Download Work Party from iTunes + Check out our Irish Tour Dates!!

Hi all!   Hoarsebox will be taking a short break from their album recording in Mississippi with Dennis Herring where they are currently working, to do some Irish shows at the end of March / beginning of April.   These shows will coincide with the release of their new single Work Party which is now beginning to gain great momentum so the gigs are set to be superfantastiche!   You can download Work Party  from iTunes - just search for Hoarsebox and if you haven't already marked a date in the diary, now is the time to pencil one in and come to one of the shows below!!:   Fri 19th March: Crane Lane Cork   Thurs 25th March: Roisin Dubh Galway   Sat 27th March: Set Kilkenny   Thurs 1st April: Button Factory Dublin   You can also subscribe to Hoarsebox's Mailing List to receive regular updates on their lives shows and music news by clicking on below link:   http://www.reverbnation.com/hoarsebox?add_email=true   Hope to see you all at the gigs!!   Hoarsebox Team

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 4 (Tuesday)

Tuesday: As it turns out, Tuesday was actually the second half of Monday. The lads were so disoriented by a combination of hard graft, excitement and unsettling sobriety that what they thought was one day was really two whole working days rolled into one. Monday was really spent getting the drum part perfect. Doesn’t seem like much but if and when you hear it you’ll understand. The snare drum will tickle your belly and make you giggle while the bass drum will wobble your lower bits and make you wiggle. Because Monday and Tuesday are now covered this gives us an opportunity to tell a few jokes: What did the 0 say to the number 8?.................Hey, nice belt! How do you kill a circus? ...................Go for the juggler! Two cows in a field. One turns to the other and says,”Mooooo.” To which the other replies, “Ah ya bastard! I was gonna say that.” How do you spot a blind man on a nudist beach?...........It’s not hard!  (Ha ha, that’s his pee pee) Why was Croatia afraid of Bosnia?........Because Bosnia Herzegovina. (J.H.) What do you call a closet full of lesbians?..............A liquor cabinet. Did you hear about the gay midget?...........He came out of the cupboard. Did you hear about the dyslexic pimp?..............He opened a warehouse. God said to Moses, “Come forth and win all eternity.” .........He came 5th and won a toaster. Why did the girl fall off the swing?.............Cos she had no arms. What’s brown and sticky?.............A brown stick. -          Wow, this is amazing fun. Let’s keep going. Why are there no casinos in China?..............Cos they hate Tibet. Who are the nicest people in the hospital?..........The ultrasound people. (D.O.D.) Why is the ocean wet?.............Cos the seaweed. A man walks into a psychiatrist’s office with his naked body wrapped in cling film and the doctor says, “Well, I can clearly see your nuts.” What did the Mexican say when his house went on fire and fell on top of him?.......Hey, get off me homes! What are the sexiest animals on the farm?........Brown chicken brown cow! (Done in the style of a wah wah guitar to sound like bow chicka bow wow, of course...but you already knew that) Why do women wear make-up and perfume? ...............Cos they’re ugly and smelly. What do you call two Mexicans playing basketball?..........Juan on Juan. What did the left nut say to the right nut? ..........That lad in the middle thinks he is so hard! Why did the fish get kicked out of school? .............Cause he was caught with seaweed. Did you hear about the dwarf that got his hole?.............His mates put him up to it. Why don’t tennis players get married?...........Cos love means nothing.......OUCH! What do you call a Spanish man who’s lost his car?..........Carlos. These jokes have taken a turn for the worse and are now Christmas cracker gags so we’ll stop now. It was good at one stage but not anymore. Let’s change the subject and talk about something else.......like?

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 4 (Monday)

Week 4: Monday: Rested and raring to go, we got to the studio ready to start recording or “tracking,” as the music type people like to call it. “Oh Dennis, Oh Dennis, what will we start with?” Cried Hoarsebox. “Ummm, let me see,” said Dennis, rubbing his chinny chin chin. “How about Add It Up!” He said as the boys jumped up and down and gave each other cool high fives and froze in the air while their memorable and adorable theme tune played in the background and the credits rolled.....introducing Johnny Holden as “Keys,” Kieran Walkin as “Low-Fi,” Max Carpio as “StixxX” and Philip Broadbery as “Chops.” Anyway, Max spent a little time with Kyle the engineer and Michael the tech getting an incredible drum sound using our cunning and wits and pieces of notepaper and a subway travelcard and some chewing gum and a McGyver DVD and a few giggles. We all played the songs together in the main room. Max has never sounded so expensive. Everything he touched sounded like it had to be cleaned by a snooker referee every two minutes and owned its own villa in Marbella...blah blah blah...expensive. We’re spoiled. Max did a couple of warm up takes and that was it. Technology polished his turds, or at least Will, the strong and silent intern did on pro-tools. Max doesn’t mind as long as his drum turds look like something out of “Avatar: 3-D”. Once the drum track was down we moved on to concentrate on the other instruments. Bass next and Kieran couldn’t believe how posh he could sound. He was like Julia Roberts riding Richard Gere for a new dress and a necklace. His bass sound was, is, will be from the future. Everything he played sounded like he was a famed futuristic Jazz bassist named Pancho Zeep-LaFornier that would play solo concerts in the International Concert Hall on a massive spaceship in Battlestar Gallactica...or something?  It was starting to come together. We stopped for a wheatgrass with ginger shot and smoothie break, as you do before Space Monkey got his nappy changed a couple of times and was re-programmed to make things work a little better. Then Phil got his turn at sounding mega. He had a couple of goes and nailed it, like the semi-professional that he is right now and won’t be for long if this all works out.  His fingers sounded like Kobe Beef that was massaged by Kim Kardashian while she was bathing in milk and was being massaged herself by Julia Roberts in her new dress/necklace combo. Priceless really. Johnny spent a little time having fun twisting knobs and fiddling with buttons to make funny swooshy sounds and zeeeeooooooooo noises that laid a colourful smorgasbord down for us to play with later when we sing. Everything was great and we were happy and proud.  Dennis was steering the ship, and rocking the boat and manning the lifeboats as we floated off into musical El Dorado. Enough was done so we stopped for our customary late dinner. More Japanese. MORE JAPANESE! We could eat beer with chopsticks now if we needed to...but thankfully we don’t.  Bedtime.

