Starting at the End
Coming home from tour
Let’s consider this to be one of those non-linear narratives that starts near the end of the entire journey. Like the scene with that old guy who portrays Matt Damon’s future self in Saving Private Ryan, crying in the cemetery. Or the fake narrator in Atonement by Ian McEwan. Actually I have no idea if that’s how Atonement starts, I just know that novel is a mind fuck.
We’re now home from tour licking our wounds and trying to get some rest. There’s something so 0-100 and back down to 0 about starting and ending a tour. It fascinates me - the spurring of a pseudo-depression steeped in pride that creeps up with the final kilometres as you inch towards your own bed.
We really did have the best time ever. We crushed one million beers, made so many incredible new friends and got to share our art throughout the beautiful country of Canada. Even though it was winter, it was still beautiful.
One of the highlights of the tour was playing in Toronto on my 30th birthday. What a trip man. Seriously. Here’s a video to prove it.
The first show we ever played as a band was to 40 people in a cafe in Toronto on November 29th, 2024. One year later to rip for 1000 people at the Phoenix feels nearly impossible to comprehend.
Shoutout Grandson and his squad - the goats forever.
Over the next few weeks we’re going to be writing some stories and talking about our travels and how we definitely didn’t slide 50 feet on ice across an off ramp in the minivan on our way to Montreal… about how we *definitely didn’t* get a $470 speeding ticket in the Rockies.
Sometimes being on tour feels like a binary - either die on the road or go directly to jail, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.
We’re gonna talk about Ratboy Ryan - our horse - our chariot - our fourth man in. The Phil Jackson to our Jordan, Pippen, Rodman.
We’re gonna talk about Goblin’s Grill in Saskatoon and why if the guy taking your order asks if you want the spicy “Short Fuse” burger, you probably shouldn’t get it cuz you’re insanely hungover and still have four hours to drive across the freezing tundra in the pitch black fog trying not to embed the whip into the ass of a moose.
Thank you for the people lifting us up and to all the people who subscribed to the Substack throughout the duration of the tour. We can’t wait to be in touch, share more special moments and talk about what we have coming up in the new year.
Much love - xoxoxoxo
Dumb Crush