Dear Dreadnought, I hope you have an amazing time on tour!
Team Babe!
Wowzers, what a perfect way to ring in special number 33. Dreadnought kicked off their 10th anniversary tour today at the Hi-Dive and I got the pleasure to be on the other side of the stage tonight. I have one very specific memory snapshot that encapsulates the otherworldly feeling that is being on tour with your most trusted people.
I want to preface this by saying, I remember maybe a handful of specific things that happened this night, I might be missing or transposing details, but I’ll do some metadata phone pics research and recollect as much as I can. It was July 4th in some town in “the South,” during our longest tour to-date before their August 22 tour. We played a backyard pool party on July 4th and mostly it was sick. We got there early and hung around partying in the back yard. I want to say we arrived there either the night before or the morning, because there was an awesome full-floor loft-style level that still had a bathroom and other rooms, etc. We took up a corner of the loft with our mats/sleeping bags and started enjoying the day early. I will post this on facebook and link it here so you can see the video of Kevin at his most Kevin. This video is a classic. But I am bad at Squarespace still and don’t know how to upload videos- sorry.
Anyway, showtime comes around, and it starts dumping buckets. There was a row of threeish outdoor canopies set up big enough for bands to play as well as a full PA setup. Between the band before us and our set (sunset-ish), we had to RUN all of our equipment and the PA inside, across a lawn which thankfully had some tree cover, zig zag to the left, up some stairs, inside through the kitchen, and finally set up at the archway between the dining room and living room. Kicking nothing off of the outside stair ledge and avoiding the sweeties who squished themselves against the walls while we migrated.
I just want to reiterate, this show was sick. This tickled my 1985 Helloween fancy, as people crowded around in these two rooms as close as they could get. I’m used to the crowding at other genres’ shows, punk shows etc. but being a “pretty metal” band with sometimes super quiet parts, girl harmonies, sad piano and floaty flute parts, it’s just cool as fuck to have a bunch of people treating you like nothing they’ve ever seen before and they just crave being close. Really no matter what genre it’s cool, but there are some super NOT heavy parts of our music is my point. I reiterate, the show was sick.
But then the night got a little nuts as people partied and the sun set. I remember something something something some dude touched a girl inappropriately? I remember thinking I was the first one to relay that info to the host (and he was like. Okay. I get it. Taking care of it. Thank you. lol) And again I could be transposing information! It was still dumping buckets so everyone had moved inside and the loft was swarming with people. They were all fine, just hanging out. None of our stuff got messed with. But there were people dangerously close to spilling drinks on our stuff and close to stepping on electronics we’d set up to charge and not checked on for a while. Et cetera. So, we decided to bail. We packed up our stuff and Wheeled some Weights (Ford Theatre Reunion joke, everyone!). Using Kelly’s masterful wedging knowledge, she gave us step-by-step retrieval instructions of what gear needed to go into the van next so we could keep it all out of the rain until it needed to be transferred. It all got done, said thanks to the host, bid farewell to the chaos, and loaded into the van to continue onto our next destination an evening earlier than planned.
For anyone who has read Harry Potter, this next memory is where I would go if I needed to conjure a Patronus. The van is loaded, turned on, probably Krallice or Moonsorrow playing, and we’re taking a quick breather before pulling out of the driveway. Jordan was driving, Kelly was copilot, Kevin was somewhere. Possibly we had Ryan with us. Whatever, the exact passenger placements are hazy. We’re GPSing where to go to get out of the city and find a spot to discuss further action.
The relief that comes over me in this moment is near indescribable. Here we are in our trusty drive box, all of us on the same page that we prefer ease over chaos during a time where we are right on top of each other and have a task we need to perform well each day. We’re safe. It’s raining. But there’s no more anxiety of how we have to handle getting our gear through the rain, and making sleeping in chaos work while waiting for the pool party crowd to die down. These four people that I can have complete trust in to all choose safety, peace, and ease. Maybe I’ll find a better descriptor some day. But back then, that relief and safety was the pinnacle of why everything else that happened in this decade felt so easy. It always came back to all of us choosing ease for each other.
Covid pushed these precious memories so far into the background of my awakeness because for the first time in my life, I was financially stable with a fat savings, had a blast hanging out with myself, got sucked into learning Arabic and other languages and became generally self-reliant. It was the first time in a long time I had built a strong sense of self. I got sucked into that pride and didn’t pause to relive those special memories that we were truly honored to be able to create. Of course now they’re coming back to me to be autopsied and integrated.
Now that I have a stableish home life and am starting to root and sproot, memories like these become references, a set of instructions for self-development and honoring needs. It’s all good, wonderful stuff. That gushy feeling of all of us in the van finished with another day of chaos and keeping each other safe and accounted for. We are in the peak of our physical capabilities, tour-tight in our playing, healthy, flexible, young. I’m so glad we took advantage of all that before our bodies start to really feel the pain of not taking care of it as we all get older.
I crave that feeling again, but in a way that’s compatible with my need to stay close to home and be domestic for a while. And I now have a few years of self-discovery to know what will make my worst habits run the show and what will suck me in and cause me to be my best self effortlessly, and how to occupy my mind in the gray space in between, so as to not disrupt the energy in the clubhouse. Different blog post for some day.
Circling back to today, what a pleasure and a treasure to FIRST be able to just rock the fuck out to music I’m proud that I helped create. And to second, watch friends who are better than me (and who practice more than me) deliver a perfectly-balanced montage of the last decade of our lives. That’s the whole point of the tour, after all. To create a sick life montage of music and friends. And that’s the whole point of four pals writing music together, to be a means for amazing memory-creating. To quote a commissioner that really stuck up for what we do on July 18th, these sorts of memories “are crucial for my fundamental enjoyment of life.”
Enjoying the home base and watching from a distance, I love the five of you so very, very, VERY much!
Go Team Babe!!!!!!
