Jazz Fest 2012 Review

April 30th, 2012

After a week on tour w/ JJ Grey and Mofro we were primed and ready to bring the heat on the big stage.  We had a blast and made a great impression. Thank you all for the kind words and support!

“In defiance of the morning hour, singer David Shaw and his compatriots demonstrated the poise, passion and pop sense that make them the most buzzed-about rock band in New Orleans”

Full article: “The Revivalists Rocked Early at The New Orleans Jazz Fest”





The Ballad of Zack and Dave

April 19th, 2012

Hello, friends! Rob here.

It’s been about a week now, and I’ve got to say it’s great to be back in New Orleans. For example, did you know that it’s still cold in some parts of the country? Last week’s Seattle/New Orleans driveathon took us from 35-degree lows to 90-degree highs. It was nice, after working our way upwards into colder and colder climes, to emerge from two days of delirious semi-consciousness (seriously, try spending 40 hours in a van sometime) and suddenly be in shorts weather.

Speaking of shorts weather, French Quarter Fest was just plain awesome. There were way more people than had any business being at a music festival at 4:30 in the afternoon on a Thursday, and we managed to get everyone out of their lawn chairs by a few songs into the set. The next afternoon we set out for Alley Bar in Montgomery. Andrew was out of town at a family wedding, so we enlisted the help of everyone’s favorite Campanelli stand-in, Mr. Sam Shahin of Mississippi Rail Company. Unfortunately, because we were driving back after the show, we didn’t get to indulge quite as fully in the bar’s sub-zero-ice-shotglass room as we did last time. Also absent on this trip: Underground jazz club with vat of mysterious blue liquid.

The rest of the weekend we didn’t do shows unless we were Zack or Dave. Since I am not Zack or Dave, I can only guess as to how they went. And so I will:

Fifteen miles into the drive to Orange Beach, AL, the van broke down. Because the band had already exhausted this decade’s allotment of AAA roadside assistance, Zack and Dave were forced to take a dogsled the rest of the way. Apparently, there’s some kind of law or something against operating animal-powered vehicles on the interstate, so an overweight sheriff in a backwoods (backswamp?) Louisiana Parish made it his personal crusade to bring these young scofflaws to justice. After a harrowing chase spanning all of the twelve miles between Slidell and the LA/MS state line, our intrepid band guys arrived at the bridge on the River Pearl.

The sheriff knew they would be coming this way. Half the parish was already on their tail, but still, Dave and Zack commanded a team of fifteen mighty sled dogs. All of the huskies were surprisingly agile, especially considering that they were hauling both a sled and a two-axle trailer full of band equipment behind them. The sheriff was taking no chances. By the time the band guys reached the bridge, his deputies had already blown it up. With dynamite.

All that stood between our heroes and their stripped-down acoustic gig was one forty-foot gap. That, and the remaining 156 miles of the drive. Which, as you may recall, was no longer a drive, but a dogsled ride. Anyway. Victory lay ahead of them. Well, maybe victory, but also maybe falling into a river and possibly dying because of that. Behind them, however, was a minimum forty-two dollar fine, with a maximum penalty of seventy-five dollars and, somehow, the installation of an Ignition Interlock Device on the dashboard of their dogsled for a period not to exceed eight months.

Eight long months. They couldn’t spend 244 of the 250 days left until the end of the world driving their dogsled sober. The choice was clear. They had to jump.

It was like a scene right out of some movie. And that movie was The Blues Brothers. Except it was a dogsled, instead of a car. And there wasn’t that bit at the end about the cigarette lighter, because smoking is bad. Also, once they were clear of the gap, the sheriff threw his hat onto the ground and stomped on it while saying folksy cuss words like “goldarnit” and “tarnation.”

And so it was that Zachary Feinberg and David Shaw evaded the entire law enforcement community of St. Tammany Parish, LA and made it to their gig on time. They played a fine show, and on the return trip they were promptly apprehended upon crossing the state line into Louisiana. In a trial that one New York Post reporter described as “farcical,” their sentence was suspended due to the judge’s inability to remand fifteen sled dogs into state custody. The Revivalists will be performing live this Thursday at Swampfest in Lafayette, LA and Saturday at a private function in Athens, GA. The following week they will be on the road with JJ Grey and Mofro, so their blog coverage may become (okay, remain) unreliable. Thank you for your time and goodnight.

