photos, video and updates by Hayley Young
Day 5: Santa Cruz.
The Crepe Place has a beautiful patio. Beautiful patios are in short supply in our Emerald City. I’m pretty easy to please in this regard, however this place gets 5 stars.
Each venue and city holds it’s own style of audience. Tonight, during Loch Lomond’s opening set, the front row of admirers take to the floor to enjoy the show, while a busy bar in the rear is quieted, eyes and ears peeled.
In the back of the patio, the movie Old School is projected as Hey Marseilles take their places on stage.
Earlier, during load in, I sat near a small group of Santa Cruz locals deep in conversation about their musical interests and experiences. The women I found myself eavesdropping upon knew their shit; at least by my standards. Don’t let Santa Cruz’s size or distance from Seattle/Portland fool you. These people care about their music. With a couple of blonde exceptions, Santa Cruz receives Hey Marseilles with great stride.
As the bands begin packing up, Richie Young takes a photo of me. Sounds like no big deal, but the process is a bit complicated. I am proud of his coordination to do so with the vintage Polaroid camera, cordless/hand-held flash and low shutter speed. Good work, Mr. Young.
After the show, Nelson is taking us south to Salinas, the ghetto-ass town where we will be sleeping tonight. Shortly after we settle into our rooms, Colin Richie and Jacob Anderson will step out to the van and witness a catastrophic car accident. Those involved in the accident will flee the scene, a homeless man will approach Richie and Anderson from the bushes with his take on the event and the cops who arrive shortly after will act under whelmed by these truths.
Day 6: Santa Barbara.
I’m a little concerned. Due to lack of time and challenging logistics, we are on day 6 and have only shot 2 of the 7 video takes. Perhaps it is this pressure that convinces me that, yes, we should bypass the “authorized vehicles only” sign. Yes, we should take our giant-ass van (and trailer) down this dirt road through a field of Cheveron oil drills. Yes, it is trespassing. Fine. But it looks great and I am desperate.
After we are escorted off of the property by three Cheveron employees, the youngest of which being a babyfaced twenty-something serving as leader, I lament on our failure. Now we have spent the little time allotted for this project on a conversation about rattlesnakes and fire ants with three men with mustaches and beer bellies. We’ll have to make up for it in Santa Barbara.
Muddy Waters Cafe. Another perfect patio. As the band loads in, I begin to set up for our 3rd shot in the street adjacent to the venue. The sun is setting, making for both an interesting color pallete and a relaxed amount of passing cars. Nick Ward takes to the middle of the street, contributing his portion of the project as locals pass by in their Cadillacs and Hyundais.
The venue is full. Two hippies are dancing on the sidewalk. A crazy man will crash Loch Lomonds set, Steel Reserve in tow, heckling each song as if it were played just for him. Dave Depper will shush him. He will concede and retreat to the patio for the remainder of the evening.
At our hotel, Matt Bishop and Colin Richey are wrestling on the bed. It looks dangerous. The after party is at Don’s, a dive bar across the street from Loch Lomond’s hotel. Richie Young and I will kick Bishop and Richey’s ass at pool. A mix of music ranging in the likes of Guns and Roses, Patsy Cline and Blue Ocean will serve as the soundtrack for our triumph.
We heart Santa Barbara.