Ken Stringfellow dot calm

12.29.2007

HOW IT ENDS

'It' being 2007. Well, truth is, we don't know quite yet. This year for me personally...I changed my entire M.O.; I tried to be less of a M.F., at least. I took a little from Buddhism, and a lot from just opening up to the people around me, realizing, hey...I have a lot of great people in my life, who are willing to stand by me, if necessary...a few were sort of getting, well, skeptical that their good will spent on my behalf mightn't have been better spent on a HD TV or perhaps a lap pool. The writing was on most household surfaces. My attitudes about friends, food, work, family, have all completely transformed. I was helped by a few angels both incautious and perhaps disguised. I now take nothing as metaphor, and believe very little (but still, sometimes, a little) in fate. Life is only opportunity, and if you are alive and awake, your opportunity is to ease suffering, and quit being such a prick.

I was extremely well taken care of in Larvik during Yuletime, and I really have to express again my gratitude to Bjorn and his family--it's really a bit odd to be the one guy that doesn't go home for Christmas--oh, except the 3-4 billion people who don't celebrate Christmas--but, in Norway, anyway, even people who come from other traditions certainly have to accept the fact that they might as well take the days off too. Anyway, I knew that my family was celebrating elsewhere--and I have family on both US coasts, plus Dom & Aden in France. I slept. A LOT. I think I *averaged* 12 hours a night. From the 24th to the 25th I slept 15 hours!! It was marvelous. My body took in that healthy, if copious, food and decided to go into repair mode. On the 24th, we spent the evening at Bjorn's mom's house, which is 'in town' in Larvik. As opposed to Bjorn's dad's place, which is a working farm in a village outside of Larvik some ways. We went there on the night of the 25th. Larvik really reminded me of Bellingham in so many ways. I think it's a bit smaller, but it's a port city of roughly the same shape and size, and the same kinds of trees and vistas, plus it's about as far from Oslo as Bellingham is from Seattle. Anyway, there were plenty of moments when I found myself thinking I could be in my soggy little hometown, sitting in the Disciplines' soggy little hometown. I had a room in Bjorn's mom's place that was on the top floor in a corner, with a small skylight. The wind and rain made their rounds, rattling the glass to remind me they were there. For which I was grateful; a storm in progress, when I'm immune to most of its effects, is one of the best sleep aids of all time.

On the 24th, I woke up and commenced eating. First a spread of coldcuts and things, and later, a lovely roast lamb with root vegetables--celeriac and a kind of turnip. There was a sauce made from a cranberry cousin, but one who grows on hilltops, not in bogs. I had been given a lovely bottle of Toro red wine from my sommelier friend in Oslo, who wrote later me saying I should hold it for 3 more years, but...I hadn't really much else to offer, and couldn't *not* contribute to the dinner and try to repay in a small way the hospitality shown me. Hey, it was delicious and well appreciated by my hosts, so--thank you Mattias!

My eyes were fluttering as dinner was drawing to a close, but there was still dessert and presents...I had to summon the strength...I managed. I was very happy to receive chocolate from Bjorn (incl. some 99% cacao nuggets...that's how *I* roll), some traditional Norwegian wool mittens from moms, and there was a present for Aden as well! Incredibly thoughtful!

Then I passed out. 15 hours later...

I woke up to eat again! More cold cuts. Then Bjorn and I drove around Larvik a bit, found that nothing was going on, in fact, we saw exactly two people on the streets at all, walking their dogs. Darkness came, and we went out to the farm.

Bjorn grew up here, in this fine little village--I didn't get the name, unfortunately! i saw his school and the places he hung around. We crossed a sturdy looking bridge over a pure black river and went down a little dirt driveway (the VW bottomed out) and pulled up to his dad's place. As I got out, I could smell onions, one of the crops. Just a hint, scallions, on the breeze. Bjorn's dad is a man who likes to lute his own fisk, and I had expressed interest, by which he was delighted. Lutefisk is a running joke among Scandinavians and the people who observe them, and frequently singled out as an exercise in tolerance at best, not something you actually eat and enjoy. Bjorn's dad (also named Bjorn) pointed out that lutefisk used to be something only poor people ate, and it became a delicacy more recently (see also: almost all of French cuisine, especially the bits involving offal). Perhaps this is why it is the subject of ridicule, people's discomfort/guilt/disgust towards the poor--and the humor migrated along as a cover up. In fact, I found lutefisk delicious. You can read about how it's made here on wikipedia. We had he traditional accompaniments--whole potatoes, mashed up peas, bacon, and some bacon fat to drip on the whole deal. I went light on the sides, and heavy on the fish. Bjorn sr. had done a top class job--you can really destroy lutefisk when you cook it, as the soaking process removes much of the protein, and the fish can fall apart. But this had still a bit of meaty consistency, a mild but pleasant cooked fish flavor, and I ate about a kilo of it. We also enjoyed lots of intelligent conversation (both of his parents seem well educated, arty, and interesting), some aquavit, and I even had a beer. Then we headed back before the roads got too slick.

LARVIK, 12/26

The last gig of the year, at Trudvang 'Castle'. Not so much a castle, but a decently sized hotel that's been around for 150 years or so. It's a homey place, it's sort of like a series of rec rooms from the (18?)70s, and some modern, basic guest rooms. Each year, the locals in Larvik, plus assorted homecomers, gather here for a massive to do--they sell tickets in fact, at NOK300 (about $55/€38), and it always sells out. I think they stuff about 450 people into this event. This year, musical guests were the Disciplines--our first show ever being the same event last year; Oslo indie orchestra Truls and the Trees; Swedish funk heartthrob Magnus Tingsek; and our man from London, Josh Weller. Everybody performed marvelously, I have to say, and they were all extremely diverse in their musical approaches. Josh charmed all with his short acoustic set; Magnus and his band expertly changed instruments every other song and took the beasty beats to the highest level; the Truls filled the room with a merry blend of violin, vocals, drums, and other minstrel tools.

Ah, then our show. Well. I felt like we got that much better than the last show--Helsinki--and came on like a fully pro organization...but with plenty of heart and soul. We were on FIRE. And we were breathing that fire on the (extremely) drunk Norwegies, and they were DIGGING it. I think most of the audience was so drunk that they probably didn't *remember* the show, but, it's in there, somewhere. I got a lotta hugs from Magnus & band and T&TT; before the show, I thought these musicians were so good that they were gonna look at us like total rubes with our simplistic stuff...in fact, we are REALLY starting to sound like a weird mix of AC/DC, Joan Jett, and the Go Gos, and these folks told us they had just been to a ROCK CONCERT the likes of which they hadn't seen since they were kiddies. Wow! I spent a lot of time in the crowd--the young folks were behind a solid defensive line of Claus' dad and his two brothers, who looked like a kind of blonde version of the Green Bay Packers--in fact, when I went into the crowd again at one point, they picked me up and THREW me back onstage! Later, somehow, I jumped OVER them and landed on my feet in a small posse of, well, nice looking young gals, and one of them screamed in a kind of good way. It was spooky! No one got hurt.

