by TL Travis
“Joey,” Stoli said, sidling up beside me, “you’ll be fine. You have a killer voice. Now stop fucking around with your lip rings before you rip them out.”
“How do you always know what I’m thinking?” Sometimes it felt like he was inside my head.
For the first time since I’ve known Stoli, his intent stare filled my stomach with unease. “No one knows you better than me.” His look was almost sad, but quickly changed before he slapped my thigh and turned away to pick up the paper beside him. “Come on, let’s go over the song list.”
Four and a half hours later, we’d found ourselves pulling up outside the first stop on the tour. It looked like a mass exodus was taking place as everyone jumped out of their vehicles all at once. After stretching our tired limbs, we made our way to the front of the line where the buses and bands had started to gather.
They took us inside for a tour of the venue, showing us where to enter and exit from before and after performances. As per the email, we’d be the first act on stage tomorrow at noon, but with many of the bands sleeping in their vehicles we figured it’d be total mayhem in the parking lot tonight. Management must have assumed it would be too as they’d placed a dozen port-a-johns out there for us to use.
The cool part was that they had tables set up for us to sell our CD’s at. Each band would have the table for a half hour to do so which was kind of exciting for us. This was a great way to get our fan base built.
Stoli nudged me. “Hey, if Lucas isn’t going to finish our website let me know. Seems we need to expand our social media presence.”
“Okay, let me text him.” I pulled out my phone and shot him a quick text. “Let’s go help get our stuff unloaded and then find some food.”
An hour later, our measly gear and instruments were unloaded and set up, so we were ready to roll first thing in the morning. We walked across the street to a burger joint and got some grub. While we were inside, the sun had set and as we exited the restaurant we could already hear the other bands getting wound up where we were camped for the night.
Passing back through the crowd, we noticed everyone had coolers out and beers in hand. Several bottles of Jack Daniels and some other shit was being passed around. There were easily fifty people out here and we weren’t sure what to expect as the night wore on. Nearing our van, the guys beside us were barbecuing next to their truck. That thought hadn’t even crossed our minds and I wished it had.
“Dude.” I nudged Stoli, nodding toward their portable unit.
“It’s on the mental shopping list my friend,” he assured me.
As the night wore on, the crowd grew rowdier and the drinking quickly turned to other things as the smell of pot filled the air. Being new to this kind of setup, we decided when we needed bathroom breaks that it would be best to go in pairs. And we were glad we did that with the things we saw. When I opened the door to one of the johns, there was a guy passed out in there with a band strapped around his arm and a needle was still sticking out of it. He groaned, so I knew he wasn’t dead, but it still freaked me the fuck out. I let go of the door and the spring on it was so tight it slammed shut.
“What the hell?” Stoli jumped.
“Um there’s a dude in there with a needle sticking out of his arm.” I felt so naïve, but at the same time I was pretty sure Stoli had never seen that kind of shit before either.
“Oh fuck, well don’t open that one,” he pointed to the one next to it. “Some guy is getting his junk sucked.”
“I’m thinking the bushes are looking like the best option for taking a piss in.” I turned, heading back in the direction our van was.
“Agreed. This is going to be one hell of a tour,” he said as we walked back toward the van and whipped it out in the bushes behind where we’d parked.
“You guys just gonna drop trow right here?” Diamond said as he rounded the corner, scaring the shit out of me.
“Yeah, we don’t recommend going anywhere near the johns,” Stoli informed them both.
“It’s starting to get a little rowdy and it’s gonna be fucked to try and get any sleep tonight,” Mickey added before joining in the watering of the bushes.
“Maybe we better call it a night and shut ourselves inside the van before the cops show up,” Stoli suggested as he began rearranging the back of the van so we could unroll our sleeping bags.
“Good call,” Diamond said as the four of us got to setting up our stuff. But as we’d assumed, it was loud as hell until the cops showed up and shut it down around one a.m. I guess the neighbors had had enough and called them out.
