Ken Stringfellow dot calm

5.27.2007

THE WEEK AND THE STRANGE

You might think that nearly a week in Paris without any shows to play would be restful, but trust me, I had just enough time to do the things that playing and traveling so much prevents me from accomplishing—I remixed and reorganized all the demos for my next record, and I recorded a track for an upcoming Posies tribute…yes, I am playing on a tribute record to my own band. Details tba…
I went to see Slint at le Bataclan. I looked at the brilliant results of our photo session in Oslo with Mathieu, and we got a photo up on the Disciplines’ myspace at last. NRK, the Norwegian equivalent to the BBC, added the demo of ‘Best Mistake’ to the P3 station (i.e., music for the kids) in heavy rotation…they have gotten behind us in a major way.

OSLO, 5/26/07

I zipped back up to my 2nd home for a solo show, part of the record release celebration for the Jim Protector album, which is nominally titled “Shields Down”. By virtue of my mixing and effecting, I received a co-producer credit; I also play guitar, keyboards and sing on the title track. The show was at the Garage, which is the same space as the old “So What” club, where the Posies played a couple of times and I played one of the only solo shows in Europe for This Sounds Like Goodbye (the other being the Irish pub next door to Moby Dick in Madrid). It’s a grungy basement club, with friendly staff, and decent sound, and a really nasty dressing room (tho’ there is rumored to be a band apartment upstairs…). I spent the afternoon in the Oslo train station after riding in from the airport, it’s quite nice in there, really it’s an atrium filled with shops. I spent most of my time at the Rooster Coffee shop, and then walked to the Garage when soundcheck time was getting close.

When showtime came around, there was nobody downstairs—and why would there be? It’s dark and smelly, and upstairs has a nice terrace and a good atmosphere in general. I grabbed an extra amp from backstage and brought it upstairs and plugged it in to an overhead plug, and played 2 songs for the people in the terrace…that got their attention, and then I was able to lead them all downstairs for the show. So, I played, standing on a variety of furniture, for about an hour, until JP was basically set up and ready to go. Good stuff. I also joined the band for a couple of songs in their set, which was great fun. Their record is one of those wonderful, uncategorizable things…you can go to their myspace and find out how to order it from there…

Last night I was dog tired. I came home from Norway and went to see Patrick Bruel, a fairly mainstream French singer, who has a couple of really good songs. I don’t know what to compare him to…like a former teen idol Neil Diamond?

Today was a great, lazy Sunday. I woke up at 9, and went back to bed in the bathtub…then we went out for a promenade to the nearby park. We did a naughty thing and gave Aden a squirt gun, which she used to avenge the attempted theft of one of her toys by an older boy. She got him right in the face. Uh, oops. I mean, haha. I mean, I didn’t mean to…encourage her to defend herself against bullies? You bet I do.

From there we went shopping at our local market, commonly known as the marché d’Aligre. And then we went to the Musee des Arts et Métiers, which has a restaurant serving a brunch buffet on Sundays. You pay €20 per person (Aden was free) and you can enjoy the buffet and the museum at your leisure. The collection at the museum, which is housed in a thousand-year-old chapelle that’s been added on to, celebrates innovations in technology and design from 1750 until the present day. Lots of tiny models of old steel mills, building sites, trains, etc. plus examples of astrolabes, daguerreotypes, on up to early aircraft experiments, a Hispano-Suiza motor car, and so much more—including almost all the devices from Antoine Lavoisier’s laboratory. Highly recommended.

I was going to watch a bit of the French Open, but it pissed down rain today, and most matches were postponed. Tonight I’ll be at the Nashville Pussy show at La Maroquinerie, and will hang with one of the members of the excellent German band Subterfuge, with whom I hope to do some collaboration (insert joke here) sometime soon.

Today we had a one-day early (since it’s the weekend) celebration of Aden’s third birthday, with cake, candles, and champagne for the adults. Aden is spoilt and happy. And very loved.

Love
KS
Paris

5.21.2007

SLO BLO

I got home to Paris Wed. morning from Seattle, in time to take Aden to the crèche; and then have lunch, get my hair cut and colored, rehearse with Liquid Architecture, have dinner with Dom, have a drink at Le Motel (actually, two: I met a musician I know via myspace, and had a drink 'til I was nodding out from jet lag--I excused myself and left, but as I entered our building Dom was coming down the stairs and made me turn around and go back for another!), unpack and pack.

