We’re in the studio this morning. Jeremy is tuning his drums while Aaron sets up microphones and runs wires. Ben Jones is also on his laptop. I can’t see what he’s doing, but I’m guessing it’s something cool. We still miss Lindsey (in London) and Ben A. (Raleigh), but 4 out of 6 isn’t bad and later, the new guy Ross will drop in to play piano.

As for me, I’m sitting here at my (t)rusty old laptop, drinking coffee, reminiscing on the last three weeks in the UK and uploading the rest of the tracks for the live album. England was good. It felt like when you find an old shirt you haven’t worn in half-a-decade, but it still fits. You forgot about the hole under the sleeve and the stain near the collar, so those are new again, but it still fits. It was great to spend time with people I dearly love, and Heather got to come with me (!!) so it was even better. I miss England almost every day, but it’s nice to know it’s still there any time I can get back.

“Twenty Thousand Miles”.

By the time you read this, the new album will be available (here!). It’s weird to listen back to these – they were from the very first of last fall’s tour dates, in August and September. It’s interesting to hear how the songs have changed since then; flourishes added or dropped… I think things like asphalt and exhaustion are the proverbial water and sunlight for songs, you can practice as much as you want at home, but until they live on the road, they never bloom.

That said, I’m still really happy with this live album. You can hear the absolute silence of the living rooms, the unfazed chatter of a bar, the crickets of a backyard. I think it captures the experience, for better and worse. LIstening back to these, I am instantly exhausted, which I think is the mark of a good live recording – if it takes you back to that moment (in this case, exhaustion, or the frustration at the loss of my voice) then it’s a good live recording.

Bringing the conversation full-circle, the purpose of releasing this album is to raise money to pay for the studio time I’m using right now. I would just give it away otherwise. I thought about doing a kickstarter, but it just didn’t seem like the right time for that. Maybe later this year when I start work on the next album. For now, I’m hoping to sell enough of these that I can pay for the EP, then sell enough of the EP while I’m on the road to… well, you get it.

I hope this finds you well, wherever you are. I’m really behind on e-mails, but if you want me to come to your place for a house show, drop me a line. I’ll be back to working on booking all week next week. (booking(at)leviweaver(dot)com)

See you soon!

-Levi

P.S. I asked Ben what he was checking on his computer and it was painfully boring, so instead I’m telling you that he was inventing a new note – it’s halfway between the quarter-tone between C and C#, and it’s called C-Black-Icy. the sign is C^. it’s not discernibly different (from C) to most human ears, so we’re going to be making an album for dogs soon.

If you’re interested in hosting a show, please e-mail me: booking (at) leviweaver (dot) com

LEG ONE:
Th 3.8: Orlando, FL
Fr 3.9: Savannah, GA
Sa 3.10: Atlanta, GA
Su 3.11: Anniston / Birmingham / Tuscaloosa AL
Mo 3.12: Lafayette, LA
Tu 3.13: Houston, TX
We-Su 3.14-18: SXSW (Austin, TX)

LEG TWO:
Th 3.29: Dallas, TX
Fr 3.30: Roswell, NM
Sa 3.31: Phoenix, AZ
Su 4.1: Redlands, CA
Mo 4.2: Los Angeles, CA
Tu 4.3: Palmdale, CA
We 4.4: Newman, CA
Th 4.5: Visalia, CA
Fr 4.6: Fresno, CA
Sa 4.7: San Francisco, CA
Su 4.8: Reno, NV

LEG THREE:
We 4.18: Corvallis, OR
Th 4.19: Portland, OR
Fr 4.20: Seattle, WA
Sa 4.21: Spokane, WA
Su 4.22: Rexburg / Pocatello, ID
Mo 4.23: Salt Lake City, UT
Tu 4.24: (Western Colo / S. Utah)
We 4.25: Denver, CO
Th 4.26: Cheyenne, WY
Fr 4.27: Omaha, NE
Sa 4.28: Minneapolis, MN
Su 4.29: Chicago, IL

