That’s why we’ve spared no expense to put together a crack team of tour date specialists. More than just data miners, the itinerary crew is second to no one. They take no prisoners in the daily fight for date, city, state and venue, nor do they leave any clues. They move like the night and sting like Ali.

Take Wendy, the squad leader, for example. They call her the “Black Widow” because she’s buried 13 husbands in the past 12 months. All died mysterious deaths, but the police haven’t been able to touch her. Maybe that’s why she gets along so well with the booking agents for U2, The Wailers and moe. They speak the same language.

Then there’s Carrie, the quiet, reserved one in the corner. Visitors always remark that she looks so innocent as she updates the Capitol Steps schedule or researches Pissing Razors and Al Stewart. No matter what kind of day it is, she always greets you with a smile and a kind word. Yes, Carrie’s disposition is so sunny, so cheerful, that it’s sometimes easy to forget that book Stephen King wrote about her.

What can you say about Colleen? Not only does the cute little former Navy SEAL know fifteen different ways to kill a man without leaving a single mark, but she also isn’t adverse to using her bullwhip on artist representatives in order to acquire up-to-date routings for Stiff Little Fingers and The Samples. You may think that’s disgusting, but you should see them begging her for more.

Rounding out the team are the former KGB agents, Carol and Amber, the original toxic twins. Between the two of them, they know more about pharmacology and truth serums than anyone on the planet. During the cold war they used their talents to suppress the citizens of Poland, East Germany and Saskatchewan. Now they work for us and spend their days torturing concert promoters and artist managers for the latest dates for bands like Guns N’ Roses and Grand Theft Audio. When asked about their work, they’ll modestly shrug their shoulders and answer, “Eh, it’s a hobby.”

Say what you will about them, that they’re a sadistic, perverted bunch who take pleasure in other people’s pain. Go ahead, say that they live for that first drop of blood or that first cry of undeniable terror as they conduct their daily interrogations for the most current routings for P.J. Harvey, Sarah Jane Morris and Fairport Convention. Say what you want, they’ve heard it all.

Besides, flattery will get you nowhere.