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 3

Week 3: Falling off the wagons. Monday: It snowed quite a bit, enough for Dennis to fall on his arse while acting the maggot playing with his son Sam. Sam also hit him twice in the same ear with snowballs. I’m not sure Sam is aware of just how expensive his dad’s ears really are. Did a little reworking of “Rosey” and tried to figure out the lyrical content for “You lie, you get more.” Several herbal teas, toilet trips, carrots, celery and hummus breaks, attempts at reviving poor aul Rosey and a few laughs later and it was time for our usual late dinner. Two Stick for fresh and delicious Japanese. We eat there so much we may be turning Japanese, I think we’re turning Japanese...No, seriously, I really think so...or whatever, who cares! Tuesday: Got to the studio early to go through the new songs with Space Monkey. Trying to practice for our upcoming weekend gig in Parrish’s. We wanted to gauge the locals’ reactions to our new material and see if Hoarsebox were still making old people dance and young people laugh, or if we could now make young people dance and old people say things like, “these flamin’ kids and their drum machines and colourful t-shirts and crazy drugz culture and their Santa Gold and their M.G ‘n’T and En Dubs...I just don’t get it...these Hoarseboxes used to be so happening...then they went all electric, like Dylan!” Anyway, as it turned out Dennis had done some proper damage to his back from the fall the day before and had to go to the doc for anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxants and other fun stuff and wasn’t going to make it. We had plenty of other Hoarse-related work to be doing. Johnny took a trip to City Grocery bar to sip wine and write lyrics, while Max updated photos and sent diary entries and ideas to Girvan Gilhooley, your willing and honoured Blogger and massive Hoarsebox fan. Phil was busy designing gig posters for our forthcoming Work Party tour of Ireland and the West of Ireland. Kieran was sorting out online content and organizational bits ‘n’ bobs. Johnny returned sweetly pickled and happy with his day’s work and we ran through the songs a few times in the studio. Late late dinner. Sarah, the lovely waitress in Proud Larry’s, made sure we were fed after the kitchen had closed. Pizzas and burgers and beers and wines and off to City Grocery to have a quiet drink before retiring for the evening. Wednesday: Max woke up at 7pm to find his knees and hips bruised, a cut over his right eye and a nasty graze over his right ear, not to mention a distinct feeling of unease and nausea and a pair of broken spectacles. We had met some pals outside the bar the night before and gone to a party nearby and then another and ...maybe another? People are very friendly here and they always invite you for a drink in their homes. Nice and old-fashioned. Max had looked really cool standing on the porch with his hands in his pockets and then he looked less cool with his face flat on the ground and his hands still in his pockets. His glasses took one for the team and saved his face from extensive damage. The glasses were broken into several pieces but will never be forgotten. Thankfully Philip and Kieran were on hand to take good care of their fallen friend, even though they were close to oblivion themselves.  We had lost Johnny to the night hours before. The house key was also lost along the way so a little breaking and entering was done. We should really have stolen something from the gaff but it was all our stuff and we were tired so.....Anyway, Wednesday was a write-off but Dennis was recovering and it was our day off so.....SO THERE! Thursday: Broke the back of “Rosey.” It now has something new and it’s good. Worked hard and long. Not much to report. The same ole working day spent drinking teas and going to the toilet. Oh yeah, it was roasting on Thursday. The snow was replaced by blazing sunshine and warm air. From heavy jackets and frozen faces to t-shirts and nature’s vitamin D. We were happy but such shifts in weather made for some dull chats about global warming. Who cares, pass me my cool sunglasses so I can look cool in sunglasses. YEEEEOOOOOOOOOUUUUUU!!!!! Friday: Worked on “Meet the Meat Puppets.” It has potential and will probably be called something else when it’s finished. Something classier like “Say hello to my meaty friend” or “Meat me in the lobby of Destiny.” Went through “Rosey” a few times to see if we still had feelings for it and we did. It’s still all fun and squishy and boppy an all. Talked about our top 5 choices to record straight away. It looks like 4 certainties: 1.       I won’t worry 2.       Up 3.       My Grey Pilot 4.       Add it up The 5th is up for debate but we don’t seem to care which one is picked as we like them all. It seems as though “You lie, you get more” is making a break for it. Lying is cool. Johnny and Phil went to Power Station to check out a gig. A local band of young fellas called “Young Buffalo” were playing and because it was some kind of launch for a magazine they had free cheese and wine...except it’s Mississippi so there wasn’t any cheese or wine, just  pizza, doughnuts and beer. They got themselves a good spot at the front only to be visually assaulted by a “burlesque” dancer. Less burlesque and more burley, less dancer and more stripper. She was in her underpants but had the common sense and decency to sport tassels on her nipples. They giggled and shot some video and then enjoyed Young Buffalo before heading outside to watch two girls do tricks with fire sticks only to set fire to their own hair. What a funny place. Anyway, Johnny and Phil went home and went to bed. AAAAAHDDDD   SSSAAAAYYYYYYYYY  SOOOOOO ....NINE TIMES NAY NOVER...RAAAAASSSHHHEEEEEE   HO....AAAAAHHHHDDD SAAAAYYYYYYY!!!!! Saturday: Seeing as we had 8 or 9 songs firmly in the bag, Dennis felt it was a day for less stressful work.  We needed to sort out the backing tracks for the gig so Phil and Kieran got all computery and nasty with Michael, Sweet Tea’s wonderful tech/engineer dude, plugging things in and out and at and with and talking click tracks and inputs and stereo splits and robots in swimsuits and all that other cool stuff while Dennis, Johnny and Max popped up to City Grocery to brainstorm more ideas for “You lie, you get more.” Dinny and Max threw ideas and red wine at, of, for and with Johnny to see if anything would stick and sure enough some stuff did, or at least made them all laugh. Dennis let Max eat the olives from his dirty martini cos he was starving and clearly desperate.  Begged and borrowed and stole gear for the gig. Lots of our pals turned up to support us. Played old skool Hoarsebox in the first half and then hit them with new rave HoBox in the second. They were drunker, we were too, but Space Monkey had impregnated Max’s i-pod with drum beats that kept us on our toes and the fans on their dancing feet. There was even a tip jar that was filled by appreciative folks with an ear for a good tune. Went to the most generous party of all time and played pool and ate chicken wings and sipped on peppermint schnapps like gentlemen and the rest of that is history. Sunday: Max had a weird dream that he floated home in the sunshine on a large white feather only to hear the sounds of singing and laughing coming from the back porch. He jumped over the fence and was greeted by the lads, except Phil’s head was three times the size and bright red like a giant fresh tomato with a face, Kieran had no eyes and 8 arms and was growing out of the ground and Johnny was a marathon runner who could only run on the spot and he was wearing all this really expensive running gear and a headband...They all sang songs with Space Monkey who was now a snare drum with arms and was hitting himself on the head with drumsticks. They hugged and turned into one large hamburger with fries on the side and a pickle ...and maybe some barbecue sauce and some chicken nuggets and ummmmmmm...and then Max woke up feeling good and ready for a relaxing day. We had an even more relaxing evening gig in Taylor Grocery Restaurant where we played an acoustic set in exchange for our dinner. Blackened catfish, blackened chicken, lots of sides like coleslaw and brown rice and salads and fries and lots of hot sauce and yum yum and then home. Beddy bies. Monday we begin the recording process. Making real things is always good. Please stay tuned.

