Kevin Bronson on September 14th, 2009

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[L.A. songstress Jonneine Zapata and her quintet are on their first big tour, supporting the Mark Lanegan-fronted Soulsavers. Here’s Chapter 2 of her tour diary:]

Sept. 9

Cold, windy night in San Francisco. Sort of crept up on us. The Independent is a great space, the house crew are comical, and if you can still use the word friendly without being ridiculed, well then, they are the friendliest crew you’re gonna come across. As far as the show tonight, it was sort of a homecoming for Jeff & Jeff; Cohlman being from Fremont and Mendel spending his college years at Berkeley made for lots of family and friends in the house. Two things that marked the evening for me – first, the lighting, which was in direct proportion to the feel of the city (at least to me): unusual, contracted, and beautifully arranged. Second, is Martyn LeNoble schooling us how to play Porno for Pyros “Blood Rag” backstage. Oh, and third, Lanegan’s response when I asked him if he’s bothered by me doing vocal warm-ups in the bathroom next to his dressing room. “Not at all,” he said with a big Jack Nicholson smile, “I have a parrot at home.”

Sept. 10

Troubadour. Home turf. Although we’re originally from all over the U.S. with the exception of Johnny Badway (he’s from Belgrade, Europe), we’re basically an L.A.-based band. Weird making a tour stop in the city we all live in. Disruptive in many ways. Phones blowin’ up and everyone seems a touch more nervous than usual – the band gets pulled in far too many directions and it’s easy to lose sight of what our job is here tonight. Troubadour is one of the very few clubs in town we have not played, plus it’s “the spot,” so we’re psyched. So what if the house barback refuses to talk to us, or acknowledge us while stocking our dressing room – and I’ve already been lectured not to spit on the stage. … Lets just say it’s not so eezy-peezy today, but Soulsavers have been so incredibly kind, supportive and generous – it’s humbling and very inspiring. That in itself, set us up right for our set. By night’s end, I almost lose my voice from talking over the loud house music (very dangerous when touring), ditched the after-party, hit Astro, forgot to get paid and, wow, do we need to reorganize the van! … My heart belongs to Portland, still.