A live video of Seat 16b - one month before lockdown

Hello - Sam here from the band. 

2020 has been difficult. It will continue to be difficult, but I’d like to share this video in case a hopeful song from a pre-pandemic release show makes your day a bit more bearable.

For all of my adult life, my love for songs has led me to people I love. Songs have driven me to shows where I met lifelong friends. Those friends have challenged and fostered me to become a fuller person. And it’s all given me a reverence for the invisible things that make us feel a little less alone.

About half a year ago, a bunch of our songs made their way into the world. I gathered with a bunch of onstage friends to play them to a bunch of offstage friends. We gave those songs a chance to love and be loved. It was Friday, February 21st, 2020 at Ace of Cups - a month before this became unimaginable.

I haven’t fully grieved the loss of shows like this. I don’t know when they’ll return. But songs are a source of comfort and solace for me. They kick me out of apathy and into action. They remind me that we can do big things together. They remind me that we can make the world a bit more beautiful by putting some elbow grease into our hopes.

I hope this time capsule gives you a little bit of hope today,

Sam & Hello Emerson

-----

Credits

Sam Bodary - songs, guitar, voice

Dan Seibert - percussion, musical direction

Jack Doran - keyboards

Eli Chambers - bass

Erin Mason - voice

Anna Miller - cello

Devin Copfer - violin

Leah Anderson - violin

Rachael Keplin - viola

Lee Tucker - trumpet

Nick Weckman - trombone

Alex Burgoyne - saxophone

Jon Weisbrot - saxophone

Tony Rice - live sound

Victoria Butash - mix

Reece Thompson - video

Ace of Cups - venue

An Easter Sunday Journal Excerpt

I spent some time journaling today. I was focused on capturing some notes of what life is like right now. I assume younger people will ask us about what this time was like, and I want to have at least a few notes to build a decent answer from. Some excerpts are below.

EASTER SUNDAY | APRIL 12, 2020

We toured for two and a half weeks in German, came home, and had a release show. Then about a month later, we went on lockdown along with the rest of the world.

There’s a good deal of pressure to make good use of “all the time we have” but I don’t feel like I have more time than average. We don’t go out, except to pick up groceries every week or so (though we get most from a CSA) and pick up food from take-out once or twice a week. 

A line outside the local butcher shop. Four people allowed inside at a time, plenty of room between patient people lined up outside.

Sometimes I think I should be documenting these weeks to have a record in the future. This seems like the thing we will tell our children about. But, honestly, I’ve found such a balm in old seasons of reality TV. This week, we realized that we spent more time with the contestants of 2016's Love Island UK than our friends. It took an embarrassingly long time to realize that the entire conceit of the show relied on things we are now actively discouraged from doing. And there was some kind of perverse joy in bathing in the pettiness of it all.

As we came to the end of the season, we talked through some of the shame that we had for indulging in it. I think the media we consume works out parts of us, making them stronger. The show green-lit our judgement. But it also green-lit the idea of some sort of strange community, both with the people on screen and the people in front of them at home.

While watching a four-year-old reality show, it’s natural to look up the contestants in real life. Who is still together? Who hates each other? Kids? Weddings? When you do this, the real world creeps in. A contestant that we watch today will hang herself two years after, and will be already buried by the time we watch her first interview as she arrives at the villa full of sexy singles. Another couple will be happily married, with a little child in tow. We assume that they’re at home, quarantined like the rest of us, while the current season is cancelled because of the pandemic that we live in And it all kicks in the teeth of our conscience - regretting how I'm spending some of my time outside of the job I’m still lucky to have.

But sometime next week, I’ll begin training to decontaminate N95 masks, operating a system that Battelle just invented. I may spend weeks away from home and alone. And it will likely be full of long hours and repetition. And I’m thrilled. I’m excited to contribute directly to a solution right now. I feel lucky to have my health and a way to help. I feel lucky to rent an apartment to spend a morning writing in, scored by a beautiful new Laura Marling album.

For the people who ask us about this time in a few decades: I don’t know how this will all be looked back upon, but this is how it feels right now from my point of view inside my apartment, without an idea of when or how this all ends. Happy Easter. We’re all confused. And if you were here too, you might feel the same. I hope this all turns out mild, and no one ever wonders how we were during these months in early 2020. And I hope this story is limited to the early months of 2020. But then again, in January, I was unconcerned, touring Germany with two bandmates that I love very much in a Volkswagen Passat, playing songs in crowded rooms with strangers and sleeping in a different home every night.

So who knows. That’s the main message. No one knows what will happen, and we’re doing our best to make up the rules as we go to try to preserve what’s worth preserving and change what needs to be changed.

