Haven’t posted in a while but that’s because we’ve been busy finishing up our second EP, which is done! We’ve also been trying to make sure we have no free time throughout September by playing shows out of town practically every weekend. First up was Omaha NE last friday.
Got on the road around 9:30am everyone looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, except Hans, who had stayed up all night trying to fix my internets and failing. He looked like he was in a coma for most of the morning, which is common for Hans, and will repeat itself later. Here’s the best photo I could manage while driving and not killing anyone.

Not pictured Hans half conscious. Check out how close we have to sit next one another. We have so much stuff that Dan’s bass cab has to go in the back seat while he squeezes into the middle. We had a rotation going, of course. I think all of us spent at least four hours between someone else and the big black box. Wasn’t too bad though, Jay and I discovered you could put your feet up on the center console. I also realized, upon first sitting there, that if I didn’t put on the very uncomfortable seatbelt, I would fly right through the windshield in an accident. So I dealt.
Not much to tell about this part of the trip. We did pass Ronald Reagan’s birthplace the first of quite the Republican trifecta, all of which I failed to get pictures of. Other than that Illinois is a flat, flat boring-looking state, and then you get to the Mississippi river. We mostly passed the time by talking about poop.

Iowa was a bit more exciting if only because they have a lot more windmills. Like this picture poorly taken, through the tinted class of our tour bus (my dad’s suburban).

Riding through Iowa and seeing a multitude of these things made wonder what Illinois was waiting for. If anything Illinois is flatter than Iowa so it has less out there to stop the wind. I saw a ton of these in Iowa spinning at a moderate pace, while the one I saw in Illinois was working overtime. When your band has enough electronics to drain a Chevy Volt battery you need to be concerned where the juice is going to come from.
Hans perked up around time for lunch. Just in time to second my suggestion that we stop at Hardee’s for lunch.

Poor Jay, unaware of what he was getting himself into, went along with and was summarily appalled to find this advertised on the front windows.

“Where have you taken me?” was his response I believe. Fortunately there are actually regular burgers there. That is if you can see past the French Dip Burger (that’s roast beef w/aus jus on top of a burger!), and bacon ranch fries (exactly what they sound like). Hans did avoid the temptation to order the latter item, but still managed to get his second serving of bacon for the day (bacon is a main source of nutrition for Hans and I). Being the only one smart enough not to poison himself and pack some granola bars for the road, Dan settled for a drink. Other ridiculous menu items and their unconscienable caloric content can be found here.
We left still conscious and it was Jay’s turn to take over the driving.
And Hans’ turn to have the middle seat.
The drive through the wide state that is Iowa commenced. Along the way we passed the other two famous Republican birthplaces: Herbert Hoover’s and John Wayne’s. Two Presidents, Two Presidents of the Screen and Actors Guild, and one oscar winner clearly riding on a mechanical horse. We also passed the biggest truck stop in the world along the way, of which I also failed to take a picture.
The drive was so grueling Jay actually finished his entire bottle of soda, a first for him.

From there the drive dragged on, until, hours later, we found ourselves approcaching Omaha. Check out the bug massacre on my windshield. Take that PETA.

Here are some other photos of downtown Omaha, minus the dead bugs.


Once we got off the highway we immediately showed that we were not ‘around here’ by driving the wrong way down this street briefly, thankfully we survived.

Once we calmed ourselves down, we started down Cuming Ave. Remember how that’s spelled because it will be important later in our story. A quick pass of Creighton University and we found ourselves in Benson, where the Sydney is located. Apparently it used to be its own community but it, like many other areas in Omaha, was absorbed by the city. I know how much you guys wanted to know about how greater Omaha came to have it’s current shape. Anyways, here’s where we played.

Pretty cool place. They gave us free Pabst all night, which is unheard of in Chicago, one of many reasons I’m determined to make it back here in the near future. What you can’t see in this picture is that a few other cool venues are just down the street from this one. It’s like the sunset strip except instead of finding a bunch hair metal bands inside you’ll find a thriving indie music scene. We got there early, which was miraculous considering the drive was eight hours. We were just in time for free food during the bar’s happy hour, which made our day after said eight hour drive. We later met the cook, Ryan, and his buddy, Joe, both of whom proceeded to tell us about their own interesting exploits in music. Many stories were already better than I have but all I’ll retell is that at one point Ryan was in a band whose merchandise consisted of soap and shampoo with their name on it. Fucking GENIUS!
A little bit later we met the guys from Talking Mountain, who after a few brief comments went about setting up stage equipment that would rival Great White’s, without the risk of fire. Here’s what it like when they were done. 
I wasn’t sure what to expect but I was pretty excited. This is what it looked like when they got going.

Yes their lead singer is wearing a mask. The band proceeded to play songs about important things like wanting to die young and the perils of building a snow man who comes to life (he might just want to work out and not play any winter games with you). Their stage banter was also quite hysterical including such gems as, “The guy who wrote this song isn’t in the band anymore, and he doesn’t know we still play it,” and “hey guys, what we do in life echoes in eternity.” Reminded me a bit of Gil Mantera’s Party Dream, less spandex though. Sufficed to say they were awesome.
It was a hard to act to follow, but we played a pretty tight set. The crowd was very gracious. Especially one particularly drunk dude. But they were great to us.

None more so than the drunk guy. Although I’m biased because he said he wanted a private show from me. Too bad he got kicked out before I could oblige.

After that it was on to drunkenness and Fortnight, who had so many members they couldn’t fit on the stage. It made for an exciting show though. Can you tell I had too much to drink by the time they got set up and started playing?


The best part had to be when they covered “Wake Up” by the Arcade Fire. I screamed along at the top of my lungs, probably ruining everyone’s experience but mine. Leave it to those Omaha kids to be too nice to say anything though.
When the show was finally done. Jenn from Fortnight, whose Dad took the picture of us above, was nice enough to let us crash at her house. We went there and hung out for a while before we all went to bad. They probably own the cutest dog ever, which I did not have the presence of mind to photograph. Hans missed it though since he was nice enough to guard our equipment by sleeping in the van, i.e. he was too trashed to make it up the stairs.
The next morning we grabbed some breakfast and got outta town. We had a pretty uneventful ride home, continuing to tell shit stories too graphic to recount here. This is what the ride looked like for the most part.
Thanks for everything Omaha, can’t wait to come back.
-Joe
Coming soon the Milwaukee trip.