Hey Kids!
Well, there's been much upheaval surrounding the DesBerardos lately, and we've neglected this site, but we're really gonna try to keep it up to date now (really ... no, really!)
The last year or so has been alot of fun along with the usual fear and drama. Me and the band have had a big time, met some great people, seen alot of great places, and generally made a nuisance of ourselves.
We've just finished a couple of trips to play for our good friends of the Martha's Vineyard Harley Riders Association on Martha's Vineyard, where it's never dull, thanks to such strange outlaws as Rick Colson and Mike Fletcher, and the Mayor of the Island who goes by "Fats". We hope to be back again this summer.
Marc is about to release his second solo CD, and he and Pete have recently performed at the Suwannee Springfest Folk Festival in Northern Florida. He'll be doing a set, as will be The DesBerardo Band, on June 10th, at The WINTERTIDE Folk Festival 2000, in Milford, CT. This is a must: an all-day hang with bands, food, and cold beer. For ticket information, visit the Hayloft Records website at the bottom of this page.
Beyond that, we're shaping up for another Southern swing in July, and then we'll see where the Van heads for the rest of the summer. So please keep checking in as things develop, and we'll see you in the bars!
Let the good times roll!~Chris
Sept. 10, 2000
Hello trendy Euro-types!
Amercian Dust is getting some press and being added on the radio in these far-off lands:
JRRI International Shortwave / Ireland
RPEM-FM / Spain
Country Jamboree Syndicated Radio / Denmark
Night Cafe http://home.online.no/~cezza/nattcafe.htm / Denmark
Eddie Russell Country Eastern / Outlaw For Peace radio www.paralegalator.com
Along the Navajo Trail program / France
And oddly, Reading Radio / Reading, Vermont
Sept. 14, 2000
Hola!
Hope everyone had a great summer. We sure had a ball, and we appreciate everyone who came to the gigs and helped us to enjoy all the wierdness. We caught up with some old friends, and hopefully made some new ones.
Every chance we get to catch up with Sheriff Marge and the good people of Luckenbach, Texas is an event, and Bobby Ray and her tribe's after-gig party in Fredericksburg has become the annual event of the social season.
Michael Fletcher, Rick Colson, and The Martha's Vineyard Harley Riders are as close to wierd enough as it gets, and Chuck Wrenn in Richmond, Virginia may be the best guy we ever did a gig for (much of our detainment and near-arrest might be attributed to his whiskey-laden hospitality) .
Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Darrell, our laison to the community of Virginia Beach. Keep peddlin', Darrell!
In addition, we got to work with alot of great bands, like Black-Eyed Dog in North Carolina, (watch for their song this year on "Dawson's Creek") Reckless Kelly in Texas, and Magpie Suite and Mic Harrison from the V-Roys in Tennessee. (Note: Ammi Knight of Manhattan's in Knoxville may be the greatest waitress ever invented.)
Also, to Michael Branden and all the bands at The Wintertide Folk Festival 2000, in Milford, CT, The Cellar Bar and everyone else in the NY and CT area, thanks for a great year.
Hey, if you're ever in Texas and need a drummer, you gotta call Jeremy Bowe of the legendary Rusty Weir Band, or John Bush of Edie Brickell and New Bohemians. We did. Great drummers, great fun! Ask John to tell you the Mexican porno story!
OK, so Marc and I are gonna do some gigs in Virginia Beach this weekend, and then he keeps headin' south to Florida, to promote his new solo realease, "Second Chance" on Hayloft Records, and I'll drive the Silver Bullett to CT and continue work on the new Desberardo CD. So, if we don't see you for a little while, it's not 'cause we owe you money, just a gulp of fresh air and a reload. Stay here for updates.
See you in the bars,
~Chris
"Senorita, what you have is a wandering Novio!"
____________________
Dec. 3, 2000
I have retreated to the beaches of rural Mexico. It is my fourth day here, but I've yet to discover the name of this town, if it is one at all. No phone, no TV, no newspaper, English language or otherwise, and I am embracing the solitude. We are somewhere well south of Cancun, and our isolated cottage sits on the beach, four or five steps from the Carribean Sea. Thick palms, white sand, and a small fridge stocked with the local beers. All is well.
We have hired a taxi and gone into the nearest "civilazation", the town of Playa De Carmen. There's not much English spoken, but everyone calls me "friend" and the knowledge that I'm from New York engenders a certain fear from the locals, so I mention it often.
Playa is chock-full of thieves and cheap hustlers. I understand these people. Any accidental eye contact is an invitation for the full shake-down, and we learn quickly to stay low. Still, a few pesos will buy buckets of cervaza and there is intrigue on every narrow cobbled street. Great town.
A particularly viscious little punk calling himself Victor has offered me Cuban cigars, Mexican blankets, and a full afternoon's worth of food and drink if I tour the hotel he works for and "spread the word" on it's beauty, but after a walk through the Plaza with 'Ol Vic, I balked at getting into a cab with him, and he became angered. As I lowered my shoulder to clear the way, Vic emitted a pathetic moan and lashed out, but it was all too late and I was on my way. Still, the offer holds, and I may return to see how it plays out.
Back up the road, I have befriended the ex-patriot American who runs this place known as Marcello. Raised in Lake Charles, Louisiana, Alabama, and Panama City,Fla., he found himself in Mexico City by age fifteen and never returned. In the evenings, food is served to me by Domingo, who tells stories of his home, and then performs fire tricks for the guests. Beyond these two, we typically speak to no one. The small number of other loners here clearly have thier own reasons for isolation, and the Germans seem particularly menacing. However, two nights ago I drank Tequilla at the poolside bar with Marcello and three men from Marin County and when they would no longer serve us, we retired to the Californian's bungalow and wiped out the stash of Dos XX. Nice folks, and no one was hurt, but now the bartender smiles slyly when I pass, and I will keep my eye on him.
____________________
Dec. 4, 10 am
It has happened. I am gripped with The Fear. We have all been warned and drink only the provided bottled water, and yet somehow I am on my knees, cramped and wretching like a dog. Perhaps I should not have drank the coconut that the old cowboy offered me.
We had veered off the beach path and into the jungle. When we stopped and tied up the horses by a particularly decrepit old shack, he seemed to be motioning toward the penned-in area in back. He spoke no English, but it was apparent that this was of some importance. In the first cage was some kind of ant-eater or wart-hog, or perhaps a crude cross-breed the old man had been experimenting with out here. The next cage was bunnies. The cages beyond the heavily mud-slopped center area (which did nothing for my canvas low-cut Chuck Taylor All-Stars) housed a mean looking herd of turkeys, peacocks, ducks, chickens and myriad other indistinguishable fowl (more experiments?) and oddly, a large five-point buck, looking a little embarassed about the whole thing. In addition, a pack of pissed-off geese ran free, challenging us and scaring hell out of the dog that had run along with us all afternoon. Regardless, at some point, the man in the old gaucho hat seemed to be offering something, and keeping with my open-minded ingestion policy, I of course accepted. He sent the young boy scurrying up the tree, and when he had come down and done some classic rusty-machette work, I sucked down the milk.