Sam - 25 and confused.

Germany Tour Recap Video

We recorded this on tour last month. You don't know what ya got til it's gone.

It's a time to be thankful for songs. It's a time to be thankful for rooms full of people. It's a time to be thankful for the opportunity to drive from city to city to play songs for rooms of people.

I'm thankful for the many people who took us in this February and March when we were in Germany, Austria, and the highways of the Czech Republic. I'm thankful for the people we played with, the people running the venues, the people running sound, the people who gave us a meal to eat, and the people who gave us a place to sleep.

I'm looking forward to a time when we can gather in rooms again. Until then, we can be thankful for what we had, helpful to the people around us, and hopeful for a future where we can share songs/food/stories/art/magic/education in rooms with each other again. Even if a good amount of that looks like staying at home.

Let's be smart, listen to medical professionals, and make sure as many of us get through this as possible.

Until then - songs help. Thanks to Colin Meloy for this one.

A note of thanks to Lilly Among Clouds

Last tour, I played some solo shows with a band called Lilly among clouds. We did the same this year as a trio. We met up with them in Essen - this is who they are.

Florian is the tour manager and percussionist. He makes me feel completely at home, comfortable, supported, and in good hands. He’s just plain a great band dad - and a good dad dad to his two kids. He normally plays with the band that his wife founded - Hundreds. He said that they recently played the Elbphilharmonie with an expanded band - strings, marimba, some other bits. We walked by the place when were in Hamburg. I don’t know what the inside looks like, but here’s the outside.

Birk plays electric guitar and bass. He studied pop music (because apparently you can do that here) and works as a producer on the side. He was also on tour with a production similar to Cirque du Solei for a few weeks recently. He’s full of positive energy and quick with a smile. He and Jack seem to listen to the same music and get the same floppy haircuts.

Gunnar is the sound engineer. We shared some hotel rooms on the last tour. He’s in a band called Staring Girl in Germany and ran sound for Lilly and us for everything show that we played together.

Sophia is playing keyboards for these shows. We found some of her music with a German electro-pop group called Koncentrat - we highly recommend it. They have james for days. We’re also very intimidated and impressed by how well her kiddo can play the drums. 

Lilly writes and sings the songs. She’s always been helpful and encouraging, especially as we feel far from home. She hops around stage like a madwoman when performing too - in a good way. She’s got a really unique vocal style/delivery/performance/tamber/tone.

I’m writing this on the plane home now, catching up on my reflections from the tour. I am genuinely going to miss them. When we drove away from the hotel after the last show, I felt sad in a way that I haven’t in a long time. And I feel a similar feeling now. 

I’m going to miss them. That’s a good thing - it means they are worth missing - and worth finding a reason to see again.

Sending goodness your way!

Nürnberg, Customs Police, and Folk's Worst Nightmare

We drove back to Germany to play in Nürnberg. On the way, we got searched by the Bavarian border.

We were scooting along on the highway a few kilometers past the German border when the car ahead of us flashed a message on an led screen through its back window. “Poleizi, follow me.” So, unsure whether or not this was legit, we followed it to the nearest exit. There waiting for us, was a full caravan of officers in a big, official-looking van. They asked us for our passports, driver’s license, and registration. Then, they took me out to the trunk while they inspected pieces of our luggage.

“Do you have any weed on you? Even a small amount? Like one gram? Two grams? Did you smoke weed last night in Vienna?”

They asked me to empty my pockets, gave my package a thorough pat-down, and then chatted about music for a bit. Unfortunately for them, we did not have weed in or on us. They pulled over the only folk band from the states on tour without any contraband. So, they dug through our luggage, and, finding nothing, let us go.

I asked why they had pulled us over - they said, “no reason - this is normal.”

---

Apparently, in Bavaria, this is indeed normal. We learned this when we talked to folks at the show.

Maike did hospitality and made us feel like the biggest band in the world. Tobi ran sound and lights, hitting a disco ball at the exact right time at the end of our set at the crescendo of Seat 16b.

Jan Bratenstein (The Black Elephant Band) set up the show through the alt/freak/punk folk collective in town, “Folk’s Worst Nightmare.” It sort of feels like that scrappy DIY alt-folk scenes that pop up in towns and cities between Chicago and New York.

The whole show happened because he put our song on a radio show, and I reached out to say thank you. Then, he noticed that we had an off day, and organized a concert in Nürnberg for us. He even got a local TV station to come along to film the show and interview us.

The show at MUZClub itself was lovely - in large part due to the local opener, Julia. She was rehearsing in the backstage area - with the reverb from the long hallway, it sounded magical. Here's a recording.

