The Good Life

There is a contest to win an autographed copy of the new Good Life album “Help Wanted Nights”, tour poster and buttons at www.indierockreviews.com. All you have to do is answer a super simple question. The signatures on all album and poster are all in different colors and is super limited.

Thanks for loving music,

IRR

Dear Good Life,

In Phoenix tonight.

Hope you like whiskey.

Today we drove and drove and drove. We loaded all our hefty heavy gear in the van this morning and left Omaha around noon. We flicked on the radio somewhere west of Lincoln and listened to the Huskers get destroyed by Texas A&M as we drove across the plains. In Kearney, we stopped at Runza, the least crappy fast food chain in Nebraska.

We entered the desert of eastern Colorado and saw the sun begin to set through a model teepee on the land at the visitors center. We stopped for gas outside of Julesberg. The cashier was trying to give away one of her four dogs. One of the other four was dying of rectal cancer.

We saw two or three UFOs above the horizon, no joke. They’d shine and disappear as we continued toward Denver. They never attacked, but they were real.

In the city, a sign above the highway informed us of winter weather. And it was true. West of Denver, we were trying to outrun the storm. The van was a pontoon boat moving slowly backward in the dark of a still lake. The lines of the road and the blowing snow created a swirling mirage, a mesmerizing illusion of stillness. Cars passed us and we rode the brakes, pulsing them as we looked at the runaway truck ramp out of the corners of our eyes.

We debated: should we continue into the storm in an attempt to outrun it; or should we stop in Frisco at our already-reserved hotel room? We chose the latter.

We checked in and rode a free bus to a snowboarder frat bar in Frisco. A girl in a green t-shirt danced like an ostrich and smelled like a leftover burrito. We danced and laughed and played darts badly. We rode the free bus back and Double D at the hotel bar gave us way too many free drinks. We learned that “cherry pow pow gnar gnar” means really pretty good snow, sort of.

We watched television and saw the professional carpet cleaner’s haircut. We talked on the phone when we shouldn’t have. We looked up the weather report online and decided to sleep in.

I love you guys. I finally get to see you play in San Francisco (which is a good 3 and a 1/2 hour drive for me….) and the stupid date just wont hurry up and get here!!! It makes my heart palpitate just thinking of it….. Can I take your picture and carry it around in my handbag? Like, me with my arm around Tim….. and I can say “look, I met the Good Life!” and everyone I know (and some I don’t) will be jealous? And then maybe we can drink whiskey and make out?

That’s kinda stalker like. Sorry about that. Sigh……

That last pic is Rog’s girlfriend for the length of one whole meal. I’m sorry – imaginary girlfriend. I am not understanding the innards of this interent and website very well. So, here is us at that meal, for the sake of continuity.

i’m very excited about your show at the cat’s cradle. haven’t seen you in months! please play a song so that my ex will love me again.

Can i do a cover of all your songs and make millions off of it like you guys haha. You guys should cover a song that no one thinks you would ever do like system or some crazy metal band.

Once upon a time I was just another weirdo in Iowa City needing a dose of home.  So what did I do? I went to a show and had my world rocked by The Good Life, of course!

I guess Tim and company just love us enough to book two shows. Chicago’s Subterranean played host to a double-bill, which Roger described as something he had never done before, yet it seemed as if all four founding members did it every day.

Both shows were jam-packed with excitable crowds, fast, furious openers, and 70-plus-minute sets by the Good Life. The rotation of songs clearly favored new material, completely leaving off anything from Novena, but the crowd-pleasers they did tackle were done well and to uproarious applause.

The best and most unexpected song of the night had to be the cover of Liz Phair’s “Fuck and Run.” Hearing Tim Kasher croon about his desire to have a boyfriend is a mere slap in the face of his own song-writing. It wasn’t until the night’s 30th song (yes, you read correctly – they played a total of thirty songs that night) that they erupted. The crowd certainly was into it before they played “Inmates” to close out the second show, but the place simply exploded after its conclusion. Always a good way to close out a set.

Some kind words for the band:

-Ryan: Your shirt kicked ass. Nothing else. It was just a badass shirt.
-Roger: You beat the hell out of those drums. Why is the drummer always confined to the back of the stage? Come closer to us next time, we want to see you up close.
-Stefanie: Dress + cowboy boots = success.
-Tim: I will be your boyfriend – for serious.

I saw you guys at Triple Rock last night. Really really great show. also I had no idea Tim was so easy on the eyes.