It was an odd few days at home…no one else was there, my family was on vacation, really off the grid for the week. So we spoke once or twice a day, most of the time Dominique was detaching from the grid for a serious recharge. So, I worked. A lot. Mixing a great project from Holland, This Minor Side Effect. Taking cues from the modern edge of emo-punk, meaning concise, super tight songs, very melodic. Great material. I added things here and there, and mixed happily, usually til 2 or 3 in the morning, which not a luxury I can usually afford (I live with other humans). This meant during the morning I could catch up on a few mails, go to the bank, things I’d been putting off were put off no longer.

One afternoon I was in the bathroom, uh, tending to pertinent business, finding myself extremely annoyed that some guy was running his moped up and down the alley. I mean, really, I thought after 5 or 6 noisy small cc engine snarls. Then it dawned upon me: not a moped. Insect. Big. I snuck over to the bathroom’s exit, where I could see the kitchen window (note, the odd thing about this story is, the windows had all been shut tight since the night before, since it was cool at night already and during the day I was doing vocals so had to block street noise) and there, trying to get out, was a European hornet, what we call in French a ‘frelon’, a fierce and enormous creature whose body was the size of my thumb, wings about the length of my pinky. Oh….crap. A sting from these animals can be fatal if it’s near the throat. I moved slowly, picking up a towel and draping it in front of me as a kind of shield. I had to pass right behind it, in the small passage between the window and the fridge, the width of a door, which is very small indeed when sneaking by enormous venomous wasps. I took my time. No sudden movements. Got past him. Now, the handle to the window was hidden from his (her?) view by the small shopping bag I was using as a temp garbage bag. So I reached out, twisted it slowly, slowly drew the window open….and the creature freed itself.

Tuesday night I biked to the other side of the 11eme and went to see Bigott, his band featuring Paco & Muni Loco, i.e. the proprietors of the studio where the last Posies album was made; and Esteban Perles, who was the drummer in the performance of “Hedwig” I did in Spain a couple of years ago. Plus Joan Vich Montaner is the manager, I’ve known Joan since he was booking shows on Mallorca in the mid 90s, and Eva is his s.o., she books shows in and around El Puerto, we’ve also worked together. So, great company. The Bigott album I have is a kind of intense freak folk, minmal, dark…but this was party music. Imagine if a time warp had dropped a Mika album into 1960s Brazil, and a highly gifted hippie was given the lead role. Bigott and his scraggly beard, his tired old man eyes, and his relaxed offstage demeanor makes for a shock when you see him onstage dancing, jumping…it makes perfect sense tho.

After the show I went back home by Velib and mixed til I had tear myself away at like 2am so I could get some sleep. Out the door at 9.30, and I have to say, despite my complaints about CDG airport, those complaints being based mostly on Terminal 1, Being out at the M gates in Terminal 2E is pretty comfortable.

Arriving in Japan, the 11 hour flight was too short. Coulda slept a couple more hours. It’s always that way. Masao, from the label, met me at the airport and we took the express train in to Shibuya. Dropped my stuff at the hotel, but even on the way there a cafe caught my eye and it’s here that we parked ourselves for morning cafe. Cafe Bleu, one of 5 restaurants owned by the energetic and flawlessly self composed Hisae Iwakura. Ms. Iwakura, a former child actor, seems to have learned discipline early on and taken it to extreme form. Crisp and fresh, her latest establishment puts a focus on Japanese made products in the European tradition–charcuterie, cheese, wine…all from Japanese small producers. She also serves top quality espresso; when I had a macchiato there, it was nutty and balanced, easily coming within the quality of a top Seattle cafe. I haven’t been able to make it to her other establishments, which include restaurants/bars with Japanese or Spanish menus, but I can see that this newest place is her baby–her office is her, and she was here every day and night when I passed by for coffee or a glass of wine. She also consults for other restaurants on design and theme. Cafe Bleu would satisfy any gourmand’s standards, and yet it is by design both friendly and unintimidating, and really, by Tokyo standards, inexpensive, esp considering the quality.

After coming in a couple of times by the time the first show came around, she’d been curious enough to ask what we were up to, and ended up coming to see me play. And for the spot on the guest list, we had quite an exchange…more on that later.

First things first. We had our coffee, and then went on to lunch. A suhsi-robo type place, you know, conveyer belt of food coming by and you can request stuff too. Now, there’s a place like this next to the Paradiso in Amsterdam, that’s so so sushi and devastatingly expensive–my modest pre-show dinner with Dom & Aden was like €50. I ate like a king at this place, the food was mindblowing and I spent like €10. And I didn’t even dig as deeply as I did on my return visit.

I did my utter best to stay awake for the day, and that evening made my way out to Jad Fair’s art opening at Hiromart Gallery, his wonderful paper cuts, with Chagall-eyed horses and aliens and other images, intricately extracted in mirror image from black paper. Jad even gave us an impromptu a capella performance. Jad is ostensibly sane, in a stable relationship, apparently lucid. But, fellow Austin-ite Daniel Johnston comes to mind frequently, if just the boy’s voice that emanates from a man’s body, and maybe also for the exaggerated sense of morality as a pure landscape with large forms, like a chessboard, the black queen and white queen are known and identifiable. Jad’s more inclined to celebrate love as a giddy optimist, and there’s where their paths diverge, he & Mr. Johnston. However, you can also pick up similar themes in their freehand drawings, too…and to make matters more blurred, Norman Blake is a frequent collaborator with both artists. Much of the show Norman & Jad show was devoted to Daniel Johnston covers…so, take from that what you will.

In any case, the three of us were pie-eyed after two glasses of wine, or beer, and I was a-stumblin’ home from there when I popped in to Cafe Bleu for a glass, and Hisae suggested a glass of Japanese red wine, having me guess the cepage. It tasted like a Burgundy Pinot, but I’d been fooled like so many others–it was a merlot, exhibiting a lightness I’d never seen it do. It was as if we were on a planet whose gravitational field caused the normally burdened to cavort. I came back to life, as it were. Just long enough to enjoy. Then to bed by midnite.

TOKYO, 5/10

And woke up *fifteen* hours later. That’s a weird feeling. I looked at my phone, thinking it must have popped on to a different time zone…but it was true. I’d slept til 3 in the afternoon. A mix of jet lag and I think general exhaustion. Well. I had just enough time to shower up and head out the door to the show, which was around the corner. There was a lot to do, including a three way interview with Norman, Jad and myself. I had a digital piano, and a beautiful Gretsch duo-jet, an old one, scuffed up and very handsome.

Now, I’d missed breakfast and lunch with that sleeping stunt so I popped into the “Lawson” downstairs, this being a ubiquitous convenience store, there are also 7-Elevens a-plenty in Japan. The fun thing is, the standards for Japanese food are so high that even here you can find wholesome food even in a convenience store. The nattomaki I had were a far cry from, say, a microwaved burrito. It just doesn’t have an industrial feel to it. I would say that the sushi/maki I had from convenience stores were on the whole a step above that which you can buy at a Whole Foods in the US, in terms of freshness and quality. Natto is very hard to mess up. For starters, technically, it’s already spoilt. Fermented soybeans, caught in the act of decomposition, it’s considered healthy as it’s pure protein but softened by enzymes and easier to digest.

Just before they went on, I convinced the singer of Hot Shotz, the swing quartet that opened the evening, to do the duet with me, unrehearsed…she was horrified, but she had to agree, I put her on the spot. Of course she was doing her best reading English off a sheet…people love this, tho.

I played the middle slot, to a packed house, quickly dispensed with being onstage, or using mics, rendering the soundcheck as usual largely moot. Great response. The show went so quickly….I’m not used to this 40-60 minutes thing….it was wonderful, warm and well received…and quickly over. I enjoyed Norman and Jad’s set, the would trade off doing 4-5 numbers each, one singing and the other playing drums. They both did a lot of Daniel Johnston songs, and Norman did a few TFC numbers, and Jad did some Half Japanese songs. Jad plays a guitar that he’s decorated, that appears to be held together by a series of capos and packing tape. The strings are loose, untuned, and he bends the neck to create a warped, fuzzy monster kind of sound…that’s the best way I can describe it. The set ended when the neck of his guitar came off. I imagine that’s a fairly regular occurrence, tho it’s still a shock to see.

Now, after the show, Tatsuya from Rockbottom and I stopped by Cafe Bleu…and Hisae pulled out the stops (she was at the show, and loved it)….we ended up tasting several Japanese red wines, and Japanese cheeses in the European style. Beautiful, light and tender reds, again, they are commonly Merlot tho there are Japanese grapes as well, but they express themselves like a mature Burgundy. Some of these wines are young, but since they are generally low in alcohol–11.5-12%, we can imagine that an old Burgundy might have decayed down to 11% over the years, and take on similar characteristics. I pulled out the guitar and did a few songs over the course of the evening…epic night and, WOAH! It was almost 5 when I got home.