For our encore we did the new, "American" version of the old chestnut "Oslo", which we haven't played since the last Trudvang show. Now it's much quieter, and sounds a bit like "Tequila Sunrise" by the Eagles. No shit. It worked! the second encore song was a rippin version of Solar Sister, with Magnus T. co-singing with me. Turns out he is a FOTB lover from the days of yore (people don't believe me when I say ALL Swedish musicians, from EVERY genre, love the Posies), and he did a great job singing the high bits and inventing some new harmonies so we could go in an unbroken line from beginning to end.

I didn't sell a single vinyl afterwards--everybody was down 300 k's, too drunk to care, too drunk to carry something around, and by the way, NOK300 doesn't get you any drinks, so....oh well. I did have a great time hanging with the musicians in the basement, drinking cognac or whatever we could find. We tried to have a big jam later around the piano, but we were all drunk and tired, and it was patently awful. So we all went to bed!

I woke up the next day, and came downstairs for coffee, amazed that the hotel didn't care that I was in the room til 3pm. I think they are so grateful for the business that 450 thirsty partygoers bring that they could give a shit about renting any rooms the next night. I bade farewell to Josh and then Disciplines tech Fredrik and I drove to Oslo. Fredrik is ALSO from Larvik, and is a marvelous, marvelous guy. He is studying criminology and his day job is working at a kind of prison!

That night we tried to go see a movie--but the internet ticketing went down, and by the time we got to town, everything was sold out. I came home to an empty flat, which was more than fine by me, and watched 'the Squid & the Whale', which had come for free with the local paper. Earlier I had dinner with Sara from Revolver Bar, who is helping out Disciplines with publicity--she handed me the latest issue of Spirit magazine, a free mag distributed on campuses all over Norway, that has a Disciplines blurb (with a great photo from our October Oslo show) in the December issue. It was here that I tried the other Norwegian Christmas delicacy, pinnekjøtt--"stick meat", translated literally. Oh, come on, stop it. It's lamb ribs which are salted, smoked and steamed. So they are falling off the bone, but also sort of dry. You eat them wish mashed rutabaga and potatoes. Again, delicious!

This weekend we've been back at the studio, mostly working on/arguing about this new version of "Oslo". I think we've at last really turned it into something special...it's completely different from the rest of our music. Probably too sweet, but probably a hit single in Norway...and perhaps that's the only place we'll release it. Anyway, we have too many songs for this album, and more on the way via collaborations that I cannot yet divulge on this forum!

I also discovered perhaps the best coffee in Europe (in fact, the owner has won worldwide barista competitions) but I have to write about that next year, as I am going to get all the URL info tomorrow when I go in for a macchiato before the studio.

I was really pleased to get texts and emails from friends all over the world--e.g. a musician friend in Malaysia was thoughtful enough to text me on Christmas. I spoke on the phone with most of my family, and a few friends I hadn't heard from in too long.

**************************************

For this ending and beginning of years,

I hope everyone is able to appreciate the fragility of peace, the strength of forgiveness, the connection of ALL human beings...and bring forth a new year of greater tolerance, perspective, and generosity.

I will see you, somewhere.

Love
KS
Oslo NORWAY

12.23.2007

ONE MORE THING

Recently, my first wife, Kim Warnick, beloved bass player, bartender, giver of wit, lover of all things Ramones, was in hospital for some serious surgeries. No real insurance, although Music Cares and other folks are helping. However, if you ever knew Kim, or even if you didn't, and you thought...hey, she's awesome, and she needs help, you can write an email to Kim directly (kimfastback@yahoo.com) about how to donate. Her family is putting donations in a fund to go towards Kim's medical expenses and what is sure to be quite a bit of recovery time. Kim had some crazy things growing on on her spine and is walking by sheer...medical skill and the grace of Johnny and Dee Dee. Anyway, Kim is ace--I always thought that if Seattle issued its own money, Kim would be on the twenty, at least!

My Xmas $ went here and to Senegal. Kim needs it, tho' she'd never say it, and you can give here with good conscience and knowing it won't be anything but appreciated.

Love
KS
Larvik NO

12.22.2007

GOD JUL

Maybe it's the post xmas-party hangover, or maybe it's just 'how it is' this time of year. I never get much of the expected cheer...but, then again, I don't take vacations either. I am pretty much treating the days of the year with equal weight...although I have to admit, I miss August quite a bit right now! I have been so cold, the days have been clear and the cold knifelike, penetrating and seemingly lethal. Last night it clouded over and there was fresh snow today, so that actually translates into warmer weather. In other words, I can feel my hands again.

Good news, bad news…I’m not sure which is which. However, it is significant, that I won’t be a part of REM’s upcoming tour. I spoke with Mike Mills, it was his birthday last week and I gave him a call. During the call we spoke about the tour, and confirmed what I had already pretty much figured out—the band was moving in a purely guitar-based direction, same as the new record, and they didn’t really need my bleeps and blops for this new direction. Also, I estimated recently on my own that between salary, 5 star hotels, flights, etc., it costs the band about half a million dollars to keep me on tour for a year. And, if I’m going to be sitting on my hands for the 8 or 9 new songs they plan on playing each night…well…I am sure they did the math already! I can’t say what the future holds, but I will surely miss the guys and all the good stuff that they bring with them: music, an uplifting spirit, and a generous dash of joie de vivre.

However, the fact is that I was stressing a little as I would have to face a big choice here: between promoting the Discipilnes album, or being part of REM’s tour. The fact is, the choice was made for me, and I am more than OK with it. If I am going to have my own band, esp. a bright and shiny youthful one, the time is now—putting it back a year would be perhaps something we wouldn’t recover from—everybody would prob. get that much deeper into their lives, and a middle-age drift (as opposed to middle age spread, which is kind of like the freshman fifteen) would surely settle in, and pry the four members into the realm of just a Christmas card each year with ever taller kids and fatter dogs. Which is not a bad thing, but, it’s essentially retirement, and retirement from fun, thus opening up your schedule for years of unabating toil. Not for me, but the others, maybe! And for me, it would be back to solo KS, or an unending search for sideman gigs. Solo KS, I can live with that…but this band, the Disciplines, is so much fun, and the people are so fine, that I really would hate to lose it before giving it a real go. And go we will.
We’ve been working on our album this week, making steady progress, the songs going from concrete pits to piles of blurry scaffolding to some things that almost look like houses. And then the lights will get switched on. And then we’ll mix. I don’t know what mixing is in the house building analogy. Maybe it’s interior decorating? It’s the same house, but a bit…fuller looking? Maybe it’s a fresh coat of exterior latex (no, not the kind the gimp is wearing!).

So, to recount: it was time for me to leave the comfortable and fun nest that REM provided me for the better part of the last decade, and fly. And if I fall flat on my face, or the Disciplines emerge to an astoundingly not-loud ‘who cares?’, it’s really OK. Life is about the doing, and the trying, and the solving, and the making, and not about the one result that’s going to be OK. It’s ALL Ok.

So, in the last week, my computer almost died. I had no laptop for 5 days or so, and it didn’t look like it was coming back. I even scoped out prices for a new one, and suddenly, one day, Mac Frank, the band’s computer-savvy friend, walked in with my living, breathing iBook G4, and said Merry Christmas, no charge. When the shops open again, I am getting him something smoky and single-malt derived!

