So after playing Bumbershoot with us (and doing a bang-up job, I might add), Nick Harmer of Death Cab somehow still wants to be in the same room with us for longer than 5 minutes and is helping us to write new material. It's been a pleasure having him on loan and we'll weep tears of sorrow when he falls back into the loving arms of his real band next month when DCFC leave for tour. But for another week or so, his ass is ours and we plan on putting him to work. Last week Gabe and I arrived to practice just in time to join in on a song he, Arlie and Greg had started shortly before. It's sure to sit admirably beside our more ponderous anthems dealing with death, rebirth, and French letters. Yes, it was an evening of good times and even soda breaks. It was the way we used to be, before all this fame, prosperity and fear of follow-ups went to our poor, tender heads. Oh those bonnie bygone days.
After some deliberation, it looks like our next album will come out on Desoto. There are tentative plans to issue an E.P. on Pacifico at some point in the next 9 months, but our next full length will be solely a Desoto release. We're psyched to be working with them again and look forward to adding another record to their fine roster. Next week we'll be recording a new single which will come out on a 4 song split E.P. with the Dismemberment plan. Each band is contributing a new song and a cover. Look for that in the next few months.
Our next 2 shows will be in November and it looks like they'll be: the 2nd at the Crocodile with Radio 4 and the Dismemberment Plan and November 10th back in Seattle at the Paradox with Karate. Our new bass prospect, Robin Washburn has agreed to fill in on bass for those shows and it should be fun. He's a great musician and an all around good guy.
Besides the odd moment of grace, we're busy working on the new songs and hauling out odd ideas for re-examination in the face of our sophomore slump. In all honesty, it's coming right along, and is markedly different from our last effort. More complex, more focused, and sometimes more languid but not sucking(We hope). Expect some of the same: Too long songs, bash you in the head fever pitched rock, along with some newer modes of travel: Weepy sans drums numbers and even a Who/Daydream Nation rave-up. Think the hot blast of Live at Leeds, the quiet incumbent of Electra-O-Pura, and our continued tendency for stretching songs into days and lengths they never should have gone to. The ghost ship is our compass, and the albatross hangs heavily from our necks.
Our European tour is slated to begin in March of 2001, and all you foreign legion types can look forward to seeing Juno in your fair cities around that time. We'll be the shabby Americans so terrified of being in your country that all we can do is bust on everyone for talking funny, all the while wishing we could understand the awful things being said about us. It'll be fun. Do join in. This will be our first swing at all you limey tea-bag drinkin', frogtalkin', goosesteppin', sausage eatin', haggis havin', all night party goin', steeped in ancient history and culture motherfuckers and we can't wait to get started. Seriously though, go easy on us as we'll definitely need places to stay and good friends to walk us through the wilds of the old world. If all goes as planned, we'll be selling VINYL copies of our first CD while on tour there. It'll be a double album and may contain a surprise or two.
Arlie recently took his bad self to NYC and upon his return has decided to grow a beard, which is coming along nicely. When asked for update contributions, he quickly fired off: "Naked old guys in the locker room after physical therapy talking to me about women, saying, 'They got you on the ropes, don't they? But I can tell you're like a camel in the desert, you got reserves, don't you?'." Wow. Gabe bought a season's pass to Snoqualmie and can hardly get enough of any episode of VH1's behind the music. Doesn't matter which one. He's also working harder than one man should playing Santa for all the hungry snowboarder kids in the wild world. I ran 5 miles the other day, got kicked offstage at the Jet's to Brazil show for taking pictures too close to the band, and have been going crazy at work. Greg's recently joined the ranks of watch wearers, is going back to school and has been steadily getting stronger. Don't call it a come back.
And finally, in regards to Death Cab, some words to the wise: Don't believe the sensitive-guy image. It's a fatalist plot designed to corrupt the minds of young, impressionable indie-rockers from coast to coast. Witness the following:
Nick is in fact a wheezing metal lord underneath his facade of niceness and humility. His weekends are spent amongst the likes of Otaku and die-metal figurine masters. He tames dragons and eats poisonous snakes as if they were spaghetti. His one saving grace is swimming 6 miles every day with a chest to prove it. Ben Gibbard is in all actuality a jock as well, possibly of the baseballist persuasion. Check his hulking physique and tall guy good looks. In all likelihood, he would have gone onto superstardom as a little league pitcher had the rock not called his name. Chris Walla is a mad scientist and womanizer who has been known to call the Mayor's office whilst ONSTAGE in the midst of a sold out Bumbershoot show to leave disparaging messages. Michael, their new drummer, seemingly the ultimate nice guy, is actually a dashing early thirties investment banker by day and scatological performance artist by night. What could be worse?
Indie rock nice guys you could bring home to mom? I think not. Be on your best behavior around these wolves in sheep's clothing, kiddies. You have been warned!
October's top twenty, in no particular order:
Juno wants to party all the time,
Jason/Juno