What's Wrong With Steve?

Hi Steve!!

After leaving a show this past Friday in Indiana, I tossed and turned all evening and knew that I had to ask you this question:

What kind of hair products does Sven use?

I cannot believe the condition and sheer volume of his hair.  Now I realize that all the guys in the band have some serious locks, but after playing in a small club that was hotter than the gates of hell, everyone in the band’s hair was a sweaty stringy mess except for Sven.  He looked like he just came out from under the dryer at a salon.

So I thought to myself, “no way will his hair withstand the sheer nasty humidity and chance of rain at tomorrow evenings show in Michigan.  It will be frizzy and out of control.”

Nope.

Perfect.

I have never seen anything like it!

Thanks for your attention to this matter!

Alison in Illinois

Alison in Illinois

Sven is, and has always been, a man of mystery.

One must always consider very carefully how to approach him, if at all, especially on such a personal issue.

It probably seems like a simple Q and A to you, but if I were to ask him point blank, I assure you the answer would be a deafening moment or two of silence followed by an icily delivered, “Are you serious?”.  He would then turn away dismissively and mutter something under his breath in German.  And, of course he’d get that look where his eyes literally turn jet black.  I have known the man for 23 years and that look still freaks me out.  Scary stuff.

It’s just not worth it.

All is not lost, however.  I snuck a few whiffs of that teutonic lion’s mane recently and discovered that it’s Herbal Essence, the shampoo that compels those using it to tell two friends about it, who will in turn tell two friends, and so on, and so on.  Hardly surprising, now that I think about it, as Sven has long been known as an “old school” kind of guy.

(Man, I remember when Herbal Essence first hit the scene.  I was all over it.  No more Suave for me.  No, sir.  I am sure that the ladies of a certain school in southern Kentucky also remember it, especially at a certain Sadie Hawkins Dance where a certain someone had to beat them off with a stick thanks to the effects of Herbal Essence on a certain someone’s “wings” haircut.  But, that’s another story for another day.)

SG

Dear Steve

I have a problem and I need to seek your council for help.

On November 20th of this year, my favorite band, The Black Crowes, is playing at the Tabernacle – the same night that my wife’s favorite band, Celtic Thunder, is playing at the Fox.  My wife and I have 2 small kids and the only time we’re able to go out is on Saturday nights, which means me going to the Friday Crowes show is out of the question.

I cannot conceive of a solution to this problem that will not result in a lifetime of mutual hatred and bitter resentment which will ultimately tear our marriage and our lives apart.

How would you handle this dilemma?

Help me Steve. You got me into this mess. Now help me get out.

Chuck

PS. Do you remember the time I drunkenly and obnoxiously accosted you after a show in Rockford, Illinois in 2001? I hope not. I still feel kinda bad about that.

Chuck

Yes, I do remember that encounter in Rockford.  I know you think I am kidding, but I assure you that I am not.  You were, truly, THAT obnoxious.  But don’t worry, as you are long since forgiven.  I too was drunk once, and I too found myself acting  kinda silly.    Live and learn.

A few questions:

1)  If Celtic Thunder (whatever that is – sounds like an Irish male stripper review to me) wasn’t in town that night, would your wife be with you at the BC gig?

2)  If the BC weren’t playing, would you be with your wife watching those pasty skinned drunks strut around with their blarney stones a swingin’?

3)  Finally, are you guys handcuffed together?  Can no one find a key to unlock those things?

Because if not, here’s how I would handle it:  I’d go to the Tabernacle, and my wife would go to the Fox.  I’d have a good time seeing my favorite band, and she would have a good time seeing her favorite, um, whatever the hell it is.  Maybe we would have friends with us, maybe we’d go solo.  Maybe one of us would be with friends and the other solo.  Who knows?  Doesn’t really matter.  We’d both be having fun!   We’d both get home late, climb into bed and exchange the details of our respective nights, and eventually fall asleep, content in the knowledge that our relationship is strong enough to handle the incredible strain put upon it by a night spent exactly 1.4 miles apart having separate good times.  Crazy, huh?

The fact that this solution might lead to a “lifetime of mutual hatred and bitter resentment” isn’t really something I feel comfortable commenting on, because you didn’t ask me how to handle that.   You asked me to help you with one specific night, and I have done so.  Because, you know, I’d never be one to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.  Like say, into someone’s marriage, leading me to speculate that the marriage in question is clearly built upon insecurity, jealousy, self loathing, and confused feelings that probably made sense in adolescence but no longer carry any shred of relevance.

