Okay. So DODES is outta here. SOULCRACKER is in first place, which sucks. They’re way ahead of FLICK and HARLOW. FLICK is in last (boo).
It’s 8:00 AM, and JOSH DODES BAND is getting ready to split. Ramsey comments on how “it’s hard to see them go.” I didn’t know Ramsey could speak. He’s never said a thing before this. Any old cow, DODES and CRACK have a big hug session, and Daryl visits FLICKERSTICK to say goodbye. Chimene gives Josh a kiss. Adrian mentions that she’s not really going to miss the promoting, which I really can’t blame her for. Not fun. Chimene mentions in her interview that she’s happy that HARLOW didn’t get kicked off. Well, duh. Jo Jo and Maiya didn’t expect to go home first, they’re disappointed, blah blah. Whatever, they’re gone. Time to move on.
That’s why Brendon and Katina are here. Woohoo! They go over the tour earnings, which read:
FLICK -- $4251
HARLOW -- $4994
CRACKHEADS -- $5232
Not. That blows. I want SOULCRACKER to lose. They’re such scumbags.
Katina mentions that the city on the tour is Nashville. There’s also a bonus opportunity. If they want to, the bands can each write a country song and perform it in Nashville for a hundred smackers. Cool deal.
The bands hit the road. In the CRACKVAN, Beastie McTooth and Bobbo the Clown are talking. Beastie wants to get at least a thousand dollars ahead of HARLOW. Bob: “Oh yeah. HARLOW is in big trouble.” Oh, whatever, Captain Bigbucks. Why don’t you just chill out for a second? Damn. Bob is such a cocky doof. Why is this band so sucky? To be honest, I don’t mind the other guys so much. AP is kind of a tool, but Sutton and Ramsey aren’t that bad. It’s just Beastie and Bob. They try to act all oblivious to the fact that they’re jerks. If they would just admit that they’re scumbags, it would be one thing. But they are just money-hungry show-stealers. Screw them. Beastie: “I don’t think the other bands respect us and how we want to play out a lot of the time.” Look, dude, they don’t disrespect you because you want to play. They disrespect you because you try to play at their venues on their nights. Dumbass.
FLICKERSTICK is a bit worried about the country tune. Cory: “The one thing we got is that we’re from Texas! We’re the only Southern band on this thing.” All the boys share a good laugh. They’re great. I’m going to see them with Sars on Wednesday and I am pumped. Anyway, Brandin thinks HARLOW is “in the wrong town.” Yeah. They can barely play their own music, let alone country. We’ll see…
Rebecca is the only HARLOW member even willing to try writing the song. She starts noodling around in the van, and everyone seems kind of annoyed. Rayshele thinks it “sounds like a fart.” Agreed.
Sutton already got an idea for the tune. He’s thinking about his girl. Aw. Shut up, Beastie.
The bands arrive in Nashville. SOULCRACKER goes to their venue, the Exit/In, to case the joint and find some other places to play. AP is psyched: “This is one of the most important music cities in the world. It’s gonna be really cool.” Yeah, if your band loses. Oh, hey, AP? Tell Beastie to shut up. Tell him to shut Bob up, too. Thanks a bunch.
HARLOW gets into their hotel room, where they have a message waiting. John, the promoter for their venue, wants them to play at this thing called “Twelve at 12th,” where (you guessed it) twelve bands play two songs a piece. They’re down. Rebecca thinks it’s a great idea.
Apparently, so does SOULCRACKER, who’s getting the lowdown on the “Twelve at 12th.” When they get to the venue, they find out that it’s HARLOW’s club. AP: “Dude they’re gonna be really mad.” Bob: “I’ll bet you they won’t get mad.” AP: “They will get mad, but who cares?” Ew, shut up, AP! Now you suck, too! Ew! Whatever, enough of you guys. You smell like poo.
