Saturday, March 28, 2009

minivan cab driver has the same gps as us

Our van broke down last night. It could have been a million times worse. Luckily we were a block away from our friends house and in the middle of LA and not in some desolate desert hamlet. It made the most godawful noise and the smell of gasoline started pouring in through the vents, literally choking us. Everyone on the street was looking at our van. It sounded like a little mini Cessna airplane taking off. We had just left for our show at Spaceland. Nic being the only one who knows anything about cars diagnosed the problem as spark plugs and we found a nearby garage, dropped it off, and called a cab, preferrably the minivan kind. $60 cab ride to silverlake. Nic pronounced Sepulveda as Se-pull--veda, similar to Sepultura. We made it to the show, but I may or may not have lost one of my guitars. Standard fare for me. I lose everything. You'd think I'd keep better track of something like a guitar, but no, apparently I don't.


Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Mystic Knights of the Desert

I'm at a Holiday Inn in Demning, New Mexico. We've actually stayed here before, 4 years ago on our first tour. It's one of those swanky ones, with a bar in the lobby and a continental breakfast. Of course, the continental breakfast has no bearing on us at all as we're never up and ready to eat by 10 AM. Speaking of hotels/motels/Holiday Inns, I wanna talk about the nastiest place I've ever stayed in.
An hour or so after crossing into Texas, you'll reach Marshall, Texas. Nick thought that might be where that movie "We Are Marshall" took place. I thought it was in our neighboring West Virginia. I guess I could look into it, but I can't really be bothered by some wack Matt McCauneghey?? movie. Anyways, in our quest to save money, we decided to stay at Marshall's Budget Inn. Now there are motels called Budget Inn all across the US, but I don't think they have anything to do with each other. All of them have different logos and signs and look completely different.
We should have asked to see a room before we forked over the $53 to stay there.
Remember that kids, if there is an inkling of doubt in your head that the motel you're staying in might be the kind where roaches are playing poker when you walk in, ask politely to see a room.
I can't describe the smell. Just take my word it was a godawful mixture of sulphur, BO, rancid cheese and a faint lingering dirty diaper smell!
OK, it wasn't that bad, but it was bad. Let's leave it at that. Our new bass player Derek was tempted to sleep in the van after I told him he was sure to contract Scabies if he slept in one of the beds and Scabies lay eggs in your skin. He toughed it out as did the rest of the boys. Thankfully, my recent purchase of an air mattress at Super Target in Orlando really came in handy. No Scabies here. You'd have to ask the other boys if they were so lucky.
Short story short, a screaming baby kept us up most of the night and woke us up from a few hours of unrestful sleep at 7AM. Did I mention that I love babies?
So we stayed in a flea bag motel. It wasn't the first time, and it sure as hell won't be the last. It was just the worst. So remember Marshall, Texas and Budget Inn and stear clear amigos.
In better news, we had a day off on our drive out of Austin to Phoenix so we stopped at White Sands National Park in New Mexico. You've gotta go through a government checkpoint or 2 to get there, but Sickels was wearing a Jack Daniels hat, so the guards just asked if we were all US Citizens, we said "Yes, Sir" and he waved us on. I appreciate the security, especially considering the government Missile testing ranges around there and lord knows what else.
White Sands is wonderful. Sand that is pure white and looks like snow as far as the eye can see. We goofed around a bit and filmed some stuff on our sweet camcorder and everyone offered that White Sands would be a "pretty great place to take 'shrooms". So if you're at all prone to desert mysticism or 'shrooming or our nations lovely national parks, or just white sand, check out White Sands.
I'm off now, but hopefully I'll check in sooner next time. Internet connections aren't as easy to come by as everyone would think.
So if you have a heart at all you'll go to your local record store or Amazon and buy/order it. Help a brother out.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


Apparently I talk in my sleep. Obviously, I haven't been aware of it, but never the less, yes, I'm a sleep talker. Much better than being a sleep walker. I recently came across the ultimate somniloquist, Dion McGregor
( Dion was a song lyricist whose only success was some Barbara Streisand song. But McGregors real claim to fame was his talking in his sleep. His roommate started recording his vividly detailed dream talk in the early 1960's. Fucking Decca Records put out an LP of him talking in his sleep in 1964. I was amazed when I found that out. That's postmodern before postmodernism really took over our culture. Of course, you don't have to go hunting high and low for this rare vinyl gem because (surprise surprise!!)Dion McGregor has his own Myspace page. I'm not saying you'll be blown away or even entertained for a long time, but it's some wacky stuff and we all could use a little Wacky D in our lives.
Moving on.
Another bit of wackiness and proof that something is terribly wrong with what we humanoids find entertaining. Imagine 2 of the most grizzled, crotchety, nastiest, alcoholic old men you can think. Imagine they were roommates (!?) who absolutely hated each other and argued incredibly loud all the time. Now imagine your apartment was adjacent to theirs. Got the picture?
Well, there were 2 such old men who had some enterprising neighbors who managed to tape record their incredibly entertaining arguments which often include one of them threatening imminent death and/or grievous bodily harm to the other and frequently telling the other to "Shut up, little man!". That's right folks, I'm steering you to listen to 2 nasty, drunken old men arguing. You can listen to them or even watch youtube videos with puppets playing the parts of the old men. Both are pretty funny. Apparently, these recordings were well known in their native San Francisco/ Bay Area in the late 80's/ early 90's, but I never claimed to be CNN.
Read all about it and listen:

Here they are, with puppets playing the old men.

and here's another just for the hell of it:

That's it for now. We'll be in Austin for SXSW, so if you're down there or going to be, drop us a line or even better, come see us play at Maggie Mae's on Friday, March 20th @ 5pm sharp.
I'm glad I could share people arguing and talking in their sleep with you. Who knew it could be so fun?


