Mesh Magazine

Tartufi is back from its massive US tour and was kind enough to file this, the third, and final installment of the road diary. Visit Tartufi’s Myspace page for more info.
Ahoy Maties!

‘Tis we! The dueling duo of the dry seas! All that we ask is a large van and a star to steer her by. And that we got friends, that we got. Last we checked in, we were headed through Indiana, riding a wicked ground harvest high and grateful to have spent some good, old-fashioned, quality time with The Pope of Yes and Ronald McDonald in the freaky ass flesh. Next we hit Cleveland where we met one of the most kind and loving zombies ever to have lived, died, lived and then died again. [See photos 1 & 2] Brian got pretty cozy with Zombie and luckily a camera was near by….but not too near…..ewwwww. Zombie love. That night we slept in the van and, thanks to The Davenport, their fine staff members and an unlimited supply of PBR, we peed a small lake directly outside the army recruiting station in the parking lot. Tartufi - trying to prevent senseless recruitment for a senseless war one pee lake at a time. Mmmmm. Fresssshhhh.

What happened next may well have been one of the best things to ever have happened to us on this tour. We met up with a band so fierce, so relentlessly rocking, so second a-hole tearing, that we were forever altered - musically and mentally - from the experience. For the better! Yes folks, we joined forces with the one, the only, LOW RED LAND! These fellas not only shred harder than Laird Hamilton on an 87 footer, they also smell freshish and are good lookin’ to boot! [See photo 3 after the jump] Aaaand we had to good fortune to be introduced to and invited to stay with Neil John’s own momma! This woman is one of the kindest, sweetest ladies we have ever had the pleasure to meet. Thanks for the mommmmmwiches Mrs. Thompson! They went down a treat.

Enter - stage left - Cameron Cox. And not a moment too soon! Pamalam was kind enough to board our fair vessel for almost one whole month!?! And though she did not lighten our load, she sure did lighten our spirits, and introduce things such as cashew butter, crackers, stinky onions, more crackers, cucumber, fiddle faddle, lemon pepper, and the dreaded and unfortunate sauerkraut, to our 2 sandwich a day diet. Weeeeeird! Thanks Tim-Tam! [See photo 4] A powerful partner in pyrotechnical crime on the high seas are ye.

A quick trip to Italy by Brian and Cameron, the introduction of Lynne’s new nephew, Milo James Angel Burke, the sweetest child on this slow-suffering earth, and the ingestion of a cheesy broccoli bake later…..TARTUFI is again ready to confront rock and roll head on, cable-coiling hands at the ready, feedback sensors on high alert, earplug container restocked…..and they’re off! Headed south to the land of legal-ish fireworks, jerky, and unfortunate political sway. YEEEHAWWW. The Boot in Norfolk, VA is one of the best venues in operation. Not only is it a restaurant which supports local and organic products, the owners actually give a shit about music! No! Wait! They give a heck of a lot more than one shit. These guys have heart and work hard and honestly at supporting a community based around sustainability and grassroots production. Kudos to you Boot!

Once again North Carolina was a Gd laugh riot. Every show ripped and we had a blast seeing old pals and blowing up the sky. Thanks be to you Milestone, Neil, Kimosabe [farewell sweet band], Square One, Invisible, Joli Rouge, Birds on the Ground [you craaayyyzee ass mothers!] and Jared Micah and Hats! Thanks be to you.

Off to Austin where, technically, we played with Dinosaur Jr. Honestly, we played neeeeext to Dinosaur Jr. separated by one wall of cinder, about 43 minutes of solo-laden sonic expression, and a headful of hair, swaying gently to and fro, fingers a’flutter upon the fretboard. And that was Lynne! Ripper.