FLICK is, as is to be expected, down at the hotel bar, eating and boozing. Fletcher is just chilling at the bar, selling CDs, and two women come up and start hitting on him. They’re both clearly lit, and they both seem to think Fletcher’s got it goin’ on. The larger woman starts shoving Fletcher’s face into her cleavage and telling him she has large breasts. Um, I’m sure he gets it. Fletcher: “I was like, ‘Whatever, maybe I can get some sales off of her.’” Fair enough, dude. As soon as she leaves, the boys all start razzin’ him. Rex: “We can put on some Barry White, pour some white Zinfandel…” Fletch: “Dude, she told me, ‘You can hide under my shirt, I got big breasts.’” Rex: “Why are you still here dude?” Heh. The boys share a few laughs. It’s good to see them in such high spirits even though they’re dead last.
In the HARLOWVAN, Chimene says, “I feel like Spinal Tap. Except they were better musicians.” That about wraps it up for me. Then they get a page that tells them that SOULCRACKER is at their venue. They are livid. Becks: “We set boundaries at the beginning of this thing, and one of them was that we’d never play another band's club.” Rayshele: “Are they so cutthroat that they want to play dirty like that?” I’m sorry, but yes. It sucks, doesn’t it? “I’m gonna fucking smack somebody.” As long as it’s not me.
Over at the “Twelve at 12th,” Mindy Smith, a local folk musician, plays a couple of songs. SOULCRACKER is smitten. She’s cute, and she sounds pretty good. Ramsey: “That was the first moment I realized what kind of talent was in town here.” When she’s done, it’s HARLOW’s turn to play, but they haven’t arrived yet, so SOULCRACKER, being themselves, try to set up. Beastie: “We didn’t think HARLOW would even show up. We didn’t think they’d be willing to do the work, set up, tune their instruments.” Oh. My. God. Shut up, Beastie. Just don’t speak. Please. HARLOW gets there, and they’re pissed. John, the owner, keeps CRACKHEAD from playing (for now), and HARLOW gets on. Rayshele: “I really didn’t like having SOULCRACKER there when we were playing. They were sitting all in the front row.” Rebecca wants to tell them, “You suck. This is war. I thought you guys were cool for, like, five minutes but I don’t anymore so don’t talk to us, fuck off, we’re gonna kick your asses. They’re probably gonna win anyway 'cause they're such pussies.” Word. Rayshele: “They’re gonna win, I know they are, 'cause they just care about winning so much. I wish they would just back off.” Totally. I can’t believe that in Nashville SOULCRACKER can’t find another place to play and be fair. Luckily, the MC introduces CRACK as the bad guys. Everyone boos them. Nice.
After CRACK plays, HARLOW brings it on. Beastie: “HARLOW thought we were stabbing them in the back and that we had mean intentions in playing at their show.” Dude, you just said “their show.” Doesn’t take a genius. Do you not realize you’re being filmed being a jerk? God.
Anyway, Bob is talking to Chimene. “I don’t want you guys to think we’re invading your space.” “Well, you are.” Heh. “I think you’re a really bad guy.” “I think you’re a little drunk, sweetheart.” "Sweetheart"? She should punch him, but she just walks away. Like me, she’s sick of Bob and his bullshit.
Fletcher and Dominic are going out. Unfortunately, they meet up with the lady from earlier who was ever so proud of her, um, chestal girth. Fletcher is none too pleased. Dom: “As soon as we got in there, boy, she latched onto him.” He ain’t kidding. This woman, who since we last saw her decided to don a necklace with a plastic nude woman’s torso on it, is all over Fletcher. She’s completely tossed, her hair is matted against her forehead with sweat, and she clearly has no idea how to seduce a man. I am embarrassed for her. She keeps lap-dancing and Fletcher keeps laughing, not mean-spiritedly, but more out of confusion and embarrassment. He gets her to take off her bra as a dare, which she does. They get kicked out of the bar. That’s hilarious. Dominic: “We got the bra and sold the CDs, and that’s all that matters.” Was it really worth it?
