News.

01.29.12 : Life on the Ocean

We spent the past couple nights at Joe from Dinner And A Suit’s parents’ house, in the band’s hometown (outside Philadelphia). The house is big and inviting, with billowing white curtains on the circular front porch and an old stone walkway leading through a garden to the front screen door that creaks as it opens to a beautiful home filled with color, artwork, food, dogs, and family photographs. I felt instantly at home, an old worn-out piano being the first thing I saw in the foyer.

I always love getting to see people’s homes and meet their families on tour. Every house is different, every family is unique and interesting in their own way, and they each have a different approach to building a home. I’ve struggled with my idea and definition of “family” and “home” the past couple years, so getting to tour and experience other people’s families and homes has been very therapeutic and inspiring for me.

Last night’s show was in the attic of a big craftsmen style house belonging to a photographer/artist couple and their seven children (longtime family friends of Dinner And A Suit). They built and designed this house themselves, together as a family. Every wall and bookshelf and decoration in the house looked like it had been planned and placed with the utmost care and consideration. We played on the top floor of the house, a small attic-style space with slanted ceilings, turned into a cozy hangout with candles and old books and photographs and trinkets everywhere.

The room filled up quickly with friends and family. The first band, Wildebeast, is a group of guys who have been friends with Dinner And A Suit for many years. They were incredible and could easily tour and sell albums and get recognition for their music, but they have yet to even record their songs. I played second and was welcomed with kind applause and encouragement from a packed, tiny room. I was happy to see a few familiar faces who had driven an hour to see the show, making me feel like I too had family in the room. Dinner And A Suit played last and put on a beautiful performance while their proud parents sang along in the back, eyes closed, moved by the music. The ambience, the warmth in the attic with the occasional cold breeze coming through the open windows, the soft light from the candles, and the general feeling of love and camaraderie made the whole thing feel like a dream.

Today we hit the road again, and needless to say I was very sad to say goodbye to this place! I am so grateful to the Beretta family for opening their home to me, and to the Capeci and Genca families for their kindness. It’s easy to see where Dinner And A Suit get their creative, gentle spirits from.

Sometimes I feel like a lone sailor, constantly drifting in a ramshackle vessel that I fashioned together out of scraps, to the best of my ability given the tools I could find. Occasionally I come across a harbor filled with beautiful ships, and a marina where I am welcomed in for a warm meal and a soft bed. I can never stay as long as I would like, but while I’m there I get a glimpse of what life on solid ground could be like, and I leave with new ideas for how to build a better boat.

01.25.12 : The Science Experiment

Sometimes it’s hard to tell if something is working or not. With things like computers and cars, it’s quite obvious when something is broken, and it’s quite obvious whether or not what you’re doing to make it work is, in fact, working. But when it comes to something as subjective as writing and recording your own music and touring to make a living, it can be very difficult to figure out whether or not what you’re doing to make it work is, in fact, working.

A tour can be successful because you’ve managed to book a show for every date and have no days off. A tour can be successful because you have a couch to sleep on for free every night, and you never have to pay for food. A tour can be successful because you brought ticket-buying friends and fans out to the show in every city. A tour can be successful because you met some great bands who share your values and want to play shows again with you in the future. A tour can be successful because you left a good impression on the promoter and venue staff at every show. A tour can be successful because you made enough money each night to pay for gas and expenses, and managed to come home with a little bit of money in your pocket. A tour can be successful because you put on the best show you possibly could, every night, and your music affected people and earned new fans in every city. A tour can be successful because you are reminded each night of why you love to play music, why you feel the need to share your music with other people, and why you are okay with the sacrifices you have made in order to live your life in a way that allows you to do so. Ideally, your tour will achieve all of these things.

When I go on tour, I’m constantly trying to determine if what the tour is offering at each show is worth the time, energy, and money that ticket-buyers, promoters, venues, and other bands have put into making that show happen. I ask everyone what they think about the show, the bands on the bill, the venue, ticket price, promotion, and performances. I somehow combine everyone’s feedback with my own thoughts and feelings about the show, and then I check that against the excel grid I have on my computer with a running total of expenses vs. revenue. It’s like one big science experiment.