By the time we finally fell asleep, we crashed so hard that we slept through the phone alarms and were awoken by someone from the venue pounding on our van yelling, “Social Sinners, wake the fuck up. Time for your sound check.” Bang, bang, bang.
“Fuck,” Stoli screamed, throwing the van door open. “Sorry man, we’ll be right in.”
We grabbed our shit, shoving down pop tarts chased by bottled water and then used the same water to brush our teeth with before locking up the van and running in through the side entrance we were told to use.
While this venue wasn’t big based upon the concerts we’d attended over the years, it was huge compared to the dives we’d been playing in. We were awestruck, straining our necks to catalog every inch of the place in our memories. Today we would be playing to the largest crowd we had to date, and with the upcoming places on the schedule, it was only increasing with each stop on the tour. My heart was racing, and the gates hadn’t even opened yet.
By the time we made it to the stage, the roadies were already busy putting the final touches on our equipment. Our speakers and amps were shit in comparison to some of the other bands, but it was all we had, and I knew Stoli already had upgrades in mind once we had more money stashed away.
After making some final adjustments to our instruments and hanging up the sheet banners Mickey made, we headed backstage to grab some water. We were too nervous to eat anything else and before we knew it, the stage manager was telling us the gates were open and reminded us where to go to sell our merch when we were done playing.
Stoli wiped his hands on his jeans. “Fuck, are you guys as nervous as I am?” he asked, scanning our faces.
We nodded in unison. Sticking his hand out, we quickly piled ours on top of his. “It’s now or never and can’t think of anyone else I’d rather share this journey with than you three fuckers.” He laughed before we filed in for a group hug.
There was no curtain to be pulled back for a big band reveal, no announcer to say who we were. We were well and truly on our own which as the front man meant I had to address the crowd. Of course, that wouldn’t happen until I’d swallowed down the lump blocking my throat. The four of us walked out on stage, Diamond took his seat behind his drum set, Mickey donned his bass and Stoli nodded to me as he swung his guitar strap over his shoulder. I scanned the crowd, we had about fifty people mindlessly staring at us. As a virtual unknown, they had no idea what to expect so it was up to us to bring it and show them what we had.
I grabbed hold of the microphone stand as though it were my lifeforce, cleared my throat and damn near stuttered, “Hey, hi. Um, we’re Social Sinners from Seattle.” I looked to Stoli for help and found him staring out at the crowd. Turning to Mickey, he shrugged and hit a couple notes on his bass, shaking Stoli from his stupor. Diamond, as usual seemed completely unaffected by, well, everything, which made me smile and I needed that. I turned back to the crowd. “And we are here to rock your fucking world.”
Stoli kicked right in to the first song, and the other guys followed suit. I tapped my toe to the beat before launching into the lyrics. Halfway through the first song, I scanned the crowd, noting it had doubled in size. That alone grounded me, driving me forward to make this the best performance I could. The first song ended to loud claps and whistles. We only had half an hour to dazzle them and draw them in, so the roadies would have time to set up for the next band.
&nbs
p; The end of our performance was met with a cheerful roar and we were all smiles. There was easily five hundred people in the crowd now. Nowhere near the ten thousand that would pack the venue later tonight when the headliners took the stage, but a record breaker for us nonetheless. Four kids from Everett, Washington had just impressed a non-home crowd. No family or friends there to draw them in, just us and our given talents and I have to tell you, that fucking kicked ass.
I grabbed the mic to give the crowd a final shout-out. “Wow, this is great. Thanks for listening to us. Again, we are Social Sinners and we’ll be over there,” I pointed to where the merch tables had been set up, “selling our debut CD. Thanks for checking us out.” When I turned to walk away, I glanced back and saw a huge line forming beside the table with a security guard standing at the front of it. When I turned to tell the guys, I found they were staring at it as well.
“Dude, how many CDs did you burn?” Diamond asked Mickey.
