Category: Biography

Part Three: Utah Carol Tour in Europe 2002

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A typical van-interior panorama…

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Setting up at Schokoladen.

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On stage at Schokoladen.

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Live in cramped quarters at Subrosa.

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Frits, Master of Merch.

image“Why JinJa’s keyboard makes noise.”

image image image image image image image image image image image image image image imageSylvie Simmons, Neal, JinJa and Grant (Utah Carol)
Live at the Golden Pudel.
More Golden Pudel action.
The Golden Pudel’s hipster clientele.
“We claim this cigarette machine for Utah Carol.”
At the Aloha interview in Amsterdam.
The radio session…
Knocking ’em dead at the Crossing Border festival.
Grant on stage at the Musician in Leicester.
Grant and JinJa at the Virgin Radio session.
Tearing up the stage at The Borderline.
JinJa deep in concentration.

All photos kindly provided by and © Hayley Murphy of Hayley Murphy Photography. For more information, please contact hayley@murphy.ms.

Utah Carol are JinJa Davis and Grant Birkenbeuel. Their two albums, Comfort for the Traveler and Wonderwheel, are longtime favorites ’round the Splendid office. Munich Records recently licensed the album for European release, and the band has just embarked on its first-ever European tour to support it.
JinJa and Grant will be playing at good clubs all around Europe and will also be visiting different radio stations and appearing on national television shows. They’ll be accompanied by Frits (tour manager), David Kemper (bassist) and Greg Wyser-Pratte (drummer). Hayley Murphy of Hayley Murphy Photography is documenting the tour, and has very kindly provided us with photos. Visit her web site at http://www.hayleymurphyphotography.com. The actual diary entries are written by JinJa.

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Editor’s Note: We normally attempt to date each entry — but as you’ll soon discover, JinJa lost track the date. We’ve identified the entries by where the band is, rather than when…

Germany
Hi! My name is Ingwer!

That’s German for ginger the spice. It’s the closest that the Germans can get to JinJa. Since my name is of Asian and African origin there is no translation or pronunciation in German or Dutch. In Spain, my name was pronounced Heen Haa! You can translate the pronunciation in Spanish. Grant was easy: Grant is Grant in any language.

The first town that we stopped in was Giessen, which is located in the former West Germany. It is a very modern town, a little bland, not at all what I was expecting. Perhaps Germany has been so rebuilt that nothing old remains. We had to drive around for a while to find a cheap hotel. Since we are doing so much driving, we have had to find some of our hotels on the fly. This town in particular was very expensive: $100 a night for a double. Yikes! We finally found a cheaper place with two triples. Grant, Hayley and I are sharing a room and then Greg, David and Frits are sharing a room to save money. In Europe, you can find triples easily and often; they are set up with the double (two mattresses stuck together) in one room and then a single bed in a separate area. It works out great for Grant and me, but the guys have to take off the mattress from the double and put one on the floor. Frits joked to someone that American men don’t share beds unless they are a couple — which is true. I guess in Europe it’s different. We walked around town for a bit after dinner to look for an Internet café. The café was in an alley in the center of town. Inside, it was pretty hip: lots of really cool techno electronica music playing — which I love, but Grant hates. I asked the guy at the desk where I could find a cool German dance club, and he said Frankfurt. We had already passed it, unfortunately.

The next day we got on the road again to Berlin. It was sunny and beautiful on the way. The scenery was fantastic. We stopped at the petro stations to pee. People say to pee here. In Europe, people hang out and party at the petro stations. The bathrooms are much better than in the States: they are clean, big and most of them have an attendant on duty who expects a tip. Hayley was crabby about that; she didn’t want to pay to pee. At one stop, Grant and Greg came out of the bathroom and realized that they had only 30 cents between them, so the German woman attendant got really pissed. It was a scary moment for them. Ha!

Frits said that our club was in the former East Germany. Along the way he gave us a history lesson about East and West Germany. He used to live in West Germany with his former girlfriend and their daughter when the Berlin Wall was up. He told us that he used to turn his radio from his window and blast it towards the East Germans to let them hear music. He said that the politicians and corporations had nothing to do with the wall coming down — it was the power of the common people that changed the world. I told him that if you lived in the United States, you would think that Ronald Reagan was the sole reason that the wall fell, the cold war ended and we had — albeit until now — total economic recovery. I had never heard Frits laugh so hard until then!

Berlin
We made it into Berlin. It was frigidly cold — we still had Spain and France in our hearts and on our skin. Frits hadn’t been to Germany in years, so he was curious to see what had changed. As we were driving through the streets, he was pointing out all the WWII landmarks and giving us history lessons. How come the Europeans are so much more informed about stuff than we are? It’s embarrassing. Maybe I should speak for myself, though, because we discovered during our tour that David knew a lot about WWII and the Germans. Anyhow, Frits was amazed at all the big, new construction that had been built literally over what used to be the Berlin Wall. One simply wouldn’t have any idea at the history of the place, looking at the new coffee shops, restaurants and small boutiques. Nobody wants to remember any of it, I guess. Personally, I was getting chills all up and down my spine thinking about it.

The architecture in former East Berlin looks like the Chicago Housing Projects to me! Frits explained that the buildings were built for the “common people.” We also noticed more graffitti in Berlin than in some of the worst neighborhoods in Chicago! Where are Mayor Daley’s Graffitti Busters team when you need them?

We get to Schokoladen, the club, and our soundman had a Slipknot T-shirt, a shaved head and lots of body piercings and tattoos. It made me a little nervous. I was debating whether we were in the right club. The vibe there was literally 180 degrees from Spain. We stayed optimistic, though. We got our stuff, set up and of course, my equipment was making loud, funny noises during sound check. Ugh! Why me again and again? Oh well. Frits was there to save the day, as usual. After we finished the soundcheck, we got out of the club and went to our promoter Stephan’s house. He was giving us his flat for the night and making us a home-cooked meal. Along the way to his place, we saw Utah Carol posters that Stephan had put up all over the street poles and walls. It was really cool. When we arrived at Stephan’s place, we were welcomed to a warm and cozy pad filled with the smell of garlic and onions. He made us gnocchi with tomatoes, zucchini, onions, garlic and chili peppers, along with a fresh salad. Absolutely the best meal that we had all tour so far. Stephan is quite the cook! Grant and I gave him some nice Middle Eastern incense that I had bought in the States as a thank you for his hospitality. He was playing groovy music, too — something new from Munich Records, actually: John Gil. The singer reminds me of M. Ward or Nick Drake.

After dinner, Frits rushed us back to the club where there were already tons of people waiting. We started the show: my keyboard and amp were messing up, Grant’s guitar amp wouldn’t work, David decided to take off his shoes and socks during the performance, Hayley was crouched and hiding in a corner on stage taking pictures. It was a strange night. The crowd was a lot different than what we had experienced so far on the tour — a little distant and reserved — but I think that they liked it. Anyway, we finished the show, took some pictures and then went back to Stephan’s flat and crashed. Next morning, he had breakfast for us: cheese and salami. What a sweetie, that Stephan!

Before going back on the road, we stopped off to look at Checkpoint Charlie near the former Berlin Wall. (Checkpoint Charlie was the USA section of the border patrol. Bizarre, just bizarre.) We finally found the row of cobblestones lining the street that indicated where the wall used to be. At the end of one section was a mini outdoor museum, with images placed in chronological order, of some of the horrors and inhumanity that happened to the Jews in Germany. Very, very depressing and awful. I don’t even want to write about it here in our diary. It makes me feel really bad. We didn’t stay very long because none of us could get through the exhibit — it was sickening.

Dortmund, Germany
We headed out to go to Dortmund and slept the whole way. The van is now getting really uncomfortable. Greg said that the honeymoon is over. We gotta get out of this place!

We finally get to the club, Subrosa. The club was delightful! It was so so cool! Lots of stuff on the walls, lots of colors, objects, knick-knacks, pictures; they were playing good music as we walked and there was hot tea and cucumber and cheese sandwiches. Cornel, the manager, met us at the door. He had a long ponytail. Whenever I see men with long hair or a long ponytail, I know that they are going to be cool. We all immediately felt comfortable. He gave us an entire apartment for the group with a kitchen stocked with fruit, cheeses and of course an electric kettle for tea.

The club was intimate, our show was intense and quiet, everyone enjoyed our performance and we enjoyed playing it. It was probably our most relaxed performance since Brussels. We performed “Find a Way” for the first time. Hayley got the best photos from Subrosa, mostly because the decorating in the bar was unique and the lighting was warm and colorful. She had a ball. She’s fun, because whenever I look out from the stage, she’s out there grinning at us. Grant and I hung out after the show with a couple that had traveled a long way to see us. We talked for an hour about music, houses, living in the forest — they were really nice people. Everything is so far away, I am “certain” that this is a dream.

The next morning, Hayley wanted to wash her hair and use my dual voltage hair dryer. She was starting to freak out because she couldn’t blow dry her hair. Of course, when she plugged it into Frits’s converter, it not only didn’t work, but the machine started to smoke. Shit, shit, shit again! Frits would be mad, as this converter is my back-up backline for the keyboard. Frits tries so hard to keep a tight ship with our group, but it’s tough because we all have different personalities — and he’s traveling with two women!

Anyway, Grant, Hayley and I took a walk to find a laundromat to wash our dirty 15-day-old clothes. We had to walk for 20 minutes into the center of town because there was only one laundromat! It was crazy! Then, once again, we trekked to find Internet access — always a saga.

