It's Doom Season
I’m home and DOOM’D after the week long buzz of tour. Our bodies are recovering from the exhaustion, but Aramis and I agree the symptoms are closer to a fresh breakup. You relive how things were just a week ago, you listen to songs that remind you of them. The nostalgia is immediate and new emotions emerge as you also try to find your traction with a new routine, struggling as you relearn time alone.
Post-tour life is the hard part; your day job doesn’t wait for you to readjust to the normalcy of home-life. For Aramis, that's asking if you have a preference of tequila with your beer; LaDaniel, thatʼs cooking a steak to your liking; Eli, bicycling you to your destination with a smile; and Nathan, screening your latest shirt.
Most of your anxieties from your daily life seem to fall away while out on the road.. You race to sustenance with the five minutes and two gas stations at your disposal. You’re not wasting time looking at Yelp reviews or taking extra time to split the check evenly; it’s grab and go and don’t be the last one out. It’s not luxurious but that van-ham-egg-and-cheese hits different.
Less familiarity. When you explore something new itʼs stimulating and energizing. A city, its food, the local venue's green room amenities. You never know what to expect and the mystery keeps you curious. When you return back home, you attach memories to places, residuals of the past that come with biased feelings. Sometimes it even feels like groundhogs day.
As we take our seats on the final flight from Brick City, Bellies full of Jersey pizza, The mandatory screaming child cues up tears as soon as he notices the lack of screens on the headrest in front of him: “I AM NOT OKAY”. We all feel that way sometimes, but more than anything, it's an example of how expectations and familiarity can set you up for disappointment. We laugh under our breath in surprisingly good spirits after a Newark airport delay that kept us at our gate for five hours.
“Are you guys like a rock skate band?” Asks the crying kid's dad. He claims that he also used to skate and snowboard, all to the dismay of his wife, sitting next to Aramis. Eli offers the kid a shirt and he lights up like a fucking Christmas tree.
Sometimes, we all just need a little disruption in our lives to brighten the day.
Less options of music to choose from; drivers choice. Less time to think about the future. Doom today's performance and get to the next venue; that's all that matters.
Less self centered thinking. When you're with the band for 7 days you have to be considerate. You gain a community in return. Seven thousand randoms and the same five youʼve come to always count on. Toro [y Moi] and They Hate Change are super chill and dealing with the same circumstances we all are. It's like a music summer camp curated by Chaz himself, sans Donkey Lips and public humiliation.
You sleep wherever thereʼs space and whenever thereʼs time. Hotel floors and pass-through living rooms; Blankets and pillows optional, fleas and AC as well. The temperature breaks three digits with east coast humidity drizzled on top. Despite all of this, I sleep better on the road than from my bedroom and king size bed thatʼs big enough for the whole band plus luggage. I’m even falling asleep on the couch at home now. TV is trying to replace the feeling and exhaustion that a day’s end on the road brings and I’m unsatisfied.
We now miss the Deez nuts jokes in the legless middle seat; No more chugging pedialyte or instruments cramping your feet. Instead of billboards or skylines moving through my eyeline from the van window, I scroll and binge the world from my living room couch. With as much personal space as I could ask for, I find myself wanting less.