No, sir, I’d never do that.

But, if you’d like me to help in that regard, then by all means write back.  I am here for you, man!

See you at the show!

SG

Steve,

Love your Q & A.

I live in Moscow, Russia and have now for about 8 years.

I know you guys were here in 1991 or so.  Got any good stories from the trip?

I’m really curious about how things have changed in the intervening years.

Oh, and you guys need to come back for a Russian tour!!

T in Moscow

T in Moscow

A few things stand out in my memory, which is admittedly hazy.

Here’s the condensed version:

Flew on a Friday from Luton (UK) to Moscow on a private jet with Metallica.

After a long flight, a long drive into town, and the uncomfortable realization that our hotel was ignoring a serious cockroach crisis, eleven of us, along with two interpreters, went to an exclusive Italian restaurant in the center of town.   The only other patrons in the restaurant that night were aging Soviet military officers and their prostitutes.  At least I think they were prostitutes.  I don’t remember anyone saying anything about it being “Take Your Scantily Clad, Heavily Made Up, Cheap Perfume-Soaked Niece To Dinner Day”, but then again, my Russian was dodgy at best and a lot of what the interpreters were saying went right past me.

Over the course of a long evening, we drank countless cocktails and over 30 bottles of wine ( I am not exaggerating – it was one of the greatest drink ups I have ever been a part of) and stuffed ourselves like the capitalist pigs that we were.  (When the charge showed up on the band credit card bill three months later, it totaled $36 – clearly not a great time for the ruble.)

At the end of the meal, Jason offered to tip the waiter in US dollars, knowing they held great value on the black market.  He handed the guy $50.  The waiter took it, his eyes exploded, and he immediately turned and ran through the front door of the restaurant.  We didn’t see him again.  The interpreter said “he won’t work again for years….that will cover all his needs for a long, long time.”

Incidentally, this was ONE MONTH after the August coup attempt.  The USSR officially went out of business two months later.  It was an incredibly stressful time in Moscow, and you could feel it in the air, instantly upon arrival, like humidity.

We all got up early on Saturday morning and went to Red Square.  I was excited to see the Kremlin and St. Basil’s Cathedral, and was surprised to see that, up close, St. Basil’s looked to be in total disrepair.  I assume it’s had a fresh paint job since then.

Along with my cousin, Jeffrey, who worked for the band then, I stood in line for over an hour to get a look at Lenin, lying in state since the 20′s.  I had every intention of sneaking a photo of good old Vladimir Ilyich, despite the armed guards everywhere and the many signs saying that photos were forbidden.   I had inexplicably, whilst struggling through the quagmire of one of the worst hangovers ever,  convinced myself that I could get away with it.   If I had only taken the time to learn how to turn my new camera’s flash off, I would have gone for it.  And then, of course, I would have been arrested and imprisoned.  So, you know, sometimes it pays not to read the manual.

All around Red Square, there were long queues leading to kiosks -  hundreds, even thousands of people all waiting for free goods.  We asked several people, via our interpreter, in various lines what they were waiting for, and not one of them ever knew.  One guy said “I don’t know, but I am hoping for socks”.

The show later that day was insane.  600,000 people in a huge field.  I have never seen anything like it.  There were massive bonfires that looked to be miles away shooting up from the center of the throng.   The funny thing was that the people in charge were apologizing to all the bands saying, “We were expecting 1,000,000 people….this is a disappointment.”

40,000 Red Army troops were on hand acting as security.  By “acting as security”, I mean they occasionally rode on horseback into the middle of the crowd to beat the living shit out of large groups of fans for no discernible reason.

Our dressing room was an army tent.  Chris stepped outside at one point to take a leak by a tree (the only option that we were aware of) and a soldier came up from behind and kicked him, kung fu style, right in the kidneys, and yelled at him in Russian.  Chris took that to mean, “Excuse me, sir, could you not urinate here?  Thanks, and have a great show!”