MILANO, 5/17

For once I *didn't* have to get up at the crack of dawn for some musical errand. I was up at the relatively luxurious hour of 9, to allow Dom & I to leave the house at 10.15 to walk up to Bastille, the nearest cabstand to our place. We met up with the woman who booked Liquid Architecture for this show at the cabstand, and headed to Orly, arriving to the check-in just in time to jump the queue and join the rest of the band and crew who were being helped at that exact moment. The assembled personages for Liquid Architecture is wonderful freak congress: Jerome Sans, who is a very well known museum curator for contemporary art, sings and plays keyboards; Audrey M. is really the main singer, is also a fashion pre-cog, straight outta Philip K Dick—she designs a magazine that publishes images and graphic ideas for trends for the year ahead and includes music that is bubbling under as well--fashion psychic abilities are strong, but also we know that designers are always working on the collection for 6-12 months in the future; Manu C. plays guitar, he’s playing with quite a few Parisian artists; Jerome “La Perruque” is the drummer, one in the same with the Jerome that tour manages Olivia Baum, is also a hipster around town (complete with a white belt!!); Flairs is the bass player, he’s another well-regarded Parisian groover who plays his own music, and with others, and he and La Perruque and Jerome S. all DJ in Paris. I guess I do too, as I will be DJing at Le Motel in late summer. That’s the band, and coming along we had Dominique, who is Liquid’s manager; the live sound engineer; the aforementioned liaison between Liquid and this event, which was the “Uovo” arts festival; and Fabien Verschaere, the visual artist that is collaborating with Liquid on much of their visual presentation. We flew on Volare, which is an Italian budget airline with deep blue planes with deep blue interiors. Our afternoon arrival coincided with the worst period for post-USA jet lag: I am alert in the mornings and late at night but between 1 and 5p.m. I am woozy as if drugged. We made our way to the hotel. Dom had a been a last minute addition to the traveling party, she wasn’t sure if she would need to stay in Paris and work but then this day was a bank holiday anyway, and she figured she should come along. So, we didn’t have her on the hotel reservation, which should be no big deal, but in Italy, it’s a big deal. They had no space for her. The hotel was full. I said, anyway, she’s my wife, even if the room is small we can share it, it’s no problem. The guy was furious. A single room is a single room. We offered to pay extra, but no. At this point I lost it. The guy and I were screaming at each other. I told him to shut his mouth; no one talks to me that way. We got a double room. The hotel, Palazzo delle Stelline, is generally nice, but this guy makes it a no go. Stay somewhere else when in Milano.

With that episode over, it was more or less soundcheck time. We caravanned over to the Rainbow Club, which a dark cavern with the concrete floor emitting projections in the shape of benches and tables, all of concrete, covered in thick globs of black paint (although it’s chipped in many places, showing that the interior was once sky blue, and once inferno red—a rainbow indeed). My position at extreme stage left (determined after moving the backline around a few times) was in front of a huge screen that would be projected with the images, static and moving, that Fabien had created. In other words, I had a bright light in my face all night but I guess it looked great.

Also Italian: the promoter came to dinner and refused to pay for it, as there were two unexpected guests (Dom, and Manu’s girlfriend Marie, who is an editor at French Vogue for fuck’s sake). So, we each had to shell out 20 Euros…meaning, that the promoter was too cheap to pay 200 Euros for a dinner for the band, which is a normal promoter obligation. This, at a state-sponsored arts festival with a budget of millions of Euros. What a shit. It’s not the 40 Euros (ever the gentleman, I paid Dom’s tab), it’s the cheapness of the promoter…I mean, we’re talking art contemporain here, where pieces are sold for hundreds of thousands of Euros. OK OK. You get the message.

Well. We went to the club, and Jerome and Audrey went to the supermarket next door to buy some fruit, champagne and wine. That’s good people. Then it was Showtime, and being our first show, I thought it was amazing. We had never even rehearsed with Jerome, as he now lives in Newcastle as he is the curator of the contemporary art museum there, and everything went off without a hitch. For my part I had the best seat in the house, as having black and white art projected onto my black outfit and black guitar evidently looked amazing. The crowd was not a rock & roll crowd but an art crowd, lots of guys in jodhpurs using their let hand to hold their right elbow and their right hand to hold up their chin, looking intrigued and thoughtful. It’s not known if you should clap at the end of each song, or it the show is a ‘piece’ being presented. Hilarious!

After the show we drank champagne in the tiny backstage, and Dom & I ran off to the hotel soon.