“Two-fifty.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “Ugh, that’s not going to last through Idaho if those two shows are anything like this one.”
“I’ll call Brett when we’re done and see what he can do,” Stoli told him.
We took our seats behind the folding table and security moved to the side to allow the single-file line to move forward. Not being set up for electronic sales meant we had to turn a few people away, but I knew Stoli’s mind was already focused on fixing that. I sat at the end of the table, Stoli beside me, Mickey next and Diamond was the first one they hit as they came through. Shirts, body parts and the cd’s they’d purchased were thrust at us to sign. I know it’s cliché to say, but we couldn’t stop the proud looks on our faces. This was a reality, one we wanted from the onset, but one that until it slapped us in the faces didn’t really sink in as a possibility.
When all was said and done, Mickey took an inventory of the remaining CDs. “Holy shit guys, we sold eighty-six CDs.”
“My hand is cramped from signing so much,” I said, twirling my wrist around to stretch it out.
Diamond held up his arm. “Check it out, look at all the numbers I scored.”
“Sharpie’s a bitch to get off,” Stoli chuckled. Diamond was a total ho. “Let’s head out so I can call Brett about the CDs, it’s too loud to try and talk in here.”
“Great show, guys,” the venue manager said as we passed behind the stage.
“Thanks,” we said before stepping outside into the overcast afternoon.
Stoli was dialing as soon as we surfaced and talked to Brett while we walked toward the van.
“Let’s eat then head back inside. I want to check out the other bands.” My stomach was growling and oddly enough I was craving a bologna sandwich which we had the goods to make in the ice chests. Seemed that everyone woke up while we were on stage and chaos was erupting around us. I caught a glimpse of the foot traffic coming in through the front gates and couldn’t believe the wave of people entering. It was insane and would only get more hectic as the more popular bands played throughout the day.
“Hey,” one of the guys leaning against an older tour bus hollered to us.
We stopped, Stoli included, who hung up to find out with the rest of us what this guy wanted.
“You’re the band that just came off stage, right? What’s your name?”
“Social Sinners,” I helped him out, he looked like he might have an aneurism trying to recall it.
“Yeah, Social Sinners. You’re not too bad. I’m Nate, guitarist with Double Duty. Is this your first time on tour?”
Stoli’s phone rang, he quickly introduced himself to Nate before walking away to take the call. “Yes, we’ve only played local gigs around Seattle and Portland,” I told him.
“Right on, we’re on at the top of the hour. Come check us out. Maybe we’ll grab a beer afterwards.” We finished introductions and told him we’d be in to watch them before he headed toward the band entrance.
“Hey guys,” Stoli said when he caught up to us at the van. I made him a sandwich and handed it over. “Thanks. That was Brett. He booked us a cheap hotel room in Boise. He and your dad, Joey, are burning us a bunch of CDs to overnight tomorrow.”
“My dad?”
“Ha, yes your computer hating father is helping out.”
We had a good laugh over this, there wasn’t a computer in our house which meant he was probably next door at Stoli’s helping. I was blown away by this gesture. We definitely needed to do something nice for our families when we had some extra funds.
After a quick lunch, we wandered back inside to watch the bands from stage side. Getting a feel for how events of this nature operated. It was chaotic for sure, but organized chaos that somehow worked well for the teams involved. This gave us a greater appreciation for those who worked behind the scenes, ensuring we had successful events. Double Duty was gearing up to take the stage, Nate caught us intently watching their pre-concert antics and waved us over.
“Hey guys, meet the rest of Double D.” We chuckled at his bands nickname. “Total pun intended, kinda how we came up with the name. Brent over here is our pretty boy and is always buried face first in a pair.” Everyone laughed. “To his right is our drummer Chase and Tommy there is our lead singer.”
They signaled their hellos as we each introduced ourselves. When Stoli said his name, it was their turn to laugh. “I suppose there’s a story behind that one?” Nate questioned.
