Loose Wig Tour: a retrospective postscript

Well, the tour's over, and all of us are home safe and sound and experiencing the inevitable post-tour letdown. Even despite the joyous homecoming as each of us reunites with our family and friends, one cannot help a feeling of certain emptiness setting in; after spending 24/7 with our brothers-in-arms through many adventures (musical and otherwise) there is a definite feeling of loss as I write this.

After the Albany gig and the late-night afterparty, we went our separate ways. Ted drove back to the City to prepare for his journey overseas, Alex and I went, along with Eric H-S and Holly, to stay with our host Lisa for a scant 3 hours of sleep, after which Lisa went way above and beyond the call of hosting duty to wake up and drive Alex and me to the train station at 6:30am. After a bagel and coffee in Penn Station, we boarded the train to Philly where Alex got off to go get ready for his gig that night, I continued on to Atlantic City to hang with my old college friend Rachel for a couple of days before heading back Westward. The Atlantic City boardwalk was everything I'd hoped it would be. I managed to refrain from spending any money on cheap crap, even though there were some very entertaining t-shirts and souvenirs. And hermit crabs. But that's a different story.

As I think back on the past two weeks, all the things we experienced, it's hard to narrow it down to "update" size - we crammed so much into 8 days. Actually it's hard to remember a lot of it in the first place. Back home, everyone expects to hear stories... there are so many stories... but like Chinese food, it's already starting to fade from existence. If we take for granted that the MUSIC was the greatest, most amazing musical experience each and every night, and leave it at that: The moments that are going to remain are the other ones. The late-night hangs. The long car rides. The beer. The wine. The connections made with people met along the way. The tourist excursions. Actually it was hard to fit in many of those, since we were under time constraints to make it to sound checks and gigs each night, but we managed to fit in a couple of rushed photo-taking opportunities where we could. Those connections, those brushes with humanity along the journey, are the moments that will have lasting impact.

Who can forget the next-door neighbor's pad in Charleston? Who could possibly ignore the late-night hang at the restaurant in Durham? The rain that night was so warm, even at 2am, standing out there in it was like taking a nice warm shower but with clothes on. It was coming down in buckets - I got some weird looks from the others, but standing out in that rain made me feel like I was back home in the Pacific Northwest for a couple minutes. And our waitress... what was her name? Oh yeah. Caroline Jefferson! Who could forget her? Go friend her on Facebook. Do it now. Anyway, we came back to the car and discovered that the sunroof had been left open in Ted's car. His car seats appreciated the nice warm rain as much as I did.

The band got tighter as we went along. This is to be expected, of course, but it's always a fun thing to experience as we start to musically become one entity instead of a bunch of individual personalities. Makes me wonder how good it could be if this band was playing together constantly like they did back in the day. I've heard that the Basie band didn't use charts at all, they knew each other so well that they could instantly invent backgrounds behind solos and it would sound like a complex arrangement even though they were just riffing. What a joy it would be to perform on that level night after night. Mike and I were starting to get there, the phrasing and dynamics were definitely starting to happen instinctively and it was really getting easy to make music at a much higher level than the typical "chart-reading" bands we all have experienced in the past - but just imagine what that would sound like if that intuitive automatic playing extended not just to phrasing and dynamics but the actual notes themselves. What if we could all put our horns in our mouths and look at each other and then all improvise the same riff at the same time, without seeing it written down first, without talking about it first or singing it to each other - we would just look at each other and begin playing it, because we would all Know.

In the car were three intrepid adventurers: Ted "Matthau" Gottsegen, Mike "Cefaratti" Cemprola, and yours truly, Pete "Vaporators" Petersen. With gear and luggage, there was just barely enough room for three of us to ride in cramped comfort. More on that later. Somewhere on I-95 we witnessed an SUV roll over in front of us. The driver drifted all the way to the left, swerved hard right to correct, flipped over and rolled several times before coming to a stop in the median strip. He didn't look like he hit anything, but he did land upside down when he finally stopped moving. We pulled over and called 911, and about 20 other drivers were already running over to the vehicle to offer help - I think If everyone in that car had their seatbelt on, they were probably fine. If not... it could've been very bad.

