Tumbledown House

Way Down South of Town

2010-03-13T13:11:00.007-07:00

Last weekend we had the pleasure of playing
twice in one day, in the company of splendid
support. The adventure started innocently enough
in a gorgeous private home in the foothills of Tucson
and ended with much debauchery in a little mountain
town called Bisbee. First we played a celebratory
combined birthday party in the prettiest venue we've
played yet. It was the private home of landscape
architect, Joe Prchal and it was all in the name of
Steve Prchal, visiting from his Costa Rican butterfly
farm, and Julie Dorley, staunch supporter of
Tumbledown House from here to Boston and
most places in between. We were treated to some
great lunch, delicious sangria (perfect for the warm
day), and a very friendly, supportive crowd. Perfect
ingredients for a show.

Then we packed up and drove south to Bisbee, a
favorite spot of ours although we've only had the
chance to visit once before. Bisbee is the kind of place
that's big on theme parties and costumes (lucky for us).
The whole town might even rally for a Pajama Day and
everyone will go to work in their sleepwear and robes,
and this might be an average Thursday. They just like it.
That's what we heard anyway. It's a town full of quirky
artists, poets, musicians and hippies...and they're not
shy about drinking. It's hard to offend people down
there. And it's easy to fall in love.

So when Karyn was on board for a speakeasy-
themed party at her bar, Hot Licks, we were
excited to see if the costume-happy rumors
were true. Indeed they were. Hot Licks was
decorated to the nines, complete with cigarette
girls, handmade gin stills, old fashioned signs,
and a gorgeous staff that not only looked fabulous
but seemed far from disgruntled about having to dress up.

Our drinks were free, the bar was slammed, the sound man was
accommodating and the crowd was hot. In the world of music,
this is pretty much nirvana. Just when I thought it couldn't get
any better, we happily realized Bisbee is also big on audience
participation. Praise Jeebus. We handed out 24 kazoos (always
give 'em somethin' for free) and Bisbee joined in with a rousing,
if not patchy rendition of Cash's "Ring of Fire" (we'd never played
it before. Bisbee was forgiving).

Yep, those are fake mustaches
made of real hair on real women dressed as men.
Fabulous.

This crowd came all the way from Tucson
to join in the fun and it was great to have
some familiar faces in the crowd. Once we
were sufficiently sweat-soaked, feathered,
and drunk, we headed over to St. Elmo's
down the way (since Bisbee is built directly
into the sides of mountains, everything is
down or up a steep ramp or stairs from the
next thing. I don't think even Mormons could
pass for sober when navigating these alleys).
St. Elmo's is the kind of place where 4 out of
5 dreams go to die. So I refrained from posting
those pictures.

By morning we were ready for some hang-over
cures. Turns out the best place to relieve the devil's
symptoms is Dot's Diner.

Dot's (max. occupancy: 10) is connected to
The Shady Dell, whose proprietors were in
attendance the night before. We got some greasy
breakfast in us, complete with a perfect strawberry
shake, and then we strolled around the Dell, which
is a motel of sorts made up of antique trailers, a
bus, and a boat, all of which hold true-to-the-era
records, record players, tvs, magazines, board
games, etc. that you can enjoy throughout your
night's stay. It wasn't last night's booze talking;
I fell deeply in love with this place and promised
myself it would be mine someday, if only for a night.

We just can't seem to have a shitty time in Bisbee.
And we have the makings for a shitty time, believe me.
So thank you, Bisbee. We'll see you again at Hot Licks
on April 30th for our west coast tour kick-off!

Keep In Mind I Have To Lick That When You're Done

2010-01-18T18:38:00.022-07:00

Since leaving Bozeman, we've met a lot of cats out there.
Cats that are just doin' what they're doin', not because
they have to and not because they were asked to, but
strictly because neither of those two things apply to
them. These cats shared their homes with us, and
in some cases their beds, sofas, and kitchens.

Some were very welcoming. Some were pretty neutral, I
think. And some were scared shitless of us and refused
to surface for pictures. But most were welcoming.
And most of them gave us their hair to remember them by.
Dogs do this too, but I don't think they know they're
doing it. They don't give you that look, as you're leaving,
that says, "You know, I did this as a token of my respect for
you. I didn't have to do it at all. You'll meet other cats
out there, and they might not be so forthcoming. They
might not leave a mark on you (or your garment bag)
the way I did. You'll see."

So this blog is for the cats that I do remember.

I even included Suki (Sookie?)

despite the fact that (as I mentioned) she pissed
all over my garment bag, inside our van, the
morning we left New Orleans.

And of course I included Mr. Adventure.

In fact, I believe this is Mr. Adventure's second
mention in our blog, for obvious reasons.

And I included M&M and Paddywack even though
their paranoia of the ceiling fan and their obvious,
physical intolerance of a closed door make for
disjointed attempts at sleep each night. Not to
mention the fact that the sounds they make while
licking their kitty parts, or in between
their toes, is enough to make us want to vomit a
hairball or two ourselves.

They still get mentioned here. They still get a
liberal dose of lovin', some hearty rubdowns,
and a few nonsensical, guttural phrases from us
while we scratch behind their ears with ferocity.
They still get remembered.

Celebrated, in fact.

So here's to irregular sleeping patterns, hidden
litter boxes, and nine lives (if only Ford vans
could do the same). Here's to licking away the bad,
napping in the sunshine, and making games out of
literally nothing. Here's to reigning supreme over
the confined, physical space given.

And here's to showing obvious gratitude by replacing an
already comfortable silence with the best sound on earth.

2010-01-11T11:55:00.001-07:00

We uploaded two MP3s from our radio show last week. The Race Track Song can be streamed or downloaded here - http://ping.fm/ZT01j Die hard TDH enthusiasts can get the whole show here - http://ping.fm/RCNTO

Fear, Loathing, and The Museum of Jurassic Technology

2009-12-23T11:07:00.004-07:00

On a recent trip to L.A. we met up with our good friend and special FX genius Brian Emerson. Upon his recommendation, we decided to spend the day at The Museum of Jurassic Technology. Now, if you're anything like me, you're probably asking yourself "WTF does that mean?" After all, how much technology was there during a period of time that ended 150 million years ago, and why the hell would anyone want to go look at it? I tried to ask Brian these questions and he replied that it is better that he not attempt to explain it and instead let the museum speak for itself. After vising the museum I must admit that I still have no idea what the hell Jurassic Techology means, but would instead describe the museum as the most amazing collection of arcane and esoteric curiosities I've ever seen.