We had to be back by a certain time, otherwise Frits would have our asses on a sling, so Grant ran ahead of us to keep the “Iron Man” at bay. Hayley said she knew how to get back to the Subrosa. I had no clue. Of course, we got totally lost! The streets curve and twist around in Europe, so our sense of direction is slightly messed up. We walked in circles for a while, and then I finally got my bearings and figured out how to get back to the club. We started walking and then I realized that I left my big info binder at the Internet café. Shit! We would never get back in time and we knew that Frits would kick our asses. Hayley and I had to go back, around and around and around. Oy vey! People knew that we were tourists and lost. We took a taxi and asked the driver to drop us off a block away from the club because we were so embarrassed. Grant was standing there in front of the van with his arms folded, tapping his wristwatch, pissed at me that we were late again. Hayley was like, he ain’t my husband so he won’t be pissed at me! And then Frits was irritated too, and even more so when he found out that his converter was busted. Poor Frits! All he wants is for us to be on time to the gigs and not break anything. Oh well. Whatever. Shit happens, all the time.

We said goodbye to Cornel and hit the road again, this time to Munster. This was a short trip, thankfully. When we arrived in Munster, we noticed that the young people’s faces were fresh, bright and full of light — a college town no less! Gleis 22, the venue, put us up in a clean hotel with an elevator. Frits wanted his own room this time, and complained that it wasn’t fair that Hayley always gets her own room. I suppose he’s sick of sleeping with two other men. I don’t blame him at all — he needs peace and his beauty sleep so that he can be fresh for the next drive.

Munster, Germany
The club was a small cafeteria that had free Internet access! Yeah! I can send an email to Splendid! We unloaded all of our gear, which at this point is getting heavier and heavier. The headlining band, Botanica, was late, so we had to wait for them before we could soundcheck (we were going to share the backline). While we were waiting, we met a band called Belasco from England. This was our first gig playing with other bands. All of our other shows, we were the only act.

Botanica showed up and we got everything going. The soundcheck went okay. Greg unfortunately had to use Botanica’s kit, which he didn’t like at all, and David had to use their bass amp, which he didn’t like either. My shit was making funny noises again; earlier, Frits, my personal handyman, repaired my keyboard amp. It is a crappy amp, plus we found out that one of the connections in my Korg is bad and one of the inputs on my sampler is broken. Why me?

The venue prepared a wonderful meatless meal for us: fresh tomato, lama beans and cheese, cucumber, olive, pepper and nut salad, and then a bread pudding for dessert. Grant and I didn’t eat much before performing, but this food was really nice.

Munich Records was to be at this show; we haven’t met them up to this point. Grant and I were very nervous. We didn’t want to make any mistakes in front of Munich, so to be honest, we were a bit uptight. They showed up and took us out for a drink at Butts, a pub across the street. I felt like I was meeting with clients back in Chicago, I had to be on my As and As. They gave us a bunch of copies of all the great press we’ve gotten over the past few months, told us things were going well, talked about the new bands that they have picked up recently…it was fine. Grant and I were frigging nervous. Anyhow, we left to do our show. Belasco was still playing when we got inside — they sounded great! They told us that a label affiliated with EMI just signed them and that they were going on tour next spring in a giant tour bus. They just finished up a new album in the studio.

Our show was just okay. The sound was set up for a rock band, I think, not for subtle Utah Carol music. We worked through it. While we were performing, Botanica kept coming up on stage to get to the dressing room — it was very distracting to us! Oh well. We did get some new fans though at the show, which is why we are here: to introduce Europeans to Utah Carol.

Next morning, we took a walk into the main town. Greg said that it was worth going if only just to look at the gigantic churches. Hayley, Grant and I took a walk — I was starving as usual. The whole trip I was starving, pretty much. All I have to say is that I  don’t eat much McDonalds, but when I saw those arches in the distance, I ran straight towards it at light speed to get a McMuffin with no bacon. (We have not been able to find an American-style breakfast here in Europe: no pancakes, omelets; We need Wishbone! We need Flo! We need International Pancake house!) After I ate it, I was totally grossed out. Grant was disgusted that I actually ate at a McDonald’s. Hayley was on a mission to find a hat. She didn’t bring her camera with her this time, so we were all just hanging loose. Everything is nuts, absolutely nuts.

We stopped at a teashop where I picked up some nice loose tea. We didn’t have much time again, so we started to head back. We got lost. Grant was blaming me… We were only a few minutes late this time, but still, we were late! Grant hates to be late, but I am always late so then he’s late. Whatever.

Leaving Munster for Hamburg
Boring van ride. Nothing interesting. Lots of sleeping and quiet time. I have been singing “Christian Life”, “Cheatin’ Heart”, “I’m So Lonesome” and then that Joan Baez tune that goes: “Don’t sing love songs, they’ll wake my mother, she’s sleeping here, right by my side, and in her right hand a silver dagger, she says that I can’t be your wife. All men are false, says my mother, they’ll give you wicked love and lies…” I love that song.

Arrived in Hamburg in the red light district. Frits told us that we were staying right in the middle of it. Our hotel was disgusting, but cheap. Ugh! The place was funky with cigarette smoke. No carpet anywhere on the floors…need I explain why? We couldn’t wait to get out of that place. This is the only place that we have stayed that we really really didn’t like.

Grant, Hayley and me decided to go out to get food before the gig. Our gig wasn’t going to be until midnight, and even though the venue was providing us with dinner, we didn’t want to perform on a full stomach. Our walk to the restaurant was very interesting; we have never seen so many sex shops all in one place, ever — blocks and blocks of it. The toys, the goods, the clothes, the pimps, the peep shows, the women. And then, everywhere you see the American corporations: McDonalds, Coca-Cola, Burger King and Pizza Hut. We finally found a nice Italian restaurant where no one spoke English, only Italian and German. It was so cool! Hayley and I shared a delicious combination pasta plate, Grant had a wonderful mixed fish grill. It was pretty peaceful.

Our show was at The Golden Pudel. It was a yellow brick shack that looked abandoned and run down. Next door was a garbage pile. Frits was walking around the place with a flashlight to see if anyone was home while we all huddled in the car trying to keep warm. Our promoter finally showed up, a nice big Santa Claus looking fellow with a big nice smile. He let us inside and made me some tea right away. The place is a dive, but it’s one of those dives that everyone goes to because it’s hip! Frits planned out how we would set up (damn is he good! He’s always so together for us!). The flimsy stage was only big enough to hold the drum kit, Greg, David and his bass amp. Grant and me were below on the floor. The whole time I kept thinking about what my mother warned me: “JinJa, now you watch out for those stages in Europe! I hear that people fall through the stages over there all the time!”

The monitors for our vocals were nonexistent, but you know what? We didn’t really care. We knew that the show would be really cool. This was the funkiest and coolest place that we had played in so far. We soundchecked for a few minutes, then Viktor the sound guy took us to dinner at Kochsalon, a restaurant down the street. We weren’t hungry, but the boys (Greg, Frits and David) were, so we went with. The place was awesome — the food was eclectic, like some of the places that we eat at in Chicago: risotto with artichokes, beef stroganoff, baby green salad, and to top it off, they had a live DJ spinning records. Greg was in hog heaven; he eats like five or six times a day. Generally during the tour, his only concern is where is his next meal! He’s a butter freak too, because he kept talking about how good the butter is in Germany. Anyway, Viktor told us that the red light district was where all the musicians, artists and writers live and work because it is cheap.

We walked back to the Pudel. There weren’t that many people there yet, but at about 12:30 a.m. we got on stage. The place was starting to fill up. We started the set and discovered too late that Grant’s microphone didn’t work. Our sound guy was at the back drinking with the townies, so I was singing by myself for a while. The sound guy finally came to help; in the meantime, we did an instrumental… “Soda Fountain”. By then, the house was full. It was a lot of fun. I told people to come on up and dance and they did. They were having a really good time, which meant that we had a really good time too. The crowd was awesome again. We did one encore, and there was one guy in the audience that was screaming “Just one more! One more!” It was great, although I think that he was a friend of Frits’s. He told us later that he had more fun at our show than at Paul Weller’s show! Holy toledo!

After we got off the stage, the DJ came out to spin vintage American soul music and the crowd kept dancing. We hung out for a while with our promoters and publicists Christian (Volumne 11) and his wife and sweet Stephan from Berlin. David ran off, as usual, to chat with the Europeans about history, Greg was observing everything, checking out the scene trying to figure out what to do about his drum kit (he threw out his back so he couldn’t lift his equipment anymore), Frits was trying to sell our merchandise, Hayley was having her German beer, Grant was packing up his stuff, forever organizing and planning for the next gig already and I was in a daze as I usually am after performing.

After about a half an hour, it occurred to us that we had to get up at 8:00 to leave at 9:00 for Amsterdam. Here we go again.

One thing for sure is that I knew that we were going to work really hard over here, but I had no idea that it was going to be like this for us: Go! Go! Go! Run, sleep now, eat now, get up, wake up, find Internet! Stand up, pack the van, dammit, don’t just stand there, sing well and in key, don’t fuck up your guitar/bass/drum/organ part ’cause so and so is in the audience!, talk during the break, don’t say a word during the breaks!, get in the van, drive, hurry, take a picture…didja get it? Every single second, no rest, no break, ever. Holy shit. But we’d all do it all over again.

