Dudley Taft - Guitar, vocals
John Kessler - Bass, vocals
Carl Martin - Drums
Europe has a smell : Diesel, tobacco and cologne. At 2am , when we finish loading all the gear and merch into the van, that's what it smells like. A small price to pay for daily adventures in foreign countries. Plus they have amazing pastries everywhere, even at highway gas stations, where we stop two or three times a day sometimes. There was a lot of driving on this tour. And the van smelled like Chanel Blue. (Dudley!)
Dudley flies in a day ahead of Carl & John and goes through Cologne, Germany to pick up guitar amps from Ralf at Tonehunter Amps, a boutique custom amp shop that lends him guitar amps. This year, Ralf had a new amp in the lineup: the "Keef", an amp made to emulate the killer tones of the tweed Fenders of the 1960's. THIS AMP SOUNDS KILLER.

Ralf from Tonehunter

Carl & John fly in to Amsterdam from Seattle and take a train about 160 clicks (another cool thing about Europe is that you get to say "clicks") to Almelo in Eastern Netherlands where we meet up with Dudley. Our good friend Anko picks up C & J at the Almelo train station in his official fire chief car, and we gather at Anko and Helga's in Vriezenveen to rehearse.

Dudley and Fire Chief Anko Lammers
Besides becoming really good friends, Anko and Helga have a perfect set-up for us with a separate garage with rehearsal space below and three beds and a bathroom upstairs. Anko used to drum in a heavy metal band, but now the same guys play acoustic Irish music. The shows start Friday night at The Machinist in Oss, NE, a tiny joint where people really get into the music. We have been here once before and both times had great crowds. Later we learn that it's known as a really rough biker bar. Sometimes better not to know these things... Next a short drive to another return engagement at Bij Absolut in Sint Michielsgestel. Don't even try to pronounce it. After 2 years, we are not even close to pronouncing it right. The Dutch are unfailingly patient with our bad pronunciation, as they have heard people mispronounce their language for centuries. Even a simple name like "Oss" can get you in trouble (go figure). Of course they all speak perfect English, and likely another language or two.

An early Sunday gig at Café de Weegbrug in Roermond, southern part of the country squeezed between Belgium and Germany. The club is run by Truus, a legendary Blues Mama who has run the place for 15 years and has had a lot of major blues artists play there over the years, the walls covered with their posters, and the stage lined with their signatures. About 20 people attend, but they stay for the whole show and are very enthusiastic. We stay up late at the bar with the Truus and her daughter and Rene the bartender. Her dog constantly barks at us, as we go back and forth to our rooms, on the third floor. Truus lives on the second floor with her dog. The accommodations are "spare", but the hospitality is warm, and by the time we leave Truus has fed us a large breakfast of eggs and bacon.






We also visit with our pal Bernd and his wife, Veronica and their 3 month old Golden Lab puppy, who goes to dinner with us. Dinner is a local specialty called Yong Schollen, fried young flounder. The next day they take us to the coast where we dip our toes in the North Sea.

Then it's a 7 hour trip to the next show, with a day to get there, so we spend the night in Frankfurt, and do some shopping and general milling about. Looks like the Hammering Man from the Seattle Art Museum made a trip?

After a cool drive down the autobahn lined with castles in the hills, we landed on Friday night at Die Halle in Reichenbach an der Fils in southern Germany, a large club out in the country-side with great staff and sound people. It was a good night, and we made some friends who drove from Austria to see the show.



