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Friday, August 27, 2010


Thursday, August 26, 2010



Day 12 of this tour was one of the best nights on tour of all time for us. The show was in Mannheim, another nondescript town somewhere in the deep German countryside. Except for people who live there, I'm sure it's really special for them. I can't remember anything about the show, other than it was super hot and we played with our new friends Kylesa again. Their driver, Stachel, had become our tight friend because he is a German devil and we were way sketchier than Kylesa, so he was hanging out with us the whole night when we played with them.

sorry, had to take this part out

That was the first amazing thing. After that all happened, the rest of us decided to go swimming, because basically Germany's biggest and coolest outdoor swimming complex was right across the parking lot from the show (the parking lot was full of a German Circus that night). We had spent the afternoon learning a bit about German kids, as we sat sketchily in the stands of the swimming pool pretending not to be pedos. I don't know how it is where ever you live, but in Canada here are the pool rules: No running, one person on the diving board at a time, no jumping close to the walls, and no flips. These kids were basically breaking every single rule flagrantly. What you do is run up the ladder to the first level of the tower board where like 50 kids are already standing on the brink of the board waiting for you (it's a big cement plank like in the Olympics, not a springboard). Once the requisite amount of kids is up there, you all jump off at the same time, doing whatever the most dangerous kind of dive or jump you can think of. PLUS while doing all that, the object is to try and land as closest to the wall of the pool as possible, without straight up just landing on the pavement (IE jumping OUT of the pool entirely). Anyhow no kids landed on the pavement and we were really glad (bummed).

So the moral of the story is that after we were done playing, we all went over to the pool to swim. We had to sneak in because it was like 2am and German rules aren't THAT lax, even though I feel like most of the kids were also smoking while swimming, now that I think about it. We all piled under the door somehow and got in the pitch black pool. I bolted for the 7 metre (that means 3 feet) tower board because I took diving lessons (and figure skating and piano and soccer camp for 1 week) when I was a kid. It was seriously cool, jokes aside, jumping off that high a platform in almost pitch black German darkness. Plus all the girls who came weren't wearing clothes at that point, so that was ok too. One downside was that Sandy had a double ear infection on this tour and couldn't swim, so she laid on the grass listening to her ipod (Radiohead, Kruder Dorfmeister). Even though the pool complex was like several kilometers of pool, grass, table areas and fencing, at some point during our adventure someone noticed that the police were outside the fence trying to kick us out of the pool. We all put our minimal (techno) clothing back on and scattered. Me and Josh and Jonah ran to the back fence with Stachel and Sandy. Sandy I think got more sick once this happened and decided that she could make it over the (8 foot high wrought iron spiked) fence. So those two took off looking for a real exit. The rest of us piled over the fence. Since I was pretending to be a European Idiot on this tour, my night time ensemble was a $4 polo shirt, my shorts and plastic wafer-thin (French) flip flops. I scaled the fence and put my foot right on one of the spikes, which went clean through my flip flop and into the webbing between two of my toes. It hurt like fuck and was an open wound for at least a year (I am not kidding) because I'm the kind of guy that wiggles my toes a lot (if you know what I mean).

Anyhow we all managed to get out. Sandy and Stachel just mosied to the front gate and when the police asked them what they were doing, they said they worked at the circus (Sandy's gypsy passport working like a charm yet again). We slept who knows where and regaled Mark with our tales of adventure over a few pints of banana nectar.


The next day we woke up and drove to Nunschritz, another place so tiny you'd be hard pressed to find it on google maps (also because I spelled it wrong on purpose so you can't investigate the veracity of my claim). The show was really weird. Our "booking agent" who you may remember from the first post, Ralph/Rolf's band was playing ("Monster" or "Munster" or "Hellstrom" or "Stomonster" or something) so that was cool. They had a really weird front man who never wore a shirt and watched movies on his laptop all night in the van before they played instead of hanging out. The show was crazy tiny and for some reason there was this LA punker guy holed up in this little bunker recording punk bands. Long trip home dude. The venue was the size of a hallway.

