Arriving at the Seattle/Tacoma airport I was on the lookout for TJ Schneider in a gold minivan. Gold minivans are more than abundant in Seattle, a plague really, and tracking down TJ was akin to a scene from a Where’s Waldo book. I finally connected with TJ, the minivan, and the rest of the crew, soccer-mom style at a nearby skatepark.
After swooping up the rest of the team, we were whisked away to a Henry Darger show at the Frye Art Museum. The exhibit was awesome for everyone, and borderline orgasmic for one TJ Schneider. TJ’s a huge fan of Darger as evidenced by a full, tattooed sleeve on his right arm comprised of various Darger works, and this was his first time seeing them in person. It was an authentic “kid in a candy store situation. From there it was on to Capita chief, Blue Montgomery’s abode to knock back a PBR and load up everything for the party.
Upon arrival at the venue, Neumo’s, in beautifully sketchy downtown Seattle, we parked Goldie across the street from an IHOP, and a used needle depository. Sick! The entire Capita team, minus one Travis Parker, was present and accounted for--Tyler Lepore, TJ Schneider, Corey “not Cory Smith, Dan Brisse, Jonas Carlsson, Dustin Craven, and Scott Shaw.
Beyond being in the presence of greatness, attendees were treated to giveaways, autograph signings, and count them, four Capita-related movie screenings--Sandbox’s Flavor Country, featuring Dustin “A.V. Club Craven and Scott Shaw; Bikecar, starring Travis Parker and 866 miles of open road; ir77, featuring Jonas Carlsson; and Whiteout Films’, Wear It Well, starring TJ Schneider.
Once the movies wrapped, it was time for the headliner--Early Man. Born and raised as pious Pentecostalists, in Columbus Ohio, Early Man guitarist Conte, and drummer Adam Bennati were exiled by friends and family as blasphemers when a Black Sabbath record was discovered to be in their possession. The pair relocated to New York and the rest is history. On this Friday, the 13 of October, Early Man made way to Seattle and wreaked havoc. The sound emanating from their instruments of death was thunderous, the lyrics dark and brooding, and collectively it was the most brutally beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
There’s no avoiding last call, and we eventually made our foggy way back to Blue’s house for the after-after party. I bedded down in the first available zone, a leather armchair, and curled up in a terribly uncomfortable, cat-like position. Only to awake the next morning to a sincere hangover and Dustin Craven hand feeding me strawberries. Best weekend ever.