We got to Durham a little while before everyone else, so there was time to go to Target. I bought another button-up shirt, because the only one I had brought with me was already starting to get funky and it was only 2 days in - Ted bought some running shoes and socks, and we also bought Powerbars and fresh fruit. I think most of us were determined to stay healthy on this tour. Unlike the last tour, when the South Carolina BBQ and the Cheesesteaks and the NYC Pizza all took their toll on our girlish figures. I for one thought maybe I would end up joining a Sumo team after last tour. This time we were wiser. This time we were more determined. This time we would return from the road leaner, meaner, better, stronger, and faster than before. And thus - the Solomon Douglas Swingtet Running Team (SDSRT) was born. To break in the new shoes, Ted, Mike, and I went for a run on the road around/near Lucien's house while we waited for everyone else to arrive in town. I discovered I'm not a distance runner in any way, shape, or form - but those guys were solid, and they waited for me to catch up each time I lagged behind. I eventually developed a complex pattern of jogging, then walking, then sprinting to catch up; in this way I was able to keep from lagging too far behind.

On the way to Norfolk we had a REALLY nice drive. The classical music while driving through the tree-lined highway was idyllic. It was easy to allow oneself to become completely transformed. We were in a different time, a different place, a different dimension. I think we stopped at "Unkle Odie's" gas station somewhere in there and got fuel and food.

By the way, speaking of fuel and food: you East Coast people might take things like this for granted, but let me say as a West-Coaster: I think WaWa is the greatest invention EVER. It's a convenience store but with touch-screens, you can touch some pictures of food on the screen and then people make the food for you right there. Unlike 7-11, where although they technically DO have something that fits the vague definition of something resembling food, it's more like you walk into a 7-11 and go over to where the hot dogs have been sitting on those roller things for like 4 days and who knows what manner of dangerous pathogens are growing in there... no, at WaWa you go in there and touch the screen where there's a picture of a cheesesteak, and then bam, you are presented with a nice piping-hot cheesesteak made fresh for you right there. There is only one thing that is awesomer than WaWa, and it is called Sheetz. Can't get those on the West Coast either. But of course we've got In'n'Out Burgers here and you don't. And really good coffee. So there.

The Norfolk gig was a lot of fun. One personal highlight for me happened while the band was on break; a few of us were over there at the bar and DJ Bill Speidel was spinning tunes; I heard the familiar opening bass line of "Uptown Sop" coming over the speakers. It was my band's recording of that tune. Thank you Pony Boy Records for putting me into national distribution, and thank you Bill for spinning my record. Here we were on a completely opposite coast from where the record was recorded/released, and a DJ was spinning it. Apparently it really is in stores nationwide. Cool. After that, several of the dancers came up to me and said "Hey, I just found out that's your album Bill was playing on the break. Nice job, that's a really great version of that song!" Mmmmm... yes it feels nice to have one's ego stroked once in a while.

After the gig, we drove an hour or so to Mechanicsville to stay at Mike's parents' house. I mean almost the entire band. Last tour only about half the band stayed at Mike's, I guess the reputation has traveled and this time everyone wanted to stay with Mike's parents. And no wonder, they're Good People. Last tour Valerie wouldn't let us leave until our bellies were full of meatball sandwiches. This time, though, we hardly saw them at all; it was a weeknight, they had to get up for work, we got in late, so it wasn't quite the epic hang that last time was. Even so, we managed to piss off Mike's brother enough to get him to stop talking to Mike for a few days. It was really hard to stay quiet - we were all up and energized from such a great gig at the Boot. We went through a case of beer because Mike couldn't get into the car to get the wine due to the fact that Ted, who had the keys, was already asleep by then. Brian H-S and Mike challenged each other to a dance-off; to this day i don't think that dance-off has happened yet so it'll have to wait until next tour.

