mondays reunion or the La’s playing New York’s Sound City? Let’s see how this all turns out, shall we? I’ll be pulling up a chair to watch.
3. GENTLEMEN, RE-START YOUR ENGINES– please dear gods, let this one stick. The Afghan Whigs mighta broken up 10 years ago, but announced in early December that they will be playing ATP festivals in New Jersey and England in 2012. Praying for news of a complete tour that comes close to where I live. I’d really like to hear ANYTHING off of Gentlemen come out of singer Greg Dulli’s mouth again. And new music? Uh, fuh yeah.
4. BOLDLY GOING TO GIGS I’VE NEVER GONE TO BEFORE – tons of bands touring next year that I’ve never seen live: Kasabian, Gotye, Bombay Bicycle Club, folks tell me I should like Fanfarlo, and more. Hell, I’ve never seen the Kaiser Chiefs, which is weird. Look forward to lots of “Huh…they were better/worse than I expected” posts.
5. LIKE A MONKEY WITH A MINIATURE CYMBAL- My favourite show of almost all time happened back in 2008, and was Hot Chip. The band itself even rated Vancouver’s gig as the best of their entire North American tour. But they’ve not been back and the five-piece’s now in total side-project mode. I’d really like to have Hot Chip back, please. At least live? Maybe this year? Al from Hot Chip told me a few months ago over  Twitter that the band were aching to tour again and hadn’t forgotten the Vancouver show.
   
6. GIMME MORE INDIE ROCK… – A new Sebadoh record? YUP. Their last album happened in 1999, but after a series of pretty rad “Bakesale/Harmacy Remembering Time” tours last year, the addition of an amazing new drummer Bob D’Amico, and a new lease on indie rock life, it looks like the band that never really broke up is gearing up to put together some new music in 2012 as part of a fan-funded project. Expect Jason, Bob and Lou to record in March with hopefully an autumn release and all sorts of goodies if you help them make it a reality. I’m pleased to announce, too, that I’ll be involved this project, too…which may be unsurprising to anyone who reads BSR regularly and saw the umpteen posts about how I went on tour this past year with Sebadoh in the US and Germany.
7. …AND MORE GOTH: Rumour has it that when The Cure recorded their 13th album 4:13 Dream (which was wayyy more poppier than any of us’d like), they also recorded a batch of suitably gloomy stuff for a possible “Dark Album”. And rumour ALSO has it that that album may show its birdsnest-hair-head in 2012. I will weep tears mixed with gothy black eyeliner if not.
8. BRONZE SLIPPY – electro duo Underworld were named musical directors of the London 2012 Olympic Games’ Opening Ceremonies, and are teaming up up with Slumdog Millionaire/Trainspotting director Danny Boyle to direct this big insanity, happening on July 27th. I reckon this could be interesting, ‘cos there’ll be lots of cool folks involved. Am I curious? HELL YES. I mean, Vancouver had Bryan Adams. SO TOP THAT, KARL HYDE!
9. RECORDS BEING SET STRAIGHT - Mike Doughty has spent the last, oooh, millions of years dissing his former band Soul Coughing and talking openly and honestly about life as a drug addict in the 90s. His very first book (not including Slanky, his poetry collection) is a memoir called The Book Of Drugs, and will reach deeply into how Soul Coughing came together, then fell apart and also look at the anatomy of a musician addict. Doughty’s a superb writer and I’ve got an advance copy going beside my bed. It’s brilliant, honest and really bolshy. Pre-order The Book of Drugs now, it’s out on Jan. 10.
10. BORN TO DIE OF OVEREXPOSURE? – Fascinated by how mainstream media glommed on to quirky Florence and the Machine a year or two ago, I’mma gonna be watching as the squeaky and annoying wheels of MAJOR MARKETING continue to spin around Lizzy Grant, aka Lana Del Rey. I’m not really buying it – though clearly everyone wants us to. Lizzy will be playing SNL before her first album comes out and she’s got mega bucks invested in her. I’m guessing they wanna fill the void of Lady Gaga/Crooner Girl hybrids? Should be fascinating to watch this THING explode.
11. THE BEST ROCKHANDS ARE YET TO COME – I’ve got my fingers in so many pies that I feel like a really sticky octopus. There might be some festivals, too (though I’m broke), some partnerships with the coolest of the West Coast music scene, and there will DEFINITELY be a lot of surprises coming up on BackstageRider. One thing I can guarantee that I will look forward to next year: knowing that you’re reading me, tweeting me, FB’ing me, Google+’ing me, and supporting this one-woman show. So keep talking to me, okay? And in the meantime, seriously, why aren’t you on the Rockhands Gallery? Send in your pics of you and friends throwin’ the horns for our gallery now.

