Tour 2018 – Leicester

Day 7

SoTD: Tunnock’s Milk Chocolate Tea Cakes – Oh my God, I would kill kittens for one. I’d horde them with a vehemence that would make Mammon blush. Like a Keebler Pinwheel in the States but better in every way. Firstly, instead of marshmallow on top of the cookie it’s Italian meringue. And there’s actual non-waxy chocolate covering it. Or as we like to say in the van, enrobing it. Given to us by a fan at the Brighton show I did not have a chance to thank them. So a big thanks to you!!

Britishism: Trimming Both Sides of the Hedge – Shaun told me what it means but I feel you’ll have more fun making up your own!











The morning in Cardiff I went for a walk along a stream, and through a bridge under the motorway that looked just like the one in “Les Revenants” where Serge ate people’s livers. I noticed that everything in this part of Wales was either rusting or growing moss. It was of course raining so I decided to compare annual rainfalls. Mawsynram in India has the most with 11, 871 mm. In Britain, Swansea gets the most rain with 1,360.8 mm. Cardiff comes in 5th with 980.8 mm. For comparison, in the United States, Seattle gets 965 mm per year. So wetter than a group of spinsters at a Ewan McGregor convention.

Before leaving Wales Shaun took us to the transporter bridge in Newport. It was a little more downtrodden than the other one but still a delight. We have now ridden two out of the three transporter bridges in the UK. There are only eight of these still working throughout the world.

We were playing the Musician and were looking forward to it. It’s got to be one of the best small venues in the country. It’s a roomy stage, has an amazing sound person, good sightlines, awesome staff, and a weird little green room tucked behind the stage. It’s located in a grey corner of the city and I had learned last time not to judge the whole city by this part. Walking around looking for dinner I couldn’t help but feel like things in Leicester are maybe not going as well as when we were here last. There were few people out and about and more beggars. I hope I’m wrong and it was just gray mid-week evening. And please be assured I’m not slagging Leicester. We’ve had two of our best shows there and goodness are the fans lovely. We played our best show of the tour so far. When I say best show, I’m talking about how well we played, not the crowd reaction or how much fun we had. Some nights the parts all come together and we become a singular thing. Most nights we get close. Some nights we play like the empathy booth at an NRA convention. i.e. depressed and depressing. It’s a funny thing, living out of your comfort zone, spending way too much time in very close proximity with the same group of people and hoping that sleep deprivation, screwed up dietary schedules, barely contained resentments, and fussy equipment all slip away for an hour and a half of shared catharsis and noisy joy. It does often enough to keep us hoping and trying though.

The last two nights came together in a delightful, sustaining way. Thanks!!

Tomorrow is London.

Tour 2018 Cardiff


Day 6

SoTD: Cheesy Wiggles from ASDA – These are standard cheese doodles. Nothing notable once you put it in your mouth. The reason I’m reviewing at all is the smell. If someone made fists with their feet in a vat of blue cheese, put on thick wool socks and then walked a fortnight through the desert you’d be there. The flavor is so disappointing after the smell emanating from the bag. Shaun hated the stench and banned it from the van.
Britishism: It’s a bit blowy out there – i.e. windy

I don’t remember much from the drive into Cardiff. I saw a Vespa with Mod stickers. Honestly we were all in pretty pissy moods for one reason or another.

Well actually one of them was obvious. When we played Edinborough on the last tour the six of us were booked into a single room of a youth hostel across the street from the club. The useless lift, the communal bathrooms, the partying eurotrashpackers, bunk beds, a night of snoring soaring farting sleeplessness. We said never again. We are truly not a fussy band. Our rider is water and a few beers if you can spare them. But we’re also too damn old for that shit. It takes days to come back from a night like that. So when we pulled up to a place I think was called Nomads, with a picture of a backpack on the sign, we were dubious. When we walked in Lisa looked around, asked the desk clerk if the bathrooms were shared. He replied, “Yes.” Lisa shook her head and said, “Fuck this, I’m out.” We trudged back to the van and set about finding pretty much any place else to sleep.

