The Leg-autres have been shipped!! Better late than never…?

Here’s a video to celebrate:

Go listen to the single streaming online.

ORDER 7″- $5.00. Select shipping destination

7" USA (w/post) $7.00 7" Canada/Mexico (w/post) $7.75 7" Rest of World (w/post) $10.00

UPDATE (11/24): The record is officially out today, and thus the pre-order is over. Thanks to everyone who placed an order! There are still some copies left, so get your orders in soon. If mp3s are your thing, the single is now available at all of your favorite online retailers.

We’re very excited to bring you the latest in Eux Autres Eux-mas madness! Our new 7″ Another Christmas At Home will hit the streets on November 24, but you can order yours now. There are only 250 copies of available, so be sure to get one early. This is the first time our Christmas song will be available on vinyl, and we’re throwing in our version of Slade’s classic “Merry Xmas Everybody” (previously only available on the out of print CD from 2006), as well as a brand new cover of The Jacobites’ “Teenage Christmas on the b-side. The single is pressed on beautiful red vinyl, and the silkscreened sleeves were created by Nicholas. To sweeten the deal, the first 25 pre-orders receive a very special Eux-mas gift–custom Lego band members. Who doesn’t love lego people? With each 7″, you get little toy figures of Heather & Nicholas (sorry, no Yoshi figure. He didn’t play on this record and was being shy about becoming a Lego man. Maybe next year).

Order yours soon…the pre-order freebies went very quickly last time. As usual, all copies come with download codes for mp3s of the songs.

Check out all the artwork below. And then go listen to the single streaming online.

7" PRE-ORDER – $5.00. Select shipping destination

7" USA (w/post) $7.00 7" Canada/Mexico (w/post) $7.75 7" Rest of World (w/post) $10.00

We thought copies of this CD were completely gone, but we found another box of them hidden away…and they’re the nicer second pressing, containing a foldout book with lyrics. Head over to the shop to pick up a copy.

We’ve just added a new t-shirt to the shop. Definitely our favorite Autres t-shirt yet. Supplies are limited, so order yours soon…we should be receiving more smalls soon.

More info.

Our new EP, Strangled Days, is out in the US today! Pick it up at any of your favorite online retailers. Most of the EP is currently streaming at bandcamp. 10″ vinyl copies are available from the UK through wiawya.com and roughtrade.com.

Nick, Michael and I wander off to get the car, which we’ve left parked at the club overnight so that we could go to places like Mr. B’s. Since we’re already going to be in the tourist area of Munich, we want to buy some souvenirs. Plus we realize we’ve bought nothing on this trip. First we hit a football store, picking up some birthday gifts for our littlest brother Mikey, then I discover a store that could best be described as marzipan wonderland. I adore marzipan, and this place has marzipan shaped into all sorts of other food—pretzels, sausages, beer steins, turnips. I consider buying a new suitcase to accommodate all this marzipan, but settle for two small “pretzels”.

We get the car, go pick up Yoshi at the hotel, and hit the road for Dresden.

We have one more show, and the whole drive, I’m thinking about how to approach it psychologically. Should I say to myself, hey, you–tour has exceeded all of your expectations, so don’t worry about this. Or should I secretly hope for the astounding finale? I can’t decide. I’m very nervous.

For the first time this whole tour, we arrive at our destination early enough to check into the hotel and explore. Dresden is such an intense experience, because everywhere you look, you imagine the rubble that was left from the firebombing. And then here and there, there is actually rubble, or charred bricks way up on a tower. The texture of the cityscape reminds me of an old growth forest, with all of these generations of structures co-existing–some dead and fallen and some just beginning, telling the story of the place.

The club Osto-pol is a space that has been dutifully restored to East German-ness, down to the glasses, the light fixtures, and even the wallpaper. It is truly one of the most compelling bars I’ve ever been in. Sitting in there is like being transported.

The proprietors have made us vegetarian pasta, and we sit in the low light of the empty club and eat like a family, the four of us seated around a weathered farmhouse table. We are quiet, conserving energy and avoiding the temptation of sentimentality about our last meal together.

By the time we play, the club is packed with the most glorious indie kids. They are radiating happiness and love, or maybe it’s just me, but I don’t care because the room is full of the kind of noise that only we make and all these people are smiling. When we finish, the crowd spills onto the giant patio out front, where everyone sticks around, hanging out and talking like old friends into the wee hours of the night.

We walk slowly back to our hotel where we pack our bags for the last time and set the alarm for far too early and then we are asleep and then awake again and it’s not until I’m on the plane that I absorb that it’s over. I pull a notebook from my bag and scrawl pages of notes so that maybe when I get home, I can write at least some of it down for real. Then I fall asleep again, because finally, I can.