The first room that caught my eye contained a collection of micromosaics created by micrologist Henry Dalton in the 1800s. The miniscule works of art are viewed through a microcope and were created with a boar's bristle used to manipulate scales taken from butterfly wings while breathing through a tube. Unbelievable.

We then proceeded to a room dedicated to pre-scientific home remedies. The museum describes these as 'vulgar remedies', which is a gross understatement. Take, for example, the lovely display pictured here, under which a caption describes that mice on toast can be eaten to prevent bed-wetting. I'm not sure exactly what mice baked in a pie is used for, but would imagine that it's quite effective at inducing vomiting.

One display instructed that after losing a tooth, one must salt the tooth and bury it or else spend the afterlife searching through a pail of blood for the tooth. One exhibit warned that beating your child with an elderstick will stunt his or her growth. Another suggested sharing a bowl of milk with a dog to rid yourself of fever.

My favorite exhibit was a collection of microminiatures created by Hagop Sandaldjian. Pictured here is an honest to god (no pun intended) microscopic pope nestled comfortably in the eye of a fucking needle! Just look at his wee crucifix!

The microminiatures were so small and so fragile that a sneeze could destroy a piece of work entirely. Imagine trying to find this sucker in shag carpet. Hagop had to be so precise that he ultimately learned to apply his brushstrokes in between heartbeats. When Mr. Sandaldjian immigrated to the U.S. in 1980, he set out to be a violinist, but was so disheartened by his ability to find work that he decided to support himself and his family by creating tiny little statues instead. I find this to be a very amusing and telling commentary about the music business.

There is too much to see at The Museum of Jurassic Technology in one day. Other noteworthy parts of the museum include gorgeous 3-D X-ray photographs of flowers, a collection of failing dice, an entire room devoted to trailer park culture, and a library containing all things Napoleon (of course, who else?). Upstairs you will find a small theater, a display of different cat's cradles, and a very nice tearoom where you can discuss all of the weird shit you have seen with your friends. I found the Museum to be so incredibly fascinating that I can't imagine going back to L.A. without stopping in for a visit. After the museum we stopped for an In-and-out burger and watched The Princess and The Frog, which was delightful. Then we caught a Greyhound back to Tucson which will forever remain one of the most excruciating experiences of my life.

Cheers,
T.R.

Smitten by St. Charles and Utterly Ravished by Roux...

2009-11-30T10:56:00.004-07:00

Dear readers,

Some of you may have been wondering why, although our sojourn in lusty New Orleans ended weeks ago, we have yet to write about it. Maybe we've been very busy. Maybe we've been lazy. Most likely it has just taken this long for my brain cells to regroup in order to form cognitive thought patterns that I can transform into a coherent blog entry. Here is my attempt:

Our first order of business upon arrival was to locate The McKendrick-Breaux House, which was to be our restorative sanctuary during our stay. We found the B&B without incident and stepped out of the van to be greeted by Brett, our gracious host. Now, before showing us to our room, before giving us a tour of the B&B, before we even found a good parking spot for the van, Brett proudly informed us that he is the owner of the largest archive of historical yearbooks in the U.S. (and quite possibly the world). So, if your great-grandmother went to an obscure two-year vocational college in rural Kansas to study basketweaving in 1912, Brett most likely has a book with her picture in it. His collection holds over 6,000 books, mostly printed between the 1860's and 1930's. Truly amazing.

We found The McKendrick-Breaux House luxurious, comfortable, centrally-located, and safe. We highly recommend it to anyone looking for a place to stay in NOLA. In addition to providing the nicest room we've ever stayed in on our own dime, the MB House is also home to our new favorite feline, "Mr. Adventure", whose preferred activities include searching for action among the courtyard foliage, apprehending many sorts of insects and rodents, and enjoying an afternoon stretch. Here he is being stretched by yours truly; I'm apparently an excellent cat stretcher and have added it to my resume of qualifications.

On our first night out on the town we paraded through the quarter, stumbled drunkenly down Frenchman Street, and made our way to the All-Ways Lounge to check out the venue that we would be performing at in a matter of days. After walking through the door, we were treated to, lo and behold, FULL FRONTAL MALE NUDITY. That's right folks, it was naked karaoke night. And there, on stage, was a man with his trousers down singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart". During the course of the evening, G and I were the only ones to keep our clothes on. At the end of the night all of the contestants lined up, seen in the pic here. I have censored this photo in case you are at work, in a library, or are an employee working after hours at The National Science Foundation.

In the days that followed, Gillian and I enjoyed all of the obligatory touristy activities mandated by a city such as New Orleans. We soaked up all sorts of music in clubs, bars, and on the street. We stuffed ourselves full of crawfish etoufee, jambalaya, and other combinations of butter, flour, and seafood, we became fans of The Saints (who dat?), munched on hot beignets and sipped cafe Aulait at the Cafe Du Monde, we stopped at The Napoleon House for a Pimms Cup, and we checked out Voodoo Authentica for a quick study of Haitian religion. It was all relatively tame until:

Halloween in New Orleans is a sinners paradise. You can dress up as a scantily clad member of the opposite sex, drink enough booze to kill an elephant, traipse around the quarter, vomit all over yourself, and STILL not cause a scene. We realized what we were in for when we hopped on the overly packed St. Charles streetcar to catch a ride down to the quarter. Every cubic inch of space was occupied by a man dressed as a gorilla, a deflowered lady of the night, or a pervert dressed up as Peter Pan. This pic unfortunately doesn't do it much justice. It was a blast. Gillian dressed up as Dolly Parton (prior to plastic enhancement) while I donned a (much less successful) costume resembling some sort of 80's butt rock stoner. We had a great gig at the Allways Lounge, met a variety of colorful people, were treated to wonderful performances by the Panorama Jazz Band and March Fourth (old favorites from our PDX days), and eventually caught a cab ride home in which I drunkenly tried to converse with the driver in Hebrew, even though he claimed to be from Pakistan. I'm still fairly certain he was lying. Some of the night was a blur, but I clearly remember a "remove your costume contest", some heavy booty shaking, and the wildest costumes I've ever seen. Thank you New Orleans and The Allways Lounge for providing the most insane Halloween of all time.