My flat was the scene of a few raging parties; I stayed up late the other night participating in one, which was fun; last night I went to bed before everybody else came home, and woke up now and then as people were going completely NUTS. But in the morning, all the revelers were gone, and things were sort of back to normal, like nothing had happened. But, I am SURE it did. Cuz I wasn’t dreaming it—my dreams were, in fact, much, much weirder. Conspiracy theories and more. I always fall asleep with a space heater on, and it eventually gets my room really warm, and that stimulates some pretty lysergic…REM phases! Hahaha.

Also during the week, the TV show Lydverket was in studio filming us, and following me around, showing how I take the tram like a good Oslowegian, and stopping off for my caffeine and magnesium fix (I have been eating almost one bar of 70% cacao chocolate—the highest I could find—for energy in these dark winter days). That and the Tullamore Dew I drink before each vocal take, should be bad for me in theory but in fact I have lost weight being here, and feel pretty much on top of the world at any moment. OK, yesterday I had a headache when I woke up. I am not really drinking in the classical sense, so when I do join the festivities, I pretty much stink at it, and after two white wines I am ready for bed, and I wake up with a headache anyway. But my relationship with nutrition has been perfect—some smoked salmon, some Wasa bread, and some yoghurt. I live exactly on that.

Hmmm. I got paid for the Disciplines show that we did back in May. It seems that Claus made the deal over the phone with a guy that doesn’t work at the club anymore, and then FORGOT to get paid. This was before I realized that I and only I could tour manage this band. I thought I could let them conduct transactions in Norwegian. NO! So, when we played the same club in October, Claus mentioned, ‘oh yeah, I’ve never been paid for the show in May. I simply forgot’ Cue Steve Martin: ‘I simply FORGOT that speeding was against the law’. So, then, I had to reconstruct the whole deal, and convince the club that it was a great idea to give me several hundred euros based on the testimony of a MUSICIAN. It was a hard sell, but I managed to get it done.

Other than that, we have been just doing the job of making a great record, hanging out on the beat up couches of the studio, and offering healthy critiques/encouragement to the guy in the hot seat. I think we are making the record exactly as we envisioned it: based on our live show, with a minimum of overdubs…for most of the songs, there’s only ONE guitar going, not doubled, or tricked up. Check Van Halen’s first album for how that’s supposed to sound. Really, we sound much, much more like AC/DC than I ever imagined we would, and with our kind of ABBA melodies on top, I think it’s a stunning combo.

For singing, we tried a couple of different mics, settling on the new Neumann TLM49, their widest, fattest mic. Now, I’ve sung thru many a mic in my time (no, they are not giving it to me for free in exchange for this testimonial) but I had the impression to be hearing pure me back in the speakers, as opposed to the mic itself lend its characteristics like an effects pedal. It’s photo realistic reproduction, and I love it. I want one! I think they’re about $1200.

I tried to go Christmas shopping one day. Screw that. Me and 50,000 Norwegians all fighting over what was left—most places didn’t have the simple things I was looking for, and the line to ask a question or check out was 50 people deep. You know, there’s got to be a better way. I am going to divide up the calendar so everybody has Christmas on different days. Oh, yeah, that’s called your birthday. Now, Dec. 25, the one guy whose birthday it is doesn’t even get a present. It’s a retail cult, and I find it very alienating and unfun. Please don’t get me anything! I just want to see my girls, and I cannot. It’s a long story, but I think Dominique can at last come for New Year’s. That’s * if * she can get here—the French airport workers are on strike, and OSL is fogged in—no one is taking off, so there’s no room for incoming traffic either! We’ll see. I’ll be home in a couple of weeks, all else fails.

Next question: people, where are we mixing?

I guess I could have written a more heartwarming treatise on the nature of Christmas and the spirit of giving, but the papers will be full of them, and you don’t come to read this to hear things you could hear anywhere else, right? That’s why it’s a blog, and not an editorial. I do encourage that you give money to those who need it the most, and to not add to the global pile of half-functioning espresso machines. Send money to victims of disasters and wars (including our own). Drop some coins in the cup. It’s cold outside.

Love
KS
Oslo, NORWAY –well, Larvik now as I edit this!

12.15.2007

DRAWLING OSLOTS

I didn't mean to type that as my headline, but, it is too weird and wonderful a creature to just callously delete...so, take from it what you will.

Ok, last week I posted about our near miss with the flames, and the tone of the concern in response made very glad I have loving friends and readers, but also, I wanted to make sure if it wasn't clear that the fire was across the street in another building--my point being that a burning, potentially explosive building can never be too far away, and we were more than close enough to be potentially in danger. But, in the end, the pompiers (who get their headgear from the same planet as Daft Punk) did their job, and the damage was minimal, and certainly contained to the one building. Dom did meet the inhabitants of the burned flat on the street in the following days. Bad electrical panel. Lots of buildings have old electrical work, including ours, and updating it is horrendously expensive. I mean, less than buying a new flat--but, still.

I spent the week mixing Mateo's album, walking home in the freezing clear nights. As usual, with the long studio hours, the week slips by in quicksilver pacing, and suddenly you've got a pile of AIFF files and greasy hair, and a long beard, and you're tired as f**K and it's time to go to Finland, again! I think the stuff sounds fantastic, however! The last day was my second day of working on the most elaborate production, a song called "Love At First Sight" which had almost 100 tracks of audio--all kinds of bells and whistles. At about 10.30 on the last night we finished, and I mixed the most minimal recording--a song called "Let It Be the Day" that only has piano, guitar, and voice, all part of a live take. It's really powerful--maybe one of the most moving things I've recorded. We allowed no digital tomfoolery here, the vocals are exactly as we recorded them, everything on the ProTools is unbroken, contiguous file. No plug-ins. etc. And it's magical!

HELSINKI, 12/13

On Thursday I was up, I had packed Wednesday morning before the studio, I just needed to pretty myself up, and get picked up by the shuttle at 9. I was in a cafe across the street with Dom, having just been served a croissant, when the van came. They had called earlier and said they would be 15 minutes late, and they were about 14 minutes late--I was going to down my cafe and croissant in that minute, but, I abandoned the cafe and emporter'd the croissant. I got in the shuttle, at 9.15, for my 11.05 flight. OK, there were two passengers already on board, so I figured I must be the last stop and we would easily be at CDG by the recommended check in time of 10.05. But then we started to head south at a moment we should be making a beeline for the peripherique (you know, the singer of Jane's Addiction's sister). We ended up in the 7th arrondisement, picking up someone, in the shadow of the Eiffel Tour. We drove around L'Arc de Triomphe, in other words, we crossed all of Paris. And then got on the freeway-where one of the big overhead lit signs told us of an accident on the A1--and 30 minutes of travel time to CDG as a result. There's only one major freeway heading to the biggest airport in France from the biggest city in France. ?? I have a couple of choices in Seattle and some fairly big surface streets to choose from. Ah, old world. Or driver did his best, did some fancy lane changing, and got us there as quickly as he could. At 10.25, we were miles from our destination, and not moving. We got there at 11.10. I ran in and headed to the SAS check in counter. The cool thing about being the last guy to check in is that the line has already gone on to form at security, and you have the check in to yourself. He said my suitcase would make it on no problem, and I ran to the gate. I managed to get thru security with time to get a cafe. I texted my puzzled bandmates "the show is still on".