So it was grey and pissing rain when we got there, but we were able to pull right up to the club. We were to be playing the Moon, where we played our previous visit. If you’ll recall there was an enormous rugby match happening at the nearby stadium last time, necessitating us to carry/drag our equipment for half a mile because they had closed all the surrounding roads. Not this time mister. Other things had changed as well. This time we went down stairs to a different room and stage. The Moon is a rock club, all stickers on the walls and a drawing of Lemmy behind the bar admonishing us all to not be dicks. The stage was contained by a wooden railing creating a bandfold as it were. The ceiling was maybe 6.5 ft high, which is why my guitar has several new dings in it. While the soundman was working Joe and I went in search of a nearby beer. The place next door, a blues/jazzy type whiskey bar was open and we climbed the stairs to realize that was where we had played last time. The owner took us on a tour, “Remember the bathrooms? (legendary for their piquancy) No more!” and flung the ladies door open. They smelled like Hera’s morning breathe. It was a miracle. Everything was different and practically posh.

Back at the Moon we loaded our gear onto the stage. It was clearly Whovian in that I didn’t see how we could fit us all on it, but somehow not only did we fit but it was quite comfortable. After soundcheck I had very little time to eat and explore. I ate a veggie burger with a disc of honey-glazed goat cheese, which needs to happen again in this life, and tried to find an area that was maybe a little more where people lived and less big fuck-off buildings. I walked by what seemed to be a university area, the theater district, and wound up back by the castle. I went into the park and spied the keeper of the keys standing resolutely by the gate, giving me a dispassionate glance as if to say, “Yar, I’ve locked you in once and I’ll do it again.” Each park bench contained a pair of entwined young people snogging as if life giving proteins could be extracted from each others uvulas. Tired and still somewhat dispirited I made my way back to the club. And then the tour miracle happened. The crowd was magnificent and we finally played in a way that felt like we were getting our legs back. It’s really important that that happens on a tour. If you feel like you’re never quite getting it then the frustrations grow and you don’t get that release of “Oh right, that’s why we do this!”

And the hotel we ended up in felt luxurious in its amenities. By which I mean it was the first hotel we’d been in with air conditioning. We’ll discuss air conditioning in the UK at a later date. Me may have to agree to disagree.

Tomorrow is LeicesterTour 2018

Tour 2018 Glasgow and the Lake District

Day 5
Travel Day

SotD: Sweet Chili and Sour Cream by Deluxe
Finally a winner! Deluxe appears to be the store brand for the Lidl supermarket chain. We were in Cardiff and they were quite inexpensive. Seriously, it’s about the perfect crisp. Tastes like real sour cream and is just a bit spicy. Chuck says it tastes like Play-D’oh but his palette leans more towards wagon train cuisine.
Britishism: tosser – jerk, idiot.
It just doesn’t work with the American accent. But to hear Shaun fling it at an incompetent driver is a thing of beauty. “You bloody tosser!”

The wonderful thing about bandmates who rouse themselves with the alacrity of a grizzly bear in January getting up to let the cat out, is the opportunity to explore. My disappointment at seeing so little of Glasgow disappeared when I realized I could squeeze in about 2.5 hours. We were staying practically under the highway across the River Clyde from the city proper. It feels anticlimactic to call such an important body of water Clyde. I read the history, I know why it’s named Clyde, but there is nothing that says it can’t be given a more noble designation. Would it be OK if the Mississippi was called Kevin? Or the Nile named Gary? No it would not. I will not presume to offer suggestions to such a deep and wonderful culture, but if one were to press me, I might think the River Gillan has a nice ring to it.