Next morning the SDS Running Team took to the streets again. Everybody except Mike, who was still peacefully dozing in his parent's bed. Ted "Matthau" Gottsegen and Brian "ChickenLegs" Heveron-Smith, along with yours truly, ran a couple of miles. Mike came along later in the car and played the role of Burgess Meredith, dangling a PowerBar out the window just out of reach and yelling something about the eye of the tiger. I think without his motivation I personally would've collapsed long ago. After our run, Laura made us all a veggie-beef stir fry and then we were on the road again.

Upon arriving in DC; we somehow found ourselves in the center of the downtown area. I looked out the window and there's the Washington monument poking its way skyward. As Ted drove around in circles trying to find our way to the venue where the gig was, many photos of DC landmarks somehow found their way into our cameras. We worried that we might be late to sound check, but those fears were unfounded because by the time we got there, nobody else had arrived yet and we actually had to find someone to let us into the building. Then we dropped our stuff off and walked down the street; we were going to look for a coffee shop or a restaurant, the closest thing we found was a 7-11 with some hot dogs on those roller things.

The DC gig was all about playing FAST. Those DC dancers love it hard and fast. Solomon eventually threw the set list out the window and just called audibles all night; we didn't play any of the slow or groove-based tunes; it was all the up-tempo tunes all night. Laura filmed a few of the songs we did, including some great footage of some really good dancers. Several of the dancers who were there remembered us from the JMU gig we did last December, they all came up to us and said hello. We had a singer join us for a couple of tunes, Tamar Rachel. We improvised arrangements and backgrounds to play behind her. During one of her tunes, "It Don't Mean a Thing", the H-S brothers had a meltdown in the rhythm section and dropped out for a bit; the result of Solomon trying to convey information through a messenger (me) about tempo changes in mid-song. The rundown went like this: Solomon got up from his piano during one of the horn solos and walked over to where I was sitting. "Tell Brian to take an 8-bar solo and gradually speed up the tempo during his solo; then I'll take a piano solo and then you can take a tenor solo, then we'll bring Tamar back in." I remember thinking 'that's a lot of information to convey through a third party'. Did any of you ever play that game in grade school where everyone lines up, and one person at the beginning of the line whispers to the next person, then that person whispers to the next in line, and so on down the line, and by the time it gets to the end of the line it's a completely different message. That's sort of what happened I guess. i leaned back, got Brian's attention and relayed the message to the best of my ability. What I told him was "take an 8 bar solo, speed up, then Solomon will take a solo, then a tenor solo, then we'll take it home." What he heard was "doubletime for the piano solo, then go back to the original tempo for the tenor solo". So after Sol's solo, I stood up and started my tenor solo in the new faster tempo. Brian completely stopped playing, then started in half-time, then stopped playing again. Eric kept up the double time I think, then stopped when Brian stopped. Eventually both of them came back in at the faster tempo because the rest of us never stopped playing during my solo. Ah, the magic of spontaneous combustion! We gave the HS brothers grief for it afterwards, but really it was just one of those things.

That night, well actually earlier on, we discovered that half of the band still didn't really have a place to stay yet in DC. I had thought those arrangements had all been made long ago, but apparently not. I have a friend who lives in Maryland, I called her and said "sorry it's so last minute, but I need a place to stay for 3 of us." She very graciously opened up her neighbor's home to us, and so Ted, Mike, and I got a great night's sleep. Thanks to Patti-who-is-called-Max, and to Amy, for putting us up at the last minute. Next morning, we found out that there was a really nice running path down next to a stream, so the SDS Running Team once again took advantage of our surroundings. Ted and Mike ran on ahead, I took my time and jogged-ran-walked-sprinted the distance. I now know that I definitely do better at bursts of speed for short distances. Sign me up for the 100-meter-dash. In fact, put a football-shaped object in my hands and I will plow through all defenders for 100 yards - but my knees don't much like it when I try to do more than about a mile and a half at a time.