In Copenhagen, I had a 2 hour layover (even with our flight leaving late--they held it back til all the bags were loaded on -- now that's class). I did a phone interview with Radio Helsinki. For some reason, I suck at interviews when I'm on my cell phone. Don't ask me why. I mean, it was fine, but I thought of like 10 funny things to say afterwards, and at least 5 ways I could have explained our band more succinctly. And then I boarded, and got to Helsinki as darkness enveloped the north.

I cabbed directly to the venue, Kuudes Linja, which is in an old factory complex--Surprise! Anyway, I was at the front door, which is in back. I was *supposed* to go to the back door, which is of course in front of the building. Luckily, I met the always friendly Tomi Palsa on my way in, so I had someone to freeze with for awhile while we awaited rescue. And rescue appeared, with the accompanying dazzle of magnificence, that is Milla. Milla is not only a bona fide rock star herself (see: evidence here) but incredibly kind, generous, and a Disciplines believer. AND she writes songs and sings in one band, and plays drums in another, and she scuba dives. Woah! Next thing you know, you'll be telling me she works for the label of Hanoi Rocks and the Hellacopters, commuting by ferry each morning to a beautiful island with a recording studio on it. But, that would be too good to be true, right? More on that highly un-rhetorical query later.

The Kuudes Linja is perfect wooden box with a parallel bar, and it happens to be great sounding--plus, the band had gotten in a lot earlier than I did, so the soundcheck was done, really. I just confirmed what we already knew--that it was going to be a great night. And it kept getting better! Tomi gave us a lift to the hotel, the ultra chic Klaus K. We only had a little time, so I made myself as pretty as possible (I had a HUGE zit--the studio does that sometimes--but it was so huge, and awful and dark, it could be passed off as an exotic mole). We shot photos with Tomi in the lobby, and in the handicapped toilet. In the meanitme, Claus and I ordered room service (which the club was going to pay for!!) as the hotel restaurants were full and we didn't really have time for anything else. We met complete nutter and powerful journalist Otto T. in the lobby, he brought a friend to meet me, the friend being the host of Finland's biggest morning show--and evidently, like most Finnish people, quite a Posies fan!! Then Tomi gave us a lift to the venue, and handed me a CD of great photos of the acoustic Posies show last month. I put a bunch of them up on the Posies' myspace. When we arrived, there weren't too many people there, but, Finnish rock time is always late, so I retreated to the dressing room to write the set and not worry aobut attendance. It's never been a problem in Finland, so...ah, I also ate some chocolate. It started to get busy. The DJs were playing great music--Judee Sill, et al. When I snuck out to put the set lists on stage and chuck a box of 45s up there, it was getting more full--and then, it was showtime. Milla had suggesthttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifed we wait til 11.15, but at 11.05 a guy came in and said "ready". So, we hopped up, and seamlessly launched into "Children of the Sea". And, so on--a great show--frightenly professional, esp. in contrast to the chaotic show we played in Berlin the week before (tho that was great too in its own category). And, like at our Oslo show in October, the audience started out polite, and by the end the people were LOSING it. Jumping up and down..a guy HUGGED me when I went in the crowd. It was like I was Andrew W.K.! We had to do the "Flavor of the Month" encore--and we had no more (ready for live) songs! I sold the ENTIRE box of singles--people even gave me money and their address in order that I would mail them the single when I got back to Oslo (which I did this morning!). I had chatted with Lasse from Lemonator before the show, I knew that we were up against some serious competition--Jonna Tervomaa was doing her last big show before a long break. Jonna is a friend, and a great singer and performer, and really one of the more popular and credible artists in Finland, so, many people were torn about which show to go to. I saw Jonna and her band (including the drummer from the formidable organ and drums duo Nieminen and Litmanen in 2005, and she was incredible. And I don't even get the words! As she sings in Finnish. Oh, to summarize: the Disciplines' Finnish debut was a great, great show, and I think we'll be spending lots of time there in future!

After the show we went to the headache-inducing bar "Lost and Found" where all the rockers in Finland go when they've already had enough. It was surprisingly mellow on this occasion, but got progressively more full, starting about 1.30. We had already snagged the catbird seat, and were hobnobbing with fans from the show, and Milla and her super cool bandmate Alex. After the show, Alex had approached me and wanted to tell me something. I was dreading another Florian-style lecture on our similarities to Bon Jovee (like that's a bad thing!--you give love a bad name, Florian!) but he just wanted to tell me that evidently we had spoken on the phone--in the middle of the Posies acoustic set in 2000...!! Anyway, we had a great time, and I caught up with Jonna, and a few other people I hadn't seen in a long time--including a guy who sang with the odd Finnish choir that played at the Holland Lowlands Festival in 1996! At 3, I went back to our hotel and watched the Simpsons Movie...I didn't want to get too drunk and two glasses of wine were starting to affect my 64kg. framework (esp. the mainframe).

The next morning I had breakfast with Bjorn--it was now his birthday, the sneaky devil! Klaus K had cloudberry jam as part of their spread! And, they claimed to be offering jam made from Buckthorn--which I doubt, as it's poisonous (or, at least, in small doses, a powerful purgative). And then Milla, who *didn't* leave Lost and Found when I did, met me, and we walked in the weak northern sunshine to the harbor, and boarded a ferry to go to her office. Yep, she works for record label/recording studio, in a heritage building (a former army barracks, but a nice one!) on a gorgeous little island a 15-minute ride from downtown Helsinki. Insane! I raided the fridge to make lunch, and listened to some rough mixes of her album, and met some of her coworkers, and then hopped back to the city and got back to the hotel in time to do the late checkout (the rock and roll fan at the front desk made our movie and internet bill disappear--and the club paid the room service, so my total bill was a one euro call to Milla). We had a big van come and pick us up, and we got to the airport to find our flight was leaving an hour late. No worries--we hung out in a cafe. Flew to Oslo, and went straight into the studio to start setting up for the Disciplines album. I was tired and beat up--oh, I forgot, I totally chipped my tooth during the show! After the show I had another piece of chocolate and thought there was a jagged piece of hazelnut stuck to my top left incisor. It wouldn't go away...and then I realized...I chipped my tooth on the mic! I never even hit it that hard! Oh well. You can see it if you look closely, but, I count it as a totally worthy memento of a great night.

Back in Oslo we were setting up gear and mic'ing up the instruments, with our engineer Jon Marius Aareskjold--who has lately been recording Beyoncé--I kid you not! I was pretty much unable to move, I was in so much pain in my thighs from my James Brown splits that I had to have a BEER. I went to my flat afterwards and fell asleep on my computer.

I was up this morning at 11, so I think I slept 8 or 9 hours, and there's nothing like a Norwegian blast of cold to make you alert (or, more likely, kill you dead and leave you like a desiccated pile of rags). I took my time to get to the studio (upholding the grand tradition of lead singers), taking the number 12 tram downtown. I did my grocery shopping for the week (turns out they have blanc de dinde here too--it's called 'kalkunbrysst'). And we started to make our record!

