The calm before the storm

It's been pretty quiet the last couple of weeks for The Staylyns. We needed a breather since our marathon Spring Break/St. Patrick's Day weekend. We had three great shows that weekend and covered a lot of miles. But we're going to have to put on our rock n' roll stretch pants, because that weekend was just an appetizer for the giant show buffet that's going to be April.

We're probably going to fight over which
one of us gets to wear these on stage at some point.

Handmade, bandmade

Have you ever bought a shirt at a concert, and later when you put it on, you thought, "This shirt is just another machine-made, carbon-copy garment, cranked out by some t-shirt company in between orders for softball team jerseys and church-logo polo shirts. Does the band even know what's being sold in their name? I'm not sure I can even wear this."

I know. It's like I'm in your head.

Well, rest assured, when you buy a Staylyns t-shirt, you are getting a handmade, bandmade work of art, crafted by your favorite rockers with their very own hands. That's right - we make every t-shirt we sell!

Why am I telling you this? Because we are about to embark on a whirlwind weekend of 3 shows in 3 cities in 4 days (Pleasure Pier in Galveston, Thursday, 3/14, 6-10pm; Kemah Boardwalk, Friday, 3/15, 1-5pm; and Pluckers in Round Rock, Sunday, 3/17, 4-6pm), and Johnny and Joey prepared for this little tour by restocking our inventory of shirts. Here's how it's done:

Caaaaaarefully set the screen juuuuuuust so on a white tee.

Frat party

If you are a musician, you read the title to this post, and you involuntarily made a sour face. I'm making one right now just typing about it. Go ahead - ask any band you know.

See that look they just made? That's it. That's the face. They can't help it. They're being flooded with memories of mayhem and vomit.

If you're 19, mayhem and vomit may sound fun. But when you're trying to work in the midst of it, and you've got thousands of dollars worth of equipment in the direct line of fire of it, it's way less fun.

That's how Johnny and I spent this past Saturday - trying to protect our beloved sound system from the drunken destruction of a frat party.