Sooooooo, we had to get our stuff out of the club — but the bad thing was that the place was jammed with people. It was going to be a bitch getting our stuff out. In fact, I was getting a little nervous because we could barely move and people were getting more drunk by the minute. A few fans held Grant and me captive for about 30 minutes. Frits told me to just get everything and push through the crowd. We did our best to get out, but unfortunately there was a guy at the club that was ripped, drunk and aggressive. He was elbowing people, and trying to start a fight. Reminded me of the Lincoln Parker’s at Wrigley Field after a game — you know, all that testosterone stuff.

Hayley, poor Hayley, got grabbed by this guy and he wouldn’t let her go. She cried out for help, and then that’s when all hell broke lose — the guy went ballistic, started fighting outside. I didn’t know what was happening with Hayley, but I saw the fight start so I got the hell out of there. Being from the US, my first thought was “He’s gonna have a gun and we’re all gonna get shot.” Then Greg was like “Hayley was just attacked.” So I ran to look for her and found her hiding in the van and I started screaming: “What happened?” Then I couldn’t find Grant, so I starting screaming again: “Where’s my husband?” I couldn’t find him and I was about to run back inside like a mother does when she’s rescuing her child from a burning building, but he was outside, thankfully. But then I hung out in the car with Hayley until things calmed down. Frits called the cops, but when we saw them coming, they sped past the venue. Clueless, they were. In the meantime, amidst all the confusion, as Hayley and I were huddled in the van, right outside the van window, two people were going at it slobbering all over the place big time like there was no tomorrow. It was actually pretty cool watching it as it added some European levity to the situation. The German police finally came back, but by then everything was calm.

Back at the nasty hotel, we crashed. Got up the next day at 8:00 and we were on the road to Amsterdam by 9:00. We are all pretty much sleeping in the van. The roads and countries are starting to blend together. The petro stops all look the same. I can’t remember anymore where we’ve been or where we are going. I don’t even know what day it is. All I know is that we are on the road again.

Holland
When we arrived in Holland, it was overcast and raining, but still, it felt like the sun came out to greet us with its golden rays. We were met with smiling Dutch faces in the petro station. This is the country where it all happens for us: Bart Ebisch, our biggest Dutch fan; Munich Records, our label; and our Dutch fans. Grant and me were so happy to be here. Everyone — and I mean everyone — speaks English here, which is totally bizarre.

We drive into Amsterdam, where immediately we were welcomed into stunning beauty. The city is filled with beautiful canals, old winding cobblestone streets, bicycle riders, electric trains and charming architecture…not to mention all the pretty Dutch people.

The Hotel Quentin near the venue said we didn’t have a reservation. This really sucked, because in Europe, there are stairs everywhere you go and all six of us had just lugged all of our suitcases up these narrow tall stairs to get to the hotel. Frits was pissed off about it, since he said that the hotel screwed up the reservation. The woman at the counter said: “It’s not my problem, then, is it?” It’s only because we’ve been on the road for so long that we are all tired and frustrated.

The new hotel (also called Hotel Quentin) was remarkably small, but it was bright and clean. We all shared rooms again to save money. We didn’t have much time here, so we were once again busting our butts to get ready for the show. We had lots going on: interview with Aloha magazine, a live radio show, the Crossing Border gig and then another interview with a student newspaper. Grant and I are trying to savor these experiences, but everything is happening so fast that it’s hard to take time out. But at least we have a lot of it on tape and on camera.

The Crossing Border Festival is huge. It is held in multiple venues. Our gig was being held in the Melkweg Theater in Amsterdam. Someone met us at the door to help us unload everything and show us around. It was organized and everyone was helpful. We unloaded all of our gear and went up to the stage. The room our show was in was huge, a lot like the TV show that we taped in Spain. There were multiple bands, writers, poets playing at the festival — it was thrilling. We heard J. Mascis sound checking next door. The Mekons were performing somewhere near; we had seem Jon Langford and Sally Timms earlier. David Sedaris, the author, was giving a reading. We were wishing that we had more time to stay to see some of it, but we were under the gun with our schedule and we had a lot of responsibility on tour. Hayley went out and grabbed us all Burger King (Grant and I never ever eat this shit back home but what can you do?). Grant wouldn’t let me eat until after soundcheck. I was so pissed off about that. The sound check went well, my equipment worked just fine. Frits was happy to be home — he disappeared for a while…probably to catch up with his girlfriend Sylvie!

After the soundcheck, we had to unhook our equipment and take it over to the radio show to tape a performance. Hayley’s friends from Chicago showed up. They were on vacation. We got them a pass through the festival — she cried when she saw them. We met sweet Bart Ebisch in person finally after all these years of talking by phone and email. It was like we’d known him all our lives. We also met Rob and Hilde, our booking agents.

At the radio gig, we had some technical difficulties because we had headphones on the whole time and Grant and I couldn’t hear ourselves. Also, I thought that someone had stolen my Zip disk, so I was running around freaking out because I couldn’t find it. I eventually did, but I had to apologize to the Dutch for being so frantic. I don’t think that they have frantic people in Holland. We performed “Misfits”, “Boon”, “Cluttered Mind” and “Airplanes” on the radio show. We played well and the crowd was appreciative. It was a good warm up for the gig too. Grant, me and Hayley then ran to do the interview with Aloha magazine. Grant was mentally fried during the interview but I was able to step up. We were supposed to do an interview with the other Dutch publication, OOR, but the journalist wasn’t able to make it out to see us.

Amsterdam is a blur. It’s like your wedding day that you can’t remember because everything happens so quickly and you have to depend on your wedding album to remember it all. Than goodness Hayley Murphy Photography is here.

Before our main show, Grant and I ran back to the hotel to change. I was worried that my hair was getting fucked up because of the rain. All my life, my hair has been a saga! Valincia, my hairstylist from Ajés Salon back home in Chicago, thankfully gave me a humidity proof hairdo that worked really, really well for the rigors of being on the road. I had no bad hair days! I swear, when we get rich and famous, I will have Valincia on tour with us doing my make up and hair every single day!

Anyway, the rain in Amsterdam was amazing; we got totally drenched. I couldn’t decide what to wear, and Grant was putting the set list together again so he was offering no fashion assistance to me. For some reason, Grant kept losing the set lists all tour, so he had to write them up before every single show. The bad thing about that is we have been using the backs of the copies of our passports to write them out. I hope no one steals our identities. We ran back to the venue and then it was gig time — we hit the stage running. We were told that we only had 45 minutes to do our set. We cranked it up and had a ball. The house was pretty full and most of the crowd stayed through our whole set. Imagine that — J. Mascis was performing next door, and we had an almost packed house just for us! Bite me, J. Mascis!

After the show, we met a singer/songwriter who was performing an acoustic show after us. I can’t for the life of me remember her name, but she was beautiful: half Japanese, from LA, and had a gorgeous voice. She was recently signed to a Sony or Warner, I think. So, so many things to do, people to meet and places to go…

Our gig at the festival was probably our tightest performance so far. The audience cheered us on, and people were responding well to our songs. After the show, we sold some of CDs, signed a few albums and talked to some fans. We hung out for a while with a young Dutch snowboarder/surfer boy who through his career suffered four concussions! Our label was very pleased with our show. Afterwards, Hayley took the night off and got a break from Grant and me — after all, she’s been living with us out of her suitcase for almost 15 days so far. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to spend tons of time with Grant and me! David disappeared again after the show. Where does he go? What does he do? Who does he see? He disappears in more ways than one from us. Like when we are in the van, he can go for two maybe three days and not speak a single syllable. Hayley and I drove him to the brink of insanity with our chatter. I mean, I can talk my ass off and send anyone flying over the cliff, but with Hayley, I met my match!

Greg was the only one who went walking around to see some other bands. Grant and I hung out to do one last interview with a girl named Patti for her student newspaper. We then packed up our stuff and went to the red light district for a quick tour. Red light! Oh yeah!

Wow. I feel like we are in a dream, this is unbelievable. I can’t believe that Grant and I are here. This is lovely.

Leaving the Quentin Hotel
The next morning we packed our stuff and headed out to the town for a few minutes before leaving Amsterdam. Grant and I are both certain that we will be back to Amsterdam soon because we didn’t even have 24 hours in the city! Anyway, I had to have my tea, so Grant and I went out to look again for a nice spot. I was mad at Grant because I wanted to have breakfast, and I found a place that had pancakes, but we didn’t have time. Like it was his fault — but still, I had to blame someone!

We got back to the van and were about to leave when Hayley, who has the back up keys for the van, realized that she left them with her friends last night. So, of course, Frits kinda went nuts with that whole thing.

Whatever… We decided to leave without the keys and have Hayley’s friends bring them to Frits’s partner Sylvie.

We start to drive again. My butt hurts already.

Leaving Amsterdam, we felt very sad. All of us wanted to stay for a while longer. Bye Bart!

Taking the ferry To England!
We drove through three countries today — Holland, Belgium and France — to get to the ferry to England. The Holland country-scape is very nice and peaceful. We even saw a traditional wooden windmill. Being on the road like this, you start to crave the mayonnaise sandwiches at the petro stations because you are so desperately hungry you just don’t care.

We didn’t have time for a good breakfast this morning, so I was hoping for McDonalds so that I could at least get a hash brown. Grant got mad at me for even bringing up McDonalds. Greg had grabbed a mincemeat apricot bar and he was eating it slowly like it was his last meal before going to the electric chair. That’s how it felt to Greg, I think, being back in the van again with his back all messed up. This is also about the time that Hayley started freaking out because she needed Mexican food from El Cid in Logan Square. She wouldn’t stop talking about Mexican food the rest of the damn trip. I was dying for Chicago food too and I was ready to choke her for reminding me about it. If you are vegetarian or don’t eat red meat, pork or fish and avoid dairy, you just may starve in Europe like I have. I have lost enough weight that I probably look like Skeletor!