We are working on drums and bass--it's going really easy, as we've been playing the songs live for a year now, so--we are more than ready. For each song, we go out and rehearse live, and then Claus plays the drums on his own from memory. Where? At our rehearsal place. Yes, we looked at many options, and decided the best sound, the sound that sounds like we sound, was captured authentically at our humble rehearsal studio. Jon Marius brought in some equipment, and we got a box of microphones from our live sound engineer, augmented with my Shinybox ribbon mics. We're at home, and it sounds HUGE. Already. It's very much like AC/DC crossed with the Strokes. Yes, it is! It's way better than ANY MUSIC EVER RECORDED EVER.

At least it is in that moment! I probably won't say too much about the recording, unless you ask me too--I want it to be a little surprising, so, in my mind, the record should say everything about us you need to know, and everything about our trajectory you need to understand.

On that note, I will sleep for awhile--

Love
KS
Oslo, NORWAY

12.09.2007

BANG, BURN.

Saturday night, I flew home from Berlin (see below). I cabbed home, the driver leaving the freeway to avoid a traffic jam that had brought us to a standstill; working our way via surface streets from the Porte d’Italie, I was home just after 8. Dom had no luck finding a babysitter for Saturday night, so we stayed in. One by one, we dropped off to bed. I watched Kurosawa’s Rashomon on DVD, until it finished at about 12.30. I looked forward to a good rest; I wasn’t due in the studio til noon on Sunday, and thus I could sleep 8 hours and still have time to have a Sunday brunch with my family. I listened for the sound of Aden’s breathing in the night, against the background of chatter from the busy cafes below. At one point she had a nightmare and yelped, but didn’t wake up—but I woke up, for a second, and then was deeply asleep again.

Dom woke me up. She was already busy assessing, preparing. I quickly came around and realized the severity of the situation. A familiar scorched plastic fume filled the air. It was the smell of a burning building. Directly across the small passage from us, on the same floor as our flat, smoke was billowing out the window that our windows look out on. The passage between us was just two car’s width across—so the building was probably only 15-20 feet away. Sounds far, but pace it out and imagine it on fire. It’s not that far. Our flat smelled awful, and quickly the smoke became so intense I could not see the building anymore, it was completely shrouded. Out the backside, flames erupted. Evil fireflies--embers and cinders, twirled in the air, menacing our flat. Time to go. I had laid out clean clothes for the morning, so I donned them. I never fully unpack a small black nylon handbag (a gift from REM’s promoter in Japan), so it was ready to go with essentials; I just added my shaving kit. I packed my computer and took all of our cash, and we dressed Aden, grabbed coats and left. We had knocked on all the doors, to alert the neighbors, seeing if anyone needed help getting downstairs. The streets were blocked off with a full battalion of pompiers. The gas company came to shut off lines (we shut off our gas valve before we left). Luckily, it had rained earlier—our building would be that much more resistant to the fire jumping across the street. And, it was no longer raining, so we weren’t getting soaked. We saw people in their bathrobes out on the street. We walked to a nearby hotel, upwind from the smoke. It was fully booked. The desk clerk called around and we found a room at another hotel just a few minutes walk from our place. I felt terrible sadness for the people in the building. We passed by our place on the way from the first hotel to the second, and adding to the strange mood was a screaming woman in her window, just kitty corner from our place, threatening to jump, with the already heavily taxed police trying to talk her down. Oddly, she was only on the second floor, but she was certainly in severe distress and adding to the general mood of disturbance. Our Passage was taped off. The street leading to our corner was taped off. Traffic was diverted away from the main street nearby. And, the vipers were already out: a guy came up and asked us a few questions while we stood on the corner—casing the buildings, it seemed.

OSLO, 12/2

I slept in for the first time in weeks, remember? It was fantastic. A Sunday should imply some rest, no? I had lunch with Sarah from the Revolver HQ, at like 3.30, and took the tram to Café Mono/central Oslo. Claus and I had dinner with Ragnar, who is one of our booking agents for Norway, planning Disciplines events for 2008. And then, I made my way down to Mono. Jon arrived, we sorted out the complicated payment methods for Norway, to divvy up the money from Saturday’s show, and we went on. The crowd was pretty sparse, esp. considering the night before was sold out, but I know from experience that Saturday night is pretty much a devastating experience (at its best!) in Oslo, and it’s mighty hard to get people out on a Sunday. Having said that, there were people there, and they were a great audience, and in a weird way, I thought this show was even better than Saturday’s show. We played lots of unusual songs (and worked in ‘Christmas’, the Fuzzy-funneled chestnut season chestnut). We did our best with bits of “Dancing Queen” etc. It really was more funny to play our own stuff, and tell our own jokes. Anyway, I will give the weekend a superb thumbs up!

I had a last drink after our 2.5 hour set, and headed back to the flat (Hans Jørgen, my flatmate, came to the show and had a very good time from the look of it). At 5, Claus picked me up and took me to the airport—he and Nanna and their architect (!!) were headed to Sweden to look at materials for their renovation (otherwise, I’d be at Claus and Nanna’s place all this time! but I do love my new address!).

I flew back to Paris, and went more or less straight into mixing Mateo’s album, which we’ve been working on since summer. Mixing, plus I threw a keyboard part on one song; had a guy come and play a cuica on another. A cuica is best known as a component of Brazilian music, tho’ its origins are African. It’s basically a coffee can with a drumhead, in the center of which is a metal post going into the can; you reach in and rub the post with an oily rag, and it squeaks when you have the right amount of friction (OK, stop laughing!)—the drum head and coffee can amplify it. It sounds like talking, or hooting, or, it can make animal sounds ranging from a wildcat growl to a tropical bird call. So, the days in the studio as usual shot by as I worked on getting mixes accomplished—pretty much working, sleeping, and trying to catch up on a few emails at night and a little shopping in the morning. Although I spent one morning using a rotary sander to remove paint from the door to my rental flat’s bathroom—the painter had been a bit too liberal in his application, and the door would no longer shut. It does now!

BERLIN, 12/7

On the 7th I re-blacked the tresses and organized the fringe with Patrick at Toni & Guy in Bastille; and went directly to the airport. Upon landing at Schönefeld, I emerged and was greeted by the lovely Mila, of “Fucking Pop” fame. We went straight to the venue, the venerable (yes, but the toilets * are * clean) Bang Bang Club—my guys navigated their way their eventually as well (after prob. $40 worth of calls on to my US phone!). We had quite a bit of time to wait around for things to happen, so we had a little meeting; and I met BBC’s fine staff—Ben, Marie, Ollie (Ollie is one of the owners and tonight was doing live sound for the bands!). I used their computer for email. Soon, we met Claudia—who I knew only on email. She had written to me about using a song in the film, her first feature length work, she’s making right now. I of course was honored, and suggested we meet just for meeting’s sake when I came to Berlin next (she missed the Bassy show, having just come from Jakarta, and not up on the dates of cultural events at home!). As it turns out, Claudia is a total gem, just a great person all around. She even put me up in her spare room—an impromptu query I made at 3am after the show—we were all booked in a Pension that would have us all in one room; the guys had to be out of there at 8 for their flight back to Oslo, and I would have been out on the street at check out time (11 in this case). As they had to get up early, they were ready to go early-ish (it’s all relative when a party is scheduled to end at 8am), and I wanted to hang at the Bang for more face time with my Berlin friends and new fans. So, I sort of looked at Claudia, and said what you say when you write it like this: “…?” and she took me in. I was able to sleep in til 1, and have great company besides. Her b.f. Paul is a musician and a delightful chap as well. Between Claudia, Paul and a good long chat with my friend Reza, I felt totally invigorated by my Berlin visit—and this is even counting the show! So, let’s talk about that.