TOKYO, 5/11

So I slept in til 2. Tonight’s show was in a basement bar on the other side of Shibuya, called Last Waltz. Little concrete art space. I was backstage making calculations for the upcoming Big Star Third gigs, sipping tea and having some convenience store sushi! There were several artists playing: My duet partner, Satoko Shibata, who did intense acoustic guitar songs, very serious. Masahiro Naoe, who was in the band Carnation, who did jazzy songs on acoustic guitar with a serious, almost operatic voice; Sawabe from the band Skirts, who beat the crap out of his Les Paul and threw sweat everywhere, kind of an XTC herky-jerky vibe to his songs. Then they started to come back during the set; Satoko did the duet, beautifully; Naoe and I did a version of “Thirteen”, then everyone was onstage, including Sawabe on drums, for a version of “September Gurls”. For my part, I had a Yamaha grand piano, so I stayed there, mostly, even re-arranging the chairs so people could be close at hand. I played so hard I bashed my head on the piano in mid song. Really into it!

TOKYO, 5/12

Crossed town on the train, to new digs, in Ogikubo. Venue around the corner. Tiniest little place you’ll see. It dawned upon me that Japan, with its smoke-friendly atmosphere, obsession with power pop, all nighters, and so on…is more Spain than Spain. It’s like what Spain was a few years ago, including cheap. I know Tokyo is one of the most expensive cities in the world, but, like London, you spend your money on your little shoebox flat; your reward is that food can be had for almost nothing. And unlike Britain…in Japan, it’s almost always good and healthy.

WHICH reminds me, Tatsuya and I returned for lunch to the same sushi-conveyor joint I went on my arrival day, and this time I pulled out the stops. Raw horse sushi. Whelks, sweet and tender. Squid ovaries. “Uni Supreme”. A tennis-ball sized whelk whose Christmas tree-green guts were removed and presented outside the shell, and whose orange flesh was a crunchy counterpoint. Mindblowing!

The show was opened by Beat Caravan, who I missed. I was having dinner and resting at the hotel, dinner being some strange vegetables, there was an organic grocery across the street and I just bought things that looked interesting, not knowing what they were. There was a pickled something or other that lived in a bright yellow sauce that turned out to….ahhHH! super hot mustard.

I got to the show in time to see the Zoobombs, who play a revved up scuzz garage/gospel mix, always brilliant (and singer Don sporting his Posies shirt). Rockbottom pumped up solid pub rock, modernized to some degree. Then I set up my piano on the club’s floor and busted out my set, and stayed there while onstage Rockbottom backed me for three Posies songs…they did an excellent job, really impressed Tatsuya learned the “Solar Sister” solo. We followed this with The Zoobombs backing me for a deranged, supercharged version of “Yours for the Taking”, and finally, Rockbottom returned to the stage for a version of “Shake Some Action”, I was surprised by how many words I actually did know…my voice was destroyed but I stayed for the after party and started adding rum to my iced tea, and was still in bed by midnite.

Here started a run of show attendances by one Tom, whom I know from my shows in Singapore, who’s a fan of Big Star, the Posies, and even me. He brought his family for a vacation in Japan and also they attended the shows–himself, his wife Jen, and their adorable daughter Gillian, who in the quieter shows where she could be close to the stage, would simply make comments. “Ken……what’s your favorite color?”. Hilarious.

Great duet from Etsuko from the band The Pebbles

Despite having to change hotels on Monday morning, I wasn’t in too bad of shape. I pretty much parked myself all day in a fast food restaurant that seemed to be the only wifi around, caught up on the flood of Big Star Third related emails. Finally at about 7.30 I figured I should eat, took some sushi and a beer next door, then went back to the hotel for a hot bath, and was in bed shortly after nine.

TOKYO, 5/14

I got up around 7 and was brave enough to navigate the various types of train– regional rail, metro, etc–to get to Tsukiji fish market. The place tolerates tourists, as long as they come after the bulk of the sales are done, starting at 9am. You can book yourself one of 160 spots for the tuna auction at 5, but…honestly, let’s stay sane here. I would have been there pretty close to nine had I not spent about 30 minutes trying to figure out where to go inside the miles of sprawl within Shinjuku station. Even a small metro or train station in Tokyo is a maze of shops and passageways…while in Ginza metro I tried to find “Sukiyabashi Jiro” of “Jiro Dreams of Sushi” fame….impossible.

Once at the market, I just wandered down endless rows of odd creatures…football-sized mussels, buckets of writhing small eels…there were a couple of long, saw-nosed creatures that I’d never seen before, more for the lab than the kitchen. Overwhelming. Tuna carcasses like sides of beef, maybe bigger in some cases. Guys manipulating man-sized blocks of ice. I hadn’t eaten breakfast, so first I stopped in for an ice coffee and some wifi to get my head on straight. There were lines out the door for some of the sushi restaurants inside the market, one had a special roped off area to accommodate an even longer line. I went in to a place with no line (remember folks, this is just ten a.m., too) and had excellent sashimi. Then…I had to find my way out. Uh oh. It was a miracle that I did. The building is mostly square, and the same everywhere inside, but there is a curving covered main promenade for forklifts, but that curve at that point, could have been leading me to either end of it. Luckily, I guessed correctly, and was back in the fast food joint wifi-ing up soon after.

One good thing in the neighborhood is an old time-y soba restaurant, I had lunch there with Kohei, drummer of Rockbottom, and his wife, on Monday. Cold soba noodles are really one of the best antidotes for sticky and slimy weather. Tuesday I had an interview, with Masao as the interviewer, and he wrangled up a delicious bowl of natto-soba, cold. That hit me where I live.

We cabbed over to the club in the early evening. “Poor Cow”, owned by Fifi from Teengenerate, tiny bar stuffed up in a teetering little building. Things were a little rickety at first, the keyboard was just a synth in danger of imploding at any second, we managed to replace it with some calls. Little tiny amp. No need for the PA, really. I did the best I could to set up and headed down to the Chinese place on the ground floor of the same building. Menus was in Chinese & Japanese, and, occasionally, photos, which is what I ordered from. Spicy eggplant with bits of ground meat; some cold pickled vegetables swimming in a red spicy sauce; a brick of tofu with 1,000-year-old eggs as a garnish. Well, that seemed to be pretty good fuel–what followed was a more typical, nearly two-hour show. Basically a living room vibe at the Poor Cow, No need for a PA really. Hey Takahashi who played before me, is truly a nut case. Armed with a sampler that produced various abbatoir-derived synth sounds, and pounding his poor guitar within an inch of its life, he howled out covers and originals…repeating the original versions’ repeats to comic effect, for example, his version of “Trans-Europe Express” featured an exact copy of the original’s every utterance of the title. And then there was “Alabama Song”. Totally deranged. The guy looks like a schoolboy, conservative except for the blazer he was wearing, which was basically a Hawaiian shirt pattern. OK.

Tough act to follow, but I brought a sense of calm to the proceedings, and just…played. Covers, too, became part of the spontaneous joy of the evening. I was surprised that I remembered “I’d Rather You Leave Me”, the absolute gem of a nugget by the Choir, that was covered on the 1998 album by Chariot. My duet tonite was with Tomoko, bass player of SuperSnazz, the all girl rock band that charmed Seattle so well in the 90s. I hadn’t seen her in a few years, wonderful to reconnect this way.

TOKYO, 5/15

I was invited by Hisae for lunch at Cafe Bleu. This meant a little more train navigation, which I managed. On the way to the train, I took a small assortment of sushimaki and sat on a bench in the sun outside the train station, knowing I would get to Cafe Bleu well before lunch, all the better to use their wifi, since my hotel was barren of it. Now, an interesting dilemma follows–what to do with the empty container after eating my improvised breakfast? Not a bin in sight. Nothing in the station. Not even in the bathrooms (there’s no soap provided and nothing to dry your hands with either). I searched high and low, and soon reconciled myself to the fact I would be spending the better part of the day with this empty plastic food container. I packed it in to my bag. Now, Cafe Bleu, being basically next door to my former hotel in Shibuya, is a good 15 minute walk from the Shibuya train station, but thankfully there’s the Keio line, which has a little tiny station called Shinsen right around the corner from my destination.

