Ken Stringfellow dot calm

2.27.2008

CHECK THE DISCIPLINES FEATURETTE ON NORWEGIAN TV HERE!

CHECK GREAT REVIEW ON LES INROCKS.COM OF KS PARIS SHOW HERE!

We blazed thru our mixing session, managing to get all 15 songs we recorded done in our three day mixing stint. On Sunday morning we met with Joakim from 1UP, who is doing the graphics for the Norway release (we have also commissioned Blue Screen of Death to do a package, for the release elsewhere—we’ll mix and match to suit!). We received via various FTP avenues a bunch of tracks from the Super Ratones in Buenos Aires—vocal harmonies, guitar parts, keyboard parts—they contributed things to three of the songs, and quite a few tracks of audio, so importing it was a fairly big project—we had three laptops on the case! Monday, the last day, was typical, in that, in order to get everything done, [is this a sentence or a grocery shopping list—what’s with all the commas?—ed.] Jon Marius and I worked from something like 10 Monday morning, until about 2-2.30 Tuesday morning. But we managed to attend to every song, and the mixes sound incredible—it really became a record in these three days. After the session, Jon Marius and I walked in towards Grunerlokke, and we parted ways, me going to my lodgings. I slept for perhaps an hour. I got up around 4, and ate the rest the food I had in the fridge. My hosts were of course sound asleep. I tried to call a taxi but it was impossible for me to follow the menu in Norwegian, so I grabbed my stuff and headed out into the night—In February, there is no sign that daylight will be coming at 4.45am—I guess it gets light around 8.30. Where I was staying is a residential neighborhood, mostly—except for the massive Freia chocolate factory next door—so I had to walk about 5-10 minutes, rolling my computer bag behind me with my small black bag on top, to the square around which there are bars and cafes, to find a street where taxis were likely to be taxiing, and found one and headed to the train station. I already had a ticket for the airport express, which I was surprised to find was absolutely packed when I boarded at 5.25. In fact, Gardermoen was completely buzzing with passengers this morning. In fact, tho I arrived an hour ahead of my flight, the security line etc. ensured I had just enough time to buy a newspaper, gulp some espresso, and board my flight home—the flight allowing me two more hours of sleep.

PARIS, 2.19

Of course, it’s great to arrive early in the morning, and realize you have the entire day to do things—as tired as I was, I knew I had to be organized. I attended a Pilates class, and as soon as it was done I headed on the metro to soundcheck at La Boule Noire. La Boule Noire is dark wooden box next to La Cigale. It doesn’t look like much. Wooden benches run along the wall, and that’s it as far as seats. There’s a tiny bar at the back. Very tacky wall decorations—like, if Degas had designed a kind nudie wallpaper/50s lampshade with a rock & roll/biker theme. This contrasting this beautiful wooden floor, painted black, that certainly has been trod upon my a century’s worth of patrons.

The event tonight was the record release for the Delano Orchestra, from Clermont-Ferrand. I played with them when I did my show in C-F a couple of years ago, a great night that was chronicled in this blog. The band is fronted by one Alex, who sings so delicately that it’s a wonder a microphone diaphragm would even wobble in his presence. I had learned two songs on piano from his album, and they learned “The Lovers’ Hymn” and “Fireflies”. We ran thru the stuff, they had done their homework better than I had, I had to admit. But, everything sounded good. It’s true I was so exhausted that while they were line checking the instruments, I fell asleep on one of the long benches, earplugs in, for like 20 minutes. After the check, we had a quick photo session for Les Inrocktibles, and I took the metro home. It was a busy Tuesday in Paris—Greg Dulli and Mark Lanegan’s new band was playing in town—my friend Ben who works for their label texted me that Greg was hoping to see me, but it was going to be impossible. My friend Tim, who was in the superb Memphis band Snowglobe, was in town with Oh No Oh My. And my friend Patrick, with whom I’ve had some fantastic nights in Montreal, was in town with a night off with his band Les Breastfeeders. Patrick was able to come to the show, but my other friends were playing at various venues across town—and there were other big shows that night too. So, in the end, the Delano Orch. show was not so crowded. Poor fellas. I felt bad as I was a rather well-paid special guest (but not so bad, it seems, that I didn’t take their label’s check). However, from a musical point of view it was a great evening—I played decently on the two songs of theirs I learned—one having a lengthy piano intro that was my responsibility. That was the end of their set—and the encore was a short set by/with me. Which I’m sure must have been very strange for the crowd! I played “Reveal Love” by myself, then the band came on and we played an excellent version of “Fireflies”, then they stayed in place while I did most of the “Lover’s Hymn”, coming in for a long jam at the end. And that was it—but it was really, really well done.

