Generally, the opinions and observations expressed on these pages are those of Dan Sorenson, Mollys bassist and web guy, and therefore most likely do not reflect the positions of other band members. Go figure.
We’re bumping along I-35 outside of Kansas City, MO, heading for Minneapolis. At the moment, it’s a bit hard to remember that we’re better off than we were before. It doesn’t matter what one is traveling in, after 24 hours of straight interstate, “one” is ready to be there. We’ve been driving for 24 and have eight to go.
But we are better off. Far and away. We’re riding in our new van - new to us at least - and it’s a major improvement over The Beast. Kevin’s old van, a 1974 Plymouth Voyager (back when Voyagers were full-sized vans) has 250,000 miles and was running on borrowed time. The band put a lot of miles on it in the last two years. The engine and transmission still operated quite well. Other than that, it was always an adventure. Only a few things were completely broken, but most everything was a bit odd in one way or many. And my van, a 1988 Ford Aerostar, was too small. We had to cut down on the equipment we took and carry our luggage on the roof. It looked like some family vacation gone very, very wrong.
But, thanks to a friend of the band, Roy, we’ve got this spiffy 1979 Ford F250 Supervan conversion van for better than a bargain rate. It’s totally pimped out. If I wasn’t so comfortable, I’d be embarrassed. We got your earth tone shag carpeting. We got your captain’s chairs (two captains on one ship?) We got your curtains on your tinted windows. We got your little map lights all over the damned place. We got your CD player. We got your sunroof. We got your ladder to the roof. We got your fake wood paneling. All we need are some horned animal heads and a couple of neon Hamm’s beer signs wth leaping, angry fish mounted on the wall and we’d have a rolling lodge. (Just thought of something: a keg and tap! Hmmm. We’ll have to work on that.)
There’s a “play pen” - a thickly padded yard of carpet - between the front captain’s chairs and the plush bench seat that sits in front of the cargo compartment bulkhead. The gear is safely stowed back there behind the bulkhead; no more amplifier on the head when the driver hits the brakes fast to avoid some fool pedestrian on a sidewalk.
This thing is huge. Very nautical. It seems like we should have to drop anchor before we take on fuel. I’m trying to teach the rest of the band their port from their starboard. We’ve already got the pirate dialect down. (You know the Pirate’s Alphabet? Ay - Ee - I - Oh - You - and always ARRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!) Anyway, this thing is so big that I can’t see Catherine’s head from the back when she’s driving. It looks like this thing is driving itself down the highway.
Tomorrow night we play a new venue, Kieran’s Pub in Minneapolis. Then it’s back down to familiar territory, The Blue Moon in Kasota, MN (I’ve got relatives in the area). Thursday, we’re off for a return engagement at the Black Shamrock in Milwaukee. Friday night it’s the Old Towne School of Music in Chicago and Saturday it’s the Abbey Pub in Chicago. Sunday night we play CSPS in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. From there, it’s back in the van for home.
Thanks Roy. We feel better now.
P.S. Update on Wednesday, April 9...
We're in Mankato, trying to find out if we can get to Kasota and the Blue Moon. The Minnesota River is flooding and the National Guard and cops of all varities are closing roads and rescuing people along the river. We think we'll be able to get to the Blue Moon tonight. And we hope the fans do, too. As someone pointed out:"Sure, they'll come. It's too wet to plow or plant."
Last night we played to a full house at Kieran's Pub in downtown Minneapolis. A full house on a Tuesday night, the first time we ever played there. Thanks. Several of the people there heard us at the Winnipeg Folk Festival last summer. Some of the others were on the mailing list after hearing us elsewhere in the country. Whatever the reason, a big crowd showed up on a cold night. We appreciate it.
P.P.S. Update from Kasota, Minnesota...
The flooding on the Minnesota River closed all but two small roads into Kasota, but there was a full, and wildly enthusiastic, crowd at the Blue Moon last night (Wednesday) none the less. Had a great time. Thanks to Ron Arsenault and Don & Donna Stark for everything. The Blue Moon is the best kept music bar secret in the U.S. If the Mollys ever have to hide out anywhere...well, forget I said that.