Have yerself a merry little holiday and a groovy 2012. Rock on! \m/

Problem was, first we had to endure the aural wallpaper of the excrutiating dull and faux-dreary of this band called She Want Revenge. A band, I am told, that THE KIDS™ love. Not sure why, ‘cos lead singer Justin Warfield used to be a hip-hop dude and now literally sings stuff like “Kicking is hard when you need a fix” and what it’s like to feel like a woman. Or something. Anyway, ugh.

After they were granted an astounding full hour on stage – for indeed this was meant to be a co-headlining tour (Godflesh-knows-why) – it was time for…a 20 minute delay to the start of Peter Murphy’s set. Not much in theory, but in reality would actually cost us an encore.

Techs fiddled and faffed with sound – thereby eating into the precious time before curfew. Yeah, it was one of those nights where Murphy had to be offstage at the stroke of 10:15pm in order to make way for the club’s later, err, club night. HATE HATE HATE those. Either start on time, venues called Venue, or let the twinkies in the queue outside freeze for a few minutes longer.

But there he was, eventually- the Fairy Gothmother – all high-camp and slight ridiculous posing, BUT WITH THAT VOICE! Those songs I have known and loved since I was kneehigh to a pair of 8-hole Doc Martens and painting spiderwebs on my face!  In fact, I think I was knee-high when I last met Peter Murphy, back in 1990, and the last time I saw him live was in London about 6 years ago, when he sang half a song with this hand on my head. “OH GODS IS SHE TELLING THAT STORY AGAIN?”, my photog friend Darko (that’s his real name, not his goth one) joked at the club as I told that story again.

But  to hear Murphy start with “All Night Long” then admirably fly (no, really, he was flapping his wings) through new one “Velocity Bird” and then go into other tracks from Ninth (“Peace to Each” “Memory Go, ” I Spit Roses” etc), was stunning.

He preened and strutted, sticking his older man belly and his baldspot out as if he was still a fierce, lithe vampire. And the devotees in the front rows ATE IT. They pawed as his feet, climbed hands up his legs, reached out to touch the Hand of Goth.

And it was brilliant stuff – Peter Murphy owned the boards he stomped. Did you think he wouldn’t? Of course not.

And even though I didn’t know where to look when he stood there with his crotch pretty much right in my face for a full song (woo! Upgraded from a hand on my head!), it was all so bloody beautiful. To hear “Deep Ocean”, “Subway” and an acoustic “Strange Kind of Love” (which segued deliciously into a snippet from Bauhaus classic “Bela Lugosi’s Dead”) as well as three others from Bauhaus “Silent Hedges”, “In the Flat Field” “Dark Entries” plus the almost-better-than-Bowie “Ziggy Stardust”…was…worth the wait. And then, just as soon as he arrived, he claimed he had “many more songs he wanted to sing” but that he had to leave because of the curfew. No encore. See ya.

An unkindness of goths turned and looked at each other and mouthed: “BUT WHAT ABOUT ‘CUTS YOU UP’”? No, there was no “Cuts You Up”. There was no encore. We were robbed. But there was the feeling that for a moment or 55 minutes, it was amazing to have Peter Murphy back in black. \m/

So, it’d be prudent to give you a breakdown of the awesome that was two nights in a row of the National in Vancouver, right? Too bad. Half the local press have done that. Here’s what you need to know about why I love The National, and here’s the setlists from the November 28th show and the November 29th show, both at the beautiful Orpheum Theatre in Vancouver. The end.

No, what you need to know about The National in Vancouver is as follows: singer Matt Berninger, the great big red wino that he is, was a little drunker and a little looser on the second show, but equally charming. He poured wine from the bottle frequently and gave the bottle away at the end.

On both nights he hopped into the audience singing “Terrible Love” (night 1) and “Mr. November” (night 2) surrounded by crowd. He sang next to me, grinning like a loon. He swerved into friends who were in the audience. He stat in chairs and climbed over them. And the band – those excellent brother musicians, all – played on. They sounded stellar in the way that a band which has been touring its High Violet album for nearly 1.5 years, could sound.

