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Rocking The Eastern Seaboard
Posted on 1st June 2009


It is Monday and I am still coming down from a weekend of rocking like a storm system characterized by a large low-pressure center and numerous thunderstorms that produce strong winds and heavy rain (which is to say a hurricane) as part of the Walter Schreifels solo band. On Friday night, we played at the Khyber in Philadelphia, which is a can-do town. I have played at the Khyber a number of times in various bands over the years and I really dig the place. It’s fun for rock purposes and they also have a great beer selection for hammering purposes after the show. I did both to the best of abilities.

Sammy Hagar’s new supergroup Chickenfoot, which also features Joe Satriani, Chad Smith from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Michael Anthony from Van Halen, was playing in Philly the same night. We still managed to get a good crowd at the Khyber despite the fact that “I Can’t Drive 55” was being played just a few blocks away. And in a weird twist of fate, I called my friend Preston, who lives in Philly, to see if he was going to come to our show and he had to hang up the phone quickly because he was driving Sammy Hagar somewhere. Hey- you got Hagar riding shotgun, you hang up the damn phone. Anyway, that’s the closest I’ve come to Hagar since waiting unsuccessfully in the Beachwood, Ohio Marriott to meet Eddie Van Halen after a Van Hagar concert back in the ‘80s and Sammy strolled through the lobby. Being a staunch Roth supporter, I remained seated. Over the years, I’ve softened over Hagar though. I am still not a fan of his music really, but I do respect how he fully embrace his Hagarness. I just can’t stay mad at him.

Before the Khyber show, Walter, Arthur, Andy, Andy’s buddies, and I went for a stroll around town to see the sights and look at the people waiting in line for the Chickenfoot concert. Our research indicates that incidences of goatees are higher in Sammy Hagar fan circles than they are in the non-Hagar population. Further findings will be revealed in the near future. Stay tuned.

We also passed this old bar called A Man Full of Trouble. Apparently it’s where sweet dudes with a lot of small animals in their possession used to party in olden times. Since then I believe most Philadelphia bars have adopted a “No Monkey” policy. Say what you want, but things were just more fun back in the 1700s.

Despite the absence of monkeys or wildife of any sort, the Khyber show was a lot of fun and our first time playing together live. Walter is playing hits from his whole career at these shows, so the set list is a great mix of his new solo stuff and older stuff from Gorilla Biscuits, Quicksand, Rival Schools, and Walking Concert. As a huge fan of his music, it’s a blast to be playing this stuff with him and the rest of the band.

After the Khyber show, I drank some stuff with my brother-in-law and some friends and then cabbed it back to his and my sister’s house nearby. At around 5am, I woke up completely naked in their guest bedroom. I’m still looking for answers on that one. I decided not to bring it up at brunch.

Last night, we rocked Great Scott in Boston. That’s a photo above of the stage right before we went on. Walter picked up those big banners of that Mexican guy (he is a well-known Mexican guy, but I can’t remember his name at the moment) in Mexico and we have been hanging them onstage for dramatic effect. We were in a cab on Friday and without thinking I asked Walter if he remembered to bring the two Mexicans and right after I said it realized that our driver appeared to be quite possibly Mexican and maybe thought we were up to something strange. Oops.

During the first song last night, the Mexican guy in front of my amp fell over, leaving my side of the stage largely Mexicanless for most of the show. We tried to fix him during Walter’s acoustic set, but the Mexican guy wasn’t having it. It turned out to be a really fun show anyway.

After the show, we drank a bunch of stuff, which is just how it goes sometimes when you lead the rock-n-roll lifestyle. At the end of the night, I took a cab out to my sister’s place in the suburbs of Boston and fell asleep and/or passed out as the driver tried to track down my sister’s house using my sketchy directions. $50 later, he dumped me off in her driveway. I woke up earlyish this morning to hang out with my sister, meet my newborn niece, and play with my three year-old nephew, who admittedly had the edge on me as he hadn’t had nearly as much Jameson as me the night before. I think we will both end up taking a nap today though.

Dave Hill

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