There's a few other random anecdotes I need to relay about this tour that I'm gonna relay now because I don't remember what specific day(s) they happened on:

1) One day in the van Sandy was in the front seat. Sandy has this insistence that because she "used to play baseball", (when she was 6) she has the lifelong ability to accurately throw used pieces of food out of the moving van windows at all times, regardless of where she's sitting. Obviously this never works and is always hilarious/disgusting. The mother of all incidents however took place somewhere on the highway in Germany. It was probably Karma for boasting, but she leaned OUT the window to spit, and somehow the wind shot the spit back into the van into Martyns EYEBALL while was driving. Try to just imagine the physics of this for a minute: She put her head physically out of the van space in order to get the spit successfully into the air and on it's way to the ground behind us (she used to play baseball after all). Instead of doing that, which I have to say, does make sense now, the spit decided to somehow get caught up in the most random/fortuitous air wave that shot it in a crazy maybe 2 foot half-loop-bend through moving airspace and somehow back into the window all while the van was travelling at like 100kms an hour (meaning that if you drew a diagram of the spit vs the moving van, the parabola of the spit would actually be huge, because it would have to make up for the moving van - point a would be the spit leaving in a perpendicular line, but point b would be it's re-entry into the van, probably at least several feet in space/time because it would have somehow have to have been moving forward at the same velocity as the van, in order to somehow get back into the window of its departure. THEN AS IF THAT WASN'T ALREADY ENOUGH it managed to land in probably the one place in the entire van-space that was most inappropriate, IE the personal eyeball of the one person driving the van. However the most insane thing that took place during this episode was how fast Sandy scampered into the back crawl space of the van (she used to play baseball) to hide when the spit hit Martyn (our driver, not the DJ) and he began to flip the F out.

2) Some other day either in Germany or The Netherlands (but like really, what is the difference) we were driving along listening to one of Jonahs mixtapes that he made special for the tour and there was a huge crash against the windshield. Thinking it was some small Benelux child, we all started panicking, craning out the window to see the carnage on the side of the road. We looked over at Martyn/Martijn who was playing it super cool because I guess he had seen what happened, and just pointed his finger straight up, towards the giant bird carcass that was flying through the air. Big not like we hit an emu or an ostrich, but probably the biggest bird I've seen outside of a zoo. It looked like a muppet, and probably had a hair mustache. We kept driving.

3) At some point we picked up a hitchhiker.


So as if all that stuff wasn't enough, what would happen next solidified everything else that happened that month as the craziest month maybe of my life. After Nunschritz we stopped in Dresden as a last ditch attempt to get rid of all the cash that had been accumulating in every pocket and nook of all our backpacks. We'd made stops every day for the last week trying to figure out how to put it in a bank, or send it as a money order, or something, with no luck. We really wanted to get rid of it all before we left the relative fiduciary safety of Western Europe to the wild outback of the East (not counting Russia, we love you). Dresden was nice, a little bombed out, but I don't remember leaving any money there. So we pressed on towards Prague.

The border was easy, and we ran into our new frenemies Martyrdod from Sweden. They were totally the crustiest band on the planet at the time and had been driving straight from I guess Stockholm or like Crustingping when we ran into them. We waved out the window and made friends because we were both punk bands, but secretly laughed at them as we drove through because they were having trouble at the border (also because their van was almost on fire and they all looked like insane circus performers and there was like 9 people stuffed into a tiny volkswagen van [pronounced "wan"]). Anyhow we got over the border and immediately stopped at the first Czech roadside store we could find to flex our financial muscles all over this poor Eastern European economic shambles. Soon we were eating bags of chips that cost the equivalent of 16 cents and drinking cokes for 20 cents. Martyrdod showed up a few minutes later and did the same, as we discussed the finer points of punk culture together as one big global punk family.

Back in the day (in 2005) the only way from south eastern Germany to Prague was this tiny highway that snaked through this dark forest, and descended down a hill or a mountain for like 30 kms. Since it was a high traffic area, some local business had sprung up along the side of the highway, namely mushroom pickers and little shacks where you could meet a prostitute. We got a good view of all this because we got stuck in a traffic jam on the descent. One thing a 16 year old new driver definitely does not have that much experience with is how much you should rely on the brakes when you are slowly driving down a hill for an hour and a half, and how much you should rely on shifting down gears. After about 45 minutes of boiling the brake fluid on this cursed Czech mountain, we lost our brakes and began to kind of careen forward. Somehow Martign got the van stopped and off to the side of the road, at which point it was smoking out the front, and we were cursing Martyrdod for no reason. Josh and Sandy walked down the rest of the way to the closest town with no cell phone and no idea what to do and I guess made sign language with the local Czech mountain forest people to no avail, and came back with nothing but a few mushrooms and no help. I think we just let the stuff cool and inched down the hill for the rest of the day. Dresden to Prague is like 220kms, which would have taken a little less than 2 hours on a good day of driving. We got there at almost midnight after driving 20 kms an hour for like 10 hours, fearing that if we drove any faster than that we'd all end up flying through the front windshield and sleeping on the highway again (permanently). I can remember pressing my face into my pillow like at least 50% of the drive. Not only that, but we of course didn't have directions to the show. So we get into Prague, somehow bump into Martyrdod for the third time that day, on their way to the show as well, except driving at top speed, so we chance it and push the gas and try to follow them through Prague. The venue is obviously at the top of this giant hill in the center of town (right next to the largest stadium in the world). We get there a few minutes before we're suppose to play, set up even though we are the most stressed out any of us have been in our lives, play the best set of our lives and then sit back to eat vegan stew and relax.

