(I know it's obvious): B-R-R-R-R-R-LIN AND BEFORE My time home was brief as usual…enjoyable, always, but packed with activities that I can’t attend to on tour. I worked on my rental flat, which has been a big job to have brought up to date…working on it when I’m home is akin to carving a statue in marble, and every month or so chipping away at it for an hour or two. But, at long last, it’s almost ready to go. Of course, ‘almost’ is a state that can be divided in half an infinite number of times…
On Monday, all 3 Stringfellows attended a pleasantly boisterous dinner at La Maroquinerie (excellent music venue, where the Posies played in 2005) with all the cast and crew from the Cali record; Scott Colburn and his wife Jay; many of the musicians (the drummer from French legends Telephone, e.g.), and etc. Aden entertained, then crashed. I drank too much (which these days means 4 glasses of wine) but had a great time. Cali is an extremely kind and humble soul.
Tuesday was the beginning of the transportation strike in Paris—that still continues as I write. I myself was stuck in it—I was at a doctor’s appt., and the usual bus I would take home simply stopped running—a few hours before the strike was supposed to begin. It’s quite hard to tell the difference between a bus being late and a bus line not running at all—so I waited, with everyone else, for awhile, then went ahead to another bus stop—some of them have LCD signs that tell you when the next bus is coming, and for line 76 they just said ‘no service on this line’. So, I ran to the nearest metro, which goes to Bastille, and ran to Aden’s school—I was supposed to pick her up at 4.30, and since I wasted some time waiting for the bus, and the metro doesn’t get me that close, I was almost 10 minutes late. But she had been put with the kind of day care they have when school ends, and her best friend was there, so she was OK. Other than that, I don’t rely on the bus or metro or SNCF that much. I get to the airport by a shared van service I book online—but that is subject to the insane traffic jams that the strike has produced, with thousands more cars than usual on the streets of Paris. So, what would have taken us 45 minutes on a normal day took us almost 2 hours on Wednesday night, but, it had been planned for in the timing, even tho’ I booked it a few weeks ago. Tuesday night I had another appointment in the evening, and was perhaps going to meet Scott and Jay for another dinner before they left town. I came out of the appointment, about a 20-minute walk from my place, into a total downpour—and there had been no sign of rain when I left home 90 minutes earlier. So, I got home, completely drenched—I couldn’t even see after about 10 minutes of walking as my glasses were also completely splattered—and freezing—so cold I was starting to feel oddly warm, which easily could mean hypothermia—and I got myself into a bath, and since everyone was stranded (cabs are impossible to find during the strikes as demand goes up tenfold) we just called it a night.
Wednesday I got out of Dodge—I flew to Cologne and was met by Thomas from Subterfuge, and we went to his home in Düsseldorf. He and his wife have a beautiful little flat, I felt very at home there. And tired—getting up at 7am every day to get Aden to school takes its toll, esp. when it resumes immediately after a week of 12-19 hour long studio days, itself coming immediately after an all night travel day and a week of intensely thrash-eriffic Posies shows. But, having breakfast the next morning, I felt more than OK, Thomas had scored some excellent
mehrkorn brötchen, and we enjoyed the fruits of his dacha—he has a little garden in the suburbs, and from it he produced, among other things, a jam of strawberries and elder flowers. Before bed on the arrival night I ate some of his walnuts, he said it was a huge haul this year, and that traditionally implies a cold winter is coming.
Thursday we settled into the
Stattwerk Studios, and used this nice recording facility that Subterfuge is well acquainted with to rehearse our set. They had chosen the song list of what they felt inspired to learn of mine, a selection of songs from my last two records, plus a couple of Big Star songs, ‘Solar Sister’ by the Posies, and ‘Don’t Break the Silence’ from the Jon Auer & Ken Stringfellow split EP that came out in 2003 on Arena Rock. Their drummer wasn’t coming along for the tour, and we worked out a kind of ultimate slo-core vibe for the songs: ‘Solar Sister’ sounds like a kind of Leonard Cohen song now…they learned the stuff in the keys that are represented on the record—I generally play the stuff a couple of steps higher live, so now ‘Je Vous En Prie’ is baritone-ing into Lizard King territory…we also worked up a cover of Todd Rundgren’s ‘Dust in the Wind’, that, being a kind of self-pitying attempt at apologizing for being a weak and needy, is a perfect kind of ‘look at where I’m not anymore’ kind of reflection at my life. Anyway, we worked up some very different kinds of arrangements and sounds for this show, and then I dusted off my curveball and taught them one of my new songs, too. They guys in Subterfuge—the aforementioned Thomas, who plays guitar and sings; Lorenz, who plays keys, bass and sings; Lars, who plays guitar, banjo, bass and sings are really flexible musically and easy to get along with. There’s also Kai, who didn’t rehearse with us, but is actually Subterfuge’s bass player (and an excellent recording engineer). He’s on the tour, however, playing bass for the Subterfuge songs, and then joining in on percussion and glockenspiel for my songs. I am going between guitar, keyboards, and bass as well. The sets have been made, so far, to just move around amongst the Subterfuge songs and my stuff, in any particular order. During the Subterfuge songs, I have been playing piano the last two nights, as both of the first two venues on this tour have had pianos in house.