After our set, which truthfully I remember nothing about, we started trading swag with the soldiers.  One Black Crowes T-Shirt was worth a Red Army overcoat and hat.  When we ran out of Crowes shirts, they were asking for our jeans, belts, anything….and when we told them we had nothing else to trade, they just gave us more stuff anyway.  For a couple dozen shirts, I swear they would have given us a tank.  In fact, a soldier actually did attempt to give us a car.  It was a total wreck, but the engine was running.  I was all for hopping in and driving it into a tree or something cool like that, but I couldn’t get anyone to commit with me.

We got on a bus to leave the site for the airport, and it was immediately apparent that the guy in the driver’s seat didn’t know how to drive.  Our tour manager, interpreter, and “driver” had a lengthy chat, during which time the actual driver turned up.  We never figured out what the impostor had in mind -  maybe he was hoping we wouldn’t notice an extra member of the entourage as we fled the country.  He was thrown off the bus into the awaiting arms of some soldiers, and there’s no telling what they did to him.

True, manic chaos was the order of the day.  It was incredibly unsettling.

At midnight we got back to the airport, our bags overstuffed with Soviet army uniforms.   The security guards at the airport forbade us from leaving, accused us of stealing from the army, and picked up the phone to call the military police.  Our tour manager put a couple of ten pound notes on the table.  The guard hung up immediately, pocketed the cash,  and personally escorted us to the tarmac.

Metallica had already been sitting on the plane for an hour or so, and Lars was furious that we had kept them waiting.  He told us more than once that he had tried to get the pilots to leave, but his bandmates interceded on our behalf and made them wait for us.

After takeoff,  Jeffrey (later known as the Dancing Uncle Sam Crowe from the Amorica or Bust Tour) grabbed the flight attendant PA microphone and proceeded to mercilessly mock Lars in a two hour burst of spontaneous comedic performance art that still stands as the funniest 120 minutes in Black Crowes touring history.  No one laughed less than Lars, and no one laughed more than the other three guys in Metallica, which led to Hetfield offering Jeffrey a job on their upcoming tour.  (Fall of ’91, Black Album just released – not a bad time to jump ship had Jeffery opted to go.)  Hetfield asked me what Jeffrey did for us, and I said, “well, he sort of, um, he is supposed to, um, well, the truth is, he really doesn’t do anything”. To which he responded, “Well, I’ll double his pay to do nothing for us!” Jeffrey balked at the offer, and probably wonders to this day just what in the hell he was thinking.

(I ran into James in LA eight years later, and the first thing he said to me was, “How’s your cousin?  He was the funniest dude I ever met!”)

We landed back in the UK at around 3 am local time and parted ways.  Metallica went off to do whatever they were doing and we went off to start our first headlining UK tour.

All in all, a pretty wild two days.

Something tells me things have changed a little since then.

Спасибо, что написали

SG

Hey Steve,

I’m feeling guilty about making a particular decision and I think you are the only one that can either alleviate this terrible feeling or elevate it to a point where I may never be able to make the same decision again.

I own every Black Crowes album on CD and I even have some of them on vinyl! (This is a big deal for someone who is thirty years old). I have seen you and your rock n’ roll combo in concert a number of times. I even stood in line over night during one of Toronto’s worst snow storms in order to get passes to a club show you played in January of 1999 to promote By Your Side.  And yes, I will be attending the Massey Hall show this October.

That being said, the decision I’m about to make involves the way in which I’m about to appropriate the Croweology album. I was ready to purchase a vinyl copy of Croweology on Amazon.com when I noticed that the vinyl edition will not be available until the end of this month, so I decided to purchase a CD copy. At the very moment I was about to make the purchase, my friend hands me a USB stick that contains a downloaded version of the album in * lossless* format. I’m emphasizing the word lossless because if he had handed me an mp3 version, I would of brushed it aside like a five year old would a plate of broccoli.  What a shame it would be to hear Mr. Stacey’s excellent production values slip away into the world of lossy data compression!!

Now I’m not going to pretend that I’ve never accepted free downloaded music before, but for some reason I’m feeling guilty about taking the Crowes album!

Should I accept this free copy of Croweology knowing that I will be purchasing the vinyl edition, or would you like to give me shit for even considering it? Your thoughts on this would be greatly appreciated!

Thanks!

Fellow drummer, Black Crowes fan and disappointed Italian soccer fan (Go Juventus!),

Mike

Mike

First of all, congratulations on disproving the old myth that Juventus fans have no morals.  (Actually, I don’t know if that’s an old myth or not, but it sounded kind of funny.)