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Hoarsebox March/April Irish Tour Dates!!

Hi all!   Just a quick update to remind you that Hoarsebox will be taking a short break from their album recording in Mississippi with Dennis Herring where they are currently working, to do some Irish shows at the end of March / beginning of April.   These shows will coincide with the release of their new single Work Party which is now beginning to gain great momentum so the gigs are set to be superfantastiche!   If you haven't already marked a date in the diary, now is the time to pencil one in and come to one of the shows below!!:   Fri 19th March: Crane Lane Cork   Thurs 25th March: Roisin Dubh Galway   Sat 27th March: Set Kilkenny   Thurs 1st April: Button Factory Dublin   You can also subscribe to Hoarsebox's Mailing List to receive regular updates on their lives shows and music news by clicking on below link:   http://www.reverbnation.com/hoarsebox?add_email=true   Hope to see you all at the gigs!!   Hoarsebox Team

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Week 2

Monday: Set up the gear in the studio that night upon returning from New Orleans. Tuesday: Worked on “Add it up.” We are in the main studio, positioned in a tribal circle with our instruments. Dennis leads the musical seance with a drum machine we call Space Monkey. Space Monkey wants Max’s job, it’s actually worse than that. It’s kind of Single White Female as Max had mentioned that he wanted to get himself a hair cut, a proper mohawk, and the next day Space Monkey was there with the oddest looking Mohawk you’ve ever seen on a drum machine. Dennis keeps him in line though and makes him work hard making deadly beats. “Add it up” is working really well and we’re happy. Wednesday: “Up” and “My grey pilot” get a good reworking. Our music will now alienate all the old people who like us but make our young target audience want to give us things like money and attention and praise and ten penny bags. Works for us. “Up” is all early 90’s Hip-Hop/R’n’B,  a la PM Dawn...”Ah ha ha, haaah, hah, I know this, much is, true-oo.”Dennis is breathing lots of life into the music and bringing out what’s best about what we do...well,  he’d better f*cking be, WHA?!!! Thursday: “I won’t worry” is next on the block. It gets its flares chopped off and is given a fancy “New Rave” grey scarf with flurescent colourdy splatters to wear when watching Skins on E4. It’s a euphoric dance number now with pretty melodies and an outro that’s leave pill-headz killing each other for the last drop of water in the house. Friday: “This Club” sheds it’s Katrina and the Waves face for a little more honky-tonk, handclap extravaganza. If you’re going to party, you might as well get the clap. It sounds great and has buckets of energy. Space monkey was off trying on Max’s underpants on the sly so the lads got to clap their hands and sing without being creeped out by his quite obvious attempts to kill Max. A few days later on Valentine’s day, Max awoke to find all his socks chopped up and glued together in the shape of a heart and a note reading, “walk a mile in my shoes, push my buttons  like I love you, turn me on and you’ll know my power...1...0....1...0....0...1....0....1....1.....1.....0.....Lot’s of love, a secret admirer monkey.” We just confronted him about it and he felt stupid so all that seems to have blown over. Let’s be professional about this Space Monkey. We’re all after the same goal. Chicks and floppy discs. Saturday: Our day off was spent doing very little. Johnny swam, Phil went to the barber’s next to the studio to get a wee trim and listen to the old lads, who were pretty much exactly like the lads from “Coming to America,” talk about their fear of flying and of boats. Barber: “WHAT? You ain’t never been on a boat?” Gent #1: “Hell no, I can’t drink that much water!” Philip looked dapper and had cleary laughed his hair off. Kieran and Max stayed home and pampered themselves by doing nothing. They hung around the house in their pygamas, eating marshmallows and telling each other secrets. Apparently Kieran fancies Miley Cyrus. Max is going to tell her.....when we win our grammy for Best New Song by a foursome in a supporting sausage roll. We struck a deal with Parrish’s Bar to play a set in exchange for beef stew and beer. That way we could test drive the newly reworked tunes in front of a clueless audience. We