I Been Gone a Long Time: A Month (or so) in Cell Phone Pictures

April 12th, 2012

Hello, friends!  Rob here.

Home, sweet home!  I’d love to regale you with the inspiring tale of how we heroically spent forty hours in the van without bed or shower (it was really smelly) because we were all anxious to finish the drive home from Seattle, but actually that’s pretty much the whole story.  About thirty hours in we asked David Hasselhoff for his thoughts on the subject of spiders via twitter, but he hasn’t gotten back to us yet.  If you really want to know what the ride was like, stand over a trash can for ten minutes while watching six guys alternate between books and naps, and then multiply that by 240.  Fun!

As I’m sure you’ve noticed, tiredness has become a bit of a recurring theme in my entries as of late.  In keeping with that theme, I’m going to skip the whole “writing about things that happened” part of this blog and just dump a bunch of pictures I’ve taken on my cell phone over the last month or two or three*.  Some are from home, some from the road, and some I don’t even remember taking.  Captions below photographs, here we go:

The horns in the doorway.  My two saxes, and Mike’s trumpet.  Taken at the tech rehearsal for our recent performance on Liveset.


I believe, as objectively as I possibly can, that there will never be a more awesome picture of Ed.


Dave and our dear Maggie Koerner join Galactic onstage at Tipitina’s to perform “Hey Na Na” at their legendary Lundi Gras funk marathon.  They told Dave and Maggie to show up in costumes, but I’m pretty sure Dave forgot and just did the show in the same outfit he wore to dinner.


…And the next morning, all of the non-exhausted members of The Revivalists joined the festivities at the umpteenth annual Krewe of Julu parade!  Bonus points if you can guess which Revivalist that is in the front left strutting his stuff! (Suspenders, green-ish pants, hat)


If there is a better possible name for an indoor minigolf course, then shut up no there isn’t.


From an exclusive jam session at one of suburban Chicago’s finest establishments.  It might not be entirely clear in this photo, but the surface of the bar is a piece of glass on top of an impressive collection of concert ticket stubs.


On the road, you see a lot of crazy “IT COSTS US FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS A WEEK TO KEEP OUR BATHROOMS CLEAN SO PLEASE PLACE YOUR PAPER TOWELS IN THE WASTEBASKET YOU FILTHY LITTLE MONSTERS”-type messages, but this one is my favorite for reasons I find difficult to explain.


“‘Jewtown’ Polish Sausage.”  This is an actual sign, written on an actual building (presumably some type of charcuterie), in an actual town somewhere near the Southern end of the actual state of Arkansas.


Speaking of things that actually exist…


You have to drive through about 300 miles of this to get to California.  Small wonder it took a gold rush to get Americans over there in the first place.


El Paso, TX.  Pictured: Beer-to-go bodega, bouquet of flowers in a dumpster, message stenciled on same dumpster reading “KEEP LIDS CLOSED – NO SCAVENGING.”


Snowball microphones custom-decorated by artists visiting the Blue Microphone Headquarters in Southern California.  Can you find ours?  HINT: It’s the one in front that says “THE REVIVALISTS” on it.


San Francisco is so beautiful that it almost looks better on a cloudy day.


The Soul Rebels are cool.


Just another stupid picture of how obnoxiously beautiful California is.


My aunt’s awesome weather vane, and a bit of the splendid view from her backyard.


The Rebirth Brass Band:  Finally, something that Portland isn’t too cool for  (for real though we had a wonderful time in Portland).


This busker at the Pike Place Fish Market in Seattle really knows how to…  BRING IT!  (You see, because he brought his piano with him)


Dear Mr. Webster: I am writing to you regarding a conversation we had a few weeks ago at a cocktail party hosted by a mutual acquaintance.  You mentioned in passing that once you could find an appropriate photograph or illustration to accompany the word “Glorious,” you would be ready to publish that book of yours (the collection of English words and their definitions, I forget the term you used for it).  Well Noah, my friend, your days of searching are over!


