Stuntin on the runway. #liveat35 #taylortour
He helps us write songs and makes sure the demos sound good. Thanks Louis.
I’m the best you can get, have you guessed me yet?
“Chapter one: He was too romantic about Manhattan, as he was about everything else. He thrived on the hustle and bustle of the crowds and the traffic. To him, New York meant beautiful women and street smart guys who seemed to know all the angles.” Woody Allen, ‘Manhattan’
#flashbackfriday recording our very first tracks. @goodoldkeith @danoldwar @worldcupp
Caption contest. Go!!!
Finch. Our old friends are back on the road. So happy for em. @rvndy love love.
#tbt little Timmy at the sea shore.
Another pic by the lovely, wonderful @mgoodwin111 of our lil private session on the boat.
Singing on a boat! Thanks for the snap @mgoodwin111 !! #rbxiii
Florida
Went to a beautiful #basquiat exhibit today in NYC. Snapped this one before getting yelled at.
Signed one of these bad boys last night. #rockandroll #nondrowsy #williamsburgva
On the iPod as the crucial roadtrip piece by Tim Arnold of Good Old War
I’m sitting with my legs outstretched on a bench in a very large gray van traveling at 70 miles per hour somewhere between Vancouver, BC and Edmonton, AB. This is the beginning of a twelve-hour drive, one that was preceded by a four-day drive from Jacksonville, FL to Vancouver.
I’m listening to Ween on headphones, Jason is listening to the Bill Bryson audio book A History of Nearly Everything while he drives and Keith, Dan, and Annie are asleep on the futon that was placed on the ground of the van after two benches were pulled out. This particular twelve-hour drive is one that we’ve done a number of times but it holds a special place in all of our hearts as a result of it being fucking beautiful out here.
There are mountains, rivers, raw countryside, and a crispness surrounding everything that makes me feel like a man. I breathe deeper and fill my lungs with glorious, clean, Canadian air. Roads are cut into mountains as if God himself drew the lines with the tip of his finger. Trees towering overhead pointing to a sky that is something to be seen only by the naked eye make me feel like I’m flying. We’ve been on the road for about an hour now and everything is groovy.
Photo: Keith Goodwin