LEG FOUR:
Th 5.10: Chicago, IL
Fr 5.11: St. Louis, MO
Sa 5.12: Nashville, TN
Su 5.13: Indianapolis, IN
Mo 5.14: Columbus, OH
Tu 5.15: Detroit, MI
We 5.16: Toronto, ON
Th 5.17: Montreal, QC
Fr 5.18: Providence, RI / Boston, MA
Sa 5.19: Connecticut
Su 5.20: New York City

LEG FIVE:
Th 5.31: New York City
Fr 6.1: Philadelphia, PA
Sa 6.2: Paeonian Springs, VA
Su 6.3: Baltimore, MD
Mo 6.4: Norfolk, VA
Tu 6.5: Lynchburg, VA
We 6.6: Raleigh, NC
Th 6.7: Charlotte, NC
Fr 6.8: Savannah, GA
Sa 6.9: Atlanta, GA
Su 6.10: Nashville, TN

LEG SIX:
Th 6.21: New Orleans / Baton Rouge, LA
Fr 6.22: Lafayette, LA
Sa 6.23: Houston, TX
Su 6.24: Austin, TX
Mo 6.25: San Antonio, TX
Tu 6.26: Burleson, TX
We 6.27: Lubbock, TX
Th 6.28: Roswell, NM
Fr 6.29: Phoenix, AZ
Sa 6.30: Los Angeles, CA
Su 7.1: Visalia, CA

LEG SEVEN:
Fr 7.13: Fresno, CA
Sa 7.14: San Francisco, CA
Su 7.15: Reno, NV
Mo 7.16: Corvallis, OR
Tu 7.17: Portland, OR
We 7.18: Seattle, WA
Th 7.19: Spokane, WA
Fr 7.20: Idaho
Sa 7.21: Salt Lake City, UT
Su 7.22: Denver, CO
Mo 7.23: Omaha, NE
Tu 7.24: St. Louis, MO
We 7.25: Minneapolis, MN
Th 7.26: Chicago, IL
Fr 7.27: Columbus, OH
Sa 7.28: Pittsburgh, PA
Su 7.29: Philadelphia, PA

LEG EIGHT:
Th 8.8: Boston / Providence
Fr 8.9: New York City
Sa 8.10: Norfolk, VA
Su 8.11: Lynchburg, VA
Mo 8.12: Raleigh, NC
Tu 8.13: Charlotte, NC
We 8.14: Atlanta, GA
Th 8.15: Nashville, TN

A few years ago after a tour, I found myself in the shower at 11am, drinking. I was fully aware that it was not the sort of behavior that leads to anything good, but that was the only thing that made sense to do, given my state of mind.

I’ve done a few tours since, and have come to realize that what I was feeling was not permanent. Nor was it a one-time thing. I always feel this way when I get home. I’ve been less forthcoming with really personal information online lately, but I want to write this out. Maybe it will help someone else. Or maybe I can get some feedback on if I’m the only person that feels this way. Here’s a quick run-down of what PTWS looks like.

1. I have a massive to-do list, but every single one of the items looks impossible. You know, impossible things like “deposit checks” and “clean up the music room”. (There are also actual impossible things like “call the insurance company and sort out last year’s medical bills” and “catch up on three months’ worth of emails.) When I can’t pick one, I resort to playing a baseball game on my phone. Or Words with Friends. Or anything that doesn’t require any effort or engagement. At the end of the day, I’m further behind, so I’m a bit miffed at myself.

2. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Nothing personal, all you people I’ve talked to this week, but every interaction I have with anyone is because I know I have to, not because I want to.

3. I have absolutely paralyzing self-doubt about my choice in profession. About the future of this business in general, and my place in it. I fixate on all the worst possible scenarios, most of which involve me being unable to shake this, running off my family, (even though my wife is a champion and has never indicated anything but eternal and undying love.) and ending up a desperate old homeless man. It’s silly when I write it out and look at it. But that’s where my thoughts go.