played some old songs and old people danced. We played some new songs and the young people danced. Simple. Although at that stage everyone was blotto and would probably have danced to the sound of ants crawling through their brains. Anyway, went to a party and were popular for a couple of hours signing some of our songs, then some classicly destroyed  covers like Beyonce’s “Crazy in love” and Peter Gabriel’s “Sledge Hammer,” but were asked to leave once we started doing our now infamous 90’s medly. “All that she wants is another baby...return of the mac...informer, ya no si de de ma deiiiiya, a lick ya boom boom down...!!!” Back to the house with some fun people, someone did the splits, human oreo sandwiches, Cameo’s “Candy,” Max bumped and ground until the lactic acid built up in his thighs and he had to be subbed off, lots of Budweiser, gospel singing and other other blah. Bed. Sunday: Johnny and Phil somehow got up earlyish and went into town for breakfast. They looked like zombie extras from Thriller wandering around looking for brains for brekky. Kieran woke Max up so he could fall down drunk in the shower. Subway sandwiches. Studio. Water, camomile tea, water, wee wee, water, camomile tea, wee wee...worked on “You lie, you get more.” Space Monkey saw that Max was struggling so he gave him a hug and told him to sit in the corner and enjoy singing the song while he took over drumming duties. Max got excited and just danced. Fun. The song sounds great. Dinner at Taylor. Fried catfish, fried chicken and fried shrimp. We did have small salads...good effort.  Good day’s work too.  Happy Valentine’s day.

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iPhone App Users: download "Band in the Hand" - it's FREE from iTunes!

Just a reminder to all iPhone / iTouch Users that you can download our iPhone App "Band in the Hand" and hold us in your hands:-) You can download the App for FREE from iTunes, just search for Hoarsebox: http://www.apple.com/ie/search/?q=Hoarsebox The App includes our bio, videos, photos, and "Ask The Band" through which you can ask us as many questions as you wish!! We are looking forward to receiving all your questions!! We would also like to remind everyone that you can find us on the following sites: Link to our Facebook Profile Page: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/hoarsebox.kieran?ref=profile Link to our Facebook Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/profile/15924771949 Twitter: http://twitter.com/Hoarsebox Link to our brand NEW Home Page: http://www.hoarsebox.com/home/ Link to our MySpace Page: http://www.myspace.com/hoarsebox  Link to our ReverbNation Page: http://www.reverbnation.com/hoarsebox Link to our Bebo Page: http://apps.bebo.com/my-band/artist/hoarsebox Link to our Best of Bands Page: http://www.bestofbands.com/band_profile.php?id=1001394 Link to our RAWRIP Page: http://www.rawrip.com/hoarsebox Link to our new Blog: http://hoarseboxinolemiss.blogspot.com/2010/02/mr-sippy-chronicles-of-hoarsebox-day-1.html Link to our Mailing List: http://www.reverbnation.com/hoarsebox?add_email=true Thanks for all your support and we hope to see you at one of our live shows soon! Hoarsebox

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Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Day 8

SUPERBOWL SUNDAY
The Saints vs. The Colts
Hoarsebox vs. The idea of being calm
Dog Parades vs. Mardi Gras
Self-preservation vs. Communal Spirit
Street marching bands vs. house music in a throbbing gay bar
Sleep vs. the thought that we might miss something
Free old rubbery hotdogs in the pub vs. an amazing pork sandwich Max kept from lunch hours before
Peppermint Schnapps vs. Miller High Life ( The Champagne of Beers)
No mobile phones or any way of contacting each other vs. allowing ourselves to get lost and see what would happen

One o'clock-ish:
Were supposed to go to a fancy restaurant where we needed our fancy man sport coats but fell out of the hotel a little too late to make it. Headed to meet Dennis and Aaron with some rough directions and not the phone we had left in the hotel. Walked to Bourbon Street, or Bon Bon Ave., or Custard Cream place or some such, everyone wearing the Saints' gold and black. Brees 9, Sharper 42, Thomas 23, Colston 12, Bush 25, Vilma 51...Throwing colourful beads all over the shop. Surprising really that no one lost an eye, or some teeth or.....something something.

