mike watt and the black gang "puttin' the opera to bed" tour '98 nels cline - guitar bob lee - drums watt - thud staff, spiel steve reed - soundman, backup singing at the desk steve kaul - the man outside the van performing watt's punk opera "contemplating the engine room" part two wednesday, september 23, 1998 - albuquerque, nm from bob lee: the launchpad club here in abq has become one of my favorite places to play, good sound system, stage is the perfect size, and the folks running it are very nice. so's the audience, I met some very cool folks tonight, and saw my friend tim from pennsylvania, who I haven't seen in ten years. last I saw him, we went to nyc to see pere ubu & john cale, then completely lost touch with him when I moved to l.a. first band tonight was fatso, a local metal band, and though I wasn't expecting much, they rocked my block off. best metal performance I've seen since nebula/ vengeance bros. "they don't like me/ I don't like them/ fat chicks with glasses/ I'll kick their asses!" cream of the jest: actual fat chick with glasses was heard to yell "fuck you!" when they finished that one. jack drag had tech problems but were as impressive as always. a good p. a. really brings out the best in these guys, their material is very finely textured and the textures can be easily lost. our own show tonight was really good, by far the best yet, I am finally finding my stamina to get through these two-hour gigs. laura & gel of the eyeliners, a wonderful power pop band of three young sisters who I've seen and met a few times, came out & gave me a single, awww. . . thanks ladies! I hope they come back to l.a. soon! from steve reed: Launch Pad, albuquerque N. M. - this is one of my favorite venues in the world! I love working here with Rick the house soundman who keeps his system working great. On this show however we had problems with monitor EQ and volume which frustrated MIKE BE ON BELIEF!!!!!!!!!! SO RICK ran away from the gig and left me alone, so I just pushed all the highs and volume to the limit and god willing it seemed to work out. I guess I didn't need him afterall. Show came off well for both BLACK GANG and JACK DRAG. from watt: I wake up and damn, was that a heavy nightmare I just had! I was being fucked w/by some thug types for what seemed like hours and hours or even days! this sometimes happens to me at beginnings of tours. some kind of buried insecurities raising their ugly heads and scaring the shit out of me. the dreams seem so lucid, like it's actually happening and I don't know what to do next. makes me wake up in a fucking shudder. I get out the door and start walking it off. down the tiny old downtown of flagstaff. looks like the babbit family was big here (maybe still is) by the looks of the buidings names and businesses. the air is thin but clean and that feels good to a cat from so cal. our lungs end up feeling like fucking fram auto filters, being there too long. this walk feels good for both my mind and my body. tour is fully on now, that's for sure. after stopping at a music store for bob lee (he spaced too like me and forgot all the extra heads and sticks he had bought for the tour at his pad in granada hills), we take the I-40 which pretty much is the old route 66 to albuquerque. nice drive and the boat (van) is running great - ironed out that heat hell from the first ride. first thing I do when we get into town is hit the store up the street w/the kachinas and get one called "longhorn. " he's bad and I dig him much. I try to get one of these kachina dolls everytime I'm in new mexico. one thing is bugging me - why did they change the license plates on the cars to read _new mexico usa_ instead of just the state's name like every other state in the union? are people that fucking stupid? they had the plates just saying _new mexico_ for years. I wonder what's up w/that? damn. this is third time in one year we're playing the "launch pad," a pad I never played before last november but dig very much - the best pad I've ever done in this town. the folks there are great. they chow us on lasagna and salad. I check e-mail and then go to the van to konk (drove the whole way here) but get woke soon by the opening band, _fatso_ who is wailing through the open alley back door. this band is a band of zip's who works here and they're happening. sort of melvins thing w/some big bloat guitar sound. like vince would say, foom. next is our buds _jack drag_ and they do great. these cats are using samples so it sounds like there's more than just the three of them on stage. very sweet people, no 'tude whatsoever and you know that's the best. they also got their own sound too which is what it's all about. it's great to see (hear) that tradition carried through the years. I don't why cats would want a clone of their own band opening for them. damn. just before we go on, richard fuckin bonney's bro, steve and his cousin tony ulibarri show up and tony gives me some pictures he took of me and spike jonze making the "liberty calls!" video. I really dig tony and as so glad he can see this last run through of the opera. it means