We're sneaking off to the Black Shamrock in Milwaukee in a few minutes, wondering if the bridge over the Mississippi is still open. Just looked out the window and...it's snowing. So far, the Mollys have encountered (caused?) everything except hurricanes (we haven't spent enough time near the coasts, I guess) and frog storms. It's April and it's snowing and flooding. People are going to get wise to our weather patterns and either not hire us or send a news crew along.
Gotta go. There are band members making semi-serious noises about getting the van loaded.
The next day...or so...
Thursday night at the Black Shamrock was not a letdown, even after the wild reception at The Blue Moon. Although this crowd didn't have to fight the flood waters, they were equally appreciative. Tom, the owner, clearly loves music. Instead of counting money, he spent the last set at the mixing console listening to the band.
It's Saturday morning (2 a.m.) and we're winding down. We just finished a second show at the Old Town School of Folk Music in Chicago's Old Town, opening for Natalie McMaster. It was big fun. We got a standing O at the end of both sets, but couldn't do an encore (opening act protocol). OTSFM's an unusual place: sedate, like a little theater with everyone sitting on folding chairs on the slanted floors surrounding the stage. It seats maybe 200 people with not a bad seat in the house. But the crowd is as quiet as the audience when the curtain opens for a play. You could hear a pin drop...until we start banging away. You don't really know how they're taking it until the first song ends, and then, like last time here, it knocks you over. These people go wild. They listen intently and then let you know what they were thinking in no uncertain terms. Thanks Colleen.
Anyway, if you're a folk musician, this is one of those places you check off on the List of Great Venues. The pictures on the wall - of who has played here and who is coming - make you gulp.
Tomorrow night (I mean later on today) it's the Abbey Pub here in Chicago.
Well, the snow resumed, but there was a good turn out at the venerable Abbey Pub in Chicago last night. We had a good time and the crowd seemed to, too.
We just got back to the hotel after playing the CSPS (no translation available for those initials) in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Great place: a 100-year-old building with an art gallery and a vast theater. Great sound and an appreciative audience. CSPS is a not-for-profit organization, I'm told, which operates the building, including a very adventurous concert series. So much for the theory that Cedar Rapids is a sleepy town. A full house with a hot crowd on a cold Sunday night was a great way to end the tour. We head home in the morning.
In two weeks we'll be up in Oregon and Washington with more notes from the road.
"Hat Trick," our new album, was sprung on the world - at least our little corner of it in Tucson - Feb. 1 at a CD release party. The crowd drained several kegs of the bar's finest. The place was so packed that the waitresses couldn't get to the tables, otherwise there would have been even more hollow kegs at the end of the night.
Then we left to take the new album and new set list to the East Coast on a three-week tour. Along the way, armed with a laptop, a set of alligator clips and an eye for vulnerable phone lines, I we sent in some reports from the tour; something I hope to do every tour:
Which brings us to where we are right now, the final installment from this tour. We've turned The Beast onto the Interstate toward Tucson. It's been three weeks since we set out for the East Coast leg of the tour, dodging weather and toll roads. We played The Kirkland Arts Center near Utica, NY; Godfrey Daniel's in Bethlehem, PA; the Buttonwood Tree in Middletown, CT; and Paddy Reilly's in New York City; the Bottom Line in NYC; the North Star in Philadelphia; Pauly's Hotel in Albany; Somerville Theater, Boston; Common Fence Point Community Hall, Portsmouth, Rhode Island; The Waterloo Icehouse in Austin; McGonigel's Mucky Duck in Houston; and the Tipperary Inn in Dallas.
Some time later... So, it's the end of the tour. We're rolling along Interstate 10 in the dark, westbound 200 miles out of El Paso, Gary at the wheel; me riding shotgun with a laptop and a DQ shake; Catherine and Nancy in the second seat working out the harmonies on a new song. It's been three weeks and 7,000 plus miles.