SCHWERIN, 11/16
We picked the gear up in the morning at the studio, and divided it up between the two Opel hatchbacks we're touring in, and hit the road for the Mecklenburg region of Germany, in the northwest corner of the former east. Schwerin is beautiful little town, situated next to a huge and dramatic lake that leads to the sea just a bit north, via a river/canal. On an island just off the shore of the lake, sits
Schwerin Castle, which has a long, and fairly unfortunate history. Much of the 21,000 sq. meter building has been restored, and is open to the public. Part of the building is used as the meeting place for the local government, the rough equivalent of a state congress. From the entrance, the castle looks like it was entirely built in the 1850s. But, upon closer inspection, you can find parts of the older incarnations underneath; some gothic parts, some brick facades from the 17th century, etc. The first fortress on the island was a wooden stockade built by the Slavic tribes who used to inhabit the area. When the Germanic people attacked in the 10th century, the Slavs burned their own fortress and fled, in the face of a much larger force. Then more structures were built, and occasionally abandoned as the regional capital shifted between Schwerin and Lugwigslust. The castle was occupied by invading Swedes at one point. In 1913 it burned, and the Duke himself abdicated in 1918, thus it took much of the century for restoration to take place. Still, it had an active life, as a hospital in WWII, and a college during the communist years. It’s supposed to be inhabited by a ghost, a dwarf named Petermännchen, who harasses trespassers, and plays tricks on guests and residents.
The center of Schwerin is quite lovely—the lake extends several lobes into the town, and thus you are always alongside the water; also, there is a large reservoir smack in the middle of the town, in the night it’s a perfect oval of black, reflecting the evenly spaced streetlights and huge chestnut trees that circle it. There’s an odd castle-like structure right on the reservoir, I don’t know what it is exactly—it feels like an armory, perhaps…with a Moorish motif (that you will also find, oddly, in parts of Schwerin Castle). There were no signs on the building to say what it is or was, but there is a plaque on it that states a short poem on freedom, dedicated when the fall fell in 1989.
The venue, Speicher is a nicely-sized hall, holding perhaps 300 people if full…steps lead up to the bar level which is filled with fanciful metal and wooden furniture for lounging. My favorite was a huge banana-shaped bench, carved from a solid piece of wood, in the image of a whale.
We had decided to set up our stuff on the floor of the club to be amongst the people, instead of on the stage, and it worked out great—except the audience was very small, and all of them sat on the big steps leading up to the bar. They were comfortable, I was comfortable, and so it all worked out just fine. For the encore, I had many of them come and get on the stage, and I played a couple of songs on the piano. The show is mellow compared to even the intensity of a KS solo show, but I find it appropriate, and it matches the gentleness of Subterfuge’s songs. I drew some comparisons between Subterfuge and the
Scud Mountain Boys, so, essentially the evening sounds like me backed by a drummerless
Pernice Brothers. Sounds great, don’t you think?
Of course, you forget how intense the situation was in the former eastern bloc, now that everybody in Germany is supposedly just German (you still find westerners who exhibit a kind of prejudice against easterners for being backwards, unable to work hard, etc) but there were some older folks there who told me about the change that came in 1989, when they were allowed to travel abroad for the first time, etc.
KIEL, 11.17
We spent the morning checking out the castle, and then drove to Kiel. Upon arrival, we went to our accommodations—a backpackers hostel, but in a high-rise apartment block in a kind of obscure neighborhood on the edge of the city. When we arrived, there was a sign that said ‘back at 4’ so we went to have a café to kill some time. The band had suggested McDrive, and I firmly vetoed. So we went in to the nearest neighborhood. The first bar was closed in anticipation of a private event that night. We passed a few kebab shops, and then came across the Crazy Inn. A totally odd little neighborhood bar with the atmosphere sort of like a waiting room at a doctor’s office—white walls, IKEA furniture, a few easy-to-grow houseplants. A bit sunnier than your average bar. The bar itself was really small, just big enough for two customers to sit side by side. It was on a higher level than the two tables (that were candlelit, in a bizarrely homey touch in contrast to the gambling machine and automated dartboards that dominated two of the walls. There were two, later four, other customers there when we arrived (“Sind Sie Ekonomische Studenten?”, they asked when we arrived!). I don’t know what they were drinking, but we ordered coffee, and the guy behind the bar said it would take a few minutes for him to brew it. We watched the regulars throw darts, laugh, etc. It was impossible for the place to be seedy, clean and well lit as it was, and in fact everybody was quite friendly, if a bit perplexed at our presence—I got the feeling they had the same 4 customers every day!
