Here’s another road diary entry from the archives, Trevor’s account of our gig in Moscow, Idaho a few months back…

We’ve been going to Moscow almost since the time the band first started back in the early 90’s. It’s a happening little vortex in the middle of the Palouse just across the Washington border. The university of Idaho is there and Washington State University is only a few miles down the road so there are a lot of coffee shops and interesting stores and restaurants that cater to the student population.

It was the first day of a two-week tour so we maximized our time at home by leaving early the day of.  We left our apartments about six a.m. and arrived in Moscow mid-afternoon so we had a few hours to luxuriate in the splendor that is the Royal Motor Inn. The best thing about the hotel is that it is well situated close to John’s Alley. Beyond that it’s hard to come up with much else to praise. But it is cozy and familiar and we’ve grown to love the chest high shower and the tie-dye sheets.

After relaxing for a while we went out for Italian food and had the biggest bowl of pasta they are legally allowed to serve in the state of Idaho. I could almost hear Atkins rolling over. But the leftovers made for a nice breakfast the next day. Then it was on to the club. A nice crowd had already gathered which is always a good sign. It ended up being the biggest night we’ve ever had there. And we’ve had dozens of awesome shows at that place. All of the usual merriment, zany dancing, spilled beer and lots of people screaming sweating and yelling. And that was just the band! The audience looked like they were having fun too…It’s hard to believe the first incarnation of the band has been going there since 94 I think. It’s been since 1996 for me. My favourite quote of the night, and there were several was from an old friend who in a moment of warmth as we were packing up in the alley said to me that he figured he would have been sick of us years ago. But he still isn’t! A compliment is a compliment even if it’s a backhanded one as far as I’m concerned. Next stop: Sunny California

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Okay, there was one more road diary update after all.  And yes, I’m aware it’s Christmas and I’m posting road diary accounts from last summer.  You never heard of fashionably late?  Here’s Trevor’s account of the last gig from our second longest tour of 2009.”It was a beautiful drive from the Porcupine Mountains into Wisconsin. Oddly enough we passed by two dead porcupines on the side of the road within about fifty miles of each other. Hopefully they died of old age. We stopped shortly after the Wisconsin border for gas and cheese curds. I asked the clerk what the difference was between cheese curds and hunks of cheese and she came up with a really lame, indecisive answer. I think she was probably a Wisconsin wanabee from Pennsylvania or some other place where you won’t find cheese curds at every gas station.  Or no one had ever asked before. They tasted O.K. but not as good as I remember. I guess you can’t go back to Kansas.

But you can go back to Milwaukee and that’s where we ended up around dinnertime. Half the band went to see the box office smash Inglorious Basterds while the other half just chilled out. Tuesday we all took advantage of the day off to sleep in and participate in various activities until it was time to go down to the club.

We played Vnuks three or four years ago so it was nice to walk in the doors and take a trip down memory lane. Sidecar Steph opened up and played a spirited set of 50’s inspired numbers. My favourite was Rock Me Baby All Night Long! They really did a nice job drumming up a crowd via Facebook, Myspace and word of mouth.

The crowd was suitably warmed up so we took over and rocked hard for a couple of hours. We had old friends Heather and Kimberly come up and help Rebecca belt out a number. It felt like the roof was going to come off the place that’s how hard they were rockin’!

It was great to be back in town and catch up with the legendary Danny and his beautiful new wife (Danny once had us over for a fish-fry in Florida) who rolled in from Chicago, and Barry from the Milwaukee Irish Fest, and Kimberly and Heather, and Howard and Marion Cunningham… We tip our hat to the fine city of Milwaukee. The home of P.B.R., Fonzie and a guy named Harley Davidson.

And there it is. Another tour has come to an end. In the Midwest. And we live in Vancouver…2000 miles away…We need to home by this weekend to play The Sunshine Coast Music Festival outside of Vancouver…Gotta fly!”

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The second to last of the August tour recaps.  Trevor covers a lot of ground here, so that’s enough preamble.”We’ve played some places in Indiana before but never the picturesque college town of Bloomington.  The venue tonight was called Max’s place. Pizza place by day, performance space by night. We arrived plenty early so there was ample time to drink coffee, surf the net and check out the downtown core. It sure was muggy and hot though, especially when it was time to suit up in our usual stage gear. A young guy from the town warmed up the crowd with some acoustic tunes. The pizza crowd slowly left and a really nice bunch of listeners and dancers alike showed up for the show. We played two long sets, took some requests including “Mercy” for the booker. Thanks to sound guy/owner Travers for the CD of his band “Zion Crossroads”. He calls it Dreadneck music. It’s a new genre I guess. Anyway, it sounded pretty good in the van.

