Jeremy Porter Road Blog

Road Blog: Saturday October 19, 2024 - Seattle, WA

Road Blog
October 19, 2024
Seattle, Washington

I left my dive motel in Bellingham, Washington around 11am in a light rain and warmer temps that Friday in Vancouver and headed south on the 5 towards Seattle. The rain was on and off, and I was relieved that the torrential downpours from Friday had lightened up a bit. I drove the 2 hours to my motel near SeaTac Airport without stopping and was grateful for the early check-in. With a few hours to kill/chill I called TrooperGirl22 who was getting ready to go see The Sadies and Duende at Third Man Records with her girlfriends. I changed the strings on my guitar and watched Michigan get embarrassed by Illinois, and headed out.

I headed over to my pal Joe’s house and the Temple of the Trees Studio west of the airport where he was setting up for a video session. I met his wife Karyn and his dog Domino, sporting the cone of shame as the girl’s going through a rough patch. We ran through a couple songs we were going to play together at the show and Domino seemed to think they sounded good, content to nap on the arm of the couch while we played. I said “not bad” and Joe asked me if that was the bar we were setting and going for, with his high-pitched cackle and half-sarcastic smile. I said we could elevate it and shoot for “loose” if he wanted, so we aimed for that instead. Seemed like a reasonable goal.

I drove into the city and the traffic was intense but manageable. I got a great parking spot for a reasonable price across the street from the Blue Moon and loaded in. I said hello to Dooley, the owner/booker/bartender – a bit of a salty dude, but working hard to run one of the longer-standing venues in the city. He pointed me to a gyro/shawarma joint around the corner I could hit before soundcheck so I headed out in the rain to Shawarma Time and had an awesome mixed beef and chicken shawarma wrap and took half to go for later.

Back at the venue, I did a quick sound check after the headliners MIKE SPINE band and before Laurent Chavannes and Moving in Slow. My friend Wanda and her boyfriend Travis surprised me – I’d last seen them a year and 2 days ago when The Tucos played Dallas, and they’d since moved to Seattle, and then, in another “is this happening?” moment, Dave, bassist from Best Kissers In The World, introduced himself and his friend Tina. I was/am a huge fan of that band and it was a bit surreal, but more about that later.

Moving in Slow went on first, playing some tight and polished, well written and executed indie guitar pop. These guys are probably half the age of the rest of the performers that followed, and they’ve only been together for a few months, but they played a great set to an energetic and growing crowd, and it was refreshing to see some younger dudes bringing it without the cynicism and jaded perspective of us more aged vets.

Joe went on second, playing a couple The Meices songs, an Alien Crime Syndicate song or two, and one of my fav Society of the Silver Cross songs – the Tom Waits-ish “We All Belong to Time,” as well as a couple cool unreleased songs. I haven’t seen Joe play since September, 2004, and he rarely plays solo-acoustic, so it was a treat for sure. After a few songs, he called me up and I scolded him under my breath: “Dude, I saw your setlist at your house today, and ‘Daddy’s Gone to California’ was on it. What the F?” but it wasn’t meant to be.

We played The Meices “Uncool” and my song “Hallmark Holiday” together, and I joked that it “wasn’t bad, eh?” and that 25-year-old me was quietly freaking about the collaboration. After that Joe stepped down and I went right into my set without a break and played maybe 10 songs for a respectable and receptive crowd. I was a bit amped up from playing with Joe, but also with the realization that this was the end of the tour, and especially the insane, non-stop, 12-day Pacific Northwest/Western US run that was culminating at that moment. As usual, I finished with “Huckleberry” and cleared the stage for Mike and the band.

The Mike Spine band were more rock and less Americana than I expected, in all the good ways! They had a punk edge, but it was more high-velocity indie/alt-rock than punk. Great songs, unique-sounding and convincing vocals, and great 2-guitar interplay. The dual Teles were sweet, but they sounded best when Mike played the Les Paul, which added a nice texture to the other Tele. They closed with as good a version of “Cortez the Killer” as I’ve heard, and the night was complete. I chatted with Dave and Tina for some time, and Joe joined us for a bit before he had to get back to the studio. I sold the very last copy of my record that I had with me, a small victory there, and Wanda headed off in a Lyft to an EDM concert across town. I thanked Mike, Dooley, and the soundman and headed out myself.