We had a couple of memorable radio performances/station seizures during the tour. In Bethlehem, PA, before we played Godfrey Daniels, we visited with Ira Faro at WDIY-FM. I don't think he knew what he was getting into. At one point Ira asked about the dynamics of having two women in a van with three animals, I mean "guys," for three weeks and several thousand miles. To which Catherine answered, after a perfect pregnant pause, "Ira, when we're in the van, we're all men." That ended that line of questioning. It's hard to make a DJ speechless. Anyway, when Ira asked if we had anything else to say, Catherine asked the listerners if there was anyone who would put us up for the rest of the day. Now, if that wasn't enough to put Ira over the edge, having his wife call up and invite us over should have been. Talk about tolerant. So, after we took over his station, we went over to his house and rested up before the job. John Ailee at KUT-FM in Austin knew what he was getting into. We had been there before. We played a bit and then talked. John can hold his own with any one. So, we had to work extra hard on him. During a period while he was playign a cut from the new album, he asked about the musical influences in "Pride Over Dollars," from "Hat Trick." Good question, as it's kind of a musical whirlwind world tour. I reluctantly told him that, besides the Eastern European sound, it has a decidedly tango aspect. I mentioned having loaned Kevin my Astra Piazolla album and having Kevin come back, without the album, but firing off a bunch of bandoneon parts at the next rehearsal. Piazolla is the master of the bandoneon, which is to accordions what Chrissie Hynde is to the human voice - a very emotional, evocative instrument. It works perfectly as the instrumental voice of the tango. I told him I was a little reluctant to put the tango label on the song, not wanting to offend tango worshippers. He asked why and I explained that I had seen Robert Duvall on a talk show one night and that he, an avid disciple of the tango who goes to Argentina every year to tango, had said it was almost a sacred art there and that Americans had a grave misunderstanding of tango. I was just trying to be respectful. Well, within a few minutes, the cut finished, John came back on the air and launched into a humorous five-minute seminar on tango, quoting from three musical reference books. Not your morning zoo kind of DJ.
I got to use my new acoustic fretless bass. (Well, it's not really mine. It actually belongs to Tucson bassmaster Steve "Man of Few Notes" Grams.) Nancy and Catherine, unplugged, sang a half dozen songs and we gabbed with John about a wide range of subjects (including Piazolla, the meaning of the huge brassiere on the new album cover, '48 Buick bumpers and that official definition of "tango"). It was worth driving 32 hours straight to get there in time for his show.
Kevin had to go back to Tucson to put in some time at his "day gig" (he's the only Molly still holding down a job in the real world) so it was just the four of us. But Gary, who has been dragging a big Hohner piano accordion around with him for the last year practicing behind cheap motels through the U.S. and Canada at all hours of the day and night, strapped himself in for his first public performance on the Stomach Steinway. And a fine job he did. We missed his drumming, but enjoyed his playing. It was then that we shocked John by confessing that we ALL own accordions. "Hello, my name is Dan and I have an accordion." "Hello, I'm Catherine and I have an accordion." It was therapeutic, but seemed to heighten John's concerns about us.
Anyway, we had a good time and a bunch of listeners showed up at Waterloo Ice House that night - probably to see the bunch of maniacs John had in the studio that day.
The day after the Austin gig, we got up early and blazed off toward Bryan, Texas, for a stop at KEOS-FM, and a live performance on a special edition of Judith Gennett's show. This time, Kevin was there and Gary moved back to drumming.
Then it was on to Houston with a stop at KPFT-FM, where Eric Truax, formerly station manager at KEOS, is now program director. Eric apparently remembered us well from the KEOS days and politely asked if there were any objectionable words in the songs we were going to do. When the crucial moment in "La Llorona" came up, Catherine, in a rare moment of restraint, sang that the character's boyfriends' boots were covered with "grit" instead of the usual fragrant coating.
We packed the Mucky Duck in Houston that night. It was Guinness (the official brewer of The Mollys) World Record Night; Kevin led the Duck crowd in a mass toast at 10 p.m., part of the worldwide toast that was to set a Guinness World Record for the world's largest toast. Gary dragged out his accordion, joined Kevin, and we did an impromptu version of "In Heaven There Is No Beer (That's Why We Drink It Here)."