After another day off in Berlin, in which we eat ice cream and wander around and I am terrified by trying to ride a bike all over the city, we head out for Munich. At the rental car place, we realize that we’ve accidentally packed up the other band’s cymbals along with ours. This creates a major logistical glitch that puts us very far behind schedule. We have a long drive ahead, and a radio interview we’d really like not to miss.

But soon, we’re on the autobahn. We’re all very sleepy, but Michael is navigating through the speeding traffic like an expert. Nick is talking a mile a minute, making him laugh to stay awake. But his charm doesn’t reach the back seat; Yoshi and I fall asleep.

The scenery is beautiful, and wherever there’s a retaining wall, the kind that in the States would obstruct a breathtaking view, it is instead constructed of a clear material, to preserve the aesthetics. Ahh, german engineering.

We pull over at a gigantic rest stop. Yoshi hits the Burger King. He tells us about a controversial incident on the Still Flyin tour in which he was forced to abort a mission to Burger King. He takes a photo of his meal and emails it to members of SF, just to let them know that Yoshi has not forgotten.

Finally, we reach the radio station in Munich–which is clean and very perfect-seeming. The more polished cousin of boho-Berlin.

We go inside and record an acoustic mini-set in their performance studio, then do a radio interview. The acoustic set sounds great, really different than normal (duh), and the interview questions are really thoughtful. For example, we’re asked why we named ourselves Them Others; do we feel like outsiders in the world?

The show is at the Atomic Cafe, an extremely cute place. It seems like noone is showing up, and then just as we start to play, it starts to fill in plenty. The mics are feeding back insanely, but the crowd stays with us, and we soldier through.

We take a cab back to our hotel. We ask the driver how long it would take to get to Dresden, where we’ll be driving tomorrow. He seems to have no idea what we’re talking about. “DREZ-din,” we keep saying. Finally, he understands: “Oh, you mean DREEZ-din?” We’ve never heard it called DREEZ-din, not by Germans even. (The next day we will ask someone in the city of Dresden why this man was calling it DREEZ-din, and she will be just as baffled as us.)

After we check into our hotel, we go out in search of a nightcap. We wander into a bar called Mr. B’s. It is a jazz club, and it turns out that the proprietor grew up less than a mile from where I live in Brooklyn. He proceeds to tell us a lot about America. Michael is fully engaged, but the rest of us drop out of the conversation and stare tiredly into our drinks.

Then, a very drunk young couple comes in, asking loudly for a cold ­we mean COLD–drink, preferably beer. The other two patrons in the bar, obviously so regular as to be part of the furniture, get completely furious, insisting that ALL of the beer is cold, and what do you mean anyway asking that kind of question?! Much screaming and table pounding ensue. Mr. B evicts the couple. We finish our whiskeys and head back to the hotel, where we’re sleeping four to a room. All tucked into our twin beds, we get the terrible giggles. Things have taken a turn for the ridiculous.

Due to having Monday and Tuesday off, I’m compressing several days into one.

Since the amusement park/Pains of Being Pure at Heart Copenhagen adventure night, we:

-Visited a commune called Christiana that was closed up for the day. Evidently, hippies hate Mondays as much as the rest of us.
-Wandered around in the rain trying to find the statue of the little mermaid (HCA version, not Disney)
-Left Yoshi to hang out an extra day in Copenhagen while we went on to Germany
-Got in a big sibling fight in the Copenhagen train station over what the proper response to stress is: (choose one) a) dramatically slowing down or b) dramatically speeding up
-Decided not to spend $8.50 on a Starbucks latte in the Copenhagen airport, cursed Starbucks for the 18 millionth time
-Flown the best airline I’ve ever been on: SAS
-Ate spaetzle, which made me wish I were a stoner
-Repeatedly failed at going shopping
-Slept a lot
-Went to a neighborhood biergarten where the bartender kicked us out (although charmingly) because he needed to go see a metal band called Carpathians
-Met some great Berliners
-Walked about 200 miles

Today is our Berlin show. Our party has been joined by my special friend, Michael, who will be driving us on the autobahn to the rest of our German shows.

The venue, the Bang Bang Club, is tucked in a dark alley underneath the elevated train. Outside the crypt-like entrance, we notice a beautiful poster for the show, which gets us very excited about the possibilities of the evening.

However, sound check is a bit trying. Michael has brought my Nord keyboard from home. I plug it in, but it doesn’t work. Over the next hour, fumbling with various plugs and converters, we discover that I’ve blown it up, by subjecting it to too much voltage. Somehow, there is also no floor tom for Yoshi. Sorting through these details of no drum/no keyboard makes soundcheck last a hefty 2 hours. No one is happy.