I woke up at 4.30. Wide awake. And with daylight savings in effect, it was getting light. Finally I left the bed at 5.45 when my wake up call came. I asked Dom if she wouldn’t mind taking my guitar home; she had no luggage of her own and I was flying on Ryanair, who can be really expensive to fly if you bring unusual luggage. More on this later. She agreed. She was also asleep! I headed down to the lobby, hoping my nemesis wasn’t working that early. He wasn’t. They called me a cab, and I made my way to the Milano’s Central Train Station. The cab driver was really friendly and we talked music the whole way. Again, with the jet lag, the sunny morning was crystal clear and I was wide awake. The train station in Milan is a Mussolini legacy, of course—he was, after all, the guy who famously made the trains run on time. It’s a massive grey stone edifice, with the Fascisti’s Roman-revival imagery all around. Lots of menacing eagles, etc. I was deposited off to one side of the building (it’s important for the taxi driver to know what you are doing exactly in the train station—taking a bus, and to where, or a local train, etc.—as the station is several city blocks in size and being deposited on the wrong end could cost you 20 minutes of walking in search of the right area. I had been clear so I was right there, and found my prepaid bus to Bergamo airport. This trip takes about an hour (it’s quite a bargain at 7 Euros prepaid, the promoter had provided my ticket). I read the whole way (I finished Louis Jones’ hilarious novel “Particles and Luck” this weekend). At Bergamo airport’s check in, I found that Liquid had prepaid for me to take my guitar, so I felt bad as that’s about 20 Euros. But, it helped me out in that I was given priority boarding in exchange so I was the first person on the plane—this is important on Ryanair as there are no assigned seats. I went thru security and had an espresso and a brioche. We boarded, and I was aisle seat, 7th row (the first 6 rows were off limits for distributing the weight of an undersold flight towards the back). Finally I crashed, and fell asleep for most of the flight. I dreamt heavily, mostly about my bandmates in the Disciplines—in my dream they joined me on the flight for a band meeting. I could barely open my eyes when we arrived at Torp/Sandefjord, and the scene was very different—grey and drizzly and lashed by arctic winds. I grabbed a sandwich and water to have on the 2-hour bus ride to Oslo. As soon as we settled in on the bus, I had my sandwich and fell asleep, hard. I could hardly see when I got off the bus; I practically walked right into Bjorn, my guitar player, who met me at the station. I got my bag and we walked to the rehearsal place. I went * back * to sleep on the couch! I had some time to kill as Claus was working so we wouldn’t rehearse 'til that evening. The other guys arrived and I was starting to wake up. We grabbed a light dinner at Tosca, the Italian café near our rehearsal place, with very friendly staff. The guy working that evening was very jealous I had just been in the sun in Milano. I was a little trepidatious at the visual potency of the macchiato he brought me. But I needed it. We went over to the Tiger of Sweden boutique to pick out clothes for our video and photo shoots, they have been generously sponsoring the Disciplines and they have lots of great, trendy stuff-stovepipe jeans and tight shirts and 80s-retro cuts. I got some great stuff; they even gave me the silver tie I was hoping for. We went back to the rehearsal place and ran through our set a few times, and I was truly looking forward to laying out on Claus’ sofa and resting up for the days ahead. We went to pick up our photographer, Mathieu Zazzo, who flew in from Paris, and dropped him off with Baard at Baard's place. Claus & I went to his wonderful home. A friend who was recovering from Claus and Nanna’s National Day party occupied the guest room, so I had the sofa, which was no problem. At 11.30 I was pulling the blanket over me. Ah, but I had to pee. Ah, but there were some lights on in the kitchen. Ah, but I had too many pillows. Ah, I should…you get the picture. I tossed and turned. I picked up my computer to send an email about something on my mind. I finished reading my book. I pee’d again. And again. The sun started to come out. By perhaps 7a.m. I finally got to sleep, but I had to be up at 9.

OSLO, 5/19

Oh well. My alarm went off at 9, I don’t even remember falling asleep but I remember looking at my phone to check the time at 6.30. I showered and dressed in my new stuff (including pointy white shoes—Look Sharp!) and Claus and I went to Mokka, the beloved bakery near Claus’ old flat (they moved into their house late last year, so my first few Disciplines-oriented visits were at the old flat, which was also wonderful). We got to the rehearsal place and eventually were joined by all, including Mathieu, our stage tech, and a film crew. The film crew shot our rehearsals and show, plus casual shots before and after the show/rehearsal etc., for a video, with a documentary feel, for “Best Mistake”. So, we played the song a bunch of times in rehearsal. Mathieu shot stills all day too. Then they loaded up—as a lead singer, I felt it would be breaking tradition to help load equipment! And we dropped our stuff at Café Mono, the great little club in the heart of downtown Oslo, where I played with Jim Protector late last year. They’ve remodeled since then, the big couches in the back room are gone, and there are little tables and stools set up with a more minimal style than the kind of thrift-store furniture vibe it had in the past. After we dropped the gear Claus and I went back to his place and got ready while the others went and scouted locations for the next day’s photo shoot.
We all met downtown for dinner at about 6, and then walked to Mono. There was a daytime all ages show going on with a kind of slo-core band from Iceland, kind of a bar band, really. When they finished (they were using our backline) we put our stuff in place and did a soundcheck. We used the house guy—our sound guy had a migraine—I couldn’t help suspect he was the victim of another National Day party! Claus and I went out for yet another café and quick glass of wine at the same place as where we had dinner, which is called…uh, it’s the Norwegian word for “lighthouse” which bears similarity to “phare”, French word for lighthouse. It’s up in the Italian style arches that line the main square of central Oslo, and serves a kind of Danish cuisine, plus some pâté, which is what I dined on. They make wonderful espressos, I have to say. Ah, yes, Claus & I also taped an interview for broadcast that night on Norway’s P3 national radio.

Back at the show, people started to arrive. We had a really good crowd for the show—there were some confusing things about it—for one thing, our show was booked originally for Sunday night. We moved it to Saturday about 3 weeks ago. This is the other confusing thing—Mono normally doesn’t do live music on Saturday’s, so people wouldn’t expect us to be playing there. But Mono felt confident that we would draw just as well as their DJ nights, and that the National Day weekend created some exceptional circumstances. While not sold out, we had plenty of people there, and anyway Mono is tiny so once you have more than 50 people there it feels busy. Really, this was our first club show, and the first show we played that showed our real aesthetic. The show we played in Larvik last year had a set list of songs that we don’t play anymore—we’ve written more, better songs since then and now our set has no slow songs, only upbeat rock tunes. I don’t play keyboards anymore, I just sing, so no more mic-stand-as-crutch stuff, I have to shake it like a Polaroid. With Tiger of Sweden’s help, we have a unified, sexy, tight-black style, very rock & roll. So, you could call the Larvik show our .5th show and this our first show. Playing to a Saturday night crowd at Mono means there are lots of people who are just out for a Saturday night; we don’t really have fans of our own yet per se. So, to put people thru 10 songs they’ve never heard is asking a lot, and by this token we were very well received. I know we played a dynamite gig, I felt great about it. No encore, but lots of applause and people clapping along etc. We had a few friends there, and a pleasant surprise to see Johnny Quinn, the drummer of Snow Patrol, afterwards. He has a Norwegian g.f. so he is spending lots of time there, tho’ they also live in London. Other musician friends were there, and Lise, from Briskeby came too—to see me sing with her band. Lise has been really good to me/D-plines; it’s generous of her to be so supportive. One of the Icelandic dudes asked me if I knew where to get coke! I don’t. In Norway, anyway!

