Under Pressure US Tour - Day 8 - August 1, 2007

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania...

After a good night's sleep we said goodbye to Lika the dog (Andy was already at work), then went out for a pretty tasty vegan breakfast with Greg, one of the guys who set up the show. He told us about the possibility of Mr Roboto Project relocating to another building. I hope the DIY space survives and continues to thrive.

During these relaxed visits we always have the opportunity to pick up on trivial knowledge on the city we're in... Like how there are corner convenience stores in Pittsburgh that, in defiance of licensing standards, have unlicensed bars set up in them. For some reason I found this amusing. I mean, surely it would be worth a few chuckles to walk into a corner convenience in the West End of Winnipeg and see a bunch of cranky old-timers sitting at a small table in the back next to the Doritos display getting shitfaced. It's unfortunate that we didn't have enough time to seek one out.

We didn't pull up to Jan's Room in Allenstown, Pennsylvania until 7:30 PM. Either I was wearing down or it was getting hotter out... and more and more humid by the day. The humidity just kills me. I concluded that we were riding a heatwave. It was sucking the life out of me and I was starting to run a fever. I hoped that I wasn't coming down with a summer cold.

Jan's Room was located in a factory; a room located within a factory. A factory warehouse that contained at least one business, and appeared to have no intentions of suspending operations for the evening. As we loaded in we were instructed not to leave our equipment in front of a door that workers would need access to in their coming and going. The show space was down a hallway... A high-ceilinged room with a concrete floor and concrete walls. There were no windows or vents; just a single door that was kept closed while bands played. It was the perfect size for a show; people wouldn't be too scattered.

The DRY ROT guys were already there and we greeted them. There were a few locals who were slowly arriving and filing in. Then I noticed two "older" guys (being in their 30's and not in their teens or early 20's as was everyone else present) standing in the hallway. One appeared to be holding camera equipment, so I assumed that this was Scott, the photographer who Andy told us would be accompanying him to the show. Andy is half of the operation behind Escape Artist Records, one of the labels we work with. I walked over and made introductions, then shot the shit for awhile, until I decided to check out the tail end of the opening band's set. I think they were called WE HAVE HEAVEN. It wasn't my thing; amateurish Sonic Youth-wannabe instrumental soundscapes.

Second up were MIDDLE AMERICA. I thought they were alright. A little sloppy but pretty fiesty stuff. Their bassist smashed two bass guitarst during their set. I found this comical. Something went wrong with the first bass so he immediately threw it across the room. The band continued tearing through a song as the dude picked up and plugged in a second bass. Then, a song or two later, he got fed up with that instrument and smashed it on the ground, then switched back to the first bass.

Before playing, Adam and Scott took us upstairs into a stairwell and shot some photos for an upcoming magazine feature. I told Adam in an e-mail about Dan's deciding to eat lots of lemons on tour. Sure enough, Adamn brought a huge bag of lemons and they were used to produce sour faces while Scott shot away.

Getting back to the show space... Small rooms; great in forcing people to stand close and have fun rather than maintain a huge bubble of personal space around them. Also great for turning a concrete room into a bonafide sauna during a heatwave. We played hard and the kids in attendance made our exertions worthwhile. Upon our conclusion, I realized that I was dizzy and could hardly breathe. I felt weighed down, my clothes so drenched with sweat that I could have just as easily had been swimming in a pool with my clothes on. I packed up our gear as fast as I could and carted it into the hallway, then retreated to the van.

It was dark out, and the van was half a block down from the venue. It was still hot out but comparatively it was a welcome relief. I looked down the street, the sidewalks, the vacant lot. Suddenly it was really quiet, dark shadows moving around in the distance. I started to shiver, then stripped behind the van and changed into dry clothes. I felt recharged and wondered why I hadn't changed immediately out of wet clothes after performing before. I was still concerned about my health. I felt as if the extreme heat and exertion had me sweat out a cold. That's good if I had the virus beat; could be bad if it came back and I put myself through the same thing every night of the tour. Could break me down.

I quickly made my way back inside and got my camera ready for DRY ROT. They just got better and better live. Drew continued throwing reckless abandon into the performance, grabbing an old wood door left in the space and dragging it around, then screaming through its window at the audience. Four or five songs into their set, he ran into Jordan. Jordan retaliated, sending Jordan off balance, then grabbed a jug and dumped its contents all over him. I continued shooting, trying my best to capture the moment. I then looked down briefly at the preview screen on my digital camera and noticed that Drew's pants appeared to be changing color. I looked up and saw patches of white expanding across the denim fabric. It was I inhaled and smelled the burning chemical that I realized what Jordan had just done. That bottle of bleach that I had noticed in a photograph I took on our first show with DRY ROT back in Detroit had followed the band from city to city. It was carried with a purpose; a climax when the time was right.

Drew started to pull at his jeans, attempting to get out of them. His entire body was covered with a different sort of sheen, that wasn't like the sweat on other shirtless bodies; he looked glazed. Drew screamed into the microphone and the band hurtled onward through the song. He fell to the ground, then moments later, dropped the microphone and ran to the bathroom outside of the show space. The atmosphere inside was literally like a sauna, and now it was like a sauna that had been doused with bleach. No ventilation. People started coughing and left the room as quickly as they could. There was absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind that the show was over.

Ryan, DRY ROT's roadie, looked after Drew, flushing water over his body. After checking to make sure that Drew wouldn't need to go to the hospital and was doing alright, I got some "fresh" air and visited with Adam and Scott until it was time to load out and head over to the Jordan's house to crash.

We found a parking spot not far from the house, threw our belongings inside, then took a walk down to a nearby convenience store with DRY ROT. While I was inside buying myself a 1 liter bottle of amazing Turkey Hill ice tea, this black dude approached those of us who were waiting outside and asked for a cigarette. When he discovered that there was none to be had he became pissed off and warned everyone that things were about to get "buck wild". As I was walking away from the till, I noticed the guy sneak into the store as if he were hunting an animal with his bare hands. Finding his intended target, he grabbed a prized box of Slim Jims, then walked back out of the store, shoving through our party and staring us down. Intense but awesome. I hope he enjoyed his late night snack.

Back at the house, our hosts soon went to sleep. We took the opportunity to sit back and have a really good visit with DRY ROT. Cam, Joe and Mike sat around a table with DR drummer Pat and Ryan while I eventually decided to slip off into reminiscing my youth and watching a VHS copy of Ghostbusters II. All these years later, it's still pretty awesome. I still have a crush on secretary Janine Melnitz.

"Denim Gauntlet" from My Poetry Is Out Of Control by Jason Penner

Don't ride no train
Ride the hills
Don't stop for groceries
Don't help no old lady cross the street
Ride the hills
Ride the meatwave
Ride the meatwave
Ride the meatwave
To the Northwest
Don't ride no subway
Ride the meatwave
Ride the meatwave
Ride the meatwave
Your empty pockets


Scoring a pretty tasty vegan breakfast with Greg in Pittsburgh.


Under Pressure: where Gross St meets Friendship Dr.


Cam, checking out... I think it was an upstate New York swingers mag. Hot couples looking to bounce flab off each other's privates and all that jazz.


AMERICAN @ Jan's Room in Allentown, Pennsylvania


DRY ROT @ Jan's Room in Allentown, Pennsylvania








Bleach comes into play.








Scott and Adam (Escape Artist).


Hanging out, drinking some Turkey Hill ice tea after the show. I hung back from the conversation; my attention was focussed on Ghost Busters II.


Photo by Scott Kincade.