We played to a full house the next night at The Tipperary Inn in Dallas, playing a particularly long (three long sets) and rowdy show.
By the way, if anyone ever writes a book on how to run a music showcase venue, it ought to be Rusty and Theresa Andrews. Great PA, great acoustics, great food, an incredible beer list, and he treats touring musicians the way they'd like to get treated all the time.
We were beside the road for over an hour before a New Mexico Highway Patrolman came by. Hmmm. Suspcious looking old van with a bunch of befuddled looking characters standing around on one of the major dope smuggling routes in the country. To make matters worse, when he asked for the make and model of the van so he could have his dispatcher call a wrecker for us, we said, "Dodge." Oops. Actually, it's a Plymouth, a 1974 Plymouth Voyager. But it looks just like a Dodge and the Plymouths are rare, so, like everybody else, we usually mistakenly call it a Dodge. Well, he had also, standard procedure, called in an NCIC check on the vehicle when he first stopped. That came back while we were standing there. The dispatcher told him it was a Plymouth registered to someone who (Kevin) was not there. He looked, momentarily, a little concerned but fortunately didn't reach for any serious hardware. I guess we looked too confounded to be dangerous. Anyway, he got us a wrecker and a tow into Deming. We twiddled our thumbs for a day while our new best friend, Larry the mechanic, brought The Beast back to life. While he worked, we paced - well, that and ate our own weight in New Mexico red and green chili. There has to be something good about breaking down in Deming.
More than a day behind, the three of us drove straight through to Clinton, NY. On the way, we ran through an ice-snow storm in West Texas (hundreds of cars and trucks running off I-10 between midnight and 4 a.m.). Traffic creeped along at 15 or 25 mph for hours. Then more bad weather: rain in Arkansas and Tennessee and continual snow in Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania and New York. But, we made it to New York with three hours to spare.
Kevin and Catherine flew in and missed the fun. The appreciative crowd at the Kirkland Arts Center brought the three drivers back to life and we had a great show there. We almost forgot about the previous 42 hours.
The next night, at Godfrey Daniels in Bethlehem, PA, was among the best shows we've ever played. Another full house. A great venue. And a very receptive audience. Big, huge thanks to Ira Faro and Catherine Grubbs, as well as the staff, management and fans at Godfrey Daniels. (They could write a book on how to run a music venue.)
We'd never been to Middletown, CT, before, but were impressed with the crowd at the Buttonwood Tree. It's a small, no-frills place, but the management knows how how to put on a show. The crowd would have liked to have danced, but was content with sitting and listening. Dave & Claire Boggs, friends from Tucson now living in Northampton, MA, came down to hear and see us.
We had a great time at Paddy Reilly's, Black 47's home base in Manhattan. There was some sort of mix up and publicity for the job was defeated by a rumor that we had cancelled. Wrong. It was unfortunate, because it's hard enough to draw a crowd in a music center like New York, and we were in the mood to play to a full house. But those who were there were carrying on at a serious pace by the end of the night.
The Bottom Line in Manhattan was kind of intimidating. Just knowing who else has played the place will put a lump in your throat. You stand backstage waiting for the introduction and realize that those pictures all over the place (Springsteen, Lou Reed) were taken - GULP! - here. Yup, The Boss and company all stood in this same dark staircase waiting for the right moment (and, I also thought, probably didn't pass out or vomit when the time came). We did very well. We were actually hot, something that's hard to do when you 're: 1. used to playing two, three or even four full sets rather than 25 minutes 2. standing in the same place where the greats have stood.
The crowd, though mostly there to see the much more traditional De Dannan, was extremely receptive - OK, wildly enthusiastic. We sold a bunch of albums and made some new fans. It was our second gig at the Bottom Line. Allan Pepper, who runs the Bottom Line, seems to pride himself on finding new acts. It's a charming characteristic, especially from our standpoint, as with his club's reputation he could find big name acts who would love to play the legendary club even on off nights.
By the way, if you get a chance to see DeDannan, do. They're all top-notch musicians, but their accordion player and bodhran player would make most pros want to either go home and woodshed for a year, or more likely, burn their instruments.