I crossed a footbridge on my way to Georges Square and picked up a greasy and gritty Glaswegian glazed gourmet doughnut and coffee. Coffee was good though. The square itself is typical of the form with statues scattered about, including an 80 ft high anatomically correct column erected in honor of Walter Scott, and a stubbier statue dedicated to Robert Burns. Proving there was a time when statues were being built for poets and authors. Fancy that. The City Chambers is gorgeous and the World War I monument appropriately large and touching. That said, there wasn’t much shaking and the people watching slow going, so I scampered off to the Gallery of Modern Art. The gallery resides in a neoclassical building built in 1778. Museums and libraries are my happy places and this one was a cracker. (to use the regional colloquialism) An aspect I would like to see all other museums adopt was a huge library open to the public for free, with 48,000 books on art and other less important things. I loved everything about it. The juxtaposition between the old architecture and the modern art did both a favor, the exhibits were top notch, and my mood was transformed. I was pleased to see the iconic statue called the Duke, (i.e. the Duke of Wellington) with his traffic cone hat. It’s a delightful bit of Glasgow pride that for over 30 years whenever the government removed the cone hat, within days a new one would appear. After an ill-advised plan to raise the plinth* in order to discourage the be-hatting, a worldwide movement rose up and finally forced the government to concede that it’s pretty fucking funny.

On the way out I saw a brochure for something called the Lighthouse that looked cool and was on the way. The Lighthouse is Scotland’s Center for Design and Architecture. And while I have an idea what that means for the average person I’m not quite interested enough to figure it out. However! The thing that was super cool was that the tower itself was Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s first public commision to be built, and one can climb a shit-ton of spiral stairs to end up at the top with a fresh air view of the city. Lovely.

I quite liked Glasgow although I really just dealt it a glancing blow. I love the massive, timeless architecture. I felt a humor and energy there that made me instantly feel like this was a place I could work and spend time. And of course the people of the north are God’s people.**

I got back to the hotel just in time for us to leave for Kendal in the Lake District. We were driving part of the way to Cardiff so this was a day off of sorts. Shaun and I were excited because of the sheepfolds. Sheepfolds were the pens shepherds used to minister to the sheep, trims hooves, etc. They harken back to an older time (or is it a younger time?) and have either disappeared or fallen into disrepair. In the Cumbria County they commissioned Andy Goldsworthy to celebrate “this perfect republic of shepherds.” Andy Goldsworthy is an artist I’ve loved for years but because of the natural nature of his art it’s not something you find in museums. (there is a really cool piece in the Glasgow Gallery of Modern Art – proving that everything I say is a lie) Goldsworthy produces, to quote the internet, “site-specific sculptures in natural and urban setting using natural materials and the passage of time.” He’s brilliant. His creativity, skill and what would appear to be the patience of Sisyphus, creates art that sometimes lasts only minutes, or melts as the sun rises. Or these revived sheepfolds could last a hundred years. Here’s a link to the project if you’re interested.

These were the directions we had to follow to find just two of them.

near Kendal (SD 460 931 & SD 460 932)

The site has two folds each containing a large boulder into which a mountain ash tree has been planted. At Underbarrow, between Kendal and Crossthwaite, take the road toward Crook for about 1 mile. The folds are south of Mountjoy Farm through a gate on the opposite side of the road. Walking up the slope, one fold is diagonally to the left, one to the right. The original tree growing in a rock is on the fell above.

This lead us deep into some of the prettiest farm country I’ve ever seen. Everything the cliche of British countryside evokes in you exists right here. The beautiful stone walls spider-webbed over rolling hills, dividing up emerald green fields dotted with fuzzy, white, bleating, shit machines and their deceptively innocent looking offspring.*** The roads were windy and narrow for a large band van and we had to drive a mile down the road before finding a narrow space to tuck it away. We walked under tunnels of trees, passed a cat sitting on an ancient stone wall, staring at us balefully while waiting in vain to hear the words that would prove our worth and admit us entrance to the magical realm currently under siege from the soulless clan know cryptically as “The Developers.” Once admitted we would be tasked to battle them in many small local committee meetings held at inconvenient times in airless city hall basements. Oh, and we saw a pheasant!

We walked through fields assailed by the angry baa-ing of spoiled lambies and stumbled upon the folds. They don’t look like a piece of art any more than the walls that surround them do. Which is to say they do. These two were reconstructed in such a way as to seamlessly integrate into the landscape. When you look closer you notice the details that turn them into something new. What a delightful few hours.