Jet lag finally brought me down and I woke up the next morning in time to run to a stylist and get my hair all nice for the photos. Claus and Nanna were hosting a huge family party that afternoon, a brunch etc. at their house as Nanna’s nephew was baptized. This meant that a presumably hung over Claus had to spend 2 hours in church that morning. I only drink wine these days, so I am never hung over (even when I used to drink hard liquor, I was virtually immune to hangovers). I will say that jet lag and 2 hours of sleep make me a cheap date. I think I had 4 glasses of wine in 2 hours after the show, and that was enough to make me too tired to be there anymore. Eventually we assembled at the rehearsal studio and started to shoot photos. The first shots were against a concrete wall outside in the same complex as the studio—with a wicked wind blowing that pretty much undid my hairstyle in about ten seconds. We shot in the street behind the studio, and in a parking garage under the studio. Then we went to an empty warehouse and shot around there, the challenge of the day was to squeeze into these sections of the wall inside and hold bizarre poses by pushing your hands against protruding beams…it was a total yoga move. Most of the day, as spent as we were from the show (I find that the two Disciplines shows were the most physically challenging shows I have done), we pretty much had enough energy to stand around and look cool. But, that’s sort of the point. We shot photos at a couple of locations in Oslo’s harbor, one standing in a field of mustard flowers next to a garbage dump, and one against some generic old warehouse (I told Mathieu about rockandrollconfidential.com which catalogues awful band promo shots, an overwhelming number of which are taken in front of brick walls or along railroad tracks—the ultimate being by a brick wall that still shows some railroad tracks in the shot). We also went into the woods outside Oslo and stood amongst dead trees, moss and nettles for the last batch of shots—and then we were done. It was easy, and I have total confidence in Mathieu. As he doesn’t shoot any digital, we won’t see any results 'til later this week.

After the shoot we went our separate ways, Claus and I grabbed some take away food and went home. I was incredibly tired. I ate my food and checked emails. Claus put on the film “Amelie” and I was crying every 20 seconds so I went to bed. I wrote the first two lines of this blog and couldn’t keep my eyes open. It was 11p.m. I woke up at 1p.m. this afternoon! Just in time to shower, pack and walk up to the metro station near Claus and Nanna’s house, and get to the airport train that leaves from Oslo’s Central station. I met Mathieu there. Oddly, tho’ I booked our tickets in totally separate sessions online, Mathieu and I ended up sitting together. We didn’t check in together, either, so I can only guess it put us together since I booked them both logged in to my Norwegian.no account. So, as I write, Mats is asleep and I am wrapping up this blog. I think the 14 hours of sleep cured my jet lag, however! I feel pretty good, but sore from the show.

Love
KS
FlyNordic flight to Paris

5.16.2007

LOVE THY MUM

I didn’t get online with my own computer in time to post this time sensitive blog post on Mother’s Day itself. Suffice to say, I spent the day with two VIMs, my mom and Dominique.

*****

It had been one day short of a year since I had been in Seattle—no coincidence, just the maximum I could extend my ticket from May 2006. My flight to Toronto was largely sleepless, but the in-flight movies-on-demand were impossible to resist—I watched 3 of them and was on the way to getting thru “the Good German” when the systems were shut off for our descent.

The US Customs and Immigration have a rather remarkable facility at Pearson airport in Toronto—despite the fact that there are several flights a day leaving from YYZ’s US-bound terminal, it was experiencing a dearth of customers when I arrived on Air Canada from Paris. Most of my co-passengers were Canadian and getting off in TO. The officers in Pearson were friendly, and I was relaxed. I told the officer screening me that I had two bottles of wine with me as gifts, and he made no further inquiries. Terminal 1, where the US –bound flights board, is gleaming white, clean and well designed (IMHO). There are regularly spaced electrical outlets by the rows of seats in the waiting areas. Wifi is available (CA$9 for a day’s access). Might I also mention that most of the seats on the flight from Paris had electrical outlets as well (mine didn’t, unf.).

Both of my flights departed a little late. It didn’t affect much in my plans. I arrived more or less on time, and with no customs to clear in Seattle, I was able to make my way out front quickly to meet my mom and stepdad, and then in turn we waited for Dom and Aden’s flight to arrive (it landed early). After we were reunited, we headed to Palace Kitchen in downtown Seattle, just one block from our hotel. This was to be my base of operations the next few days—we all came off our flights with a bit of a cold, so Dom and Aden spent much of the first couple of days recovering in the room, barely eating, so I would go up to the Palace Kitchen and meet friends for a meal and/or a glass of wine. In many ways, Palace was my base of operations even when I lived there—the kitchen is open 'til almost 1am, the lighting is dark, the atmosphere lively, the staff is friendly, the food is excellent and the wine available by the glass is high quality and always something unexpected. It’s where I took Jill Sobule when she came to work with me in Seattle; I remember a lively evening with members of Cheap Trick, Pearl Jam, Marigold, and Peter & Stephanie Buck there when Cheap Trick played the Crocodile Café (in about 1998) that the place handled without so much as a feather being ruffed; the Palace is also family-friendly—at 10.30 that night they brought out crayons and coloring books for Aden as we dined.