And just outside the station, a Lawson convenience store. Now, the reason no bins are provided in public places is that they are considered a tempting place for potential terrorists to plant a bomb; this is also why, as a holdover from the Troubles, you don’t see them in Britain, either. Not sure who is planting bombs in Japan these days, but I guess they imagine the situation could worsen for some reason — and Japan’s lack of bins stands in an inversely useful state of readiness for such an event, er, preventing said event from taking place. So, the bins are like a kind of butterfly effect in reverse, the future non-event determining…er, have a headache now.

In any case, the good employees of Lawson are not there just to serve you prepackaged coffee capsules. They are there to potentially take a bomb in the face, and they bravely provide bins out of a sense of civic duty.

Got to the cafe, and asked to have a cafe. “No, lunch only. Sorry.”. “I have an appointment with Hisae”. “She is not here today. Sorry”. “Uh….OK, lunch please. AND a cafe!”. Then Hisae arrived, and suddenly things were quite different–everybody got it. We had a delightful lunch. They have a simple set menu with pasta, or a hamburger. What they do with it is elegant and refined. I had risotto, with a medallion of lamb on top, 3 slices of pumpkin, two slices of daikon, a sprinkling of tiny chives and a hint of cheese. The flavors were rich, and subtle, I wasn’t expecting a risotto to work so hard to please me…

afterwards, I made my way to Shimokitazawa. On this visit I had much more time to explore the neighborhood, which is one of the most exciting and at the same time charming shopping and lifestyle neighborhoods I’ve seen in the city. In fact, I would compare Shimokitazawa with my own neighborhood in Paris; it’s not the first place listed in the tourist guides, but, in a way, it should be. The number of cool shops and restaurants is uncountable. Not only is Japan’s most venerable record store, Disk Union, there–which has unbelievable vintage vinyl, used and new CDs and DVDs, etc; but perhaps the most intense destination shopping experience is Village Vanguard, we can call it a gift shop, but that would fall short. It’s a lot of everything, stuffed into a retail experience. Toys, books, stationery, household items…sections devoted to merchandise related to classic Japanese animated films–an “Akira” section, a Studio Ghibli section…this was the ultimate place for me to search for small items, both frivolous (puffy stickers that had water in them so there tiny plankton-like things floating in the images) and practical (a gorgeous set of pastels; no one does art supplies like Japan), for Aden.

I also stopped for a cafe, we had what I presume to be a very expensive iced cafe, then I was ready. Now, meantime, when I arrived at the venue that afternoon, I was told my duet partner, the singer from Hot Shotz who sang w me impromptu the week before, was not coming. My other duet partners from the other Tokyo shows were not available. Uh oh…Then Ayu Tokio showed up. Ayu is a boyish figure, but he’s a formidable luthier, songwriter, and boy did he and his gal Max save the day. She was totally afraid to be put on the spot, to learn a song in English, no less, but we gave her lyrics, a link to listen to the song, and she had the afternoon to go over it. She agreed if Ayu could join on guitar. When I came back from my shopping/dining excursion, we ran thru the song backstage and she’d done an impressive job learning the song. Then they did their set. Ayu’s band has him on guitar–a lovely vintage Yamaha that he rescued from the dead; Max on keys and backing vocals; a bass player; a superb, jazzy drummer who also does backing vocals; viola, violin and flute. Ayu writes all the arrangements. The songs are ambitious, as you can imagine. A little Zombies, but with the trademark major-chord tendencies of Japanese guitar pop.

I set up during the DJ set that followed, and started my set, bringing in the audience, the performance space was separated from the rest of the club by either a total wall or a partial wall, and the trick is to get everyone inside. Done. With the piano moved to the floor in front of the stage, I did a mic-less performance. For the end, Ayu and Max joined me for “Doesn’t It Remind You of Something”, he & i trading off licks and smiles. Lovely. Again, I was just getting warmed up by the time it was over, no one expects me to play more than an hour…too easy.

After the show I cabbed to the hotel, and realized it was a little early for bed, so I crossed the walkway to the far side of the street, and standing at a counter by the coffee machine, grabbed wifi til 3am, booking flights for all the Big Star Third musicians who still needed it.

NAGOYA, 5/16

Masao met me that morning at ten. Where my hotel these nights was was on a quite main street, with an elevated roadway on top of the surface street–the effect is that the roadway is quite intimidating, and gives the businesses on that street the feeling of being under an overpass, so not so cozy. The result is that the street is pretty quiet but not without businesses. For example, next to the hotel was a country & western bar…man, I *really* wanted to go in there, but it closed at ten p.m., so never open when I was around. Since the street was not revitalizing, there were some older businesses there, such as the excellent soba restaurant where I lunched twice. And, a sweet shop. Basically, a little glass display and behind that you could peer into a tiny kitchen where a granny made various sweet bean cakes, and kanpiyo maki. “Dried gourd shavings” is now it translates. I would call the fruit more of a melon, well, somewhere between melon and squash. LIke peeling an orange so the peel is one piece in a long spiral, the fruit is shaved into strips, and hung out to dry like laundry, hanging over a line. This is sweetened, and the result is something like quince paste. This is put into maki, for example, and the final product is a delightful variation of the salt-sweet combo, the tangy nori, dry and crisp, versus the interior of the maki, sticky and rich.

This tided me over til we got to the Shinkansen, I was so looking forward to my bento lunch, and it was fun to select it and attack it as soon as we were under way. The sheer variety of colors and shapes is a delight in itself, and the flavors…from sour pickled vegetables to an entire tiny octopus…it was entertainment package, not just a meal. It was big too. Thus…my late night of work, the almost undetectable momentum of the bullet train, the sun thru the window, full stomach…yep…zzzzz.

Once in Nagoya we took a local train which had a stop right across from the hotel, pretty nice place. After some chill time we cabbed over to the venue, which wasn’t really necessary but it was kind of welcome. Tokuzo is mostly a jazz/R&B club–it’s hosted Mavis Staples, Clarence ‘Gatemouth’ Brown, etc. Beautiful wooden interior, and the back of the stage is a diffusor, made of roughly 6″ x 6″ blocks of varying depth, like we have in recording studios (tho the blocks are usually much smaller there). So, a great natural sound. The piano tuner had just finished tuning the upright. Jad & Norman were there, and the Tenniscoats, a wonderful duo with vocalist Saya, who was also my duet partner, singing and playing keys and percussion, and guitarist Takashi, who plays a nylon string, just holding it against is standing body, no strap.

By the time soundcheck was done, I had just an hour, Masao and I grabbed some gyoza, Chinese dumplings, and yakisoba (you might call it chow mein, if you were from my grandpa’s generation. Though my grandpa, who was from San Francisco, said — ‘never eat a Chinese restaurant that advertises Chow Mein, it’s not authentic!’). Came back and soon I was on, I was the opener tonite. Still, the place was full already and I have to say, there’s nothing quieter than a Japanese audience at a folk/art concert. Perfect conditions for me to do my thing. I spent a lot of time at the piano, tho, playing a lovely rendition of “You’re A Sign”. Saya and I did the duet in the middle of the club, she already barefoot which is how she likes to perform. She sang her part mezzosoprano, as opposed to the alto of the original, which was spooky and beautiful, like having a spirit possessing her.

For the rest of the night I could enjoy watching the Tenniscoats set, where Jad and Norman made vocal contributions, sometimes in Japanese; and Jad & Norman’s set. I had confirmed my suspicion that Jad’s guitar is set to collapse into pieces every night; but he added that until Tokyo he merely velcroed the neck onto the body–now he had a system of rubber bands that gave him something like a whammy bar effect, bending the entire neck tho. Still, it falls apart on cue at the end of the show.

After the show, the obligatory cheers but this time, food was served. Oh no! A second dinner. And I couldn’t resist, nor could I resist the 4 glasses of wine served me. It was great to catch up with Norman and other friends, tho. To sober up ever so slightly, I walked back to the hotel, pleasant night as it was.

OSAKA, 5/17

The morning was kind. We were not in a hurry, had a green tea cake and iced coffee in the hotel, then we took the metro to the main station, and then a regional, non bullet train straight to Namba station in Osaka, right next door to the club. Another bento, no nap tho. Straight on in and soon Shonen Knife was setting up. I have to say, to have a band as legendary as Shonen Knife come in and set up so they can OPEN for you is surreal. That’s how they roll, tho. Generous and they sure love the Posies (recall that for the band’s 20th anniversary, they invited us to Japan to open for them).

While we were in the hotel lobby coffee shop in Nagoya, someone’s ringtone was a few seconds of “Jupiter” from Holst. *Not* the few seconds that I poached for the mandolin solo in “Any Love” but a different melody, but I recognized it instantly. No slouch, and a Tower Records employee and music journalist for many years, Masao also called it.