I got back to the motel around 12:20am, a short 3 hours before I had to leave for the airport to return my car and catch an early flight back to Detroit. By the time I annihilated the other half of my shawarma and got my 80lbs of luggage dispersed between a suitcase, a guitar case, and a backpack, it was nearly 2am and any amount of sleep was pretty much out of the question. I laid down, watched a little Sports Center, rested my eyes for an hour, got up and deactivated my alarm before it even went off at 3:10am. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, zipped up the bags, and dragged that 80lbs of gear, unsold merch, laundry, newly-purchased records, and electronics to the rental for the final time. It was the middle of the night, but somewhat warm, and wet, but not raining. I was still buzzing from the Seattle show and Vancouver the night before, but excited to get home.

I turned in the rental car with 3558 new miles on it and was glad to be done with that sucker. That’s like driving from Detroit to Rochester, New York every day for 11 days in a row. I had to chuckle at the beating I put on her, but I also paused for a moment to give her the Jeremiah Johnson head nod as I remembered the pickle she got me out of on that insane steep gravel "road" in the mountains outside Boulder (go back and read that blog if you missed it!). I won’t be buying a Mitsubishi Outlander any time soon, but I suppose you could do worse. I like to think she’ll miss me too, in a Stockholm Syndrome kind of way.

At the terminal I was glad to check the suitcase, weighing in at 44lbs, with 6 to spare before an upcharge, and got through TSA Pre-check without issue, the other 40+lbs in my backpack and guitar case. I got a coffee at the only open vendor at 4:45am and fired up the laptop and started working on this blog. Exhausted, and nearly 24 hours since my last sleep, I half-dozed on an off for most of the flight while watching the Jaguars beat the Patriots and listening to Lillie Mae and landed in Detroit just as the Lions went down 10-0 to the Vikings in the first quarter. TrooperGirl22 picked me up, and it was awesome to see her. Hurricane Jeremy is back in town, and her clean house is doomed, soon to be riddled with nasty laundry, a new stack of records, and loose cables and pedals that have to find their way back to the band room in the coming weeks.

So that’s a wrap, folks. What started with an Ontario/Quebec run in September, then through Ohio and a great Record Release show in Ypsilanti, some Tucos dates with WATERSHED, then these insane 12 days out west is over. The last 2 weeks are a blur, and honestly a bit on the intense side when it comes the miles and drives, but after I come down I won’t regret it. It’s surreal to think that on this run I met and hung with members of The Romantics, Doughboys, Meices/Alien Crime Syndicate, and BestKissersInTheWorld. All of that stuff was the soundtrack of my life from 1989 into the 2000s, and if you’d told me then that in 2024 I’d be touring the NW and hanging with those guys, I’d tell you that you were off your rocker. Life is crazy awesome sometimes.

So here’s to keepin’ at it, despite the guarantee reneges and late gig cancellations by promoters and venue owners who’s word and integrity isn’t worth a pile of cow shit outside Moses Lake, Washington. To Dollar Car Rental, who's word is no better, and waits until you’ve flown 3 time zones away and run your credit card to tell you that you can’t leave the state with their vehicle, so you’re left to pay double at a neighboring company. And, through requests for “something from the 80s” and open-mic nights where “you gotta play with the house band” and old fellas who jump on stage between songs to tell ya how they used to smoke crack with Sly Stone in Los Angeles in the 70s. You can’t make that shit up.

Love to all my friends who came out between Portland and Seattle – and Canada and the midwest before - way too many to name – but one of my favorite things about touring is seeing you all. Back to civilian life for a bit, finish the Tucos record, and figure out where the hell to go from here. Love yaz xx