The following days were spent relaxing, booking more gigs, and preparing for our next shows in Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. We spent some time with our new friends Clara and Seth Pincus (pictured here) who took us to The Rock n' Bowl on our last night in town. The Rock n' Bowl is a New Orleans institution of sorts and Zydeco night is an exemplary display of New Orleans dancing and merrymaking. One elderly fellow named Ben was celebrating his birthday by dancing with every girl half his age. Here he is twirling an ecstatic Gillian around the dance floor; in all of the years I've known her, I've NEVER seen her dance like this. Just look at that smile. I'm not sure why Ben has a glowing orb around his prostate region in this pic. I'm guessing it's some sort of testament to his youth and virility; I probably shouldn't have mentioned it.

There are so many more stories that will go untold, and many more photos that will go un-uploaded. Of all the cities we have seen on our tour, no other place captured our hearts, satiated our appetites, and pleasantly drained our wallets like New Orleans. We absolutely can't wait to return to see all of our new friends and watch the saints go marching in.

Cheers,
TR

Tons of music and my rising cholesterol level..

2009-11-09T14:21:00.004-07:00

One of the first things we did after leaving D.C. was stop in North Carolina for some barbecue. We instantly noticed that, even though we had only driven a few hours, people were speaking very differently, and that we had finally entered the great, unfamiliar frontier known as the South.

"Well, sheeiiit Gillian, I suppose we better scrounge up some of that there Caroliner barbecue" I said, strapping on my overalls and kicking the pigs out of the van. "I reckon" Gillian replied.

So we stopped at the Piggly Wiggly, or the Mr. Pig, or whatever it was called, and were promptly served up big glasses of extremely sweet tea, a little bit o' mac and a ton of cheese, and a portion of pulled pork which was absolutely slathered in vinegar based barbecue sauce, which for the record, sucks.

We then spent an entire week lounging around an apartment in Nashville belonging to our dear friend, Libby Mundy. Libby proved to be a gracious hostess and we had a wonderful time hanging out with her and her family. We went to a delicious "Meat and 3", which basically means meat and your choice of three other heart stopping sides (that most likely also include meat). It was awesome.

While in Nashville, we played an open mic at the Bluebird cafe. 45 other performers showed up that night including a duo named "Poochie and Whisker" who were really adorable, entertaining, and easy to make fun of. Most songs that night revolved around pickup trucks, drinking beer, and jesus, so as you can imagine, we stuck out a little. One guy wrote a really creepy song from the point of view of a child who was kidnapped and very scared. I notified the authorities who have hopefully already searched the guy's basement, freezer, and backyard.

After leaving Nashville, we had a quick stopover in Memphis to see if Elvis or B.B. had settled the age old dispute of who deserves the real title of "King" (they haven't) and headed on down to New Orleans, which deserves it's own blog entirely. Stay tuned.

Rain. Art. Sushi. And the President.

2009-10-27T14:07:00.004-06:00

Whew! Time flies when the van you're driving gets 10 miles to the gallon. If you, or someone you know, would like to sponsor our next tour in an all-together green light, we're ready to combine your money with our good intentions.

Pennsylvania, let's see. We were soggy. And at one point there were tears in Philly, but that led to free parking so: embarrassing, yes, but economical. We rolled into Washington D.C. and had just enough down-time to experience the following: some serious museum time, a home-made sushi fest made by Liz (where we met a bunch of cool people who work their asses off, including a health care lobbyist who was very secretive about his work), warm hospitality via two lovely friends Emily & Cecile, hopeful Obama sightings, and more rain. Lesson learned: you have to drive all the way to D.C. to hang out with a pink fairy armadillo (somethingus truncatus).

Observe the following pictures: 1) pink fairy armadillo 2) health care lobbyists 3) far more home-made sushi than can fit in a doggie bag

Now, an interesting phenomenon has taken place within certain audiences in certain cities. It is a silent practice that reveals itself at the end of our shows. Some audience members seem to be sketching away while we play and, lucky for us, they deliver the goods when we're done. Sometimes the depiction is of one of us, or both of us, or just a body part of one of us. And this is fascinating behavior. Here are some representations.

The first picture is a napkin sketch done in Cincinnati. The artist handed it to Tyler as he walked past us and out into the rain. Deliciously mysterious! The next two pictures are from Cecelia who sketches musicians in Potsdam, NY. She can be found at welcometothecasbah.yolasite.com. The pink picture is actually the first bit of art we received. It was done in Milwaukee and handed to me with this quote: "This is what your eyes look like when you roll them back in your head." No doubt a striking resemblance. Thanks!

We left D.C. with a hangover (thanks, Cecile and Co.!), much appreciation for the very respectful listeners at Comet Ping Pong (thanks for the gig, Emily!), and more rain and snow on our heels. We made our way down to Tennessee with a quick stop-over in Ashville, NC. Somehow we found ourselves driving through The Shire to get there. Seriously. The Shire. Although gorgeous and tasty and music-filled, the snow found its way to Ashville too, so we saddled up Roci and headed to warmer pastures.

Up next: Tumbledown House accidentally finds religion in Nashville.

Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough..

2009-10-12T10:19:00.004-06:00

Greetings dear readers! Back in Portsmouth we were able to find a glass wizard who outfitted poor Rocinante with a nice, sturdy piece of lexan to cover her embarrassing windowless hole and prevent rainwater and confused birds from entering our vulnerable vehicle. Here's our new friend Greg running a bead of black silicon while Gillian and I make jokes about the sticker collection on his toolbox. After being properly weatherproofed and invoiced, we made our way to the Montiki and got ready for our show.