Two o'clock-ish:
Dennis and Aaron were surveying the streets above Jackson Square on the balcony of an absolutely incredible restaurant called Muriel's. It looked like the kind of place where Scarlet O'Hara used to go to have a quick bite to eat before heading upstairs to take milk baths with moustachiod women dressed as Rhett Butler and drink absynthe out of an old slave's shoe before retiring for deep tissue massages and gumbo facials on the balcony, while watching the sun set on what was then probably known as "The Small Easy." Anyway, it was nice and considering we were dollied up to the nines in our sports coats and sunglasses and newly-acquired colourful beading we felt like we fit right in.

Three o'clock-ish:
Anyway, a shared and shaky-handed beer in a plastic cup later and we ventured to "Luke," an oddly-named but fine restaurant where we had the most scrumdiddlyumptious craw fish bisque, BLT with breaded crabmeat, pressed sandwich of cochon de lait (fancy way of saying pork in milk - sounds manky but it was rapid) and some other crap. Max held on to half his cochon de lait which came in handy about 8 hours later when himself and Kieran lashed into it during a time out in the 3rd quarter of the game. If it hadn't been for that cochon we would have been gonners.

Four o'clock-ish:
So from there to Kerry pub where there was a small but influential gathering of Oxford, Miss folks we knew. Not sure how we ended up in an Irish pub in New Orleans, maybe we missed our mums...we do miss our mums but to be honest it was the first place we went to and we found a good spot standing right under a huge telly. There was an incredible sense of well-being and excitement in the city. Like a big Christmas party where we were all related and we loved each other and were all looking forward to our favourite American football team destroying the Yankee Colt SCUM from the north...WHO DAT SAY DEY GONE BEAT DEM SAINTS?!!! WHO DAT, WHO DAT?!!!!!

This last sentiment was echoing around town like a communal mantra. Everywhere and anywhere. WHO DAT...WHO DAT???

The Game began at 5.30 and this is what followed:
Commercials, commercials, commercials...Beer, vodka and coke, gin and tonic, fat man, loud girl, WHO DAT, sausage, beer, commercial (old people getting bashed out of it on a football pitch)...kick-off, bedlam, WHO DAT, hot guy at bar, hot sauce, Peyton Manning, Freeney got a sack, Johnny annoyed lots of people by asking silly questions about the game, millions of bats circling outside, smoke, beers, touchdown...Philip to Johnny, "Here you have to come outside and see these f*cking bats!," girl on stool, WHO DAT, nearly bloody incident with girl's fingers and fan, our new friend Short Charlie screaming "Defense, offense, go stop play!!! Why good bad...WOOO!," more peppermint schnapps which leveled the head and eased the mind, Phil found a lovely clean toilet across the street, WHO DAT...Saints score and people are wrecked, we scream and hug things, interception, blood-curdling joy...SAINTS WIN, SAINTS WIN!!!, we start an ole ole chant and everyone joined in.....Then a brazilion people everywhere, bars, Bourbon Street, banging heads, primordial gutter soup, sausage soup?, schnapps, oldest bar in the world, aul one on piano singing "Piano Man" and "Piano in the wind," and "Bye bye steak and kidney pie," "Don't stop believin." We managed to sing "Oh when the saints go over there" over everything she sang, she had sad hair and a face like a well-chewed toffee or an Elvis peanut butter and banana sandwich, Adderall, the streets were once in a lifetime, congealed, confused, pandemonium, Sweat and tears and beads and plastic cups and old lads hugging each other in the jacks, dizzy gay bar, dizzy straight bar, straight gay bar and bar dizzy gay straight blah, Johnny walked into a truck's side mirror, Mother Cluckers for spicy spicy chicken served by that mad fat Chinese lad, Chrystal hot sauce and unison snoring in bed...sneaky pukes.

OVER.......we done dat.

Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Day 7

Day 7 started like any other in Oxford, Miss. but ended in a blurry mess sometime around 10 AM on day 8 in New Orleans, Louisiana. The only weird thing that happened in Oxford was that Max, Kieran and Phil went for a run. It was painful. The roads here don't encourage anyone to walk, jog or cycle. There's just enough room for those gigantic off-road mountain vehicles everyone uses in the suburbs. Weirdos. Our bellies were looking up at us, wobbling and teary-eyed, thanking us over and over again for helping them. "We thought we were gonners," they'd say in their chubby tummy kind of way. We will probably run more now so we can justify our gluttony. Johnny has been swimming everyday so he's grand. Or at least we think he has. He leaves early and comes back with wet hair and smelling of coffee. If he's not swimming then we don't want to know what he's been up to.