Grant took over the van driving for a while because Frits was getting very tired. It was fine because Grant handles the van very well. We got to the ferryboat and drove onto it. The ferry ride was uneventful until we tried to change money. England is the last country in the Union that doesn’t use the Euro. What is up with that? Anyway, the French money change man (I guess on the ocean to England, it’s still considered France?) was having problems with his calculator and Hayley and I thought he was trying to be sneaky. Long story short, he closed up shop because of us.

I was freaking out the whole time thinking that one of us was going to get seasick. I took some Dramamine and so did Grant. It was fine. Greg was walking in circles trying to find food. The food on the boat was nasty, but we ate it anyway.

We saw some headlines in the newspaper about the UN Council vote on Iraq. Greg was wondering out loud how Bush was getting everything he wants. Hayley said that Michael Moore should be president. Grant and I are disgusted and worried. We can’t believe that George Bush is getting away with all this shit! It’s crazy. The council vote probably was never in doubt. What country wants to feel the economic retaliation of the USA? We hate George Bush. The world is coming to an end.

Anyway, back to some happiness…Frits read us a German review of our show at Subrosa in Dortmund. It was the first review we’ve ever gotten of our live show. It was a great review. We didn’t know that a journalist was there checking us out, which is probably for the best.

Off the ferry
We are off the ferry driving to Leicester. We only have two more shows to do at this point and a radio gig at Virgin.

Hey! We are in England! England still has strict border patrol. We were detained for a few minutes to do paperwork and stuff.

Five o’clock and already dark. There are fireworks everywhere. The cars, of course, are all on the “wrong” side of the road. Frits keeps shouting in his Darth Vader voice: Stay Left Avoid Death! In spite of the cramped conditions in the van, everyone is in good spirits and ready to do the next show. Our first one is at The Musician in Leicester. We were warned by many people to prepare ourselves for a hard, cold crowd in England. I hope not!

Leicester, UK
The minute we stepped out of our van at our B&B in Leicester, someone jacked one of our bags. Welcome to England! It happened to be the bag with tons of shit in it including all of our money, receipts and contracts — it sucked. The really weird thing is that out of the six of us, Hayley was the only one who saw the guys who robbed us. They were like phantoms…very spooky. Grant and Frits walked around for a while to see if the robbers threw the stuff in a garbage can, but no luck. Frits was bummed out for the whole night after this. As we were going to sleep in our room, I looked out the window and saw hookers and drug dealers. Cool! Just like home!

We were all beat and extremely cranky because this had been the longest driving day — ten hours. I myself got sick for the first time on tour: a fever, relentless head buzz, headache and body ache and even worse, a severely sore throat. I went straight to bed and slept for ten hours. The next day, we all took off in search of food. Everyone told us that Indian food is the food to eat in Leicester. I, Hayley and Grant went to this fantastic Indian restaurant down the street. It was pretty much the best Indian food that we’ve ever had. Greg had been talking about Pizza Hut for the last frigging week, so guess where he went for lunch? This is a guy who said that when he went to Montreal, he lived cheaply in hostels simply because he wanted to dine at the finest restaurants that money could buy. And so, when we get to Leicester, the place where everyone says you must eat Indian food, he goes to Pizza Hut! Ha! But he loved it. He says it’s the consistency that he likes: same taste, same crust. David made a beeline to the YMCA instead of eating lunch. I guess he needed to work his quads or something. A YMCA in Leicester, isn’t that something?

England thankfully has lots of stores and fast food restaurants. Hmmmm. Maybe that’s not a good thing. Anyway, we all were relieved to end the tour in England because there is no language barrier. It’s a bit more comfortable to get around because we don’t have to struggle to read signs and menus, communicate for directions, or simply order hot water for my tea. We talked about it and agreed that we all feel some paisan-ship with the British.

We all piled into the van again to go to The Musician. It was in an odd place, kind of like the Hideout in Chicago, down a dark alley-like deserted street. No one was there; we waited for an hour for someone to show up. The owner finally did, with her daughter. She immediately welcomed us inside and fed us beer, tea and booze. Actually, we had our own booze from the wonderful gig in Brussels –Sapphire gin and 7Up. Yippee! My brother told me to save the partying for the end of the tour, so I did. I am so glad that I took his advice but now I’m goin’ drankin’!

The Musician is cute, with images of all the rock and roll legends on the walls. Also, everyone who has played there has a picture on the wall with their autograph. We signed one after the gig. Utah Carol was the opening band for Robert McCreedy and Bellwether.

The two other bands arrived in a Sprinter van like the one that we were in — only it was a little bit bigger. It was funny because the first thing we did was look at how much more room they had than us! They had an extra row, but they had nine people in the car, not six. The band members seemed all really cool and friendly. It was a pleasure, because we’ve been performing alone pretty much the whole tour. Dana, the female singer with Robert, cracked me up because she was complaining about being in the van for two hours! Ha! She arrived with windswept hair and was decked out in a long coat with a fedora collar and a big glitter ring — she looked like a hipster from the ’60s. Phil the bass player seems to be the most talkative and informed. He’s like a polymath — ask him anything! Robert McCreedy was all mysterious with his cowboy hat and somber look, and Eric (Bellwether) was like the rock star with his shades and funky hair. Then there is Anton, the other Dutchman. He is their road manager. It was really cool — our bands being taken care of by the Dutch. I was happy. I love the Dutch! Anton and Frits started rapping right away. We were all very relaxed and excited about the show. We found out that we were staying at the same hotel and that we’d be playing another show together tomorrow at the Borderline. Yee haw!

People started showing up during our soundcheck. That was alright. Grant and I were on at 8:15 but surprisingly, the house was already pretty full — not packed, but good enough for us to jam a little. The first thing I said was “Good day mates!” What was I thinking? Duh, England, not Australia! Anyway, we started off the set with “Boon” from Wonderwheel and then rolled into “Airplanes” and then “Nellie”. (The rest: “Cluttered Mind”, “Misfits”, “Soda Fountain”, “When We’re Apart”, “9:09”, “See the Sun”, “Mr. Rogers”, “Walk the Walk”, “Stroll in the Park”, “Bluejay”, “Promised Land”, “Wandering Eyes”, “Miles”, “My Fear” and “Turn My Way”.)

The crowd was great, not at all like the other Europeans said they would be. We were asked for an encore, but we didn’t have time because Robert McCreedy and Bellwether were up next. Robert’s show was fantastic, smooth and mellow. He and Dana sounded wonderful singing together. Robert McCreedy and Bellwether were sharing the rhythm section for their European tour as well as all the backline and stuff, so the band was hot. Bellwether was amazing, too — such good songs, and Eric has a sublime voice and he’s cute. They played for at least an hour and a half. Not one single person left the club the whole night!

Afterwards, Grant and I signed autographs. There were people there who had driven a long way to see Utah Carol. Two fans had come all the way from Scotland. It made us feel very special to know that we are giving people a small pleasure of our music.

Frits seemed satisfied with the show. After Hayley finished working our show, she celebrated because in a day or so, she’d be getting home to be with her husband. Greg was his usual consistent optimistic self and David too seemed finally relaxed and happy. It will be good to get back home — although if someone told me that I had to stay for another week, I would happily oblige…well, as long as it was paid for.

Oh, England is really expensive, by the way. Everything is double what it would cost in the US.

It occurs to me that we have been really spoiled on this trip with Frits. Back home, Grant and I do everything: book the shows, call the venues, drive the car, unload the equipment, set everything up including backline stuff, take care of the money stuff, sell the merchandise. What the hell are we going to do without Frits?

After the show, we hung out at the club with the other bands. We get along well. They are a groovy funny bunch. Grant and I would play with them anytime.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped again for more Indian food, and this time Greg got some because he was sheepish that he ate Pizza Hut (although Grant and David did get pizza). Anyway, we crashed and then got up again in the morning to head to London. We think that we are well rested but you never know, sometimes it’s just adrenaline. The weather in England is absolutely beautiful –sunny blue skies, 60 degrees — not typical, according to Frits.

London, England
We have arrived in London! Where are the skyscrapers? London has always loomed larger than life to me, but in reality it’s pretty flat.

We get to the Columbia hotel to check in. Our hotel was right across the street from beautiful Hyde Park. Holy moley! Grant and I have an hour before we have to get out to go to Virgin to tape another radio show, eat, change and then get to the Borderline for our show. We have a huge fight (one of the many I might add) in the hotel room over the fact that he has been carrying my luggage all over Europe. Shit man, he’s the frigging husband, that’s his job!

So, Frits, Hayley, Grant and I ride the red double decker bus to Virgin. We go through the central shopping part of London. It’s huge — Grant and I have never seen so much rampant commercialism in our lives. It’s more pervasive than New York; the shopping goes on and on and on.

We arrive at Virgin. It’s in a little building on a small side street. We meet Lali, our host, and Mark, our engineer. We were expecting something formal but thankfully, it was small, intimate and casual. Ryan Adams had been there to tape his own performance earlier that morning. Grant and I performed “Misfits” and “My Fear”. Grant was nervous enough that he messed up a guitar part that he never ever messes up on, so we had to start over. We also performed “When We’re Apart” as a back-up, but Frits said it sounded flat, so we blew that one off. We were exhausted, I think. Hayley tried to take pictures, but Grant asked her not to, fearing that the little camera shutter sound would end up on the recording. Whatever. Finally, someone else at the other end of Grant’s control-freakism.