I urge you to pick up Delano Orchestra's new album "A Little Girl, A Little Boy and All the Snails they have Drawn"...it is most beautiful, ghostly and perfect.

Afterwards, Pat, Dom & I went for a drink at the bar that Pat’s band was playing later on the tour. I was so beat up from my long travel that I had to call it after my one glass of wine, and on to bed.

On Wednesday, I went out to Le Showcase to see Nada Surf, stopping in the backstage to say hello the guys. Had I known Rogue Wave was opening, I would have definitely gone earlier! But it wasn’t well advertised that they were supporting. The show was packed, it’s kind of an awful sounding venue, a long stone box. But a lovely setting, under the Pont Alexandre.

OSLO, 2.21

I eased into By:Larm. Night number one was a solo set at my HQ, Revolver. When I showed up to soundcheck, they were still constructing the stages in each room! Hammers, saws, etc. all going. Paint being applied. I waited for awhile.

I had arrived to Oslo, and took the Flytoget into town, and walked to the By:Larm registration area, in an office building right in the center of town, and lo and behold, the first song I heard as I walked in to get my badge was my version of ‘Never My Love’, playing in the background. Oddly enough, on my next stop, to check in to the hotel, the first song I heard when I walked in the door was “Everybody Hurts”. How odd! I took it as a good sign.

I have played probably too many solo shows in Oslo, its anagram. I haven’t released a record since 2004. My covers EP isn’t out until March (last I heard!). So, I wouldn’t have thought to play * two * solo shows during By:Larm, but…Revolver made me an offer I couldn’t refuse…they asked! No, but it’s true, I was paid for my performance there, which isn’t true for most By:Larm showcases. And I was happy to be there, to play for my HQ and their patrons. But, since I am not exactly a novelty around Oslo these days, my solo sets were not super well attended…I mean, Oslo is always a tricky market. Example: the Posies play a sold-out show on a Saturday, sold out in advance—and then play to 30 people the next night, because it’s Sunday and Norwegians don’t go out on Sundays. Ever! And, with any market, it’s diminishing returns if you come back too many times, no matter how much good will you have in the market, people just save their pennies for other entertainment. So for Soft Commands, I have played now: Betong in 2004; Rockefeller, Gloria Flames, and Café Mono in 2006; The Garage in 2007; and now add two more shows at Revolver and you see that I'm stretching it pretty thin. And during By:Larm, people have to apply their energy and time, being finite, to a realistic selection from amongst hundreds of bands. Now, having said that, it was worth doing for lots of reasons, not just that I got a fee. I guess there were 40-50 people at Thursday’s show, and about 30 at Sunday’s show. 30 being the brick wall of Sunday show attendance in Oslo!

Oh, what is By:Larm, you are asking? It’s essentially Norway’s South by Southwest, where unsigned bands from all over Scandinavia (and beyond) assemble to play live in bars and clubs for one intense weekend of music. Music biz people come and in theory, discover new talent. There are also speakers and seminars and things for musicians to attend if they wish, where they might hear experts give advice on various aspects of navigating the music biz. This kind of thing. If you are a performer, you get a badge & wristband that gives you access to all the shows, with a coupe file, and there’s a central tent, with catering, and you get free food and cheap beverages. The general public can attend, either by going to individual shows like any other time, paying at the door, or they can buy a badge for the whole weekend, or a day pass. But an intense concentration of bands, some of which might come into the picture with some buzz, is playing. Established, successful bands generally don’t need to play this kind of thing, but now, just like SXSW, it’s gone from pure showcase for young hopefuls, to Major Label Marketing Tool. So, for example, for some reason, the Kooks played. Signed to a major, they’re not exactly here for free legal advice from the Norwegian Kultur Ministry. And generally, in the past, a band or two would make a big impression and walk away with a record deal, press, etc—this is what happened to Briskeby a few years ago. Now, the ‘prize’ of the weekend, awarded glibly with 30% of the shows that weekend still yet to happen, went to Ida Maria—she received the equivalent of €100,000 from the state oil co., to help promote her music outside of Norway. Guess what—she’s on a major, so, in theory, she already has plenty of access to financial backing, and in my mind, €10,000 to ten unsigned bands would be much a much more just application of capital. Having said that, generally, the shows at By:Larm are well attended, there’s a couple of free newspapers that are published each day of By:Larm so many bands get mentioned and reviewed, and I think it does give a little lift to quite a few artists. The main goal for the Disciplines for By:Larm was to expose our live set to potential bookers of festivals, etc., and build ye olde buzze, to the general public, media, etc. And on this front I think we succeeded marvelously.