My days in Seattle were busy without being *especially * productive—I saw my dentist and my optometrist—I don’t bother investigating if my insurance will cover me for these visits in France, I just do ‘em here, plus I like my care providers in Seattle immensely, and they know me, my health history, etc (I highly recommend Spex,the optometry clinic and salon in downtown Seattle). I saw a friend or two. I played some wicked tennis (I won 3 out of the 4 sets I played). I rummaged thru my storage space and even found a few things to sell—some DVDs/CDs I didn’t need—this coupled with unwanted DVDs/CDs I brought from Paris netted me some really good music (the new Feist album, a Karen Dalton album reissued by Seattle’s genius label Light in the Attic, the Format, the last Neil Young album and his two recently issued live albums from early 1970s performances) and plenty of spending money. We made our family pilgrimages to two favorite eateries—the Red Mill hamburger-y (twice), and Smokin’ Pete’s Barbecue. I culled some of the stock in my wine storage, so every night we were sucking down some premium grape juice—a 2001 Shafer Hillside Select cab; Sine Qua Non’s coveted “Suey” botrytised Roussane from California and an Alban vineyards Syrah were among the highlights.

BELLINGHAM, 5/10

We headed up to my old hometown a day early, to spend more grandparent time, and to enjoy their lovely home on Lake Whatcom. There was a lot for Aden to take in, but I managed to show her: the hummingbird feeders with lots of feeding (and fighting) birds; a pair of loons feeding off the end of our dock--at one point when the female stayed down longer than the male, he cried the lovely, forlorn whistle that loons usually make at night; and I caught a garter snake that was sunning itself on a bush and showed it to her (being familiar with snakes via Harry Potter, she was not afraid). On the day of the show, I headed into town and did a bit of DVD and bookselling—my favorite bookstore, Village Books, had moved up the block from its original location—it doesn’t meld into the adjacent café the way it used to, unfortunately. I drove by my old house, where I wrote my first songs (incl. Flood of Sunshine), had my first drinks and kisses, and spent about 8 of my most formative years. At 2pm I pulled into the visitor lot below the Viking Union building at Western Washington University, and made my way up to KUGS, Bellingham’s college radio station, that now inhabits a suite taking up most of one floor of the building—it used to be a 10-watt station in one room. Jon arrived and we did an interview, then headed to the Wild Buffalo to set up. It turned out that we could soundcheck right then and there, so as quickly as I could change my strings (they were 2 years old) on my acoustic guitar; we ran thru some songs and coughed up all the rust in our lungs. Then we headed off to a café to talk about plans for a future Posies album, down the road—Jon is still touring for his album, and I’m trying to get my album done and get the Disciplines’ album off the ground, so now is not the time, but we both hope to work on something sooner than later. I had dinner with Dom and Aden and my folks, and bless ‘em, my folks offered to babysit so Dom could go to the show.

Our show was really, really good. We had over 150 people show up, and I had devised a set list earlier that pulled songs from all of our albums that was very well received (obv. Jon & I tailored it a little more when we got together). I felt relaxed, and tho' I have been fighting a cold for my entire visit; my voice was in good shape. All in all, the night exceeded expectations both musically and in the number of people that came to see us. As you can imagine, lots of friends were there, including Chip Westerfield, with whom I formed my first band in 1980 or so; and my son, now 21, was able to come…no, I don’t feel old, if you are wondering.

SEATTLE, 5/11

I came into * these * shows with some expectations, as I knew that the first show was almost sold out in advance, and the second one was selling well, having only been on sale a week it was already to the halfway point towards selling out (it didn’t sell out, but it was plenty full). We hit the road at about midday, and stopped in Seattle to check out our accommodations (my friend Brian and I swapped houses for the weekend, he’s in my flat in Paris right now) and have a quick lunch, at Little Coney’s at Shilshole Marina. We had already passed some time in my old neighborhood that week—Dom harvested clothes from the Value Village by my old place, and of course, we did a drive by of the house I lived in for 9 years. I couldn’t stay too long—it’s emotional to see it. Time has softened the impact of seeing my old place in Bellingham, where I lived from 1979 until 1986; but I only sold the house I lived in, starting in 1997, last spring so it’s a bit intense to see it occupied, its windows regarding me as a stranger.