After DC we made arrangements to meet up for breakfast at an IHOP in Maryland. I don't remember much, I hadn't had enough caffeine yet by that point. I remember trying to make conversation and it wasn't happening. As my uncle Rudy used to say in the morning: "No, I'm not mad at anybody, just don't talk to me yet, it's too early."

On the way between there and the next gig (Harrisburg) was a little tiny Civil War memorial at someplace called Gettysburg. Apparently some tall guy in a stovepipe hat gave a speech there once or something. (Sarcasm doesn't work well in print.) The three of us took a slight detour and drove through the battlefield. It's a lot more gigantic than you'd think: 6000 acres. We got a map and drove around to look at stuff. We saw the farmhouse where the first shots were fired, we saw a ridge where cannons were lined up, it was definitely easy to get a feel for what kind of a bloody fight it had been. Further on down, we saw an old brick building with a big sign marked "General Robert E Lee's headquarters". It's a stark reminder that in those days the generals all joined their men on the field of battle. It wasn't like nowadays where the generals send lowly grunts out to do the fighting while they sit safely behind a desk at the Pentagon. Next to General Lee's headquarters was a pub; so we went in and raised our glasses to the fallen. We chipped in and bought a Growler of ale to take with us.

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. We arrived at the gig, set up, and rehearsed a couple of tunes. Then we had an hour or so before downbeat, so while Mike went to medicate his sore lip, I walked across the street to a South American restaurant. Had this nice pork sandwich that was made between two pieces of fried cornbread instead of regular sandwich bread. It was delicious. Then we drank heartily from the Growler before taking the stage. Jazz is one of the only vocations I can think of where drinking on the job is not only accepted, but encouraged.

Several times during the course of the performance, Solomon made the announcement from the stage: "We still don't have housing for about half the band, so if any of you would like to volunteer to host a few musicians, we would love a place to stay tonight." Mike added that if there were any cougars in the audience we would especially like to accept offers to stay with them. No takers, though.

After the Harrisburg gig, we said goodbye to Laura, our roadie/merchandiser/cook/videographer, and Lucien, our trombonist. The remaining gigs definitely won't be the same without them. We also expanded the SDS Running Team's training regimen to include arm-wrestling. Ted and I squared off in between Depth Charge/Car Bombs, but the most surprising upset of the night was Brian "Chickenlegs" H-S who eventually wore down the worthy challenge of Mike Cemprola during a lengthy and grueling battle.

Also after the Harrisburg gig, four of us ended up splitting the cost of two rooms at the Red Roof Inn in Harrisburg. Due to a mixup with Hotels.com, the rooms I signed up for on the website were actually reserved for the following night, because according to their computer system it was already after midnight when I booked the rooms. But we eventually got it worked out so we could have a roof over our heads for the night.

The drive from H-burg to NYC was made more interesting by cramming two more people into the already-cramped back seat of Ted's car. I would've thought one more person would've tipped the scales at critical mass, but Solomon's years at MIT were well spent and he was able to somehow defy the laws of physics to fit two more people, plus luggage, into the car. Somewhere around Jersey City the need for gas and a bathroom outweighed the brotherly joy we all felt at being crammed in so tightly, so Ted drove around for what seemed like an hour on bumpy cobblestone roads. We finally found a gas station and made a beeline for the bathroom. The fresh fruit we bought in Durham was really ripe by now, also, and the moldy funk from the wet seats caused by leaving the sunroof open during the Durham Deluge a week earlier; somehow it all combined with the fresh smell of Jersey to present a complex palate of sensations to our olfactory senses. Ahh, this is what Life smells like!!!