The next day we put Michigan in the GPS and ended up at the Saugatuck brewery in a town called Douglas. It’s not to far from Kalamazoo if you know where that is. Some talented guys from Michigan, WHO SHOT DON? opened up playing a little blue grassy style music with some good claw hammer playing. Big stage, big sound, small crowd. Everyone was super nice. A friend of ours from Tennessee flew into Chicago and rented a car to come to the show. He happens to be a chiropractor. I happen to currently have a messed up back. Needless to say I think it’s the first time anyone’s had a chiropractic adjustment at the Saugatuck Brewery.

Saturday night was the brew festival in Traverse City, Michigan. And boy did it rain. The crowd didn’t seem to mind. Maybe the waterfall of unlimited microbrew was helping to warm the drenched patrons. We got stuck in the mud driving in and had to be towed out. It got dark, we started playing and the crowd began to swell. Just like my pride did back in 1994 when I watched Rebecca ride a bike for the first time. Set went really well. Everyone played well and the time flew by. We had poor merch guy Colton set up under a tree in the dark in the storm. He actually seemed to like it. Ah….the resiliency and hardiness of youth. Wet rainy pack up back to the trailer to make way for the headliner, Zydeco king Buckwheat Zydeco. Said a quick hi before the show. He smelt good. Makes me want to start wearing cologne.

The main reason we came this far east was to play some music festivals that had expressed interest in booking us over the years and scheduling wise we weren’t able to make it happen until now. Like the Porcupine Music Festival in Michigan’s upper peninsula. What a spectacular drive! It reminded me a lot of Ontario. Again we got there pretty early so we had time to do various things like watch Flight of the Conchords, teach a banjo workshop, climb the ski hill for a view of Lake Superior, and check out the other bands including the wonderful Deke Dickerson. We closed down the festival with a 90-minute set including a couple of encores. Then it was off to a cabin on the shoreline of the aforementioned Lake Superior. I love the ocean but those Great Lakes are pretty great too! There’s a band called the Great Lake Swimmers I don’t mind. Saw them at the Vancouver Folk Festival. When we got to the cabin the neigbour was having a barbecue and invited us over. Almost everyone was asleep by midnight all tucked in and cozy in their little beds like the Brady children circa 1970 before Peter’s voice changed.”

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Played a couple PA shows last month, and they were night and day in scope.  Here’s Trevor with his usual eloquent accounting of the details:”We eventually ended up in Johnstown, Pennsylvania to play the Flood City Music Festival. We’ve been in the general area in the past, and played lots of shows in Pittsburgh but this was our first time to Johnstown. We arrived at the right time and unloaded our stuff then took a shuttle a little way down the road for some catered food. I asked our driver how big his town was and he thought for a long while before responding “I have no idea”.   O.K. then. He was just being honest as it depends if you include the surrounding counties…

Before we knew it was Showtime! We were introduced by a local TV personality sporting a nice white pair of pants and the games had officially begun. Did a nice long set of old and new material and some old- timey standards we’ve been throwing into the set lately, Summertime is the time for sing a longs! We used the house monitors instead of our inn-ears to save a little time and cranked them up good and loud. In conjunction with a huge P.A. system it felt like a rock show. It sure is easy to sing when the speakers are making your voice sound louder than a jet taking off. After the show we hung around the merch booth and sold a bunch of stuff and met a lot of nice people. At least they seemed nice. Truth be told I didn’t actually get to know them that wellJ It would have been nice to stick around and watch Donna the Buffalo perform but we had a bit of a drive to get to the hotel in Pittsburgh.

Speaking of Pittsburgh, we played at a place a on the outskirts of town called Your Inner Vagabond the next night. Sunday nights are often tough to draw a crowd and tonight was not about to prove to be the exception to the rule. The place itself is really cool. It’s a coffee shop in the front and a music venue in the back with a middle eastern meets the Middle Ages theme similar to The Grotto in Knoxville if you’ve ever been there. Or the Afghan Horseman in Vancouver. Or some of the trippy scenes in I Dream of Genie…You get the picture.