That ’99 gig in Toronto you mentioned was quite memorable for the blizzard that shut down the city and forced us to bunker down at our hotel for two extra days until we could get a flight.  Of course, the hotel also happened to have as registered guests about 150 Black Crowes fans from all over Canada that had been flown in for a contest. Between those fans  (who sat in the bar ALL DAY AND NIGHT FOR 48 STRAIGHT HOURS) and all the Sleeman Beer from room service that we could handle, we somehow survived the storm. Good times.

But, onto your situation:  Go ahead and take that USB stick, my friend.  Buying the album later in the month covers your conscience here.  By simply acknowledging a potential moral hazard, you have elevated yourself above 99% of all the current music listeners on planet earth, so you get bonus points for that.

(Of course, make sure you actually follow through on that vinyl purchase as soon as possible, and be sure to email in a photo of the receipt.  To double cross the music gods (re: me) on this would result in a catastrophic payback during the Toronto gig.  Don’t think we can’t find you, Mike.  Seriously.  A guy named Mike. Toronto.  Juventus fan.  More than enough to go on.  I can have my guy on this case immediately.  Don’t mess with me.  You buy that vinyl.  Got it?)

Enjoy Croweology and thanks for your many years of support!

SG

Steve,

I am at a crossroads in my life and I need your advice.

1) Is it best to live a life of debauchery as a bachelor, or is it best to tie the knot, make some babies, and lead a stable life?

2) Do you think tying the knot is essential to a stable and respectable lifestyle?

3) Why is marriage considered stable if so many couples are filing for divorce?

4) Why do some women believe bachelors are selfish for choosing to stay single rather than choosing to get tied down?

5) Isn’t it enough that we pay for their drinks at the bar?

But seriously, help me out here before I make a bad decision.

Bachelor in Distress

B.I.D.

Well, let’s see here.  If you look up “debauch” in a thesaurus, you will get the following list: corrupt, debase, deprave, warp, pervert, lead astray, ruin.

So, for starters, there’s that.

Do these words fit into an accurate description of how you lead your life?  Because if so, you should know up front that when the karma train rounds the bend and starts heading back in your direction, there won’t be a spiritual epiphany or a tax deductible donation big enough to stop that locomotive of vengeance from grinding your selfish ass into salt.

That said, I’ll assume you aren’t using “debauchery” literally (you know, like how everyone on earth likes to apply the word “surreal” to anything vaguely unusual…..arrghh) and move on by answering each question individually.

1)  It’s best for you to stop thinking of societal expectations and figure out who you are and what you want to be.

2)  Absolutely not.  Accountability for the lifestyle you choose is essential to stability and respectability.  (Well, that, and an avoidance of the activities from the aforementioned thesaurus list, of course.)

3)  Because a lot of folks don’t let the facts to get in the way of a good story.

4)  I don’t know, and I don’t care.  You shouldn’t either.

5)  You’re quickly losing my attention.

SG

Steve

If you had a tail, what kind of tail would you have and why?

This question was asked of me by my American History teacher many many moons ago and I was unable to come up with an answer and am still perplexed by it today, over 20 years later.

It’s is an honor and a privilege to be able to pose such serious questions to a thinker and philosopher like yourself.

Thanks,

Timp

Timp

A total no brainer – I’d go with a beaver tail.

It would help me steer as I swim.

It would prop me up as I stand on my hind legs to get a better view of things…..not to mention give me a strong base to lean on whilst I chew through trees.

I suppose I’d also use the tail to help me loudly warn other beavers (or other humans with beaver tails – I believe they’re called Castaurs) of approaching danger by violently slapping it on the water.

There’s really no limit to the helpfulness of my beaver tail.

Just thinking about how cool it would be kind of bums me out.

Oh well….maybe in the next world.

SG

Hey Steve,

Any advice on how to deal with regret?  Please tell me how I can move on from bad decisions, missed opportunities, stuff like that.

Thanks a lot,

Dave

Dave

Regret is a natural and necessary part of living, learning, and growing.

At least I think that’s the case.

I mean, I think that’s what I think.  Hell, maybe I just read that on a coffee cup somewhere.  Who knows?

Whatever the case, I guess you should try to learn from your mistakes and make sure not to repeat them. It’s not that tough, really.