Dennis picked us up at 4 o'clock to start the 4-5 hour journey to the Big Easy. The trip was spent listening to all our songs and figuring out which ones fell into the following categories: Bad, Good and Top 5. Very technical musical terminology there. The idea now is to start on the 5 tunes that are absolute and utter goers. Hits, chart-toppers, life-changers, penthouse suites, gold poodles, the finest A.D.H.D. medication money can buy and all the fried chicken we can eat type songs that will change our lives forever...but not us of course because we'll always be humble an all that.

Once we have the 5 songs to start with we.....we can't tell you. It's top secret. We simply cannot allow the likes of Whitney Houston and Seal and Cat Stevens and Rachel Stevens and whoever to steal our cool ideas and rejuvenate their weird careers. Anyway, we have a plan in place and we're all very happy about how things are going.

Where were we? Oh yeah, get into New Orleans at 10.30ish with sore bums and hungry guts. Dennis' old friend, an absolutely lovely and entertaining man called Carlos, met us at a mad little place called Jackomos where we ate fishes and calamaris and tiny skinny fries and gumbo and shrimp etoufee...they even had red cabbage cooked down with sausage. How the hell do you reduce a food down using sausage? Lunatics! A local gent bought us beers upon hearing we were from Ireland and didn't expect any chat or anything in return. Amazing!

Then Carlos took us to the Saturn Bar on St. Claude avenue to watch a bluesy African American gent play a blues guitar and sound like loads of other bluesy people with a blues band of lads who didn't really seem to have any blues to speak of it seemed. They were white, and I don't know if that has anything to do with it cos I thought everyone got the blues, but these lads looked quite content. A beer there and off to another place to watch a locally renowned black midget blues man called "Little Jimmy," or was it "Small Joe," or maybe "Tiny Terry" or "Donal Beag?" Anyway, he looked like a black Elmer Fudd in cowboy drag and actually wasn't really all that short. False advertising we think. He did play some nice stuff though.

Out in the street we were captivated by the first in a long line of the small marching bands we encountered. There was a chap with a bass drum wrapped around his chest with a teeny tiny cymbal popping out the top. He was Max's hero. He followed a pretty lady down the street serenading her with sweet sweet kick drum action while the rest of his mates stayed put killing Marvin Gaye's "Sexual Healing."

Another bar and another...and a vowel and another and a consonant please Carol and another bar...lets see, anything interesting happen? Johnny and Max got into a heated argument about...can't remember, could have been the "everyone can dunk but not everyone can finger roll" argument or the old "brown sliced bread is really white bread dyed brown" disagreement. They made up and hugged in the next bar, even though both had forgotten they had even argued, or were even in New Orleans...weird but they were probably drinking whiskey by that stage so...whatever.com.

Carlos went home, we went to our hotel and said g'night to Dennis before getting giddy and legging it out again. Philip remembered the address of the last place we were at, like super Rainman or Good Will Hunting out on the lash. What a memory for a party! The rest of the night was just a variety of 24 hour bars for nachos and dirty aul toilets and saying "Who Dat" a lot without knowing what the hell it meant and taking photos of ourselves riding locked bicycles and finally getting kicked out of some place, can't actually remember why. Max and Philip decided to head back to the hotel...again Philip knew where it was without knowing where the hell he was. Amazing and Johnny and Kieran got back into the bar by offering the barman 8 dollars, which he politely returned and then bought them drinks......then ?????????

We opened our eyes and it was Superbowl Sunday in New Orleans. Time to get the dinner jackets on and get ready to scream relentlessly all day. WHOOOOOOOOO DAAAAAAAATTT!!!!!

Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Day 6

Kieran Walkin' served up some french toast from France and some bacon from.....Bacon Rouge? Brock came to drive us around. We needed sport coats for the restaurant we'll be dining in for lunch on Superbowl sunday. Apparently it's an old tradition and you can dine in your assless chaps and superman cape with a balaclava if you like as long as you have a sport coat. Thrift store one just had piles upon piles of clothes strewn all over the shop but Phil found a Caddyshack purple and blue tartan coat...with shoulder pads. He looked like Tiger Woods if Tiger Woods had been cac at golf and loved shoulder pads. Kieran went for a black tuxedo jacket so he could bring a little James Bond "You never live a golden eye thunderpussy twice tomorrow" kind of vibe to the party. Johnny found an exceptionally nice pair of brown brogues. 8 dollars and 17 cents all in and on to the Goodwill.

Max finally found a coat he wasn't swimming in. A navy double-breasted gay boat captain number with loads of golden buttonz WEEE while johnny got himself a dashing brown waistcoat and a delicious shiny peach champagne jacket which fitted him like a sausage in a breakfast roll, or like a glove...whichever you prefer. Breakfast rolls are delicious so.....whatever.

Popped in to Sweet Tea studio to catch up with Dawn the manager and shoot the scheisse with Michael the engineer and then home for Max's Spanish tortilla, Phil's coleslaw and Kieran's salad.....It's like Speed with Keanu Reeves, we are an eating bus that's out of control and if we don't ingest something every 14 minutes we all develop HUGE adam's apples like Sandra Bullock. We watched Dylan Moran's "What it is" and piddled ourselves laughing.

All this time there was a rack of ribs cooking ever so slowly in the oven. Phil had glazed it lovingly with soy sauce, honey, garlic, ginger, mustard and several blown kisses. We ate that with baked potato skins with melted cheese and a case of beer...this is getting ridiculous now.....