4. I feel incapable of feeling any emotion except brief strong irritation at things like politics or not being able to find my keys or traffic. I don’t feel profound sadness or happiness or anything. Just quick bursts of near-rage. Everything else is pretty muted and behind a thick gray shield.

Fortunately, I know this is all temporary, and soon I’ll be back to my normal self. I haven’t been drinking in the shower. I’m not taking any drastic steps, or planning my grand “I quit” speech. I know I’ll be back soon. I’ll enjoy time with friends, and I’ll clean my music room, and I’ll be happy again. I have a trip to England coming up, and I kinda think that will do the trick. Heather is coming with me, which will help even more. I have more tour dates coming up in the Spring, and I’ll have to book those. I have some songs that I’m going to try to record before then. Having gone through it before is kind of an anchor now, reminding me that I’ve been here before, and it’s not a permanent thing.

Do any of you go through this? If so, what’s your trigger? Is there some specific thing you’ve noticed that causes it? And do you have any tricks for snapping out of it?

I only have a few:

1. Write 2 Blog entries a month. I feel like letting a blog die has been bad for my writing, all around.
2. Write 2 songs a month
3. Book / perform these tour dates (Which I will announce Monday)
4. A new release (EP? Full Length? We shall see how successful these 2 songs a month are)
5. An undetermined number of new music videos. (I have a plan, but don’t want to commit to it publicly yet.)

Those 5.

Here is the latest update on me coming to Europe. Many of the dates are either booked (or I believe will be booked within the next couple of days.) The rest? Open for business. If you live near one of the cities that is in bold print, and you have a house / church / bar / restaurant, and would like to host a show, shoot me an email: booking (at) leviweaver (dot) com and let’s make this work!

January 18: Bedford, England
January 19: London, England
January 20: Bristol, England
January 21: Birmingham, England
January 25: Belfast, Northern Ireland
January 26: Manchester, England
January 27: Evesham, England
January 28: Plymouth, England
January 29: Tetbury, England
January 30: Lisbon, Portugal
January 31: Tallinn, Estonia
February 1: Amsterdam? Berlin?
February 2: Brussels, Belgium
February 3: Paris, France
February 4: Rome, Italy

If you live close to one of these places in bold, and you think we can make a show work, let me know! I’ve really enjoyed the house shows here in the U.S. and I’d love to bring that experience over there.

See you soon!

-Levi

And while it’s an accurate sentiment, it’s incomplete. There is also a large sentiment of grateful humility that needs to be shared. So many people have opened their homes to me this year… the handful of travel companions I’ve had have all said the same thing to me after just a few days: “Man… you know some really great people.”

It’s true. I’m maybe the luckiest person I know in that regard. I know more great people than I can even list here. So many, in fact, that I feel a little guilty for not keeping in touch with each of you a little better. You deserve more than a passing invite to a show or a music video unveiling once in awhile. Know that I recognize that, and I wish I could sit and talk with each of you about what’s going on in your life. I know great people, and I know interesting people. And the Venn diagram on that looks like one big circle with just a couple of fuzzy edges on either side.

And that, more than anything, is the recap of the first three legs of this tour. I know a lot of great people, and I am incredibly grateful for all of you.

In lieu of trying to explain to you what this fall was like (I’d rather do that in person anyway), here are a few select photos from the road this fall. (note: these are all out of chronological order)

The view of Chicago from the rooftop of the AudioTree studios

This was an actual road sign just outside LaPorte, Indiana

A picture I was sent from home of Lincoln in a shirt I got him in New York City

I could have taken a hundred pictures like this between Phoenix and Lubbock. This one is somewhere near the NM/TX border.

This was between Lubbock and San Antonio. Thought about working out a trade…

A still shot from the “I am Certain I am a Train” music video shoot. This was taken in the mountains between Corvallis, OR and Reno, NV

On the drive back from Cannon Beach, we lucked into finding this old train yard, the owners of which were super cool and let us shoot on their circa-1901 meal car that they had in the back. The speedometer is from an old car, about the same era.

