Marty Allen: The Talking Head is laid out like I'd imagine a tucked away Parisian cafe from the mid 1980s might be -- stout and upwardly sprawling, not at all unlike one of its regulars. Piles of kids rolled on into the joint, and we made with the sweaty and the awesome. And they liked it, too. Well, almost everyone liked it. At one point, someone thought it would be either wise or funny to throw a lemon at me. Perhaps it WAS funny, and made funnier still by my immediate flash of Cthuloid rage shouting ,"Do you motherfuckers want to SEE how we THROW THINGS in BOSTON?!!" It stopped, but the rock didn't.
Jesse: The place is packed. For the first time, it’s suggested that Uncle Monsterface himself stay by the merchandise table while the Potters do their set. He dances, poses for photos, and mingles with members of the crowd, who are warm and ready to embrace him. Uncle Monsterface is very shy but a complete ham as soon as he knows he’s got the floor. He, waves, flirts and dances with anyone who asks. And he really, genuinely likes people in a way that I wish I could.
As the crowds clear out, the Potters meet fans and pose for photos. There's a girl in a “Save Ginny Weasley” t-shirt off by herself, camera in hand, who keeps shyly looking over at Uncle Monsterface. Seeing this with his gigantic orange eyes, he makes his way over and she, bashfully but with great delight, asks for a photo. She hands the camera to a man, likely her father (Potter fans are sometimes young enough to need chaperones). Uncle Monsterface gently takes the camera and, unclear on the point of this, silently but urgently ushers the man and girl together so he can take their photo.
Paul: Baltimore knows how to party! It’s great being in the City that Reads! We’ve played here twice and each night was so awesome! Even the bartenders were having fun. I saw them gulping down Goblets of Fire just before we went on stage. This crowd was totally ready to rock with the wizards. We completed the set without any face-smashings or blood, and the only casualty of the night was our Invisible Drummer’s battery, but we are experts at resuscitating that guy. I can’t wait to come back to this place in May! You get four Ms. Pacman credits for a quarter!
Marty Allen: I'm starting to get modestly worried about the state of my throat. I have a bit of a cold and I scream like a madman every night, and it is already taking its toll. In addition to looking and smelling like a horse, I sound it, too.
Paul: At 2:20 a.m., we’re still working on our song for the day. This one is about the previous night’s on-stage antics. Marty drove on ahead to Charlottesville with his friend Marissa, so we called him on the phone to get him to participate in the song. We overcame some small technological limitations and had him sing into the onboard mic through the cell phone. He dropped a pretty awesome bridge: “Organ keys covered in blood/A tooth is jammed into a skull.” Our song rules!