The differences? Besides the setlists (a raging “Abel” on night 1 and a storming “Squalor Victoria” on night 2, some chiller “Son” and “Sons and Daughters of the Soho Riots” on night 2), there wasn’t much to differentiate. One show was not better, not vastly different from the other. Both were superb. And you should have been there.

But on night 1, as I left the venue minutes after a stellar unplugged, un-mic’d version at the lip of the stage of “Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks”, (see the video, though from Night 2), I saw a tall, handsome strawberry blonde dash outside and towards a van. Without thinking I gasped, and my GroupieDar (TM) sounded and off I went: “MATT! MATT! MATT!” I gasped and ran around side to the van without thinking. He was the only one in it, ready to be whisked away, but opened the door to allow me room to gush on him. We held hands. Okay, shook them. He was, and is, charismatic and beautiful and a little part of me screamed inside.

On the second night, after hanging out with my friends Jenn and Andy in Wye Oak who played on the Tuesday, I spotted both National twins, Bryce and Aaron Dessner, watching the indiepop of openers Local Natives, and we chatted. It was good. (Though for a few seconds, I wondered if I was introducing myself to the same guy. It was dark and really? Twins should not both wear blue button-down collared shirts and black jeans.)

But the thing that stood out? The thing that really made me love The National this time? THE BANTER. The National might seem like serious and kinda chilly musos, but NO. They like a batch of dick references just like the rest of us. Amen.

To wit:

Night 1

Aaron: “We might go on a sea plane to Vancouver Island tomorrow. Well, we might, but he [pointing to Matt] won’t.”
Matt: “There’s a plane that goes under the sea?”
Aaron: “No, it lands ON IT.”
Audience member: “Something something something hot tub orgy!”
Matt: “Woo! Yeah let’s do that. Actually no. I don’t like either of those things. Like, I really, really don’t.”

Matt introducing the horn section: “This is Dave Nelson and Kyle Resnick…their nicknames are ‘Kyle and David’…Actually, their real nicknames can’t be shared here because they mostly involve penis references. Like, Mr. Penis. Or Doctor Penis. Or Professor Penis…[cracks up]”
Aaron and Bryce hang their heads, shaking them.
Matt: “This is totally unscripted…”

Night 2:

Bryce: “I’d like to say hi to a guy who I met in an Irish bar in Tokyo who was from here. So, hi
Matt: “You sound like Jason Bourne. All worldly! Like, ‘I was in Kuala Lumpur on assignment and I met this Canadian guy…’”
Bryce: “But it’s true! He emailed me!”

Matt: “Last night I went on a 5 minute rant of dick jokes, so you’re lucky you’re not getting that.” [audience laughs]
Bryce: “Yeah, but you just interrupted the beginning of a song to tell them that”

Matt:  ”The dick jokes? I’ll write ‘em down, share ‘em on the internet. They’re dumb. I’m basically 2 years old.”

Aaron: “Here’s a creepy song.”
Matt: “It’s not creepy – it’s about love and loss. Actually it is creepy because it doesn’t have a melody.”
Bryce: “Like our other songs, which also don’t have melody”
Matt: “Fuck off!” [laughs then launches into "Apartment Song" then afterwards...]
Matt: “See? That had melody! Did you like that little lift I did there at the end?” [everyone laughs...a lot]
Aaron deadpans: “We need to get back into character.”
[Matt pretends to wipe smile off of his face, audience laughs and cheers]
Matt: “Woo? You guys are all like cheering ‘cos we’re awkward? It’s like, FUCK YEAH! They’re awkward! [Throws the horns \m/ \m/]

Exeunt. Thank you and good nights, National. Enjoy the pics, and the video, though apologies…. they’re only from my point and shoot. \m/

Who watched the Watchmen? I did. I watched the Watchmen. A lot. Fourteen times live in the ’90s, actually. Which was amazing because they play a brand of mainstream Canadian rock and roll (made famous up here in the cold northlands by the Tragically Hip) that didn’t sit easily in my indie/alt/Britpop cassette and CD collection.

In fact, it was the Tragically Hip’s “fault” I became a Watchmen fan. Rather, their manager’s.