The next morning we stopped at this massive Tesco just outside the city and used our pocket change to buy booze. I think with three dollars I bought 17 bottles of beer, which I then somehow kept intact in my bag for the next 2 weeks. Also don't ask my what happened to the breaks, because I can't remember right now. But somehow we were driving, so lets just leave it at that.


Our Czech adventure continued the next day. We had a show booked in a place probably 99% of the planet has never heard of: UHESKY HRADISTE. Like sometimes when you run into people from high school and they are financial dudes or like lawyers, it's cool to say you are in a band, because you can add that you "just got back from Paris" or "were working in New York for a few weeks" doesn't really work when you say "I spent a few days in UHERSKY HRADISTE", first of all because honestly it sounds made up, but second of all because where even is that and who would go there. WE DID. And it was the best FU show of all time. The directions for this show were "driving to the town, look for the club with the giant birds on top". Somehow we found it because of me and Martiyns front seat navigation alchemy. It was this massive punk fest held in an old theater with two giant birds on top. We get there and a really cute girl is making is the most nuts rider I've ever seen in my life. I'm pretty sure that night I ate jello with corn in it and pizza with pickles on top. It was like when they are making food on a cartoon, but your TV is fucked so the colours get all messed up and normal food ends up looking like crazy LSD spacefood - that's what we ate. Also paprika chips. I guess this mad Josh so giddy (he loves gross food) that he spent the rest of the day touring the city and trying to pick up a girl that he would later realize was 14 years old (and married). It was cute. We spent our day at the library next door checking our email on the first computers ever invented.

By the time we got back to the club the show had started and we learned a few hilarious bits of information, namely that we would be playing with Martyrdod AGAIN, and that like 40 kids were already passed out drunk. Jonah's notes for this show state that the place was "so gross inside. Like a refugee camp. Punks shitting and pissing, sleeping, doing dope, partying. Real wild vibes" which I'm pretty sure is just the transcript of the letter he was writing to his parents at the time that was probably concluded with "send cookies and a change of underwear". Also note the use of the word "vibes". We played a great set and had a blast. Kids that hadn't yet passed out went crazy. Martyrdod played next and were so drunk that they called us out onstage (the bad kind of calling out) for apparently "insisting" that we play before them so that all the kids would leave before they played, even though they had brokered this very arrangement before we both played. Their set was literally the most inept piece of art, public performance or music I have ever witnessed in my life, and I have seen a monkey AND an elephant do paintings. It was like watching a group of cavemen attempt to learn instruments on the spot, underwater. and in slow motion.

That night we stayed at this crazy loner Czech ninjas house. He somehow fixed our van I think with one hand, and also ripped our van door off with the same one hand. He had a pony tail and huge muscles and didn't really say anything, but was strong and kind in the way that like a graceful horse is, and we were afraid of him like you would be a graceful horse. We spent the entire night watching Czech MTV, and after every video they would play 3 minutes of ringtone commercials, and not any other kind of commercial. None of us owned cell phones at this point.


The next day I rode in someone elses car so I could spend the day in a sensible vehicle like a normal person for once. It was the guy who did all our Czech shows. He told me stories about playing grindcore festivals for 5000 people, and a Polish rave that lasted for 15 days until it was broken up by the police and turned into a huge riot. Typical European conversation fare. We played in Brno which is notable for having a B then and R followed by an N in its name for some inexplicable reason. The show was ok and right after we jumped into the van for our long drive to Belgrade.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010


Pre order it HERE. Theres like 1000 copies only I think.