The show itself was kind of the opposite of the night before in terms of volume, energy, cheering etc…but it was still fun in somewhat of a subdued way. The people that did show up were very appreciative and supportive and seemed happy to be there. The band seems to be pretty good about trying our best every night whether there are five or five thousand people in the audience. Or fifteen. And sometimes its shows like these where bands meet diehard supporters that will follow you till the day you hang up your hat. And they say you are only as good as your last performance, and as far as we know you only live once so there’s added incentive to sing our little hearts out every night!”

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Here’s Trevor back with more adventures from our September tour, this time in the Ohio/Kentucky region:

Columbus, Ohio/Newport, Kentucky We’ve played near Columbus, Ohio several times but never in Columbus itself. Tonight it would be Byrne’s pub. Something told me it was going to be an Irish pub and by golly I was right! We’ve played hundreds of Irish pubs over the years and by and large they’ve been a good time as a fun crowd generally shows up.  Maybe it’s the Guinness or the Oscar Wilde quotes on the wall, probably both, but sometimes it’s better to play a packed Irish pub then a huge rock and roll club or a theatre when playing a new town where unlike at Cheers, nobody knows your name.

People started filing in as showtime was coming round. It turns out a lot of people had heard of or seen the band before in Montana and nearby Dublin Ohio and various Irish festivals that we’ve played in the Midwest.  It’s a real family affair with several brothers owning the place and proprietor Pat’s son doing a nice job behind the soundboard.  One of the ladies behind the bar had recently traveled to Vancouver and hiked the Grouse Grind after reading about nature’s Stairmaster in the Lonely Planet travel guide. 80% per cent of the band felt her pain as she tearfully recalled burning lungs, stiff legs and a general feeling of hopelessness.

We played two solid sets and called it a day. Afterwards it could have very easily turned into a long night of merriment and socializing but we had one of those after the show drives to do to get to the hotel in Cincinnati.

The next evening we headed ten or fifteen miles down the road and across the river to the Southgate house in Newport, Kentucky. We had a really fun weekend show there a while back, but being a weekday our expectations were realistic.   The venue is a historic mansion from the mid-nineteenth century. According to the plaque on the front lawn the inventor of the Tommy gun was born there in 1860. It’s an amazing building. Tonight we were playing upstairs about a half block and a hundred stairs from where we were able to park the van in the alley. Unfortunately due to a strained back I’ve been hobbling around slower than Tim Conway’s old man character on The Carol Burnett show, and unable to lift anything. The guys have been really helpful packing in an extra armload from the trailer and helping with packing and unpacking my gear. It certainly has made the tour feel a lot longer than three weeks. More like ten years actually. I guess we tend to take our mobility and general good health for granted until something happens to remind us of how fragile we are.1

Laurel opened the show with her husband on banjo. They played some nice tunes and are hoping to play out a little more in the future. We fired it up and seemed to connect with the audience. There was an Ow Sorry t-shirt, camera’s clicking and people singing along so that made these Canadian kids feel good about themselves.

Oh, and on a further positive note. At dinner Tyler bit into a nametag that had been baked into the pizza so they gave it to him for free! And the nametag too! He’s still wearing it. He almost looks like a Charlotte…

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I don’t this is the correct order, chronologically speaking.  Think of this as the more artistic approach, a la Pulp Fiction.  You can let me know if you’re okay with that, but in the meantime, here’s Trevor’s road diary for The Purple Fiddle:

A couple of hours outside of Pittsburgh along a beautifully scenic highway is the small town of Thomas, West Virginia. The Purple Fiddle is in a building from the turn of the century that at one time was the town’s general store. John books all kinds of singer songwriters and bands in from all over the States but he seems to have a particular affinity for Canadian bands.  Thomas is one of those towns where cell phones don’t work but they have a strong wifi signal at the venue so everyone spent a couple of hours emailing and Skyping and Facebooking and catching up with friends and family back home until it was time to play. We ripped through a good long healthy set.  I could hear my guitar and vocal chrystal clearly so that added to my enjoyment immensely. The best approach to mix the Clumsy Lovers is to set all the instruments at roughly the same level and let us iron out the dynamics.  