Soundchecks and rehearsals were done, and then on to the hotel to check in, and after working for a couple of hours, the bento had already worn off and it was time for dinner. I walked back to the club and Masao had gotten the skinny from Shonen Knife about where to get the ultimate okonomiyaki, the Osaka specialty. It’s called a pancake, you could also call it an omelet. I don’t care what you call it. The place we went is legendary for it, and it’s cooked right before your eyes, Benihana-style. What I love is that after this pile of egg, octopus, and…not sure what else is cooked into patty, it’s flipped over onto…another frying egg. And the yakisoba we had — noodles onto the griddle with a scoop of lard, egg added later. Now. People. Explain to me: a country where 90% of every meal are carbs (rice), where almost everyone smokes and smoking is permitted everywhere (my eyes are still stinging from the smoky clubs, and it will take days to wash the smell out of my hair), and where cholesterol is A-OK (a lot of egg is eaten, tho hardly any cheese)…and every one lives to be 90. Come on, motherfuckers…EXPLAIN ME! I guess that rice is something that you don’t have to eat a lot of to feel full, so despite the fact that your meal is carb heavy, the meal is not meal heavy. And the high amount of fish omega 3′s do some magic on the cholesterol buildup. And, the fermented food…this is the magic component. Guess how much fermented food is around? Uh, *soy sauce*, anyone? Not just natto, but that helps. Read the recent NY Times article on this fermented food expert and his views on the relation of fermented foods and general health.

Well, I was certainly satisfied by the meal. And Japan has helped me discover a great secret–before and during the show I drink only tea–various kinds of iced tea are the most common soft drink in Japan. So, I can switch to wine, or, if they don’t have it, whiskey, after the show, and never get that far down the whiskey river before it’s time to go. Genius.

So, back to the show. The first band, Boys Order, fronted by pink-haired bassist Chihiro, was doing their punked up set. Rockbottom played an arena-worthy set. Then Shonen Knife took to the stage. They are consummate performers, no detail–walk on music, choreographed headbanging–left undeveloped. The sound is huge, they look like a million bucks. I love watching Emi, the drummer, play, bouncing in her chair to the beat, and giving big open mouthed look of surprise before a particularly strong accent. In fact, the joy of seeing this band, even tho I’ve seen them several times over the years, thru different lineups, was such that I was standing there in the crowd with my mouth open for the first ten minutes. Oh, but I had work to do! So, I went backstage and got my jacket off, and got ready to head to the stage as called. I learned on guitar two songs from their latest album, which they play back to back as an almost medley–the title track, “Pop Tune” and a pean to their hometown, “Osaka Rock City”. I sang the third verse of the latter, and harmonies throughout. It was an astonishing honor to be asked to play with them, something I don’t think they do often, and even if they do…as I said to the audience, this was a seriously prime example of “smoking dope with the pope”.

My set was incredibly well received, me just banging it out on the floor like I do. Naoko, Shonen Knife’s singer, joined me for the duet, un mic’d as is my style. She had hidden the lyrics in a children’s book, so sweet. Next verse….turn the page. Towards the end of the song, while we were still down in the audience, Emi and Ritsuko snuck onstage, and started to play along. This segued into the end of the set, where the band backed me on “110 or 220V” and “You’re the Gold”. The versions were fast, and…happy. The wistful longing of 110 sounded much more celebratory, and it certainly has the right to. I was just high as a kite when we were finished.

Encore #1: Rockbottom backed me for the trio of Posies songs we played earlier in the week in Tokyo. I went back down with my mic into the pit, and couldn’t help but scream the end of “Ontario”.

Encore #2: Duet with me and Rockbottom on “Shake Some Action”, with Shonen Knife, and Chihiro doing various backing vocals. Me, shaking my action, like a total idiot. Glorious.

Encore #3: on Ina’s Les Paul, I did “Life is Right”, “Moon River”…honestly, I could have gone on and on, the audience was so into it…but I had to save some of my voice for the next show, I knew I had an early morning.

SEOUL, 5/18

Up at 5.30, and at 6.30 Masao and Kohei were at the hotel to meet me, and Kohei actually brought me a nattomaki and a spicy tuna one, so kind. We walked to the Namba station and got the airport bus to Kansai, I changed my yen to Euros and we had time for a quick coffee, and then….off to the flight. Korean Air’s fleet is sparkling and new, I got some sleep and then we landed in Incheon. Holy smokes…that is a serious showcase for the country, it’s spanking new international airport…shimmering, high tech…busy with the business of travel but not bustling or chaotic. And efficient, I was out the door pretty quicklike. Credit to Osaka Kansai as well for being really quick with security and other formalities. Spend some time at airports overseas–Osaka, Kuala Lumpur, and Seoul are great examples. Singapore….Shanghai…and then you’ll be scratching your head at the pockmarked airports of the USA. Crowded, dirty, structurally questionable (JFK, anyone?), these are bus terminals with runways. Seoul Incheon is practically a destination in itself….it feels like a 5 star hotel.

Outside I was met by Steve and Heekyung, my hosts for the weekend. They drove me into Seoul. Seoul is pretty difficult to get a grip on, geographically. It’s more a substance than topography–it’s more or less postwar architecture poured into every valley, amongst a knot of small mountains. The mountains, more like tall pointy hills, are surprisingly green. Below them, a sea of concrete. Very little of Seoul’s history is represented–the Korean War, during which Seoul was won or lost by the two sides several times, leveled the city. I wonder, in fact, if the Royal Palaces are in fact complete reconstructions. One thing that was never rebuilt–the monarchy. The Japanese arrived in 1910 and summarily executed, exiled or otherwise sidelined and effectively ended the Korean monarchy. Japan’s treatment of Korea during its nearly 40 years of occupation is noted by its brutality; Korea was merely a place from which to strip trees and other resources…everything, including local women, was a resource to be requisitioned without payment, without permission, without pity. Japan had an empire to build.

The city, which in recent years has exploded to become the developed world’s largets metropolis (25 million souls and counting) was rebuilt after the war years. So, it’s a fairly unflattering sprawl of endless tower blocks, and a few pleasantly winding neighborhoods of modest shops and restaurants. The club was nestled in one of the most lively and trendy ones, Hongdae. Here the small business, bundled on top of one another in a delightful display of freedom of consumer choice, displayed uh….wanton…uh…disregard for the homogeneity of residential architecture as expressed locally. There were many kinds of modern structures, some wooden things doing their best to look a little old, many kinds of concrete fantasies. We came to the club, Sally’s Guitar, to hang a few banners about. There’s a real Sally, who’s in the place every night, herself a guitarist and singer. She owns the place and doesn’t exactly push every angle to get the place known. Some bands come and play blues, funk, R&B…a few people come in and drink beer or whiskey. She’s happy. The fact that I arrived, brought in 30-40 people, was probably a week’s worth of business. Whatever tax write off she gets on this place normally, I royally fucked that up. But she agreed to have me play, and she gets points for that. She even bought a CD at the end of the night.

After our poster hanging session, we went next door and had nyangmaeon, which is a traditional form of cuisine from the Northern side of Korea, which in the days before the Communist partition, was considered the more posh, educated, elite half of the country. They like their noodles cold, noodles a bit like soba, more al dente, swimming in clear broth, with a few goodies to round it out, and of course some chili to mix in. Wonderful and refreshing.

Then back to Steve and Heekyung’s apartment, on the 17th floor of a very typical tower block, in a mellow University area. Steve teaches law here. Heekyung is corporate counsel for a bank; they met when they were in law school in St. Louis. I met Steve when he decided to bop into my show in Cincinnati in February; he was home visiting his mom. Steve is the kind of guy to strike up a conversation with strangers–he has a thirst for travel and new languages (lived in Russia, is learning Arabic at the moment) and music and new friends. It wasn’t long before he’d secured my accommodations for after the show, and not long after that that we were talking about having me play in Seoul. They were wonderful hosts, housing me in their spare room, and putting tremendous energy into making the show happen. I’m most grateful.