Enter stage right - ADVENTURE!
In Dallas we played Amanda’s birthday celebration and decided to pay homage to the birthday girl in true Tartufi fashion: f-i-r-e-w-o-r-k-s! While narrowly yet skillfully avoiding the fine force of Dallas police set loose upon the neighborhood and scaring the bejesus out of the staff and patrons of Club Dada, we managed to unleash a powerful display of night bloomers upon the area known as Deep Ellum. You are welcome fine folks, these are objects of beauty and not to be feared….or punished! [See Photo 5] Soon after the fireworks, the bass cabinet literally flips it’s shit right onto Lynne’s toe. DamnDAMNDamn! Broken. [See Photo 6]

Enter stage left - ICE STORM!!
Ok. So we head to Tulsa and potentially into one of the worst ice storms in history and how do we react? “OOOOOOooooooooooohhh!!! Pretty!!……It’s so…….sparkly!!! There is ice on everything!! No one has power!! Allllll the trees are down?!?! The club is CLOSED? LETS GO TO A MOOOOOOOVIE!!!! MOOOVIE! MOOOOVIE!!! MOOOVIE!!!! Heeeeeyyy? Why are the gas stations mobbed? MOOOOVIE!! MOOVIE!! MOOVIE!!! Heeeeeyyy??? What’s with all the sirens??? MOOOVIE!!! MOOOVIE!!! MOOVIE!!! Lookit me karate chop whole trees down!!! Lookitlookitlookit!!!” [See Photo 7]

One Lars and the Real Girl later and the slow yet stunning realization that Oklahoma is in some real trouble, we cozy up to an abandoned gas station and fall asleep to the sound of freezing rain pitter pattering upon the minutely cracked windshield. We arise with the cock’s crow and begin to drive. We are in need of gas but guess what?!?! There is no power and therefore no gas! So guess what!?!? We run out of gas!! But only after watching the crack in our windshield spread at a rate of two inches per second across the entire thing. Safety glasses are now necessary and mandatory when riding in the front. We will now let you in on a little secret: walking in the freezing rain with a broken toe to a gas station that is out of gas cans is not how we like to begin our days. Shocker. Somehow we make it out of Oklahoma, with little more than wet clothes, frozen bones, and a dangerously dinged windshield to be grumpy about. We experience belated feelings of Thanksgiving. We purchase beef jerky and immediately are plagued by the dreaded jerky jaw after emptying the bag of it’s contents.

Enter stage right - AWWW HELL TO THE NO!!
We head back to Texas to hit up The 806, a rad little cafe in Amarillo that is host to touring bands and has it’s finger on the pulse of the city. The show was rad and very well attended, the staff were awesome and make a kick-ass pizza bagel, and spirits were high. And then. Things started. To go. A little….funnnnny. We, TARTUFI, plead guilty to not trusting our well-honed instincts. We plead guilty to following some questionable drunkards back to their destroyed “house”, to setting off fireworks outside said “home”, to drinking beer and whiskey, and to sleeping on an even more questionable floor. We rise early and attempt to get the hell out of there asap. Upon exiting Brian grabs the bag of fireworks and we head to the van. As we are walking down the stairs we find ourselves quickly surrounded by a bunch of cops and a large group pf people.

The cops actually yell “FREEZE!!!” as they grab us and throw us into the backs of separate cop cars. Let it be stated that today is Lynne’s 29th birthday and, to make the event both special and even more memorable, this is her FIRST TIME in the back of, or anywhere near, a freaking cop car!! Joy of joys. Time passes slowly when you are locked in the back of a cop car as your mom calls you repeatedly to wish you a happy birthday and sing to you. It passes even more slowly when the last thing you heard was “….we’ll jeeeesst see if yer goanna go tah jail….” as chewing tobacco is expertly placed in lower lip. Umm. W. T. F. Apparently the kids we stayed with were not meant to be at that house, were severely underage, and severely mentally impaired…not to make character judgments but, ummmm, they went to jail for trespassing and burglary and the TEXAS officers of the LAW were kind enough to realize that we had nothing to do with such ridiculousness. They even passed us back our sack of explosives and stated, “Y’all knowww….fireworks ARE illegal…?” Thank you fine officers of the law, we will take note of this. [See Photo 8] Again with the belated feelings of THANKS. We get the fuck out of Texas.

Show show show home home home and here we are. Happy, healthy and freeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!

We may be damaged, bruised and battered but we did it. 55 shows in 60 days. DamnDAMNDamn-a-lang-a-you-look-Irish-DAAAMN! We is back!

TARTUFI will be playing only a few local shows next year so keep an eye out, an ear in, and we will see you in the pit.

Love,
Lynne and Brian

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 2nd, 2008 at 2:03 pm and is filed under Music, On the Road. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.