The Thursday show at Revolver, with Kenneth Ishak opening, was one of * two * shows happening inside Revolver, which itself is not that much bigger than my flat, at the same time. So, for many parts of the set, there was a loud band playing furiously in the next room. Granted, there were closed doors and central foyer between us, and the resulting airlock insulated the noise pretty well, but, we’re talking here about a Ken Stringfellow solo show—it’s about as loud as an oyster mating call. And the bands in the next room were ludicrously raucous! So, as I have learned, I faced the situation with humor and adaptability, and didn’t get ruffled. I ended up playing a pretty long show, complete with Long Winters singalongs, mic-less moments, and the like. It went well, people dug it. But even tho I have some new songs, my focus is not on the solo material or presentation. If people didn’t request it, and they often do, I wouldn’t be looking for these shows at all. I am all about focusing myself and the world at large’s attention on the Disciplines. After my set I was completely shocked to find the band playing a kind of Doors-meets-Butthole Surfers kind of psychosludge next door was not only the band of Ole, Revolver’s main dude, but it was fronted my extremely mild mannered and quiet booking agent for Norway (for the Disciplines), Ragnar. Now, I’ve hung out with him, and Ole, many times, and it NEVER came up that he was not just a booking agent, but a singer as well. Fucking hell! I was blown away! It put me in such a good mood, that I ended up staying until 4 at the place—not drinking at the bar, but chatting with fans. I will say that the 40 or so fans that came were hardcore, and loved the show. And all wanted to chat, and that was fine by me. I also made good friends with the sound crew at Revolver (there’s a tiny recording studio in the back of the place, that served as the backstage during the festival, and also the staff there did all the sound stuff for the club).

OSLO, 2.22

Even tho’ I left the club at, say, 4.30 that morning, and I was up at 7.30 in order to meet Jon Marius for a start time in the studio, I was in fine shape as I had been more or less sober the whole evening. OK, I had a glass of wine, yes…I think I can get up and walk away from that N-gauge level of train wreck without much effort. Jon Marius and I met of course at Tim Wendelboe, and walked up to the studio to make some additional adjustments to some of the mixes. I did most of the adjusting—it was vocal tuning and the like that I wanted to get just right. Some of the backing vocals in ‘Oslo’ were quite messy, timing-wise, so I put them in a little better order. I revamped the guitar sound on ‘Falling Knives’ by panning the mics differently, and changing the EQ. That kind of thing. Basically, I had to do all that plus pack up Bjorn’s guitar stuff for the show, as it was all still at the studio from the earlier session that week, by 12.30, as we were supposed to be at a radio station by 1 or so. Jon Marius had to leave at noon. I was frantically bouncing and moving the files around until the absolute last minute…then Claus arrived with the van, we loaded up the guitar rig and drove to a live radio interview, and luckily they were running behind so we had a few minutes to catch our breaths. After the interview, it happened that Tiger of Sweden’s shop was next door, so, I made a few calls—I was owed some expenses for the show we did for ToS the previous weekend, and worked out some stylish new togs in trade for my receipts, which I left at the shop. After that we had an interview on ‘Oslo TV’, which is a chat show filmed from a location right in the middle of Oslo’s train station. I have to say two things---our video looks great on TV; and, the host, who is a prominent Norwegian actress, is not exactly an ace improvisation partner. She asks a question, and then you have the opportunity to riff a bit, but then she asks you just the next question on the list, and she never smiles. But, it’s a popular show, and I guess we looked good!

Various band members were arriving from various locales around Norway, enough that we could do a soundcheck, after which I retired to my hotel room to find inner calm, and develop me focus. I sewed my tie back together, which was a great way to calm your mind on a simple, repetitive (but requiring skill) task.

Back at the show, of course the Revolver Bar was full. It’s so tiny—how could it not be? There was a young woman playing on the small stage I had played the previous night, and it was a fair bit rowdier than during my set (her music was, however, no less delicate than mine, but she seemed to be cool with it). Later, Hiawata! took the stage—I dig their mini album ‘They Could Have Been Bigger than Hiawata!’ that was produced by Kenneth Ishak—in fact, some of their songs live sound like Kenneth could have written them…maybe he did! I guess there was a tense moment when a dancing patron hit the singer’s mic stand, and he went completely nuts—yelling at the guy, making him leave…in these situations, I can’t help thinking about when I saw Black Flag some 22 years ago, and Henry Rollins was at the front of the stage clad in nothing but nylon shorts, and some guy was punching him in the balls…and Henry didn’t flinch! Just kept on singing.

