A Peaceable Tour Diary

Part 6: Descending on the heartland

May 23, 2024

An old fashioned curtain call. Photo: Brandon Morreale

Saturday, May 18
Milwaukee, WI

Here we are, back at the Riverside Theater. Another one of those spots that we seem to have played a million times before. It’s a GOT (Grand Old Theater) on the banks of the Milwaukee River. The immediate surroundings are pretty spectacular — the back of the venue abuts the riverwalk and an idle touring musician will find ample to do, just waltzing along the pavement, watching the bridges go up and down for the tourist boats. Not that I did any of that. I walked down about a block, watched a bridge go up and down, and decided I’d had about enough. On my way back to the theater, I see Jenny on a park bench, smoking a cigarette. There is a bluetooth speaker sitting next to her, blasting Journey. She points to a gentleman on a neighboring bench — apparently he is DJing for her. Strictly Journey, though. Which is fitting: “Faithfully,” I guess, puts her in mind of her husband. It happens that Jenny and husband Steve were actually engaged after a show at the Riverside Theater, either in 2009 or 2011. I think 2009. Kismet!

As I’ve written in earlier diary entries, the dressing room scene at GOTs tend to be subterranean. Not so at the Riverside. Today’s selection of dressing rooms are distinctly vertical. Catering is on the 8th floor; the band’s dressing rooms are on 2, 3, and 4. There is a charming old elevator that will run you from one floor to the other, complete with one of those sliding metal gates and an attendant, but it is a desperately slow conveyance. Take it once and forever be resigned to just opting for the stairs. I get a lot of steps in. My fitness app has me climbing 17 flights over the course of the day.

There is a well-loved DK Marvel Superheroes Encyclopedia book in my dressing room, its spine shorn of its cover. I wouldn’t doubt if we hadn’t left it here on one of those tours where Hank used to come along. All things Dorling Kindersley was his jam back when he was a little guy. So that’s enough to get you a little verklempt, three weeks removed from your family.

We’re at that point in the tour where I am less conservative about my voice use (quite the opposite — my voice seems to be behaving like a twenty year-old Nissan Cube — sounds like absolute garbage until you’ve driven it for about fifteen minutes) and sound check rehearsals are less imperative. Yes, it’s about time for a Steve Miller sound check, ladies and gentlemen. “Jet Airliner,” “Take the Money and Run,” “Fly Like An Eagle” — they all get a good airing here at the Riverside before we usher the Shebangers into the venue.

Liftoff possible with all that stair climbing. Photo: Brandon Morreale

It’s a full house tonight at showtime — the people at the tippy top of the balcony seem to be skirting their heads along the rafters. But the crowd is sweet and boisterous and obliging when I brave the aisle during “I Was Meant for the Stage,” once again putting my faith (and full body weight) on seat arms that have probably been around since the Nixon administration. I’ve been hollering out an introduction of the band at the very end of the show, but “Joan in the Garden” is so demanding vocal-wise I have longed to cut that out and just move straight to silence as soon as the last note is sung. So instead I gather everyone on stage for one of those curtain call-type goodbyes. It’s good! Maybe a little old fashioned, but a nice end for the evening. We’ll keep it.

Riverside Theater Backstage Shower (Floor 4):
General Layout/Ambiance: ★★☆☆☆
Water Pressure: ★★☆☆☆
Temperature: ★★★☆☆
User Interface: ★★★☆☆

Sunday, May 19
St. Paul, MN

Here we are, arrived at another GOT. This time it’s the Palace Theater in downtown St. Paul, Minnesota. We’ve played her once before — back when it was newly refurbished. These old theaters always have lot of super interesting history behind them. They typically start out as vaudeville houses, doing actual live theater, only to be renovated into a movie theater once that medium took over the world. Then, with the rise of your ubiquitous suburban Megaplex, many a American GOT fell into rack and ruin. Their husks are repurposed as warehouses, as squats, and sometimes, as in the case of Brooklyn’s Paramount Theater, as basketball courts. At some point, someone decides that these beautiful Belle Epoque/debut de siecle constructions should be used for their original purpose, and a gagillion dollars are raised for the rehabilitation.

We get a reprieve from the stair-climbing of the day before — today’s dressing rooms are a short flight down into the building’s underbelly. It’s a small, tidy corridor, but the dressing rooms are nicely furnished. I take a shower; rating will be posted below. The weather outside is mild and inviting; I bring my book out to the sidewalk by the bus and sit in a camp chair, reading, while John and Victor begin work on an as-yet undisclosed crafts project. It’s gets a little cold and windy after a time and I hoof it back into the venue. Someone has arrived from Electric Fetus Records with 150 As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Agains for us to sign. Every conceivable horizontal surface is used for this project. We make pretty short work of it.

