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An Albatross
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I should probably explain something here. Borders are a whole different experience for a band than they are for normal people. Actually, any border crossing, any checkpoint, any speeding ticket,
virtually any interaction with authorities that should normally take seconds has the possibility of hours with a band. Police and customs officials often eye bands with a high degree of suspicion, and we are
always under additional scrutiny. We have been detained at multiple borders all over the world, searched repeatedly at airports, sniffed by countless police dogs and had our van, equipment and luggage torn
apart on plenty of occasions by people with badges who all think they're on to the bust of their lives, Constitution be damned. Just to be clear, they have always been wrong -- and they always will be -- but
that doesn't mean they can't make our lives miserable in the process. Five years ago we were denied entry to Canada because our paperwork was out of whack, three years ago we spent hours in southern
California while the Border Patrol searched our van, and we've spent a few extra days in Calais waiting for English bureaucrats to let us cross the Channel.
This time, however, we have our work permits and passports in order and display a fair amount of confidence as we pull up to the border. As usual, they send us inside into Customs where they actually prove
rather friendly. They ask us about our merch, our payment, our itinerary and the odd stamp on my passport (Greenland, courtesy of M-80's New Years voyage to play for the Air Force). Thankfully, they are mercifully short with us and we are soon on our way, frantically scrambling down the last of our GPS directions and calling loved ones before our phones go into roaming for the several days.
Hours later we arrive at L'Agitée and load our equipment for soundcheck. It's freezing cold up here, and the rain doesn't help. The Festival feeds us some pasta and beer, and soon our friends from Montreal arrive. We spend some time catching up before they play an outrageously good set.
We've never played Quebec City before, and when it's our turn the crowd gives us some much-needed support, yelling wildly and giving us a warm welcome to their town. After playing we make our way to L' Université Laval, where they've reserved a strange multiple-room dorm area for us. We cook up some Ramen for dinner and hit the hay happy and content.
Thursday October 02, 2008 | 03:00 PM
We wake up painfully early and pile into the van, exhausted and anxious about the border as we ride through Vermont.I should probably explain something here. Borders are a whole different experience for a band than they are for normal people. Actually, any border crossing, any checkpoint, any speeding ticket,
virtually any interaction with authorities that should normally take seconds has the possibility of hours with a band. Police and customs officials often eye bands with a high degree of suspicion, and we are
always under additional scrutiny. We have been detained at multiple borders all over the world, searched repeatedly at airports, sniffed by countless police dogs and had our van, equipment and luggage torn
apart on plenty of occasions by people with badges who all think they're on to the bust of their lives, Constitution be damned. Just to be clear, they have always been wrong -- and they always will be -- but
that doesn't mean they can't make our lives miserable in the process. Five years ago we were denied entry to Canada because our paperwork was out of whack, three years ago we spent hours in southern
California while the Border Patrol searched our van, and we've spent a few extra days in Calais waiting for English bureaucrats to let us cross the Channel.
This time, however, we have our work permits and passports in order and display a fair amount of confidence as we pull up to the border. As usual, they send us inside into Customs where they actually prove
rather friendly. They ask us about our merch, our payment, our itinerary and the odd stamp on my passport (Greenland, courtesy of M-80's New Years voyage to play for the Air Force). Thankfully, they are mercifully short with us and we are soon on our way, frantically scrambling down the last of our GPS directions and calling loved ones before our phones go into roaming for the several days.
Hours later we arrive at L'Agitée and load our equipment for soundcheck. It's freezing cold up here, and the rain doesn't help. The Festival feeds us some pasta and beer, and soon our friends from Montreal arrive. We spend some time catching up before they play an outrageously good set.
We've never played Quebec City before, and when it's our turn the crowd gives us some much-needed support, yelling wildly and giving us a warm welcome to their town. After playing we make our way to L' Université Laval, where they've reserved a strange multiple-room dorm area for us. We cook up some Ramen for dinner and hit the hay happy and content.
About the Author
Phillip Price is the keyboard player for Wilkes-Barre-based band An Albatross.
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