Sound techs tend to keep the acoustic guitar really low in the overall mix.  An additional problem is that when I do take the occasional solo, it tends to get turned up to a proper volume right about the time the break has already reached it’s stunning and magical conclusion. I did travel with an EQ pedal for a while that I utilized to boost the signal of the guitar at times but that would sometimes have the opposite effect as the sound tech would wonder why he or she could suddenly hear the guitar so clearly, and they would overcompensate by quickly turning it down. Even worse, at the end of my solo I would deactivate the volume boost and because it had already been turned down out front it would be even less audible in the mix! I’m Peter Griffin and that’s what really grinds my gears! The obvious solution is to travel with a sound tech, but as we are trying to operate on a shoestring budget we only occasionally travel with one. And besides, two less asscheeks on the road means fresher air and more room for the rest of us. 

We had some fans drive in from various places, including Baltimore so I was quizzing them on their take as to the accuracy of the HBO series The Wire. They said they had a friend who is a Baltimore police officer so I gave them my email and asked them to pass it on to their friend so we could start a dialogue. Oddly, enough it’s been two weeks and I haven’t heard from her. I guess the city of Baltimore keeps their officers pretty busy, or maybe she’s on vacation or something.  

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Not exactly right next door to each other on the map.  But these were in fact, stops two & three on our recent tour.  Stop one being Olalla (near Seattle) Washington, completing a truly ridiculous trio of opening shows (geographically speaking).  But that’s the way it goes, if you want to get a long ways eastern, in a very short time.  Here’s Trevor’s play-by-play, from a reflective spot a week later:

Driving through rural Indiana after a nice breakfast and a couple of cups of strong coffee with the guys reflecting on the last week or so. Having said that, is it still called breakfast if you order it at 2 p.m? Let’s call breakfast the first meal of the day from now on. Since last we talked, we made it all the way from the Seattle area to over here in Indiana in two weeks or so playing seven or eight shows along the way. We had a few days off in that time but they were full on solid driving days. America is a BIG beautiful country. I can’t imagine how long it would take to traverse on horseback.

The first show along the way was the Back Porch in Spearfish South Dakota. The stage is set up to look kind of like a back porch. Nice promoter and sound tech and friendly staff and an enthusiastic audience. Weekday shows are often tough in almost any town so when the energy is good it’s time to rejoice and be thankful. Before the show most of us went to the fine Italian restaurant known as the Pizza Hut. Three of us were drinking coffee. When it came time for refills, instead of bringing over the pot of coffee for refills, the waiter gathered them up and retreated to a mysterious area out of sight in the back. That always makes me nervous in terms of the potential for the cups to get mixed up so I said to him jokingly before he left, “don’t mix them up. I don’t want any girl germs!”  His response was “I know exactly what you mean!” which I thought was kind of an odd reply. Sure enough when he came back the cup placed in front of me was sickly sweet so I passed it over to Jason. I guess I should have told him I didn’t want any boy germs. Not so bad really considering all the germs we’ve shared for all these years in the Petri dish that is our van. And besides, I’d take his familiar germs on my coffee cup over a perfect strangers any old day! The kid also brought us thin crust pizza instead of deep dish but he was so awkward, enthusiastic and cute we felt compelled to leave him a generous tip.

The next day was a driving day so we spent the night in Lacrosse Wisconsin. I was tempted by the whirlpool on the way to the hotel room but the two burly men sitting waist deep made me think three would definitely be a crowd. We left early the next day and magically ended up in Cleveland around midnight.

The first time we played The Beachland Ballroom was a show we did a long time ago opening up for a cool band out of New York called Donna the Buffalo. The last six or seven times in Cleveland we’ve played the tavern that is attached to the big ballroom. Always the bridesmaid never the bride I guessJ It’s actually the perfect sized room for us. A full smaller room is always easier on the psyche than a not full big room. Lots of old friends showed up too so it was good to catch up with everyone, play our happy music and head off into the night.