Last night we ate the local beef dish and drank a bottle of Chilean wine, but it seems unlikely that any of this could be the cause of my current infirmity. Still, this morning when Marcello came down to our place on the beach with the Liquour Burro, I was too crippled even to have one of the cold Sol beers he keeps in the custom-fitted leather ice bags on the back of the beast. Bad for buisness, no fun for me, and I'm guessing just another shit day for the donkey. Someone will have to pay, but for now I must rest.
____________________Dec. 4, 10pm
Moments ago I answered the door to see two men standing on my back porch, one holding an unopened bottle of tequila, it's silver and gold label reflecting the moonlight like a full emergency siren. It was, in fact, both Marcello y Domingo, there to scare the shit out of me, but also thank God to take pity on my condition with a tray of soup and rolls. I've managed to secure some prescription pills from a guest down the beach, so the experiment continues. While here, Marcello mentioned that tomorrow is his birthday and before he hits the road north to Cancun to act up, we must do some damage to the tequila bottle in question, so I now have my timetable for recovery. The ocean is beating up outside the front door and I'm praying for sweet Morpheous. Buenos Noches.
____________________December 5
I live again. I seem to have regained some strength and today I was able to take my run on the beach, where I ran into the dog. We chased each other and wrestled over a piece of driftwood, and when I got back we had a fine lunch of shrimp ceviche and cerveza.
At sunset there was another wedding, this one a cultish affair involving four couples in white, in a strange aquatic ritual with fire and palms. Of course Marcello was on the job, and he told me that after he saw me last night he had attacked the tequila bottle and then taken two bottles of wine down to the beach, which he drank alone as he cursed the night. Soon his wife and new baby will come from Mexico City, and all will be well.
Indeed. As for myself, much of the staff, as well as many of the guests, have apparently taken to trading stories of "Cristobal" the long-haired American who "drinks tequila and raises his fists to the air." In fact, it has come to where the pool bartender, when I walk through the plaza, shouts out "Hola Tequila!" as I pass. I find it disturbing and move on with my head down.Nevertheless, tonight I will have a drink with Marcello to mark his birthday, and then tomorrow I will take a boat to Cozumel. I see the lights of the island every night from my bed, and the pull is to great.
The boat leaves from Playa del Carmen and there I hope to run into my new friend Juan. He is a local artist, a piece of who's jewelry I purchased on the first day here. I had seen him in the tiny gift shop cutting his deal and recognized him leaving the compound the next day. We had arranged for a taxi, and offered him a ride into Playa. He and I made vague plans to run an international importing business of his work sporting DesBerardo logos. He is a fine man, and as we drove he offered me weed and explained some of the nuances of Playa, a place that was right for "people like us". Also, he pointed out that it was a most auspicious day, as the country had just that day elected a new president, the first outside the general ruling party in over thirty-five years. He gripped his cigarettes and copy of Diario as he spoke passionately of the new opportunity for prosperity for the Mexican people and the natural wealth that has been denied them. He was also helpful in pointing out the local 'sports bar' that might be showing American football, in particular the Giants-Redskins game that Sunday, on which I had two cans riding. In any event, Juan is a fine fellow and I hope to see him again.____________________
Dec.7, 12 noon
I'm rereading the note now for the fifth or sixth time, and as I finish this beer that the beast brought this morning, I'm beginning to grasp the dark import of it all. I saw the small, brown man walking towards my front steps, and I struggled to look up in the sun and take the crumpled paper he offered. It read,
Senor,
We don't have power.
The problem is in town.
Sorry
I suspected at the time, and have now come to see clearly, that my impact on this community has been much greater than I could have anticipated. In these turbulent political days here, The Underground was speaking, and although subtle, the mandate was unavoidable. The first heady days of the Mexican election were fading, and reality setting in. The marionettes still danced in the capitol, and the people were still powerless. The problem, of course, was in town, but were they working locally or did they speak of Mexico City? How high does this thing go? And to what extent will I be called upon to right this mess? The legend of "Cristobal" grows quietly but steadily, and I am now beginning to understand the sly winks and extra attentions emanating from the staff. And so it continues.
Yesterday we sprinted through the Plaza like criminals, and just did catch the fast boat to Cozumel. We rented the Honda Rojo of the tourista and when the Policia hassled me regarding the ridiculous helmet as I made my way out of town, I spat and yelled, "I do not recognize your authority, or any one else's!" and motored off at sixty kilometers an hour for the virgin beaches on the North shore. The scenery is spectacular, and we stopped at the unfortunately possessive imbued "Bob's Marley Bar" at the most deserted end, where many Texans have left their message covered underwear, and we drank beer and sat on the corral reef. ( Bob's Marley Bar must not be confused with "Rastas", which sits directly across the street blaring the identical music, the only two structures of any kind for a ten mile radius, in what can only amount to Cozumel's "Little Jamaica" district. Indeed, the demand will dictate.
But now the sun is high and I must rest before tending to some of the dark and weighty matters of the locals. Buenos Tarde.
____________________Dec.7, 10:30 pm
I'm staring at stars on another perfect night on a beach I never want to leave. Marcello has made his second firm offer of a job as his assistant if I choose to stay on, and I feel completely sure that a year or two of listening to these waves would be far from wrong. Or perhaps a few hours south to Guatemala and then over to Belize to weasel my way in with old Jerry Jeff. The Yucatan Peninsula is surely a place where a young buck can still get a fair shake, and if it's good enough for a soulful 'ol freak like Walker then it might be worth the residual dangers of my obtaining a valid passport. But tonight I want to sit only on this step, and hear only this ocean, and think only this clearly. See ya in The Stars.____________________
Dec. 8, 1:40 pm Central time
The beast came by early this morning, and I took a cold Sol and stroked him along the neck and then sat on the steps and drank. My body has adjusted now, and I can drink beer all morning and still have my run in the afternoon. Hemingway said that if a man was not hunting a lion that day, when even one one-hundreth of a second could make a great difference, then beer before or with breakfast was a fine thing and would fortify him for the day. He said many wise things, until the end, when he mostly muttered softly and then fired a pistol off inside his head. Still, I've come to agree with him on the beer issue, and was considering that when the latest note arrived.
Hi Friends,
You're other room for tonight is ready.
Tell the security gay (sic) if you are ready,
or he's coming back in ten minutes.
GraciasSo it was on! Homo-erotic overtones aside, it was clear that extreme security measures were being whipped into place, and I would need to be moved the five hundred meters down the beach to bungalow numero dos. Perhaps They had determined my whereabouts, or perhaps this was to do with the Speedo-clad, chair-stealing Euro-bastard who lives in the trees behind me. I have no doubt that he would sell me out. He has taken to spending the afternoons at the pool bar, getting hideously drunk and having violent, high-volume debates with his swarthy rum-gobbling woman. Regardless, the tone of this most recent missive was one of serious business, and the vaguely threatening notion of "or he's coming back in ten minutes" was one I didn't care to explore. Still, in view of my current political actions it is probably understandable, so I stuffed my T-shirts and books in the black Gold's Gym bag and handed it to the uniformed man, then grabbed my boots as we made our way through the thick palms and down the beach. On a bright note, this sudden movement put me seconds ahead of the burro and I was able to comandeer another cerveza from the now confused burro-master, who watched as I made strange salute-like gestures and tipped back the bottle as I made my way towards the ocean.
