300 Songs

A Eurail pass from the 1980s.

Stream or order this album here. 

The Eurail Pass, originally known as the Europass, held special significance for many in my generation. It was offered by a consortium of European rail companies to promote tourism. The concept was simple: you purchased this pass and could hop on and off nearly any train in participating European countries, traveling almost anywhere you desired. Naturally, it became quite popular among American college students of my generation.
In my song, I use the Europass as a broad metaphor for my decidedly hedonistic tour of Europe with Camper Van Beethoven. I had just broken up with my long-time girlfriend (referenced in the song “Mexican Chickens”), and thus began a period of indulgence and misadventure.

I took a red-eye out of L.A.
To London Heathrow
The fucking Columbia Hotel
With a bath down the hall
Now I’m drunk in the bar
On the floor looking for
Fifty pence to make a phone call
Down the hall
Pretty please look at these
Mrs V you could be my spirit animal
For a while

The song begins with me drinking at the infamous and somewhat seedy Columbia Hotel in London. Originally, the Columbia Hotel was a collection of five Victorian townhouses that served various purposes over the years, including residences for opium dealers, merchants, and generals. During World War II, it functioned as a Red Cross hospital run by Lady Randolph Churchill. In the 1960s, it became an Air Force officers’ club. By the late 1970s, it had transformed into a “rock and roll” hotel where touring bands stayed.

By the late 1980s and early 1990s, the hotel’s bar was the place to be after shows let out. It was often filled with members of several bands, their crews, entourages, and various hangers-on. In the mid-1990s, Oasis famously trashed the place and was permanently banned.
As I mentioned, it wasn’t a glamorous hotel. Performers stayed there because it had a rock and roll vibe. The cheaper rooms had shared baths, and most rooms didn’t have phones, certainly not for international calls. In the hallway off the lobby, there was a bank of pay phones. To make a call back to the States, you needed a teacup full of coins to continuously feed into the phone due to the high rates. There was invariably a line of foreign musicians waiting to call their girlfriends or wives back home. In the song, I can’t find any change to call a girl back in the States, so I start hitting on a random girl in the bar.
 
If I make it out the other side
I will be a king and you will be queen
But that’s only if I make it out the other side
it’s totally unclear that I will ever get my shit together
If I make it out the other side
I will be an archduke and you will be some kind of lady
If I make it out the other side
If I make it out the other side


Musically, the verses are driven by a “four beat,” often referred to as a “Motown beat,” with a snare on each quarter note. However, the chorus cuts the tempo in half and shifts to a standard backbeat, effectively reducing the tempo to a quarter. This deliberate juxtaposition mirrors the contrast found in the lyrics.

In the verses, the mood is gritty and frenetic, reflecting disarray and spontaneity. The lyrics describe fleeting connections with women who are referred to as “spirit animals.” In contrast, the choruses slow down the tempo and introduce grandiose dreams. Here, I imagine myself as royalty, an archduke, a film director, or a cult leader, promising deeper connections with women whom I elevate to titles like queens, ladies, muses, or movie stars. Despite these grand visions, there’s always a warning that I may crash and burn before achieving any of these dreams, leading back to the next verse, which invariably tears down anything built up in the previous chorus. Hence, the line: “I’m so full of shit, I’m in this for what I can get.”

This musical and lyrical structure provides an honest reflection of where my head was during that tour.

Now it’s time for me to go
That’s the end of the show
Forget the promises made
Already on the ship Dover-Calais
 
So classic girl our little thing
In Groningen don’t mean a thing
I got a Europass appetite
So play guitar and hold the mic
And stare straight out into the light
Never let them see you sweat or smile
 
If I make it out the other side
I will be a film director
You will be my favorite actress
If I make it out the other side
Though it’s totally unclear that
I will ever get my shit together
If I make it out the other side
I will be the circus master
You will be my favorite acrobat
If I make it out
Promise if I make it out

I’m so full of shit
I’m in this for what I can get
In a Bochum disco blue light
A cheap thrill
A good high
You in the skinny pants
Come with me we can dance
Doing lines in der Zandbankbar
Come with me to Copenhagen
You are now my favorite flavor
Ghost you later in the Free Town
 
If I make it out the other side
I will be a cult leader
You will be my number one acolyte
If I make it out
Though it’s totally unclear that I will ever
Get my shit together
If I make it out the other side
You will be my muse
And I will always be your faithful servant
If I make it out
Promise if I make it out the other side

There are a couple of other interesting notes about the recording. I originally recorded the acoustic guitar and banjo years ago in my home in Richmond, VA. It was a piece of music for which I didn’t have lyrics at the time. In the second chorus, there was always some percussion noise, like bells or a tambourine. It didn’t sound bad, so I didn’t try to remove it, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It wasn’t until we were mixing the track that the engineer, Drew Vandenberg, isolated the sound. He didn’t recognize it, but I immediately knew what it was. It was my son’s old dog, Scylla, standing up and shaking. The very familiar sound of that dog’s tags and harness must have been recorded when I was playing the banjo part.

The pedal steel solo played by Pistol is intentionally not a clichéd pedal steel part. He wanted it to sound more like a saxophone solo. If you listen closely, you can tell.

++++++++++++++++++
Bryan Howard: bass
David Lowery: guitars, banjo and vocals
Luke Moller: fiddles
Carlton Owens: drums
Matt “Pistol” Stoessel: pedal steel

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