Anxiety Isn't All Bad, Happy Record Store Day

Anxiety gets a bad wrap. It's a crippling evil bastard that takes your brain hostage and runs on irrational fear. While anxiety totally blows in many instances, it also invites a sense of urgency which can be turned into forward progress and motivation. The highs are high. The lows are low. Fortunately, it's these polarizing feelings that lead to good art. The inner dialogue is a beast that must be defeated. That's why "save me from myself" is the most recycled lyric of all time. (note: "save me from myself" is not an actual lyric in the song). Enter "Cigaretiquette:" an "anti-anxiety" song about losing the zen just as quickly as you found it. It was filmed by Russell Grant in Durban, South Africa & Sweet Chucky B in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. South Africa is the first place I started touring & a big motivating factor in pursuing touring for a living. Extra thanks to my Durban pals and all the folks who've helped me along in South Africa.

In honor of record store day, here's a special on the Cigaretiquette 7" vinyl split with Blessed Feathers (AZ). Cheers to a happy and low-stress 2016.

[products ids="2801" columns="2"]

Health Hiatus | Brett Goes to Hospital

After seeing numerous doctors on days-off, we've decided it's best to cancel the upcoming six-show east coast run and recharge the health-o-meter. While I'm never one to cancel dates, these are dire times and I need to get fixed up.

We'll be back in full force on a new LP this fall and are completely amped. Fresh songs and new episodes of Crusty Adventures are being finalized as we speak. While my bitch-ass stomach is a setback, the off-time will fully recharge our morale, stamina and creative juices. Thank you for the understanding and support. Of course, if any of you have been thru chronic GERD, bloating and upper GI issues, ideas for remedies are soooo welcomed :)

Much respect, Brett

Help us name our American tourmobile

After a month off, The Danimal and I are back on the road. Morale has reached new heights in the wake of last weekend's back-to-back hometown shows in Madison and Milwaukee, followed by our infamous appearance on Des Moines' KCWI 23 morning news. Much respect to all our super buddies and allies for kicking this tour off properly. Iowa has been good to us this last week and tonight we team up with Kiernan McMullan and Carter Hulsey at Martyr's in Chicago. We're riding across the cuntry inside The Danimal's electric steed and per tradition, our tourmobile needs a name. We erected a list of names during our trek across Iowa, but welcome your ideas too. Pitch us your write-ins and we'll add them to the list below. The polls are open, the vote is on. Pick your top three favorites...

---

[poll id="4"]

---

Brett Newski on the KCWI 23 Great Day morning show Des Moines

Crusty Adventures #14 - Brett Ruins The News

We arrived in Des Moines at 7:30am for the KCWI 23 Great Day Sound Stage, only to be embarrassed beyond levels of which I can come back from... https://youtu.be/PWpfVVNT4-I

FULL VIDEO

We're excited to bring back Crusty Adventures as the US tour begins. Share the love if you're a fan and want to support. If not, feel free to send us some hate mail here

Much respect,

Brett & The Danimal

Why Shaquille O'neal Hates Me

My dreams have been shattered twice in my life. The first was the full disclosure of Santa Claus. The second was this…

LA, California, year 2000:

I was 13. We were on a family trip to Los Angeles to visit my Uncle Marcus. At the time, L.A. was home to 3-time NBA champion Shaquille O’neal. Like many kids, I thought Shaq was the coolest human on the planet. He was funny. He was tall. And obviously, he could ball. Shaq was 7’1’’. I wanted to be 7’1’’ someday.

My uncle’s girlfriend had recently been released from an administrative role with the L.A. Lakers. She still knew the security guard and was able to get us into the Laker’s practice facility parking lot before the team arrived.

We waited outside the doors with our pens and sports memorabilia like hungry puppies waiting to suck the sweet nectar from the teat of championship glory. It was just me and my little brother waiting for Shaq, our parents watching from a distance. Recently I’d watched all the subpar films starring Shaquille O’neal (Kazamm, Steel, Blue Chips). I even wasted $4 of my parents’ money by renting his video game “Shaq Fu” and another $12 on his rap album. I didn’t care if he sucked at rapping, or free throw shooting. Shaq could do no wrong in the eyes of my 13-year-old head. This was the day I would meet Shaq. Here I stood, on the stoop of destiny in Los Angeles, California.

Sure enough, all the players came rolling in with pimp Cadillacs and oversized SUV’s. They were all there; Rick Fox, known for his dashing good looks and marriage to actress Vanessa Williams. Horace Grant, known as a legendary role-player to Michael Jordan, and of course Kobe Bryant, known by some as being better than Michael Jordan. They were friendly, signing our Laker gear and posing for a picture. We met the entire team, minus Shaq. We couldn’t have missed him?

It was 7:59 a.m., just one minute before the start of practice. STILL NO SHAQ. Laker team policy stated that players would be fined if they showed up late (something like $3,000). It was now 8:00 a.m. Shaq was definitely getting fined if he didn’t show up with a medical excuse from a doctor.

As time passed, my little brother and I began to lose hope. As we walked to the exit gates, a humungous Cadillac Escalade came though the security entrance. We dashed back to the player entrance. THIS WAS IT.

The Cadillac door opened. It was not Shaq, but a short stocky man in a shiny leather jacket. He looked hard as nails.

“What is this?!” he shouted at the security guard, pissed that two kid superfans would be delaying his players entry. “They’re friends of the program”, replied the security guard, attempting to cover his own ass. Little kid NBA fans were not permitted on the premises.

Turns out this short man was Shaq’s body guard. Another dark silhouette lurked behind the passenger side tinted windows. The door clicked open.…Shaq emerged from the passenger side door in a grey jumpsuit similar to those sported by Vanilla Ice in 1990. I was star-struck and scared speechless. I feared Shaq would be pissed for showing up late and getting fined. And he was.

Kobe.

I remember trying not to pee a dribble in my pants as Shaq approached. He towered over us, casting a Godzilla-sized shadow on the parking lot. We were the only thing between him and the door. Shaq’s face was negate of smiles as his body guard bitched out security for letting us in. We shouldn’t be here.

I wanted to ask him questions, like why he let pop-star Aaron Carter beat him in a game of one-on-one. How many backboards has he shattered? Did he take kung fu in preparation for Shaq-Fu? I wanted to ask these things, but fear manhandled the muscles around my jaw. This was not the smiley, huggable Shaq of mainstream media. This was “Behind-the-Glory E Hollywood Story” Shaq. His giant yellow eyes peered into the bottom of my soul as my inner dialogue said over and over, “Shaq hates me.” We made him late for practice.

I died a little inside that day, leaving the Laker practice facility feeling gloom for days. I had convinced myself of ruining Shaq’s day and costing him further fines from the Laker franchise. But my 13-year-old heart would later learn to understand that my hero hadn’t let me down, he just hadn’t lived up to my expectations. There was truly a valuable lesson to be taken from this.

SET THE BAR LOW. An encounter with Shaquille O’neal had been hyped up in my mind for years. Not to mention a young mind tends to magnify the fantastical elements. The bar was simply set way too high, and that garners expectations. Expectations are usually synonymous with crappy things like stress, pressure, and let downs. People don’t go to a Bob Dylan concert expecting him to sound like he did on the old records. The show would have a greater probability of sucking. It sounds pessimistic, but it’s just realistic. People shouldn’t order the “Perfect Pushup” from an infomercial and expect to get a Fabio six-pack of abs. But they do.

From youth, we’re often told “Dream big, dream big. Follow your dreams.” While that’s said with good intentions, it’s the same stuff sold by motivational speakers exploiting mental weakness at three easy payments of $39.95.

“Dream small” is the way to go. It sounds lazy, but it’s just vigilant. Shaq didn’t shatter my dreams, I shattered my own humongous, fragile dreams. Shaq probably dreamed of walking into practice unbothered, swishing a few free throws and dunking in some fool’s face. That is a small dream, an unshatterable dream that led the man to great success.

I don’t want anyone’s dreams to be shattered for anything. DREAM SMALL. You can’t control the dreams in your sleep, but you can control the dreams when you’re awake. They’re powerful and shouldn’t be tampered with. A dream can get a naked Beyonce into your bed, but it can also put Dracula underneath it.

Dream small. Dream often.

"Don't Let the Bastards Get You Down" (vinyl or CD)

from $10.00

FAILED HIPSTER shirt

$25.00

Americans Still Prefer YouPorn to Your Band, Studies Say: New EP Trailer

A friend/acquaintance of mine named Ezra Furman once explained to me the brutality of touring in America. Coining it as the "gauntlet", the US is a place where entertainment options are infinite and listener attention spans are at record lows. BUT it's the best time to be a music fan, a free-for-all rock buffet where Spotify is responsible for even more girth than General Tao's Chicken. For artists, it's us vs YouTube. Us vs the bar. Us vs Netflix. These are all seemingly undefeatable enemies, BUT if we hit the garage hard enough and practice, the live experience is irreplaceable. So cheers to you show-goers out there. When the rest of America stayed home and watched YouPorn, YOU came out to experience something REAL that cannot be replaced by any turbo 7G internet system. On behalf of touring bands everywhere, we are honored, humbled and thankful to you for keeping live music alive.

Hi-Fi D.I.Y. comes out Feb 19 in the US. We haven't toured the USA in over a year & are amped to see you guys. Much respect, Brett & Danimal

Crusty Adventures #13 - Around the World in 155 Days

After riding rickety trains across Sri Lanka, Brett & Danimal make it all the way to Australia, where they loiter in the slacker suburbs of Melbourne and plan for the US release of the "Hi-Fi DIY" EP. It's the home stretch of a 5 month world tour where they'll surpass their 930th show in Sydney.

A Personal Note

This has been a long adventure circling around the globe, with plenty of soaring highlights and some deflating moments. We hit it hard in Europe for three straight months–the longest consecutive tour I've ever endured. Sri Lanka brought some much needed decompression in paradise (maybe a little too much). Now the return to America is on the horizon while we soak up blazing heat of Australia. This will be the last episode of Crusty Adventures season 1 as we prepare to launch Hi-Fi DIY in the US and regroup for our second season over the next few weeks. Making these episodes has been loads of laughs and hours of work. We sincerely hope you enjoy watching them and sharing the adventures with us, while we plow across planet Earth. If you're a fan, feel free to share these Crusty Adventures.

Much Respect,

Brett & The Danimal

Crusty Adventures #12 - Brett gets his shoe signed by Chuck Ragan

Brett and the Danimal venture up to the Italian Alps and re-enact one of the most classic Hollywood scenes ever. Oscar-bound...

Crusty Adventures #11 - Should Danimal Shave His Beard

In the depths of the steaming Sri Lankan jungle, Brett & Danimal poll the locals, surfers and YOU about shaving his 4-month tour beard. Help decide the fate of his face in the poll below. Thanks to Drive Thru Surf Camp for putting us up.

Starting Count: 9 Yes 14 No

The polls close promptly at midnight on the New Year so spread some propaganda. [poll id="3"]

Crusty Adventures #10 - Let It Snow

The Danimal and I are cooped up in a chicken shack in Sri Lanka, counting stars under the central Asian sky. Here, there are bats the size of bald eagles and spiders the size of a Vin Diesel fist. We have two more weeks in Asia, writing and recording a new album. This week we set out on the vintage Sri Lankan railway to film more Crusty Adventures through bizarre terrain covered by water buffalo, jumbo crocodiles and people who really suck at driving. Much love to our new friends at DriveThru Surfcamp for putting us up. I strongly recommend checking them out if you're a surfer person, they treat their guests well and show them a killer time on the island. This week's episode is a totally wack holiday treat shot in Prague, CZ. Merry holidays, jabronies!

Brett & The Danimal

Hi-Fi DIY Tour Marches into Australia

After 56 shows on European soil, we are posting-up in Sri Lanka for the holidays to write songs and new episodes of Crusty Adventures. Meanwhile, the countdown to the OZ leg of the tour is quickly approaching. This mission includes 12 tour dates in the land down under, including MONA FOMA FEST in Tasmania, curated by fellow Milwaukean and Violent Femmes bassist Brian Ritchie.

---

HI-FI DIY WORLD TOUR: AUSTRALIA & TASMANIA

Thu, 7 Jan - Yarra Hotel | Melbourne Fri, 8 Jan - Soundbar | Rye Sat, 9 Jan - Saints & Sailors | Port Arlington Wed, 13 Jan - Ararat Live | Ararat Thu, 14 Jan - MONA FOMA Festival | Hobart Fri, 15 Jan - MONA FOMA Festival | Hobart Sat, 16 Jan - MONA FOMA Festival | Hobart Sun, 17 Jan - MONA FOMA Festival | Hobart Fri, 29 Jan - Mr Falcon's | Sydney Sat, 30 Jan - Mr Falcon's | Sydney

---

Time is standing still here on the southern shore of Sri Lanka. We're staying next to the equator for three weeks with our pals at DriveThru Surfcamp (even though we suck at surfing). Three days ago a local dude got eaten by a crocodile, so I think I'll just to hang out in the swimming pool. Last night was our first Sri Lankan show with the surfcampers and local beach chum, followed by prompt party execution from our gracious hosts. Before shipping out for OZ, we play here one last time at the Surfcamp's New Years Eve Super Party. Time to regroup and unwind in paradise after the big haul through Europe. Looking forward to a few weeks off and our debut appearance in Australia.

Much respect, Brett & Danimal