After dinner I have made firm plans to speak with Marcelo of our idea to bring the Desberardo extravaganza to this country. Perhaps Guatemala, then Mexico City, then Cancun, and finally to this beautiful little town, if my place in the movement and the events of the next days do not prohibit it. Then we will sort this mess out and even those at the embassy who had the greatest doubts will dance like Banshees in the night!____________________
Dec. 8, 11:40 CT
Tonight Juanita and I ate huge lobsters that the men cooked in front of us with brandy and an impressive flaming fruit trick. Later at the bar, Marcello and I talked more of our current scheme, and he told stories of nakedness and his ultimate collapse and hospitalization in Martinique. These are truly good people and I will miss them, but today the dog and I ran up the beach and the water was the greenest it has been yet, and the sky the most orange, and the moon already out and just nearly full, and I felt like I could run with no limits, and felt for a moment completely alone, in the good way where you know that whatever happiness you have is real and your own and you ultimately must answer to no one, and I think that at times like that it is usually best to go.
So we'll see the mood in the morning, but am I ready for customs? And are they ready for me? And what of my silent promise to the locals? For now, I'll stay here in the hammock and let Buffet do the talking.________________________________
End of "The Mexican Diaries"
Dec. 31, 2000 5pm
St. Augustine, Fla.
I have finally landed at the Jacksonville Airport after being snowed in all day yesterday in the vicious frozen-ass New York death tundra, and can finally get down to the serious business of music and pushing the physical boundaries.
The first person I saw when I got off the plane was Bobby from Molly Hatchet, who we had played with at Toad's Place in New Haven. We talked for a while as we waited for the shuttle, and it sounds like the band is doing great. Their old bass player was in "Those Guys", which it turns out was one of the very reasons I was on my way to St. Augustine at that moment. I had seen them play a couple of years ago, and always thought they were cool. Just the kind of playing I like.
Marc, who's been down here doing his solo work and living like a king-hell freak, had filled in on some road gigs with them and was now playing New Year's Eve weekend at Scarlett's in St. Augustine. So it seemed like all signs were pointing South. We're gonna head into a great new studio here in town on Tuesday, spend a few days thrashing about and see what we get. Me and the driver are debating the merits of the New Orleans Saints defense, and in a few minutes I'll be in town. Marc has an early gig at The Milltop which I hope to catch, and then it's down the street for the "Those Guys" show. God Bless Us All.
____________________
Jan.1, 2001 12 noon
Hard to speak now. Must be this murky climate. What did I sing on stage? And more to the point, what kind of man loses his shirt? That was my favorite gig shirt, worn over all manor of costume, impervious to smoke and old booze. Must find large vats of coffee now. Recording will be the much needed discipline that this scene requires.____________________
Jan. 4, 2001There's no sense in laying down the details of this sort of twisted trip, but the last few day have been a mix of brilliant music and dark wild behavior. Marc performed at The Milltop again yesterday, and he sounded great (will he see this?). The club is as close to perfect sound and surroundings for a day of acoustic music as I have seen. Tonight we finally got going in the studio, a great place called Eclipse Recording, run by Jim Stafford. We had no real plan, and I thought I'd do some overdubs with some of the local players, but "Those Guys" were there, and I figured I'd be crazy not to cut something with this cool band, so I taught the guys a couple of songs I had never played before, and we just tore into them. Marc on acoustic, and Walt Kulwiki on electric, Dave Besley playing bass and Crazy John Mcgee drumming. I think we did some real good things, and I really recommend to anyone that you catch these guys (Those Guys?) or pick up a CD.
____________________
Jan. 6, 2001
This is a beach town, but don't be fooled. There are many dark corners where no sun could ever shine, and the people we travel with know them all. Yesterday we recorded more great stuff. All the guys down here have been great, and last night Woody Pernell showed us how to have a full-on dance party, as we went late into the night recording his killer percussion part. Some stone-ass Desberardo style groovin' going on down here. At closing time we drank whiskey in the St. George Tavern in the dark, and then piled into a 1978 custom van and sang "Frankenstein" at the top of our lungs with our new friends. I can no longer breath with any effectiveness.
____________________
Jan. 7, 2001Grasping for sanity now......Singing with "The Saners" at The CreeK (?)....Randolph Scott joins us, claims to be a "singing motherf#&ker"...well hell, yes, why not............every one over to the biker bar, The Bar None, I think....Many musicians, much drink, gig stories dating back to The Movement.......Off to The Milltop to see the Traveling Singer Girl........Vague now.... incident in the convenience store..that's not convienient!.....no need to get the cops involved, sir...... Praying for rest......Aghhhhh
____________________
Jan. 9 or 10
My notes of the last days amount to a pile of gibberish, but we have managed to make it to the airport with only minor incidents. Marc left me standing in the ticket line, and gave me the Nixon salute, arms overhead flashing victory signs, barking threatening snippetts, "Thanks for nothing Henry, screw you, and Haldemen and that pig Liddy...", while I worked the ticket line. Then it was a full sprint down to the gate, and the inevitable confrontation with the x-ray squad. I refused, of course, to allow them to Gamma-Ray my entire catalog of digital recordings, but the sight of a long haired man who hasn't slept in a week holding a box above his head and screaming "I will not allow your intrusions!" creates uneasiness. I heard myself yelling, "this is how we're gonna do this!", as I pushed past the charwomen and down to the gate.
____________________
Monday, March 19
Just got back last night from the South x Southwest Music conference in Austin, TX. When all the conferring had concluded, I had seen 14 bands in three days, ingested six fajitas, 82 beers, one margarita, and basically stomped the terrain like a wild-eyed junkie. Can't beat Austin for a great time and great music under "normal" conditions, but when you roll 1,000 acts into town and have 'em set up and play from 10am to 2am, only the near dead and the brainless could miss the joyful point.
Some of the highlights included The Hot Club of Cowtown, Trick Pony, Elizabeth Cook and Reckless Kelly at The Broken Spoke, Drive By Truckers at Jovita's, and Laura Cantrell and Tim Easton at Yard Dog Antiques. Got to touch base on a variety of important issues with Tim and his band (who have their own record out as Rosavelt) mostly involving the pros and cons of various models of touring vans as well as the medicinal qualities of Wild Turkey. Another great show was Mojo Nixon's annual all-day Bar-B-Q at The Continental Club, with great sets by Blue Mountain and Beaver Nelson.