45 minutes later we were standing outside of the venue in midtown Manhattan. Irish pub downstairs, pizza joint next door, venue up four flights of stairs or a very slow elevator... ah yeah. We dropped off our stuff, went down to the Blarney Stone and toasted a pint, then Mike, Alex and I went off to go visit the legendary Sam Ash music store (where Mike used to work). I was thinking I wanted to play-test a couple of tenors, but more importantly I needed to buy reeds. I use #5 Vandoren V16 tenor reeds; they're very stiff and will hold up to night after night of high notes. I like to play up in the Lenny Pickett-zone when I can, I've got a solid double-G but any reed softer than a 5 I will blow through like tissue paper after a night of those. The box of 4's I had brought with me was almost gone, I had been going through about a reed a night for the past week or so and I really needed some 5's. (I only had the 4's in the first place because the online store I usually order my 5's from was out of stock; 4's are better than nothing.) So I asked the guy if they had any 5's. "You want a FIVE? No, man... We got none of those. Where you from? New York players don't blow that hard!"

After Sam Ash (where I also bought a stand light) we rode the subway down to Union Square to pick up the keys for the place where I would be staying. Then we rode back up to the venue and got there just in time to set up. After setting up, we all simultaneously realized how hungry we were. Unfortunately our gig was very near Madison Square Garden, where this little unknown band called Pearl Jam happened to be playing that night, so every restaurant was jam-packed. We finally found a table at the BBQ joint at the corner. Ironic; the first gig on the tour was in South Carolina, and here we were towards the end of the tour eating at a restaurant that served South Carolina BBQ. The pulled pork sandwich wasn't complaining however.

The gig that night was sweaty. From the get go the temperature in that room was cranked up to 190 degrees; my suit was dripping wet before we played the first note. Apparently there was air conditioning in the building but it wasn't in the part of the room where the band was set up. Apparently they had opened the windows to let some fresh air in but the building owner made them shut the windows because the noise was getting down into the street. If I had been in the street I would've liked the sound of Big Band jazz I was hearing, but apparently the owner didn't because he made them shut the windows. So we sweltered for the sake of the art.

A guest sax player named Lynn Gruenewald sat in with us. Her solos were energetic and driving, with an intensity level that can only come from the City. It was a lot of fun to hear her. She and I tried to dance during one of the breaks and both decided we're better musicians than dancers.

After the NYC gig, Alex and I ate some pizza at the joint downstairs, then took a cab to the lower east side where we stayed with my friend Leah, another last-minute 12th-hour negotiation. Before we left the venue, we made plans with everyone to meet in Harlem at 11am to drink coffee and hang out. Next morning, Alex and I took turns showering and then caught the subway uptown to 125th & Broadway. But nobody else was there. We eventually got ahold of Mike and found out that basically everyone else had slept in, there would be no 11am meeting. So I texted my friend Emily Braden to ask her where the best soul food restaurant in Harlem was. 20 minutes later we were eating at Jacobs on Lenox avenue between 128th/129th streets. I have to thank Emily over and over again, that was da bomb. After we were full of food and rolling out of there, Alex and I briefly entertained the notion of walking into one of the many wig/weave/hair products shops on 125th to buy eight cheap wigs for the band to wear on the following night's gig. I think if we had been able to find eight wigs for under 5 bucks we would've, but they were just expensive enough to discourage that from happening. But we did buy a couple of jazz CDs from a street vendor, one of which was "Two For The Blues" with Frank Foster and Frank Wess. We finally met up with Mike and Kate and began walking to the coffee shop where Solomon was waiting. Then Ted called, and we began to formulate a plan to all meet up later on in the afternoon to ride to Albany.

The SDS Running Team added another moniker: the SDS Urban Recon Team, as Mike, Kate, Alex and I conquered the lengthy staircase all the way to the top of Morningside Park.

Alex and I took off at that point to ride the subway back to the lower east side to get our stuff. We intended to meet up with Ted and everybody at 42nd st & 9th ave; having decided that the fastest way to get there was by cab, we walked out and hailed one. Then we sat in traffic for almost an hour. Yep, the subway would've been faster.