We finished the night by singing all our songs, some Crosby, Still & Nash, Beyonce Knowles, Radiohead, Ace of Bass, Informer by Snow, Prefab Sprout and loads of other junk. Max and Johnny stayed up to watch "Beyond the Mat," a documentary about wrestlers like Jake the Snake Roberts and Mankind. Jake the Snake, wowee, what a disturbingly sad existence. His snake looked like it had had enough and would try and convince Jake to hang up the leotard even though he knew the leotard was the only thing that made Jake feel like a real man. I respect the snake's loyalty. Johnny and Max felt good about the fact that they don't work for Vince McMahon and instead play nice songs and eat everything in sight all the time.

I'm sure you can figure out what's going to happen tomorrow. We're hungry already thinking about it...maybe it's actually heartburn. Who cares...FEEEEEED MEEEEEE!!!!!

Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Day 5

This day started like any other.....eyes opened, clothes were put on, foods were ingested, tv was surfed, southern accents were butchered, etc, etc...but it rained, it rained relentlessly. Worked on a wee piece of music Phil came up with. It's quite lovely. It's a cross between Tina Turner and.....Hootch. It will be a number one hit in the Maldives...and the US? Fingers crossed.

Johnny braved the wet weather so he could do the opposite in the pool. Max gave himself a mani and pedi and facial scrub, all with an old hairy bar of soap he found behind his bed while Kieran went about sorting the dozens of bottles of various barbeque sauces he found in the fridge and cupboards. He categorized them based on spiciness, colour, texture, cardiovascular endurance, vertical leap, emotional openness and general hygiene. Philip wore sweatpants and facial hair quite convincingly all day as he went about deconstructing and rewriting Plato's "Simile of the Cave" into a Gary Sinise sci-fi vehicle featuring space monkeys, Bob Hoskins and a cyber armadillo who had trained in the Royal Shakespeare Society but was now doing blue movies with ex-cast members of Cagney and Lacey......something something AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

A little cabin fever set in but we pushed through and ate a wonderful chili con carne Phil had made, topped with blue corn tortillas, avocados and sour cream. Sorted out our plan with Dennis to go to New Orleans for Superbowl XXLLRWIIOOPSTYXZZZNN?+*&%^$£""XIII. Johnny wondered if the locals will be more or less destructive if they win. He had been in Valencia (Spain) when they won La Liga (Soccer League) and the town was set ablaze. If it gets out of hand we'll just grab a bottle of bourbon and hide under a table. Crazed sports fans never look under tables. They're too busy ripping their shirts off, french kissing all the men around them and crying.

Anyway, we all spent a little time on our own then...having a little communal chili break every now and then with the occasional quesadilla, yummy. Then more bed to ready ourselves for the next day's action.....Purchasing second hand sports coats, eating french toast and bacon, writing more popular music, hearing ourselves getting fatter and much much more.......smiley face, etc.

Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Day 4

Brock came to pick us up. He brought a pump for all our sports balls. He's a thoughtful and kind young man. He dropped Johnny off at the pool and Max and Phil bought the most unbelievable dried pork crackling. We ingested pure pig fat and felt weird. We headed to a famous town called Tupelo...famous cos Elvis, of Elvis Presley fame, was born there in the tiniest house you'll ever see. Ironic considering what a fatty he ended up being. Anyway, Kieran needed something fixed on his bass and a wonderful guitar shop (Main Street Vintage Guitars) was recommended to us by our producer Dennis. We saw a picture in the store of Dennis when he was 17 and it gave us a wee chuckle. He actually kind of looks younger now...he's introduced us to drinking the blood of young pigeons and eating the cartilage of raw fish. We feel younger but we smell weird.

Anyways, we went to check out the little Elvis birthplace museum thing and bought postcards with famous Elvis recipes like fried banana and peanut butter sambos and other things that make you want to cover your fat belly in a white sequenced jumpsuit. There was a great quote on the wall from his cousin, "Elvis never forgot his raisin'." Ironic again as I'm pretty sure a piece of fruit, fresh or otherwise, never passed his chubby lips.

So off to Ely's Barbeque for some local treats...shredded bbq'd pork and chicken, coleslaw, fries and the sweetest sweetened ice-tea ever sweetened with all the sugar...ALL THE SUGAR! It must be said that all the ribbing Elvis just received from us is out of love and an understanding of just how easy it is to lose oneself in southern comfort food.

We went to Parrish's again and the owner, Parrish himself, bought us a few rounds of different things and we began to reenact our shouty pool playing from the other night. To make sure we didn't go down that road again we organised to meet Dennis for dinner. Japanese. Lots of fresh tuna, salads and tempura. Our bodies were confused by the freshness but were grateful for the break. A nice time was had and he spoke fondly about our music. We like that kind of thing. A plan was hatched by Dennis to go to New Orleans for the superbowl. The New Orleans Saints are playing the Indianapolis Colts for the right to be crowned champions of the world...even though they probably wouldn't let a team from another country play...that's for the best really as someone would get hurt, and it wouldn't be the Americans. Anyway, New Orleans, if the Saints win, will erupt into a whirlwind of boozing, boxing, horn-playing, looting, pyrotechnics, bad french, a little voodoo and a lot of fun. If we're there we'll soak it up. If not then we'll avoid getting punched or looted. Win win really.