A trip to Austin is never complete for me without trying to catch the legendary Rusty Wier, and I headed out to the hills of West Austin to Poodie's, where Rusty was knockin' down the Tequila, singin' his ass off, and generally doing all the things that had gotten him inducted two nights before into the Austin Music Hall Of Fame. Our buddy (and drummer for some of our last Texas shows) John Bush of New Bohemians was playing at The Speakeasy with a great band called Holloway, and we got to catch up some and begin plotting his possible rampage through the Northeast with the twisted and mysterious Foamy. The head is now starting to clear, and the voyeurism is over. Tonight it's back into The Barn to see what we can whip up.~Chris
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March 27, 2001
Got back last night from Florida. Big Time. Straight blast from the Orlando Airport in the hot teal Miata, top down into the sun, headed for St. Augustine with the new Reckless Kelly CD at crushing volume. The Golf Crowd was swarming town this weekend for the TPC Championship, and Marc and I made a halfhearted plan to head into the vortex for purposes of cultural experimentation, but the reality was two days of wild Hollerin' & Swallerin' at his gigs with The Those Guys band instead. Back into the Hayloft today with Pete and Dick and "Nicky The Stick". Seems like the more we do the farther away we get from finishing this record, but we must be getting somewhere. But where?
Where indeed. We'll know soon enough. Got some duo gigs coming up around NY/CT soon, so hope to see you all in the shadows.
~Chris__________________________
Webmaster's Note;
During this period, Chris' journal fell into woeful disrepair, as he plunged into a dark pattern of late night recording, wild drinking, rock gigs and cock fights. He promises to tend to it better now.
_________________________
Feb.14, 2002
Happy Valentine's Day Young Lovers!
The band is at TRIAD in New York City tomorrow, and we hope to see everyone in the area. It's the new line-up with Benny Landa on electric guitar and Dick Neal on everything with strings, and it should be a fun show!
We're still working on the new CD in fits and starts, getting real close, so check here for the plan on that front. Later,
- Chris
__________________________
Feb.19, 2002
Thanks to everyone who came out to the TRIAD show in New York. The band and I really had fun, despite the mid-afternoon (9pm) set, and we apologize to everyone who didn't beleve we'd ever go on on time and missed alot of the the proceedings. Next time we'll try to retain our natural tardiness.
Here's a new place American Dust is being played in Europe recently, as those on "The Continent" discover the distinctly American flavor of whatever it is we think we do:
The ATL Roots Revival Show-Radio.FM 105.9, Belgium
...also, Radio Canut 102.2 FM, of Lyon, France, called it "heartfelt" and "beautiful" and ultimately surmised, "Is it Country? Why not!" Indeed. Thanks guys!
See ya in The Streets,
-Chris
_______________________
March 20, 2002
Got back last night from Texas. I don't think I've ever had a bad minute in that state, except the time our air supply was cut off in Austin and the time of Marc's police laden airport freak-out in San Marcos. But those were small exceptions, and this trip proved to be a big time.
We were hoping to get the band down to Austin for some gigs during the South By Southwest Festival, but when the timing didn't work out I found myself with some "unsupervised time" and decided to head down anyway.
If you're like me (and kids, don't you think you oughtta be?) and you're willing to drink beer, eat spicey food and listen to loud music 12-15 hours straight for three or four days, then this deal is for you! However, it makes it about impossible to list all the highlights. Here's a try;
I got to town Thursday afternoon and headed straight to Antone's, where they were hosting the Annual Americana Music Assosiation shindig. The free beer was provided by Shiner, and the music by the legendary and non-speaking Lonesome Bob with special guests like Jon Langford, Gurf Morlix, and others. The nightime bill started with The Gourds, who KILLED me! They're the real deal if you like American music. Then it was Caitlin Carey, who was the fiddle player in Whiskeytown, and then Jack Ingram, who is so good I could spit. The final band was my current favorites The Drive By Truckers, who just arrived after several dates with Lynyrd Snynyrd and played a bunch of songs from their new Southern Rock Opera, loosely based on Skynyrd, drugs and the duality of southern life. I returned to the hotel and stopped drinking until I woke up.
On Friday, I stood in the yard behind the antique store and watched the Bloodshot Records Showcase with bands like The Bottle Rockets, The Meat Purveyors and The Waco Brothers, and had more free beer. The PA kept cutting out but the monitors were fine so the bands didn't know, and when the crowd kept trying to signal the problem to them, the bands thought they were heckling and many near riots took place. I headed over to Guerro's and had some cold Pacificos and the best chicken tacos I have ever eaten.
I stopped in to The Saxon Pub, said hello to some old friends and caught Will Sexton, Stephen Doster and Bill Carter doing an acoustic set. Then it was a quick jump over to Threadgill's to see my buddy Kevin Welch. He's always been one of my very favorites, and this night was no exception. He just killed 'em! Marc and Michael Branden and I had met up with Kevin last summer in upstae NY when he and Marc were playing the Falcon Ridge Festival, and late at night we all took to the hills armed only with guitars, whiskey, and the can-do attitude of frontiersmen. There were also a bunch of great singer/songwriters playing first, most notably Walt Wilkens, a buddy of Kevin's from Nahville. A great night!
Saturday afternoon I went back to the Yard Dog Antiques and watched The Woodpeckers, The legendary New York band The Silos, and Chuck Prophet and his band, who were one of the best things I've seen in years! I ran next door to Guerros again, ostensibly for more tacos, but instead ran into friends and drank margaritas for two and a half hours. I got down to The Austin Music Hall just in time to catch the second half of the Bruce Robison show. He was amazing, his band was amazing, and all in all it was an emotional highlight. He dueted on most songs with his wife, the lovely Kelly Willis, who me and Marc and Pete had drivin to see at Gruen Hall a couple years back after we did a radio interview, high like freaks on a bottle of whiskey that had been boiling in the van in the 105 degree heat for days, and screaching like mad dogs to a Willie Nelson Hits tape while racing the huge silver beast at incredible speeds through the Texas hills. But that's another story.
Next up was Miss Kelly herself. Once again, she was fantastic, as was her band which included Chuck Prophet, and that made me wonder if he had had the same kind of afternoon as me. ThenThe Derailers came on and we danced in the back of the hall and found a cell phone and a man brought us pizza!
At 1 am it was my old favorites, Austin's own Reckless Kelly. Counting the show we played with them in San Marcos last year, I think this was my ninth RK show! They're great guys and the band sounded better than I've heard in a long time.
It was all I could do on Sunday to check out, get some breakfast tacos at Magnolia's, and start heading out to the Hill Country towards Luckenbach. It's a town with a population of three and a little post office that sells beer, and it's always the most peacful and re-energizing part for me. I stopped in and had a cold Luckenbach , sat in with a bunch of the local pickers, and caught up with some great friends like Sherrif Marge, who sells the beer on Saturdays and Sundays, her husband and the Deputy, James, and even ran into Jim, our old friend from NY, who's living in Wimberly now and makin' the locals crazy! I sat on the stoop outside the post office and drank and sang untill way past dark, and then headed to San Antonio for the night.
