And now, the final last few days of our US tour where we get a bit touristy. For previous sections see here (part 5)

Day...err...whatever it was...

After playing their hearts out at The Crossroads and waking up on The Rock river, it was time fo turn in our gear, our van, masks and capes and become...Tourists..

MY GPS correctly identified that there was a river in front.

Ok, lets head for town and drop of the gear

Did someone say we should stop for breakfast in Byron?

They'd supported the previous days gig

We've been back a week, and man I miss these American breakfasts.

Once more to the Tolls Roads, my friends. I am starting to wonder if Macquarie Bank has a Chicago Office. All these toll roadss...hmm

Our first stop was back at Studio Instrument Rentals (SIR)

SIR rocks.

the gear was brilliant and worked flawlessly.

These big ass road cases were quite a task in moving in and around but some solid protection for awesome gear.

Thanks Cesar.

Feeling strangely naked, we returned the drums to West Side Music exchange. It was like turning in your six guns...

We had organised to do a mini Ferris Buellers Day off whilst we were in Chicago, so we headed for Navy Pier and and an architectural cruise.

I spotted this inside the mall at the pier :-) Must have known we were coming

The boys were a little suspect about doing this cruise but with a simply stunning clear blue skied day, we headed out on a lake so vast that it calls to the ocean.

Being from a Harbour town like Sydney it was something I did not expect.

The great lake is so freaking huge it fills the horizon.

At the walls of the Emerald City, the wizards there have locked away the river that joins the great lake. The Chicago river (aptly named) runs counter to nature, against gravity and through Chicago towards Gary Indiana. there's a whole explanation for that to do with flushing out the city during it's early meat packing days, but I settled for looking at the pretty pictures.

Chicago, in many ways, echoed Sydney's crumbling stone edifices, 1930's sigils and signs. For a lot of folks who think of the US as LA and NY (apols for the TLA's)

Chicago truly is the beating heart of the country, right bang slap in the middle of the middle.

The wonderful emerald city of the mid west..

BTW if you're there, do the cruise.

With dinner reservations we struck for a photo opp at the Bean

Before plunging back into Downtown towards Dues for Deep Dish

We'd opted for a celebratory end of tour dinner at a Chicago Landmark establishment, Due's (doo-ay, as it 2, not as in Doo or Dew)

Ok so there was a lot of build up about Chicago Deep Dish and Pizza Pie. We had to order ours by phone before we even arrived at the restaurant.

The crust is like a short crust pastry and the tomato is above the cheese.

ABOVE THE CHEESE!!! Has the world gone mad?

Sydney can hold its own in Pizza Land, our Italians are twice as opinionated as your Italians, use twice as many hand gestures and are way crazier on account of the fact that they're all sleep deprived because they have to stay up until 3am to watch soccer.

I'm willing to revisit the deep dish but right now it scores a resounding 'meh'.

So with our celebratory dinner complete we contemplated a quiet night in or..

We went in to catch some Blues with Big Time Sarah at Blue Chicago

SOAPBOX ALERT! WOOT WOOT! SOAPBOX ALERT!!

Ok, so she did standards I have heard in every blues bar from Bangkok to Hawaii, sure the house band traded on Guitar Frippery for endless aeons of time chewing noodling.

I think we have us Muso's have some work to do on inspiring the audience but that's a rant for another time.

Whilst the music was happening, a stream of passersby stopped, walked in and started to check out the music.

Our laconic doorman had shrunk his perimeter now to inside the club. People would walk up, receive a lazy hand preventing them from going further, be told there was an eight dollar cover charge and then....leave!

With the music blaring, I couldn't hear the conversation, but I could see the body language play out each time.

One of the two passers by (and they were usually in groups of a few, such as socials animals we tend), one foot would go onto tippy toe, the other foot would turn, someone would make a polite apology and they'd bail out.

I must have seen $2-300 worth of cover charge turn away.

Why? 

When they entered they didn't expect to pay and when realising that they'd have to, decided it just wasn't really worth it.

The bar was now too full, the music wasn't that good, there was something else up the street.

Strangely enough these reasons didn't seem to exist BEFORE they found  out the cover charge.

Now in Sydney, we play a lot of shows as the 'entertainment' band. We're lucky that we get away with playing our own music. Most of the times in pubs what they want are human jukeboxes that patrons can sing along with.

And that's fair enough.

Looking at it from the point of view of the average dude In the Street looking to while away his after work hours, the short answer is:

you have to be the good time that the punter is looking for.

Now theres a marketing answer to the problem posed above; a big sign saying cover charge on the door, the outside wall. Stops punters who are just tire kicking from coming in.

Seeing a stream of people u-turning at the front of my gig would bum me out, I'd work on that.

I think that suggests a mindset of our current times where musicianship has a batshit crazy valuation system - we'll pay $150 (or more) for a mainstream big scale act to entertain us for 90 minutes, yet  wont pay $8 to see a local legend with 30 years on the ground experience singing street Blues in Chicago entertaining us all night. Add $20 for enough beer to make you need a cab ride home.

There's a lot to unpack in this issue, I'll save it for my future tract on marketing (available as an ebook for only $22) 

but I'll say...

$8. 

I know times are tough but jeez louise. 8 lousy bucks.

Big Time Sarah asked me why didn't each one of us buy her CD, she sure could use the money.

Rant over.

Thanks for the music BTS, I bought a CD.

Rant Over

Bye Bye Van

Yep, finally we had to return Old Green, she'd served us well. She needed a bath so we took her to Berts

For the Ladies!

Street art on poles in Chicago

That night it was our turn to cook a thank you dinner for Paul, Mo and the Girls.

I opted for a good old fashioned Australian classic.

Greek Lamb.

Crikey Lambs exxy ($$$) overt there!

Cheers to My Mary for Sous Cheffing :-)

BTW it was AWESOME. Once again, we earn our reputation as the hardest living, Michelin Hatted, travelling band. Sacre Bleu! Where is zee haloumi?

The Last Nosher

That was it, flight out that night, but there was still one last breakfast in America.

The bread was pre-buttered, which confused Rosie no end. He ordered additional butter three times before catching on. they just thought he was crazy for cow.

Big tip for us Muso travelers - Excess Baggage is a huge cost on the return flight, watch out you won't get caught unawares and have to leave your Bass player behind as payment.

After a long, tedious and uncomfortable flight back home, we emerged into a smiling Harbour city.

She knew we were back.

The last gig of the tour was the following evening, and despite the jetlag the boys delivered an outstanding performance. I was so mentally drained I forgot to take my phone so no pics, but Mr Wizard will post some.

Shout outs to Fran, John, Steve and all the folk from the Royal in Bondi who made us feel like we'd never left :-)

So that just about wraps up our tour blog, thanks for reading along.

The only thing left will be so send out some additional thanks, but I'm still shagged out and will save that for another post!

MJEB