Well. ‘Tis a tiny stage they have erected at Revolver. We went on and the room was full, with a typically dull, skeptical Oslo hipster audience. Who, it should be said, were rocking out full on by the end—save for the one super cross looking guy in the army jacket right in front center, I couldn’t get him to crack a smile so much as. I did * hug * him at one point when I was down in the crowd. Well, long story short—best Disciplines show to date. After the set, an American gent bought a single, and it turns out he’s the editor of Paste magazine; we did a short interview backstage, and I saw he mentioned us already in his blog. I received many a nice compliment about the show, from friends and strangers alike. I felt great! As usual, I tried to have a relaxing glass of wine after the show, but they kept getting knocked over or absconded with—suddenly the bar was closed, and in midst of By:Larm madness, no one was sympathetic to our requests for a lock in. So, we decamped to the flat of Brage, the guy who made our Lydverket special. Typical afterparty style, the drinks ran out in like 5 minutes, and it was time to call it a night. There was a great moment where magically Ragnar and Claus had donned elevator pumps and were dancing together. They looked way too good on Ragnar! I thought he should switch brands permanently.

OSLO, 2.23

Now, I felt just fine this morning. However, I wasn’t so sure about my bandmates. But, I organized a quick rehearsal at 12.30 at Revolver, being that our gear was still set up there. We ran thru a couple of trouble spots; even tho’ I thought the show we played the previous night was fantastic, the band was unsure about a couple of small things. So, then we loaded into Rockefeller (Posies/Maximo Park 2005, Briskeby/KS 2006, Snow Patrol w/KS ln keys 2006) for our soundcheck. Rockefeller is quite large, holding 1200 or so people with a balcony, etc. They have a great staff, and everything there is professional. The wifi works. Etc! The only drawback is, it’s so spacious, that the sound when the venue is empty is quite cavernous and disorientating. And we weren’t on our own backline. But, this didn’t really matter in the end. I would say that this show wasn’t quite as over the top as the Revolver show, but the more I think about it, the more I realize it was excellent. At one point, my mic and my mic cable went in totally different directions, but I grabbed my spare mic, and they were on the case at the sound desk. It was a LOT harder to get in and out of the crowd—tall stage, barricade—my legs are, some 4 days later, still black with bruises. And my voice was a bit tired…I really went for it the night before, but I did lots of warm ups before the show and it worked fine. So, I think we played less wildly, but probably more musically, and I handled the audience just fine—everybody said afterwards that they were pleased that I managed to fill every corner of the venue no problem with my presence—often physically, as I was off the stage a lot, taking my mic as far as my cable would allow. After the show, I sold ALL the singles we had with us, including one to one of the most influential music journalists in Norway, and when I ran out half a dozen people were still in line—and then, Jello Biafra came to buy one! He really enjoyed the show, and we chatted for 10 minutes or so. Somebody took a picture with us on their camera phone, I’d love to see that! He was very friendly, full of enthusiasm for things he had seen at By:Larm—he mentioned some must-see bands like Masterpiece of Cake, etc. Now, The Dead Kennedys were my first punk show, my first stage dive, etc. at the New York Theatre in Vancouver, in 1984. So, it was a great moment for me, to get such positive feedback from someone whose work I’ve admired for so long. It’s been something like 26 years since I started buying DKs singles at Waxtrax in Chicago when I was in town visiting my dad.

OSLO, 2.24

There are certain immutable laws of physics, one of the most tested ones is that Oslowegians NEVER go out on Sunday. No matter what. They just don’t. And making a matinee Sunday show is just asking for trouble. So, when I hauled my carcass down to Revolver at 2 that afternoon, it was with full awareness that this show really shouldn’t matter…I could just as easily go back to bed. But, I was dead wrong. Even tho I played to only 30 or so people, it was a great afternoon, and it definitely meant a lot to the people there. And we raised over $250 for Wateraid. I basically did two sets, with a leg stretch in between. I saw the usual fan suspects, and some friends (Claus and Nanna came for the first set!). Afterwards, some 3 hours after it started, my friend Mathias suggested we have dinner at his restaurant, Arakataka. He’s the sommelier there. Remember, he’s the guy who hosted me for an epic wine tasting during the Dplines sessions. Sounded great to me. I stashed Bjorn’s guitar at the rehearsal place, packed up the mics I had brought from Seattle for the sessions and stashed them at my hotel, and headed to the restautant, which is right next to Rockefeller, actually. We had an epic meal, with delightful vino Toscano, plus dessert wines, an oyster as an amuse bouche, and a mix of starters—scallop, and, uh…well, stop reading here maybe. We had smoked whale.

No need to say I could barely walk from fatigue, show related injuries, food coma, and alcohol related heavy liddedness. I went straight to bed, probably at 10.