Quick story: on a plane ride to Vancouver (was off to San Fran with the ‘rents and Vancouver was a pit stop), a then-18 year old Mikala notices that the Hip are checking in on HER flight. She chats excitedly with them at the airport, goes to visit them at their seats and then begs them to do an interview for the newspaper she wrote for. She is told YES! and given the manager’s business card! She then proceeds to bug the manager for several months in the quest for said interview, while he ignores her. She eventually types up a well-written rant and faxes (yes! Faxes!) it over to him for maximum effect.

He calls her phone, explaining why it’s not possible to do the interview EVEN THOUGH THE BAND SAID YES, THERE ARE FIVE OF THEM, AND SHE WOULD ONLY REQUIRE A 10-MINUTE CHAT ON THE PHONE WITH JUST ONE OF THEM, and would she like to see this new band on their roster instead? They’re called the WATCHMEN.

Bah. But she goes. And Winnipeg’s Watchmen were up on stage, opening for 54.40, and Danny Greaves’ voice blows her little mind. The guitar’s awesome as well. She develops a schoolgirl crush. Presto instant Watchmen fan. She spends the rest of university dragging friends along for the ride. Sometimes it’s okay for a goth to dip into mainstream.

So the Watchmen broke up properly about 10 years or so ago, and reunited for a smattering of shows, including this one, to celebrate what the Canadians like to think of as “our SuperBowl”, the Grey Cup football finals, held on November 27. (Hilarious, really. AMERICA HAS THE SUPER BOWL! Canada has….a grey cup? Touchdown, Canadians, for your inferiority complex!)

On stage in Vancouver, in 2011, time was frozen like Winterpeg in February. Okay, not for us in the audience, cos we all looked WAYYY old. But there they were, the Watchmen, looking not a day over the 1990s. Danny Greaves still belting out with that MASSIVE voice.  Bassist Ken Tizzard still wearing his sunglasses on stage (now with added elastic band to keep ‘em on his head) and doing the lanky bendy-knee bass poses. Sammy Kohn still studiously pounding away in the back. Joey Serlin, the comic book fan, still being a great guitarist and still (maybe?) a little spooked that I was standing right in front of him AGAIN for gig #15. It was like being back in university, minus the puking (though the Commodore’s wine in a can brought me close)!

The band opened with “Boneyard Tree”, which dove into “Say Anything”, “Any Day Now”, “Incarnate”, the crunchy “Run & Hide” from debut McLaren Furnace Room (also from MFR was “I’m Still Gone”, which weaved in Men at Work’s “Down Under”) then railed through an amazing “Stereo”, “All Uncovered”,  and a nice little cover of R.E.M’s “Driver 8″.

It all sounded sharp, yet had the comforting glow of terrestrial Canadian radio. We all sang along, and it felt…just good. And afterwards, when the band all admitted to me that “Yeah, I remember you!”, I felt pretty okay with the fact that the Tragically Hip had totally dissed me.\m/

The funny, sweet and remarkable show included odes to the house Palmer grew up in, Judy Blume, Lady Gaga, Joan of Arc and the small guitar thing known as the ukulele. It included an intense “Runs in the Family” from Who Killed Amanda Palmer? There were both “I’ll Be My Mirror” (from the 8 in 8 Project) AND “I’ll Be Your Mirror” a cover of the Velvet Underground classic. There was a hilarious take on
the Peter Cook/Dudley Moore sketch, “Jump, You Fucker Jump” (which was dedicated to actor Jeremy Geidt “even though he isn’t here to know that we’ve dedicated it to him.”). There was a brilliant Neil-done version of “Psycho” by Leon Payne (“You think I’m psycho, don’t you mama?”). And there were tears when Amanda dedicated her Death Cab for Cutie cover “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” to 23-year-old Ashlie Gough, who died at the Occupy Vancouver camp of an overdose.

There were poems and short stories, some never read live before and some exceptional (“Feminine Endings” – about a human statue, a story Neil sent to Amanda when he’d learned that she used be a human statue, “Before You Read This”, “Instructions”, “Orange” and Amanda’s chilling “Broken Heart Stew” among them.) And there was the EPIC and essential “Ukulele Anthem”, plus lots of kissin’ and lovin’ between the married performers on stage. And if that wasn’t enough? Thanks for flashin’ us your Australia flag underwear, AFP!

In other words, extraordinary. \m/

Enjoy the photos – all by Wayne Höecherl.

And don’t forget to check out the exclusive BackstageRider photo shoot with Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer, too!