The Montiki is a karaoke bar put together by the talented and resourceful Monica Dorley. Monica has done an impeccable job of transforming her basement into a full-on party paradise. Look no further than Monica's collection of shrunken heads for an idea of how appropriately the Montiki is decorated. I've never seen anything like it. Our show was well attended by many wonderful folks and afterward we were treated to some very rambunctious karaoke with highlights including "Magic Man" by Heart and "Leather and Lace" by Don Henley. Gillian and I contributed to the evening with a rousing rendition of "Love Shack", but the real magic was yet to come. Apparently Monica Dorley, in addition to her skills in graphic design and interior decorating, has some pretty sick Michael Jackson dance moves. After a little prodding, she agreed to demonstrate, only after going upstairs to retrieve her silver sparkling Chuck Taylors. Here she is rocking just like the King of Pop prior to the coronary. Behold:

Who's bad now?!? The Dorleys clearly are not to be fucked with. The next day we gathered our stuff and headed down to Boston where we enjoyed a few days off with family and met some old friends. We played a house concert at a gorgeous residence in Newton that could only be described as "artistically decadent". Thank you Karen and Joel for hosting our show! We were treated very kindly by all of our family, friends , and other guests and we thank you for all of your generosity. Countless thanks also go out to Julie and Susana Dorley for their work and coordination putting this together. The day after the show we met some friends for dinner and I somehow managed to convince Gillian to split a 'Scorpion Bowl' with me, whose ingredients weren't listed but proved to be very refreshing, tropical, and intoxicating. It was perfect.

After Boston we headed back to Burlington, Vermont and played a wonderful gig at the Skinny Pancake. The Skinny is located right on the Burlington waterfront and serves all manners of delectable crepes. The friendly staff treated us to an amazing dinner, desert, and a thorough sampling of local brews. After the gig, I performed some emergency electrical surgery on my ailing amplifier and we set out to NYC.

We had a great time playing at the Living Room in New York City on Saturday night! The sound was the best I have heard yet. Having never played in the city before, I was convinced that we had accomplished something great by booking a slot at the Living Room on a Saturday night. That dream was crushed when I heard the guy following us play a Bob Marley cover with his fly down. What a shame.

I'm convinced that there is at least one of everything in New York. If you're looking for a blind guy that plays the blues, there's probably at least two dozen. If you're looking for a midget prostitute, there's probably at least five. If you're looking for a crazy bastard that walks on broken glass all day, there's one at the Spring Street subway station. Here's a pic to prove it.

With high spirits, we continue our tour south at this point, which is convenient because we spent last night in Poughkeepsie, New York (which means powerful kingdom in a native tounge) and it was rather frigid.

Thanks for reading! We hope to see you somewhere down the road.

Cheers!
TR

Tumbledown House gets Schooled!

2009-10-05T10:44:00.003-06:00

Most of the time, I walk around pretending to know as much about pop culture as anybody, but I was just recently reminded that it's simply not true. Derek Maus (pictured here with magnetic poetry pieces in his mouth) in Potsdam, New York knows more about art, music, literature, and obscure Cold-War era Russian satirists than me, you, or anybody you know. In addition to being a professor at SUNY Potsdam and Fullbright Schollar, he is also an excellent concert promoter who brings great bands to Potsdam solely to enhance its music scene, and an all-around good guy.

We are deeply appreciative of all of the good people of Potsdam for their gracious hospitality. We had a great time playing for you, and I might also mention that I really enjoyed getting wasted at the Open Mic night and singing a particularly sloppy rendition of David Bowie's "Space Oddity". Good Times.

Prior to Potsdam, we found ourselves in Cleveland, drinking toddies at the wonderful Barking Spider Tavern. The Barking Spider is one of the last few clubs that actually has live music seven nights a week, and hosts a slew of wonderfully kind and eccentric characters such as our new friend Miles. Miles has one eye and likes to hang out at the barking spider and build miniature buildings out of cardboard. He gave us one for the van. It is awesome. Not pictured here is Charlie James Brown, who somehow manages to embody both of his namesakes, is one hell of a picker, and rocks a decent amount of bling. Also not pictured is 'weird cat guy' who walks around with a cat that is too cool for anyone on his shoulder. Here's to you 'weird cat guy'.

In other news, we have both fully recovered from our H1N1, and are pleased to report that it's not such a big deal. Rocinante suffered a mild tragedy while we were driving briskly on a gorgeous Vermont highway. Apparently some air pressure differential high tech physics shit caused one of dear Rocinante's window to spontaneously explode. This happened to coincide
with a torrential downpour which lasted about 16 sleeping-bag drenching hours. Repairs will be underway shortly.

We've played quite a few shows that aren't mentioned here.. We had a great time at the Midpoint Music Festival in Cincinnati, saw an incredibly rocking blues singer in Burlington, and enjoyed a very nice evening at the Howe family farm in Gilford, New Hampshire. If you happen to be near Gilford, you simply must check out Beans and Greens. It's like coming home to a place you've never been to before. After leaving Gilford we connected with old friends in Portsmouth and are preparing for a great night at the Mon-tiki.

Thanks to everyone who has helped us in our journey thus far!

Cheers,
T.R.

Cheese Curds and Chowda

2009-09-29T19:27:00.002-06:00

We were warmly welcomed by friends, K. and B., into the loving arms of Madison, Wisconsin. K. and B. are hip sociologists who live in a hip neighborhood and do hip Phd work. We got to relax for two whole nights in these surroundings, all the while feeling not-quite-cool-enough. We got some long-overdue curry in our bellies (K's suggestion via Lao Laan-Xang. YUM), and a dinner at The Weary Traveler, which had a great menu and even better atmosphere. We soaked up some local humidity, gaped at houses and farmer's markets that could give Portland, OR a run for its money, and tried to accomplish as much business as possible.

Quite satisfied with ourselves, we sauntered down to the Glass Nickel Pizza for our show. The booking was a little last-minute so the crowd was understandably on the small side. In fact, I think they were all employees of the GNP, plus B. who joined for a beer on a school night (awesome). Now this crowd may have been slight, but My God, it was mighty. Dare I say, the best audience yet????? There were screams, there were cheers, there were free shots and toasts (now, to be honest, there WASN'T any breast-signing or panty-throwing, but that's what a second tour is for!!!). The pictures didn't turn out, but we were tickled pink, as they say, and went home with big smiles and even bigger love for Madison, WI. If only it didn't get freakishly cold there in the winters.