We got back, after barely squeezing through the increasingly narrow labyrinthian country lanes to pick up everyone else, get some dinner, and to decide that we would try to race the sunset to Windermere lake, lying about a half an hour away. Dinner did not agree with me so I held on as we wound through the darkening landscape with what I’d like to think was the grim stoicism of say, Percy Fawcett?

Windemere is obviously a major vacation spot. It was bright, full of lakeside shops and hotels. Very charming. Like Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman,” or a classy Myrtle Beach. It’s the largest natural lake in Britain and is home to the World of Beatrix Potter. I guess she lived or wrote around here. Did you know that when she died they found the bones of literally thousands of bunny rabbits in her basement? Apparently she dissected them in order to try to get to their essence and portray them more accurately. Benjamin Bouncer and Peter Piper became sadistic overlords and are still whispered about during story time at fuzzy baby bunny sleepovers. It’s true.

We enjoyed the sun setting over the mountains and called it a day. Tomorrow is Cardiff.

  • ”Raise the plinth” makes me giggle.
    ** I’m not religious. I spent ten minutes trying to come up with a better description and couldn’t. I love how no one seems to get overly fussed about anything, look as if they’re gauging exactly what level of idiot you are, but then everyone when you actually meet them is as open, kind, helpful, and inclined towards laughter as you could ever imagine.
    *** Don’t turn your back – they’ll cut a bitch.

Tour 2018 Glasgow

Day 4

SoTD: Hippeas – organic chickpea puffs, Far Out Fajita Flavor.
I’m sorry. In my attempt to bring you unique salty snacks I’ve gone too far afield. I mean there was no way these were going to be good. It’s fucking powdered chickpeas reconstituted into a cheese doodle shape and sprinkled with store bought fajita seasoning. Now if they had called it astronaut hummus then I’d have been excited. Pretend you’re on the Apollo missions and pop some dried hummus in your mouth, add saliva and it turns into a dip-like paste in your mouth. Wow!

Britishism: Fox Rain – Brought to you today by the band Say Sue Me. They’re labelmates on Damnably Records and hail from South Korea. Shaun toured with them immediately preceding us. One day a rain shower popped up and the band said, “Oh look, fox rain!” Shaun of course asked what that meant and they told him this wonderful legend: The rain cloud sees the fox and falls hopelessly in love. It pursues the fox endlessly hoping for just another glance. The fox wants merely to lie in the sun and is unaware of the cloud’s desire. So whenever the cloud catches up to the fox, bringing with it the rain, the fox jumps up and runs away until it is in the sun again. So the next time a brief rain shower pops up know that the cloud briefly found the fox again.

Our hotel was just off the highway and I feared for my perambulations. I walked on a grassy patch next to the road and came on a small road with a few horsey farms. The first field I came to contained a single horse who upon seeing me ambled straight over, let me pet it, and began to graze right there. I said “I will name you Steve and I will hug you and pet you and squeeze you.” I walked for several miles along fields and through small wooded areas. Nothing much happened. I saw a lapwing and gloried in the sunny British countryside.

It made no difference at all

We were late leaving the hotel (not my fault I swear) and Shaun said we wouldn’t be able to stop at the Angel of the North. But at the last minute he said, “Fuck It- I’ve never not stopped with a band here,” pulled off the exit and said “ 5 minutes tops.” The Angel of the North is a huge metal sculpture created by Antony Gormley. It’s 66 ft tall and has a wingspan of 177 ft across. It’s right next to the A1 motorway so according to the BBC it’s seen by one person every second. People were having picnics on it’s lee side and children were running up and tumbling gleefully down the hill leading up to its base. I tapped one of the ribs of steel that give it its distinctive look, expecting a gonging sound, but it was solid steel. So substantial and wonderful, draped in a rusty brown color so distinctive a flower has been named after it. I saw a small memento mori with a sign that said, “you are loved.” I scoffed and said loudly to the happy people around me, “Love is an artificial construct designed to subjugate the weak-minded.” Then I kicked the sign over and stomped on it.*