Hung around some in S.A. on Monday, checked out The River Walk and the old town, and then it was one last pile of barbecue at the airport and up and away.
When I landed New York was freezing but no one gave me the finger on the ride home and I think this is a good sign.See ya in The Bars,
-Chris
_____________________
April 5, 2002 (9 AM!)
Heading out with the band today. Doing a few shows in Maryland and Virginia. Seven men and a cloud of dust. God help us! Got a gig tonight in Baltimore at a club that does tattoos on premises. Stay here for the true life account.
-Chris
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April 6, 2002 (2 PM)
Baltimore, MD.
Did the gig last night at Cafe' Tattoo. It was our first time there, and we had a lot of fun. How can you miss when the club has Turkey Burritos, an in-house tattoo parlor, and a package store connected to it for after show get-a-way booze?
The place is dark and weird and totally cool. It looked about full. Big stage but the PA systym comes in and out nightly and presented one of the greater challenges in sports. However, the band pulled it together and overcame enormous audio-odds. We were on the bill with two pretty loud/heavy local bands, but the kids there were real open minded and we got a great reception. Also a few groups of Desberardo fans were in the area, as well as our old buddy Billy Hagan, who used to run Scallywag's in CT. and now runs wild in the Baltimore Area. So that was great. Then the Motel 6 pickin' party went on 'till about 5 am, and oddly, I feel great!
Today we're back in The Van like good little church workers, and heading towards a gig in Virginia Beach. See you tomorrow,
~ Chris
____________________________
April 7, 2002 (3 PM)
Virginia Beach, VA.The show last night was a blast! We played The Jewish Mother here in town, and it was just totally swingin'! Big stage, great room. The staff treated us great. Marc and Pete and I had played a smaller place in town a bunch over the last couple of years, but this was our first time here with the huge Rock Monstrosity, and we were hoping folks would come out to see us, and a lot of them sure did! It was a GREAT crowd, and we had ourselves a Saturday Night! The band was KILLIN' and I had more fun than a cop at a protest rally. Thanks to Miss Sandy and Chico and the gang from Key West, Young Merideth who road tripped from CT, and all our old and new friends here in town.
After the lights came up, we found that we had been invited by the local Elks chapter to head over to the club for some after hours tomfoolery, where we were told by the Grand Head Elk that there were "no rules!" We quickly learned that these were not your typical rotarian types, but in fact a tribe of crazed bikers and vets who took over the failing local chapter and now run it like a demented rodeo and all-night slugfest. They pitched in to move our gear out of the club in a wild flash, and we were off to the clubhouse where we enjoyed their hospitality 'till the wee hours. Great guys, and we sure hope to see them all next time. Ride On Brothers!
We have just checked out of our Highly Luxurious Oceanfront Suites, and strolled on the beach in an attempt to get the smoke out of our pores and The Sin out of our lives, and now it's up to Richmond for a ho-down at Poe's which I always look forward to. We lose Benny today, I think Sandy has already taken him to the bus to get back to NY and ultimately to LA for a session. Still, we have no fear, and tonight we will attempt an acoustic show the way our forfathers did. I want to sleep now, but Nicky The Stick is doing a funny gag, so.....
~Chris
_____________________________April 8, 2002 (2pm)
Richmond, VA.Checking out and heading home. Last night at Poe's Pub was a great time. The crowd during the first set was small, but we played hard and had fun. By the time we started a second set, the place had gotten half full, and they were highly enthusiastic. Great folks. We played an encore, then sang "Un Thanken Da Feurer" , had a few whiskeys and hit the road. We missed Benny, but it was fun to do an acoustic show and the energy remained high. Professor Dick Neal effortlessly rose to the challenge of one audience member, and led us through a mandolin version of "You Really Got Me" which whipped the locals into a frenzy and secured a round for the band. The staff at Poe's is always the greatest, and I can't wait to get back.
Sandy never showed up here, and I fear foul play. We started with seven men, and now we're down to five. Still, not a bad loss rate by Wild-Eyed Rock-Tour Freak-Out standards. There is a showing of a Beatles documentary in the van scheduled for 3 o'clock, so we gotta roll. Stay Low,~Chris
______________________
Monday, May 6 2002
Got back last night from four days of duo gigs, and it has taken a certain toll. My throat is swollen, my body is screaming for hydration, and my system is no longer able to recognize the chemicals produced in the brain that induce sleep. However, relatively speaking, this was a lovely stroll.
Professor Dick Neal couldn't make the trip, so Marc and I pressed on as we have hundreds and hundreds of times before. Just like another legendary brother act, 80's hitmakers Nelson, but with more life-like hair.
It was our first time in Philadelphia, and we played a set upstairs in The Acoustic Lounge of The Grape Street Pub. You could fit the crowd that came to see us in the van, and later on that night we tried to. Thanks to our buddy, the fine singer/ songwriter Jeff Twardzick, who came out to the gig and then joined us while we thrashed about the streets of Philly like a young John Oates on an ether binge. Also to our long lost friend Kyle Ober, whose sudden disapearence from The Cellar Bar in NY can finally be explained after many unseemly theories involving organized crime and a falsified hack liscence. We played with some really great bands like Jonasay from D.C. and Wayne (TVT Records) of Birmingham AL, who were nice guys although they taunted us with stories of record company provided vans, equipment, Fur lined sinks and air-conditioned suitcases.
It's a great club and we hope to make it to Philly more often. Thanks to Andrew and the staff at The Grape.
The next day we pulled in to Rehoboth Beach, DE in time to check in to what turned out to be the beautiful water-view hotel we were staying at and catch a few sunset beers and dinner at Sharky's in Dewey Beach before the show. All I can say about Sharky is that he'll "buy back your food if you don't love everything" and that he is the de facto mayor of the beach. Keep Swimmin' Shark! It was our second show at The Dogfish Head, and another fun time. It's a real great room, the folks are nice, and they make their own beer and lots of it! The highest of fives to Missy from Baltimore and Miss Patty from Virginia who gave up Monster Truck and Ballett tickets, respectively, to travel to the show.
The next afternoon we had breakfast at Sharky's, drank enough joe to snap the brain of a large elk, and hit the road for The Cellar Bar (Westchester, NY). Out of the van, into The Darkness. Most folks thought this gig had been cancelled, so it wasn't the usual dementia, but we still had fun, whiskey and lots of laughs. Kenny B and Chris are the Swinging-ist of Daddys. The gig the next day was at 6:30 in Watertown, CT so Marc slept a couple hours on my couch and we headed on up. Nice club. Our asses were draggin' but we ended up laughing like deranged hyenas with the owner and then finally made the turn for home. (The previous hours actually sleeping at home served only to confuse us, and I continually demanded that the neiborhood children "stop all that damn screaming in the lobby" and insisted that "we've aranged for a late check out!!")
This week I plan to take to the hills like Fidel, and come out only when things have calmed down. I'm An Artist, damn it, and I won't permit me to treat me like this any longer. See you all next time and for God sakes wear a tie!