We pulled into the alley at the Triple Door, and the staff was there to welcome us and help get all the stuff down into the club—Dom’s suitcase, a huge box of CDs, a stroller, my bag, my computer bag, and, oh, yeah, a guitar. Craig Montgomery, who used to be the Posies’ live sound engineer, touring with us from 1990 to 1994, does sound at the Triple Door. From 1989 to 1991 Craig also toured with Nirvana. I had already seen Craig that week for a tennis match—Seattle really is that small, or at least my part of it is…

The Triple Door has a magnificent Steinway, so we set that up. We did a run through of “Last Crawl” at soundcheck—unfortunately we didn’t get to it during the shows—with me on the piano that had potential…during the shows we did perform “That Don’t Fly” and “Love Comes” with me on the piano, and I did a bit of “Flood of Sunshine” and “Burn & Shine” from back there as well. Tons of friends came to the show, or stopped by while Dom & I were having dinner; Darius was in the house of course; Rob Glaser, founder of Real Networks, bought a CD from me at the merch booth. Matt Southworth, from the Capillaries, did an excellent set opening for the first show; Jon joined him for a couple of songs. As the first show was all ages, Aden was down in front being adorable and making sure everybody knew that it was her papa onstage. I thought that both shows were great—again, I have to say that we showed a kind of relaxed confidence that is really unstoppable—by the second show, the cold I’ve been fighting was starting to win, but generally people remarked that the Rod Stewart rasp coming into my voice was welcome, and by concentrating, I could hold the pitch without too many errors (and play the hits—suddenly we’re in a baseball game), although every now and then my voice sputtered out of control and I sounded like the grocery store checkout kid from the Simpsons. By the time the second show was finished, I was totally depleted, and wanted to go to bed. It took awhile to sort out the money, and get loaded up, but we managed and by 1.30 or 2 I was in bed recovering.

Since then, I’ve been in Bellingham; yesterday (Saturday) there was a big party at my mom’s place, with relatives, friends, neighbors, all having food out on the deck. I had my private wine stash—two bottles of Harlan Estate’s “The Maiden”, from 1998 and 2000--decanted in our room, for Dom & I. I gave my son a bottle of Chateau d’Yquem for his birthday…Aden abused her brother relentlessly. Fun was had by all. Finally, at about 9.30, several days’ worth of driving up and down I-5, the shows, the socializing, cold meds, and the Napa valley red caught up with me, and Dom, and Aden (except for the wine part); all three were asleep, leaning on each other like the posts in a teepee.

Today we woke up early on Mother’s Day, it’s good to have everyone assembled, three generations of women from my family (all three with different last names), having toast and coffee, and looking at the grey choppy water of Lake Whatcom slosh against the bulwark.

Here’s to mothers, and the renewal of life, and the lives we share.

Love
KS
Bellingham, USA.

*****

Addendum: I spent yesterday driving to Seattle in the morning to get Dom & Aden on their flight, then running around Seattle saying goodbyes and taking care of last minute errands—I did manage to check out the new Green Pajamas CD, "The Night Races Into Anna", which features my contributions on two of the songs, recorded last year in Seattle. It’s on the Hidden Agenda label, a subsidiary of Parasol, same as my first album.

I drove back up to Bellingham Monday afternoon, and had a last dinner with my folks, enjoying the lake as dusk, and watching the hummingbirds one last time. Nighttime, and flitting bats, came. I was up this morning at 4.45, as I had a 6.15 shuttle to SeaTac. This is a pretty remarkable service—there were two shuttles to chose from that morning, it arrives in the form of a Greyhound-style coach, with much nicer seats, and picks up passengers at the Valu-Inn near the freeway—which is just 15 minutes from my folks place in the sticks. It takes two hours, as it makes stops along the way in a couple of towns, but it costs only 34 bucks. My cab home tomorrow in Paris is going to cost the same price in euros, meaning, about $50-60, and it’s not going nearly the same distance. The check in and security lines at 8.45am were short, so I ended up with plenty of time to read the NY Times, break my fast, and update this blog…and sequence the Cosmopolitants’ album, listen a song in progress I’m working on with Lydia Lunch, and take notes on the rehearsal tapes of Liquid Architecture. In other words, back to work. All I could think of as this morning as I woke up in my seat on the bus and looked over the leafy parts of south Seattle is that it was incredible tennis weather. Paris partners, where are you? I can’t work Remi to death, and due to the restrictions on the number of courts you can book, he and I can only really get in one good match a week—out schedules permitting. I often have daytimes free, so if you’re out there…let’s hit.

Love
KS
SEA A Terminal

5.06.2007

ON BORED

No, it’s just a pun. I’ve definitely not been bored at any point lately, with all the things that I have been in pursuit of. First off, I should mention I put a ton of photos, old and new, in the photos section. I found a few old things I hadn’t posted in the past, plus there are photos from my tour in March and other recent events.

Also, I finally managed to watch the massive 4-DVD set of performances from the Live 8 Concert in July 2005. I’m clearly visible in REM’s 2-song contribution, there’s a really good shot of me jamming during the long outro groove of ‘Everybody Hurts’. A partial list of other artists on the DVDs includes Paul McCartney, Coldplay, Green Day, the late James Brown, The Who, Brian Wilson, Pink Floyd, Razorlight, U2, 1 Giant Leap, Madonna, Roxy Music, Elton John, Youssou N'Dour, Jay-z, Bjork, Stevie Wonder, The Thrills, my boys Snow Patrol, and Neil Young. the collection was released by EMI Music.