Monday, August 16, 2010


Hey so just in case you are still wondering, the point of these little diaries is to point out that there are bands out there where crazy life-memory type stuff happens every day on tour. It's nice to have money to buy smoothies everyday at M and S or Whole Foods, but it was also really crazy and fun to be the type of band that had no money and no idea what would happen to us every day when we woke up (at 5am). I have a terrible memory, and the fact that 5 years later I can remember all this crazy shit that happened to us on a daily basis to me anyhow, is nuts.

When we last spoke, we were just waking up in Beilefeld, all of us in crisp dry beds, except Josh, who had just wet his. Tonights show was in Hoogeveen (if you need me to tell you what country that's in, you have never been to Europe). It was this weird festival where we played with mostly metalcore (Morser) and hippie hardcore (The Spectacle) bands - we talked about it last week and we are pretty sure that Brian Dingledine was in attendance. We met our new friend Thijs (pronounced "TICE, like "ice" with a T infront of it [like how it's spelt duh]) at this show, who "ran" Burning Sensation Records (as in what happens the morning after you have a curry) and released those two Euro 7"s we did you see on ebay all the time. We got into lots of fights over email with him and were really pissed when the shirts he had made for us ended up costing like $12 euros wholesale, but the 7"s looked amazing.

We played the show and who knows what happened. I think at this point we had bought this giant plastic David statue (Michaelangelo, not Eliade) and had him on our merch table. This is one of the crazy things about going on tour that never makes sense - even if you don't have enough money for a hotel or food or gas (I ended up looking so disheveled after a tour once that I was given change while standing in front of one of those walk-in vending machines they have in "The Netherlands" where you can get hamburgers and Deim bars and shit [the stupidest type of stores in existence] without even soliciting because I looked so gnarly) you're still willing to throw money away at the stupidest shit. We stopped to piss (cost to piss in Germany: 70 euro cents) in some small town in Germany and in front of the store we stopped at was this collection of garden gnomes and other large plastic lawn fixtures. We would have left that store with an 80 euro plastic tiger if it had fit in the van, for absolutely no reason. Instead we settled on the David statue because a) it fit in the van b) it was only like 45 euros and c) we were all so nuts at this point that it totally made sense (to everyone except Sandy, who was kind of pissed).

Anyhow speaking of being poor, that night they made us sleep in the dining room of the venue. Because we were as worn out and tired as French orphans, we wanted to go to sleep before the show was done, which was happening in the next room. It was so loud. Josh, as you all know, is a really heavy sleeper. I have seen that dude fall asleep in all sorts of violently loud and disturbing scenarios. He falls asleep so often in the van that putting a penny in his snoring mouth was a daily tour activity until one time he woke up as I was doing it and punched me straight in the NECK for some reason and ever since I've been a bit scared of him even though he is maybe 5'2 on a good day and I clear 6 feet even when my hair isn't sticking up (also a good day). But the show was so loud and we were so tired that I remember Josh straight up throwing chairs across the room in frustration, like the actual literal definition of frustration, the kind you can only understand after having been on tour through the most decrepit buildings in a dozen European cities, eating tuna paste and frozen buns every morning (a pan-European delicacy), paprika chips all day, and vegan slurry every night, playing 8 hours of cards a day to try and hold on to sanity, and getting maybe 5 hours of sleep a night, woken up every morning by the same crazed chain smoking 16 year old that will drive your ramshackle van with no seatbelts into the ground.

One good thing about touring Europe in the summer now is that we mostly just play festivals. Festivals are great for so many reasons - you get to potential hang out with MIA, Kanye West and all the other famous people who play (you never do. The closest we ever came to hanging out with a legit famous music person at a festival [and not the fake famous dudes Damian always hangs out with like Bob Mould] was the time we ate breakfast with Brandon Flowers, lead singer of The Killers, his baby and his wife at Leeds because Jonah sat there by accident because he has no idea who Brandon Flowers from The Killers is, because he is not in SFT or GHT or any other micro hardcore band that he would immediately be able to recognize the lead singer of and probably get a bit nervous. I on the other hand am so culturally observant/lame that I didn't even have to use google to remember what the guy from The Killer's last name was). Fests are also great because you usually get amazing food, don't have to worry about how many people show up (unless you are Kanye West or some other headliner), there's sometimes couches backstage or chairs and you get paid a shit ton of money usually. Anything Ieper Fest was our first ever European festival and was hilarious. It's a kind of tiny hardcore/metal fest in Ieper/Ypres which is in Belgium and was basically completely destroyed in the war, and then completely rebuilt to look like an ancient Belgian city. I saw more tattoos and Bold shirts at this thing than ever before...people in Europe take hardcore really seriously, and Ieper Fest is basically where all the most serious European hardcore kids go to be the most serious about hardcore. It's basically like the Paris or Milan (or Tokyo or New York) of European Hardcore. Even in 2005 we were not that kind of band so we just took the piss and laughed pretty much the entire day as we sold the most amount of merch we'd ever sold. I was so riled up that I played most of the show from underneath the stage, and made fun of a handicapped kid while playing until I realized he was handicapped and not just some weird looking Dutch person.