The next day I checked out of the hotel, and headed to meet Sarah from Revolver for a café (and to give me some money for some singles I sold to Ole’s store Rubber Soul, which is across the street and down from Revolver, and covers your complete r&r needs—skinny jeans, Chuck T.s, and Disciplines vinyl! The guys from Tim Wendelboe had been at the show at Rockefeller, and gave me a parting gift of some excellent Bazilian café, and to better utilize it, I bought an AeroPress, which having used it now—I can say, is an ingenious invention—so easy to use, portable, cleans up in 5 seconds, and makes great coffee. It’s a masterpiece of simple technology. Essentially, it’s a giant syringe, that pushes the trapped air, hot water, and coffee thru a filter and directly into your cup. Recommended!

Monday afternoon I had a strategy meeting with my bookers and label, and then flew home. Aden is out of school for the winter break, so she’s in Tours with the grandparents, so it was a bit sad to come home to such a quiet house. Dom was working. I went to see ‘Juno’ at the cinema.

On Tuesday I spent the day either online or at Pilates or giving a guitar lesson etc. etc. but in the evening, Dom & I went to dinner at our favorite place (no way I will tell you—its crowded enough as it is). For some reason, something I ate went horribly wrong and I spent an uncomfortable night, miserable morning, and by the time I crawled on to the train to Montpelier, I was just a bleached husk. I’m starting to come back, slowly. I ate a cookie moments ago, and it seemed OK. Still burnt out and fucked up and feeling shot at and missed/shit at and hit.

I’m backstage at the Secret Place, where I’m playing tonight, which is a venue and rehearsal place…I can hear the band I’m opening for, Radio Moscow, down below, who sound like Blue Cheer, and in one of the rehearsal rooms a full on African drums and marimba band. I’m cool with it. As we drove out here, by habit my host Hugo drove me without meaning to to La Victoire II, which is the venue the Posies played on the night I met Dominique. It was our first show in France, and we met the record co. in the restaurant of the hotel next door—now I know that where we were was the industrial outskirts of Montpelier, but at the time…I only saw the humor, beauty and charm of the woman I would marry ten years later…

Love

KS
St. Jean de Vedas, FRANCE

2.17.2008

OVER IT (ALMOST)

I was still laying pretty low on Sunday. Lydia Lunch was in town, and called me to see if I wanted to come to her performance—the answer being: yes, definitely I would like to, but I am just not up for it. It’s too early in my recovery to really pull that kind of adventure off. She was playing in one of the suburbs, which require a bit more work logistically to get to and from—getting back after the show would really be a bitch, as there aren’t usually taxis there. So, I respectfully declined, and remained reclined.

On Monday I felt a glimmer of energy stirring in me; I didn’t have that sucked-dry feeling, like a magnet pulling me towards the center of the earth with a tireless, consistent drag. They turned the tractor beam off in my mattress. That’s not to say I felt *good*, mind you. But I felt like I could leave the house. I went to see a mid-afternoon screening of “No Country For Old Men”, which I found riveting and, well, nearly perfect. And in the evening, I dragged the ever-patient Scott Greiner out to a program at Le Reservoir (where I played on the first European tour for Soft Commands, way back in the dark ages of December 2004) called Le Reservoir Bleu, which is a live radio broadcast where artists with new releases perform short sets. Now, I technically was too cranky and sick to be there, but I was on the list, and Cali was playing, I guess for the first time since his new record had come out. The club is small, and it was jam-packed. It’s free, and heavily promoted on the radio, so tons of people queue to get in. Scott and I found a good spot, standing along the wall towards the back—in case a hasty exit was even possible. It soon became quite clear that Cali was playing last. And, I wasn’t in the mood for the latest in major-label French varieté artistes to schlep their wares in back to back sets. Perhaps it was my Krank-heit, but basically I found the music presented universally atrocious. Insincere, amateur, and tacky in a way that only the hyperinsulated hothouse of the French subsidized musicverse can produce. It’s like a swarthy 1980s L.A. without the Glam. FUK. Cali came on at last, after almost 2 hours of this shit. And played two songs! I was pleased to hear that his horn players copied some of the lines from my string arrangement for a particular song. But, oh my. I went straight home to bed.

On Tuesday I bravely went to Pilates. I wasn’t coughing so much, but I wasn’t really ready, but I wanted to be as in shape as possible for the shows coming up—pretty soon I will be too busy to go to Pilates at all. In the evening I met with the manager of Syd Matters, to talk shop. Thomas is his name. Very nice person, and low bullshit. He walked me into Syd Matters’ sold-out show at Café de la Danse (both Le Reservoir and Café de La D. are in my neighborhood, so these were good baby steps to start go out again on). SM were truly phenomenal. The band is highly versatile, constantly switching instruments, and the show builds and builds, from its a capella opening to a kind of tribal jam (but a good one) at the end. Their music is really nice, psychedelic and folky (like, Syd must *really* matter to them). There are Radiohead, Pink Floyd, Nick Drake, and Deus moments…odd lyrics, very touching and sweet tho.