So for once, FLICK is in the lead for merch:
FLICK -- $120
HARLOW -- $60
JERKS -- $25 (Heh.)
Sutton misses his girlfriend. “When I try to call her and I can’t talk to her, I get needy.” Okay. I didn’t know this guy even had a girlfriend. Didn’t he just leave his wife (for the second time)? Whatever.
It’s 2:30 PM, and Chimene is just waking up (with her booty call from last night). “Some of the bands are doing better with sales, while some of us are doing better with, um, booty.” True. Rebecca still doesn’t know what to do for the country song. Chimene suggests, “I wanna bagga dope, I wanna bagga dope, I wanna bagga dope oh boy.” I think it’s a bad idea.
FLICK is working their song out. It’s actually a song Cory wrote years ago and wants to sing. There’s one problem: Cory can’t sing. Sounds kinda crappy, but not intolerable. Dom: “He really wants to sing, he really tries, but it’s horrible.” Agreed.
CRACKER’s song is practically done, and they’ve got four-part harmonies to boot. Doesn’t make them suck any less.
Rebecca: “I think my attempt at a country-western song was less than an inspiration.” Well, seeing as how the entire band is still in bed and it’s 5:00 PM, yeah. Becks gets all pissed because nobody’s helping her. Chimene gives her some weak excuse like “well, you kind of took off with it” just because she’s lazy and doesn’t want to write a song. She keeps saying, “I could write a song in five minutes.” Well, why don’t you, if it’s so easy? Huh? Not. I’m with Rebecca. If my band were this lazy (if I had one), I’d get vexed. In fact, this is why I’m not in a band right now. Anyway, Rebecca and Chimene continue to beef with one another about the same crap. Bo-ring.
There’s a showcase for all the bands at the Exit/In. In the rehearsal room, SOULCRACKER is practicing their song as FLICK watches. Cory has some last-minute doubts about the country song and decides he doesn’t want to do it. Brandin: “We just decided that VH1 can keep the hundred bucks and we don’t have to look like idiots more than we already do.” Works for me, dude. FLICK plays their normal songs.
HARLOW shows up late, naturally, and Billy Block (the MC) tells them he gave their slot to someone else. He admits he’s just razzin’ them, and gets them onstage lickety-split. Nobody claps. Nobody likes their music. Chimene mentions how she felt sick and nervous about a string popping or forgetting a chord change. Yeah, I can imagine playing in Nashville would create just a little pressure. She did fine, though.
SOULCRACKER plays their country tune and brings the house down. Their song totally kicks ass, and it sounds awesome with the lapsteel guitar. At the end of the song, they start rocking so hard that Dale Reno from Hayseed Dixie starts jamming with them on the mandolin. Pretty awesome, I gotta say. I may hate the guys, but the song rocks. Beastie didn’t sing in it; maybe that’s why. The other bands even give it up. Rebecca: “SOULCRACKER’s country song kicked serious country ass.” Fletcher: “I was really impressed.” Chimene: “But I still hate Bob.” I’m with you, girlfriend. So is Rebecca. And everyone else, everywhere in the world.
Another merch glimpse:
FLICK -- $120
HARLOW -- $153
SOULCRACKER -- $110
FLICK is slacking on promotions. Cory and Brandin are doing laundry. Brandin: “We’ve definitely hit a bit of a lull. After Columbus we were so wiped and emotionally exhausted 'cause we were expecting to go home.” Still, dude, if you don’t sell that merch, you’re going to lose. Better get on that, guy.
SOULCRACKER goes to a mall. They play their dumb little songs on their dumb little guitars. Nobody really seems to pay them any attention. Good, I say.
Brandin mentions that he wants to play a Mazzy Star song. Good luck with that, dude. I mean, I actually like the song, so don’t screw it up and do something stupid like asking some random girl who can’t sing to do back-up. Thanks, bro.