Returning to the show, I set up and rehearsed with ‘Amy’, singer of Pegasus, my support act. Pegasus is a kind of University glee club, in that it’s an organization via the university where Steve teaches (whose mascot is in fact, Pegasus). In fact, students who graduate have to leave the band and make room for freshmen. This lineup played covers, some of which I recognized, notably the Arctic Monkeys. Amy, the singer, also agreed to do the duet, really on the spot (we were holding out to see if Sally would do it, but she rather dodged the subject). Now, here at the club, I also was reunited with Lex, a dear friend for a quarter of a century. I’ve known her since she was a teenage supporter of the Posies starting in our earliest days, saw her mature into adulthood, passing thru as the singer of a band in the ‘East Side’ suburbs of Seattle, and been in touch as she’s been living abroad, in Korea & Australia. She’s a bright, helpful, good soul. I hadn’t seen her in some time, and it was surreal to finally meet up again in Seoul. Steve, she & I went to catch some food, in this case a smorgasbord of organ meat, and a stew with a kind of fish sausage in it. She had some things to show me in the neighborhood, so we went to ArtBox, a store which has gift items and stationery (more treats for Aden). Then, back to the show. Pegasus took the stage, shy but giving it their all, loved that the guitarists shared a can of grape soda for their onstage beverage. The place actually filled up, and I can say that the vibe was totally unusual. There were times when I wondered if I was connecting at all, except with Steve, Lex, Heekyung and Pegasus, there was a lot of poker face in the room. There was a table with some Western faces, an American, and a Canadian, and I didn’t catch where the other bloke was from, they were a bit drunk so sometimes they were chatty, which sort of threw me off a little, I was already feeling very self conscious with the extreme out of context situation. My voice wasn’t as strong, either, after the screaming I did the night before coupled with the early morning. But, I carried on, hoping for the best in terms of impact. In fact, everybody loved the show, but they way they would show that during the performance was too much of a cipher for me to get it…it’s good to be out on a limb, tho. After I did what I felt was a decent set, I brought up Amy, whose sensitivity and dedication to getting the song right was so admirable, it was a beautiful moment.

For an encore, I had heard from Steve that Sally was something of a Neil Young fan…getting her onstage was like pulling teeth, but she pulled out an acoustic and gamely did her best to come along with me on “Tell Me Why”…then she scurried off…I did one more Neil tune, then ‘Thirteen’, then closed it with ‘Solar Sister’ and called it a night. I received so many compliments, people really had loved it.

Then, another band set up…started playing funk. Time to go drink! We went to a place directly above the noodle place where we had lunch, itself being more or less next door to Sally’s. Here we had jeon a kind of crispy pancake, and lots of makkoli, which was love at first sip for me. Makkoli is a rice wine, seemed to come in plastic bottles, generally, you have to tumble it a bit to get the separated parts to mix–there’s a watery, clear portion which on its own would probably be very similar to sake, and there’s a milky, creamy portion. It’s a complex and extremely refreshing blend of sensations–the coolness of the creamy part, and its blandness muting the fire of the more fortified part. There’s a sourness, a crisp note of green apple, a faint hint of straw, and the almost sweet sensation lurking in the creamy portion. Served in metal bowls, it’s the drink of choice for Korean hikers coming off a hot mountain trail. The sweet/sour/warming/cooling aspects never dominate, like the snake eating its own tail it goes around and around…well, you can drink a lot of it. They say it has quite a kick to it, but I imagined it to be like 20% alcohol, akin to sherry, perhaps. It was delightful and I made sure to drink a lot of it! We didn’t get back to the apartment until 3.30am.

The next day was a slow start, of course…delicious for the fact that I didn’t have to travel or perform. We got in the car, grabbed some coffee, and headed for Imjingak, aka the region of the DMZ. The DMZ is a major tourist attraction…the threat of mass destruction being several orders of scary above a rollercoaster (tho, at the park where you uh, park, before being bused to the DMZ’s edge itself, there are carnival rides). It’s about an hour or so drive north from Seoul, and Steve’s place is already on the northern edge, handy. Um, we forgot to bring our passports, and Heekyung actually figured it out just shortly after leaving. Got those…on our way. Parked in the nearly full parking lot at the main welcome center, bought out tickets, found we had 30 minutes to kill, so, lunch. Beautiful day. I led the charge, ordered, paid…mokkoli, of course! And then some new delights — acorn jelly–a brown almost custard like concoction served in cold slices on spicy vegetables; and a spicy pile of pig intestines, kimchee, vegetables. So good. We wolfed it down, got to the bus, me drinking the res of my mokkoli straight from the bottle. Can’t let *that* go to waste and it’s fizzy enough that leaving it in the car would be a bad idea. So, I was pleasantly buzzed for the attractions. First stop: a tunnel that was discovered in the 1970s, used for moving spies and assassination teams into South Korea from the north. It was blocked and shut down, and now a large tunnel has been bored down so you can walk down into the original tunnel…itself a damp tunnel where standing up is impossible, and thank god for the hard hats issued…I banged my head on the roof of the tunnel a couple of times.

Second stop is the one you want, a large observation deck where you can peer over the no man’s land that separates the two halves of Korea. With binoculars, you can see over to the towns and villages on the other side, with gorgeous mountains behind them. It’s known that these towns visible from South Korea should be an ad for the worker’s paradise that North Korea would like you believe exists over the border…were there actual people there, it might be a better ad. I saw maybe two people walking along lonely roads on the other side, scanning from village to village. No cars, not even parked ones. It’s known that one village is a total stunt–someone comes on and turns on and off lights in houses to give the impression its inhabited. It is not.

The DMZ itself, uninhabited for 60 years, brims with wildlife. 2 miles wide and spanning the width of Korea, it’s a greenbelt…almost peaceful.

South Korea has mandatory service. The members of Pegasus, at least the boys, will probably be patrolling this area next year.

After that there’s some weird stuff–a huge, gleaming train station that is the first stop on a proposed northward line, ready for reunification. A train to nowhere, but there it is, the station just built a few years ago. The obligatory gift shop stop. There’s North Korean products, and also products from the local villagers, who were relocated and consolidated, and farm under guard…so a North Korean can’t just show up and blend in and then move on.

That night Steve and I dined on bulgogi, self cooking thin strips of beef on what looks like an iron hubcap. I had beef rib soup, too, tender and simple. Afterwards we had wine and cheese, Heekyung came back from stopping by and checking in with her folks, and Steve busted out the guitars–but Steve’s a lefty. I managed to navigate pretty well playing left handed. In a way, it’s my natural tendency. Forced to write right handed in school, my body is a perpetual case of divided loyalties. I’m a left handed thrower, tennis player…I play guitar right handed because a book said that was the way…I’d spent a couple of days turning the guitar this way and that way, it was all the same to me. I’ve (barely) learned drums right handed, since kits are always set up that way, but guess what…I *air* drum lefty. Argh.

This morning we were all up at 7, we walked out the door together as Steve and Heekyung were off to work, they flagged a cab for me right out in front of their building. The cab wormed its way thru commuter traffic to a certain Holiday Inn where an airport bus can be caught. I had 20 minutes to kill so I had a coffee and a delicious pastry, looking like a bagel but the ring was filled with sweet bean paste. Then snoozed for the 90 minute ride to Incheon airport. I grabbed a lunch in the airport of fresh spicy stew with kimchee, tuna flakes and tofu. Changed my pile of Won (there’s a 1000 to the dollar, so you need to have a serious pimp roll just to get around town). Boarded the 747 and now we’re over the Baltic, I’ll be home in a few hours.

Love
KS
KE flt 901

Addendum: No wifi at home and no time to go look for it meant that this blog stayed on my iPad this week. I have been working on mixes this week for “This Minor Side Effect”, a Dutch project with its feet in the punk and the pop songs worlds both, and for Victory Lap from Seattle; I first started working on the Victory Lap songs a year ago, been picking away at it here and there, and actually, it should be done next week. I had my nose to the grindstone this week, taking a little break for a dinner out with the girls, but generally, early to bed, early to rise, it’s all about getting Aden to school. My cell phone has gone on the Fritz so any social coordination not done thru Facebook is impossible. No time to go fix it. I’m on m way to Vienna and hope to zip this out when I arrive to the hotel this morning.

Love
KS
shuttle to CDG

BREDA, 4/22

Up at something like 5, and was picked up by Maan in front of the Rijksmuseum at 6.15, and we went on to pick up Carice and drive out to Hilversum, where Holland’s media resides. We were there as guests yet again of Giel, one of the most powerful DJs and tastemakers in the country, doing a live session where we did two songs from the album and a cover of “Alive” by Empire of the Sun, then just released. We couldn’t get reliable lyrics on line, but Carice had it, but there’s a kind of chant in each verse so JB and I worked it out as “EAT MORE DEAD CATS” check out all three songs online! It went extremely well. Then JB & I drove down to Breda and I took a nap in the backstage of the Mezz, the bulbous, copper culture-thingy where I played on my tour last year and where we rehearsed with Carice last year. We had the afternoon to do a lengthy soundcheck and prepare for the first show of our short run. The way the main room of this venue is laid out is brilliant–onstage you’re looking into the eyes of the audience, everyone in the house seems to have a great sightline. Despite all the new material we’d taken on in that weekend’s rehearsals, and the fact that Carice is still learning the ropes in many ways, it was a brilliant show. Carice’s voice is pure beyond description, lines terminating in perfect vibrato. Were the reviews of Amsterdam good? Of course not–Carice is too popular to be liked by the press. I am one hundred percent certain the reviews were written before the show even started. It’s like that, folks. I haven’t seen her warrant criticism in any way. She rose to the challenge and nailed it. And the band…well, folks…that’s a hell of a band, JB, Joost, Maan and me.