At the end of the tour, after a long night’s work, Zack and Andrew get cozy with their Apple products.


We’re ten hours into the Seattle/New Orleans driveathon, and there is exactly one restaurant in all of Montana that stays open on Easter Sunday.  Also mountains.


We’re thirty hours into the Seattle/New Orleans driveathon, and there are probably plenty of restaurants open in my hometown of Tulsa, OK, on account of the fact that it is now Monday.  Too bad we’re driving straight through.  There’s enough time for me to lean over whoever’s driving at the moment and snap a blurry picture of downtown.  700 miles later, we’re all home.

Well, that’s it, folks!  We’re going to be on a bit more of a relaxed schedule for the next few weeks, so expect the blogs to get a bit more Wednesday-ish as I get settled back into the absurd caricature of normalcy that I call life at home.  Thanks for letting me make some room for new pictures on my phone!  See you around.

*: Ultimately, this ploy will backfire and end up taking WAY longer than if I had just puked out a bunch of words and then capped it off with something about how the world will be over in 253 days.

Shinylikeatuba, OR: The Wonderful World of Waterobics

April 6th, 2012

Hello, friends! Rob here.

I had a chalupa freakout just now.

After a jovial post-show cooldown with Rebirth and some of Eugene, Oregon’s more interesting characters, we don’t have it in us to take out any of tomorrow’s drive to Seattle. Right now, we need food and sleep. We rent three luxurious rooms here in Eugene. Now for food.

Forty-five dollars’ worth of Taco Bell on the company credit card (and not a modicum of shame) later, we’re driving back to the hotel and divvying up. Everyone seems to have all of their food. But I can’t find my chalupa. Where is it? Seriously guys, stop doing things. No I don’t want my suitcase. I want my chalupa. Where the hell is my chalupa?

Oh, it’s just in that bag over there.

I’m realizing that, considering the brevity and insanity of our last few visits home, we’ve basically been on the road since late January. At the same time, I am also realizing that this may be affecting my thought process in manners untoward.

In shorter, less oblique terms: The road has taken its toll.

By all means, it has been a fair price. The views alone have been worth the trip. In fact, I’m going to go ahead and retroactively dub this “The Revivalists’ Official HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THAT BEAUTIFUL MOUNTAIN/VALLEY/CITYSCAPE/OCEAN/HERD OF ELK/MEXICO Tour.” These past few days in Oregon have been a nice follow-up to our enchanted week in California. For a child of The Heartland, I have a surprising lot of family in Portland, and it was very nice to get to see all of them. That goes double for my dear aunt Kathy, who not only hosted us for two nights, but also connected the guitar guys in the band with her pal Conrad Sundholm, a legendary ampcrafter who co-founded Sunn Amps back in the 1960s. Nowadays he makes some fantastic equipment under the banner of Conrad Amps. They talked for a while, and he was even cool enough to let Zack borrow one for our show in Portland on Wednesday. It sounded, in a word, gooooooooooooooooooood.

We’ve rejoined forces with the Rebirth Brass Band for the home stretch of this tour, which is always fun. The way things have been going, it’s strange to think that we’re less than a week away from our own beds, our own kitchens, our own bathrooms

Trust me, it’s a tantalizing prospect. All we have left is two shows in Seattle followed by the approximately 7,309,146,238-mile drive back to New Orleans, which we’ll have to knock out in three-ish days in order to be ready for French Quarter Fest. Wish us luck. We’ll do you the same in about 258 days. You ought to know why by now.

And now it’s time for me to stop writing. I’ve stayed up late enough as it is, and I certainly wouldn’t want to be… SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE!


Hangout Fest 2012!!!!

April 5th, 2012

We won!!!!!!

Thank you guys so much for voting. We got the news while we were on stage in San Francisco right before our set. Bassist George Gekas got the news on his phone to which exclaimed, “Tommy just sold a half a million brake pads!”

For more on this triumph check out this nice article/interview on ReverbNation’s blog.

Thanks you guys! See you on the beach!