This is in the Chicago O’Hare airport. After staying up (literally) all night packing the old house full of boxes and moving them to the new place, *AND* listening to my Rangers lose Game 7 of the World Series, seeing this provided an inexplicable sense of hope about the upcoming 27-shows-in-26-days leg of the tour. It was probably sleep deprivation, but I appreciated it.

A police car pulled in behind me as soon as I got into New Mexico and followed me for about 20 minutes. Eventually, I just pulled over to see what his problem was. He passed, but as I looked in my rear-view mirror, I saw this.

This is the wall of a bar in Bisbee, AZ. I’m not sure how the holes got there, but I like to think it was an old west-style shootout.

This is the Pasadena City Hall. I saw it when I was having a brunch with my good friend Ben Ewen.

From the old Mission in San Francisco where we shot part of the “Good From Evil” music video (coming 2012?)

I saw some phenomenal sunsets on this tour. This one was between San Francisco and Visalia.

Here is another one. I honestly can’t remember where I took this.

Here is an old house in Montana, by a gas station. I like to wonder who used to live in places like this. The truth is probably far less fascinating than my imagination (because in my imagination it is a family of ghosts who still think it is 1929.)

I think this one was taken just outside Price, UT. 25 minutes later, I was driving through icy snow.

And then I got home to my family in Texas for Thanksgiving. This actually happened. I’m in the back of the pickup, and we’re doing about 7 miles per hour here.

Alright! One more leg to go. Dec 3-11… See you soon, Savannah, St. Petersburg, Orlando, Louisiana, Houston, Dallas, Burleson (TX), Ada (OK).

-Levi

1. http://www.squareup.com/ <- get one of these immediately. Before you even finish this e-mail. Do it now.

2. Make sure you get as many mailing list signups as possible. (I suggest using mailchimp.com as a mailing list manager.) That way, it’s easier to let them know when you are coming back. The whole point of touring is more touring. Impress the few & they’ll bring friends next time. But they have to know when you’re coming back.

3. Never ever ever ever say “this next song” when introducing a song. I noticed this about a year & change ago – freaking everysongwriter does it. it’s like the “ummmm” of stage banter. Avoid it, and it will force you to be more creative with your in-between-song stories, and thus more memorable. Be memorable.

4. Involve the audience if you can. We live in a facebook/twitter world. People expect to be part of the experience. That can look any number of ways, but the more they are involved, the more they will remember the night, which is paramount to Item #2

5. List of things to remember (AKA: Things It’s Embarrassing To Ask The Other Bands For) (AKA: Things Other Bands Will Ask You For)

- 9V batteries.
- extension cord / power strip
- spare strings
- spare 1/4″ cables
- spare picks
- a “bank” of (at least 20) $1 Bills for your merch table so you always have change.

6. Budget
- Figure out your miles (maps.google.com +15%) and know how much it’s going to cost you in gas. Estimate $4/gallon for gas (as of 9/2011). You should be able to stay under this, but give it to yourself as a cushion. (side note: try to never fill up in New York or Canada. Fill up before you cross the state line / border.)

- give yourself $20/person/day for food. Again: You should be able to stay under this, but give it to yourself as a cushion.

- Figure out where you are sleeping before you leave. Unless you are cool with sleeping in your car in the winter (you are not cool with this, I promise.) I couch-surf all the time, it saves SO much on hotels. But figure it out beforehand.

- $0.028/mile for Oil Changes.

- Add up the cost of printing merch and divide it by the number of shows.

Now you know exactly how much it’s going to cost you to play this tour. If you impress, you can probably expect to sell about $1 worth of merch for every person in attendance. In venues, it’s significantly less. House shows and church shows, it’s a little more. If you’re playing a solid mix of these, plan for $1.