But Jule, one of the promoters is in the backstage area compiling a delicious meal for us. We chat while she makes little sandwiches. I eat 8 hazelnut wafers.

Then we go kill time (that’s code for drink beer) and wait for the show. When we return to the club, I am shocked to see a friend from Portland, Oregon. He says that he was on the street in Berlin the day before and saw a poster for our show and decided to surprise me. I have some other friends from New York in the house as well; it’s an international summit here at the Bang Bang.

The show is terrific; the ladies who are putting on the show love pop music and have rallied Berlin’s pop community into this cozy club. The crowd is funny and enthusiastic and a little sassy.

Afterwards, we all hang out and listen to the promoters spin records. Eventually, I wander off to help celebrate my friend Tara’s birthday in a nearby hinterhofe, losing Nick and Yoshi. I miss hanging out with them all the time–now, we’re all staying at separate places, with separate friends, and I long for the days of being crammed in some tiny hotel room like sardines. Sort of.

I wake up early–because I just feel like I’m missing out if i wake up past 9:30, no matter how late I go to bed. Plus, the hotel has free breakfast. Free food is usually not worth it, in my opinion, except for free hotel breakfast. It’s not even the freeness that’s so great; it’s the not having to go anywhere. Just being handed a cup of complementary coffee feels like a miracle to me.

I harangue Nick into accompanying me to breakfast, and the spread is completely incredible. (I had also hoped that this particular perk would give me some insight into Swedish food, and indeed it does). There are eggs, 3 kinds of sausage, liver pate, 5 kinds of hard cheese, 4 kinds of soft cheese, pickles, fruit, muesli, swedish pancakes with 4 kinds of jam, 4 kinds of toast, Nutella, cereal, pastries, odd milky concoctions, and a whole bunch of stuff I can’t even remember now.

We then return to our room to enjoy our last hour of plentiful towels, great water pressure, clean sheets, and CABLE.

Yoshi and Jaime knock on the door and we’re off, lugging all of our stuff once again to the train station. We’re going to Copenhagen to hang out for the next 30 hours, until we head to Germany for more shows.

We have a night of amusement planned: First we’ll hit the Tivoli Gardens and then we’ll go see the Pains of Being Pure at Heart play.

We rendezvous at the entrance to Tivoli Gardens (I actually love that we have to make plans like this–due to no phones) and spend a couple of hours wandering in the amusement park, while we wait for darkness and the magical lights to come on. Close to the entrance, there is a stage show involving gigantic puppets, people running around in black suits, and an enormous “boom box”. It is truly confusing.

Time to go on some rides. Yoshi, Jamie and I ride a roller coaster called the Demon. Next, Jamie sets his sights on the ride that is the centerpiece of the park. It involves a gigantic pole and some swings that are not much sturdier than those of your average kindergarten. The concept is, you’re suspended way up high over the city and then spun around so fast that the swings go nearly horizontal.

I volunteer to go with. Traveling has made my mind entirely too flexible.

Right as we’re being hoisted up the pole like some flag of the apocalypse, I have a moment of clarity: What in the holy fuck am I doing? I HATE heights and spinning and death by freefall. About 50 feet off the ground, I realize that I have a much bigger problem than my personal preference for low-elevation, non-deadly forms of entertainment. My problem is, I am in serious danger of losing consciousness and/or pissing myself. If I lose consciousness, I might slip out of the seat and fall a million feet and then Jamie will be scarred forever, which is totally no fair–and if I pee my pants, then I will spray the entire park like a crop duster once we start spinning fast. I have too much dignity to go down this way.

Cruelly, we get hoisted up much, much further. Then the satanic machine starts to spin. As the wind begins whipping my face , I know I must convince myself that none of this is actually happening. I squeeze my eyes shut and start counting: “One thousand one, one thousand two…” I realize I’m saying this out loud, not just in my head–no wait, I’m screaming it. Jamie is laughing in that giddy way that only a person who knows he is about to die can.

Back on terra firma, once I can make my legs function again, we head to the show. The Pains are absolutely great, and the crowd is so, so into them. It’s one of those great traveling moments–how did I come to be at this show of a Brooklyn band, with these friends I love, so many miles from home?

We hit a few bars afterwards. At some point, I get burned by a girl’s cigarette–I just sort of lean into it somehow. The incident leaves an interesting-looking welt on my arm, sort of like a fingerprint, with intricate swirls and striations. My lone souvenir from Denmark, other than some black licorice from Tivoli.

We eat late-night shwarma and then retire, having had a day filled to the brim with all of the best life has to offer: music, togetherness, aimless wandering, mortal terror, muesli. Done and done’r.