We saw some familiar faces at the show too - including Andi. He is a former host from our tour in 2018 in Hamburg. He mentioned that Barbara said that I was allowed to eat sweet mustard now that they moved to Bavaria - it’s most definitely not popular in northern Germany

---

Jan’s friend Jens set up a small pre-show at his guitar shop - BTM Guitars - just down the road. so, we played a tiny acoustic show there to six people, then came back in the morning time to drink coffee, get the guitar looked at, and daydream about a new guitar.

This morning, I went to see Jens again at BTM Guitars. The fellas made me a cup of coffee, fixed a small issue with a tuning peg that kept snapping my strings and let me try a few guitars. Unfortunately, I fell in love with one. It’s an Atkin. They only work with three distributors in the US; the closest is in Chicago.

The one I played is based on the Gibson J45, specifically a model from 1943. Therefore, it’s called “The Forty Three.” I haven't found a larger-bodied guitar that ever spoke to me, but this one did. Jens and they said we could work out a deal, and I wrote down some numbers. I don’t think I’ll follow through on it, but it’s fun to dream a little bit on tour.

Cookbook Giveaway in Vienna

We’ve been driving a lot, but these days were the most difficult. We had three days of 5+ hour drives back to back, going from Germany, through the Czech Republic to Austria, and back to Germany. 

During the drives, sometimes I felt like it wasn’t worth it. I felt foolish to be spending time away from work and away from home driving from city to city without much time to spend enjoying what makes they unique. We roll into a city as the sun is setting, and roll out just after it rises. But the show in Vienna got my head back on straight again.

In Vienna, we played at a cafe named Clash. They have about 8 shows a year, always someone traveling from out of town, and always someone special. We made the cut! Hooray!

Jo opened up the door for us a bit early, then explained that they had collected a big box of old cookbooks for giveaways at the show. They had advertised that everyone that donated money to the band could have their pick of a free cookbook. It was unbelievably cute. Also, my face was plastered all over the bathroom.

We set up. We told stories and played songs for almost two hours. We had an encore - twice - and played just late enough to make the people in the room and the people who live upstairs both happy. Our soundman, Tomas, was a joy. He writes songs as Think Small. He’s worth listening to.

We slept at our host Michael’s apartment that night - complete with an amazing view of the city.

Dresden

We had a short drive from Chemnitz to Dresden, then rolled into the old city. Jack and Dan went on a short adventure while I caught up on some to-do items in an indoor marketplace with a lil cappuccino.

We were playing at the Blue Note. We met the booker and his son to ask for any tips on finding parking. They responded, “Good luck!” With our good luck in tow, we found a spot around the corner.

We said hey to Lars and Hanna from K&F, and they introduced us to a radio journalist named Berndt. We were ushered upstairs to the Blue Note apartment where he set up his equipment. Then, we talked about me and the band for almost an hour. He recorded the conversation. Maybe it goes nowhere, maybe it goes somewhere. I talked more about cooking than I anticipated. I hope I illuminated whatever he was looking for. 

We had a little bit of time for food with Lars and Hanna , then played the show. We saw Annette (her art is on my wall at home) and Hannes (Hanna’s partner) and Ronny (we stayed in his apartment last tour). 

The Blue Note is set up like a strange hallway. The stage faces the wall, then the player looks side to side to see the people that they are playing to. It was strange and lovely. 

We drank that night together. We talked about how we might even maybe break even, and what to do after that.

Day Three and Four: Offenbach, Thomann, and Chemnitz

Day Three: Offenbach

Hafen 2 is in Offenbach, what looks like a suburb of Frankfurt on the other side of a canal. Right on the coastline is Hafen 2 (Harbor 2). Andrea is the general head honcho, along with her husband and daughter. Last tour, we played on the outside stage; this year, we played on the inside stage.

It was the biggest stage that we had played thus far, with Dan on a grand drum throne looking over Jack and I. We played loud songs loudly. We played soft songs softly. It was nice.

Mark Peters Band played after us with a bunch of grooves. We got to spend some time just watching the light show - with an additional little spotlight on the donations bucket. Over some lentil curry provided by the venue, Mark and the team recommended that we check out Thomann - a big music store in a little German town.

We all slept in a little room at a local hotel with miserable WiFi. I completely forgot how many shenanigans went into getting a decent internet connection.

Day Four: Thomann and Chemnitz

We woke up and drove our way to Thomann. Of course, we ran into the fellas in the band from the night before in our respective instrument sections, all wishing we had some more time to spend wandering from room to room.