On the way back to the hotel, we found an organic food store and restaurant. I was so happy — authentic meatless/dairyless vegetarian food! I could tell Frits didn’t really want to eat there, but at this point he didn’t have any Dutch spunk left in him so he let us eat there. Europeans eat a lot of meat and cheese, so I was having a really hard time with the food. Grant was loving the food, mostly because he eats fish everywhere. Oh well. I’ll just starve.

We made our way back to the hotel and then onward to The Borderline for our final European show. This was our big show, not only because Sylvie from Mojo magazine was supposed to be there, but also because this was our grand finale…so we were a bit nervous. We were the opening band again for Robert McCreedy and Bellwether, but unfortunately, we were on at 8:00 and only allowed to play for 30 minutes, so the club was mostly empty. Too early for Londoners and their pints, I suppose! But even so, the crowd that was there was receptive to our music. Sylvie was there, too, with her archeologist friend Neal who looks like a young Brad Pitt. I thought that Sylvie told me that Neal studied lion butt fossils, but I think that I misunderstood. Grant and I were so happy to finally meet the woman who put our name and album on the map. What a pleasure to see Sylvie! It was freaking me out because who would have thought that we would actually meet her in person in London? Boggles my mind. Our UK publicist Chris was also in attendance, with Nick from Uncut and some other press people. Our friend Gearoid was there. We dedicated our last song, “Misfits”, to Sylvie. All of the press people were nice to us and as happy to meet us as we were them.

Sylvie and Neal took us out after the show to a private club down the way. Frits, Hayley, David, Gearoid, Grant and I went along with Chris and Nick. Chris spoke Swahili to me — he was born in Kenya. He looks to me like a Native American, as his hair is bone straight all the way down to his butt and he has a funky good luck charm necklace made of leather around his neck that his girlfriend made for him. We got Sylvie to autograph for us her new biography of Neil Young. We talked to her for a while about music and new projects that she was working on, and we really didn’t have enough time to ask her more questions. She’s so lucky because she gets to meet and talk with all the music greats! Anyway, David, our session bassist, was passing out his own indie record to everyone that would take one. Greg didn’t come along with us, he went to a jazz club…I think the same club that Jimi performed at the night before he died. Can’t remember the name. Hayley was happy/sad that it was the last night — she was lonely for Dan her husband. Grant and I barely got to talk with Gearoid. Anyhow, the English were all so welcoming to us, we will never forget their kindness.

In the morning, Gearoid took us in a taxi to Notting Hill for a bit. It was pouring down raining. At the restaurant, it was the first time we had something close to an American breakfast: pancakes, french toast, hash browns (hold the bacon please) scrambled egg over toast, sausage biscuit (for Gearoid) and a huge pot of English tea. Our breakfast was $75 US. Can you believe that? We stopped off at Rough Trade records and saw albums that sell for $25. Comfort for the Traveler was not in the bin, unfortunately. I don’t know how the English can afford to live in England.

The whole tour went by so fast it can hardly be believed. Grant and I were 20 days in a van across Europe with four people that we barely knew who had completely distinct and diametric personalities. We introduced Utah Carol to as many Europeans as possible, learned a lot, experienced new cultures and made new friends. The fact that we did as much as we possibly could in a short amount of time, and for the most part kept our sanity, is pretty damn amazing.

It seemed like everything fell into place too. George invited us to do the tour diary right before we left and coincidentally, Hayley jumped at the chance to come with us on tour with her digital camera and computer — making it really easy to upload her photos to Splendid and input my thoughts on the computer (her dream is to travel all over the world and take photos). We traveled to England — the first place that we ever got press overseas, back in 1999, with our debut album Wonderwheel. We got to meet Sylvie from Mojo and Bart after all these years. David got to swim in the Mediterranean and take a break from his brain eating corporate day job. Jazzman Greg can now say that he’s done a tour as a “pop” musician in Europe. Grant and I visited countries that we never thought we’d ever have the chance to see in our lifetime together as a couple. Grant and I, for the first time, did a real tour: almost back to back singing and playing our songs from our records for people who came specifically to see us! Man oh man. Even amidst the stress of working hard, it was all pretty perfect. Thank you Munich Records for the opportunity!

Maybe this is the beginning of a new chapter for Grant and me. Frits said we need to get back to Europe in the spring, maybe to perform in France, Italy and Portugal, or simply to focus on Germany, Holland and England. Sara is pushing to get us a big gig at a festival in Spain in August. We have a song placed in All The Real Girls, a major independent film by David Gordon Green, out in February of 2003 (Sparklehorse, Will Oldham and Hope Sandoval are supposedly on the soundtrack). We are starting to work on our next album. Maybe we’ll start looking for a US manager or booking agent if they will have us. Hmmmmmm. My brother-in-law said that our minds would be blown after the tour. I think he’s right. The tour has given us a much broader outlook for Utah Carol.

Thanks for going with us on our first European musical journey. We’re flying back home now. Hasta luego!

Are you in a band? Are you touring? Want to add your tour diary to the Touring Test? E-mail us for more information.

Tour Diary 2002 Utah Carol in Europe (Part 2)

Editor’s Note: We normally attempt to date each entry — but as you’ll soon discover, JinJa lost track the date. We’ve identified the entries by where the band is, rather than when…

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Spain
We are in Spain. It is beautiful. The people are beautiful. The streets are beautiful. Everyone drives mopeds and motorcycles. We are doing a radio show tomorrow afternoon and a show at Le Boite. We met our promoter, Sara. She is a cool person. We are staying in an apartment, not a hotel this time. It’s cool. It’s pink and looks very Spanish. Sara said that Michelle Shocked, Allison Moorer, Mary Gauthier and the Handsome Family stayed here. She took us for tapas and showed us around town a little bit. We went inside the club that we will be playing at tomorrow. A blues band was playing Chicago blues. Hayley stood up and sang “I’m a natural woman!” with the blues man. It’s got a nice vibe, glass columns, pretty lights and a disco ball. Our show is at 11 or 11:30 p.m. but we have to get up at 3:00 a.m. to get back on the road. We have to be in Madrid by noon to tape the national television show. Our good friend Gearoid from the US showed up at our apartment door with his sister. I burst into tears when I saw him. We haven’t seen him in a year since he defected from the US to Europe.

We haven’t played a show since the 27th, so we are all very anxious to get back on stage. We are in denial about the drive to Germany, since we will be in the van for four days. We all still like each other kind of.

Barcelona
The city is vibrant and huge. All of us have been awake for over 24 hours now. We are loopy! Sara, our promoter, is the most fantastic person we have ever met. She is so on top of things, professional, fun to be around and she is an excellent translator. Did I already mention that on our first night in Barcelona, she took us to a wonderful tapas restaurant? Grant chowed on octopus and other creatures of the ocean. I stuck to the papas fritas and ensalada.

The next morning Grant and I had to go to the radio station. Sara told us that it was only a few blocks away from our apartment, which would have been cool if we only had one bag. We were dragging our guitar and my sampler through the busy streets. Grant had wanted to only play acoustic guitar, but I insisted on bringing my sampler, keyboard and zip. Of course, when we got to the studio, none of my equipment worked, so we ended up doing it the way he wanted. He’s always right, I am always wrong!

Radio Catalano was the station. The interviewer asked us interesting questions and made us feel completely at home. We performed was “Misfits”, which our tour manager Frits liked best. We also performed “Promised Land” and “When We’re Apart”. I guess we did okay — he didn’t say anything! Ha!

We all decided to do some sightseeing after the radio show, so Frits rounded everyone up to go walking. Sara was our guide. At this point, we had been up for over 30 hours with no sleep, so we were pretty loopy. But you only live once, and Barcelona is so beautiful, we wouldn’t have missed it. The city is huge and feels endless. We started walking through the financial shopping district. It was like Michigan Avenue and the Gold Coast times 50. I can’t believe that I was able to pass up the stores and not go in them to buy stuff. I did get scared when I saw a Starbucks, though. I am not sure that I want American fast food to be in other cultures. On the one hand, every time we tried to get something to go, we couldn’t because everyone takes their time in Spain — they eat at the restaurant. On the other hand, you realize how people rush around all the time in the States.

Finally, we got out of the shopping district and into the open market — there was food, flowers, street performers, fruit and lots of people. We stopped at a tiny restaurant and had some more good Spanish food. We kept walking towards the Mediterranean Sea and the fishing port. The closer we got to it, the more excited our bass player David got. Once we got to the ocean front, he took off and wind-sprinted towards the ocean, along the way ripping off his clothes with abandon. He jumped in! I think that he would have gone buck naked, but Sara said that it wouldn’t be proper to be naked in public in Spain.

We had to get back to the apartment to prepare for the interview with another magazine and the show at Le Boite. We were all dead tired, especially because we had walked two hours to the ocean — and we still hadn’t slept yet. Since we had to leave for Madrid at 4:00 in the morning, we all decided that we would stay up the whole night through, making it over 48 hours of no sleep. Shit!

The interview was held at a restaurant and it was great. Hayley was taking photos the entire time, her flash going off. Everyone was looking at us like we were rock stars. Grant actually got a little nervous because people were staring and pointing. It was fun!

We had a great show once again, we performed well, but the crowd always makes it more fun because everybody was into the music. The soundman at Le Boite was Marrrrrrrrrrrrrrco. He hooked us up with some fantastic sound for the night. Grant broke a string during one of the songs — his worst nightmare. But I think it looks cool when he plays so hard that the strings break. David was jumping all around the stage and Greg was cranking his kit in the back. Our friend Gearoid was sitting at the front with his sister. I almost cried again when I saw him down there…he reminds me of home.