Somehow we ended up in City Grocery again having the cheapest beer in the place, Paps Blue Ribbon. Cheap and cheerful we were. Brock came to save us and we hit the sack...via a McDonald's drive-thru where we laughed so hard we couldn't even order.....we really really slept. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Day 3

Day 3 was a rest day. A really really rest day. Went into a place called Wing Fanatic where Mr. James, the rotund, sedentary and friendly owner went through a list of his 50 fanatical chicken wing flavours. Sweet heat being the number one, parmesan and garlic (which was a bit feety), napalm, rum and coke, root beer, jack daniels (?), peach barbeque, southern comfort...etc, etc. Really odd but intriguing flavours. Max and Johnny went to the Goodwill charity shop where Max found another American football for throwing and occasionally catching and purchased a cowboy shirt Phil could wear when he's not wearing his only other cowboy-style shirt. It was red and nice. Johnny found nothing that tickled his anything. Phil and Kieran went to try and find a computer game called "Call of duty: Modern warfare 2," where people call for you to do your duty in a modern war-mongering way...twice.

Johnny haggled with the people at the University of Mississippi's sports centre to get a nice deal on swimming pool access so he could get an all over body tone-up on his time off from laying down sweet vocals and playing some catchy keys. Then back to the house where Johnny treated everyone to his special and delicious Caribbean curry with sweet potatoes and and other nice things. We spent the next three hours trying to watch Groundhog Day. 3 minutes of the film followed by an eternity of ads and back for 3 more minutes of what is really a truly great movie.
A little UFC's greatest knock-outs and we were out like a light. Bed at 9 is deadly.

Tomorrow features pulled barbeque pork, Elvis' birthplace, several toilet stops, meeting up with Dennis for dinner and other amazing and riveting things and whatever...

Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Day 2

Max's Birthday Celebrations:
Up at early o'clock cos our bodily timers are shot to bits. Purchase an American style football and a european style soccer ball that we throw and kick for a little while before putting on our glad rags and our faces and swallow the first beer to celebrate Max's birthday...in to Oxford town for a couple two three delicious red stripes in Proud Larry's, the scene of one of the least packed and most fun gigs in Southern United States history. Then off to 2 Stick Japanese restaurant for lunch. Sushi and hot soups and bleedin' rapid tempura to go with the more red stripes an all. Wander across the street to Parrish's bar for pool-playing and whiskey. Kieran shows everyone why he's loved and hated in equal measure for his billiards "smack talk," Max knocks the lights hanging over the table clean off and fumbles around trying to fix it without falling down or breaking his legs or spilling everyone's drinks or melting chocolate on his own face...We were joined by friends we met last time we were here. We give them big hugs.

Move on to City Grocery...Max doesn't remember anything past the pool table but Johnny, Kieran and Phil head round the corner for pizza in Square Pizza where they grab the guitar the owner is playing and tell him, "it's grand, we're a band doing an album of songs with ...of... a place Oxford town...rock'n'roll thing...something blah blah...WHA!" He asks them for a song and they do an improvised rendition of Beyonce Knowles' Crazy in Love. Apparently it sounded bad and the owner thought they were serious...apparently they were serious. It took Kieran half an hour to tune the guitar. He gave them eleventeen rounds of pizza, they dropped some on the ground but didn't eat it...but Kieran did eat it. Then back to City Grocery where Max was holding up the bar with his jaw. Phil laughed at Max because he looked silly. Aaron the fantabulous barman/singer/songwriter gave them all the drink they could not handle very well but...blah blah...something something...and they all got up early again the next day.

Stay tuned for day 3 when Hoarsebox eat more fried chicken and buy another American football.

Mr. Sippy - Chronicles of Hoarsebox Day 1

9.30 AM on sunday, flew to Hampsterdam where we ate ham and cheeshh sambos and went through that machine that looks at you in the nip to see if you're dangerous for planes an all and then boarded a very nice plane with lashings of movies and empty seats for lying on. Four Christmases, Sin Nombre, 500 days of summer, The Informant, G.I. Joe, Perfect Getaway, District 9, etc, etc...weird rubber chicken dinner...then no food for 6 hours so Johnny and Max ate 17 packets of complimentary peanuts, Phil's legs swelled up and Kieran, Kieran was content.

Got out and hurled our enthusiastic and mouthy selves at the emigration officer who coincidentally was keen on transferring to Dublin Airport's US emigration office so he could "party and meet Irish women." Lucky turn for us as he didn't ask us any tricky questions...even though we have nothing to hide, except for our genius, that's extremely well hidden. Met our driver, Brock Hudson (no joke). A young, powder-faced punkrock kid from Oxford, Miss. Cracked green and blue nail polish on his fingernails. Stopped to stock up on beer as we remembered the absolutely no alcohol sold on sundays policy in Mississippi, and it was Max's birthday so something had to be done. A few cases of Miller High life and delivery to our home for the next couple of months. A delightful open-planned bungalow with all the trimmings. 4 bedrooms, 4 and a half bathrooms...ever try to wee in half a bathroom? You need sniper willy!

Got some gumbo and Po'boy sandwiches and clam chowder and fried chicken and had a couple of beers in front of the telly...trawling through 17,000 channels of ads and folks who are really enthusiastic about their religion and some other stuff and decided we'd get a good night's rest and prep for a proper birthday celebration starting early the next day and ending when our spirits were broken.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!