a lot to me. we start the piece and it's going good except the monitors are muffed up and then the cat who's running them runs away! damn. steve reed gets it together though and by the end of the piece they're fine. I play my heart out anyway and nels and bob lee are great. we play and play until again the lights come on and we have to stop. that's how much shit we have this time. I wonder if it's gonna be like this all tour. folks are happy though and that's what counts. when eveything's done, we connect w/the cat who traded me for a string bass name jeff. he's got a pad east of b'urque and we head there. what a hell-ride, it must've taken almost an hour! well, it's on the way to austin so no harm, no foul - no blood, no ambulance like chic would say. I'm so beat I konk right there on the deck w/just an indian blanket. fuck it, sueno. thursday, september 24, 1998 - sweetwater, tx from bob lee: we had apalling meals at cline's corners famous truck stop, and a smartassed sandwich artist at subway today. somehow I mentioned that we were a band and he said,"you should play in lubbock, the audience goes wild even if you suck. " yeah pal, we suck, that's why we're on tour and you're making sandwiches. otherwise, not much to report. from steve reed: driving through New Mexico for show in Austin on friday, went to FORT SUMNER and saw Billy the Kids grave. We stayed outside of Abilene, Texas in a Motel-6. from watt: no gig tonight. just drive and drive. laying on jeff's floor was a trip, hearing all them outside sounds. crickets chirping and dogs howling plus all kinds of sounds I'm not used to in pedro. weird sounds. jeff's not got much curtains in his pad yet (sort of like a long thin trailer house merged w/a living room kitchen, this pad is still a work in progress) so when the sun came up, it blasted me in the eye and headed for the van and spent the rest of my konk on the bench w/an indian blanket over my head. something about sunlight - it's hard as hell for me to stay konked when the light is on me. one reason I'm up at the crack. about eleven I roust the cats - everyone scared to use the head that jeff has. looks like a giant garbage disposal/trash compactor when some all along where the rim meets the hatch. no one has the nerve to even open it, even though jeff left detailed directions to get it happening. somethings are just too heavy and we just piss in bottles and the turds are happy to remain w/us until the next gas stop up the road. such is the reality of some situations. big thanks to jeff though. we bail and head east on the I-40. only a little while though cuz there's no direct interstate going from b'urque to austin. instead we head southwest on us-84 which gets us to clovis and then into texas towards lubbock. on the way near fort sumner, we stop at the site of billy the kid's grave and take some pictures. all of us pause and think about richard fuckin bonney. his people are from santa rosa which isn't far from here. funny how the gravestone is shackled to the ground cuz motherfuckers have stolen it twice. damn. from there it's onward to abielene but before we get there we stop about forty miles short in a town called sweetwater and stop at our first (of many) motel-six for the tour. damn, it's the end of september and still hot as hell. I drive the whole way, flannel shorn and the grease caking up on the skin. small hell though cu I really dig hearing nels spiel his history of his personal journey through music and how he got to where he is now - which is rolling w/the hell-ride along w/us! damn, am I a lucky man. I kind of started him off by telling him how joe baiza was tripping that nels would be into our scene cuz when joe baiza first met him, it seemed he hated the whole rock thing then. well, nels wanted to fill us on in on where he'd been from the mid sixties to now. we also listened close and then bob lee and steve reed chime in too w/their tales and I figure what a trip it is that all our lives brought us to this mission to deliver the piece. like an idiot, I forget to wear my baseball hat (a dinsoaur one mascis gave me) and my yellow cop glasses when I go to check in and due to the fact my sister melinda cut my hair kind of short and I ain't shaved since the first opera performance (septemer 5, 1997), I guess I look like a crazed whatever foreign threat and scare the desk lady. last time I do that. have to look safe, like a nut trucker. whatever. after some beam, I konk on the motel-six floor, good and tired. friday, september 25, 1998 - austin, tx from bob lee: played at stubb's bbq, which was a good thing as I was unable to eat the beef bowl I got from magic dragon, chinese fast food in the flying j truck stop- avoid at all costs - and hit town starving. one soundcheck and one giant sandwich later, I walked up and down 6th street. it seems to me that there was even more live music on this strip when I first came here, maybe fifteen blues clubs was too many for a one-mile stretch of road. but there's still plenty of action, I saw a few moments of a play and a couple mediocre blues bands through the front windows