The planet with every band on it
Touring is a child development activity for adults
Made it home at the butt crack of dawn. Took a plane, a train, a bus, and walked through the door to Casey and Basil kisses.
The last night was our favorite out of nine. The Austin humidity and the it-being-Saturday-night brought it out of us. (It definitely brought sweat out of us.) Sometimes Austin actually is the best city for music. Other times it’s a montage of exquisite tacos and drunk Lime scooterers threatening to mow you down.
I loved being on tour with Cut Worms. Because I got to play with Liam again, of course. Because Nick Jost is such an incredible musician and tourmate. And because I got to hear Max Clarke sing every night.
I love Max’s voice. It’s automatically desperate with no big pushing. And he proves there are still great songs to be discovered inside a jangly twelve-string. His records are bona fide originals and also a wormhole to a bygone time where giants who shall remain unnamed walked the earth. It’s funny to say about a guy who doesn’t fit the traditional mold of a rock star, but when I watch Max on stage, I feel like he was born to be there.1
He made his new album, Transmitter, at The Loft with my dad and Tom Schick, by the way.
The entire live band is lovely, too. They shared their gear with us, mercifully and gladly. And they all wear sharp shirts.
Watching a video of my friend’s three-year-old run around a nature center the other day, I realized that touring and travel in general are like child development enrichment activities for adults.
The things that kids get out of parks and museums are some of the same things I get out of touring: sensory stimulation, meet tons of new people, learn about the world, occasionally eat shit.
Like toddlers, we sometimes walk away from “enrichment activities” with nothing but pinecones and pebbles in our pockets. And smiling, dirty faces.
People who play gigs for other people talk about the “rule of three.” Every job should provide at least two points of a triangle: good music, good company, and good pay. (If you hit all three, as I luckily do, you’ve hit a nearly mythical jackpot.) But there are also the external reasons to travel that exist no matter who you’re with. A circle that surrounds the “rule of three” triangle. Or a planet with every band on it. Those are the toddler reasons for travel.
It’s obvious to say “you get something out of leaving the house, whether you’re a kid or an adult.” But I guess the important part is that no one puts you in a stroller and takes you there when you’re grown. You have to find the van, figure out a way to pay for it, and get your ass in it.
Spencer
Next…
Case Oats tour dates in New York, Philly, DC, Toronto, Detroit, Cleveland, Columbus, Northampton, Cambridge, Burlington, and Bloomington are all on sale, and we’re heading out in a few weeks. Getting tickets early helps us a lot. Hope to see you out there.
UK/Spain/Norway afterward!
Hardly any of my musical heroes fit the “traditional mold of a rock star.” Even sex gods turn out to be Tolkien nerds. The traditional mold is a myth.
You travel to make music. I travel to consume it. Music is magic, either way.
I always learn so much from you Spencer so thank you for sharing. AND I love the Cut Worms also! New to me. 💕🙏💕🙏