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What, an actual road diary entry?  You betcha.  Here’s Trevor’s recap of our trip to the Olalla Bluegrass Festival, which was the first day of our current three-week tour (we’re in Pittsburgh now, but that’s a matter for another road diary, which may or may not appear at a later date).Day one of twenty-one! We’ll be heading to Pennsylvania and back with quite a few shows along the way. The summer’s been fairly busy the way it should be. It’s still hard to believe it’s august already! We haven’t crossed the border for a long time on a Saturday and the line-up was bad. Three hours at the Peace Arch so we drove to a more remote crossing and made it through in an hour or so.  It took a while to get to Olalla, a small town not too far from Tacoma for the Olalla Bluegrass festival! We’ve played there four or five times over the years. It’s an awesome venue situated on a little league baseball diamond. Lots of families and kids and old friends and few road trippers from various states driving in to camp and enjoy the music. We set up and played a spirited one hour set to close the festival. The highlight was encouraging the dozens of rambunctious kids to run the bases of the diamond while we rocked out. Super cute! We stuck around for a little while and signed cd’s then we loaded up for the five hour drive to Spokane! Tylers friend Colton is traveling along with us on this tour working the merchandise table so we now have four men with beards  in the van.  

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Almost caught up on the old road diaries, one more still to come.  Which is good, cause we’re about to leave on a long-ish road trip.  Which means many new adventures, and eventually, new road diaries!  Anyhow.  Here’s Trevor’s account of our Bellingham/Boise weekend a few weeks back: Bellingham’s not too far away, but it sure seems to take forever to get there what with having to pick everybody up, brave the border lineup, organize our merch… Because we are trying to be home more during the week when we can, it generally means a lot more driving on either side of the weekend. Instead of forming a big loop, we do a lot more bee lining back and forth to Vancouver. But we often drive all daylong when we are away for extended periods too so I guess we are kind of used to it. And now that we can Twitter from the road, the days just seem to fly by!

The Wild Buffalo is a great room. Well run, good stage setup and it’s not too big /not too small. We sound checked, grabbed a quick burrito and started the rocking earlier than usual as we normally have an opener, so it took a little while for the energy to build. But it did, and we played and we felt good about things and we made our way over to the hotel to rest for the long drive to Boise in the morning.

We had to leave pretty early, (5) as it was an early sound check so we were only able to sleep for 100 minutes. The Knitting Factory (formerly the Big Easy) is a place we’ve been playing on and off for 5 years or so. It’s a fun place and get’s lots of names in. How often do you get to play the night after Gwar or Lisa Marie Presley? The daughter of that famous singer from Mississippi?  

An old friend and talented singer songwriter Doug Cameron opened up so it was good to see him and so many of the Boise folks that we’ve come to know over the years. It’s another top-notch place to play so it was good to be back. The crowd swelled up enough to make it quite festive. Played a bunch of new songs and experimented with some random ideas so overall it felt like a pretty fresh show. Like we’ve only been around ten years instead of fifteenJ

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Before we catch you on the latest shows, we still have unfinished business from the pre-vacation tour (March/April).  Here’s Trevor’s recount o the final gigs of that tour, in San Antonio and Austin: 

Road diary/texas

It’s great to be back in Texas. We drove in a different way this time via Arkansas and were happy to pass through Hope (the birthplace of Bill Clinton) before fueling up alongside the highway in Texarcana. And speaking of hope, some of us were hoping  that Bill might be outside waving in his front yard but alas, we were denied.

I was expecting the Texas/Arkansas border to be somewhat magical as I had been listening to REM’s “Texarcana” in anticipation the day before:

40, 000 stars in the evening

Look at them fall from the sky

40, 000 reasons for living

40, 000 tears in your eye

Perhaps it’s different at night. It’s hard to see those 40, 000 stars in the daytime.  I guess that only happens at the Junos when they are held out west…

They did have friendly clerks at the post office so we were able to send off some mail order and a couple of Elvis postcards picked up at a gas station in Memphis.

Normally there is a big “Welcome to Texas “ sign when you cross into Texas. (Never  seen one crossing into Iowa. That would be an obvious prank. Maybe I’ll tweet Ashton Kutcher with the suggestion) By the way, I want to be the first to tell you about a new social networking site. Twitter. I think it’s going to be big.J

New state signs are always something to look forward to. Especially when you’ve been driving all day. Mile after mile. State after state…Welcome signs make us feel like we are making progress. Moving forward. Fresh pastures. Greener grass. Turning over a new leaf. Smiling faces to sing to…  Maybe road construction interfered with Rebecca’s #1 hobby of taking pictures of state welcome signs as we weren’t able to spot one. What’s a girl to do? So the next two days we assumed we were in Texas. The Don’t Mess With Texas signs along the highway should have been our first clue but we didn’t know for sure until we drove by the Alamo on our way to Casbeers in San Antonio.