Anyway, we finally connected with Ted, Mike, and Solomon, and it was off to Albany for the final US leg of the tour - and my last night with this amazing band. We were late getting out of Manhattan, and we were late finding the venue, but we finally made it just in time to have about five minutes to set up and get dressed. The nice thing was that they had pizza and Guinness, so we weren't too far out of our element. We played an amazing couple of sets at the Albany Elks Lodge, and then we all went over to hang at someone named Jen's house for the afterparty. Eventually things started winding down and Lisa drove us back to her place for the aforementioned 3 hours of sleep before getting up to go to the train station.

And that's exactly how I remember these amazing eight days. All of us in the band are in agreement that we most definitely need to do more gigs together as a band - this was a living, breathing machine of personalities blended to form a single unit. I think a cross-country tour was discussed including Chicago, St Louis, Kansas City, Denver, Salt Lake, Boise, Portland, and Seattle -- and at that point we'd be poised to take the band south down I-5 for the West Coast Tour. Even though all those ideas were discussed at 3am during a wine-soaked afterparty, it is this author's opinion that this is all very doable, all it takes is for Solomon to book the dates and for you generous financial backers to dig deep and make it possible.

until then...

-- Pete Petersen

So here I am, sitting in a Starbucks off of Morningside Park in Harlem. I have been sluggish as far as writing one of these cute little emails, but I'm finally sitting down to do it. I have been requested to give all of you philanthropists an update of what the SDS has been doing from this most recent tuesday through wednesday. After asking a few sources what city we were in during that time period, the stories are starting to materialize.

I, the founder of the SDS running team, woke up in my parents' bed in Mechanicsville, VA. We had a lovely time post-gig at the Cemprola house...I think. Laura made us a lovely lunch featuring squash, onions, and a host of other hangover-fading superfoods. In my morning fog, I felt obliged to replace the case of beer we demolished and laundry detergent also. (Valerie Cemprola is a lovely woman and the quintessential neat freak...I dared not leave any stone unturned)

Ted turned the key and the 3 pirates in the Land Rover were off to the capital of the country. Washington, D.C. did not dissapoint, although Ted "I text whilst driving" Gottsegen's navigational skills did. We drove in several large dodecahedrons and eventually took a couple lame pictures of Barack and Michelle's house. The venue was a pleasure to look at, reminiscent of Alejandro Sosa's crib in Cocahmbra. Although there weren't any coke deals, the band did swing their asses off that night, despite the floor bouncing from the happy-footed dancers.

Post-gig, Vaporators, Walter Matthau, and I all stayed at a delightful bungalow house in the suburbs of D.C. (Special thanks to Max and Amy for putting us up and not making fun of us for passing out when asses contacted couches)
Ever-concerned with my bandmates' health, we got up and went for another run...this time along a wooded path next to some creek. Fast forward 2.5 miles and we were eagerly driving to IHOP #182 of the tour to convene with the knuckleheads for lunch and laughs. (Might I add that the heveron-smiths [beaker and dr. bunsen honeydew] were not in attendance...wiped out from staying up until 4 am watching "forgetting sarah marshall.")

I'm at a loss for what day it is or what city I'm in/going to, so I'll grab another Iced Macchiato Venti Super Turbo Spiced Latte Foosball Soy Lethicin Smoothie and high-tail it to Albany. Thanks for tuning in and thanks for supporting this fantastic unit of musicians/lunatics.

Cheers,

-- Mike Cemprola, president and alpha male of the Solomon Douglas Running Team

[The first photo shows the band chowing down at Potbelly before the DC gig. The second and third pictures are the view from the piano at the Jam Cellar. --Solomon]

"Pathetic!" "Awful!" "This is really sad." "Do you think they're inbred?"

These are just a few of the comments that were heard, regarding the performance of the Solomon Douglas Swingtet Running Team, as we went for our (almost) daily run on Tuesday. The previous evening's festivities had left most of us in fair/poor shape, but Ted, Pete, and I still managed to wake up (at noon) and go for a (approximately) 2 mile jog around the Cemprolas' neighborhood in Mechanicsville, VA.