We did a 30-minute set to open both shows, then turned it over to DeDannan.
The next night, at the North Star Bar in Philadelphia - a showcase club with a fine restaurant - let us stretch out a bit more. We played three sets, doing nearly everything from the new album.
Pauly's Hotel in Albany is a place to go if you're ever in Albany. I don't know where the "hotel" part of the name came from; it's a homey bar. We were certainly right at home anyway. We did more of our rockin' material here than anywhere on the tour. It was a brand new crowd, with the exception of a couple of very determined fans who came over from Clinton to hear us again. It's always hard to describe our music, but audiences - even first time crowds - never seem to have any problem with it. The Albany people "got it" right away. They even got us to drag out a couple of Pogues covers we seldom do anymore toward the end of the night.
We played the Somerville Theater in Somerville, just across some imaginary line from Boston, the next night on a multiple bill. We had a great time with Deb Pasternak, who did a solo set. Sometimes doing one of these multiple act shows is the only way we hear any music other than our own while on the road. Thanks to all the DJs in Boston, and elsewhere, who've been playing our albums. We can always tell when we're getting airplay: the audience recognizes the songs right at the beginning. That happened at Somerville and at Godfrey Daniels in Bethlehem, PA. Made us feel right at home.
The Common Fence Point Community Hall - the name doesn't exactly roll off the tongue - looks like a church bingo hall, but is actually a very good place to hear music. (It's in Portsmouth, RI, not far from Newport.) It's an old hall where they host some amazing shows. They've got a good lively stage and, any touring musicians will understand and appreciate this, they had a great PA system and an even better operator. Doug Brunelle, you are the god of live sound. Most fans probably don't know enough about the technical angle of the sound system to appreciate the details, but the sound system is often the difference between whether or not you get your money's worth at a show. Sometimes when the band just doesn't have it, it's not the band's fault. Sometimes. I'm not making excuses here. A great sound system can make a huge difference. Oddly enough, acoustic or semi-acoustic acts like ours actually are more dependent on technology to get our music across to the audience than all-electric bands. Especially important, although the audience doesn't hear it directly, is the monitor system. If the musicians, especially the singers, can't hear themselves, the audience doesn't get their best performance.
Doug did a great job. We could have recorded our show that night as a live album.
At that point, with just three dates to go on this tour, we were thinking even if we had more, we probably couldn't stand another week in the van. Frankly, it was starting to smell like a garbage truck. One theory has it that Catherine may have misplaced one of her "take out" packages of leftovers. There was something living, or dying, in that truck - other than us. Speaking of that, at about that point we'd decided to hold each other to a pledge of no more Burger King stops. We'd already sworn off McDonald's. There are some things worse than hunger. It always takes a few weeks on the road to get to this point.
Nancy had taken to looking for billboards with pictures of salads on them. (Ever tried to find a real salad within a mile of an Interstate gas station? It's not a pretty picture.)
Even Kevin had made longing comments regarding vegetables (and I don't mean sauerkraut on a brat.)
Frankly, I was taking way too much heat for ocassionally buying those little fifty cent packages of circus peanuts - a kind of orange foamy marshmallow-like candy shaped like a giant peanut. I know they're disgusting, but it must have something to do with my childhood. Personally, I don't think people who smoke cigars, eat polish sausage and Hagen Daz ice cream bars have much room to talk.
We were suffering from Vitamin M (that's Mexican food, to you non-Southwesterners) deficiency, so the first thing we did when we got to Austin was chow down on Mexican food. Had a fine meal. Now it's the full-band diet.
Speaking of the rigors of the road: We finally disproved my theory that it's impossible to find edible food along I-20. On the way home we stopped in Monahans, Texas, a widespot in the road between Odessa and El Paso for gas and indigestion. We finally found a gas station that was open, but, better yet, also found a great Mexican restaurant, Vickie's. We left an autographed picture behind, which I think is now on the way with those of Willie Nelson and a bunch of other touring musicians who had to good fortune to find the place.