We went back to the
BekPek place, and got our keys, and the bedding (DIY!). Then we went in search of Prinz Willy.
Prinz Willy is a local artist, involved in many projects, and he started this eponymously-named small, lovely bar/café/venue three years ago—he says the incoming people and artists give him inspiration for his own work. The atmosphere is perfect—stylish, a bit 60s, very friendly. His dog, and sometimes cat, are around. There are cakes baked by his mom, and a small menu of salads and sandwiches. Beer, wine and liquor. A tiny stage, with a piano. The place is very inviting, and the crowd was quite diverse throughout the course of the evening—a couple in their 60s, young hipsters, a couple of oceanographic scientists, two street drunks who came in during the soundcheck, and were very nice—they loved the Todd Rundgren cover. I only said they were street drunks as that’s how they basically described themselves…they were pretty disheveled, a bit wild eyed, but very gentle in fact.
Willy fed us, tea and cake before soundcheck, and our choice from his menu afterwards. Francoise Hardy played from his Itunes. I had my own Ethernet connection backstage, and the tables filled up with a small but extremely attentive and friendly crowd. Subterfuge and I alternated songs for the set list, which worked well enough I might just stick to that for the rest of tour. But, no rules of course! We were set up in front of the stage, except Kai played from the stage, and the piano was there. I am really coming from a different place on this tour, it’s kind of a pain-free performance, no tortured stuff at all, just simple, extremely quiet, beauty. Most of the time I don’t use a mic and if I do it’s barely turned up. I wander around in the crowd, like a KS solo show, and the guys follow as their set ups allow. Really nice shows, and everyone’s happy at the end. After the show, I chatted with the oceanographic scientists (there are a lot of them in Kiel), and we went back to the hostel.
In the morning, we went to the old Olympic city—housing and facilities built for the rowing etc. events for the 1972 Olympics. None of us could say for sure if sailing was an Olympic sport…but there was a large harbor for small sailing vessels, with way more moorages than boats. There were kind of two harbors there, the Olympic one, and the local yacht club, with a small stretch of beach in between. We traversed all of the waterfront there; the water was cold and crystal clear. In general it’s pretty cold in November on the Baltic (not as cold as it is here in Berlin, tho’!), but it was great to be out on the seaside for a bit. We looked at a half dozen fishing boats that had pulled up and were offering sole and cod, cleaning the fish on board—ducks, seagulls and a swan were begging for the bits. We then went in to Alexy’s café, which was mostly populated by people in their 70s, seafaring types and their families, playing cards, and having brunch. The specialty is a piece of black bread with a large pickled herring on it, delicious—I had ordered a bit of smoked salmon, but realized the error of my ways, I should have gone for the local flavor. The other brunch favorite was the same black bread, with an omelet on top, and a pile of tiny shrimp on top of that.
We went back to pick up the gear at
Prinz Willy (in general, we leave the gear in each club overnight and pick it up in the morning, it’s the safest option—it just takes someone from the club who’s willing to be there or has to be there in the morning. Willy was going to be cleaning up anyway, and he was still working when we pulled up a little later than we said we would…he was totally unfazed, smiling (which he does pretty much all the time!) and helped us load out. Then he gave us the cakes from Saturday! He gets new ones each day. Amazing! I will keep that place on my list of favorites.
I was sound asleep when we arrived at the hotel in Berlin, another hostel. A bit more deluxe than the one in Kiel, but the same premise. You make your own bed, you rent a towel if you didn’t bring your own, there’s a bathroom on each floor that everyone shares, no TV, no phone. You bring your own food and cook in the kitchen, marking your stuff in the fridge. The
East Seven here in Berlin has a nice lounge with free wifi, and is just a little more stylish then the BekPek place in Kiel. Both were friendly tho’, and that counts for something, eh?
We got our keys and then drove around the corner to the
Bassy Cowboy Club, which is a very industrial space (the owners said it was an old bank, but what a gothic bank it must have been! It seemed more like an old garage or small machine shop) that’s been gussied up with 60s surf record covers, cowboy paraphernalia, and other fun stuff. It’s actually beautiful. It’s full of nooks and crannies and just beat up enough to make you feel at home. From one alcove that hides a little love seat, a huge wall size photo of Saddam Hussein, looking oddly like a 70s promo photo for a pop singer, grins out at you. The place is full of bizarre twists like that. A screen was showing a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western…and when they turned the house lights out…wow, it looks so cool. We set up in a circle in the middle of the floor, right where the audience would stand, and it looks great. We are pretty much using the stage in each venue as a place to store our cases.
As I finish this, we are having dinner at
Monsieur Vuong, an unbelievably good Vietnamese restauranthttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif. The food was so good I didn’t want to finish my dinner…I wanted to have a little left to pick at…forever. And they made a perfect macchiato. Highly recommended!
Love
KS
Berlin
