Justin Frye's Road Dawgs

Justin Frye

As he explains below, Justin Frye gets around, playing in tons of bands and touring the country frequently. He's working on gathering stories of living on the road from his musician friends, more of which will be featured on Impose in the future. In the meantime, he gave us some of his memories from 2011. He also took all of the pictures. PC Worship <a href="http://www.imposemagazine.com/bytes/pc-worship-set-to-release-lp">finally release their album</a> Friday January 20 at Death by Audio with Buck Gooter, who is also releasing their debut album. Rumor is that Henry Rollins might show.

Over the past decade of my life, I’ve been on the road almost as much as I’ve been off it, traveling with various bands and projects that range from herds of 50 people (Baltimore Round Robin whazzup) to solo ventures in my truck. A great deal of my friends are people who live the same transient, reckless, tiring, unpredictable, raucous and ultimately fulfilling life as a traveling artist, some of whom I’ve known my whole life and some of whom I met out in that ambiguous cloud of connecting the dots.
Top 5 Random Outings from 2011

5. Meeting random UCSC freshman at the Gary War show in Santa Cruz. These freshman would soon go on to lead Occupy protests, etc, but for this one night they would take us under their nubile wings with more Tang + shitty vodka combo than you could drink and aimless-but-brutally-amazing 3 a.m. cave hiking (“spelunking”) that resulted in being lost in the woods and crashing in a dorm. Slam Dunk.

4. PC Worship has a tour basketball that was bought in Oakland. Playing really helps pass the time. In California especially, for some reason there are tons of basketball courts in the sickest possible zones, at national parks and beaches, which totally rules. But this tour dawg scene goes to PC annihilating Liturgy at “knock out” in Newport, Kentucky (suck it metalheads!), and then playing/teaching four-square to some little redneck kids. The youth of America are in good hands as long as their parents are cool with them playing with sketchy stoner punx strangers. I think Tyler was wearing an XXL “Night Moves” shirt with the belly button cut out. Poor kids.

3. This is such an epic tale that it made it into my list and I wasn't even there. That being said, let's just say someone “birthing an alien child in a hot tub at a mansion in S. Carolina.” I probably said too much. Rewind eight months and you have us hiking frantically against the sunset trying to make our way down death-defying cliffs at the edge of Death Valley. Cooking an unopened can of beans on an over-lit bonfire became a pretty good brain metaphor as it exploded into the stars.

2. Hopscotch Festival in Raleigh, NC this year was a real “who let the dawgs out” kinda scene. As we coalesced there with some of our favorite bands and best friends, what ensued was just endless rage. Let's skip all the bullshit and just get down to it: beer can baseball with pool cues in the VIP room at Slim's w/the Super Vacations. At this point we could already tell that majority of X-Ray Eyeballs was getting pissed at us for acting like total idiots, so it was no surprise that when we discovered an unattended bar at the Sheraton (where all the bands stayed), that this turmoil might escalate slightly. All I remember is trashing the lobby with Mike Vacations; throwing bottles (American Gladiator style) off the balcony at Bladen and hitting a bussinessman; almost getting into a fight with some dude from the Black Lips or Eyes or Keys, I dunno; Bladen ending up kissing Robert Pollard; and waking up in our hotel room with like 15 people, mac 'n' cheese all over our flat screen, and a bathtub full of ham sandwiches. The next day, after not smoking weed for three months. I found myself in a “Jamaican shower” and then went to see Sir Richard Bishop and Swans in an opera hall where there was a Cotillion happening, TOTAL OVERLOAD.

1. Mexico IS sketchy. We played there anyways, and I don't regret it, but when people tell you to steer clear of drug dealers, strip clubs, guys on dirtbikes with guns wearing fake Federale uniforms, the water, any drug under the sun, human traffickers, and letting drunk Mexicans without a license drive your rental car two blocks to buy “yay” because he tells you they don't walk in Mexico, you should listen. Otherwise you might find yourself sweating in the corner of a shithole strip club watching a “dancer” maneuver a bottle of Tecate Light knee-deep into herself, only to pop it out, chug it, and have some toothless dirtbag barely throw a peso at her. Otherwise everything was cool, the tacos were good, the show was fun, etc. Except, the promoter spent all the door/merch ca$h on drugs, started whipping his dick out to take these fivesecond pisses, then left us out in the street while he went inside his house at 6 a.m. to “scope it out”. We got played by “Papi”, but fuck it, we drove to a flea bag motel and if you check in after 6 a. m., you get the whole next day AND they had a pool. Amen.

Honorable Mentions:
  • PC Philly Holiday Bash, stealing Santa costumes and girlfriends who play bass in the other bands.
  • Mabson's 20 foot bong in LA. (Pictured above.)
  • Accidentally calling Janeane Garofalo a bitch during the Butthole Surfers cover set at Bowery. I'm really sorry.
  • Shooting beer cans in Ventura.
  • Skiing in jeans.

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