Hello, friends! Rob here.
Another thrilling weekend at The G Compound in Pensacola! This weekend was a triple-header, so we were pretty exhausted by the end of it, but good heavens, what a crazy time! Two overarching themes at the shows this weekend were profuse sweating and people over the age of forty grinding on each other provocatively. Zack’s dad, Glen, who is a pretty rad dude, was in Pensacola for the majority of the weekend, and pretty much everybody likes him so that was nice. Friday night, our friends in Flowtribe were playing across the street at the Sandshaker Lounge, so Mike “Michaelphone” Girardot and I braved the traffic with horns in hand to say hello and sit in during one of our set breaks, which was also nice.
Saturday was the Forty-Seventh Annual (that part’s a guess) Bushwacker Festival all along the boardwalk, so, in addition to the typical assortment of regulars, there were hordes of people who had come out to celebrate Pensacola’s most famous frozen libation. Phrases like “packed,” en masse, “out in droves,” “multitudinous,” and, my personal favorite, “a butt-ton,” do little to describe the sheer number of people who were out on Saturday night. Things got quite rightly out of control.
Sunday was good, but maybe a little laid back after the bedlam of the previous evenings. Our good friends Dave and Kitt brought some mimosas in for us, so we turned the afternoon show into a pleasant late brunch scene, but also with really loud rock and roll music.
This week, we’ve been tightening up with Mississippi Rail company’s Sam Shahin for our (free!) Friday show at Tipitina’s and upcoming South Florida run. He played a few sets with us this past weekend, and, well, boy got some fire. Due to scheduling conflicts, Andrew and I will both be on different continents next week while the band tours the Florida Keys, so we have to make sure everyone won’t languish in our absence. Fortunately, in addition to Sam filling in on drums, the band will have Mike rounding it out on trumpet and keys, so at least there’ll be someone to represent horns, beautiful, beautiful horns.
Since I will be experiencing the thrills of intercontinental travel and the sheer decadence of 20-hour economy-class flights next week, this will likely be the last Blog Wednesday for a week or two. Sorry, but this blogwriting gig doesn’t exactly pay well enough that I’d be willing to schlep halfway around the world just to sit indoors and type words about a band, so you guys are going to have to get by without me for a little while.
Trust me, you’ll be fine.
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