Tour stories: Ted Leo

Let me tell you the story of the tour I just returned from this week.

First, I left exhausted and not in the best state of physical well being.

Second, we had been talking to a company that had offered us free usage of a biodiesel bus for the tour - we've never travelled in a bus, and this seemed like a great way to try it out: environmental cause behind it, and FREE. But five days before we're to leave, they were still waffling about the whole thing, meaning there was a chance we could be left out in the cold with no vehicle in which to commence this 6 week tour, so we had to let that opportunity go. We get this Sprinter rented, but two days before we're to leave, they tell us it's not going to be ready for us to take on the first day, but that they'll have it for us no more than two days into the tour. They offer us a regular 15 passenger van as a replacement, which will not fit all seven people traveling, plus gear, merchandise, and suitcases, but we figure that for two days, we can tough it out. But then, on the second day, we find out that the Sprinter won't be ready for two weeks, so we have to arrange to rent a second vehicle, a mini-van, and have the Sprinter meet us in Phoenix. Fine. We do it and travel in two vehicles.

Third, that same night, in Washington, DC, I abscond to the hotel early, intent on getting a good night's sleep, since I'd been up since 8 am that day to do radio stuff and whatnot, etc. I decide, however, to take a shower before I turn in, only to have the nozzle literally EXPLODE off the wall and shoot across the bathroom, allowing water to shoot out behind it like a fire hose, flooding the entire hotel room (and probably a few below it as well) before they can get someone up there to do something about it. Thankfully, they had another room to move me into, but the early night of sleep went into the carpet with the water.

Fourth, the only Echoplex tape I brought with me (stupid on my part) breaks in Miami, leaving me bereft of an important part of our sound for the next few nights until I can get a replacement, which is really hard to do, especially when driving through the South.

Fifth, 45 miles outside of Phoenix, where we're to meet the new Sprinter van, the rented mini-van gets a flat tire.

Sixth, I leave my ‘stage clothes’ (the set that stays sweaty and that I only put on right before we go onstage, thus allowing me to extend the life of my other clothes when laundry facilities are scarce) in Seattle. They start chasing me around the country, finally catching up in Boston, the second to last night of the trip. I know that this sounds pretty tame so far, BUT...

Seventh, Dave's bass head goes on the fritz, so he has to use one owned by Antonia from Love Of Diagrams, who we were on tour with, for the rest of the trip.

Eighth, the Sprinter gets a flat outside of Lawrence, Kansas.

Ninth, in Minneapolis, my entire rig falls over backwards, smashing my amplifier head, my vintage and valuable Echoplex, and all of the various leads that were plugging it all into each other. When this happens, I think, "You are right now going to be either The Guy to Whom this Happened, or The Guy to Whom This Happened but he Kept on Playing," so I GENTLY put my guitar down and started singing like a singing singer while hoping that someone would set my rig upright and try to get it working again. Someone did. But when I reached for my guitar, I found that in the melee, the head stock had broken off, necessitating a pause while I grabbed for my back-up guitar. We managed to snatch a win from the jaws of defeat that night, but...

Tenth, the next night in Madison, Wisconsin., I was able to make the amp head work by knocking it hard in two specific places, but the pedal that I use to create the sound I get from my SECOND amp, on the other side of the stage started fucking up (I only realized the pedal was the cause later) my entire guitar-effects-amp chain, causing problems through the entire set.

Eleventh, the next night in Iowa City, the amp head that had already fallen over in Minneapolis, fell out of the back of the van, from a height of about 7 feet, sealing its doom. Note: an older guitar of mine, who's head stock had broken in the same way this past March, was shipped to me here in Iowa, so I could have a back-up.

Twelfth, the next day before we left for Chicago, I tried to boost everyone's morale by doing some goofy somersaults in the grass next to the parking lot, not noticing a) the mud puddle I was about to go through until I went through it, or b) the very steep 20 foot hill that dropped off after that mud puddle and ended in another one, until I had gone over the lip and tumbled down. After then punting our drummer Chris' cup of coffee a good 30 feet into the air, less out of frustration than simply because I was losing my mind, I calmly removed my suitcase from the van and changed my clothes in the parking lot. Later, in Chicago, I had to drop more money on new gear than I'd spent in the entire five years previous, as in addition to the above replacements (new amp head, new old Echoplex), TWO MORE PEDALS had just crapped out on me.

Thirteenth, new old Echoplex starts fucking up the next night in Detroit, and my digital delay pedal that I use as a backup for THAT decides it's time to go as well. Also, tonight, our tour manager finds out that his father has been put in intensive care in the hospital with potential kidney failure, and he has to leave the tour to be with his family. This kind of makes all of the gear stuff seem less important. I stumble back into the role of tour manager for the duration of the trip.

Fourteenth, having sucked it up and dealt with the problems through Toronto and Montreal, I find another new old Echoplex for sale on eBay by someone 45 minutes outside of Boston. I arrange to buy it and pick it up at his house after sound check.

Fifteenth, final night of tour, sold out Webster Hall in NYC, another pedal craps out, and during one of the last songs of the night, I break a string and once again GENTLY put my guitar down to complete the song without it. I pick it up when the song has ended, to find... A BROKEN HEAD-STOCK! Way to go out!

So, the total for the last three months:
Broken guitars: 3
Flat tyres: 2
Broken amplifier heads: 2 (one guitar, one bass)
Broken vintage Echoplexes: 2
Broken Echoplex tapes: 1
Broken pedals: 5
1 set of muddy clothes
1 father in the hospital (he's getting better, so I feel OK joking about it now)
And yet, it all seems par for the course. It's not one of our tours if it doesn't at least loosely follow this same narrative…