The previous night we played our second gig ever at what is becoming one of our favorite venues in the entire country: The Boot, in Norfolk, VA. They feed us well, the atmosphere is warm and cozy with enough room to dance, the beer and wine selections are ample, and the two guys who run the place have amazing mustaches. Our crowd on Monday evening was slimmer than we were hoping for, but their enthusiasm made up for it. We saw several familiar faces from our previous gig at the Boot, and we might have gained a couple of new fans. One local record store owner had somehow heard about the SDS, googled us, watched a few youtube videos, and decided that we were "good enough to come out in the rain" to check us out. Respect.

As far as the music goes, this was probably one of the most swingin', energetic gigs this group has ever played. I'm obviously in no position to review it, but I can say this: we had a lot of fun playing, and the audience had a lot of fun dancing and listening. The second and third sets really started to cook, and the audience became more involved once Solomon politely explained that clapping after exceptional solos is typical jazz concert etiquette. Pete's solo on Jumpin' at the Woodside really tore the roof off. The next day a few of us watched a video of that tune and Pete gave a detailed, theoretical analysis of his solo..."bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, high note, bullshit, bullshit..." Well, it was still effective.

After the gig most of us came back to the Cemprolas' house, where ham sandwiches and cold beer were waiting for us. The hang was pretty typical. Mike announced his plan to stay awake until after the following night's gig. He also challenged me to a dance-off. Solomon bit the arm of our merch girl/roadie, Laura. Ted went to sleep early and I went up to his room with a permanent marker and a plot to write or draw something on a different part of his body for every cheap shot he's ever taken at me. Unfortunately, just seconds earlier Mike had gone up to Ted's room to get his car keys. Ted woke up, looking pretty freaked out to see Mike standing next to his bed and me in the doorway with a permanent marker. I distinctly remember him screaming at Mike and then pointing his finger at me, saying "No, not this one. You get out." Mike somehow ended up losing his glasses and falling asleep in his Dad's bed at 7 in the morning.

To close I'd like to offer all of you, the backers, a gift from me. Its the most personal gift I could think of...the gift of the written word. A haiku.

Thanks for your support
You people kick major ass
3 more days, tell friends

-- Brian Heveron-Smith

With the reconstitution of the Solomon Douglas Swingtet (8 piece special, touring edition) in Durham, NC, the tour is officially ON. We played tonight in a room that we played on our fall tour (the Black Friday MegaRecording Tour), the Triangle Dance Studio. I believe it was Laura Windley, our trombonist's wife, who hooked that up. It's one of those situations where the local swing organization is not brave enough to take Bold Action and hire an Amazing Touring Swing Band for Cheaper Than Usual, so we just say "Eff it" and decide to put on the dance ourselves.

Did it work out? Yeah; I'd say it worked out. Killer turnout for any night of the week, especially a Sunday; and we played unplugged. (The bass, guitar and piano had amps. Other than that, there were no mics.) I don't know the last time you listened to an acoustic swing band playing live and unplugged - it's been a while for this bass player - but man, it was killin'. As Solomon put it, it sort of gives you pause on the role of Technology in music. Do we need it? Well, technically every instrument we played tonight was crafted with Technology. But maybe you can take a good thing too far, and miss the point - that point being, get a bunch of young musicians in an acoustically pleasing room playing music they totally dig, get some folks to come dance to it, and it doesn't really matter what year it is. Or what day of the week. Or how long it's been since I shaved (more than a week).

The after-gig hang was a pleasant bar/grill called the Sunset Lounge, or some nonsense, where Ted and Mike reprised their roles as Designated Hecklers and sassed our poor waitress into revealing that she'd broken up with her loser boyfriend that week, seen him that very DAY, and the "lovely young girl" who he dated before her was chilling at the bar, talking smack. A fine time was had by all, along with numerous Fat Tires.

On a more personal note, warm spring rain at 2 AM in North Carolina is just another factor that makes me want to move to this fine state.

