Dispatches: The Flatliners (Episode 1)
Tonight's Dispatch is the first from Toronto's The Flatliners who recently took off through Europe with Less Than Jake. The band's Chris Cresswell checks on.
You can click Read More for the dispatch.
Greetings to all from a tricked-out Sprinter cutting through the night in
France. The Sprinter belongs to our friend Ed the Duck, a fine gentleman
from Norwich who takes very good care of us on this side of the Atlantic
and otherwise. The Weatherthans are playing loud in the background, and
I'm holding two kinds of bottles somehow while I type this. Life is good
and plentiful. The fact that we're back in Europe right now playing the
songs we wrote in our bedrooms blows my mind. We've managed to endure a
ridiculous (read: epic) trek in between our blast of a US tour with Less
Than Jake, our first ever and incredibly memorable trip to Japan, and our
raping of a steering wheel (AKA very long drive) back home to Toronto from
San Francisco. And now we're here. A gigantic cheers goes out to NOFX for
having us out with them in Europe. Head exploding gigantic cheers.
This passed weekend we experienced the magic of Groezrock for the second
year in a row. This festival in Belgium stands as the best day of the year
for our band, two years in a row. Quick recap: A proper Catch 22 reunion
the night before we play @ Groezrock which was so beautiful one could shed
a proverbial tear for sure. We miss our friends PO Box play by literally
15 minutes - which was a severe bummer. Paul and I drunkenly argue for a
while in the van about potentially lost van keys while everyone tries to
sleep. The keys are found the next morning, so we're OK. We wake up too
early the next morning and load up a ramp on stage directly afterward.
Too, too early. We eat breakfast and get ready to play even before midday.
The Groezrock crowd shows us even more love than last year, which is a
tough regiment if you ask me. We spend the rest of our glorious Belgian
day reuniting with our friends in This Is A Standoff, Outbreak, Rentokill,
Comeback Kid, and Misery Signals, watching The Vandals and The Get Up
Kids, being stoked to spend some time with dudes from Bane and The Unseen,
smoking kids at Singstar (Paul Ramirez ladies and gentlemen), and drinking
lots and lots. My night ended with Scott and the aforementioned Ed the
Duck at a Chinese food restaurant across the street from our small, every
hotel, having a drink while the owner's children desperately wanted to go
to sleep. We got the hint and made quick work. Belgium, oh Belgium!
We made a stop in Germany to play a BMX competition with NOFX the next day
after Groezrock. The show was fun. I passed out in shotgun sometime
afterwards, as its legal to drink Whiskey and Coke's on overnight (or
"anytime") drives. I most likely drooled all over my makeshift Rocket From
the Crypt euro-pillow. Euro-pillows are either much larger or
substantially smaller than pillows I'm used to, being a pasty Canadian. I
find that interesting, and yes… even humorous.
Since we've been back in France and lucky enough to play the amazing shows
we have been with NOFX, I've learned that the shows are all amazing and
fucking hot, sitting on a dude wearing a wife-beater who is sitting on the
stage while you're playing will most likely result in you and your guitar
covered in beer, and that French folks certainly know how to smoke
cigarettes and have a good time. We slept on the beach the night before
our show in Toulouse, bringing us as close as we ever may get to Africa.
That's pretty fucking cool. We've been spending more days than not working
on new songs on a mini-acoustic guitar Jon found when cleaning out a
stranger's apartment one day. Garbage really can be treasure, because when
I'm away from that guitar I feel like I shouldn't play any other in
existence. Pathetic? A definite possibility ladies and gentlemen. A
definite one.
Quote of the tour so far:
"I hate those hippie jugglers!" -Ed the Duck
Perhaps I should retire for the night so I can wake up in Paris tomorrow
feeling ready for life rather than hungover and miserable. We all
appreciate you wasting a small part of your life reading about ours.