Howl. Is. Here.

photo by Chris Rejano

JCBUS keyboardist Andy Rosenstein reflects on the lead-up to this week’s release of our 3rd album “Howl” (out now on Bloodshot Records):

By the time I joined the Uptown Sound as a full member in the spring of 2011, they’d just finished recording their second album “Want More”. I’d been gigging with them as a sideman on and off since late 2009.

By the time the group got to thinking seriously about our third record in the fall of 2012, we’d been touring pretty heavily on “Want More” for over a year.

By the time we got up to Montreal to record what became “Howl”, we’d been touring and writing for few months, and had begun performing a few of the new songs live.

And from the time we finished recording “Howl” to its release this week, we’d been sitting on it for another four months.

So to say that I’ve been waiting for this week is a pretty serious understatement.

Road Food!

We’re trucking across the southwest on our way to Austin and then home, but Andy still reminisces fondly about all the little things that made Italy and Spain so awesome….

It’s probably not news to you, but American coffee is kind of embarrassing. Sure, it’s got the drugs in it, which lord knows is the raison d’etre for a drink so absurdly involved to make, and generally pretty bitter to taste. But boy-o, the American version just doesn’t taste or smell the same as what you’ll find in the meanest Italian backwater. This is coming from someone who routinely asks people to smell milk for him and wouldn’t detect a gas leak until his apartment became a powder keg. And yeah, when it comes down to it, I’m sure I’ll reacclimate to American coffee pretty quickly [takes a sip, ruminates]… yeah, that’s delicious. But the coffee thing got me thinking about some of the other differences between road life in Italy and Spain, and in the States.

Whereas we have the Flying Js, the T&As, and the combination Pizza Hut n’ Taco Bells, etc., etc., Italy has the Autogrill. One company at every single roadside stop in the country, laying down the world standard for road food. You want an eggplant, fresh mozzarella, and tomato sandwich lightly grilled for less than $5? Done. How about some roast turkey in a white wine and pine nut sauce with a side of freshly made porcini mushroom tortellini? I’m not kidding. And that only begins to scratch the surface of what you can get at these places. Maybe you want a whole leg of prosciutto. I know I do. And for $60 plus a bribe at customs, I could probably be cradling one in my lap right now as I type. Speaking of pork…

On the road in Spain, you can get a plate of ham, bread, some mixed seafood ceviche, and a beer at 9am and no one will think you’re anything less than a perfectly sane foreigner. While Spanish roadside attractions lack the ridiculous quality and comprehensiveness of their Italian brethren, they do tend to make of up for it with their adherence to the national pastime: eating pigs. The Spanish are completely and utterly obsessed, and mostly oblivious to the extent of their obsession with pork. They have a popular chain market actually called El Museo De Jamon. It’s slightly alarming, but mostly just endearing how much they love it, and I joined in with all 32 teeth.

But now we’re back in the states, and as a shameless opportunistarian, I have already returned to eating mostly vegetable-matter, dairy, and fish. It was a fun food holiday, and we played some music.

-Andy

(ps… In all sincerity, I would like to thank everyone in Spain and Italy who helped put on a show we played, saw us play, or bought some merch, everyone who prepared or served us food, turned down our myriad hotel rooms, and especially our road managers. We appreciated it all.)

(pps… I am aware that The Italian Truck Stop sounds like one of those weird hypothetical sex moves that people make up to gross one another out. If you know what that move entails, please send all correspondence to BillyB@jcbusmusic.com.)

Airplane Movies (better than Airplane Food?)

After having the dubious pleasure of sitting through two Johnny Depp movies on the way home from Brussels today (I love the guy, but seriously Johnny, “The Tourist”?), I had to laugh at Andy‘s recollections of the band’s entertainment options on the way home from London last week – BT

Movies I saw on-demand / misc. entertainment on the plane home from London:

Control (the Ian Curtis / Joy Division movie) – who’da thunk a b&w artsy movie would be available on an int’l flight? Not this guy. (B+)

Transformers: Dark of Th… – That’s about how much of this brain-melting nonsense I could stomach. (D-)

[Complimentary Johnny Walker Red interlude]

X-Men: First Class – Oh, guys. By the way… Magneto started off his supervillain career as an avenging-jew nazi-hunting super-secret-agent-man-of-mystery. Also, Kevin Bacon wears a sweet cravat/neckerchief/ascot and has an all-white submarine and a small army of fem-bots and satanic henchmen. Apparently there were also X-men in this film. (A+)

[More complimentary Johnny Red]

Super 8 – Looks charming enough, and I’m sure I’ll finish it at some point, but why bother watching a movie that isn’t X-Men First Class?? (B, pending further viewing)

Moby Dick (on my Kindle) – After all the whiskey, I think I probably only read 10 pages, and I’ll probably have to read them again. (F-)

-Andy

Summer Tour (and the Living is Queasy)

As we ramp up for our first out-of-town jaunt of the season, keyboardist (and Clip Art main man) Andy Rosenstein reflects on the little things that make road life special….

When most people think of summer vacation, they probably think of the beach.  They imagine cold cocktails served with tiny umbrellas, consumed under much larger umbrellas to keep off the sun.  They might think of getting tanned/burned while hobnobbing with sexy co-eds.  They envision themselves visiting the sights of whatever seaside retirement community, Midwestern lake town, or tropical third world destination they’ve chosen.  They imagine napping outside with the wind gently tousling their hair (or mocking their baldness).

When you go on a summer tour, you may get to do some of these things, but you will spend the bulk of your time in cars and in bars.  So while you will meet some very nice, fun, and/or insane people, and you might visit some beautiful places, you can very quickly start to feel like your travels lack enough of those “brag about it later” moments.

The best cure for this feeling is to treat every cheap novelty as if it were astonishing.  That goes for side-of-the-road restaurants and shops with funny names (e.g. “Pastabilities,” and “Hair it is!”).  It also goes for strange items on restaurant menus.  If there’s a skillet that they claim only a REAL trucker could finish, why not bet one of your traveling partners that he doesn’t have the guts?

Then there’s my personal favorite: bar bathroom graffiti.  What better substitute could there be for actual local flavor, than to plumb the depths of the local drunk male psyche?  “Robot’s been f*cking with me all night!”  What could that possibly mean?  I don’t know, but some guy in Carbondale thought that it was important enough to write down.

I already have a fine photo collection of that kind of contextless nonsense, but I see every band trip as an opportunity to collect more.  If any of my shots from this trip are good enough (and relatively PG-rated), perhaps they’ll get posted on this blog.  Or not.  But that’s the idea.