What I mean is that it’s not too tough for me to say.  It’s not too tough to understand as a concept.

Damn near impossible to actually do,  though!  Trust me on that one.  Whew, boy…tough as nails.

SG

Dear Steve

I am the CEO of a fairly large publicly-traded company and I have been a huge Crowes fan since 1991.  No problem here, everyone knows this.  What is more problematic is that nobody knows I have been going to tons of shows every year.  I have business all over the world so I travel quite a bit, and since 2005 I have been scheduling much of that travel based on your touring schedule (I even hit the London and Paradiso shows a few years back).  I go to shows alone and get to meet and hang out with other Crowes fans as part of my travel schedule.

This has created a double life that is unique in that I am sneaking around, but actually doing nothing wrong.  Folks at the shows don’t know that I am part of the establishment, and folks at home don’t know that I am dancing my ass off with my dirt bag brethren.

Is this a healthy dichotomy or should I let honesty reign and own up to what I am doing and where I am doing it?

Regards,

Respectable Sneak

Respectable Sneak

Nah, relax, it’s plenty healthy.  There’s no reason to tell anybody anything.

If you tell the folks at work, sure, some of them might think less of you but then (and this is far worse) some of them might actually say they want to join you on your next BC roadtrip.  Gross!

If you tell the folks at a show, suddenly they’ll be treating you like you’re a cop AND expecting you to buy them more beer.  Gross again!

Keep the double life alive, my friend.  Hell, you’ve been doing it long enough now, so why not throw a third in there, too?

Challenge yourself!  Get creative!

Wear some surgical scrubs to your next show.

Start walking with a cane.

Whatever.

Go crazy, Sneak, and have fun doing it.

Keep me posted.

And while you’re at it, if there’s anything else you’d like to share with me about this so called “fairly large publicly traded company” that you’re running….let’s just say I’d listen.

SG

Hey Steve,

I was hooked up by a friend who gave me a SGS tee shirt with the podcast logo emblazoned across the front and wore it to the Hampton Beach show on June 6.

I cannot over-exaggerate how many leering dudes couldn’t stop looking at my chest.

I am a 39-year-old male.  Suddenly, now I can relate to what Hooters waitresses must go through.

Psychologically, I am damaged.

I need help.

What should I do?

Don from Boston

Don

Suck it up, fella.

You’re simply getting back what you’ve been giving all these years and you know, turnabout is always fair play.

It’s simple – if you hadn’t been a leering cad all your life, you’d probably feel a great sense of pride when noticing other men paying attention to your T-Shirt.  (And let’s not kid ourselves, that shirt IS wicked awesome)

You mentioned psychological damage, though – not pride.  This tells me that your subconscious knows all too well the damage you have wrought over the years with your own wandering eyes, whether you want to admit it or not.

It’s time to pay the piper.

It’s time to admit your troubling ways and make a change.

Simply put…it’s time to evolve, Don.

You know, like the old saying goes –  “Stop leering and start living!”

Also, I couldn’t help but notice that instead of simply saying “women”, which would have made perfect sense, you went with “Hooters waitresses”.  You also mentioned that you’re 39.

Hmmmm.

Do I really need to go on?

SG

http://www.kurtsshirts.com/shirts/stevegormansports.html

Hey Steve

Hypothetical: It’s the mid-nineties. Jimmy Page*  and Les Claypool**  offer you the chance to join them to form the greatest supergroup power trio in the history of rock and/or roll. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you and a dream come true. However, taking the job means screwing over the other guys in the Crowes as well as your loyal and adoring fans to whom you mean so much.

What decision do you make?

How do you handle it?

Chuck in Atlanta

*  or Eric Clapton or “insert-your-favorite-living-guitarist-at-the-time here”

**  or John Entwistle or Phil Lesh or “insert-your-favorite-living-bassist-at-the-time- here”

Chuck

My mantra has always been, “Life Rewards Action”.  Therefore, I jump ship.

The decision takes four seconds.  One to decide, and three to act like I am struggling with it.

I handle it like I handle all major decisions in life – without a second thought and with absolutely no looking back.

Oh, and of course, I get on a conference call with the boys and say something heartfelt and sensitive like, “I’ll be taking my talents to the United Kingdom”.  I mean, who could have a problem with me saying something like that?

SG