We’ve played Casbeers many times over the years at their old location but we haven’t been to Texas in a while.  In the meantime they’ve set up shop in a new location. And what an awesome location it is!  It’s an old church in an historic neighbourhood not too far from the Alamo. The restaurant is downstairs and is still serving those tasty enchilada’s, with the concert area being upstairs in the church. Very rustic and beautiful. Apparently the stained glass was made in Europe, shipped to Pennsylvania and brought by train to San Antonio in 1912. And here we are looking at it in March of 2009!

Rebecca and Chris hopped on the shuttle to check out the historical majesty that is the Alamo. The rest of us chilled out and chatted with people we hadn’t seen for a while. Elli got up and sang some songs. We did too. Amazing acoustics. It’s always special playing in a church. So many things to reflect upon.  Thinking and wondering about all that’s happened within those walls over the years: Weddings. Funerals. Christmas eve’s. Easter mornings. Communions and baptisms. Drooping eyelids and crying babies. And tonight? Let’s turn it over to our celebrity MC Art Garfunkel:

“San Antonio. You are in for a treat. For one night only. The sweet, sweet tones of the Clumsy Lovers.  But first, a poem I wrote yesterday:

O Kathryn, I kissed you goodbye.

You were wearing a white cotton dress with pale
 pink satin.
You were in the corner of the limousine, thirty
minutes ago.

Outside the car, on the sidewalk, it was 4:40,
Saturday afternoon.
Gorgeous, radiant sunshine fell on daddy and me.

It was the very middle of May.

How you delighted me all day long…You were
like a brook. And like a running mountain
brook you caught and reflected the
dazzling light.

You arrived cautious and curious. You had been
shopping for smells, and you bought a bubble-gum-
smelling eraser, a rootbeer lip gloss brush, a bottle
of cologne.

—Do you play chess? you said in the second minute.

At The Empire State, when we hit the big view at
the top—you took it in your own time. You were
Loch Lomond.

You like: typewriters, jigsaw puzzles, chocolate,
pianos, grape soda, three in a phone booth, Pez,
playgrounds and limousines. And most of all, it
seemed, was playgrounds—the carriage ride we
took to the carousel (where you rode the inside
horse) charmed your daddy and me

but the playground was the cat’s whiskers
to you. I tried to sign your nose…Kathryn,
thank you so much for giving me

Outside, daddy was saying “She’ll never be five
again.”

So my goodbye kiss is to the beautiful wake you
 leave behind your beautiful course Kathryn.

 the tribute of the current to the source 



And now, as promised. The Clumsy Lovers!

Great to see Barb and Steve and all of our sweet San Antonio friends again.

It’s only an hour away so tomorrow we’ll wake up in Austin! Hope we didn’t miss South by Southwest….

Waking up in Austin is always cool. Assuming you have A.C. in the hotel room.  Such an awesome music town by the way.  Half the band got up early and drove downtown to check out the sights. The other half arose a while later and walked alongside the highway near the airport looking for signs of civilization. The hot Texas sun and the nervous pace made for a calorie neutral day and to top it off we weren’t mowed down by speeding traffic on our quest to locate a store to furnish us with money orders to pony express to various people waiting in various locations with their palms up.

We all headed downtown around dinnertime. Unloaded in the back alley and went off looking for parking. (this exciting account can be found on our Twitter page . Search clumsylovers. Our Twitter page is pretty lame so far but it’s not too far behind Larry Kings in terms of content…We’ll post lots of fun and mundane stuff when we are on the road next assuming Twitter is still around in a few weeks. Excuse me for a sec. I’ll be right back. I need to Ask Jeeves directions to Vancouver from Austin Texas)

We eventually found parking but were disappointed to not see Lance Armstrong zipping by on his bike in search of Kate Hudson or the Magnolia Café or maybe an unprecedented 8^th Tour de France victory…Did see a cute girl on a Bianchi though…

Played outside on the balcony tonight. Big beautiful moon. Perfect weather. Excellent people in abundance. Music blaring from everywhere in every direction on the streets surrounding. What more can you ask for to wrap up three weeks on the road?   

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