We’ve played the Troubador a million times. This time, we moved to the El Rey. We were stoked. It’s bigger and nicer and something new. Unfortunately, the staff was weird.
I heard them being rude to people in line outside. I heard them treating Asobi
Seksu (the opening band we are touring with now) with less than acceptable kindness.
The monitor guy messed up at the end of the set, so we couldn’t play one of the
songs we had planned on playing. None of us even met the promoter until the end
of the night. When we complained about the attitude of the staffers,
he went and bitched them all out while we were still there, so we left feeling like everyone
who worked there not only didn’t like us but thinks we’re divas, too. Oh, L.A.!
(With Asobi Seksu and The Botticellis.)
The first time we played the Epicenter, we were opening for Mars
Volta on their first tour with The Anniversary, who broke up years ago. It was
2001. I had an eye infection that night from dropping a booger in my eye in
bed the night before. I haven’t told many people. It’s so embarrassing.
We had been on tour for three months straight without a break. We were pissed
The Anniversary because some lame tour things happened and we felt slighted.
We bonded with Omar and Cedric from Mars Volta. They bonused us money
because they thought the guarantee from The Anniversary was insulting (which
it was). Jason’s kick drum wouldn’t stay put, so he asked if anyone could sit
of it (he was kidding). This man of short stature (I am politically correct
and don’t use the m word) volunteered. So this man of short stature sat in
front of the drum for half the set. It was a sight. He also had a big afro,
as many At the Drive In fans had at that time. He did some freestyle
rapping in the parking lot after the show, too. He ruled.
This time around, we realized how nice everyone in San Diego is. We chatted with
some kids after the show, and they talked about how they think our music is happy
on the surface but dark if you analyze it. I liked them.
The saddest part of the day was taking Magnolia and my mom to the airport. They
are going home for a week. They need a break. So do we, but we have to make our
mortgage money. I went into the airport with them. There were lines everywhere. That feeling of saying goodbye to your
family in an airport has always been hard for me. I walked with them all the
the security gate. Mags kissed me and we said, “I love you,” to each other. Then
I started crying while I hugged my mom and said, “Take care of my baby.” My
mom knows we’re tired. She knows we’ve worked hard. She knows I’d rather be home
with my kid. She has always been happy for us that we’re “following our
dreams,” but as I get older, I realize my dream is just being a good mother,
daughter, friend. Music is the soundtrack, not the goal.
See this post in its original format here.