After the show, we met a fan that had heard of Utah Carol because of Communication Arts Magazine. Our web site, designed by Speared Peanut, is featured in the recent Interactive Annual. He loved the web site and thought that he would never be able to see us live, so he was pleasantly surprised when he saw on our site that we would be in Spain. Meeting people in these foreign lands who are coming to see us because they like our music is wonderfully intense. Right now, I can’t think of anything that feels better than this.

Grant, Hayley, Gearoid, Annmarie (Gearoid’s sister) and I went back to the apartment to hang out. We had two hours until we had to get on the road to Madrid. I don’t know what kept us going because we were over 55 hours at the point of no sleep. David, Frits, Greg and Sara went back to sleep for a bit. Sara was going to be in the van with us on the way to Madrid, so we now have seven people in the van. “The Van” is going to be a song title on our next album.

Frits hadn’t slept either, so we were really worried about how we were going to keep him awake for the next eight hours of driving in the dark to Madrid. Hayley decided to sit in the front and blab to keep him up. It worked — that girl can go, man! Sara was up front, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. I was keeping my eyes open to back-up Hayley. It was kind of scary, actually. We were yelling at the sun for it to come out. It finally came out at 7:00 a.m. and we celebrated like pagans. As I am writing this, it occurs to me that I don’t know what day it is. Everything is backwards.

The imagery out the window on the way to Madrid is breathtaking. It reminds us of the American West –the colors are blue, green, dark yellow, red and brown. The mountains are everywhere as we are driving through them. My ears are popping.

Madrid
We finally get to Madrid and are blown away by the sheer size of it. Traffic here is worse than the Kennedy Expressway in Chicago at rush hour. Unfortunately, our schedule is so friggin’ tight, we have no opportunity to sight-see at all (except for outside our van window). So this is what it’s like to be on the road with a band! None of us have every done this before, so it’s the trip of a lifetime. From the highway we drive directly to the television station to prepare for the show. Our performance will be taped now and then shown on a national television show. Walking into the television station was very surreal. I was like, “How did we get here? We are in Madrid on national TV.”

The station was packed with people — soundmen, make-up people, seamstresses, lighting guys and cameramen. Everyone there had heard our music and knew who we were. In Spain, when you play at a club or whatever, the people listen to your music in advance so that they are prepared to do a good sound check. Frits was helping us get set up. Thank goodness he is here. I just don’t know what we would do without him on this tour. He knows about all the backline, the conversion stuff, he speaks the same language as the soundmen, knows all the code words. He’s actually been setting all my stuff up as we go. I am so slow moving, I can’t get it together. Anyway, we set up and rehearse some songs, soundcheck…we sound really good. Everyone is pumped to do the television show. This was a huge moment for us.

We finally went to lunch in the cafeteria. Luckily, there was a meatless soup for me, so I chowed on that with bread. Everyone else had fish. Hayley ordered soup with chickpeas and ham. She found a piece of ham bacon in her soup that had pig hair still in it. It was so gross. We ate in five minutes, then ran off to wash our faces, change clothes and get ready for the show. I had told Sara to tell the make up people to just powder the guys’ faces, but they got full make-up. It was hilarious! I got an excellent make-up job, I insisted on the natural look, and that’s what I got. I was really happy with what she did to my eyes — I had gold metallic shadow on my eyelids, but it was subtle. I wish that I could get my makeup professionally done every day.

We get to the stage and had to wait for an extra half an hour on stage because one of the cameras didn’t work. The show was taped so they brought in people to clap for us after every single song. There were about 25 people and they were mostly young girls. It was hilarious because they were standing in a row right in front of the stage. I felt like we were in a pop boy band. They were dancing along to our songs, smiling; it was fun. I was a little nervous because the show was taped so I felt like I’d better not screw up my organ solos. Grant was all the way on the other side of the stage, which was strange. Greg and David were behind us tearing up the place as usual. We were in awe of things in general. Hayley was pumped because she had all this excellent lighting for her photos.

We videotaped the whole experience on our camcorder.

When we finished, we were all pretty relieved, mostly because we knew that we were one step closer to getting some sleep. It’s a double-edged sword — on one hand, we don’t want to miss anything; on the other, we are so friggin’ tired that we can’t see straight anyway! We finally get to drop our stuff off at the hotel. The hotel was surprisingly awesome, so plush — marble floors and baths, mirrors everywhere, plush beds. But we had to leave quickly because we had two interviews to complete for two more magazines.

The journalists were downstairs waiting in the hotel lobby. The one journalist asked us an interesting question about the Chicago music scene, implying that in Spain, they think Chicago has a movement like Seattle did in the ’90s. The city has such great bands, like Tortoise, Brokeback, Wilco, Vandermark 5, and Handsome Family, to name a few. It’s hard for us to tell, because we live there, but we felt so proud that they thought we were part of it. Chicago is a great town to be in if you are a musician, because you can make lots of connections, the clubs are friendly, the musicians all know of or actually know each other — but I have to say that Europe is a great continent to tour in. The kindness of strangers…

Our show was at a club called Moby Dick. It is Halloween! But in Spain it’s not that big of a deal. I keep thinking of my ma’s house on Halloween — orange lights all over the trees like Christmas, pumpkins everywhere, lighted mannequins on the lawn. There is nothing like that in Spain, but at the Moby Dick, the whole place was set up like a haunted house. For a moment, I thought we had entered a bar in Lincoln Park in Chicago.

The sound check went fine because as usual, Frits took care of us. My equipment worked perfectly. Grant’s guitars were fine, strings all set (he replaced them and stretched them the morning before). We were downstairs in the dressing room; there was graffitti all over the walls, lots of drawings of gigantic penises for some reason. What’s with that? We saw them all over the walls at AB Club in Brussels as well. Hmmmmmm. Frits has also been selling our CDs, t-shirts and promo booklets. He’s got this wonderful merchandise cart that displays it all really well, and he’s a good salesman, although his wife, Sylvie, is probably better at it (ha-ha). She sold more CDs than he did!

In Spain, the people never sleep. All night long, people are partying. One thing for sure: we all talked about how we could live there. Sara told us we could stay with her when we come back. We want to bring her with us to Chicago. Sara would like for us to return to Spain in August for the Festival Internacional de Benicassim. She said that there are 40,000 people that go to see music over the course of several days. It sounds like exactly what we want to do next year at the end of summer. We met a guy named Pepe, who decides on who to invite to the festival, so maybe he’ll ask us to play there.

The show tonight was the best we’ve had so far. And we forgot to tape it! Damn! We were so fucking tired that we just let it all hang loose. We had a ball. Everyone changed his or her spot on stage so the chemistry between us changed — for the better. It was fun looking at all the people in costume for Halloween. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the horned red devil man who was running around the bar half-naked.

(As I am writing this, everyone is the van is asleep except Frits and me. I am a paranoid type because I keep looking up to get clues from Frits to see that he is still awake enough to drive. I half expect to find us turned over in a ditch on the side of the road.)

After the show, I convinced Grant and Greg to hang out with me and dance for a while. The club was turning from Utah Carol country pop to the all night disco. All the freaks were out and that’s where I wanted us to be. Greg, Grant and I stayed a while so I danced with Greg and Grant watched. It was fun. Later, Grant and I went to dinner. (Earlier David and Greg actually went to a Subway to eat dinner! But Greg said that the Subway sandwich that he had here in Madrid was the best Subway sandwich that he ever had.) I told Grant that if he didn’t take me for a good vegetarian dinner before we left Madrid, I would leave him for good. So we went trekking around and found a place called VIPs. I had a fantastic pasta dish and Grant had salmon. They actually had a no smoking section!

Back at he hotel, we crashed for the first time in a few days. We were all too tired to enjoy the amenities.

Leaving Spain
In the van again on the way to Germany. Berlin is our first city. The crazy thing is that we will not be in Germany until Monday, and today is Friday! We are now on the road again. Frits is beat even though he got eight hours of sleep. We have to travel back through Spain to get to Germany. We stopped off to a small town a while back. The houses are all built in the rocks. There are abandoned brick structures. We can’t figure it out…what they mean, what were they used for. Today is All Saints Day, so everyone in Spain is off work for the next two days. It’s a celebration. While we stopped in this little town, it was dead quiet there. We were wondering where all the people were, what do they do, where do they go to dinner if they eat out. I half expected a Twilight Zone thing to happen where we walk into one of the houses in the rocks and never come back, or maybe we go into a time warp or another dimension.

We went up the mountain, David took off for the top where he laid out for a while to get a suntan. I was afraid that there would be snakes. Grant went running after the sheep that were going through the town. The herder was shaking the bells, like the bells in our song “Cowboy Pop Song” on our new album. He taped the sound and videotaped the sheep. The herder was making noises to get the sheep to stop and go, and the sheep dog understood the messages as well. The town was so interesting, with its narrow streets and sheep poop everywhere.

Four days on the road to Germany. Oh my god. I am still in denial. Greg came up with a new seating arrangement in the van: one person in the front and four in the back. Whatever. We’ll make it. We were going to go all the way to Barcelona to find a hotel but Frits is getting too tired. I think one of the other guys is going to have to take over at some point, even if it’s only for an hour. It’s scary driving in Europe because you have to watch out for the other drivers.