GRONINGEN, 4/23

The venue a little bigger, and somehow a Tuesday night is even more of question mark than a Monday (Breda had a full house) but this was a great show too. Hmmm….too easy. Careful. Should mention that James, our lighting tech, is really, really good. Living in Holland for years now, he hails from New Zealand originally, and we had much to discuss about bands from the heyday, which I stumbled upon just out of high school via the Tuatara compilation that my summer job boss, of all people, had brought back from an Antipodean adventure. Hey, the show was great, OK? If you want to know a little more, I switch, often in the same song, and sometimes with the keys doubling up, Wakeman-style, between the following instruments: A Nord Stage that JB & I have programmed with a variety of splits and other programs to emulate the album and add texture to the covers we do; a Roland XP-60 which I use for its Mellotron sounds on several songs. A Cort 12 string acoustic. And a green Airliner guitar that I play thru a multi-distortion pedal and a Boss analog delay thru a modified Fender Blues Junior amp, controlling feedback swells in the song “Heart of Oak” with a volume pedal. And I do backing vox, including some seriously high ooooo’s in “Something Funny”. There you go. Lot’s to do.

AMSTERDAM, 4/24

The big one. On the way back from Groningen after the show, Carice suggested we add a beautiful song, “Over Our Head” by Jon Brion, a song so gorgeous and of-the-spheres musical, it woke me up from my nap in the back seat. OK, that’s a piano tune. Got up and started rehearsing and then JB suggested we transpose it up to C. Luckily I had a piano where I was staying. So even tho I needed some sleep to be fresh for the day, after getting home at 1.30, and even tho get in at the Paradiso is 2.30, I managed to fit that, and lunch, and getting ready, and organizing my notes, etc. I was on time, and in fact when I arrived my stuff was well set up by our stage tech, Pattu, so, hey, more time to listen to Jon Brion and organize myself. Soundcheck was long isn, but I was already feeling the hair stand up on my neck from nerves….this was different than the last two nights, I felt like we owned those venues…but this was a sold out Paradiso, a whole ‘nuther thing. We went out for sushi, and I was judicious with my sake, and less so with espresso. I should have erred on the side of cutting the nerves. Meanwhile, backstage, I was still working out fingerings for the Jon Brion tune, on the horrifically out of tune piano backstage. Hard to tell what key you’re in or even near on that thing.

Showtime. It wasn’t long before I regretted ever so slightly the wool pinstripe suits we’d been given to wear for the shows. I was way too sober to face this, and I was feeling the pressure and the excitement, we all were. Maybe me more so…I have more places to be in a way, with all the instrument and program jumping .There’s a jazz song on the album written by Mark Ribot, “End of the World” that’s lovely, we arranged it live, at my suggestion, as less of 1950s jazz standard than a jazz-inspired bit of Lynch-ian menace, and made it much shorter. Really good call, but challenging.

Song #2, just before the first vocal, Carice’s cable fell out of her mic and landed with an impotent lack of flair on the ground. We had to stop the tune, and to break the ice I took the risk to unplug my acoustic and re-set the strap…w/o pushing my tuner to cut the signal. Made a big pop in the PA, but it took the heat off Carice. Meanwhile, I was painfully aware all night of every eyeball in the house, all 4000 of them, and in my suit I was sweating like a leaky tap. My suit and shirt was soaked afterwards. I never really settled in and truly felt at home on the stage, I felt like I was riding the lightning the whole time, compared to the previous nights which were so relaxed and calm. I play better calm–here I was too nervous about being precise to have much fun with it, I was so stiff in my improvisations, w clunky, rude hands. And all thru the show I was thinking about that Jon Brion piano tune, which is not so complex but it hadn’t had time to sink in…I was so focused on that I didn’t even notice the audience or their applause or why we were doing two encores. The good news is that Carice’s audience should give no reason for being nervous, they are excited to see her, and very much behind her all the way. Well, we did it. Even the Jon Brion song had only one momentary stumble but I didn’t hit any bad notes, just had to simplify the rhythm at one point.

OMG. After the show…wow. I was so relieved. Carice was really happy, jumping for joy, as opposed to the previous nights she was more concerned with parts of her performance she felt needed improvement. Yes, wijntje please!

I will say that I was impressed with Carice’s audience. You know how if you go to, say, a Motorhead concert, everyone looks like Lemmy. Cure fans look like the Cure, and so on. Carice’s audience was marvelously diverse. Young, old, hip, square, and far more cosmopolitan than the average indie show. I saw a teenage girl singing along with every word. I saw a woman in Middle Eastern garb up in the first row of the balcony having a great time. They looked, much more than any audience I’ve played to here, like Holland.

The next morning I slept straight thru my alarm and woke up at 7.10, with a train at 7.59 to catch. I packed in a hurry, and opened up my iPad to use the new taxi booking app. Which would not accept my phone number in the field for love nor money, I tried typing it a thousand different ways. Shit. So…run, with my huge suitcase, guitar, backpack. Got the tram at like 7.40. 7.55 at the station. Made it. Now, once on board, I saw this train, despite what the sign on the platform said (destination: Vlissingen, my destination), this train seemed to be bound for Roosendaal. Looking online showed I was surely on the right train. So…as we approached Roosendaal, I looked for someone to ask. I was in first class, so…empty. Who rides first class on a local train? No one, apparently, but me. Finally found a young lady who spoke a little English and who said at Roosendaal I should move forward, this train was actually two trains coupled and only one was going into Zeeland.

So, I grabbed all my crap, jumped off, ran forward jumped on, dragged all my shit thru the tiny aisle to the first class compartment, and went back to work, not even noticing that we’d been sitting in the Vlissingen station for a couple minutes…oh, shit! Again, grabbed all my shit, hauled it up the aisle, and got off the train. Well, I’d worked up quite a sweat.

The rest of the days were exceedingly chill, but productive. Working with Eva Auad on her album. Just dove in on new tunes, working only on my laptop, and in fact my upgrade had killed the compatibility with my Apogee interface just like that, so in fact we didn’t do any vocals or bass, that’s for next time. But we had a lot to do with programming. I was a little worried about the sonics of such an arrangement, some of the stuff was so ghetto, from an audiophile POV–importing the occasional item from Eva’s Garageband demos…but in the end…sounded really good. We worked on 5 songs and they are really smashing. Kinda of scary that what could work, actually does–in theory, a studio is needed only for recording live drums and I programmed live-sounding drums that will do the job.

Now on my way back to Amsterdam, the sun is out, and there’s music to be made.

On a side note, last night I learned of the death of Bob Brozman, the slide/Hawaiian/blues guitar virtuoso whom I had the pleasure of interacting with at the Puget Sound Guitar Workshop back in the 80s, where Jon Auer & I in many ways took another step in the direction of the Posies, after experimenting with various kinds of music in our prior bands. Bob, a wiry, fiery, hairy whip of a man— the perfect cross of Groucho Marx and Django Reinhardt, thought to be the world’s greatest busker, a world traveller and catalogue-maker of all the permutations the guitar has undergone from culture to culture, took his own life, after a car accident had shattered his body and his ability to play guitar was slowly leaving him, at age 59. Perhaps there’s more to the story. Perhaps not. Either way, he’s gone.

*****

Didn’t get this posted last week. Had a great couple of days in the studio with Staton working on two new songs, then….