~ Chris
___________________________Monday, June 24 '02
Just finished six gigs in a row, and I feel great. I have, as my doctor assures me, the "strength of ten men". Which comes in handy sometimes. Marc and I went up to WPKN in Bridgeport on Wed. and played a few on our new buddy Chris Tesky's Bluegrass show, and had a real nice time. Chris is in The Stump Jumpers with Dick Neal, so we were all promoting the gig the next night at The Acoustic Cafe. Marc and I decided that if we ever finish making the payments on the washer, we would get ourselves a radio. That's how much we enjoyed the form!
Thursday night at The Acoustic Cafe was a gas, a real wild night out in the shed. Marc did a great set, then The Stump Jumpers grassed us up, then me and the band did our beery buisness. Three diverse acts, all tied together like an old Filmore show! The club was great, one of the more artist friendly that we've played anywhere. Thanks to Rich and the staff for a great show. And thanks to everyone who came out and in the great Desberardo tradition, ran up one of the most frightingly huge bar rings in folk club history. Well done!
Saturday we were down in Maryland for a show at Andy's. It was our first time there, and I've always admired all the great acts that play there and was really looking forward to it. It was obvious why all the other groups fuss about it 'cause Andy's is a wonderful club with big 'ol couches and a fireplace in the performing room, great sound and exotic beers. The crowd was lots of fun and seemed to understand our particular "angle". Chestertown is a great little seaside town and as usual we tried to slip some Real Life in amongst the demensia. Thanks to Miss Andy and everyone there. We really can't wait to get back. Also, kudos to Nicky The Stick for navigating miles and miles of darkend farmland as we made it out of town and back to the hotel.
Marc and I went straight to our duo gig at The Marina in New Rochelle, NY and had a Big Time. These Sundays at the tiki bar with Chris Curran presiding have been a ball, and we look forward to a lot of strange fun all summer. If you're in the area, don your nautical togs and/or scuba gear, and come on down.
OK kids. Must dash. Hope to see you soon. I'll be the one up front.~ Chris
_____________
Thursday, July 18 '02
Thanks a ton to everyone who came out to The Bitter End in NYC last night. We went on real late and we apreciate evryone who hung with us. (We must, after all, wait until dark so that the film crew can take proper advantage of our elaborate stage make-up!) I'm sure the extra two hours backstage did nothing for the tightness of our set (not exactly doing stretches and vocal warm-ups back there), but we sure did have fun! The support means the world to us. 'Till next time Space Rangers!.
~ Chris, Marc, Dick, Pete, The Stick and Benny
_________________
August 20, 2002
Chris Berardo and The Desberardos
have been chosen asThe Milford (CT) Oytser Festival 2002 Emerging Artist Winners!
Thanks to the festival staff, judges, and all the other great bands.
The Desberardos are happy to have emerged. See you next year.
________________________Thursday, August 29, '02
Hey Kids! Hope everyone is having a great summer. We dragged our asses out at 10am and played The Milford Oyster Festival last week, and ended up having a great time. The body can do amazing things when pushed to it's limits! We were very proud and shocked to hear that we had been chosen as The Emerging Artists of '02, so thanks to the folks at the festival and anyone who braved the hour and the heat to come see us.
Also, thanks to everyone who came out to the Danbury CT. show on 8/9, and to Le Bar Bat in NYC last Friday. That show was weird and fun, and the party up the street after was even weirder.
Pete and Dick and I are back at The Hayloft this week to tend to the ongoing saga of the new CD, and I swear we're about to finish up. Having said that, who knows. But we'll keep you posted. OK, stay where we can see you.
~ Chris
________________________
Sunday, Oct. 6 2002
Virginia Beach, VA.Pulling out of town after the show last night at The Jewish Mother. Once again, we had a lot of fun. Thanks to everyone who came out, as well as Missy and Patty, who were out of town but sent a big box of toothbrushes and Jack Daniel's to the club. Depressants and hygiene remain our two great passions on the road. Also to Chili Jack who made the drive from NY, and will soon take up residence here in Va. Beach, God help them.
After sorting things out with that hotel security guy last night, I was able to walk on the beach 'till about 4am and clear the head, and now I am ready to roll. We head straight home today, and then tonight Marc and I will hunker down for a few hours at a hotel at the Newark Airport and prepare ourselves for a dawn assault on Las Vegas where we have been engaged to play tomorrow night. Sounds simple, but I retain a healthy fear.~Chris
________________________
2/19/03
Webmaster's Note;
The dark and shocking events that took place over the period of Oct. 6-10 ('02) in Las Vegas, Nevada have precluded Chris from making any entries here over the last four months,and only now are he and Marc beginning to function again with any sort of "effectiveness".
Still, basic decorum and the still pending criminal trial of Chris' Hillbilly Enemy in Nevada prohibit laying out much of the detail of these horrific events. What is known is that Chris and Marc returned with the band to CT. on the evening of 10/6 and then turned right around and headed for The Newark (NJ) International Airport that same night, where they checked into rooms at The Holiday Inn and hunkered down in the bar preparing for their 9:15 am(ET) Vegas flight. After that, Chris' notes and all subsequent attempts to discern the twisted pattern of events that then unfolded become so horribly jangled and distorted as to have been deemed useless for this space.
We can be sure that they arrived in Las Vegas early on the morning of the 7th, checked in to two highly luxurious suites at The New York, New York Hotel and Casino on the strip, and began to prepare for that night's performance with several hours at the slot machines, where they believed the free beer to $/loss ratio to be in their favor. (Records show this to be untrue) Mr. Kevin King, who had arranged this performance for The name deleted at lawyer's request Construction Company, recalls seeing The Desberardos at check-in, in a "highly agitated state, clearly trying to appear normal, but wild-eyed and wet with beer." This description can be at least partly attributed to the exploding beer incident in which Chris and Marc were forced to make a sudden, high speed break from the gaming area, chased like common thugs by the in-house security, where they finally took refuge in the Rita Rudner Theater and collapsed on the carpet, cackling like ether-soaked jackals.
Both eyewitness and photographic account confirm their performance that night in the enormous penthouse suite of The New York, New York, and at this point the trail goes cold. When The Name Deleted at Lawyer's Request Construction Company officials exited the penthouse, they apparently left Chris and Marc with the run of the place, high atop the Las Vegas strip in a fully stocked luxury sin-cage, and have since taken a hard-line stance of not commenting on the ensuing days or any damage/defilement/atrocities that may, may/not, have occurred. Indeed.
Sporadic conversations with The Desberardos coupled with the police report from this time seem to confirm these events;
- Chris and Marc subsequently re-entered the casino that morning, and over the next several days, both in tandem and individually, proceeded to embark on a series of whiskey-fueled encounters so horrifying that even the drug-adled, cheap booze-soaked locals categorized them as "bizarre", and many conventioneers and out-of-town families called their behavior "shocking" and "demented".
- Chris, at some point, took into his employ a toothless, gin-soaked NASCAR enthusiast, who had assumed the task of acting as his assistant and liaison' to the Las Vegas community.