Over at the Exit/In, Rebecca and Chimene are still working out the country song. It doesn’t seem like it’s coming along very smoothly. Rebecca: “I’m going to pretty much make up the lyrics as we go along.” Great. That’s a great idea. I can’t believe nobody thought of that. Not. It’s a bad idea. Whatever, just as long as you get to see the bling bling, nawm sain?
FLICK is over at JackLegs, their venue. There is nobody there. So, in true FLICKERSTICK form, they go out on the street and grab people within twenty minutes of performing. I love these guys, man. I’m so psyched for Wednesday. Dude, is Dominic really attractive? I can’t tell, but he seems to have this effect on women. It’s crazy. What is it about him? His rugged good looks, his surly demeanor? Whatever; apparently, it works. ["Okay, here's a girl's perspective. Yeah, we know that he's a sleaze, but if I hadn't seen the show, I might go with him -- he's really personable and goofy-seeming, and he has great arms, plus he's not as intimidatingly good-looking as Corey. Plus, chicks looooove the drummer. I don't know why, but we do. It's, like, a universal law." -- Sars] Fletcher: “It seems to be our strategy to get people twenty minutes before we play. I think it worked okay.” Word.
HARLOW got some bodily mutilation guy to open for them. Pretty awesome. This guy chops celery on his chest, sews into his arm with needle and thread, hangs weights from his nipples, hammers nails into his nose and tongue, and eats metal shavings. There’s a picture of this guy to the definition of "cute" in Webster’s Ninth. Not, there isn’t. Rebecca: “He hung irons from his testicles. Need I say more.” Yes! How can I contact him? Not.
SOULCRACKER got Mindy Smith to open for them. As soon as she’s done, everyone who’s there to see her leaves. Bwa ha ha! You suck, CRACK! Nobody even claps when they’re done playing. Good.
HARLOW does their country song, and it is horrendous. Rebecca actually has to scream out “chorus” so the others will do the changes right. Regardless, they’re getting their hundred buckaroos. Okay, someone kill me for using the word “buckaroos.” I’m serious, that’s really lame. Rebecca defends herself: “My song may not have been the greatest, but I sang it with my heart, and isn’t that what country music’s all about?” Yes. That, and talent. Talent helps.
FLICK is about to play, and they’ve got some random girl (apparently a local “solo artist,” which I find hard to swallow) to sing backup for the Mazzy Star song. The song sounds terrible (didn’t I warn you, FLICK?). Whatever; they’re still my favorite band on this show. They better not play that at Brownies, though.
Time to find out how everyone did in Nashville. Brendon and Katina report:
Ticket Sales:
FLICK -- $260
HARLOW -- $162
CRACKHO -- $132
Merchandise:
FLICK -- $265
HARLOW -- $153
SOULCRACKER -- $174
CRACK and HARLOW get $100 extra for their country tunes.
Totals:
FLICK -- $4886
HARLOW -- $5509
CRACK -- $5738 (Not! Why are they still winning!?!)
Chimene tells Beastie that originally HARLOW hated AP, but now they realize the anger was all misdirected. “We only hate Bob.” Beastie of course reveals this to Bob in the van. Bob: “I’m hated?” Like it’s such a surprise, buttlock. “What a bunch of whores!” Yeah, Bob, you’re just a pontiff of purity. Get a life, dude. When you start playing your own shows, then you can bitch. But for now, just shut up. “I just can’t believe it when people are nice to me up front, then talk shit about me behind my back.” As if they don’t have reason -- and furthermore, Chimene did talk shit to your face, and you condescended to her, so what. Ever. Everyone else plays fair, why can’t you? Are you above it? Shut up, Bob. You too, Beastie. Your Captain Righteous act is tired and transparent. Give it up.
That’s it for this week.
week, it’s Memphis, baby! More beef between and HARLOW and CRACKER (who get to play Bally’s, those bastards). El Dangeroso makes a triumphant return, Reyshele seems to think she is being used as a novelty (?), and there’s a-boffin’ goin’ on in FLICK’s bathroom once again. Let’s just hope it’s not Fletcher. Or, let’s hope it is. Tee hee!