May 1st was of course international workers’ day, called Labor Day in many places outside the US. With the elections looming in France, the opportunity for vigorous agitation of the political atmosphere was taken by the extreme left, who paraded en masse very close to my house. There were floats with punk bands playing on them, all sorts of shouting and banner-waving, and the like. Me, I’m not voting, and I ain’t working in the conventional sense, so I drifted alongside the day’s events as, yet again, a detached observer of human frenzy. I was picked up in the afternoon to go to rehearse with Liquid Architecture, and after taking our time to find a parking space (think New York with more one way streets, and smaller streets in general, and hills, and you have the parking landscape in Paris), we trudged up Menilmontant to the rehearsal complex on rue Boyer, just down the street from the Maroquinerie, where the Posies played in our second visit in 2005. We were a few minutes early, and the management of the place had arranged that they would open late that day (most businesses—stores, banks, restaurants—plus schools and other government offices are closed on May Day in France), at 3pm. They had called Audrey from Liquid to tell her that they would open at this hour, and to make sure she was still coming. There were about 20 musicians waiting for the staff to arrive and open the place…which never happened—and of course, no one had a cell number for anyone connected with the place. The staff just didn’t bother to open. Shitty! We gave them 'til 4, and in the meantime Audrey booked another place for 6 that evening. We gave up on the first place, and went for a coffee, and then found that driving to the next place was impossible—we would have to cross the parade route with all the commies. So, we threw our gear on our backs, and trudged a good mile from the café to the next rehearsal place…crossing the insane parade at one point, and slogging down rue de la Roquette, just 100 meters from my house, at one point. All in all, we spent 6 hours on this escapade but got only 3 hours of rehearsal, leaving us simultaneously overworked and underprepared. No need to say I was totally wrecked by the time I walked home, and Dom was in one of her “let’s rearrange all the furniture” moods. It * did * make sense…Aden said that I scared her because I was grunting so much moving the various armoires and music gear all over creation.

LUXEMBOURG, 5/3

I had some seriously sweet rock gear courtesy of the good folks at Tiger of Sweden, and I was eager to debut the stuff. Dom was pissed that I was going to look good but was going out of town. I told her, “don’t worry, I’ll be wearing this stuff for the next three days.” And I wasn’t kidding. I headed down to buy a newspaper at my local newsagent, and went to the Metro. It’s a bit awkward with a guitar, a small bag (toiletries and merch) and my computer bag, but manageable. I had to change at Republique (unless I wanted to walk up to Bastille—or change at Bastille, but the correspondence between Line 8 and Lines 5 and 1 is basically like walking there from my house). I got to Gare de L’est, which is a shambles right now with the preparations for the new TGV service to Strasbourg (Luxembourg’s service will also be high speed this summer). I had a café, and waited for my track to be announced.

As I made my way to my voiture, I remembered that I had splurged for a first-class ticket for the outward journey. I had a seat with no adjacent seat, and plenty of space to arrange all my crap. As we waited to depart, some young women came through the train asking for donations ‘to help deaf children’. The woman who accosted me was truly aggressive, saying “you speak English? Help the children? Give money!” and thrusting a kind off PeeChee with a badly Xeroxed form on the front showing previous donations of €15-€20…curiously in the same handwriting. I was beyond miffed. I asked, politely, if I could see some literature from their organization. Suddenly she didn’t speak English at all. I stood up, and got in her face, and told her she was not only lying, but stealing—and in a sense, stealing from deaf kids by interceding in the finite good will directed on their behalf. I chased her off the train, in fact, harassing her and her cohorts all the way. Later, I saw them being led off by the police. Good riddance. I know there are people who are desperate for money, but these women were clean and well dressed. And something about the fact it was a fraud based on the exploitation of our sympathy for handicapped children simply outraged me.

Three hours later, I was surprised to find the Douanes asking for my passport. Weren’t we in an economic free zone? I imagine his reply would have been something along the lines of telling me that it was free for everyone except drug mules. He asked me if I smoked, asked me if I had “just clozes” (clothes) in my bag, and the very fact that I offered him the chance to have a look meant I wasn’t the droid he was searching for.

And then we were in Luxembourg. It’s a real bourg, Luxembourg—a little fortress on it’s own little mountain, with formal feudal lands around the base. It dates its history back about a thousand years, when a town started to solidify around a monastery that had been established by an Anglo-Saxon missionary. Before that, the area was under Roman rule, and was in the land of the Gauls before that, but in those times the action was centered around a city called Trier, now in Germany.

The venue, d:qliq, is a brilliant little bar with a cozy little music room on the second floor, accessible only by a tiny spiral staircase…I don’t recommend bringing your SVT rig here. The music room has its own bar, and the whole place has outrageous wallpaper, fuzzy blue classic French-style wall tissu, with a metallic silver backing. I was to play with Brokeback, which features a member of Tortoise and two cronies, playing very Tortoise-y jazzy post rock. I wanted ask them if they, as Postal Rockers, could provide the franking for my postcard to Aden, but I kept that one to myself.

Note: Luxembourg has low taxes (compared to France), high wages (compared to anywhere outside of Dubai) and cheap prices. You could eat, as we did, for ten euros, and a pichet of wine was about five euros.

I explored, soundchecked, politely sipped about half a fluid ounce of the beer that the very friendly bartender, Manu, thrust in my hand when I arrived, sent my postcard, checked out the cathedral, and so on.