Dom’s brilliant suggestion was to celebrate St. Valentine’s a day early. On the 14th, most restaurants would be packed, and would also be offering a special menu, meaning overpriced and less flexible. Even better, most restaurants on the 13th were likely to be empty as it was midweek and people were saving up for a big night out the next night. So, Dom & I had our dinner Wednesday night at Carré des Feuillants, which was outrageously good. I had an entrée that were side-by-side eel things—a ravioli with smoked eel; a broiled piece of eel in a kind of foam; and sautéed elvers. My main course were ludicrously delicate bits of agneau de lait, alongside a bit of the gigot cooked in a cube of clay. We had a lovely night out. Aden, who fell asleep at 7, never even knew she had a babysitter. It should be noted that Aden is so cool that even her babysitter is a rockstar.

On Thursday I did what I should have done a week before. I went to see my doctor, who told me exactly what I already knew: I had bronchitis. I went and picked up my prescriptions. My doctor informed that there was a lot of bronchitis going around, exacerbated by extremely high levels of pollution this month. The heavy dose of antibiotics on the first day of treatment completely knocked me out.

OSLO, 2/15

Which was fine, as I had to be up at 6.45. I was leaving the house just as Dom & Aden were getting up for school. Aden was very unhappy that I was leaving…and me too; I was so used to being home--I had been in Paris for some 38 days, probably the longest time since Aden was born, when I took 2.5 months off from from working. We had been so happy in the predictability of our routines…and then, I was off. I did have the good fortune to actually catch a taxi on my street, instead having to walk with my luggage up to La Bastille. A good omen. I was so relaxed from my down time that despite the early hour I didn’t sleep on the plane at all. We landed in perfectly sunny conditions in Oslo, and I headed into town. This week I’m staying with Ole and Sarah, the team behind Revolver Bar, my unofficial HQ. I’ll be playing there *three* times this week! Sarah met me at the train station, and we stopped by Bonnier Amigo, who happen to be the Posies/Big Star ‘s label in Scandinavia. I chatted with my man Morten while Sarah picked up some promos.
Then I dropped my stuff at Sarah’s place. I had to learn how to work around their horny cat, who also wanted to claw my brand new trousers, being all aroused and what not. I was so fragile and not used to traveling and post-homebody-shellshocked I wanted to cry, for no real reason. But we went to Tim Wendelboe’s, and I made up for the uninspiring coffee I had at Orly that morning—the baristas at TW were psyched about the shows next week, too. So, life was good again.

I took the bus to the Disciplines show. The show was Tiger of Sweden’s Oslo Fashion Week party, in a very new nightclub called La Belle Solé. In the meantime, I was on the bus with various folk including a really messed up junkie—it seemed to be a kind of junkie holiday in Oslo that day, they were everywhere. He was right in the way of everybody boarding the bus, swaying in the aisle, trying to organize his stuff—which was a pile of cash, a produce bag with a couple of bananas in it, and his wallet, which had a preposterous wallet chain fashioned from a massive, like, moor a battleship, kind of chain. Serious, hardware-store, 3-inch-link chain. And this guy was not a dipshit gutter punk, he was sort of a generic worker guy, the kind of guy you’d work with one summer at a cannery. Was he young? Old? He had an atrophied baby face remarkably similar in its pursed-lipped way to Stephen Hawking’s; the rest of his body was broken and sway-backed somewhere in its late 40s, but he didn’t have any grey hairs and I had a sad feeling he was younger than I was.

I got off at the stop everyone had told me to, but nobody I could find--and I asked almost ten people--could tell me where Observatoriegaten was. Finally, a woman I asked not only knew the street but she knew the club—and it wasn’t more than a hundred feet from where I was—just out of sight around the corner. I entered and my band was already soundchecking, everybody feeling good. Except me. I had no idea if I could sing, or how I was going to muster the energy for a Disciplines show. The club was not a live music venue by any means—a tiny stage had been built for the occasion, and a small PA brought in. The club itself has three main environments: a fantastic little cubby hole of a bar in a tube-shaped room lined with wood paneling and bright red walls; parallel to that is the main room, where we were playing, which is mostly dark walls, except one side is brick—and of course, there’s half of a giant egg in the ceiling—it’s a light fixture, covered in gold leaf. Up some stairs, behind our stage, is another lounge with a ‘Grey Goose’ Vodka theme—so the walls have a black and white dead tree pattern. This whole lounge, which is open to the rest of the club, but also partially blocked by structural elements of the building, was our backstage. We ran our entire set during soundcheck, and I threw myself into it, but felt weak and I really didn’t know if I could pull it off. I was sore just from the soundcheck. Was I really doing a show?