Later that night we got paid 350 euro dollars and felt more rich than ever. How rich did we feel? Instead of going to get a hotel in Belgium we drove to Paris to "hang out" because our show was there the next day. With no plan or friends or place to stay or wherewithall to actually pay for a hotel, we parked in the middle of the city at 2am, walked to the Eiffel Tower, and then slept outside again, in downtown Paris, on the lawn infront of some consulate or defense secretaries office or something. I am not kidding. Someone in our party literally shit in the bushes. Jonah slept on a bench but was so scared of getting caught or mugged or something, he just put a french newspaper over his face and pretended to sleep while he secretly kept watch and didn't sleep at all.

Rested from our romantic evening in Paris, we drove to the squat where the show was that night to park the van so we could hang out in Paris. We all split into groups (babies vs cool people) because some people wanted to sleep (babies) and some people wanted to see the city (cool people). Me and Josh had a lovely time watching old men lawn bowl, exploring Les Halles, going to some Metro station that had an indoor swimming pool and generally talking in the cultural zeitgist of France (ie looking at cute French girls and buying chocolate bars and smokes). Beav stays home to do laundry and shrinks my wool sweater by putting it in the drier.

The show was rammed because that band Amanda Woodward was going to play their last set ever. Luckily for us, they decide to play before us. About 150 people clear out of the room before we play, so our show is basically the same as every other night. Except that for the entire set two women are disrobing and making out on a matress beside the stage, so we were all a little pre-occupied (except Sandy).

All I can remember about afterwars are tons of fights and tons of dogs outside. Also at this point Tim Molinari is with us for some reason. The promoter hooked us up with an actual clean amazing female inhabited apartment to sleep in (sans females, who were away) and we all had the best night of sleep ever. Since girls lived there, the showers were full of all kinds of soap and washing products. I took probably the longest shower in my life, and used about 6 different products on my body and hair.

The most unremarkable day of the entire tour. The show was in Giessen Germany, home of "Patrick from Giessen", who once had his house raided (or something) by the German police for ordering a Fucked Up 7" that had a picture of Nazis on it. We played with Kylesa in the middle of some crazy house/squat that looked like the haunted house level of Mario Kart (the new one where it's all green, not the old one that's all black).

Monday, August 09, 2010


Hey you can stream this new song we have SOLOMONS SONG right HERE on the Merge site. It's not really about vampires, but we told everyone that it was. What it's really about is sex, and we copped the lyrics straight from THE BIBLE. You can read them when you buy the record, ok?
The sax on this song was done by AERIN FOGEL who is in that band THE BITTERS.

Saturday, August 07, 2010



So we left off falling asleep on the side of the highway somewhere in Germany. We'd swerved our show in Den Haag that day and decided to just take our time heading south. Today's show was in Mulheim in Germany, which is actually pretty close to Den Haag and would have made a lot of sense if we'd ever gotten to Den Haag.

We got to the town early and chilled out in a city for the first time in forever. We went and got ice cream and sat around in a public square. No doubt looking like homeless people and smelling like a German highway, we somehow picked up a waitress and convinced her to come see our show that night. She wasn't a punk and had no real reason to be remotely interested in us, but she was friendly and decided to come with anyhow.

This is one of the only really great shows I remember from this tour. Every show you play in Germany is in a building that used to be something else. A few years ago we played in the largest building I've ever been inside that wasn't a sports stadium, and it was a munitions factory during the war. The last show of this tour was in an SS barracks (more on that later). Germany is full of these post-war abandoned buildings that are now squats, I guess because of such intense post-war guilt, people were allowed to just claim these buildings for whatever purpose they wanted. Turns out what most Germans want to do with their abandoned buildings is put on punk shows. So this show was at an abandoned horse stables, so was long, thing, smelled like hay and had a nice looking bar in the back. We played with Short Fuse, who were amazing and we all loved them. There was an Observers (a punk band from Portland that we all loved) show across town tonight so we were worried about how many people would come see us, but the show was packed and we had a great time. The Observers even came to watch.

