DENTON
The turnaround is the hardest part of any tour; you get to the point where you’re as far away from home as you’re going to get and have to confront the conflict of missing home and wishing the tour would never end. We pointed the freshly dented Silver Fox toward the east and put the pedal down through West Texas. All hail.
It’s easy to lose oneself in the landscape out here, an expanse of bluffs and vistas stretching without human interruption and limited only by the distant horizon. The waypoint towns are unwelcome except for their necessary purpose. Imagine this land before “civilization,” untamed and enchanting, an environment nearly unfit for settlement and inhospitable to travel through it. This is what we conquered. This is what we needed to shed blood for. This is the spoils of manifest destiny. And we build strip malls.
In between thoughts like this, I almost ran over a dog that darted out onto the highway. Brake pedal to the floor halts our momentum and spares a life. Heart is racing. Hand is shaking. Must keep moving.
Denton is a college town northwest of the Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex. Upon entering the town, we’re astonished by the similarities between it and Bloomington, Indiana. As far as Lone Star indie scenes go, it’s similar to Austin, though without the largess and pretense. The club is not open when we show up. Let’s eat.
We don’t go far and end up at the Abbey Pub, an English/Irish hybrid. Lonn is excited by the prospect of Scotch eggs (hard boiled egg rolled in sausage, breaded and fried), though he’s ultimately confounded by the sweet raspberry sauce drizzled on top. I’m impressed by the fisherman’s stew and cottage pie, though neither really changed my worldview. Probably the most memorable thing about our meal is the Irish drinking song I wrote at the table:
“The Kyle Sowashes are on a tour, traveling across the south/
So cram some meat into a sausage and we’ll put it in our mouth.”
We show up at the bar, grab a few drinks and join the staff in watching the Epic Beard Man videos on the internet. Hailey’s is a BIG place for a town the size of Denton. It’s essentially three rooms: the main bar, the live music room (huge stage), and a lounge-y kind of room with a couple of pool tables and another bar which was not open this night. Hard to believe that a place this big with this much overhead in this town can stay open. Maybe they sell meth in the bathroom.
Speaking of the bathroom, I’ve never seen this before: a toilet stall with a black privacy curtain instead of a door. Of course, there’s no way to latch the curtain closed, and the stall is in the middle of the room and the stall walls are pretty low, to the point where somebody standing to take a piss next to you could probably catch of glimpse of you squatting when he looks down to zip up his fly. Pretty much a necessity-only situation.
Stephen from Zest of Yore tipped us off about the opening band, Old Snack, and they lived up to his hype. Chunky pop songs, tastefully done and played relentlessly with no time to breathe. Really fun band, and nice guys.
Our set was a little disappointing We played just fine, but there wasn’t much of a turnout, and most of the people who were there weren’t really in the mood to see us. We did whip out “The Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton,” though I’d imagine we’re not the first to ever perform that little pop nugget in this town. Our version is considerably different than the Mountain Goats original, though.
Dust Congress closed out the night. That is all.
SETLIST:
Blast From The Past
The College Try
Nothing Interesting
The 8-Track Recorder
Sharpshooter
Can’t Make Up My Mind
My Resume
Impatient Man
The Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton (Mountain Goats cover)
(It’s Not) Easy To Be Hard
I Would Like To Speak To Your Manager
Cutout Bin