On the way "home" to K. and B.'s, we stopped by the ultra-hip Mickey's Tavern, took many a stoic, self-pleasing picture, and lamented that so many bars generally sell all the same liquids, so why not put the extra effort into interior design? Show them the light, Mickey's!

Onto Sheboygan:
Not only does this town satisfy a deep and urgent wish to play a show in all the locations ever mentioned in a Tom Waits song (and for the record, we've already hit Euclid Avenue, Kankakee, Tipp City, and we left Montana) , but there are some big ol' juicy hearts to be found, and we're willing to make the hunt easy for you. They're at The Green Room on Indiana Avenue. Jerry, Cleo, and Jackson welcomed us into their family, where we met Montana Skies in a serendipitous double-booking. The poster read, "Tumbledown House from Montana and Montana Skies from Georgia". So true. What a night! If you haven't educated yourself on the works of MT Skies, check 'em out. We're willing to bet you haven't seen a cello ravaged in public quite like this. Post-show, we took lessons from the venerable scholar Cleo, on the intricate study of Horny Buffaloes. Delicious!

We couldn't help but notice that the man in the front left of the picture, who goes by "Chowda" bore an uncanny resemblance to a certain bartender on a certain longest-running-animation/show-on-TV. Take another look:
Or perhaps you would argue he looks like a certain tall, lanky next-door-neighbor on a certain TV show whose title is Seinfeld. Either way, Chowda promised to fix the overwhelming gas smell in our van the next morning, despite the fact that he's not a mechanic. This all made perfect sense in light of the horny buffaloes, but by morning we were treated to a civilized breakfast by Montana Skies and felt the old pull of the road. Thanks to Scott (Buffalo Joe Band) for letting us take up his real estate, facilities, and for supplying Tyler with beer until dawn. Sheboygan, you snuck up and stole our tattered little hearts.

Off we went in search of bright lights through the corn fields and dairy barns. Our GPS system seems to have been programmed by a crack head, and often steers us directly into the heart of the ghetto. That's how we knew we had arrived in Milwaukee. After a few Alice Cooper quotes (via Wayne's World), we arrived at the fabulously decorated Art Bar:

This bar was decorated by Don (likely the coolest man in Milwaukee and surely the best hugger within city limits) who after 15 years as an interior decorator, decided to design a bar that HE would actually hang out in. Multiple local artists are featured including a "Painting of the Week" which is one canvas that is repainted by a new artist every week. After a year, they take it down, throw a huge party, and cut the thick painting into 52 pieces and distribute a chunk to each contributing artist.

Everywhere one looks in this quirky lay-out, there is something subtle but fabulous to draw the eye. Bottle caps (from sodas no longer in existence) intricately placed into a pattern on two huge columns, a row of wine corks mid-wall and all the way around the room, a collage of paint-by-number portraits...It really deserved a whole blog itself but I'm in a cheap motel room and probably riddled with H1N1, so forgive me, Don! I will mention, however, that he owns the bar next door as well ("Two") and designed it with the theme of couples, lovers, and flirtation. There are kissing booths that are never entirely private, nothing but love songs on the jukebox, and sexy red lighting to go with red retro furniture, flooring, and walls. Everyone looks phenomenal in there. Really. Suspiciously good.

We caught a fantastic dinner at the best Vietnamese restaurant in the city (of course we forgot the name), which happened to be on the same block, and our inner urban muse started to feel whole again.

We had our first repeat audience member who saw us on a fluke in Sheboygan and made the effort to come find us in his native Milwaukee. Thanks, Dave! Hmm, hope I got that right. Milwaukee, we will see you again soon, Darling.

Buttered cornbread, a hot ride in the caddy, and a tomahawk to the face!

2009-09-23T11:28:00.004-06:00

My dear friends: in reporting on our evening at Palmer's Bar in Minneapolis on Sunday I'm not sure what should be included and what should be left to ferment in the whiskey soaked annals of the bar's checkered past. Our evening began with a white-knuckled navigation of the Minneapolis freeway system, being the first real driving experience in heavy urban traffic with the trailer. Having arrived in the West Bank (which is only marginally safer than the region of Israel bearing the same name), we scanned the dismal parking situation until we found a suitable spot large enough for Rocinante's proud and healthful girth.

A brief inspection of Palmer's interior quickly revealed that this night was likely to be among the most memorable that we've shared. An extremely diverse crowd was at once welcoming, the staff was incredibly polite and considerate, and musicians were setting up on a dimly lit stage in the corner. We noticed that the piano was held up on cinder blocks and that there were chains suspended from the ceiling. Additional musicians continued to shuffle in. We took our seats and sat attentively as the band began.

This gentleman here is Cornbread Harris. He is 82 years old, has no teeth, and has been playing music twice as long as I've been alive. There were two separate film crews present, each filming a different documentary about this man, which may give you an idea of the level of mystique that surrounds him. He doesn't drink, doesn't go to the doctor, and can still tour for weeks at a time or capture the heart of a young girl. Honestly, I've never seen anything like it. At one point, he was giving a rundown of the events that were to take place that evening. He seemed to be reading off a slip of paper and mentioned 'Tomahawk', which I thought might be a new misinterpretation of Tumbledown House. I was delightfully mistaken.. More on that later.

Cornbread shares the stage with a slick, fast-handed rockabilly piano player named Cadillac Kolstad, who recently returned from New Orleans. Cadillac wears his hair in a thick top-heavy pompadour that is reminiscent of a cross between Elvis and a funeral director. As the music heats up, Cadillac's foot starts pounding, he stands, beats his hands on the piano, and the once impecabbly groomed pompadour flails wildly, spilling greasy hair all over his face. Amazingly, after the song is over, he whips out a comb and with a couple of well honed swipes, his 'do is back to its original position. This band uses no electricity for its instruments (vocals being the only exception) which I have an increasing amount of respect for. So many acts these days rely on excessive volume to hold their audience captive, and it's extremely refreshing to see a band that doesn't need electricity to convey intensity.