AMERSFOORT, 5/3

It was only on the train platform, tho, that I realized I’d left my train ticket…and more…elsewhere…that’s a crap feeling. Nothing to do but sit on the train and panic. Got to Amersfoort and Eva Auad picked me up and drove us to the venue, a boat on a canal, lovely little spot for a few dozen people. I was still frazzled from wracking my brain as to where I could have mislaid my belongings. I changed my crusty old guitar strings, but everything was falling apart, it was like a bad dream. Then I had an inshore at Velvet Records, and I got lost trying to find it, but I got there, did it, got back to the venue, had some food, found that my stuff had been located, and then went in to play the show with a lighter heart. There were other things like this, symptoms of a busy life–like the fact I had to reset my iPhone cuz I’d changed the PIN code so Aden wouldn’t be able to hijack my phone and play Temple Run for 14 hours. She’d read my code over my shoulder. But I couldn’t remember the new one. Duh. All that’s fixed now, and as soon as I can get it so that I have my calendars unmerged, I’m golden. I have two of everything right now…uh oh. But enough about that. I was so happy to not be in a panic, and I could just watch and enjoy Eva’s set. We had just a little space with a digital piano and an amp, and then in front of that 25-30 chairs, and then some space with chest-high tables to lean on. The concerts are for like 40 people, generally. That’s what we had tonight, so they were happy, and that was with the great An Pierlé playing in town and a beautiful sunny evening as further competition. Wonderful audience, too. Music can really save the day.

THE HAGUE, 5/4

After the Amersfoort show there was all kinds of silliness and running around to get my misplaced documents. Thank god that was over, and by late afternoon I was in the Hague having tapas with Eva and Jeroen, who own Basta Music, Eva’s label. Then we played this teeny tiny theatre, with a teeny tiny audience. More than surreal. Sweet tho. Now it’s early Sunday morning and I’m on my way home, after three weeks away. Phew.

Love
KS
train to Paris

Our last days in Miami, beachcombing, giving Aden a lot of attention (I’m gone often and busy when often when home). Seeing my family before they left town n.  We didn’t push ourselves hard. We did get Aden in the water with a dolphin. And we finally had a good meal–food in Miami Beach is tailored for quantity in many ways. All the restaurants had a central-planning, just a little bit institutional feel to the food. They were all chains, or felt like chains. Our best meals were the daily breakfasts (usually, with jet lag, at 7) at Jerry’s Famous Deli, and then the lunch we took at Shorty’s Barbecue, well worth the drive. Someone explain tho the conflict I see only in barbecue places with the hostess taking drink orders, followed by the waitress pissed off that her drink order-taking was usurped. Happened again here. Amusing.

We did a lot of swimming, even tho it was often stormy. When we could see lightning, we’d exit the pool. Our continued discoveries of man-o-war on the beach discouraged us from braving the Atlantic, plus it was rough and Aden would be thrown around…in the pool she could swim, for hours. The mood of Monday’s mood was serious in light of the Boston Marathon bombings. Just grateful to be together, a little concerned at that moment if there were more actions in store, and we would be vulnerable traveling the next day.

That morning we were up early, very American breakfast at Jerry’s–Aden discovered pancakes and French toast on this trip. With some effort, we got the rental car back. Our layover in Washington was extended by a few hours due to a mechanical problem with the plane, Dom & I got inebriated and Aden was allowed to play a game with my iPhone (normally this is verboten).

We landed in Paris closer to noon than the 7am original arrival time, and there was so much for me to do–not the least of which was unpack and pack. Install software on my new laptop, do some mixing for Victory Lap from Seattle, upload some files for Bob Wilcox, and do dumb stuff like go the post office, etc. And the next morning, before 6am, I was gone.

Multitasker that I am, even the travel was useful–on the way up, as the train stopped in Rotterdam, my tech guy was on the platform to receive my new laptop so he could clean up the install of all my software, I passed it thru the door and went on. I’m in Amsterdam to rehearse with Carice van Houten, for our shows this week, learning a bunch of new stuff to round out our set.

After hours I’ve been working on the Victory Lap song I started Wednesday, adding some guitar and keys (on the new laptop which I picked up yesterday, light years ahead of my 2008 studio brain), and doing backing vocals and guitar for Minky Starshine. Plus doing the charts (writing out the chords, not doing a horoscope) for the Carice stuff we have to learn, and trying to keep up with the more challenging pieces. After hours there’s music listening and cheese tasting with my host, Pim. I might even get out for a social outing with friends, something I rarely allow myself.

Love

KS
Amsterdam

BERLIN, 4/7

When we woke up in Munster it was snowing, 30F. We dropped Laury at the train station and Simon and I drove on to Berlin. My home base was Simon’s flat in Kreuzberg, which was freezing, since he’d been gone all week, and it was patently  frigid in Germany this week. The sun was out, it was beautiful to look at, but absolutely bone chilling. The venue, BiNuu, is built into a metro station, it’s quite a nice space, and has a fairly extensive backstage and administrative…uh, it’s probably not nice to compare anything in Berlin to a bunker, let alone saying it’s a cozy one, but there you go. It’s cheery and snug…and a kind of bunker.

I spent the afternoon with Claudia Rorarius, filmmaker, shooting photos around the neighborhood, including along the canal where we find a little water rat community, like some kind of arty floating favela. There’s a disco that segues the same four-on-the-floor beat from Thursday evening til Monday morning without pause…as we were on Sunday afternoon, it was surprising to see how coherent the people coming in and out of the club apparently were.

Showtime–in this big echoey hall in this small train station, people gathered, sat on the floor, mostly, and we had a great show. The end of the tour, whether it’s a weekend or a year, is emotional, but this was a happy occasion, loose but as always when unsure of how things will go (and we can never be sure) I gave extra effort to the occasion. For the duet I reached out to an old colleague, eSin, who I know as a bass player, but I had an inkling she could probably pull of the duet as a vocalist, and she was really good–her singing debut. The show came to a peaceful conclusion, ending with Simon’s birthday at the stroke of midnite, and we celebrated in a nearby bar.

Two and a half hours of sleep later, I was in a cab heading to Tegel, was in my front door by 8.30. This week I was working on a few different projects; overdubs on the latest album by Minky Starshine; a bit of last minute programming for Bastian Baker; and former Seattle-ite Melodie Knight came to sing, vocals for an album by Benjamin Verdoes.

On Wednesday, Dominique, Aden & I headed to Miami, a place none of us had been; I’d only passed thru the airport on my way to and from South America on a few occasions…travel took a long time, with a pretty long layover in Newark (hey, how about free, or at least functioning, wifi, EWR?) but we finally rolled into our hotel around midnite. Since then we’ve been enjoying walks on the beach, time at the pool, and the company of family and friends. Aden is easily carsick, and we’re all busy all the time, so we kept our agenda refreshingly simple and unambitious. Worked like a charm. The beach always offers up things to contemplate–the synthetic look of a Portuguese Man-o-War’s floating bladder; the precise swoop of a pelican, skimming over the head of a swimmer just offshore; corals, shells. There were lizards, colored so and nervously repositioning and with globular, black shiny eyes, as to basically be wolf spiders.

MIAMI BEACH, 4/13

It looked like this outdoor wedding was in grave peril. Aden & I fled the pool midafternoon as white strands of lightning twisted down from ominous clouds. What followed was two hours of monsoon-grade downpour. But, by the time we rolled up the Raleigh, the sun was out again, and all could proceed without incident. My half brother, Scott, married his long-time girlfriend Samantha in the back garden. My stepmom’s family came from Norway; the three black sheep came from Paris; neighbors, college buddies–it was a big old party. Scott & Sam had asked me if I’d be willing to perform a song, and of course I readily agreed, just a short little number from ‘The Wedding Singer’. I’d never seen the film, but the song was easy to play. I took it seriously–I probably rehearsed this song over a hundred times to learn the words just right. I wasn’t sure where it was to be inserted in the program but as it turns out, it was for Samantha’s walk down the aisle–woah! Pressure. After the ring bearer and flower girl came up the aisle, I, decked out in a suit that would not be out of place on late-Replacements-era Tommy Stinson, bought in South Beach for the occasion, snuck to center stage past the bridesmaids and did the tune. Timing was crucial–I wanted Sam to hear the song, but didn’t want to hold up the show, so I timed it pretty good, the last stanza she and her dad waited a bit, but not awkwardly. It was sweet. Phew! The toughest audience to play for is one comprised entirely of friends and relatives–you can’t be objective, it’s better to have a little bit of a blank slate in terms of rapport with an audience, upon which you drape your performance. But I was able to find it here, just took serious concentration, I was sure I’d fumble the words but in the end I did not.

This morning, like every morning, we’re up early, to take breakfast at an outdoor cafe, watch the dog walkers, shame walkers, speed walkers, etc. We’ll do more poolside lounging, look for a manatee to kiss. Take in the sun, our bodies, especially the girls’, starved for vitamin D after the tenacious European winter (which may not even be over–I’ve been afraid to look).