We went and had dinner together, and then I went to Claus’ flat while he showered and changed. I just sat on his couch in the dark with my mouth hanging open, completely wrecked. We headed back to the club and the energy of the arriving crowd gave me a little lift. Eventually it was showtime, and the guys took their positions—people gathered, and the house (and I do mean house) music went off. I was about to clamber up there when Marius from Tiger told me to wait, as we had an introduction. So, I stayed in the wings. But, it took like 5 minutes for the introductor to arrive! This is an eternity under the circumstances, and Bjorn and Baard were just stranded up there. It was the head of the Tiger of Sweden office in Norway, a man of about 50 years, who eventually got up there and spoke Norwegian for 5 minutes or so. Then, it was rock time, and…lo and behold, I summoned god knows what from within, but I delivered. My diseased lungs were constantly deflated, but I was leaping, crawling, screeching…a maniac…naturally, this was a fashion week crowd, sort of glamorous, I guess…many of them probably would not be at another rock & roll show for the next year—usually these people would be listening to Amy Winehouse or Mika or something. So, we were really out of context (except for the fact we all dress in Tiger of Sweden gear) but, to be honest, they loved it! I love those moments when I jump off the stage and writhe around on some poor audience member, and nobody knows what to do…it’s so uncomfortable! But everybody was drunk enough to be a good sport, and I think we try very hard to mix our aggressive musical stance with an extremely welcoming and friendly attitude…it works, really well. The audience and we were all friends afterwards, and I spoke to all kinds of people after the show who loved it. The Tiger folks (our introductor included) were really happy--the ones we knew from Oslo, and the ones who had come in from Sweden etc. So it was a great night, and we played to many people who might never have heard us otherwise. But after the show, I was so tired…I mean, under normal circumstances that performance of mine would have been demanding, but in the condition I was in that day…it was a bloody miracle I made it thru at all, let alone actually delivered to that level—and sang in tune at full sterength! But I had to go straight to bed afterwards.

The next morning—hell, even now, 24 hours later, my ass was/is so sore it feels like I’ve been riding horseback on a saddle made out of golf balls. The muscle that holds the bottom of my ribcage and the top of my stomach together is sore too. And my bronchitis has graduated up to my left sinus. But I feel really happy. I coffee’d up at Tim Wendelboe this morning, then Baard picked me up, we grabbed Bjorn and his gear at the rehearsal place, and headed to Espionage Studios, to work on our album. Basically, Jon Marius has already pre-mixed the album, and now we’re going thru the songs one by one and making small changes etc. to make the final mix. We mixed ‘Children of the Sea’ which sounds HUGE—all the harmonies from Sherri and Stacey from Eisley sounding great—also, the singer Samsaya was recording in the same studio, and she and I did some shouty bits. This song sounds outrageous now. We also mixed ‘There’s A Law’ which ENORMOUS now; and worked a lot on ‘Oslo’—Bjorn played some very fancy guitar bits on it (and, while I worked on the mix of ‘Children’, he played a blazing solo on Samsaya’s record). It was almost done when, around 11.30, everybody was burning out and we went home for the night.
I’m sure I’m coming back…but right now, heading out…more to come.

Love
KS
Oslo

2.10.2008

MALADE

OK, this week has been for sure my least productive in as long as I can remember. I spent it basically sick as a dog, but not in a way I had experienced illness before. At the start of the week, or maybe before, as it came on gradually, I developed a cough, that soon deepened. At its worst it gave the illusion of dragging a cheese grater thru my lung tissue. I never had a stuffed nose, never sneezed. Just slowly weakened to the point where getting out of bed was huge task. My one excursion outside the house since I became bedridden Thursday, to get Aden from school—a ten-minute walk—was extremely unpleasant. The outside world, bent in convex distortion, was a confusion of objects in motion that I had no idea how to make sense of. Aden was not in her usual location, so I had to navigate the halls of the school in search of her (I wasn’t the only confused parent, to give me some credit). I had dreams—some disturbing, like the dream I accompanied my mother on some kind of errand at my Junior High School, and I went to look for my teachers, realizing they were all dead now…which technically might not be universally true, but in 26 years, some of them might be, so it rang true. It was a somber realization that my school days were not just yesterday, but sliding into ancient history. An amusing dream, or part of it anyway, was me as a substitute in Led Zeppelin, except that the current performance was taking place at typical highway gas station—each member performing from within an automobile, and able to communicate with the mixer--naturlich, the guy at the register in the shop. A grizzled character who bore no resemblance whatsoever to Led Zeppelin members living or dead, displaced me, and occupied my vehicle—calling for more click track in his headphones, with the urgency of a pinned down Marine calling for air support.