I can’t say that I know for sure whether or not what I’m doing to make G,NA work is, in fact, working. And I won’t know in what way(s) the tour was successful until I get back home. But so far, according to my scientific calculations, I can honestly say that this tour with Dinner And A Suit offers more value than any tour I’ve done so far as Gardening, Not Architecture. I’m proud of the tour as a whole, from the quality of music and performance to the quality of the human beings who are on the tour. The bands, promoters and venues have all been amazing to work with, and the people who have come out to support us are proof that something in what we are doing must be good — because only something good could attract such high-quality individuals.

Thank you to Richmond: The Camel, Breton, Nathan, Tribe Of Soul, Emma, Brett, James, Jason, and all our new friends there.

Thank you to Baltimore: Ottobar, Craig, Cindy, Rob, MusicBox Productions, Boy In The Well,  Survival Society, The Baby Grand, Ben, and all our new friends there.

Thank you to the Beretta family.

Thank you to Rockville Centre: The Vibe Lounge, Anthony, Dan, Travis, Sean, Club Loaded, Signal For Pilot, Family Lumber, Liars Etc, Giovanni, and all our new friends there.

Thank you to Alex Mohler.

And of course, thank you to Adam Kreeft of Kreeft Booking.

All of you have helped us get to Danbury, CT, today with gas in the tank and food in our bellies, and the feeling that there is a good reason for us to be doing what we’re doing!

Love,
Sarah

01.22.12 : Back on the road…

Tonight is the first show of my tour with Dinner And A Suit, a band from Nashville (originally from Philadelphia) whom I met on the 2010 Vans Warped Tour. They are a great group of guys, and solid musicians to boot. I love their music and I can’t wait to hear their songs every night for the next couple weeks! They’ll be helping me pull off my live set each night, as well. I can’t tell you how good it feels to be playing with a full band again.

I put the last of my money in the gas tank today somewhere near Roanoke, VA. Depending on how things go in the next two weeks, this may be my last G,NA tour for a while. However, it will definitely not be my last time playing with a full band; after this past week of rehearsals, I’ve realized how much I want (and need) to add live players to G,NA’s live show. So, regardless of how long I stay off the road, I will definitely be focusing on putting together a band somewhere in the southeast, and I’ll be playing locally and regionally until I can afford to get back out on a longer tour.

I’m so grateful to DAAS for doing this tour with me. I see great things for them in the future, and I’m honored that I get to tour with them at this early stage in their career. Check out their music on Facebook!

Their full-time drummer, JD, couldn’t do the tour with us because of school, but luckily the drummer who did DAAS’s last tour with them was available for this run, and he’s been killing it on my songs this past week. He’s currently listening to the songs in the back seat in preparation for tonight’s show. Meet Jeremiah:

More updates to come from the road this time around, for sure. There’s a lot of stuff on my mind.

Come to a show if you can: facebook.com/gnadaas

Love,
Sarah

11.30.11 : Dear Patterson,

We needed that.

Love,
The Migration Tour

(Full update tomorrow.)

11.29.11 : All You Can Do

The beauty of touring at this level is that you can never totally prepare for anything specific to happen. You never know who is actually going to attend the show, regardless of the numbers or names on the Facebook Event page. You never know if the club is going to lie about how much they made at the door and refuse to pay you. You never know if a promoter has actually done any promotion, hung any posters, or put any advertising toward the show until you arrive. You never know if the local headliner is going to drop off the bill the day before the show, or if the venue you’re playing is run by a restaurant, a sleezy promoter, or a hippie commune. You never know if you’re going to meet old friends for the first time in real life, or new friends who will become part of the rest of your life. You never know if you’re going to sell zero merch to a room full of people, or $50 in merch to the five people at the show. You never know if you’re going to end up at a table in Denny’s with four strangers, cracking jokes and talking about how all the trees in town were imported here 100 years ago. There’s just no way that you can ever prepare yourself, entirely, for what happens each day on tours like this. All you can do is wake up, have some coffee and breakfast with last night’s couch providers, and hit the road with some tunes and a sense of humor about all of it — even when you barely have enough in your bank accounts to fill the tank. All you can do is remember to laugh, and keep hoping that the next show will be the one that makes up for the three bad shows before it. All you can do is enjoy the changing weather and landscape speeding past your windows as you slowly crawl across the map to the next adventure.

Love,
Sarah