A Fiscal Quarter in the Life of Triple B: Part I

A Fiscal Quarter in the Life of Triple B: A Tale In Multiple Parts

Part One: Return to the Homeland

It’s about this time of year when you find yourself wondering: “What’s going on with those boys in BBB? How come I haven’t heard anything? Why am I not being incessantly rocked by them? Didn’t DJ say he was going to do a “weekly blog” a while back? Didn’t that last… oh… less than a week? Why is he constantly disappointing himself and all others around him?”

Well, you don’t need to be a dick about it, but your point is taken. It’s time for an update.

After scraping the last scraps of slimy turkey and crumbling, dried-out stuffing from the tupperware and in between chomps of the last vestiges of leftover pumpkin pie, join us on this postprandial journey into the electrifying world of a D-level rock band.

It started innocently enough. A week of semi-relaxation after 4 months of playing non-stop from Boston, to England, to Wales, to Scotland, to Chicago, to 75 consecutive nights in the wilds of North Dakota. But soon thereafter it snowballed into… well… nothing catastrophic, but that doesn’t make for good story-telling so we’ll call it Brother Big Bad presents: The Fall From Hell. (And by the “Fall From Hell” I mean to say, the “really bad autumn” not “we tripped over Lucifer’s trident and skinned the crap out of our knees.”)

Transitioning back to city life after a few months in the Badlands is harder than you might think. Actually starting to look for traffic again when merging onto the highway is a simple but important lesson to remember. No injuries to report, but I did spill my piping hot caramel macchiato all over my good silk camisole while swerving away from this jerkwad who had the audacity to drive straight while obeying the speed limit. Damn you, law-abiding goodnik and damn you unrestricted urban sprawl!

And while it’s certainly nice to have a steady income, rent-free living, daily breathtakingly scenic views and a chance to perform every night, it’s also nice not to have to drive to a Wal-Mart 20 minutes away every time you run out of dental floss. (I floss a lot. My dentist loves me. My gums do not.)

Before we jumped back into the live performing life, the three of us joined up with lovable corn-ball engineer Mark Brodin (you may remember him as the recording engineer and co-producer of our debut EP), Amy- the best roommate, fiddler and restaurant manager combination you’ll ever find west of the Mississipp- and Jared “Yodelboy” Mason to record some bluegrass numbers I kind-of-wrote for use in a play that I almost-sort-of music directed.

It was as confusing as it sounds.

And even though most of it ended up not being used in the final production, the process was fun and the results sounded great. Amy hadn’t played much fiddle in a while since she began her life in the restaurant biz, but she’s still got her chops (and Highland Grill has eggs benedict to die for, so head on over and tell ‘em Amy sent ya).

If I had completely written the songs and felt comfortable spreading around lyrics I kiped form the script of a play, I would totally post the songs here, but as it stands, I think the copyright police might kill my first-born, so you’ll just have to imagine the glory of Triple B and friends pickin’ the hits.

A couple days later I took my lovely to the Sara Bareilles/ Jon McLaughlin concert at the Varsity Theater. The opening band was craptastic, but the following night of groovalicious piano pop was exceptional. If you find yourself as a fellow fan of piano pop, (We have meetings every Tuesday. Coffee and snacks are served. Everything’s anonymous.) I highly recommend the Sara Bareilles record. She’s good stuff.

While I’m pimping albums anyway… our good friends Transport have released their new record The Inner Chimp exclusively online. As a proud owner of this album, I must say BUY IT. It’s really, really good. Keir’s brilliant bitter-tongued lyrics sear poignantly through the subtly sinister, yet irresistible hooks. And these boys can play. Plus, they’re really good guys, so you might as well throw 10 bucks their way, am I right?

With our brief respite from the working world over, it was time to put the rock pants back on and jump into the fray. We played several shows in our first weeks back, Marc got his eyes laser-blasted, Andy started back in playing in the band for the newly re-opened Menopause: The Musical and I began teaching young whipper-snappers how to shred in my new job as guitar instructor at a school in the suburbs.

We began our shows with a trip up to the Fargo-Moorhead vicinity to rock out with a band called Gypsyfoot. It was their last show before taking an indefinite hiatus, and they PACKED the place. We generally go over pretty well with the jam scene, so we were about as well received as we could expect in the opening act slot. G-foot, of course, made the whole place bounce and we learned the valuable lesson that just because some drunk guy enthusiastically volunteers to take your mailing list around the crowd, doesn’t mean he’ll actually do it. On the plus side: the clipboard soaked up most of the alcohol spilled on the bar, so the bartenders had less to clean up. We also got to visit with some old friends from years past in Medora and many of Andy’s peeps from P-Raps made the trip.

Gig Grade: B+

We returned home the next day, and after a hilarious Medora ’07 semi-reunion barbecue, we traipsed on down to the Ritz Theater in Northeast Minneapolis. The Ritz is a small, semi-refurbished theater with a stellar sound system, a cash bar and an amazing vibe. It has quickly become one of our favorite twin cities venues. The line-up was large and somewhat mellow but we managed to bring the rock without disturbing the theater vibe. Definitely a good time followed by more raucous mayhem afterwards with the BBB-BBQ crowd.

Gig Grade: A-

The whirlwind truly began the next week when we whipped down to the Windy City to open for the incomparable Ghettobillies in their first show in nearly a year. The crowd was immense. The show was a thrilling high-powered rockfest. The Ghettobillies blew us away with their phrenetic energy and shimmering space suits. Just as we suspected they would. The Chicago show also provided us the rare opportunity for a Tubb N’ Chubb’s Fat Funk Fiesta reunion with my college roommate Jacob. There was also a reunion of a different sort, as Valerie and Vessela from Boston’s Fluttr Effect came out to enjoy the rocktacular. Valerie made us all mix CDs of songs she wishes she had made us listen to while we were touring the UK. Sometimes I wish I was thoughtful. You know, I was voted most thoughtful in 9th grade superlatives along with my friend Jackie. I had a huge red zit right on the tip of my nose for the pictures. Very embarrassing.

Gig Grade: A+

The Chicago post-show party was supposed to go well into the wee hours, so we checked out early to stay at Jacob’s place. It certainly would have been nice to stay longer and socialize, but with an early departure time the next morning, we decided to get some rest. That’s right, we’re a practical rock band. Does that blow your mind? Wiping the crusties from our eyes and pumping our bodies full of coffeedrinks and soda pops (frickin’ caffeine!), we set off for a leisurely 7 hour drive to Mankato. Our ladies came down to the show, which was very nice, but unfortunately they made up about 98.9% of the audience. We played well, despite the lack of spectators. A couple other friends came out and we made a new friend, Brad, who would come in handy in a later, even more embarrassing show.

Gig Grade: D-

We shimmied up to Duluth the following weekend to open for the New Congress. And although it started getting pretty late, people started streaming in right as we started and it became a pretty good evening. Some friends from up north came around and the New Congress boys dropped some slick grooves like only they can.

Gig Grade: B

OK, I’m going to break this up so that I don’t overwhelm my loyal readers. You’ve been good to me. Such patience. Such kindness. More soon.

Next installment: Rollercoasters, family-time, the Music City and Triple B rocking an arena!