I’ve never been to Glasgow before and the prospect of a new grand city is especially exciting. Lisa was feeling poorly with a bad cold or allergies and the energy of the band was at a bit of a low ebb. We went straight to the Centre for Contemporary Arts, which is where we were playing. The CCA is a beautiful facility with a cafe’ serving tons of vegetarian food, an exhibit space, and a performance space, all done up in modern clean interiors and full of beautifully cool people who occasionally stop in mid-stride, put the earpiece of their glasses into their mouths and mutter, “How is a crow like a MacBook Pro?” and then shake their heads and move on.

We set up and soundchecked. The space was incredible. Sounds barely echoed at all. Thus the sound on stage was the best I’ve ever had. I could hear everything but it didn’t seem loud at all. It was a big room and I was trying not to worry as to whether anyone would show. One of my favorite bands of all time is Superchunk. They don’t tour a bunch anymore and haven’t been to Glasgow in 17 years. The best time to remedy that would of course be the same night we made our debut. Several people had come to see us in Durham the night before because the were going to see them. I didn’t blame them. I would too. There’s only so many fans of MAWGR (Middle-Aged White Guitar Rock) left and soon we will find ourselves in the position of classical orchestras, playing to an audience of bald and blue-haired old dears suffering attrition during the intermission due to death, leaky bladders and full colostomy bags. We heard through the grapevine that they were having a time of it. Apparently the airline had misplaced their instruments coming over from Ireland, and then the hotel had sold their rooms. Proof there’s no such thing as a free ride even if you’ve put out one of the best albums of your career. Their new record “What a Time To Be Alive” is that most rare of things; a record with smart lyrics that rocks from beginning to end, with songs you can sing after it’s done. Anyway, Godspeed and all that.

By the time I finished the best veggie reuben I’ve ever had (by a long shot) I had to accept I wasn’t going to see much of Glasgow. Interestingly, we were opening for ourselves again this night and I was to join Chuck and Lisa onstage and play a few of my songs. I was unprepared and my voice was croaking like an underwater cow’s fart, but I didn’t care because the world is descending into fire and a few songs with pedestrian verses** won’t make much of a ripple either way. I played Conversation Lags and Chuck and Lisa sang. It was fun.

We had a nice audience. Somewhere in size between my fears and best hopes. They were of course the most discerning and clever people this side of Hadrian’s Wall. We’re playing a little better every night, and when Lisa’s voice gave out on “Beautiful,” our last song of the night, and Chuck jumped in to sing with her it was ragged and moving in the best way.

Tomorrow will be a driving day.

*none of that’s true
**Scott Hutchison being on my mind all day.

2019 Tour


Wussy founding members Chuck Cleaver, Lisa Walker and Mark Messerly will be combining forces for a solo tour throughout the East Coast, New England and Midwest in Summer 2019. The in-the-round style shows will feature material from Cleaver’s upcoming debut solo LP, as well as from Walker’s and Messerly’s recently-released solo albums (under the monikers The Magic Words and INERT, respectively). The trio will perform in a combination of one-, two- and three-person setups, sharing stories behind songs as time permits. Some stripped-down Wussy numbers will be included in the set (a la Funeral Dress II and Public Domain), interspersed with new solo and duo material.

July 25 / PHILADELPHIA / PhilaMoca

July 26 / NEW YORK / Piano’s (early show)

July 27 / BALTIMORE / Club 603 (SOLD OUT)

Aug 1 / ALBANY / Low Beat

Aug 2 / BOSTON / Midway Cafe w/Chris Brokaw and Thalia Zedek

Aug 3 / MONTPELIER / House Show

Aug 9 / COLUMBUS / Ace of Cups w/Amprays (early show)

Aug 10 / CINCINNATI / Motr Pub w/Plastic Ants (free)

Washington D.C./Baltimore – Days 26 & 27

Herrs Curls Baltimore-1 Herrs Curls Baltimore-2

Ranking Cheese Doodle: Herr’s Old Bay Cheese Curls: We tried these a few years ago and they were horrible. Two great tastes that didn’t go together. We didn’t finish the bag and then when I left the remainders in my work lunchroom it took a full four months before they were gone. At our Baltimore show an audience member brought a small bag for the blog. Obviously the time had come to face the doodle of our darkest dreams. So with trepidation tempered by experience we dove in. And they were pretty good. Either we’ve changed or they’ve dialed in the cheese to Old Bay ratio. I lean towards the latter.

