Bye Bye

Well, our final show was really good. I mean it. I'm not being bitter, sarcastic, or any of that jazz. We played together, we let our love show, and those that were there were digging it, I do believe.

We played twenty songs, ended with Horsehead (as usual), and that was it.

I didn't cry, and I thought I would.

Steve did manage to shatter the headstock of his DanElectro guitar, something which he predicted would happen. As a side note, when Ned Davis attempted to board an airplane with the headstock (he swiped it from the show), the security people were instantly suspicious. It took quite some explaining (apparently, the security folks do not often attend rock shows in which guitars are destroyed), but Ned was able to board the plane, albeit without the guitar strings. I guess you could use guitar strings as a weapon. I know I do.

It should be mentioned that Ned is a lunatic, he flew down from Rochester, NY to see the show.

Anyway, the final Squeaky show is well documented; Jason Sadler filmed the show with three cameras, and he's posting songs on Facebook. Option8 took some amazing photos, you can see them on his flickr profile.

Cutman and Sam Snead Trio were awesome, and so are you.

Thanks for Rocking

H/SQ

We're Done.

After a lot of shows, a lot of drummers, and a lot of broken strings, cymbals, and guitars, Squeaky is done.

The End Is Near

Well, it looks like our 14-year reign of terror might be over. Danny Welsh, the drummer that took us to newfound heights of musicianship and ridiculousness, has decided to move to Memphis, and the band will not continue without him. At this point, having switched drummers so many times, we just can't do it again.

We wish Danny and his fiance', Carola, all the best, and we secretly hope that they'll move back to Gainesville eventually, so that we can hurt your ears again. But we're not holding our collective breath.

It's bittersweet, of course. As the remaining members lurch into their forties, playing in a band, and a good one, is a rare form of pleasure/escape in our increasingly "adult" lives. I will miss the comradeship, the "band-ness" that happens when the four of us are together. It's one of those special things that happens and goes unnoticed until it's gone. I'm a sap, of course, but that's how I am.

Danny is a great drummer, too. That's important to say. He still knocks my socks off at practice on a regular basis. I love the little gleam he gets in his eye when he's just inserted some unexpectedly awesome fill into a song, and he's thinking, "Hell yeah... that was cool." And then there's "the lean." There are times when we're playing a song when the collective energy level surges forward. We all respond to the surge differently. Steven bends over and begins to punish his guitar. Karl jumps around, veins in his neck begin to stick out. I pound my foot into the ground and scream for joy. Danny sort of rises in his seat a little, and just leans into whatever he's playing a little more. Suddenly, the shit just takes off. Hard to explain.

Anyway, we've got two shows left before he leaves. To wit:

• Saturday, June 13, at 1982 with 8 Track Automatic and a nameless band featuring former members of Beat Buttons and current members of Grabass Charlestons.
• Friday, July 10, at Common Grounds with the same unnamed band.

Please come and see us, and bring cameras. We'd love for you all to document these shows as much as possible.
Thanks for Rocking.

Things That Must Be Said

It is not always easy being in a band. There are the usual difficulties: personality conflicts, creative frustrations, technical problems, etc. Carrying heavy equipment up a flight of stairs at 2 in the morning. That's a fucking problem. Usually, the problems are totally outweighed by the glories of playing music, either at practice or at a show. On the night of our last show, March 31st, the frustrations almost got the better of us.

We were going to open for Matt and Kim, an actual band that people like - they've been mentioned in Spin, have a video on MTV2 (what's the point of that? Is anyone watching?), etc. Whereas many of our shows are, shall we say, audience-challenged, this show was going to be a good chance to (hopefully) play in front of some people who don't know us. The day before the show, on my birthday, the promoter calls me to say that Matt and Kim have had to cancel, since Matt fucked his back up.
My first thought was "AAAARRGH! The curse continues!" For some reason, the big shows are usually disasters, while the little shows where we play to seventeen people are totally great. Then, we find out that not only is the headliner a no-go, the entire show is now canceled. Maybe you don't have kids, maybe you don't have a silly job, but for many of us in Squeaky, that show was sorely needed in our lives. And the thought of not playing a show was just... terrible.
We had practice that night, during which Danny hatched a plan to play a free show on the floor of Common Grounds, the site of the canceled show. Being old farts that we are, most of us had never heard of such a thing. A show on the floor? What? Uh, ok! Danny called the promoter, then he called his buddies in Laserhead (sorry... he texted them), and suddenly the show was on! Soon Facebook was positively aflutter with the news—Squeaky was playing anyway, for free. The next day, the day of the show, Steve and I made fliers and dutifully put them up all over downtown. How else would anyone know? We felt pretty good.