-- Eric Heveron-Smith

The first three photos show the band setting up for the gig. The fourth and fifth photos show drummer Brian Heveron-Smith learning some Lindy Hop from our merchandise expert/cook/driver/groupie Laura Pinell. The sixth photo is the band playing the last couple choruses of "One O'Clock Jump".

The seventh through 12th photos show the after-gig hang at the the Sunset Lounge. Seventh photo is Laura Pinell, Laura Windley (Lucian's lovely spouse, and the person who set up the gig), Pete Petersen, and Lucian Cobb. Eighth is Tonia Davis, a local dancer who hosted two of the band, with troublemakers Ted Gottsegen and Mike Cemprola. Ninth photo is Ted, 10th is Laura and Luke, 11th is Ted and Mike, and 12th is Ted getting the royal treatment from the Heveron-Smith brothers. The next three are driving pictures from Monday afternoon, and the final photo is the delightful Laura and Lucian.

-- Solomon Douglas

We're up to one-quarter of our $5,000 goal now, which is just fabulous. THANK YOU everyone for helping out!

The tour starts tonight (Tuesday), with the quartet playing in Asheville, NC. I arrived in Asheville the day before yesterday, and Eric and Brian (bassist and drummer) arrived last night. Lucian (trombonist) gets here this afternoon. We're all excited for our first gig.

Why are we so excited? Isn't this what we do all the time? Well, three reasons. First of all, no, this isn't what we do all the time. Usually, I travel on my own and hire great local musicians in each city where I perform, instead of traveling with my favorite musicians in the world. Getting to work with Eric and Brian and Luc is a rare treat. Second of all, it's not just one gig, but eleven gigs! And third, Asheville is a truly delightful city, and any time we get to come here it's one of the highlights of our itinerary.

(And, incidentally, Asheville is one of those cities that can't really afford to have us come and perform, so it's your pledges that are making tonight's gig possible! Thank you.)

So, given that we're one-quarter of the way towards our financial goal, I have a challenge for you. Can each of you muster up three friends who believe in what my band is doing and would like to chip in? Show them the kickstarter page (http://kck.st/aIsKlX ), show them the t-shirt design (http://solomondouglas.com/loose_wig_tshirt.jpg ). Tell them your personal reasons for wanting to support the Loose Wig Tour. If each one of you can get three new backers to sign up, then we'll reach our $5,000 goal, which means that I and my musicians won't be paying out of our own pockets to make this happen!

Thank you for everything you're doing. We love you.

Solomon

Hey everyone -

Preparations for this crazy tour are well underway. We've booked all the gigs, we've sent out facebook invitations, we've bought all our flights, and we're psychologically preparing ourselves to spend five hours a day driving, and to sleep on people's floors and couches. It's gonna be an amazing time!

Thanks so much for your support. So far, we've raised $736 of our $5,000 target, which is about 15%. That's fabulous, considering the fundraising campaign only started four days ago. We've got a ways to go, but this represents a really great start.

Now's the time to crank into high gear. Can I ask you to help spread the word about this worthwhile campaign? Yes, you! Post the widget on your blog. Post on your facebook or twitter status. (Instructions on how to do those things are at the top of the main campaign page.) E-mail your friends individually about this, and give them the URL (http://kck.st/aIsKlX).

Don't forget to tell them that they can get cool things such as dance lessons from me and from Calico, the exclusive tour t-shirt, and even an exclusive pre-release digital download of our new CD.

This tour is highly unusual because we're driving together from city to city, and performing every single night. Ordinarily, I would fly into a city, get the band together locally, play the gig, and fly out; such gigs always happen on weekends, and they generally pay for themselves. This time, however, we've got extra travel expenses because the entire band is traveling together, and we've got much less revenue from the gigs because we're playing on weeknights. That's why we need to raise $5,000!

Thanks so much for all of your help and support. Without you, this music would have no meaning.

Solomon