Texture: Excellent of course. It’s Herr’s.

Flavor: Well hell. Do you put cheddar cheese on your crab cake? Because that’s what we’re talking about here. Try them. There’s no other way to know.

 Green Rooms and Restrooms: The Black Cat


Idiocy from the Van: We’ve run out of material so I’m going to excerpt some of the non-offensive parts of “The Sound of Wussy.”


“Whiskers on kittens and toenails on babies,

Big bloomin’ onions and raccoons with rabies,

Thick panty liners and Always with wings,

These are a few of my favorite things.”


To be continued…


There’s a concept indulgently referred* to as rock time. When I was doing live sound in my twenties there was also a thing called reggae time, because reggae bands would show up for soundcheck two hours late, if at all. These were bands made up of Cincinnati locals so a cultural inclination founded by an upbringing in Jamaica is not indicative. These were the same folks who during the aforementioned late soundcheck would ask for more vocals in the monitor with their native Westside Cincinnati accent, but when the show started were suddenly seized with an insistent Caribbean patois. I know it’s all show business but this irritated me to no end. The first time I remember hearing about this concept was with Indian time. The idea was that American Indians were always late to European appointments because they were used to operating in sync with more natural rhythms. Of course this was used as another example of their inferiority by some, and proof that the modern world was crushing our spirits by others. Rock time is definitely and probably deservingly disparaging. Those lay-a-bouts can not only not get a real job but can’t even manage the simple courtesy of punctuality. When I was a green lad in my twenties I was on time. I think I was at least. But after years of sitting around waiting in front of a locked studio, on the loading dock in front a rehearsal space, outside a club, etc. I started showing up later and later. And I still wasn’t late. Unfortunately it now means I’m late for everything that is not band related. I do feel bad about it but I think it’s important to not feel bad about it. Wussy is late all the time. It used to cause me ulcer levels of stress but now I’ve gotten better at letting it go. It’s not like fussing about it had an appreciable impact. It’s like yelling at the tides. Or more accurately yelling at the monkeys to finish writing Hamlet more quickly. In the end it just irritates the monkeys and you’re more likely to end up with Titus Andronicus.

In the case of us getting to Washington D.C. it really wasn’t our fault. Getting from Providence to D.C. should take 6.5 hours, but with NYC and D.C. to get through though you have to anticipate adding at least another hour for traffic. Then of course you always have to take into account the band math. This is fuzzy but I’ve pretty much figured out that for every four hours of travel required an hour of band stops will sneak in there. We’re supposed to load-in at 7:00 so leaving at 10:00 am we should be fine. At least fine in the context of rock time.** But like fascism and Birkenstocks reflect humanities darkest natures and thus can never be fully eradicated, I-95 will find a way to remind you that evil lives. Somewhere around Baltimore the entire highway was shut down. A spanner in the works they said. So we were re-routed and began slouching slowly towards Washington. In my biased opinion D.C. traffic is the worst in the country. I have so many bad experiences to draw upon. On our first tour we had to drive overnight from Chapel Hill to Brooklyn and hit D.C. during the morning rush. I had taken the first shift but it was Chuck who had to deal with hours of traffic after being up all night. And then I remember being in a rental car with two babies trying to get through D.C. after a plane ride, and it taking so long actual pieces of our souls began sloughing off like spiritual sootikins.

By the time we arrived at the Black Cat we had missed soundcheck and got loaded in just before the opening band started. Oh and it was so hot. The locals said it wasn’t so bad but they’re wrong. I asked where the bathroom was and was pointed up the back stairs to a mental and physical monstrosity I will call Big Pink. It was as hot as solitary confinement on Devil’s Island and painted a lurid, unnatural pink that made me feel as if I was somehow inside a bottle of Pepto Bismol that itself was inside a convection oven.