We met a nice person at the gas station stop. His name is Gil. He told us of a nice town to stay in before Barcelona. I speak a little bit of Spanish, so I was able to order meatless sandwiches for the gang. But I didn’t know how to say cucumber or bell pepper. But the sandwiches were delicious! Finally a good sandwich.

We are fighting over the computer right now so I have to ring off.

Vilafranca de Penedes, Spain
We make it to the next town in Spain, just outside Barcelona. We drive around for a while to look for a hotel. The first two hotels were not too good, but we finally found one called Hotel Domo. It was pretty nice, and it had Internet access. The manager was very helpful; I am totally getting better at my Spanish! He and I were talking in Spanish the whole time. I like it when the folks realize that you are trying to speak their language so they try to help. Anyway, he recommended a restaurant that served pizza and pasta. At first, when we got there, Frits was totally like “I don’t like pizza.” So we walked around for a half an hour through the narrow cobblestone streets. It seems like there are no old people in this town. All of the people are teenagers. Greg said it was probably like a suburb of Madrid, where all the families live. We walked. Lots of people and cars everywhere, music playing all in the streets. That Sunday, there was going to be a big festival to celebrate the Saints, I think. There were little girls playing in the streets, or practicing for the festival. All the restaurants were pizzerias, so Frits had to give in. The place we went, Sant Bernat, had the best food we have had so far. The pizza was the kind with the extra thin crispy crust. I had fresh pasta. I was so happy.

Back through Spain, to France and then onward to Germany
In the morning, I got up to try to upload some new files to Splendid, but discovered that the Internet access in the hotel was only 28.8 kbps…ugh! So I gave up. We stopped at a fruit market before we hit the road. We’ve been eating a lot of junk food, so we bought a bunch of apples, platanos, pears, oranges and tangerines. Yum yum.

Greg invented a new swear word today: fuckfire. He’s havin’ a helluva time in the van. He’s a trooper, though, with all of his back problems and stuff. He has to be symmetrical when he sits to avoid back spasms and he’s so tall, he can never stretch his legs. He claims that he’s six feet two inches, but that’s not possible, because when I look at him, I look up higher than I look at Grant, and Grant is six feet two inches. David is meditating the entire trip, looking dreamily out the window, running around the petrol station parking lots with his bare feet. I think that he’s having a good time.

Hayley has a few days off, finally. She’s been working non-stop since we got to Europe and talking about her husband Dan the whole trip. Dan sounds like tons of fun. He may meet Hayley in Amsterdam and then travel with us to England. Because we are on the road for so many days, Hayley can finally take a break, and maybe even take some photos for her own portfolio. She made all of us cheese sandwiches. She’s a lot of fun to have on the road — always smiling, always happy and laughing.

Frits is back on the saddle. Grant just asked him if he could make it all the way to Lyon, and he’s like “Yeah, baby! EASY!” Thank god, because I really don’t want Grant to drive the friggin’ van. Grant is the same, stable, calm and diplomatic. Always on the look out for cool things, full of good ideas. Me, I’m crabby because I didn’t get my tea today. I was frowning for about an hour this morning, dreaming about sipping from a hot cup. So, I had a piece of chocolate and my attitude corrected immediately. I have learned my lesson about Europe: if you are a tea drinker and you like to drink tea all the time, you need to get a travel mug. There are no carry out cups in Europe anywhere. It’s making me absolutely bonkers! Anyway, I am going off on a tangent because I am going road crazy.

Hotel Saint-Jean/Le Jardin de Bagatelle
We stopped off at another small French town to sleep and eat. We stopped at the first hotel we saw ’cause Frits is getting anxious again. Grant and I went inside to check it out and it was okay — except for the four flights of winding stairs that we had to get our luggage up. Travel tip: bring small suitcases. Anyway, everyone was hungry, but I really needed a break from the whole group so I told Grant that we needed to go to dinner without the gang. We took Hayley with us and walked around town to the “restaurant row”. It was pouring down raining. I was the only one who brought an umbrella, but we still got soaking wet. We walked down the street for a while, trying to pretend like we could read French. We walked into three restaurants and got turned away each time. I am not sure if it was because we were dressed like shit, soaking wet, non-French speaking or just plain American. Every time we walked into one of the restaurants, all talk would stop and everyone would turn around and stare. Anyway, we stopped in to look at this intimate, quaint restaurant, and there was one table open. The owner at first seemed uncertain, but then she let us in and put two tables together for us. She was very handsome, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, chiseled severe features, vintage blue and dark metal earrings. She was very pale, but her eyes were very friendly and warm. She spoke little English. As we sat down, everyone stopped talking for a minute and stared at us, but then resumed eating. There were only five tables in the restaurant. It turns out that there was only one cook. The menu was price fixe, which usually scares me, but they had a wonderful menu. I ordered an onion tart, turkey medallions with mushrooms, potato and for dessert, and an apple tart, which was made on the spot. I don’t like French food in the States, but this food here is the best that I have ever had. Hayley had whitefish with curry sauce and basmati rice, Grant had a meat terrine, white fish wrapped in bacon. All of us had the apple tart. We were there for three and a half hours, which was wonderful. You can never sit comfortably and eat slowly in the US for that long.

We met some English-speaking people at dinner. It was such a warm experience for us.

Walking back through town, I found myself thinking about living in Europe for the rest of my life, traveling through the different small towns, eating different foods, meeting people, learning different languages.

Our room was miniature but clean and cozy. We all slept pretty well. The next morning, Grant, Hayley and I went into the town and walked around. We found a huge farmer’s market full of fresh fruits and vegetables, flowers, rotisserie chicken and a string trio with two cellos and a violin. I was on a mission this time to find my hot water, which I finally did. Frits told me how to say “hot water” in French: low sho (L’eau chaud, I think — Ed.). I know that it is spelled differently, but that’s how you say it. I’ve been walking around Europe with my tea strainer and loose tea, desperate for a to-go cup.

Grant found a photography museum for Hayley. It was pretty cool, because the first photograph ever taken was by a French guy named Nicephore Niepce, who happened to be from the town we were staying in.

It was refreshing to see Frits, Greg and David again. We hadn’t seen them since last night since we abandoned them at the hotel.

Onward to Germany
We got on the highway again. Damn, another day on the road. At least the scenery is beautiful. We are leaving France…au revoir.

Entering Germany, the border was completely deserted. Greg said that when he came with his family seven years ago, there were border guards with machine guns. Maybe it’s my imagination, but the vibe in Germany is markedly different than the other countries — can’t quite put my finger on it. We haven’t gotten to Berlin yet, but we are at a rest stop to get a bite to eat. The food here is the closest to American food that I have had so far: steamed broccoli, baby salad greens, hash brown like potatoes, red pepper and cucumber salad…

We’ve left the rest stop. Grant has decided to drive the van after all. He’s actually pretty good at it — very calm and methodical. I think it may be a little easier on the autobahn. Oh, it’s Sunday! There are no trucks to freak us all out. That helps.

Then we got stuck in a traffic jam for an hour. The autobahn sucks. I thought everyone sped on the autobahn…

· · · · · · ·
If you’re in Europe, it’s not too late to catch Utah Carol on tour:
November 2002
Tue. 05 Germany: Dortmund: Subrosa
Wed. 06 Germany: Münster: Gleis 22
Thu. 07 Germany: Hamburg: Golden Pudel Club
Fri. 08 Netherlands: Amsterdam: radio
and Netherlands: Amsterdam: Crossing Border Festival (venue: Melkweg)
Sun. 10 UK Leicester: The Musician
Mon. 11 UK London: The Borderline
The dates/venues may change, so please visit the band’s booking agency’s web site for updated tour information.

Utah Carol Diary: 2001 European tour (Part 1)

image image image image image image image image image image imageUtah Carol are JinJa Davis and Grant Birkenbeuel. Their two albums, Comfort for the Traveler and Wonderwheel, are longtime favorites ’round the Splendid office. Munich Records recently licensed the album for European release, and the band has just embarked on its first-ever European tour to support it.
JinJa and Grant will be playing at good clubs all around Europe and will also be visiting different radio stations and appearing on national television shows. They’ll be accompanied by Frits (tour manager), David Kemper (bassist) and Greg Wyser-Pratte (drummer). Hayley Murphy of Hayley Murphy Photography is documenting the tour, and has very kindly provided us with photos. Visit her web site at

· · · · · · ·
October 25 — Airport
We are on the way to the airport in a big honkin’ tour/sub van thing that is blasting disco music amidst the deep plush leather seats and shag carpet. We asked the bus driver — his name is Elvis — to put our music on, which he did. The ride was fine, but the whole way we were amazed that we were on our way to Europe. This is the first time in our lives that we will be 100 percent focused on nothing but music. No day jobs, no bills (except for the expensive hotels) no phones ringing, you name it. All music all day.

We were on the plane, strapped in our seats, for three hours before leaving the gate. Grant was getting stir crazy. We were stuck because the toilets weren’t flushing! It took three hours to fix.

Once we left, the plane ride was fine. All of us took Excedrin PM to try to sleep away our inevitable jet lag…

October 26 — Brussels
We got off the plane and Frits, our tour manager, was there waiting. He didn’t call the airport in advance so he was waiting for three hours. Anyway, the airport in Brussels is quite calm, totally unlike O’Hare in Chicago. The customs agents were very excited to know that we were in a band, but they’d never heard of Utah Carol. Our bass player had a Utah Carol shirt on, which was very very cool. We got to the van that we were to drive in for 20 days and our drummer took one look and said “we are in for some hard time”. The van was surprising small for six very large people — all the guys are at least six feet tall. We were too tired, though, to really care at that point.

