The experiment begins in the Twin Cities of the single state known as Minnesota. Specifically, the legendary Minneapolis rock club, First Avenue, where the artist formerly known as public radio's Garrison Keillor first bathed our world in the purple madness of songs such as, "When Doves Cry", and "Powdermilk Biscuit Rain". It is Keillor's legacy of Midwestern pledge-drive funk that gives They Might Be Giants the idea for its very first venue song. A song that shall never be played again

And They Might Be Giants drives on. To Dallas, Texas, and an unassuming roadhouse with the creepy and enigmatic name, Trees. The band sets to work on a song that will capture the promise of that name, its mystery and strange horror

This is a slightly tweaked version unveiled at the North Six New Years' Eve show. (n.b. The order of the Venue Songs varied from the original setlist in that Los Angeles and Anaheim precede Dallas and Albany, so the libretto for Dallas actually occurs later.)

Now is the dawn of 2006. But, so that we may understand the future days ahead of us, please sip from your way back martinis, and join us now in the past. The year is 2004, and They Might Be Giants, fifteen year veterans of national club tours, once again feel the siren call of the American road. But, this time, they will go about it differently. They create for themselves a musical challenge, to create for each show an original song of its very own. A song that would celebrate the unique character of each venue in which they perform. Not all the songs created on that now legendary tour will be performed tonight. But rest assured, people of (town name here), the less appealing quality of all the excluded songs still echo in this whirlwind sampling of They Might Be Giants' Venue Songs

And the band drives on to Dallas! And to a venue with the unlikely name Trees. Here, amidst the sacred oak groves, high on mistletoe and secret potions, TMBG documents, in song, the strange rituals of the Texas druids and barely escape being burned alive, trapped inside a wicker man. But, in the end, the whole band agrees, it is still better than playing the Dallas Grand Masonic Lodge, those fucking cheapskates