Everyone was super friendly though, we got to order food off the menu, and they stocked lots of water, beer, and soda. If you go back to the beginning of this tour’s blog (April) you’ll see I wrote a history of our experience trying to find success in D.C., which might give this some context. Up until now our desire to play the Black Cat was as probable as Duckie dribbling off Andie’s Bobbie Brooks, but in what has been a lovely trend of late we were surprised with an audience that was almost a sell-out, with people standing on chairs to see, and lined up to the back. It was so unexpected and lovely it shook us out of our heat and travel induced stupor. I’ve never sweated so much, but to know we have an audience in D.C. is so delightful we couldn’t stop talking about it the next day. There was a family in the front row who I’m guessing came so their daughter, probably around 12 years old, could see us. She had a hat pulled down over her eyes but kept them locked on Lisa as she sang along with every word. It’s incredibly gratifying to see how Lisa is inspiring young women. I’m not a young woman any more so I don’t know what she means to them, but I will say to be someone passionately pursuing their art and expressing themselves so uncompromisingly has got to be a wonderful legacy beyond some great songs and good to average performances.

There was a newlywed couple who had first kissed and then first danced at their wedding to “Little Paper Birds.” We publicly mocked them and then averted our eyes as we played the song. I think I saw a darting tongue in my peripheral vision but wish them the best nonetheless.

After the show we drove to the location of our house show. This was to be our fourth time playing at Club 603 as they call it when their house transforms into a performance space. They’ve become our dear friends and their home a respite. We got there, drank a tequila, and went to bed. I slept in my usual room and that’s all I did for a long time. I slept in until hunger forced me out of bed. I ate a bagel, and went back to bed. Slept some more, didn’t quite get out of bed and fell asleep for a third time. After 12 hours of sleep and lunch I spent the rest of the day writing. It was a good day.

The way it works is that there are about 50 tickets available online and if you get one you sit or stand in the living room or foyer while we play our full rock set. They rent a sound system and hire a sound guy, and the room honestly sounds really good and warm. We mixed up the set a bit, abused each other verbally, and had a wonderful time. If you can see a musician you love in this space do so. It’s the pinnacle of house shows.


Guess what we’re doing here?

Tomorrow will be our last official show on the Forever Sounds Tour in a town we’ve never played: Richmond, VA.


*It’s madness!

**See last paragraph

Forever Sounds 2016 Tour

Date City Venue
July 7 Columbus, OH
w/Kyle Sowashes, Drift Mouth
Double Happiness
July 8 Cleveland, OH
w/Lawton Bros, Fever Child
Beachland Tavern
July 9 Albany, NY
w/Paranoid Style, Sky Furrows
The Low Beat
July 10 New York, NY
w/Paranoid Style
Bowery Ballroom
July 12 Providence, RI
w/Tall Teenagers
Columbus Theater
July 13 Boston, MA
w/A Band Called E
Middle East Upstairs
July 14 Washington, DC
w/Dot Dash
Black Cat
July 15 Baltimore, MD Club 603
Sold Out
July 16 Richmond, VA
w/Sunndrug, Lady God, Various Eggs
Strange Matter
Sept 23 Cincinnati, OH
Woodward Theater
Sept 24 Cincinnati, OH
Woodward Theater
Forever Sounds
Forever Sounds

Wussy / Forever Sounds

SPIN’s 50 Best Albums of 2016 So Far
“America’s best songwriting band might now be among its best soundscaping ones” – SPIN

“Their most complete work yet” – Noisey

“Swirling psych rock riffs that expand outward, seemingly without end” – AV Club

“Criminally underrated” – Paste

“A swaggering, bleary, distorted churn topped off by another virtuoso vocal duet” – Stereogum

“Maximum singability and staying power” Pitchfork

Following the release of their cult classic debut in 2005, “to certain fans of Lucinda Williams, Crazy Horse, Mekons and R.E.M., Wussy became the best band in America almost instantaneously with…Funeral Dress” (SPIN). Made up of Chuck Cleaver (Ass Ponys), Lisa Walker, Mark Messerly, Joe Klug, and John Erhardt, the band has truly come into ther own on the new album.