It’s kind of like the Book Loft times 10 but for instruments. It’s a strange, sprawling store of converted houses going up four stories, signs pointing at each doorway to different sections with different instruments. They have orchestral percussion. They have a whole slew of guitars. They have brass, strings, and pro audio gear. They have so many synthesizers.

Dan found a small part for his borrowed hi-hat stand, Jack got a sandwich, and we all got on our way.

We rolled in to Inspire Chemnitz. We were in Chemnitz on a dangerous night last time, so it felt important to return under more normal circumstances. These were quite normal! We talked to Barry, the booker who kept the venue open during the violence outside last time. Things didn’t really change after the violence. Most of the people came in from out of town to demonstrate. Chemnitz is still Chemnitz, but university admissions and tourism are both down. He says that there is still an undercurrent of racism and anti-immigrant politics, as well as a few seats in local government taken by the AFD, but there hasn’t been anything as explosive as last time.

Felix ran sound, Liz looked after us, and Navya from Kansas volunteered with the cleanup afterward. It was a small show with fewer native English speakers than most of our shows - Barry impressed upon us that he very much loved the way we were able to see the world and pick out charming bits of life from it.

After the show, we went to Uli’s house; he’s Barry’s partner in the venue. He hosts the whisky tastings in the venue, and has a bit cellar at his home. Naturally, he broke out a few bottles of beer, scotch, and whisky to talk about the world, music, education, Chemnitz, life in general, and the Science/Christianity talks that he organized. We laughed, drank, and pet his dog. I slept well that night.

Karlsruhe and Cafe NUN

We slept in, showered, had a lovely breakfast, and got on the road to Karlsruhe. We played at a little bar/cafe called NUN. It felt like something between a listening room and a family room.

Dan and I played at the Kafe NUN last tour with Wayne Graham - it can fit about 70 people, tops - spilling in front of and behind the stage. They make a home cooked meal for bands before they plan, sit down to eat and drink together, and prepare them a room in an apartment above the venue. 

Annika made dinner for everyone - band and staff - of something that she couldn't translate from German. It was a lot like scalloped potatoes, but with cheese and some spicy mustard throughout. They’re also big wine people - so we had some great, great wine.

Karlsruhe is a college town, so most of the folks who are our age are studying at a university or college/trade school - our soundman was studying engineering. Nearly fifty people filled the room for songs and stories. Then, we went up a few flights of stairs to our host Manu’s apartment.

I stayed with Dan in his children’s room, complete with little colorful flag streamers and everything. We watched Planet Earth on Netflix. We made eggs late at night - and another host - Mareika made us a big breakfast spread in the morning. We all shared it by a window while church bells chimed.

I had a slight fever that night before the show, but it seems like it’s passed - and that Jack and Dan didn’t get it. I think that means we dodged a bullet. We’ll keep scooting forward.

German Tour Update: arrival in Frankfurt, first show in Köln

Our newest record came out while we were above the Atlantic Ocean in a big ol airplane while wearing a sleeping mask in earnest for the first time in my life.

Thanks for listening to it if you have! If you haven’t, give it a stream or buy a CD/LP online through our new distributor.

---

We took off in the US at about 5PM local time, and then arrived at about 9AM local time. We slept a little bit on the plane, but probably not enough (for me anyway). We got our VW Passat, found a way to fit everything in, and then got on our way.

But first, we had to drive to Düsseldorf to pick up some gear. Then, we had to fit that even more gear into the car while people wanted us to move from the loading area. Then, we high-tailed it to Köln to get to a hostel named Weltemfänger.

I played solo here two years ago on the first tour. Our main contact there is Fabio - sort of a McDreamy character who lives around the corner and does most of the managing and booking. He claims that he isn’t a sound man, but everything has sounded perfect when I’ve been there.

After a short, deep, luxurious nap, we checked our things and prepped for the show. We thought we might start at 8:45p depending on how many people showed up. By 8:00 PM, it was clear that we were going to start on time.

The place was jam-packed, partially due to a local events magazine/website picking us up as a featured event. But, partially, there were plenty of people who came to see us. We saw folks from the past two years, caught up a bit, and played our jet-lagged little hearts out.

We met someone who lives in Grandview - about three miles from my apartment - here on business. We met someone who grew up a few miles away from Dan who has lived in Germany for six years now. The little connections were plentiful and surprising and welcomed.

It was a free show, with donations for the band. We collected nearly 700 euros and sold nearly 300 euros of CDs and LPs. Fabio said we broke the record for a donation show there. Every show won’t be like this - but it helps that the first one is.

Then, we drank beer. Fabio and Jack and I talked about healthcare (strong in Germany) and the rise of the far-right (also growing stronger in Germany).

We slept (hard) and got up to drive to Karlsruhe.