- A high volume debate ensued on the casino floor between Marc and the aforementioned hillbilly, regarding his job description, qualifications, and the disappearance of a highly sensitive black satchel.
- At some point later in the day/night, Chris (who after two days of crazy-eyed physical experimentation was forcibly remanded to his suite by casino authorities), was shaken awake by Marc with the dark news that he had been trailing a foul smelling whiskey freak around the casino for hours, surreptitiously watching his movement from bar to bar, initially due to a dislike for his "gib-cut". In fact, a hellish vortex of trouble was swirling about , and they had been asked by the Las Vegas Police to head immediately to The Grand Central Terminal Bar downstairs, where a man claiming to be "Chris Berardo, rock singer and spiritualist" had finally been cornered, after 12-15 hours of a wild credit card spree involving booze, commemorative souvenirs, pornography,high-end whores and other Vegas style family entertainment.
- After much confusing debate about who was who, many forces converged and in a sudden blur, someone posing as Chris (or Chris?) was jumped and dragged off screaming into the bowels of the building, presumably to endure the kind of viscous blood-beating that any Right-Minded citizen would expect.
- Whether or not these men were one in the same is a matter for the courts, to which end a trial is scheduled soon, although Chris has said, "I would not return to that evil scum town, unless it will ensure the violent undoing of my sworn Hillbilly Enemy!" Marc, when pressed, was said to mutter, "This swine -bag got what he deserved, and probably in his heart, what all self-hating pigs like him really want. That kind of dangerous trash cannot be allowed to live off the backs of Artists like us any longer! Let me kick him once more... move!"
Beyond this, it is only known that The Desberardos did not emerge from the casino until the early morning hours of 10/10, and that at 7:37 am (PT) on that day, security relieved Marc of several sharp implements at the Las Vegas Airport. No more records are available. This is all that is known.
Thank You._____________________________
March 3, '03
Well, the big news around here is that the new CD is FINISHED! The Professor and I headed into NYC last week for the mastering session, and then had a wine-soaked Mexican dinner. The End. The only regret is for the people at Vineyard Liquors in Milford, CT who's Schaefer Beer sales will now drop precipitously. We'll see how things go, but it looks like a spring release. We'll keep you posted.
Just got back from The Dogfish Head in DE, where we were happy to see Miss Kimmie and Sandy had made the trip from CT, as well as the famous Chris Curran, who arrived with a gaggle of friends from the NY area. (He surprised us at our hotel with a bottle of Jameson's, which may well explain why late that night Marc removed the smoke detectors in Chris' room, complaining loudly that "They" were spying on us. Who knows? Anyway, the next morning I won a harmonica playing basketball at the arcade on the beach, so I guess it all evens out. The whole crew made it to Manny's in New Rochelle, NY for the gig Sunday, and the laughs continued. Thanks to everyone who's been making that one so much fun all winter. OKAY. 'Till next time, God willing and the crick don't rise!~Chris
_____________________________
March 18, '03
Just got back from Texas. Once again, instead of doing anything actually constructive, I wandered around the state drinking beer, eating spicey food and listening to the others. Have to say hey to my man Joey Tubbs, the world famous tubb bass player, and all my other buddies at the Luckenback Post office. Also, I got to catch up all too briefly with John Bush at The Saxon Pub before his gig with The Patrice Pike Band, which was FINE!, as well as our man Jeremy Bowe, with Rusty Weir. Caught two Reckless Kelly shows, and they continue to sound better and better, as well as being the nicest guys in Showbiddness and my favorite band.
There was too much great music to note here, but let me say that Willis Alan Ramsey at Threadgill's was an epiphany, and if everyone who made music was as talented and kind as Kevin Welch and Kieran Kane, we all wouldn't be in this fix! Honestly, no one does it any better.
OKAY, hope to see you all in The Bars soon. We're the loud ones in the front.~ Chris
_______________________________________________
April 21, '03
Got back late last night from a few days in MD and VA. Possibly more laughs than ever before in Rock History. We had our two new buddies with us, Tom Curiano on drums and Liam Baily on mando/dobro/fiddle, so most of the band met for the first time on Friday in the van. I was driving when we picked up Tom in heavy downtown NYC traffic, so it wasn't until a truck stop in MD that I finally saw him face to face. Handsome fellow! Still, we all shook hands on stage in Baltimore, and played and laughed harder over the next few days than any out of towners should have a right to. You all MUST drive around some with strange men and play wild music in exotic soul-clubs and guzzle and laugh 'till dawn. As a spiritualist and lawn-care expert, I truly recomend it! (For the record, Liam is the strangest/funniest violinist I'm aware of)
Thanks to Chuck at Poe's In Richmond, Andy in Baltimore, and the great bands we played there at The Tattoo, most noteably Steve and the guys from Vulgaria. It was fun listening to you! OKAY, now the collapse...~ Chris
__________________________________________________
May 12, '03
Three days with Marc and I in the van for some duo shows. Thanks to the folks who came out to see us in Rehoboth Beach, DE. I had a great time. A special howdy to "The Queens of The Beach", hope you enjoyed the reunuoin. You stomped through the town like the old days! We look forward to seeing everyone down there again soon.
Straight back to NY and into The Cellar on Saturday. Had us some Church! You've all sinned (I mean really sinned!) but we are here to put you Right! Thanks for the cleansing. See ya at the bake sale.~ Rev.Chris
________________________________________________
July, 7 '03
Hey folks! Just a quick note.Thanks to everyone who's been out to places like The Bitter End in NYC and The High Street Road House in Rye recently. We had a ball both nights, and hope to see you all on our first night in Brooklyn this Saturday.
I think I've finally decided what's going to happen with the new CD, and we'll be making an announcment in the next week or so. Hopefully it will be available before the end of the summer (or close to it). I'll keep you posted. OKAY!~ Chris
_________________________________
August, 7 '03
Chris Berardo and The DesBerardos
Are proud to announce the release of the new CD,
Pure FaithSeptember 23
on
Lamon Records_______________________________________________________________
Tuesday, August 26 '03
Hello My Brothers and Sisters,
As I'm writing this there are seven beautiful deer outside the door here at the ranch, staring at me and munching away. Four little babies. I could watch them all day, but I am compelled to speak to you!
Anyway, thanks to everyone who came out to The Milford Oyster Festival last week. It was loud and fun and hot and sweaty and overall a great day out in the yard! Jethro played air-guitar while stripped to the waist, the black-clad Walking John frightened the locals, The DesBerardos recieved two police escorts in and out of the venue for beer runs, and Kenny The Acrobat's introduction of the show was topped only by his subsequent elaborate hosting abilities backstage, armed as he was with battery operated blender and elegant blue cocktail glasses.
The Marshall Tucker Band was fantastic. I've seen them so many times over the years, and they sound as great as ever. They really are one of the all-time great American bands, and also were a bunch of really nice guys. Thanks to the festival staff as well for a well run and fun show.