Love
KS
South Beach

KIEL, 4/1

Driving all day into the frozen north of Germany (every part of Germany is frozen, in this spring that never was. It’s currently -2C as we leave Münster). We got to Kiel, and were greeted by WIlly, at his club Prinz Willy–site of a very nice KS/Subterfuge show in 2007. Willy walked us over to our hostel accommodations, taking about 750 meters to walk the 250 meters to the club, wrong turn after wrong turn on foot, all the while it was absolutely frigid. Along the way a gypsy band was attacking the neighborhood, two couples, armed with a trumpet, and accordion, and tambourine and doing the most aggressive busking I’ve ever seen.

Willy was pretty doubtful we’d have a good show–saying Easter Monday is a pretty poor day to put on a choice. Yes, but….note to promoters everywhere: once you agree on booking the show, your right to complain ends there. Stay positive, and having ups and downs is part of the job. Anyway, the shows are free and we were playing for a pass of the hat. I kid you not. So, the worst he would do is not have a great bar turnover enough to pay the cost of the hostel (which had to be pretty cheap, one room, no breakfast, etc). At one point he mentioned that if we could make a break that would be nice, but we certainly didn’t have to. It was put just like that. So, I decided a different strategy, to make an announcement that time was short (we had a hard curfew at ten due to neighbor noise complaints, which probably wouldn’t matter in our show, but, you know, rules are rules). Prinz Willy is lovely, homey cafe, a great place for a KS solo show. The show was wonderful, I thought. And people were getting up to go to the bar or go out to smoke or get up and go to the toilet, or whatever. So, normally how our show works is that for the first 30 minutes, Sir Simon’s songs are played, with me accompanying on piano and guitaret and harmony vocals, then it just switches and I am playing my songs, with Simon and Laury mostly hanging out on stage or nearby and occasionally playing guitar & bass for me. There’s no break, and most of the shows had 90 minutes scheduled for the whole shebang, which is like half of a normal KS headlining set. So, we were doing this gapless transition between the two sets and making one long set. I told the audience I was doing just that, and to please act naturally, go to the bar when they want etc. Before the show the bartender was discouraging us from eating dinner (which was to be provided as per our deal) but I insisted as I was starving. A hot baguette with vegetables and cheese was served, delicious. But the other guys said they were fine with eating after the show.

Show was played, hat was passed and we ended up with quite a bit of cash. Now, it was a Monday night, so I should say here that nobody in the audience was in the mood to get plowed. I think if we’d made a break the bar take would be exactly the same. But evidently, Willy & co really gave Simon & Laury a hard time about not making a definitive break, and in the end they didn’t even get their sandwiches! Well, all have to compromise, but the thing is it was presented as a ‘no big deal’ option before the show, and then a matter of life & death after the show. Me, I just don’t get it.

WIESBADEN, 4/2

Well, on to the good vibes. Absolutely gorgeous old belle époque theatre, huge chandelier whose cable and moorings emanated from a cosmic explosion in gold and white, set in a blue sky trompe l’oeil. Definitely the best acoustics of the tour, and cozy with tables and chairs and again a piano–oddly enough, the brand on the piano was “Gebr. Schwarz’ or something to that effect but on the back there was a plaque proclaiming it a Farfisa made in Italy. I can’t say we had scores of people in there on a Tuesday night but we had a nice gathering of folks and the room was just wonderful to perform in. So, I played a long, long set. The people running the place were lovely and there was a fine hotel so sleep in w/in walking distance. Perfection!

STUTTGART, 4/3

Totally weird and wonderful show. We were playing in the basement bar of the Schocken, where the Posies had put on a monster afterparty in 2005 when we played upstairs. The place filled up, with a lot of really young people but also a handful of much older fellas. So, you had one side of the club with guys in their 50s & 60s, and then the other side a bunch of kids who were like 22, and then like, empty space in between; the space in front of the stage. The kids were so shy, that they retreated when I jumped down to sing in the audience. There were also a bunch of folks more my age or in the middle of all that who were in front of the stage…anyway, I had my back to someone at some point all the time. Then, these three guys came in, who sort of looked like a well groomed version of a gang…they were really out of place and they knew it, but were polite enough to stick it out, and listen to what I was doing, which I thought was sweet. And when I called out for requests, someone called out for “Too True” one of the darkest of all KS solo songs. I really put that audience thru a workout. Just a strange vibe all around but we all remarked how fun it was. I didn’t have a duet partner that night so I actually convinced the girl doing the door to do it, she was mortified but she did it, having never heard the song, we just did a run thru before the show. She ended up really enjoying it and wanted to have a chance to do it again for real next time I was in time.

HAMBURG, 4/4

Now, here was a classy joint. The Nachtasyl is the bar in the upper decks of the Thalia Theatre, right in the heart of Hamburg. A gorgeous mix of 50s Scandinavian clean lines and an almost deco look, with the blue of a classical atlas ocean and dark wood. The ceiling has dozens of hanging bulbs, and the disco ball is lit in such a way that it projects a crescent moon  as its shadow. low benches and wooden coffee tables are arranged to taste, and again we had a real piano. And the staff here are just incredible. I got to town, and ran out to buy a Thunderbolt-ethernet adapter at the Apple Store, which is always such a big project. The sheer amount of customers in an Apple Store is always frightening, and the non-linearity of the shopping experience is freaky–I just want to give someone some money and leave. I had to pee, and so on the way I went into a cafe and bought a coffee only to find they had no restrooms due to remodeling. So, the fact I needed to get the the Apple errand in order to pee also added to the urgency of the matter. But it all worked out, I actually found out that if you go way in the back of an Apple Store there is a cashier, it’s not all just waving iPhones like magic money sucking wands.

Got back to the theatre, and at some point after soundcheck, they did something fun: Backstage, leftover from some production, was a massive, 2m high “N” made with carousel lights. It looked ancient but was actually a prop made with ‘distressed’ traits like peeled and cracked paint. They wheeled that out and put it next to the stage, then cut out a small “K” and “E” and tucked that into the space between bars of the “N” and lit that with a red circle of light. Awesome.

This show just went on and on…I was having such a great time. My duet partner, Mimi Schell, was really good, too–she dressed the part, did a little acting. She has an EP out, “Bring Everyone You Know” that’s very good. Just a warm feeling all around that night.

GöTTINGEN, 4/5

Well, I hadn’t been here since Lagwagon’s show in 1997, which ended in wrecked hotel rooms, a short stay in a German jail for me, and an unspecified number of hospitalizations. Not my brightest moment, shall we say (tho I acted in self defense and I will end the story there!). The good news is that Göttingen is a student town, and none of the people that were part of the fracas in 1997 are likely to live there still. It certainly wasn’t an issue today. Probably the tiniest stage in the tiniest basement bar you could imagine. There are seats made by attaching cushions to beer crates, so there was room for a few people to sit, and then people standing were consigned to the back or to the stairs. Awkward. But fun. Right after the show, I was at the mercy table for just a few seconds when a girl coming down from the upper floor lounge in boots fell forward from about 4-5 steps up and went face down at the foot of the stairs. It looked horrible, EMTs came, in the end she was OK with a couple of stitches in her chin. Seems Göttingen shows can’t end peacefully no matter what. Our responsible, Helena, was also my duet partner. Much fun was had with her ironic band name, Daughters of Doom, who utilize ukelele, glockenspiel and other non-gloomy forms of instrumentation. After the show we were all out for some bad wine somewhere, and discovered that the Uni here in Göttingen has an exchange program with none other than WWU in Bellingham, met a girl who had just lived there for a semester. Woah!

MüNSTER, 4/6

This was freakishly hilarious. Anyone who knows me well knows how much I love owls, and the club today is called Eule, or ‘owl’ in German. Well, this led to an endless stream of jokes…the set list: “Owl by Myself” “Owl Owl-long the Watcht-Owl-er”, “Bridge Over Troub-Owl-ed Water” usw. I was PeliKen Stringfellowl. I said making the national bird of the USA sick was ill-eagle. Yep. There were as many surreal avian riffs as there were songs. The venue is a basement student bar, rickety wooden floor and black painted walls with hand drawn white cartoons of animals; the main floor has wallpaper collage of various figures with cat heads. There’s a mural size technicolor photo of a lake in Canada where you can pick out a couple of cat-headed owls…it’s all too much fun. The show was like that. And I didn’t even do 4am Birds…it was too obvious!!

We were sent to Vapiano for dinner, which was basically like being in the place that will later be “Papa Songs” in Cloud Atlas. You get an RFID card when you enter, you wait in lines and your food is prepared in front of you, card swiped, you take your tray back to your table, etc. All jolly good if efficiency was even what I remotely wanted from my Italian restaurant experience. They will be making clones and recycling them into protein shakes in like ten years.

Almost done with the tour, it’s been superb…300km to Berlin!

Love

KS

autobahn