After Cadillac pounded out a few more numbers, a few gals strutted in dressed as Native American vixens, and I saw that Tomahawk was not another mispronunciation of Tumbledown House, but was in fact a Cherokee themed burlesque dancer. Of course! I should have known! So she proceeded to get up on the piano and stomp her moccasin-clad feet so hard on the lid that I was almost certain she would break through the wood. Lo and behold, she commanded a keen sense of balance as well as a thorough understanding of the structural integrity of a vintage piano. As the night progressed, clothing may or may not have been removed, and I may or may not have pictures that won't be posted here.

In conclusion, I must HIGHLY recommend that anyone in the Minneapolis area go check out Cadillac vs. Cornbread on Sunday nights. Like all good things, this too will someday end, and I pity the fool who has the opportunity to witness such a unique and respectable act and passes.

Our set was received very well, and we thank all of the kind folks who bought CDs, showered us with generosity (and whiskey), and put us up for the evening (thanks Adam). The night wouldn't have been complete without a trip to the Hard Times Cafe, which is a seperate blog entry all together.

We begrudgingly left Minneapolis, and spent a relaxing evening camping near Lake Wissota near Eau Claire, WI and headed to Madison, which easily captured our hearts with Laotian cuisine, hip coffee shops, and close views of the lake. We look forward to our show at the Glass Nickel tonight, and a great lineup tomorrow with Montana Skies in Sheboygan. An article was written about the Sheboygan show. You can check it out here.

Also, check out more info (including some great youtube footage) on Cadillac, Cornbread, and lady Tomahawk here.

Cheers!
TR

The Wheel in the Sky Keeps on Turnin'

2009-09-20T14:08:00.002-06:00

Greetings from the road! Our trusty steed, Rocinante, has now carried us safely over a thousand miles to the quiet little town of Mankato, MN, where I sit now enjoying a caffeine buzz and recalling the last few days for our beloved readers.

Gillian's birthday party was a thoroughly enjoyable evening! Special thanks go out to Corkworks Wine Co. for contributing to the tasty reds and whites, Archer's Mob for pumping out the perfectly appropriate groove tunes, Rhea for providing the delicious gluten-free goodies, Chum and Sally for all of their hard work and crisis management skills, and all of our friends and family from near and far who pitched in to make the celebration nothing short of spectacular.

We had a great time at the Filling Station, and our Bozeman crowd really came through to send us off in style. Our first stop on our national tour was Billings, which we found to be a little anti-climactic after the excitement of packing up the van and setting out upon the open road. Nonetheless, after picking up Gillian (see attached photo), we had a great time playing at the Railyard. Special thanks go out to Morris for bringing a wonderful group of folks to our performance! After the show, we braved the mean streets a bit and found some extremely drunk guys to kick our trailer for us (thanks dude!) and headed off.

In the morning, we found ourselves in gorgeous Spearfish, South Dakota. Not knowing what to expect, we were pleasantly surprised to find a very inviting landscape whose natural beauty could rival that of Penelope Cruz and a population whose taste for booze could give Bukowski a run for his money. The staff and patrons at the Spearfish Chophouse and Whiskey Bar couldn't have been more generous and accommodating. They even named a shot after us: a scrumptious concoction consisting of whiskey, ginger, and grenadine. A few of these inspired one of the largest dance parties we have ever seen to our music and a very pleasant sing-along rendition of 'Rocky Racoon' to close the show.

A quick note: While in the black hills I read a little about DUSEL, the deep underground science and engineering laboratory that is currently in construction in Lead, SD. When completed, the lab will be the deepest underground facility in the world at 8000 feet. The idea of scientists in white coats studying things like dark matter and neutrinos over a mile and half under the surface of the earth appeals greatly to my inner dork, and I look forward to following this project because I think it is so damn cool.

After an extremely long drive to Sioux Falls, we arrived at McNally's, which has the most amazing air ventilation system inside a venue that I've ever seen. The pub had a gorgeous interior and we were treated very kindly by the manager (thanks Lacy) and patrons. After the show, we hit the road again and had one of the best nights of rest in the van thus far.

Tonight we play at Palmer's in Minneapolis! One review of Palmer's claimed "Dirty P's is a very fitting nickname for this bar (as I have heard it called). Somehow, it feels cozy yet kind of gross....sort of like a relatives house that very faintly smells of cat urine". This is obviously our type of place. We're opening for Cadillac Kolstad and Cornbread Harris. This show is going to be so awesome.

In conclusion, our spirits are soaring and so far we have had nothing but good experiences. Rocinante seems in good health and we are honing our skills in the fine art of backing up with a trailer. Our only complaint is that our free time while on the road is fairly limited and we have to apologize in advance if we haven't kept in touch as much as we'd like to. Thanks for reading, we'll see you soon when the lights go down in the city.

Cheers,
TR

The Shrine for a New Religion..

2009-09-03T08:29:00.005-06:00

Recently the Tumbledown House crew set off to historic Virginia City, Montana to play at the Bale of Hay Saloon. For those of you unfamiliar with Virginia City, it's like Tombstone without the gift shops or Deadwood without video poker. Virginia City (and neighboring Nevada City) have done such incredible jobs preserving the original look and feel of the late 1800's that they both stand today as shining examples for every other boom-town-turned-tourist-attraction.

They have not only done an impeccable job of maintaining the exteriors of the buildings, but many of the structures contain the actual relics from the original time period, allowing you to peer inside to check out its 19th century goodness. Here, for example, is one of many storefront windows complete with shoes, gloves, and other weird shit.

Other stores contain original canned goods that were for sale. Some of them are augmented with mannequins that are intended to enhance the overall effect and make the history seem more "alive", although in my opinion they just look contrived and downright creepy.

On the particular night that we were to perform at the Bale of Hay, Virginia City was hosting its annual parade and ball, where hundreds of period nuts bring out their corsets, parasols, and cummerbunds and parade up and down main street. While I unfortunately was unable to get a photo of them in en masse, I was able to snap this shot of a few musicians in the main room of the Bale of Hay. One of these psychos is actually a former teacher of Gillian's, which explains a lot.