The Mysterious Johnny Bongo appeared with Marc and I for some duo gigs this weekend in Westchester, NY and we had Very Big Fun. We got the great Chris "Tiki" Curran behind the bar at both places and that always means a wild time. Thanks to all you lovers and sinners who attended.
I guess a lot of you have heard by now that we've signed a deal with Lamon Records and will release the new CD PURE FAITH on September 23 (I know, finally!) Lamon is a great company full of folks that care about music and has been releasing great records for forty years. We're really proud to be a part of the long tradition there and looking forward to working with them. You'll be able to get PURE Faith in a lot of stores, toll free by phone, on the Lamon website (as well as some other internet distributors) that day, or directly from us at shows starting on October 4 at The Acoustic Cafe in Fairfield, CT.
Looking forward to some fun NY/CT shows, more Chris and Marc duo gigs and getting back out to see our friends out on the road. We'll keep you posted on the "Doings". Why would we leave you out?We Know What You've Done,
~ Chris________________________________
Friday, September 26
Well, Pure Faith was released on Wednesday, and the band and I had a little rehearsal (!) and then sat up on my porch and BBQ-ed and drank beer (and a little whiskey) until all hours. Great day! Thanks so much to everyone that got their copy hot off the press, and if you didn't, we'll have a bucket of them at The Acoustic Cafe in CT on 10/4 and we'll keep 'em in the van for when we visit your town.
Everybody worked real hard on it, especially The Proffessor and Pete, and we're proud of it and we hope you like it. See you somewhere soon!~ Chris Berardo
Silvermine, CT 9/03_______________________________________________________________
Chris Berardo and The DesBerardos
and
Lamon Records
Welcome
Bill Wence Promotions
Bringing PURE FAITH to Americana, College, Country and AAA Radio______________________________________________________________
1/3/04 Silvermine, CT
Hope you all had a great Holiday and I wish you a Big Time New Year! Sorry I've neglected this space. We've been having Great Fun working the new CD, and thanks to everyone who has been to the shows and/or picked up a copy so far. Hope you like it! We had The Greatest Time at the release show in CT and we hope to see you all even more often in the new year. I am going to The Yucatan Peninsula to stare at the ocean. Talk to you soon.
~ Chris
________________________________________________
1/29/04 Silvermine, CT
Thanks to everyone who braved the horrible elements last night and came to NYC for the Bitter End show. We had a great time, although the fact that we chose to sit down during the first, more acoustic oriented portion of the set seemed to throw the NY music community into a tither! No, we weren't injured or mounting any kind of protest, just trying to concentrate on a little "nuance" before the inevitable audio onslaught of ROCK! (what?)
Anyway, we're hoping to be able to do a lot of dates this spring, so please check in and Get Right!
See Ya In The Streets,
~ Chris
___________________________________________________________________
Freeform American Roots Chart
FAR # 54 for January 2004
PURE FAITH
#22!Thanks to great DJs and radio stations, Lamon Records and Bill Wence Promotions!
3rd Coast Magazine
Alternative Country.com___________________________________________________________________
March 1, '04 / NEWS;
Chris Berardo and The DesBerardos are happy to welcome the folks at
Cosmic Entertainment
of Milwaukee, Wisconsin
on board!www.cosmicentertainment.net
________________________________________________April 5, 2004
Back home now, Texas was great. Did some cool radio shows in Bryan (KEOS) and Fredericksburg (KFAN), played our first show ever in Houston (Dan Electro's), returned to the legendary Poor David's in Dallas. We did the cool SXS Austin festival at Jovita's, got to do shows with people like W.C. Clark, Oh Susanna and Mark Jungers, and just played a lot of music and had a great time! So good to see a lot of our old friends, especially out in The Hill Country. Hope to get back soon!
________________________________________________To Purchase PURE FAITH
Call Toll Free!
1-877-692-7999
_______________________________________
A Partial List Of Radio Staions Playing PURE FAITH In Their Rotation
NORTHEAST:
WERU FM E Orland, Me
*WFCS FM Killingsworth, Ct
*ROOTS MUSIC, DARK AMERICANA, AND ASSORTED CURIOSITIES (860) 832-1077
Onion River Radio Montpelier, Vt
WDVR FM Sergeantsville, Nj
WFDU FM Teaneck, Nj
WRIU FM Wakefield, Ri
WSYC FM Shippensburg, Pa
WRNR FM Annapolis, Md
WPKN FM Bridgeport, CT
WMFO FM Medford, MA
MID-ATLANTIC:
WCHG FM Hot Sprgs, Va
WVLS FM Monterey, Va
WVMR Dunmore, Wv
SOUTHEAST:
WJJC Commerce, Ga
WMNF FM Tampa, Fl
SOUTH:WYDH FM Atmore, Al
KASU FM State University, Ar
WEVL FM Memphis, TN
UPPER MIDWEST:
KAXE FM Grand Rapids, Mn
KUMD FM Duluth, Mn
WELY FM Ely, Mn
WTIP FM Grand Marais, Mn
WOJB FM Hayward, WI
MIDWEST:
WRUW FM Cleveland, Oh
WYSO FM Yellow Sprgs, Oh
WWHP FM "The Whip" Farmer City, Il
WEFT FM Champaign, Il
WHAY FM Whitley City, Ky
WMKY FM Morehead, Ky
WMMT FM Whitesburg, Ky
WFHB FM Bloomington, In
SOUTHWEST:
KEOS FM College Station, Tx
KFAN FM Fredericksburg, Tx
*KTEP FM El Paso, Tx-* Heavy Rotation
KPFT FM Houston, TX
KCIE FM Dulce, Nm
KGLP FM Gallup, Nm
KXCI FM Tucson, Az
KRXS - Jukebox Cantina Phoenix/Tempe, AZ
ROCKY MOUNTAIN:KGLT FM Bozeman, Mt
KRCL FM Salt Lake City, Ut Roots & Blues
KDNK FM Carbondale, Co
KGNU FM Boulder, Co
KSUT FM Ignacio, Co
KUTE FM Durango, Co
KVNF FM Paonia, Co
FAR WEST:
KMUD FM Redway, Ca
KVMR FM Nevada City, Ca
KZYX FM Booneville/Mendocino, Ca
NORTHWEST:
KBSU FM Boise, Id
KBOO FM Portland, Or
KMUN FM Astoria, Or
KSMF FM Ashland, Or
KBBI Homer, Ak
KNBA FM Anchorage, Ak
ARCTIC CACTUS HR
KTOO FM Juneau, Ak
KRVM FM Eugene, OR
OTHER:
WVGN FM St Thomas, Virgin Islands ExtraCall or email the station in your area (or streaming), and ask for PURE FAITH. Thanks!
_______________________________________________
Watch for the new CD ... 11/14 06!
Release show, 7/15/06_______________________________________________
"Ignoring All The Warning Signs ..." will have a second national release date on Feruary 27, 2007
Check out our merchandise page to order
CDs, cassettes, beer koozies,
T-shirts, stickers, etc....
