Couldn't find the keys to our car, and instead of asking somebody or looking for more than a minute, I posted up next to the fan in the living room, with a bag of shirts as my pillow. To be honest, that was one of the better sleeps I got the whole trip.
Grabbed a BLT from the bodega down the street in the morning, and we were headed back to New York.
Our first stop was The Apollo in Harlem. Brent's cousin is the Director of Production there, and we were able to get a little behind-the-scenes tour in the afternoon.
I feel the need to mention that, on the way to The Apollo, I stopped in my tracks to listen to a crunchy stereo that was playing the quintessential song for the sticky heat we were trudging through. Turns out it was "Help Is On The Way" by The Whatnauts. Shouts to the man with the serendipitous funk. I really should've picked up that mix.
Brent went to spend some time with his family, which left Rob and I to meander the streets and drive around aimlessly to George Clinton's Greatest Funkin' Hits. Rob proceeded to lay down some pretty dope freestyles (*note: sometimes, freestyling is more about feeling than actually rhyming words), and they may or may not make the tour video I'll be working on soon.
Drove a bit, drank a bit. Wound up at Fifth Estate early. Last time we performed there was for an unofficial CMJ showcase, and since then, they got three new pinball machines! Bobby Orr pinball zwag, right here:
As a result, Fifth Estate was a part of this Pinball Pub Crawl that was going on Saturday night. There were about 15 people playing, with another group following shortly after, and we decided to start the show with them in there, hoping they'd stick around for the night.
The Anonymous went on first and had their best set of the three day trek with us. People were digging what they were putting down. I was at the merch table, directly across from the bathroom. A tall attractive girl went in there early on in The Anonymous' set...came out smiling...and HOMEGIRL TOOK THE SMELLIEST SHIT. Possibly ever! Fifth Estate isn't a big place, so thick turd was wafting through the air at a rapid pace. Fortunately, we had some Glade in the car that Brent's mom gave us for the car, so it smelled like a pina colada in no time. Last thing we need is people leaving our show 'cause it smells like a county fair.
By the time we went on, just about everyone left. A group of 8-10 sat to the side of the stage for our set, and the people posted up at the bar slowly made their exit. We kept telling ourselves to go hard, it's the last show, give it all we've got, but it's hard to muster that energy up for people that have no desire to stand. That contradicts a few of my previous statements a bit, but you can only win over so many people. Not everyone is gonna praise you like you're the second coming.
After the set, I started spiraling into a deep depression, which happens more than I'll ever lead anyone to believe. I'm my toughest critic, and as a result, I'll occasionally succumb to this unshakable paralysis of my creative/upbeat self, usually over things I can't control. I was trying to figure out what caused it -- whether it was the turnout of the last show or the fact that it was the last show. The tour was over. I'd be back at work in two days.
So, shots.
Jay the bartender was pouring doubles for everyone. Now, I'm no fan of liquor. Beer all day, but liquor and I don't have the best relationship. Certain circumstances though, I feel obligated to take 'em. Jay poured them, it was the last show, I wasn't feeling too great about myself, so, fuck it. After another drink across the street, we headed to Queens to stay with Brent's cousin Christa. Rob took front seat in the taxi, and was convinced he was on either Cash Cab or Taxicab Confessions, despite Kwesi and I both telling him those shows were no longer things.
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We woke up sweating.
Christa's place was great, with the exception of the heat in the living room. She was nice enough to let us crash there, though, so I shouldn't be complaining. After we wiped our brows, we were on our way home.
I hadn't bathed in 4 days, which usually isn't a big deal, but after three shows, you get this unholy funk brewing, and it gets uncomfortable. I was too busy sulking to start driving until we got out of New Jersey. The beginning of the drive was mostly silent, but once we hit the highway, we were all back to our normal selves. I get mad cranky without food, so the Panera stop was much needed. And hey, free wi-fi! After a few baby wipes, the funk was still there, but it was far more manageable. As we left, Rob asked, "Where are we? Fuckin' Kansas?"
Up until leaving Panera, I hadn't drove. At all. I just relinquished my driving responsibilities, instead opting for cat naps in the back seat. Brent took over halfway through Ohio, just in time for a shit-storm of epic proportions to hit on the turnpike.
I woke up from one of my aforementioned cat naps to a menacing orange sky and sideways rain. We stopped on the shoulder and waited for it to die down (lanes were non-existent). I drifted back asleep and woke up a few minutes later to an all too familiar thd-thd-thd-thd-thd-thd sound. 5 minutes prior, Rob said to Brent, "Wouldn't it suck if we got a flat tire?" Who knew we were riding with Robstradamus this whole time?
A drill bit was wedged in the rear driver side rubber, and honestly, no one cared much. We decided to forego calling AAA and change it ourselves...'cause I mean, how wack would it be for a guy to come out and see three fully capable dudes standing around waiting for his help? We unloaded the trunk, Rob put on the spare, and were back on the road within 20 minutes.
A few hours later, we were all home.
Home.
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So that's it. My little tour blog. I hope you enjoyed it, for what it's worth.
I'm an amateur when it comes to touring, so I'm not gonna dole out advice for anyone. What I will say is, keep a journal while you're out there. Everyone's tour experience is unique -- the places you stay, the people you meet, etc. etc. etc. -- and if you're anything like me, waiting until you get back from the road to document your travels will put a haze over your once colorful stories. These moments are fleeting, my friend. Capture 'em while you can.
We're hoping to take our show through the Midwest soon, but it's too early to say when and where. The tour blog will come back, though. Until then, keep an eye on the SHOWS tab, 'cause hey, we might be in your backyard sooner than later.
Until next time...
