The Honeydogs tour diary 2: Trent Norton reaches out
|Photo by Steve Cohen from The Honeydogs' What Comes After release show at First Avenue.|
Minneapolis rockers the Honeydogs recently embarked on a tour out to the East Coast. In this tour diary, the band provides a running commentary from the road. This entry is by bassist Trent Norton.
I like to call it an 'I can touch you' tour.
Without moving from my seat, I can easily reach and touch every person in the van. Sound check and dinner will be the same. Same with the the show and the hotel. Every smelly burrito or bag of corn chips will be a shared experience. Cell phone conversations and check-ins back home are heard by all. I start counting pro-life billboards. I realize that in a messy rush out of the hotel this morning I forgot to brush & it has not been lost on my travel companions.
What we used to be able to endure for months at a time now wears me out after several days.
And I forgot about this bittersweet cocoon and I start wondering.
I'm not a musician...I'm an escape artist.
You've heard that a performer lives for that hour on stage. I'm thinking it's more like one or two songs -- or a few bars of music -- that I totally lose myself. It's addicting -- but it is only a sliver of the set that night. The thin crowd, the monitor that's shrieking with feedback, the surly sound man or expectations of the club, they only get lost for a few bars of music a night. Trying to sustain those moments of escape could be done in my basement with a few friends... but I push that thought aside -- because the mountains, bridges, hills, valleys and the perpetual motion are in harmony with the five-disc changer, and a day full of heartbreaking, beautiful road music.
That elusive Easter egg called transcendence appears and I chase it down the Pennsylvania turnpike.
Like a woman who has a sort of amnesia about the actual pain of childbirth, and upon the contractions of her second...suddenly remembers... and... I'm back.
Staring at sheer walls of rock and dirt as the turnpike twists through mountains makes Minnesota look as flat as Holland -- another place I spun my musical wheels for several years a lifetime ago.
The band ponders set list and arrangement changes to tonight's show, compliments and critiques each other -- a Honeydogs ritual while on the road. There may be nobody at the club to see us tonight, perhaps the drive was for nothing. Like Cool Hand Luke digging holes to fill holes. I smile to myself and think, "Sometimes nothing is a real cool hand."
"When you're miles away, do you finally say/ That you're free"
The Honeydogs - "Miles Away"
The Honeydogs tour diary 1: Adam Levy's dream
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