of clubs, but was real impressed at a spray can artist who created a psychedelic landscape outside on the street in about 5 minutes. glad to see that emo's is still happening, although it no longer has the monopoly on good rock shows it once did. too bad, cos in those days (around 1992-94) you could see the likes of L7, rev. horton heat, killdozer etc. for free, and the bands got paid their usual fee out of the bar proceeds. from what our friend john lambert told us that was a little too ambitious and the owner couldn't support himself from what was left over. well here's to a great idea! killdozer once said they wouldn't tour again till emo's opened chains across america like k-mart. not to run down stubb's, which was a very hospitable venue with a nice, helpful staff and good chow. local veterans peglegasus opened the show, as impressive as always, fast spidery licks bouncing off weird rhythms, still sunny & melodic enough to be a considerable pop band. great version of the who's "sparks" closed it out. our friend dan, who I last saw in salt lake city, showed up too - I have enough trouble remembering people I meet on tour, but when they show up in different cities I get cognitive dissonance. I enjoyed our show tonight a lot, mike seemed to be highly caffeinated as we played (what seemed to me) a really fast version of the opera and I was later corrected for playing too slow! more likely he drank half the bottle of dave's insanity sauce before hitting the stage and every cell in his body was screaming for vengeance. from steve reed: Stubbs Bar-B-Q. I liked this venue because the help their was very helpfull to both groups. It was a good show - sound system pretty good and Dave the house soundman worked with me the whole night. I like it when the house soundman stick around because they know their system better than me the visitor. from watt: ten in the morning texas time and we're up at going again. looks I'm driving this whole leg too (did yesterday). it's good for my sore ass joints, the ache and hurt much and the vibrations from the steering wheel help big time. another nightmare again last night, one where I've lost my cat and can't find him. the man lost and all I keep seeing is these tabby like cats but they got long bent necks - sort of like that kokopelli cat you see in the indian petroglyphs. he's the hunchback always playing the flute. in the nightmare, his back looks like these cats' necks. then there's this one mountain lion - scared the shit out of me big time. I also lose my wallet and the van in the fucking dream and I'm a wit's end to what to do. thank god I finally rolled into the clothes dryer rack and it fell on me, yanking me into this world where I found these profound problems and worries were only in the dream. two nightmare hell-rides almost back to back. damn. this is the way it is w/me. hopefully the shit got wrangled out of my system, whatever it is but I kind of doubt it. well, onward, forward and w/more vigor as someone once said. this pad is called "stubb's" and it's a new one for me, never played here. they serve ribs upstairs and we play downstairs. our good buds _peglegasus_ are opening up in fron of _jack drag_ so it's a family affair. very cool folks, these peglegs and we're glad and hear all of them: pete, burke, john and new bass man bryan who has a picture of me to sign. damn, it's from a while ago cuz there's no gray in the beard! other pals show up, like paul leary, curt kirkwood, spot and john lambert from dallas who's got a happening beefheart boot (roxy '75) I want taped. I tell him so. spot's been to every opera performance in austin but it's the first time for paul and curt and I'm real glad I get to play it for them. means a lot to me. I eve got curt (and spot's) name in "topsiders. " the piece is really for us cats from that place and those days. it makes it real for me to be doing it for them. I'm a lucky man. it's too sweaty everywhere (this is texas) and where there is a.c., there's a big old mold smell so I just sweat it out in the van which is at this point a shvitz. kind of a reverse boat, more moisture inside than outside. I just keep perfectly still. the que (bar-b-) here is ok but it's no _brohter in law's #2_ (up by the _church of saint john coltrane_ on divisadero in san francisco). fact is, I think it was heavy and made everyone kind of play tire. me and steve reed immediately blow it out but I think nels and bob lee hung on to there and got weighed down by the extra ballast. the set was good but kind of tired (especailly in the encores) until I said "hey, we're playing tired" then things got going for the last tune "we are time. " I did feel real good about doing the roky erickson and daniel johnson song cuz they're from austin and this is their town even if they weren't there to see it. the folks working here were great too and we all laughed and laughed while we were loading out. on long talk w/spot (he's got a house now and is starting a small sound company) and then we're off to the mo-six. I am soaked w/sweat so I strip down and konk on the deck, naked. end of part two