After the show I drank banana juice for the first time (German people love nectar) and the gay bartender tried to pick me up by talking about Feist, the only other Canadian he knew.


We drive right back North, the direction we'd just come from, the play in Hamburg, home of the Beatles. Tonights show was with The Oath, so we were pretty much in mid 00s punk/thrash heaven at this point. The last time I was in Europe I played the biggest squat I'd ever seen in my life. They showed us 3 floors of grand ballrooms, telling us what great bands had played the rooms over the years. Then our show was in a sub-basement hall way with a dirt floor.

Tonight we were playing at Hafenklang, another squat (it used to be a Nazi-run punk venue during the war), a nice place on the water that we've played at 3 or 4 times now. We play first and are pissed because we are super arrogant already and don't like playing with other bands from Canada. The Oath comes on and Sandy has a great time moshing with a full bottle of wine in her hands, wearing her flowing Gypsy Passport (what we called this steam-looking dress she always wore).

After the show we took a visit to the Reeperbahn, which is Hamburg's red light district. Even though we'd already been to Amsterdam a bunch of times at this point, and are mostly all total squares we were all excited to hang out here. We went to some punk bar to hang out with that guy King Khan, and then inexplicably Jonah took our 16 year old driver to a prostitute. I can still remember a drunk Jonah handing him a 50 euro bill and pushing him into a stall. We were unsure if Martin had had sex at this point and were all very curious as to what was going on inside. We didn't get any details really, but Martin was extrememly agitated when he came back outside.

That night I had the worst sleep of my life. It was raining but I'd somehow become so paranoid that I thought the raindrops were cockroaches, and every few minutes I would lunge awake to swipe away a phantom cockroach. At the same time, I was in charge of holding the money pouch that night, which I was literally clutching while I tried in vain to get to sleep. The whole night I just wished I was back sleeping on the side of the highway.


I just recently learned that Bielefeld is "the countryside" in Germany, and is meant to be beautiful. What we did notice about it then, was that it was basically right next to Mulheim, where we'd just been 2 days ago, before we drove to Hamburg and back. Also that Beilefeld is basically in the middle of nowhere, but has a good punk scene because of its huge squat. It's like 7 stories high, which is perfect because after you are done playing your show and drunk, you get to walk up 7 flights of stairs to get to your bunkbed. Josh got so excited that night that he literally wet his bed (I am not kidding - none of us knew that night, but he told us 4 or 5 years later). Mark was feeling particularly adventurous so he bought a tetra pack of like the Armenian national drink or something, which I'm pretty sure was horse milk, and I also think I remember it having hair in it? Anyhow he took one smell/sip and almost died on the street. A bunch of German/Armenian kids formed a circle pointing and laughing at him.

The show was whatever and who cares. Afterwards there was some punk DJ party thing and the most attractive woman that's ever attended a FU show hung out and Beav tried to pick her up. At the end of the night they played "Police" and we all cried, and then walked up 7 flights of stairs to our beds and then all peed in them.

Monday, August 02, 2010


We are playing in the US OF A's very soon even though they don't have football or carbonated milk or celery vodka.

Sun-Sep-05 Monticello, NY All Tomorrow's Parties
Mon-Sep-06 Providence, RI Club Hell with CLOUD NOTHINGS
Tue-Sep-07 New Haven, CT Lilly's Pad with CLOUD NOTHINGS
Wed-Sep-08 Hoboken, NJ Maxwell's with CLOUD NOTHINGS
Thu-Sep-09 Washington, DC Rock and Roll Hotel with CLOUD NOTHINGS
Fri-Sep-10 Raleigh, NC Hopscotch Festival with DOUBLE NEGATIVE,HARVEY MILK
Sat-Sep-11 Atlanta, GA Drunken Unicorn with THEE COATHANGERS
Sun-Sep-12 Charlotte, NC Amos Southend with PUBLIC ENEMY
Mon-Sep-13 Talahassee, FL Club Downunder
Tue-Sep-14 Miami, FL Churchill's


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