Our hotel was very American, a Sheraton. Our tour manager said that it would be the best hotel that we would stay in, generally. It was comfortable.

That night we walked around Brussels, and it felt like we hadn’t left the US. It is very Western. However, we did walk over to the Grand Place section. I cried — it was so beautiful. Grant was obsessed with finding the “Mannequin de Piss” or whatever it’s called. He was dragging us through the cobblestone streets of Brussels trying to get a look at it. David and Greg abandoned us eventually, but Grant and I found it. There was a huge crowd around taking pictures and looking at the statue of the little boy peeing. We took a picture too.

Later that night, Hayley and Grant were trying to get the computer set up so that she could burn CDs. Grant is a PC whiz. Anyway, when they plugged in all those the converters and stuff, the surge protector caught on fire.

October 27 — AB Club Brussels
Jet lag, man.

So, Grant and I are starting to sing a little to get warmed up. We are a little bit nervous — it’s been a week since we’ve played, pretty much. We haven’t played with our backing band for a while, either, so maybe we are a bit rusty.

Frits says that the AB Club is the place to be in Brussels. Outside the club there were a hundred little girls — we mistakenly thought that they were there to see us. There was a famous boy band playing, of course.

The club is fantastic. It’s the equivalent of the Metro in Chicago, I guess (Let’s say a 1000 to 1500-head venue — Ed.). We had roadies helping us set everything up. Our private dressing room was loaded with goodies like Bombay Sapphire, water, candies, wine, bread. Really nice. Munich Records really is trying to take care of us. We were treated like royalty. Damn! We are all having a ball here. David said to us that he never thought it would be in the cards to go to places like this. David and Greg are great to have on tour because they kick butt when they are on stage. Grant and I, of course, love this. At first it was stressful, probably because we had jet lag or something, but now we have relaxed a little bit.

The sound check was fantastic. We have had the best experience so far with sound here at the AB Club. The room is huge, there are wonderful colored lights everywhere, we had roadies, stage managers, production people. Damn. It was very cool. The people in Brussels are so so very kind and considerate. I want to stay here forever.

Grant was preparing the set list at the last minute. They told us to prepare for some encores. We have never had an audience ask for an encore before, but we prepared for it. Everyone was pretty uptight at first, but then when we saw the looks on the faces of our fans — and by the way, there was a good sized crowd considering that that night, Brussels was having the biggest storm they’d ever had in 19 years. Trees were falling to the ground, houses collapsing. The government was telling people to not walk in the forest. I was sort of wondering where the forest was anyway.

So, we got on stage and people started cheering. We played our asses off. Couple of mistakes from nerves, but overall it went really well. We got called out for an encore and some people were singing along with us.

After the show, we hung out in the dressing room with some fans. Oh, but before that, we were chatting with some cool folks that had driven through the gales and knocked down trees to come see us play. A few people had perished in nature that night because of the storms.

Some fans were talking with us after the show, we signed some autographs, and someone nabbed all of our set lists. One fan looked just like Charlie Sheen.

October 28 — Brussels to France
We are leaving Brussels. The hotel stay was very nice, very big and very clean. I didn’t sleep a wink because we were still pumped about the show last night. The people of Brussels were warm and welcoming. Grant and I will come back to visit. France is our next destination. Since I didn’t get much sleep last night I am crabby, plus I haven’t had my tea.

The van is very enclosed and small. I am sitting in the back with Hayley Murphy, our photographer, and Grant. Greg Wyser-Pratte and David Kemper are sitting in the front with Frits. The ride from Brussels to France is not too bad and not too long. Our show was canceled in Paris, so we are just stopping along the way to Spain. We are going to do interviews in France on the way back from Germany.

We decide to stop in Macon for the night. The first hotels that we saw looked like Motel 8s, so we kept driving and decided to go into the town. We found a lovely little hotel that was straight out of an old French movie: yellowed wallpaper, dim lights, shag carpet, black and white TV and French windows overlooking the river. The rooms were clean and neat. The owner was very nice to us.

Later we went to town and had food at a brasserie. Everyone had mussels. Fresh mussels. I had chicken with no sauce; Hayley had chicken with sauce. Of course we had fries with mayonnaise.

We went out to have a drink at an off-track betting facility — why, I don’t know. It’s funny, because all the people inside have the same look as the people in the off-track betting place on State Street in Chicago. We told the manager that we were from Chicago, so he came over to give us a poster of Arlington Race Track. It’s like a cult, those horse-betters.

In the morning, the hotel owner went to the bakery to get us fresh bread and rolls. The bread and the butter in France is amazing. All of us could eat this all day and all night.

We stopped off real quick at the local Internet café to try to check email and stuff, but Frits our tour manager said that we had to get on the road. I was supposed to hold the second key for the van and I accidentally left it at the front desk. He was mad at me, so I gave the key to someone else to hold.

Hayley, our photographer, has been busting her ass taking all of these beautiful images of us on tour. And she got the technical stuff totally together. I am typing now as we are driving in the night through Spain. It’s dark and the mountains are on the horizon, with purple and blue mist floating all around us.

Hayley is going through all the photos editing them and then putting them in order just for George at Splendid!

France to Spain
Frits is starting to get antsy. David, our bass player, tried to take over driving at one point, but it is very stressful driving a truck in Europe. He made it for about two hours. We were stressed just watching him drive. Grant is going to try next time and then Greg.

We haven’t had a really good meal yet, especially me because I am mostly a vegetarian. I only eat chicken breast. Everyone else is pretty easy. Grant doesn’t eat red meat or pork either, but at least he eats fish. But Spain should be perfect because there is plenty of rice.

We are all thinking that we’ll be able to get by in Spain since we are more familiar with Spanish then French. Dreams come true because none of us have ever been to Spain before. All my life I have wanted to go to España. We are listing to Spanish radio, and looking at the night lights.

The truck drivers in Europe drive so well. Gee.

I am hoping that we get lost in Barcelona. That’s where we’re heading. We have four more days in the van after Spain. Hayley and I are going nuts in the van. She is turning into a scaly freak and I am turning into a giant pimple. The guys in the back are sleeping.

We’ve already had one fight about feminism and someone stomped out of the room. It’s only the third day. I’ll write more later.

October 29 — Spain
We are in Spain. It is beautiful. The people are beautiful. The streets are beautiful. Everyone drives mopeds and motorcycles. We are doing a radio show tomorrow afternoon and a show at Le Boite. We met out promoter here — her name is Sara de la Torre, from Dock-Land. She is a cool person. We are staying in an apartment, not a hotel, this time. It’s cool. Sara said that Michelle Shocked, Allison Moorer, Mary Gauthier and the Handsome Family stayed here. She took us for tapas and showed us around town a little bit. We went inside the club that we will be playing at tomorrow. It’s got a nice vibe and a disco ball. Our show is at 11:00 or 11:30 p.m. but we have to get up at 3:00 a.m. to get back on the road. We have to be in Madrid by noon to tape a national TV show. Our good friend Gearoid from the US showed up at our apartment door with his sister. We haven’t seen him in a year since he defected from the US to Europe.

We haven’t played a show since the 27th, so we are all very anxious to get back on stage. We are in denial about the drive to Germany, since we will be in the van for four days. We all still like each other, kind of.

· · · · · · ·
If you’re in Europe, it’s not too late to catch Utah Carol on tour:
November 2002
Mon. 04 Germany: Berlin: Schokoladen
Tue. 05 Germany: Dortmund: Subrosa
Wed. 06 Germany: Münster: Gleis 22
Thu. 07 Germany: Hamburg: Golden Pudel Club
Fri. 08 Netherlands: Amsterdam: radio
and Netherlands: Amsterdam: Crossing Border Festival (venue: Melkweg)
Sun. 10 UK Leicester: The Musician
Mon. 11 UK London: The Borderline
The dates/venues may change, so please visit the band’s booking agency’s web site for updated tour information.

About

Utah Carol, comprised of JinJa Davis and Grant Birkenbeuel, create an eclectic mix of pop, folk and indie rock seasoned with happy/sad, boy/girl vocal harmonies. There’s an enchanting quality to their music with lullaby-like, harmonizing vocals floating effortlessly through their songs. The band’s name comes from a traditional song about a cowboy who dies trying to save his friend from a stampede.

Utah Carol have been writing original songs together since 1995. JinJa and Grant write the music and lyrics as well as produce, arrange, perform and publish their songs in Chicago, Illinois. The band has three albums: Wonderwheel (1999), and Comfort For The Traveler (2002) and Rodeo Queen (2007). They are currently working on new songs for their next album.

JinJa and Grant also design, art direct and produce the band’s albums, press materials and band merchandise at their graphic design company Birkdesign Inc.

From AllMusic.com The indie rock group Utah Carol, taking their name from a traditional cowboy song, are a duo consisting of husband and wife Grant Birkenbeuel and JinJa Davis. They began writing songs together in 1995 and launched the band in Chicago in 1997. The first Utah Carol album, Wonderwheel, was released by Orchard Records in June 1999. “My Fear,” a song from it, was chosen for inclusion in The Rough Guide to Americana, while another track, “Mabel Custer,” was featured in the film All the Real Girls. Comfort for the Traveler, Utah Carol’s second album, was released April 22, 2002, on the group’s own Stomping Ground label. Rodeo Queen, their third album, appeared on May 15, 2007, anticipating the release of two more films using the band’s music, Kabluey and Love and Mary.