At soundcheck, my voice is feeling a bit fried. The voicebox is a wild and mysterious thing. In any case, it’s passable by the time the Shebangers wind into the venue. During my pre-show warmups, it’s getting better. By showtime, everything’s up and running. The train continues down the line, my larynx latched tight to that open window. Please, won’t someone reach out and let it in.

The standing room crowd here is itching for a fight, I can feel it. One nice thing about the Palace is that the floor is all standing and the balconies are seated. It’s kind of the best of both worlds, a mix of a BDRC and a GOT. There’s enough bobbing and weaving in the sea of people that I, for a moment, have this fantastical vision of a mosh pit getting started — which would be wild. This does not transpire. What does transpire, though, is that the crowd, about halfway through the show, lets out this collective howl — like a dog’s howl — that seems to catch and carry throughout the venue. I assume it was because we just introduced our drum tech/side intrumentalist and native Minneapolian Bob Beahen. It isn’t till two days later that I’m told it was because the Timberwolves won their playoff series. Kudos, Wolves!

Monday, May 20
Chicago, IL (DAY OFF)

O, blessed day, O blessed day off. When I wake up, the bus is parked beneath a downtown Chicago overpass. “This where they shot Batman,” says Chris Funk, dispenser of morning insights. There is an unmarked door directly adjacent the bus. We are to ring the buzzer; someone will open it and escort us into the hotel. It all has the feeling of a secret society. I follow the instructions. The door is quickly opened and I am ushered inside. A man in coveralls beckons me to follow him through a maze of windowless corridors till we arrive at an elevator. I am not inducted into any kind of brotherhood; I am instead sent to the thirtieth floor of the Pendry hotel. That’s where my room is.

One of the great pleasures of tour is a perfectly appointed hotel room. I don’t think of myself induling in much diva-type behavior, but a good hotel room goes a long way toward soothing the tour-weary soul. Today, I am blessed with a ton of natural light and a commanding view of the Chicago River. After a week and a half of living almost entirely on a tour bus, it feels well earned. Here’s the view:

I spend the day walking the length of Michigan Avenue, think a little retail therapy might be just the ticket for curing whatever mid-tour blues I might have. I return to the hotel room with new underwear and socks. I’m a bad shopper. Beyond that, I opt to stay in and nest a little. I read my book; I watch some TV. All is well with the world.

Tuesday, May 21
Chicago, IL

The Salt Shed! Let me sing your praises.

But first, let me address what seems to be a frequent question (or at least one that has recently been brought to my attention). Some of you might be curious about the pre-show music, the stuff you hear as you’re milling about the venue, waiting for the show to start. Well, I’m happy to oblige. Here’s the official A Peaceable Kingdom Tour 2024 pre-show milling-around music — aka “House Music Playlist”:

This one you can feel free to put on shuffle. It’s a lot of random stuff that I’ve been loving over the last few years. You might recognize some of the songs from recent mixtapes I’ve made for this Substack.

But here I am, meant to be singing the praises of The Salt Shed, a newish venue here in the fine city of Chicago, Illinois. Let me get back to that. The Salt Shed is a giant repurposed warehouse on the site of the old Morton’s salt factory. It’s only recently been converted into a BDRC. One can play either inside or outside. We were about to move the show outside, I guess, but today we are glad we didn’t. It is very stormy outside; there are thunderstorms and tornadoes in the forecast. Our old friend and backing singer Kelly Hogan was going to make the trek into the city to join us on stage, but had to bail when she was forced to shelter in her basement because of a tornado warning.

One can tell when a BDRC has been built (or repurposed from something else) in a thoughtful way — when the developers have made comfort for both audience and artist a priority over profits. The Salt Shed is one such place. The backstage is very well designed, with tons of space to stretch out. That’s all we want in the world, people. When you’re stuck on a bus for four weeks straight with seven other adults, stacked in bunks like so many sarcophagi in a mausoleum, a little elbow room in a backstage area goes a long way. Sadly, because we have been ferried to the Salt Shed from our hotel rooms, I am already showered and so do not sample the local fixtures — but I’m sure they were Grade A. The toilets have bidets, for Chrissakes. It’s all so very luxe.

They’ve left flowers for us, too, which is nice. We walk onstage with the flowers and throw them into the audience. An auspicious beginning to a show. From the outset, the whole vibe is tending toward riotous. A nice give and take is established between us and the audience. I’m not sure I can properly give words to the experience, but Rich Funk (Chris Funk’s newly adopted second cousin once removed) took some great photos: