|Hermano - Son'Art, Bordeaux, France|
|Recorded at the Son'Art, Bordeaux, France. Great audience recording.
From the info file:
Hermano - Angry American Tour - 2004-11-24 @ Son'Art, Bordeaux, France, Aud, 1h 17mn 17s.
Excellent audience recording on Sony TCD-D8 DAT corder with Sony ECM 717 mic.>VIA optical cable>Hercules GT XP 7.1 Soundcard>Cool Edit Pro (minor edits)>FLAC FrontEnd
1. Angry American
2. 5 to 5
3. The Bottle
5. Cowboys Suck
6. My Boy
7. Brother Bjork
8. Alone Jeffe
9. Roll Over
10. Letís Get it On
11. Is This OK?
13. Quite Fucked
15. Senor Morenoís Plan
16. Managerís Special
17. Green Machine
Vocals - John Garcia
Guitar - David Angstrom
Bass - Dandy Brown
Drums - Chris Leathers
2nd guitar - Olly Smit (Celestial Season)
Hermano Tour Report
Angry American Tour
November 23, 2004
'We woke up just as Willie was driving us across the bridge into the city. Bordeaux rose like a blackened ghost against the river bank. There
was a hazy kind of atmosphere that hung around the architecture, making it appear ethereal and lonely.
Along the main thoroughfare, there was a small house that was surrounded by a rusty iron gate. Outside of it, a man dressed in a laboratory
coat ushered a woman from the building, seemingly comforting some kind of stress she was going through. He smiled at her nervously as he
held her hands for a few moments before she turned and moved toward the gate alone. The bus began to move again as she passed
through the gate and out to the sidewalk. She looked complacent, and happy to press through another day. Itís strange to have those be the
first images of the day, Itís the kind of thing that hushes the soul briefly, and makes a traveler remember that he is thousands upon
thousands of miles from home.
Moving through the city toward the venue, we passed narrow street after narrower street lined by the uniqueness of the southern European
architecture. It is truly a world apart. Maybe it could be compared to sections of New Orleans if the imagination was stretched, but there is
something about the enormity of the stone that makes it appear as though giants once moved through the streets long ago. Really, the
buildings arenít that tall, rising three or four stories at the most above the city streets. They just appear to be enormous. I wonder if they
simply breathe with the romance of the south, and in the inhalation of that emotion they puff out in some kind of optical illusion that makes
the observer dizzy with the power of romantic thoughts.
At the end of an alley, we parked and began to unload into the Son Arts. From the moment we entered the club, it was obvious that the folks
on the staff were eager to be involved with the events of the evening. It seemed like they were prepared with every answer before we had a
chance to come up with the questions. Sophie ran here and there, and didnít seem to stop the entire night. ďSouthern hospitalityĒshould be a
Away from the venue for maybe a half an hour, we returned to find it filled with people whose eyes were filled with anticipation. Goddamn,
what an incredibly humbling experience to have all of these folks interested in what we are doing. It is audiences like the one in Bordeaux
that makes us want to pull out every damn song we have ever learned just so we wonít have to leave the stage until we have exhausted
everything . . . and thatís just what we tried to do until the club let us know it was time to finish.'