If you've enjoyed the blog thus far, you'll be delighted to know that I have yet to reach the best part. After our show in Virginia City, the next morning we headed to neighboring Nevada City, which is maybe even a little less touristy. Lo and behold, dear reader, there we found the most incredible thing. Some may call it the source. Others may refer to it as the Largest Collection of Automated Music Machines in the world. Oh my fucking god. Behold:

Unfortunately, neither the pictures nor my limited vocabulary can do this mecca justice. They have player pianos whose pitch wavers as their mechanical insides grind together to churn out ghostly melodies. Automated organs billow out clouds of noise that can be heard across town. Mallets, xylophones, and beaters beat out rhythms along with the throng. So, what does the municipal township of Nevada City charge for entrance to their fair music hall? $20? $10? $5? No, you guessed it.. It's free. And the machines cost a nickel to operate. Jesus. I would have given a kidney to witness this splendor.

So in conclusion, you need to get your ass down to Virginia and Nevada cities and check this shit out. It's just amazing. Here's another pic from Nevada City. These people are just walking around in their bonnets. They don't care about anything. And if you do go, please behave yourself and watch your children. We saw one ungrateful little bastard complain that the music hall was "boring" and was tugging on one of the machine's fragile wooden parts. Don't be that guy. Don't let your kid be that guy either. If you think that in a hundred and fifty years there will be a museum with 'Golden Tee' and 'Dance Dance Revolution' you are sorely mistaken.

As an added bonus, as you are exiting Nevada City, there stands a house that can only be described as Tim Burton's wet dream. I hope that it is condemned, because if anyone lived here the envy would just be too much for me to bear.

Thanks for reading. We leave for our massive tour in two weeks. Currently our van is in the shop with possible engine issues, we're having trouble with some of our gear, and I may be getting sick. Somehow, I'm confident that it will all come together.

Cheers,
TR

A sign of the times..

2009-08-21T11:14:00.002-06:00

Hey folks,

Great things are going down at Tumbledown Headquarters.. Firstly, we moved our base of operations to the Ross Peak Ranch, where a young Gillian Howe blossomed into the fiery vixen that we all see before us today. We will be staying at the Howe residence until we pack up and leave for our tour in September, helping out on the ranch, drinking gin and tonics on the porch, and cursing at broken farm equipment.

With the help of Ink Outside the Box, we've just finished our new sign! That's right folks, we now have a massive wooden edifice to place before us to represent our broken-down and dysfunctional glory! Staying true to Tumbledown nature, the sign is heavy, difficult to manage, and will probably rip even the most sturdy nail out of the wall from which it is hung. Thanks to all who helped with creative input. Here's a pic:

In preparation for our upcoming tour, we just purchased a van which will hopefully prove itself to be comfy, reliable, and roadworthy. I'll be flying out to Detroit to pick it up on Wednesday, and will most likely make poor and unsafe decisions about how quickly I can make it back to Bozeman. It is likely that our gig at the Baxter wine bar on Friday, August 28th, will have to be rescheduled for Saturday, August 29th.

Finally, Tumbledown House was just featured in this weeks entertainment section of The Bozeman Chronicle, you can read the article (without all of the awesome pictures) here. Thanks to Rachel Hergett for finding us newsworthy and Bayard for his photo work.

Thanks for reading!

Cheers,
TR

This weeks Baxter show rescheduled for Sat..

2009-08-11T09:53:00.002-06:00

That's right folks.. This week, due to some unforeseen (or possibly foreseen and forgotten) events, this Friday's regularly scheduled gig at the Baxter Wine Bar will be rescheduled to Saturday night. The time slot remains the same, 8:30 to 11.

After this week, we will be back to our normal night, and will continue playing every Friday until we embark on our tour in mid September.

The gig has been awesome. Last week there were some drunk retirees attempting to ballroom dance. The Bacchus is now serving food and we've finally finished the race track song so come on out and boogie with us.

Cheers,
Tyler

Tumbledown House Releases Debut CD!

2009-07-28T15:27:00.003-06:00

Dear Tumbledown Enthusiasts,

We are extremely pleased to announce that after many hours of caffeine abuse, profanity, and hair-pulling, our self-titled debut album is now available online for your enjoyment. Please visit our music page for links to purchase it.

Our CD Release party on Saturday night was a smashing success. We would like to thank our guest musicians, Wild Joe's, and all who attended and contributed to the festivities. It was a night that we won't ever forget. Here are a few photos from the evening:

Here's Mr. Clay Scott demonstrating his armpit violin technique:

Mr. John 'feelin it' Dendy:

Your illustrious host and hostess:

Again, thanks to all who contributed to the release of the CD, especially Sally and Chum, Dustin Tucker (whatthetuck.com), Rhea and Robert Hawkins (BeADeer.com), the Springhill Babyboomer Posse (still keepin' it real), Cam and Jess at Habbilis Records, Grant at Compound Productions, and everyone else who has encouraged us with positive feedback.

In the spirit of celebration, here's a video of me opening a bottle of Champagne with a machete.

Cheers,
Tyler

Announcing the first leg of our fall tour..

2009-07-21T15:42:00.000-06:00

Hello folks,

Tumbledown House is extremely pleased to announce the first leg of our fall tour. We'll be adding more dates as they are confirmed.

9/16/09
The Filling Station
Bozeman, MT - 9PM
Tour Kick Off!

9/19/09
McNally's Irish Pub
Sioux Falls, SD
8PM

9/22/09
The Frequency
Madison, WI
Time and other acts TBD

9/25/09
The Art Bar
Milwaukee, WI
9PM

9/26/09
Mr. Pitiful's
Cincinatti, OH
Time TBD
Part of the Midpoint Music Festival

9/27/09
Venue TBD
Ann Arbor, MI

10/1/09
La Casbah
Potsdam, NY
Time TBD

10/10/09
The Living Room
New York, NY
7PM - sharp

We're still working diligently on booking more shows. For more info, please email info@tumbledownhouse.com

Thanks for checking us out.. We hope to see you this fall.

Cheers,
Tyler

New weekly gig!

2009-06-16T16:01:00.002-06:00

If you are anything like us, you may have asked yourself when someone was going to open up a joint in Bozeman that is comfortable, classy without being pretentious, and not overrun with douchebags. Well my dear friends, that day has finally arrived.

The owner of the Bacchus pub has managed to procure a gorgeous old wooden bar from the Yellowstone Club, and it sits complacently in the corner of the lobby in the old Baxter Hotel. Yes, nestled between Ted Turner's corporate travesty and Bozeman's tribute to the god of intoxication lies a testament to decency known as The Baxter Wine Bar.