“Yeah, and I’m sure it’s exactly what you think it is,” I said, even Stoli snorted in response.
“Which band are you guys?” Tommy asked us.
“Social Sinners. We’re new to the tour so we hit the stage first,” Stoli told him.
“Think you guys will make it through to the end?” Chase snickered.
“Ignore him,” Nate said. “It’s in his nature to be a dick.” That had the rest of their band cracking up, including Chase so he must be comfortable being an ass.
“Yeah, we’ll make it just fine,” Diamond seemed to want to go head to head with their drummer. Automatically, the three of us stood behind him with our arms crossed assuming our brotherly stance. Not that we could do much, but we’d go down standing up for one another – no matter what.
“It’s all good guys,” Nate said, attempting to cut the tension. “Chase is all bark and no bite. Ignore him, we do.”
“I’m just busting your balls, newbies. Relax. Grab a beer with us later,” Chase offered.
We relaxed but I still uncertain about the guy.
“All right guys, time to rock it,” Tommy told his team. “See you guys on the flip side,” he said before hopping up on stage.
“Do you guys still want to watch them or wander around through the crowd?” Stoli asked.
“I’d like to see if they are worth a shit or not,” Diamond piped up, so we stayed. They ended up being damn good. We watched how they handled their signing at the table and what they offered for sale and even grabbed one of their CDs to check out before walking through the crowd to check out the merch tents.
Being virtually unknown had come with its positives, only a couple of people stopped to talk to us which left us to our own vices. I’m sure at some point in our career we’d no longer be able to roam around freely without being flanked by security guards. But that was a bridge we were willing to cross as a rite of passage into the life we’d worked so hard for.
As the capacity of the crowd increased, it became harder and harder to check out the front of the scene action which kept us backstage watching the bands and roadies do their thing. Outside by the trailers, the antics were well underway with groupies draping themselves over willing band members. We spotted a couple cases of Jack Daniels that were open and guys walking around drinking straight from the bottles they had in hand. If tomorrow’s concert wasn’t as close as it was, we’d probably have headed out by now since we were on at noon again tomorrow. But the adrenaline was still pumping through our veins and we needed that to subside before we could even think about tryin
g to relax.
The DD tour bus was parked about halfway down the line. The headliners were parked at the front closest to the band entrance and the exit gate and we were at the end of the pack. As we got closer they whistled and called us over.
“Here,” Nate reached into a cooler they had sitting out, “grab a beer.”
We looked at each other, Diamond reached in first and popped one open. “Thanks,” he said, taking a drink. Not wanting to look like pussies had the rest of us to following suit.
Each respective player paired off and started talking about their equipment and what works best for them. Tommy and I started chatting about voice exercises he used, something I hadn’t even thought about and for obvious reasons needed to.
“Do you smoke?” he asked me.
“Not cigarettes and pot only occasionally,” I replied.
“That’s a good thing, smoke isn’t great for the vocal cords. If you want before we take the stage tomorrow, we could meet up and I’ll show you what my pre-show warm up is?” he offered.
“Yeah, that would be cool. Thanks.” I was excited about this, it seems I needed to do some research and check out different options to keep my voice fresh. Just as we were finishing our beers, Stoli’s phone rang.
“Sorry guys, gotta take this. Thanks for the beer,” he said before walking toward our van to answer his phone. The three of us said our goodbyes and followed behind him. Considering his phone was the one used for all the band shit, we wanted to know what was up.
I grabbed a couple slices of bread and put some mustard on them to munch on while waiting for him to hang up. He hated when I did that, said it was disgustingly ghetto and no sooner had I thought that and looked up to find him giving me a look that clearly told me what he thought. I laughed and took a huge ass bite just to get a rise out of him. “Mmm, so good.” After gloating I turned to grab a water bottle and leave him to his phone call.
When he hung up, he walked up behind me and smacked me in the back of the head. “Ouch, what was that for?”