We were sloppy as hell. And unknown. However, in about 30 seconds, the crowd, which had been content to watch Hans Unstern (who has a fantastic accordion player, and had to revamp his set since his lead guitarist had badly knifed his own hand that day—I didn’t hear if it was accidental or not), was dancing, like on a 60s Beat Club set, and life was good. People jumped onstage to say bizarre things, offer me beer, and in general, we went over like a house on fire. I know, I know…Indie is as Indie is, and we are perhaps more…populist? Classic? Conventional? Than some, but, I think we transcend the limits—in fact, you could say that’s my mission. And it worked—we came, we blazed, and we thanked everyone in sight—and people loved it.

After show, I ducked down to the basement bar for a long chat with Reza—he is the manager for IAMX, and managed to organize a sold-out US tour without so much as a release there. So, interesting to talk to, and a lovely person. So, I sort of missed out on the selling a few vinyls, shake a few hands kind of things. When I came upstairs, in fact, a young bespectacled boy named Florian told me that we in fact “sucked”.
I told him that I receive many demos from many people each month, many of which are out of tune, immature, amateur, whatever—and I have never told anyone they “sucked”. I always gave constructive advice or criticism, and in the end, who I am to say anything about something somebody is doing when they believe in it. He countered and told me that he didn’t think I was sincere—that I was just doing what I was doing “for the money”. What money? Well, I spent quite a bit of time talking to him. I didn’t dislike him, but I found some of his arguments circular/specious etc. He was friends with the next band (who were great, and lovely people), The Audience. He said “they’ve been doing the same thing for 6 years—have you?” As if to say, I was jumping on a bandwagon, and their persistence was a sign of integrity. I just don’t think like Florian. I totally believe in what I do, and I believe in experimentation, change, and in the end…’going for it’ and fuck the torpedoes. I am expressly populist with the Disciplines. I want the message to be accessible to all. For my more esoteric leanings, there’s my solo albums, and the more Baroque moments of the Posies. I have always done exactly what I was inspired to do—and I think the commercial results speak for themselves—my successes are what they are, but they are not a (well-managed) campaign for chart domination. And hey, success and musical integrity are two different things. Critics adore (as do I) Feist—and she’s had songs in tons of commercials, and a charting single and album. Tons of hacks with total dreams of stardom audition for “Star Academy”, and * don’t * become famous, or even make it thru the door. You can be in it ‘for the money’ and never get there; you can have no commercial intentions at all, and suddenly find yourself Kurt Cobain. It has occurred to me that Florian may have been protective of his friends, and jealous that we were received well (tho’ music is not a competition). He may just a person with really negative views of the relation between art and humanity. He may be right. But, it won’t change my approach. Not one bit. Thanks, Florian, but you don’t own the intellectual high ground. You have a perspective, and it’s just that—an opinion, that has informed a perspective. And, something tells me that someone whose first words to a performer are “your band sucks” has some personality issues. It is not a sign of integrity to hurt others. It is perhaps a show of my own integrity that I took 15 minutes to listen to you, understand you, and not tell you get lost. Think about it. I welcome more discussion with you anytime.

Read a great review of the show in German/view photos here

******************************

Today we went back to our flat. It was fine; the smoke from the other building didn’t make our place uninhabitable. In fact, the burnt building was mostly intact—from the front you could hardly tell what had happened. There were pages and pages from books scattered about the street, charred around the edges, like when you make a faux-medieval manuscript/pirate treasure map. When we looked at the back of the building, you could see the evil stain of toxic smoke above the windows of the ruined flat. And incredibly, there were piles and piles of books. Comic books. Travel books. Ordinary, mostly. Sheet Music. School textbooks. All had been ejected from the flat—that was the primary fuel for the blaze. I would say there are easily enough books from the burnt flat to fill a construction dumpster.

On my way home from the studio I saw a few singed pages stuck to the wet sidewalk some 30 meters from the building. One was a series of exercises from a German language workbook; one depicted an Aztec pyramid. I returned to my flat deeply aware of the fragility of life, and grateful for the health and safety of my family and friends.

Love
KS
Paris

12.05.2007

Tons of new photos up in the photos section--KS & Subterfuge in Germany & Austria, Posies in Spain/France, and more.

Love
KS
Paris

12.02.2007

INBEDDED

I haven't had a day that could be considered remotely restful in so long I have forgotten what to do with it. So far, I am in bed, and blogging. I haven't gotten up to eat, caffeinate or anything...no plans to move in the near future.

On Monday, all was calm and going well. My shuttle arrived to pick me up--I was the only passenger in a bus bound for ZRH. Check in, a breeze--they decided to forgo charging me for excess weight even tho' technically I was over the limit. I spent my remaining Swiss francs on Swiss chocolate for the family. Security, passport control, all easy. Got myself out to the gate, and found the flight was running behind. Well, what can you do. But, by the time we left, it was 45 minutes or more behind schedule, and of course, this sets in motion a series of cascading booboos. I found that on the flight to Vienna, that we were already on the same plane that would be taking us to Paris. So, I knew it would be just as late, and I would make it...however, I knew that the passengers and luggage had to go thru the same motions as before, meaning, the plane had to be emptied and reloaded. Chances my stuff would make it: slim to none. My chances of making it: good if I hustled. So, we deplaned, were bused to the terminal, and, one of my pet peeves--transfer passengers, who have already been screened that day, are made to go thru security again. So, I ran, with my belt in my hand, and got to the gate just as we were loaded onto a bus and I was taken exactly where I came from. And we flew to Paris, the last flight in to Terminal 3 at CDG. The good thing is, Terminal 3 is really small, so you get your bags right away...IF they come off the plane. Incredibly, my guitar made it. My suitcase came as well, but 2 days later. And I left about 9 hours after arriving. Consolation prize: for being an Alaska Airlines MVP Gold, they sent me a box of delicious cookies. And Dom & I ate Swiss chocolate in bed.