7. It will usually take you an hour longer than Google maps says it will. (for a 5-hour drive, so… 20%) Plan on getting there 4 hours early if you can. If you’re early, you can hit a coffee shop and catch up on e-mails. Try to avoid driving anywhere in/near any city between 3-6pm.

8. Get sleep. It’s tempting to stay out late and hang out, but be reasonable about it. If you have to get up early the next day, don’t be out too terribly late. The people the next day deserve to see you at your best just as much as tonight’s people deserve to hang out with you. Don’t just leave from the stage and go home; always hang out with SOMEone (Make friends! I cannot stress this enough) just be reasonable about it. (I am not good at following this advice) Also, this will not be *quite* as important on a 4-6 show tour, but generally speaking…

9. V-8.
Tour eating is difficult. I realized last Thursday that I hadn’t eaten a single vegetable in a week. Fortunately, I’d been drinking at least 1 (usually 2) V-8s every day. You can get them at any gas station, and they have a full day’s worth of vegetables in them. Even if you don’t like the taste, consider it preventative medicine.

10. It’s hard to reply to messages / facebook / twitter from the road, especially if you are the one driving. But get back to everyone that you possibly can on the day when you get back (or the next couple of days after.) It’s part of our job, and it’s good for three reasons:

- it keeps you grounded, reminds you that each of the people that wrote you took time out of their day to do so.
- it keeps you in touch with all the new friends you’ve made
- from a business perspective, it makes you a lot more likely to be able to book a show in that city in the future.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten a lot, but there are the first ten that popped into my head.

Best of luck.

-Levi

I’m fortunate enough to have Aaron Dethrage on the road with me for the first leg of this tour, and he’s recording each night’s set. The way I’m “paying” him is that each day (or at least each day that I actually have a voice) he will upload one live track from the previous night’s performance. We’re keeping a corresponding tour blog to go with it, which will replace this one for the rest of the month. I’ll start blogging here again once he has to go back to Nashville and I trade one Aaron (Dethrage) for another (Long.)

Blog: http://leviweaverlive.tumblr.com
Tracks: http://leviweaverlive.bandcamp.com

This week, since I’ve had Bob Dylan voice, we’re releasing two previously unreleased acoustic studio tracks we did a couple of months ago. The first is a cover of “The Weight of Lies” by the Avett Brothers, and the second is a performance of “Good from Evil” that I did with Lindsey Thompson; I added a half-cover of Damien Rice’s “Cold Water” to the bridge.

(both of those will be uploaded this afternoon).

You can see when I’m going to be in your city here: http://www.leviweaver.com/tour – if you live the U.S., there is a good likelihood I’ll be within a short drive of you.

-Levi

A. I CAN’T AFFORD A HOUSE SHOW!

There is no reason (allow me to repeat that. In bold. There is no reason) that any money should come out of your pocket if you’re hosting a house show. In fact, you could make a little cash on it. Let me explain…
I’ve said I need to make $200/show to break even, which is true. But that $200 includes merch sales. So let’s add it up: if we can get 20 people to show up and donate between $5 and $10 each (let’s say an average of $7.50) We’ve got $150 before I sell a single bit of merch. 1 shirt and 3 CDs, and we’re there. And not a penny of it has come from your pocket (Unless you bought the T-Shirt. I’ll give you a CD for hosting.)

Additionally, I’m also offering an incentive package… Once I hit $200, you get to keep 25% of any door money that comes in over that. So let’s say I have a great night and sell $200 in merch: you keep 25% of ALL of the donations (or “door”), as my “thank you” for hosting.

B. I DON’T HAVE SPACE!

That may be true (especially in New York City). But house shows don’t have to be held at a house. I’ve played barns, churches, pizza restaurants, flatbed trailers, back porches, parks, school commons areas, cafeterias, hookah lounges, and I wouldn’t rule out nursing homes, daycare centers, abandoned trains, barbershops, or rooftops. Basically — if we can get electricity there to keep my loop pedals and speaker running, I can make it work. (I’ve even played sans loops when the electricity went out.) So between your friends, parents, co-workers, etc. I believe there’s probably someplace we could make a show happen. We just have to be creative.