IMG_2120Having returned from a string of successful 2016 UK and US dates (including BBC6, KEXP and Daytrotter sessions), Wussy resume their extensive tour of the US on July 7.

Wussy’s 2016 LP Forever Sounds (Shake It / Damnably) has been  featured in SPIN, Noisey, Stereogum, NPR, AV Club, Paste and more. Most recently, the band’s UK Record Store Day single “Ceremony” (Damnably) has been getting extensive BBC airplay since its April 22 release. Their tour season wraps up in September with two back-to-back hometown shows at Cincinnati’s historic Woodward Theater with special guests that will be announced in July.

US Tour Update!


June 8 – ST. LOUIS – Twangfest / Off Broadway w/James McMurtry, The VonDrukes // Tickets

June 9 – TULSA – Soundpony w/American Werewolf Academy

June 10 – DALLAS – Three Links Deep Ellum w/American Werewolf Academy, Joe Gorgeous // Tickets

June 11 – AUSTIN – Spiderhouse Ballroom w/American Werewolf Academy, Residual Kid

June 14 – LOS ANGELES – Silverlake Lounge w/Chris Brokaw // Tickets

June 15 – SAN FRANCISCO – Elbo Room w/Chris Brokaw, Night School // Tickets

June 17 – PORTLAND – Star Theater w/Chris Brokaw, Rubella Graves // Tickets

June 18 – SEATTLE – El Corazon w/Chris Brokaw, The Purrs, QAZI // Tickets

June 19 – WENATCHEE – Two Bar w/Chris Brokaw

June 20 – BOISE – Neurolux Lounge w/Chris Brokaw, Outer Spaces // Tickets

June 22 – DENVER – Moon Room w/Too Many Humans // Tickets

June 23 – KANSAS CITY – Davey’s Uptown w/Schwervon, Cave Girls

June 24 – CHICAGO – Empty Bottle w/Calliope // Tickets

June 25 – LOUISVILLE – Headliner’s w/The Fervor, Frederick the Younger // Tickets

July 8 – CLEVELAND – Beachland Tavern // Tickets

July 9 – ALBANY – The Low Beat w/Paranoid Style // Tickets

July 10 – NYC – Bowery Ballroom w/Paranoid Style // Tickets

July 12 – PROVIDENCE – Columbus Theatre // Tickets

July 13 – BOSTON – The Middle East w/A Band Called E // Tickets

July 14 – DC – The Black Cat w/Dot Dash // Tickets

July 15 – BALTIMORE – Club 603 // Sold Out

July 16 – RICHMOND – Strange Matter w/Sunndrug, Lady God, Various Eggs // Tickets


UK Tour Update


Hi guys! Here’s all our #Wussy #ForeverSounds tour dates from March 29 – June 25. Can’t wait to play for y’all! I realize we can’t get to every city we’d like to – and we’re truly sorry about that. It’s a matter of routing and scheduling. But we’re awfully proud of this upcoming effort, and we truly hope to see some of you out on the road!! Bless your hearts all of you. You make this sort of thing possible!

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Wussy Announce Sixth Album ‘Forever Sounds’ and Share New Track, ‘Dropping Houses’

Wussy Announce Sixth Album ‘Forever Sounds’ and Share New Track, ‘Dropping Houses’ via SPIN Magazine

“America’s best songwriting band might now be among its best soundscaping ones” – SPIN
“It’s a swaggering, bleary, distorted churn topped off by another virtuoso vocal duet from Walker and Cleaver.” – Stereogum
Wussy’s sixth LP is bleaker and more difficult than its predecessor, 2014’s tentatively anthemic Attica!. The album is full of darkly valiant shoegaze, music that is cozy enough to hibernate under. – Pitchfork

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