HELSINKI, 11/27

Blue Shuttle is quite a bit cheaper than going by cab to CDG but they have an annoying habit of showing up earlier than the time you booked, and putting pressure on you to adjust accordingly so they can get the other passengers etc. Well, my phone rang at 7.35, fully 40 minutes ahead of the time I booked online (and verified by checking my order online). I mean, who is ready 40 minutes ahead of schedule in the morning? They agreed to come back, but they were still 10 minutes early--I need every possible second in the morning. Plus, I had to build a travel kit from scratch--find a replacement razor, contact lenses and fluid, shampoo, deodorant, a toothbrush, floss, etc etc -- luckily we have ample backup for situations like this--I needed some cables for my guitar, and some CDs to sell...I packed a change of clothes, and all of this went into a small bag that Dom dug out of the closet for me. For backup toothpaste, I grabbed Aden's Shrek toothpaste! Knowing her habits, I doubted it would be missed...

so, these flights went ontime, I was very nervous about connecting flights at this point--no backup this time, tho I stuffed everything that wasn't liquid into my computer bag. All was OK. Lenny, the promoter in Helsinki, picked me up at the airport, and we stopped in the hotel long enough to get my key, and proceeded straight to Tavastia (Posies/Lemonator '96, Posies '98, acoustic Posies '00, White Flag '02, KS '04, Posies/Latebirds/video shoot '05) and set up, soundchecked, rehearsed a few things. Jon & I worked out a set over dinner, and I stayed at the venue to check emails, and suddenly it was time to 'do it'. And it was done! Despite a few hilarious senior moments when the words just wouldn't come, we blazed, a mostly effortless 2.5 hours...I think our encore alone was like 8-10 songs. About 250-300 people were singing along and not letting us go! As always, Finnish friends like Lasse from Lemonator, photo wizard Tomi Palsa, etc were along. We were onstage at 9--and it was suddenly 2am when I walked back to the hotel and checked some final emails before going to sleep.

LONDON, 11/28

I was left wanting for a massive slab of smoked salmon at the Hotel Presidentti breakfast spread--but anyway, I had bigger fish to fry--I needed a new book, having finished the excellent Kornwolf the day before. Now there's a huge mall in between the Hotel Presidentti and Tavastia, so I managed, in like 15 minutes, to have a macchiato, lunch, and grab from the reasonable selection of English books (it took me the longest time to find the word 'bookstore' in Finnish) a huge slab of intricate wordplay--Thomas Pynchon's 'Against the Day'...like Kornwolf's just-enough-of-a-step-back-to-let-the-irony-write-itself view of the Amish, Against the Day so far plays a similar rube ruse on the 19th century (for a an extremely well done similar stance on 1920s attitudes and language being wielded unironically by a character to again, let the irony write itself, see the film 'Man of the Century').

Anyway, Jon & I were picked up by an enormous airporter van, for which the club had provided a one-shot debit card--after the ride/swipe, the driver breaks it in half and gives you half of the card with your receipt. Our flight was ontime, no hassles with check in, and we arrived in Stockholm with ample time to make the (rather distant) gate. Now, originally, we had booked an early morning flight, which would have gotten us into London (with the advantage of 2 time zone changes) in the morning. Dominique was coming in to spend the day with me. But, SAS changed their schedule, and luckily Jon got an email notification--I didn't! And noticed that the new time of departure from Finland got us in to Helsinki after our connecting flight was taking off. So he rebooked, and told me the story, so when I was rehearsing with Subterfuge in Düsseldorf, I was able to call SAS's German number and get myself on the same flight. Now we were landing at about 5pm, which meant two things--I wouldn't be spending the day with Dom, and there was pretty much no way we could do a soundcheck. OK. I told the club the scoop, and anyway I knew the Disciplines full band check at the Borderline (KS '01, KS '04, Disciplines '07) took like 10 minutes so surely, two voices and two amps could be done almost instantaneously as we were going on.

Our flight from Stockholm was actually a little late out of the gate (I said: good, more time for our stuff to get loaded on) and we landed at about 5.20 at Heathrow. It didn't take us too long to get our bags and have our work permits approved, and we jumped on the standing Heathrow Express and raced in to town. We wolfed down sandwiches at Paddington, and then grabbed a cab for the Borderline. I did the standard London cab things: I came around to the window and told the cabbie where we were going, and he knew the place. Now, help me out here, and tell me what I did wrong. Jon & I loaded in our stuff--two guitars, Jon's huge suitcase, my little temp bag, and our two computer cases, into the cab (did we have too much stuff? Isn't that normal for people getting picked up at Paddington, a large number of which are coming from Heathrow?). When we were on the little Soho Street I spotted the arch that is right by the club--I said 'ah, you can let us off here if you like'--and he said, irrelevantly, and with venom: "you see the sign that says no left turn? Well, that's exactly what I'm following". Oh. "I didn't say turn, I said stop". "well, you should have said so a long time before". "Sorry, I didn't realize where we were until that point". "I thought I'd take you around so you could be dropped off right in front". "You're right, sorry--carry on". So, I guess, we crossed a line by leaving the sacred "INDICATE YOUR PREFERRED ITINERARY IN ADVANCE" zone. We arrived, and I came around to the window; Jon hopped out and started to move the stuff. He was waiting for a car to pass before coming around for another load--the stuff was leaning on the door closest to the kerb, so he had to come to the outside door. I said I'd need a receipt--and the cabbie said "I'm not stopping the meter until you get the rest of your stuff out of my cab--it's going to be a lot more than £11." Again, I apologized, and helped Jon get the stuff out with tremendous urgency. It took all of ten seconds. I was pleased to find the fare still at 11. "that's cuz I stopped the meter". "well, sir, thank you that was kin--""no it was bloody stupid" I handed him exact change--he said something strange about "legal money" and told me to have a "shit night". It is my conclusion that he is just a "cunt".

We entered, and things were just opening up at the Borderline--I put my stuff in the dressing room and saw Dom's coat on the hook, and soon she strolled in, and we hugged and kissed. I said hello to Dawn Landes and Malcom from Tape the Radio (TV on the Tapes N Tapes?), who were loaning us our amps; I secured use of Malcom's tuner (Lasse had lent me his in Helsinki--mine was to arrive in Paris the next day). I checked email backstage, but had so many that I sort of gave up and tried to just relax before the show. Showtime already--the place had filled up, at least a couple of hundred people and the place doesn't hold much more. And they were nutters, I tell you--they were so into it, and we were so ready for it, with one show rehearsal under our belts, and I was so, post-asshole-cabbie/insane travel/three-legged-dog-using-his-daughter's-Shrek-toothpaste beyond the pale that I was able to just deliver--our timing, singing, playing, interaction and jokes were spot on, and the people were going insane. I think this in many ways was our best London show to date. I dedicated "Solar Sister" to Dom, "who looks like my sister". Gross!

After the show, our crew of pals went to a little Italian social club, i.e. a basement afterhours bar--Dom's old boss from V2 was there--for a coupla drinks, and then we cabbed it to Duncan's place (where we had just stayed during the Disciplines visit, and where much hell was raised by the Posies in '05). Dom crashed, I checked emails, and never slept--I snuggled Dom for an hour or two and then we headed to the airport--at 4.30am!!! We had pre-booked a cab to take us there, for £50--a lifesaver. I managed to sleep in the cab a little, and then we checked in. Something about Gatwick--fluorescent lights, dazed 6am travellers, crummy croissant in plastic wrap, squished; racks of Posh Spice autobiographies (as in -nography)--was so depressing. No sleep. We never saw the sun--it was night from the time we landed thru the time we walked out on the tarmac, in the pissing rain, to head to France.