C. I DON’T WANT A BUNCH OF STRANGERS IN MY HOUSE / WHAT IF THERE ARE TOO MANY PEOPLE?

This is a valid concern. I gave it a lot of thought when I started doing this, and I think I have a pretty elegant solution: It’s your house, and you are the ticket office. So when a show is booked, I never put an address of a house on my site; instead, I put an e-mail address (of your choosing), and people RSVP directly to you via e-mail. You set the number you’re comfortable with (though I try to make that a minimum of 20). Once you hit that number of RSVPs, we’re “sold out”! Anyone else that e-mails, you can put them on a waiting list (in case someone else drops off.) If you start to get 15, 20, 25 on that waiting list, then we know we’ve got a big enough crowd to go to a venue. There are a lot of venues that would be happy with a pre-RSVP of 45-50 people, even on short notice.

D.) IT’S A SCHOOL NIGHT, I CAN’T BE UP ALL NIGHT WITH A CONCERT.

This is the beauty of house shows. We can start at 6pm and be done by 8 if you want. Or if it’s a weekend, we can start at 9 if your friends are night owls. We can start at 7:21 if that’s what you want. Your house, your rules. And in my experience, people are usually pretty appreciative that you hosted, so they are willing to pitch in and help clean up.

E.) BONUS: NOT A MYTH, JUST SOME SIDE NOTES ON WHY HOUSE SHOWS ARE COOLER THAN VENUE SHOWS (I THINK.)

Venue Show: You pay for parking. You pay at the door. You pay for drinks.
House Show: You bring what drinks you want. You donate what you want at the door.

Venue Show: You go with your friends, you leave with your friends.
House Show: You meet people who live in your neighborhood who you have something in common with! New Friends!

Venue Show: Dark, often smells like rock and roll, sticky floors, no toilet paper
House Show: Toilet Paper!

Venue Show: Hope you get to talk to the acts for a couple of minutes at the merch table afterwards (I always feel so rushed, from an artist’s perspective)
House Show: Dinner before, then the show, then hangout. Breakfast the next morning! Conversation! New Friends!

So there you go. If you have twenty friends (check your Facebook. You do.), you can definitely “afford” a house show.

Now go on over to the tour page and see what’s not booked. Let’s hang out!

I have 81 shows to book this fall, and less than half of them are booked. I have to renew my passport and get the A/C in my car fixed and send out some sorely overdue subscription packages and record a vocal track, and…  There is a list of 141 things that have to be done between May 1st and August 28th. 55 of them are done and 86 of them are still left.

I’m not complaining, but I just wanted to paint a picture of where I stand. I’m harried. As Booger from Revenge of the Nerds might wear on a shirt, “I’m High on Stress”.

I’m listening to my new playlist on Spotify, “Albums I Need To Listen To”. And I hear, in a voice reminiscent of Ray Lamontagne, but purer:

“Golden, Golden, Golden river run
To the east and drop beneath the sun
And as the moon lies low and overhead
We’re lost…”

I stopped, I rolled my chair back halfway across the room, and I closed my eyes.

It was like James Vincent McMorrow was the voice of God, telling me to stop worrying. Stop letting my stomach twist in knots. You do this job because you love it, not because someone is telling you that your family will die if you don’t. No one’s life is riding on this.

Life is beautiful. Take a breath. Listen to this album. It was created for you, for all of you. Do your job because you take great joy in it, and you’re lucky to have this job.

“once i had a dream
once i had a hope
that was yesterday
not so long ago
this is not the end
this is just the world…”

The lyrics aren’t “feel good”. But the album is. Even in its melancholy yearning for that hope we’re all grasping at.

Go listen now.

www.jamesvmcmorrow.com