Brokeback went on first, as they had full band instrumentation, and d:qliq has noise restrictions after 11.30. Due to Luxembourg’s vast expenditures on art contemporain, and d:qliq’s esoteric booking choices, I had assumed that the Luxembourg-ois would have little to no interest in my pleasant musings, and infinite interest on the free jazz stylings of Brokeback. So I was a little sad about going on last, thinking that I would play to the owner and a couple of houseflies. I enjoyed Brokeback, but by the end of their set almost everyone was down in the bar, and there were about two indie rockers left. Shit. I set up my stuff after they cleared out some space for me on the tiny stage (sign of a cool musician—the drummer turned his snares off without me asking). The amp provided didn’t have functioning reverb. Shit again. I was ready, anyway, and so I climbed down the spiral staircase and in my best crap French (going for the ‘oh cute, the American is trying to speak to us’ tactic) I invited everyone upstairs and told them a bit about my music. Hey, it worked, people came up. Now, having never played there before, we’re talking maybe 30 people, but the place is so tiny that it feels plenty full with that size of a crowd. And people were * really * receptive. I opened with one of my new songs, forgetting one line and faking it, and people cheered and it went on from there…the place was so tiny I didn’t even need the PA when I played the keyboard, I just shouted above the piano and was totally audible. I played for an hour or so, and by then it was late to even make that much noise, so Fred gave me the nod. I got at least a minute of solid applause after wards, and we all went down to the bar—I set up my merch at the entrance, and sold almost all my CDs—people were buying them in 2’s and 3’s so I think that’s a good sign! I got my laptop out and DJ’d for a while, and eventually, the place closed, and I went upstairs to the 3rd floor, where there is an apartment for the musicians. I had told Brokeback to leave me the futon by the door, as I had to be up super early.

The next morning I was up at 6!!! Fuck, what is it about musicians having to work the latest and get up the earliest! Incredibly, Fred had volunteered to come and pick me up at 7 to take me to the train station—he even bought me a café and croissant at the gare. Vive Fred! Great guy, his wife is also wonderful (it was she who picked me up on the show day).

Advice: when you buy tickets for the TGV, it’s better to buy a one-way, and pick up your return at the station when you leave (give yourself 40 minutes at the station before your train leaves and you should be fine)—if you buy a cheap return fare online, it’s non-refundable and non-changeable. So, since I was going back earlier than I originally planned, I had to eat the return ticket (about €30). The new ticket was being reimbursed by Universal, but still. I bought a paper, said goodbye to Fred, and boarded. And fell asleep. There is no comfortable way to sleep on the TGV in 2nd class, I woke up every ten minutes with sore ankles, a sore ass, a sore face from the vibrating window.

I got to Gare de L’est, and to get to the Metro from there you must at present leave the station, cross a street, and then descend into the Metro station. With all the passengers from les Grandes lignes, the Metro staff is always busy giving foreigners directions so it’s really hard to get their attention to open the gate for people who can’t fit thru the turnstiles. I had to push and pull my 3 items under the turnstile, and then get thru, it’s a real ballet…I’m bending like Keanu in The Matrix dodging bullets, and of course any delay in the turnstiles really pisses off the Parisians.

I got home and depacked, and kissed Dom, and had to go right out again to meet Olivia Baum, as I was playing bass with her on a TV show. She lives just up the road from me, so Dom & I walked up to her block, and Olivia, her drummer for the day and I shared a cab to the TV studio. I played bass, not live, just taped for later broadcast, on two songs for a show on French cable. After the performances there was an interview segment with the host, and several guests. It was kind of a strange show, but I enjoyed it, and eventually I shared a cab back to my hood with Olivia and my day of work was more or less done (I always have little projects to work on in my home studio tho'). I needed to spend a little time with Aden as I have been very busy, so we played, and then there was a massive thunderstorm, probably the first she has seen since she was speaking and walking, so we watched that out the window. There had a been a downpour earlier in the afternoon, but I had missed that as I was in line at the Post Office—for once, I was glad it was moving slowly! Dom was totally caught in the thick of it and came home with her recently coiffed hair all curly (which I really love, actually!).

Saturday I fiddled with stuff in my studio, listened to a great EP of music by my friend Chris who goes by the name ‘Madison House’ (he plays in a great band called Living Better Electrically and also plays in the touring band of Sparklehorse from time to time). I helped Dom clean the flat. That kind of stuff. Packed, but I was doing that in bits all week. I just realized I didn’t bring a hair dryer…and I’m waiting to board my flight to Seattle! Tennis rackets are on board. Ah, yeah, on Saturday, as exhausted as I was by my travels, I got up at 7 and played tennis with my friend and neighbor Remi, in the cold and wind of the morning after the big storm.

Last night I had an apero with the very talented photographer Mathieu Zazzo, at Le Motel, of course—they now have a tiny stage, I expect to be on it at some point!

Looking forward to seeing my Seattle friends, family, and fans this week. Really looking forward to getting into my wine storage and pilfering some choice bottles, now mature! Tasting notes to follow! Expect spelling errors…

Love
KS
CDG terminal 2A, outside of Paris.

The latest release by Ken Stringfellow is a split EP with Spain's Muy Fellini, featuring never-heard-before music incl. Ken's take on Bob Dylan, released by
King of Patio records
in Spain on Oct 8, 2009.

Order it directly from Muy Fellini here www.myspace.com/muyfellini
10" VINYL ONLY!!!