TOULOUSE (LABÉGE), 11/29

Not enough time to sleep on the plane, I was weak-kneed when we landed at Blagnac. We were met by Sophie, from the Diagora, the unusual venue (KS '07) we were to play that night. Essentially, my friend Eric, with whom I had just worked, as a producer for his band Palace of Sin, works at a convention center in a zone industriale outside Toulouse, and was given the go-ahead to put on shows in their little rotonde. I love culturally enriched Europe! You'd get fired for even writing an email discussing a similar possibility in the States. So, Sophie, who is a terrifying driver, took us to our little apartment hotel next door to the place, and I chilled, ironed my threads, emailed until I could email no more, et cetera. I took a long bath. I was coming around. The team, including Eric and Paul from P.o.S., took us to lunch at a brasserie across the street. I didn't, for whatever reason, nap. I *wanted* to be good and tired after the show. We did our soundcheck; I did the usual tuner-begging from the support act (although in this case, it was a more primitive one than the Boss stompbox to which I am accustomed--I connected it to the preamp output, since it only had an input and no throughput, but would not be able to cut the sound while I was tuning). We had dinner with everyone at the same brasserie, and finally, headed over to the show. People had come from Bordeaux and Angouleme for the show--a small but very dedicated crowd hustled out to Labége. The night before, the BBC was reporting that Toulouse was burning in the latest riots. I had asked everyone what was going on and they hardly knew about it. They scoffed. I said "but I heard they burned down a public library!" Everyone: "oh...yeah, they did, didn't they? Hmmp!" (shrug/smile). !!

Anyway, we played and had the deluxe production that only the A/V team at a trade show center could provide--psychedelic twirling lights projected on a kind of tent-thingy that was behind us. We did a wicked version of "Coming Right Along" where Jon & I alternated verses--just guitar and voice V1, just piano and voice V2. We honored Eric's request for "Chainsmoking in the USA".

After the show we were supposed to DJ til 2am, but as we finished at midnight, by the time we sold a few CDs, the place was totally empty. Eric was so happy with the show that he tried to give me his Epiphone flying Vee that I used for some of the set when I broke a string. I told him to sleep on it (damn!). The bar staff opened up the unsold plates of food--assorted viandes sechees, cheese, and a cafe/chocolate tart that was pure evil (meaning, good). We cochoned out

The team wanted to go for a last drink at the newly reopened Bikini Club (the old club was where the Posies played in '96--the club was blasted off the side of a cliff in a huge chemical plant explosion in 2001). Judging from my thrashed state, and judging by the fact that Eric was trying to give me his guitar for free (he gave me two rolls of gaffer tape, too), I thought it safer to head to bed. Good call!

PARIS, 11/30

Jon was so tired that he went to bed, forgetting that his guitar was still in the hall outside his door. It was still there in the morning. Not too much action going on at the apart-hotel in Labége. A nice taxi was there to take us to the airport, and we did our thing, and guess what: our flight left more than an hour late. What the?? We were already cutting it close with soundcheck as it was; now we would have to really boot scoot. We cabbed in to town, and pulled up to Remi from Cheap Star's place, where jon was staying; Remi met us downstairs, took Jon's suitcase and loaned Jon his little amplifier, and delivered Jon some CDs he had mailed himself (he had already mailed some of *those* to the Diagora!). We stopped by my place and made an executive decision not to change cabs and take my huge keyboard to the show. I went up, grabbed my tuner and my amp, dropped my bag, got some merch, etc., kissed Aden and mamie Claudette (Dom's mom, who had repaired my tie, which I put on!), etc and ran back down, and we headed up to La Fleche D'or (KS '07), just a little late for our 4pm soundcheck. Or not. There was a furious electro band soundchecking very loudly. Until 5. Marie from LFD: "Ah, yes, you soundcheck at 5. We probably told you 4!". Yes, you did. Oh well. I had a cafe and checked email. Axe Riverboy soon arrived--yes, that's Xavier from Tahiti 80, my friend and neighbor (who headlined the last time I played LFD). He had agreed to support us, and not only that, he and his band learned our versions of "O-o-h Child" and "Song of A Baker". Great! Aden and Dom arrived, and Aden brought her little keyboard to help with soundcheck. I pointed out to Dom that instead of the keyboard's power supply, she had brought the charger for her cell phone and the power supply for her old Compaq laptop. I was laughing until the Compaq thing actually worked. So Aden and I jammed for a bit, and then I borrowed the synth band, Principles of Geometry,--this is the band whose cover art was banned by Itunes--'s Juno-106 and we rehearsed the two covers. Tahiti 80 curated a comp. in Japan that featured our "O-o-h". Dom took Aden home (LFD is too crowded, loud and smoky and the backstage is small, dirty, and not easily accessible--I saw a mouse there last time!). The shows at LFD are almost always free, so by the time Axe was on, there were something like 300 people there. People had come from Germany & Japan to see this show! Our set was a brief by our standards one hour and ten, including the two covers (which rocked! I was jumping up and down like an idiot, and Julien from AR is beast on the skins). We sold tons of CDs (and the Amazing Disgrace vinyl Carsten had found for me). And then the electro part of the evening started--Principles of G.'s soundcheck was promising (and they were super nice) but whoever went on before them was pretty average electro. So, we cabbed it home, dropped my stuff, and reassembled at Le Motel for a round or two, and then went to bed. I saw a mega rat on the way home...in Paris, that's your power animal.

OSLO, 12/1

Reunited with my stuff, I was able to take the proper things for our weekend trip to Norway. Why is it that when your bags are late, they go thru this extra process of being gang raped by meth'ed-up grizzly bears? My contact lens solution had fully emptied itself in my shaving kit, and caused a chain reaction, melting several hundred Rennie tablets in my stuff. Gross! Oh well. At least it all came. As did, presumably, the grizzly bears. Narf.

Yadda yadda, our flight left an hour late, yadda yadda. I don't even care anymore. We landed, took the train into Oslo, and Claus & Baard Discipline picked us up; we grabbed Bjorn Discipline's amp and guitar, and went to soundcheck, late as usual, but it didn't matter (even tho' the club is supposed to be open in the afternoon and they were holding the doors for us). I went to my new flat! A friend of a friend has an extra room, where I'll be staying for the Disciplines' recording session. Very nice he is to take me in! Emails: done. Then I had dinner with Baard, Claus, and some other friends...and then proceeded on down to Cafe Mono (KS '06, Disciplines '07 x 2) for our SOLD OUT* SHOW there. It was great! How could it not be? Again, we were ready, and everyone was willing. Huzzah! I was aglow, with the free glass of Tokaji from the server at the restaurant, who is coming to tonight's show!). We did 'King Midas in Reverse' for the encore. And told the audience to write the next night's set on the back of a poster and give it to us for literal replay (it starts, I believe, with 'Dancing Queen'). So, we'll see...

I arrived pretty late back to my flat--stopping off at my HQ, Revolver, for the obligatory glass of water!--and there was a raging party happening. I had half a glass of champagne, stepped over the guy passed out in the hall, and went to bed! And there I remain, at 1.30 on Sunday afternoon.

If you are in Oslo and are unconvinced about coming to the show tonight (we're on at 22h)--I assure you, we will astonish you with versions of "Eye of the Tiger' and whatever else is on that list. And some Posies songs, perhaps!

Love
KS
Oslo NORWAY

*incredibly, Gogol Bordello and Kent also had sold out shows in different, bigger venues last night. And the National has a show tonight that's been bumped up from a 500 cap. club to a 1500 cap. club--and yet, I am not worried in the slightest. Evidently, there's enough Norwegians to go around.

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!!!