It is our pleasure to announce that Tumbledown House has been asked to perform in the aforementioned wine bar on a weekly basis. We'll be there this Saturday from 8:30 to 11, and will perform every Friday night starting June 26th. We have a lot of new material and invite you to come down, have a lovely glass of vino, meet some new folks and welcome us at our first weekly gig.

Cheers,
TR

Currently listening to..

2009-05-27T12:41:00.003-06:00

I thought I might try to sporadically post what is currently being heard at Tumbledown Estates. If my list looks a little like Pitchfork's best new music selection, or the 'Insert blogger's name here' best of 2008 list, I must apologize and admit that, living in rural Montana, it is pretty much a given that we find a lot of music online..

1. Grizzly Bear - Veckatimest
2. St. Vincent - Actor
3. Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion
4. McCoy Tyner Big Band - Uptown/Downtown (Live at the Blue Note)
5. Secret Chiefs 3 - Masada Book 2 - The Book of Angels, Vol 9: Xaphan
6. Neko Case - Middle Cyclone
7. TV on the Radio - Dear Science
8. Melody Gardot - My One and Only Thrill
9. Morphine - Cure for Pain
10. Sondre Lerche - Faces Down

There you have it.

P.S. - We have ants in our garden. They must die!

Cheers,
TR

BAD BOYZ BRAWL IX

2009-05-17T21:45:00.004-06:00

I don't even know how to divulge the events of Friday night without doing so in checklist form. However, I will preface it with this: had I known they would do the dreaded "z" insertion in the title, I would have just stayed home. As it was, we enthusiastically accepted an invitation to join friends at a ringside table for Bad Boyz Brawl IX, here in the middle of Montana.

Let me explain: ever since I saw an HBO back story on Oscar De La Hoya vs. Manny Pacquiao, I have been convinced that boxing is the spectator sport for me. My revelation? Boxing is the only sporting event that's truly fair. Sure there are politics and scams, but if it's clean, it's just man against man, and it's fascinating to watch fighters who knew they were here to fight.

I get no joy from watching someone get their ass kicked in a parking lot or a school hallway, but if two men have trained and weighed in for this (and they have their little helmets on), then let the games begin. No teams, minimal equipment (just shorts, big mittens, and some skinny shoes), no dependency on animals (as opposed to horse races, rodeos, polo, etc.)...I guess you just find the best coach you can, but any real advantages have to come from within. Let the best man win.

But, um, I had no idea what we were in for...

1. Was the match held in a low ceiling conference room at the local Holiday Inn? yes

2. Did the blue-jeans-and-tank-top-wearing-National-Anthem-singin' blonde have to look down at the words? Twice? yep

3. Was one of the "ring girls" named (J)illian, and did she opt for white flip-flops instead of heels? And did she have a tag sticking out of her dress at the armpit? yep (This picture is not of Jillian. It is of Laurie)

4. Did one of the coaches have a nasty black eye? And is this considered a pretty good quality in a trainer? yeah, that makes sense

5. Did we sit next to a table of VERY pregnant women, one of whom was the wife of "Daniel Rides-At-The-Door" who fought his very first fight that night? yep, and he made momma proud

6. When asked how he got started in boxing, did Daniel's wife basically answer, "Well, he fought enough for free that he decided to go into it professionally." uh-huh

7. Was Kentucky Fried Chicken passed around during the second intermission and considered, by our host, to be the highlight of the evening? yep

8. Was Shorty "Hammer Hands" Miller sponsored by God and 3 local taxidermists? yep (our unlikely champion, Shorty, is pictured here in blue)

9. Was all of this enough to write a song? somehow, not quite

10. Anybody know when there's another match?

An Organic Experiment..

2009-05-03T08:38:00.003-06:00

I find it really interesting that in this modern age, humans such as myself can code a web page, digitally edit audio, or remove an object from a photograph, but are completely stupefied when it comes to growing their own food. Over time and the growth of technology and economics, we have somehow managed to alienate ourselves completely from the roots of our subsistence.

It is in this spirit that we're delving into the hopefully rewarding hobby of gardening. This year, through water, sunshine, hard work, prayer, rain-dance, and blind luck, we will attempt to transform this:

Into this:

We will be growing (or killing) tomatoes, several types of bell pepper, peas, beans, cucumbers, carrots, lettuces, a few types of squash, cauliflower, and a wide variety of herbs. We have all the necessary tools at our disposal, so god-willing, we should come out triumphant.

In case there are critics out there who think that gardening isn't very Tumbledown House, I would like to mention that apocalypse is... so is eating and surviving.

Hope everyone is doing well and washing their hands, coughing into their elbows, wearing their surgical masks, etc. We're currently booking our national tour, which is a major undertaking. Haven't found the right R.V. as of yet.. Unfortunately, Mobi just wasn't the R.V. that we thought she was.

Cheers,
TR

Website, CD Release, and a Questionably Reliable Vehicle

2009-04-25T21:17:00.009-06:00

Hey folks,

We are extremely excited to launch the new and improved tumbledownhouse.com. We'll be blogging frequently on this website, cataloging our misadventures as we release our debut CD and embark on our nationwide tour. We hope that you enjoy the new site and come back often to see what kind of trouble we might have gotten ourselves into.

In other news, we just booked our CD release party, which will be held at Wild Joe's on Main Street in Bozeman. The show will be on Saturday, July 25th. The exact line up has yet to be determined. We're really excited about it.. It's a great room, they are now serving a fine selection of wine and beer, and the pizza is absolutely fucking magnificent. Seriously. I can't overemphasize how good the pizza is.

We're still looking for an RV.. The search has been arduous and unrewarding. We need something small, cheap, and dependable. Something to share our experiences with. Something to complete the Tumbledown Trifecta. Something to point the finger at when shit goes haywire.

Meet Mobi:

Mobi is almost perfect. He's little, somewhat affordable, and has many of the amenities we're looking for.. The only hangup is that Mobi has been around the block a few thousand more times than we would have liked. But, like you might for a new lover with a checkered past, we could be willing to let bygones be bygones. We'll keep you updated.

Cheers,
Tyler