Monday, March 9, 2009

hit the road, jack.

After our show last week in NYC, we decided to take our friends offer to crash at his place in Jersey. In between New York and his house, is the wonderful, and friendly neighborhood of Paterson, New Jersey. For any of our fans who actually live there, you know just how friendly it can be.

It's 2 am, and we're at a red light under a bridge. we were also near some railroad tracks. I know what you're thinking, under a bridge + railroad tracks + 2 am = trouble.. well, hey, you're right! The scene couldn't have been anymore out of a movie, and just when i realized this, the star antagonist comes rolling up with a ski mask on. im not joking. i mean, it WAS cold outside, but even still, everything was set in place for my bandmates and i to get robbed.

Dude comes strolling past my window (i was driving, and the only sober one, so the guys didnt totally realize what was going on) giving me the nastiest, most evil, mean muggin' look of all time. Did i mention both of his hands were inside his pockets? Right then and there my instincts kicked in - RUN THIS GUY OVER! well, not really, but my suspicions of this guy being a total creep were correct, when i saw him out of my side mirror. He walked past our van, stopped, looked in the back window, and then lunged forward at my door. This is the point where in a split seconds time, i slammed on the gas, cut the wheel to the left, almost ran into the car in front of me, and went through a red light. I also possibly could've ran this guy over.. the world may never know.

Now, im not totally positive we were about to get robbed/car jacked, but given the circumstances, its highly possible. Thank God for my ongoing battle with my stomach, and its inability to consume alcohol, or we all could've been in trouble that night.


Sunday, March 8, 2009


Nightlife in Pittsburgh.
Some images might spring to mind or maybe you're drawing a complete blank. Regardless, The Takeover UK would like to share a snapshot of a night on the town in our wonderful hometown with you.
This last Saturday, a couple of us had the pleasure to check out the 'Burgh's hottest nightspot, "The Matrix" for the very first time. For the uninitiated, The Matrix is located in Station Square, just across the Monongahaela from downtown. This, my friends, is where the fun-loving denizens of Picksburgh come to let off steam, bump and grind, and drink away the horrors of the work week.
A few days home from tour and an invite to a friends B-day party gave us all the reasons we needed to throw goop in our hair, break out the silk pants and silk shirts with dragons and flames riding up the back, shell out $10 to park and drink all the redbulls and vodkas we could stomach. Luckily you, my friends, are never far from our minds. Wanting to share all the magic, we took a couple choice pics of our night and we're thrilled to share them with you. So sit back, close your eyes, and scroll through the partypeople of Pittsburgh. Maybe you'll even smell the AquaVelva and puke...

Here I am standing next to a short guy. She's off camera, but this guy was dancing with an Amazon woman who looked like she's slam dunked a few b-balls in her day. FYI- my buddy Ian and I would pretend to be posing for a pic next to our subjects while my girlfriend would snap the pic of said subject. Sneaky, isn't it? And yes, if it looks like I'm having the time of my life, that's because I am.

Ah, this is my lovely girlfriend and two Euro looking dudes. She went up to these guys and told them she worked for and asked if she could take a picture with them. After asking if it was a sex website, they happily obliged.5 minutes later they came looking for her, asking if she would delete the picture because one of them had a wife. She deleted one of them, but kept this one. Sneaky, Sneaky. PS - dude on the left is wearing our signature brand "Takeover UK Ibiza-style" sunglasses. Available at most Pac-Sun stores.

The crowd going crazy to an All American Rejects jam. Oh yeah! When we got to the club, they were playing the Electric Slide. So pending on your taste this is a step up or a step down.

A spry, scantily clad lady dancing on the bar. At least 5 middle-aged gentlemen sat on stools staring up at her like this was the Rhino Spearmint. Happily, she left with the one who had the smallest bald spot out of all of them. I'm still convinced she was an escort, but maybe it's true love.

This guy was sitting with said gentlemen, watching the gals gyrate on the bar. He was really getting into it, dancing in his seat. In fact, he was so infected by dance fever, he jumped up on the bar and started getting jiggy with it. The Matrix not being that kind of club, the DJ was none too pleased to see this young man dancing with the ladies. He proceeded to tell the young man to get down. Some words ensued and the DJ tackled this guy and manhandled him all the way to the side exit door. The whole incident lasted 30 seconds. Poor guy, my girlfriend swears she saw him dancing alone by a payhone in the parkling as we were leaving.

Another lady dancing on the bar. Me and Ian enjoying being two of the many partypeople.

This guy was a real bummer, you know, a real Debbie Downer. He slid up to my gal, roses in one hand, a Bud Ice in the other and offered to buy her a drink. He then proceeded to tell her about his exciting life. "I'm a fat black man with a car, and a house. Who gives a fuck about me? No one, that's who." She tried to soothe him by telling him there's someone for everyone but he wasn't having it. But hey man, at least you've got a car and a house. Way more than me. I'm just a 1/4 owner of 1997 Ford Club Wagon.

A few more highlights from our night out on the town.

P.S.-- there's the B-day gal herself, Lindsay, on the far right gazing at the next America's Best Dance Crew

We came, we saw, we took some choice pics. And soon, we're back out on the road again. Will I ever return to the Matrix? No. I can breathe easy and know that I'll keep that promise. But I hope this be a lesson for you all to take away. You've gotta make your own fun wherever you go. And if a friend drags you to a crowded, sweaty dance club filled with cheesy dudes and obnoxiously drunk girls, bring a camera my friend.