Until, that is, we rode home from work only to discover that all of ouf fliers were now covered over with new fliers from, you guessed it, Common Grounds (see my rant about flier ettiquette here). We were pissed. Our cell phones were hot with the expletives that were flying across the microwaves.
When I left my house for the show later that night, I was positively surly. I had had it with shitty clubs and shitty shows and I was already plotting the demise of the band. So was Steve. Until we got to the club, and it was set up really cool, everyone was nice, and... and... there were people there! We had a civilized dinner, got our attitudes right, and guess what? We had a great great show. There were a lot of people there, we played great, and I was really proud.
The lesson? Well, it might be that people don't really like our band, and that the only way to get them to come to a show is to not advertise or charge admission, but that's not the lesson that I took away from the whole thing. It was an affirmation of what I think is our band's demeanor and the fact that it really is fun to be a band and to play our version of the rock.
Smell you later,
H/SQ

What I Learned at Practice Last Night

Here's a complete run-down on how the members of Squeaky keep their armpits smelling fresh (or not):

Harry: Tom's of Maine, "Woodspice"
Karl: "old english? i think? i dunno."
Steve: Secret (Strong Enough for a Man, but Made for a Woman)
Danny: Has recently given up on wearing anything, as there's no point. He stinks no matter what he does.

Danny may have a point.

Please come see us sweat collectively, at Club 1982, Midtown Gainesville, FL, with Towers of Hanoi and Giuseppe, on Saturday February 21.

We Got So Welshed Last Night...

The band reconvened last night, after what seems like months, preparing for our upcoming show at 1982. Spirits were good, I think everyone was glad to be playing. Several times, we had to stop mid-song due to incessant giggling. Danny's Tama kit was back in action, it was awesome to hear his regular kit again.

Catchphrase of the night: Get Welshed (as in Danny Welsh, of course). Bizarre happening of the night: Karl suggested covering a Tears for Fears song and promptly began playing what we recognized as the bridge to "Head Over Heels." I was a little flabbergasted, it's usually Steve and I who are suggesting covering songs from that era, and I had no idea that Karl even liked Tears for Fears.

Also notable was Karl and Danny's pitch perfect rendition of the B-52s song, "Dance This Mess Around." They did it a cappella.

Anyway, we're getting ready to finally play a show, after 6 months off (!) from performing. It will be our first show comprised of three fathers and a Welsh. Saturday, February 21 at 1982, we'll be playing with Guiseppe and Towers of Hanoi. Come get Welshed.

H

Barack Me Obamadeus

Squeaky played our first show since June last night. It was a fundraiser for Barack Obama, complete with food from the Top and Satchel's Pizza. Personal highlights? The fact that mine and one of Steve's daughters were there, running around like crazy and generally being wonderful and cute. I showed Clovis my guitars, and she walked all around Common Grounds' stage, examining stuff. 

Another highlight: the dude who approached the stage and asked, "Do you still play King Me? You guys were my first show when I moved to gainesville, like 10 years ago. You guys were awesome."

Of course we still play King Me, and even though it was not supposed to be in the set, we rocked the pants off of that song just for that guy. I can't remember his name, unfortunately.

Anyway, it was good to see Scott Beckey play, it's been many years since he rocked that stage. Two Finger Suicide were really good, we played our previous show with them, and I hope we play more with them in the future. Funkiller were pretty hard to describe, but let it be said that they rocked an accordian con mucho gusto. Holopaw really swooped and swirled their way through some intense emotional territory, and I enjoyed the shit out of them. 

What else? I made some McCain jokes, Karl spoke more than he ever does at a squeaky show, reminding people to get their lame friends who wouldn't ordinarily vote to get their asses to the polls, and I got an Obama tshirt from my wife. Pretty awesome.

H

Do Both.

Although it's still not clear just what we're going to do with these songs, the five latest Squeaky recordings are finished and available online.

Via our Pownce page: Pownce is a social networking site that allows audio streaming to the world, and downloading of files once you have signed up for an account. It's a nice clearinghouse for all things Squeaky.

Via our MySpace page: Downloading is enabled, if you have an account. If not, you can just listen and enjoy the pretty pictures.

We'll have cds at shows, if you are not the downloading/streaming sort.

What can I say? These are the best songs we've ever done, in my opinion, and we want you to hear them.

Birth and Rebirth

Be warned: The world best make room for Harper Blue Bullock, Karl and Kris' beautiful baby girl. The future shredder was born early in the morning on the 5th of July. Everyone is well and tearful. Squeaky is now composed of three fathers and a drummer. 

We'll be finishing up mixing our new "record," while we patiently wait for Karl to return to the fold, a changed man. The stuff we recorded just a few weeks ago is our best yet, and we will prove that to you.

I saw beautiful Harper last night, and I swear she was getting ready to play some guitar with those long fingers.

H

Do Both! or SlayBacon

Work continues on the as-yet-untitled Squeaky recording. Karl calls it SlayBacon and I call it Do Both. We have no idea what we're doing with this recording, we know from experience that not many people will hear it, let alone care. But we think it's great, and we're gonna keep going nuts with it until somebody stops us. 

Karl finished most of his vocals last night, we may have a little touch-up work to do on one song, but he was the priority, since he will soon be out of pocket when Baby Blue arrives. Everybody sang their asses off, vocal parts were written where none existed previously, rough mixes were mixed, and generally, it was great to hang with my best friends and work on music together. It struck Steve and I this morning that these are great songs, some of our finest ever. And that we really have been a band for a long time. We know exactly what we want out of a recording, including some sloppiness and imprecision, and we know how to communicate what we want. At this point, a "producer" would just get in the way. Sure, it would be "better," but who wants that? 

H