OK, now for some words about the new album, "Hat Trick." That's what we were out here doing, after all. We've been working the band's new material into live performances for several months, choosing to have the new songs evolve through road testing before we recorded them. It seems to have worked. The album sounds VERY live, which is what most fans said they wanted.
Recording the album was almost a rest, after a hectic 1996 touring schedule. Summer 1996 was spent entirely on the road, mostly at Canadian festivals.
The highlight of the summer was playing for thousands and thousands of new people. But high on the list was turning around and seeing David Lindley behind us listening and nodding approvingly at the Jasper Heritage Festival, getting to hear a great workshop with Joe Ely, David Lindley, Roseanne Cash, Guy Clark and Tom Russell at Calgary Folk Festival, jamming with Sharon Shannon at Winnipeg Folk Festival, having the incredible Oscar Lopez (amazing improvization on a song he had never heard before) sit in with us at Jasper.
We've done something like 40,000, make that 47,000 after the latest tour, ground miles touring since May, a lot more if you count the air travel. In early fall we finished a swing through Chattanooga, Atlanta (two days to kill in New Orleans), Houston (the delightful Mucky Duck), Austin (everybody in the )and Dallas. And the week after that, before the place was buried in snow, we went to Duluth, MN (Duluth might as well be a deep freeze to us Arizonans, even in October), Kasota, MN (before the Blue Moon I didn't know you could have that much fun in a little Minnesota farm town on a Thursday night), Milwaukee (The Black Shamrock rocks) and Chicago (The Old Town School of Music). The band and the van lived through it.
A week later we were off to drummer Gary Mackender's home town of Lawrence, KN, where we played the Kaw River Brewery. We were competing for audience with Los Lobos, who were playing a block down the street from us. There, apparently, were enough music fans in this jumping little college town (is Bob Dole really from Lawrence?) to go around. We packed the joint, and even snagged some of the Lobos' passing fans after their show let out.
The next night it was a theater concert at State Fair Community College in Sedalia, MO. Great theater, big stage, lots of enthusiastic people.
The Mollys also did a show in Albuquerque, NM, at the South Broadway Cultural Center. Despite one newspaper listing that told readers our appearance was a "play," (?) the crowd seemed to be ready for us and was clapping along with us by the second song. We played two long sets and got a wild encore call at the end, which we were glad to oblige. (By the way, thanks to the promoters, who didn't chase us off the stage when we got carried away and went over our time limit by a considerable amount of time. Time flies when you're ...)
We were home (Tucson) for Thanksgiving and Christmas, playing in-state (Flagstaff, Jerome, Bisbee asnd Tucson) and working on the business end and details of getting the next album out, until early January.
We did a big New Year's Eve party here in Tucson at the Southwest Center for Music. It was a full house and we taped it (3 cameras shooting pro video and 16 tracks of digital ADAT audio), which will probably be released as a live album and a video (party in a box).
Our mid-January artist-in-residency at the South Lake Tahoe schools went well. We played for hundreds of enthusiastic children each day for two weeks and slipped away for weekend gigs in Sonora, CA (the historic Sonora Opera House), Chico, CA (outrageous show at the outrageous Duffy's) and an amazing night at La Peña in Berkeley, CA. We also did a community concert at South Lake Tahoe High School after the residency so the kids could drag their parents out to see what they had been hearing at school. They were dancing in the aisles, something that they couldn't do during school assemblies.
Stay tuned to these pages for news of the forthcoming live album, video and updates to our tour itinerary. There are dozens of dates waiting for the business types to hammer out the details. We could be coming your way. We'll let you know here, as soon as it's official.
"Hat Trick" is available by direct mail through Mollys' Market, or through record stores. (If your local record store doesn't have it, have them contact us or tell them it is distributed in the U.S. by Record Depot and in Canada by Festival. Asking for our recordings in stores and requesting they be played on local radio stations are a huge benefit to us, something that you can do that we can't. And we can't thank those of you who have already done that enough.) Meanwhile, our first album ("Tidings of Comfort & Joy") is now out of print and our second ("This Is My Round") is still in print and available on CD and cassette (Again, check out Mollys' Market)
Check this home page for updates and where we are and what we're doing.