So, I’ve been in bed for four days now. At the beginning of the week I received and organized and forwarded up to CentCom in Oslo the tracks and tracks of vocal harmonies that the members of Eisley contributed to the Disciplines album—lovely, perfect! I bought new shoes (I buy a pair of sneaks every two years, whether I need ‘em or not). I bought a turntable—the Ion, which delivers its output analog or USB, and comes with audio capturing software I have yet to employ but it was relatively cheap and the device is very cute. The first thing I put on was a bonus single from the Isobel Campbell/Mark Lanegan album…it was such an awful pressing I thought I had purchased a lemon turntable. But then I put a piece of avant-garde 20th century music on, by (still active) French composer Pierre Boulez, on Columbia, and it sounded just beautiful—the full depth and range and power that vinyl can offer—however, there are definitely differences in the extreme highs and lows from digital—vinyl is a bit rounded off at the extremes but you don’t miss ‘em.

This week also saw the release of Cali’s album L’Espoir, on which I did the string arrangements for three songs (plus some backing vocals). There’s a deluxe edition that comes with a DVD, that includes a 20 minute ‘making of’ film with interviews with Cali, producer Scott Colburn (who mixed three of the songs on ‘Soft Commands’), and so forth. There’s a very funny bit where you see the strings being recorded, and I’m in the shot, but completely motionless—I was always in the room with them for direction and moral support, but if I didn’t have to move I wouldn’t—just to prevent any unnecessary generation of noise. Anyway, it’s a beautiful album, and I am proud to have been a part of it. I guess it is available everywhere in the Francophone world—online, etc.

That’s all that’s worth reporting. I am hoping that I recover sufficiently to enable me to perform properly on Friday with the Disciplines at a private event in Oslo. If that means staying in bed all week, so be it. However, this week both Cali and Syd Matters are performing in Paris, each in my neighborhood no less, so I may have to drag my carcass out for an hour or so here and there. We’ll see how it goes.

Love
KS
Paris

2.03.2008

REBUILD

I uploaded a few new photos in the photos section.

This week's theme was French bureaucracy--do to some unknown box going unchecked by some clerk deep in the bowels of the French banking system...my just opened account was closed! My banker called me to apologize--but she had no explanation. The bottom line--Caisse D'Eparnge had rejected my account--as if I had bad credit, or a criminal record--or some other peccadillo lurking in my data. But, I don't. So, why? Well, in France...you don't necessarily get an explanation...you just get sent to the back of the line. This weekend, Remi and I showed up at a tennis court, which we had booked online thru the city's system for managing all the public sports facilities--and found that our reservation didn't exist (despite confirmation emails we received). No sorry, just, no. Now, meanwhile...as my bank is basically treating me like a war criminal, the French banking system's culpability in the illegal trading scandal is coming to light...making bad investments, and lying to the public, and setting up a fall guy, in a cog like Jerome Kervel...like, the only pictures Societe Generale released were, like, the worst photos possible, designed to make him look sketchy and guilty. In the meantime...*somehow* no one noticed billions of euros in bad trades...bollocks.

This week was one of those rebuilding weeks--too early in the year for real progress or activity. I sent out hundreds of emails, sms, and calls, managing the Disciplines project. I set up a page for the Disciplines on Facebook. Strangely enough, you can't have a profile for a band, or under a fake name, or anything...could Facebook be any more square? Then again, I guess it's more spamproof. But seeing as even the content generated between friends basically resembles spam in my eyes...

I also made myself profiles for several categories on esession.com, an online network for hiring musicians and producers to work on your music via file transfer--in other words, you could have Tony Levin play on your record without having to fly him to Cleveland and work with you. Jury's out if it will actually generate any work for me, but they are getting good press in the music magazines (I found out about them via an interview with the founder Gina Fant-Saez in TapeOp.

I went out to see slo core instrumental wizards Bombazine Black at La Scene Bastille. La Scene is about a 45 second walk from my flat, but I've never been there. It's a great location for kind of a bogus, pay to play club. It even *looks* like a mini Troubador inside. Unfriendly staff, overpriced drinks. That kind of thing. But, the band was good! Led by Matt D from Melbourne, who is living here now. After the show, I went with my friend and expat engineer Scott Greiner to Le Motel for a few drinks with Bombazine B. Incredibly, a young guy from the band that had just played at Le Motel, came up to me and said he recognized me from playing with REM on the David Letterman Show--"you must have a pretty big TV", I said--I couldn't have been visible for more than a few seconds. Anyway, Scott is selling a full on ProTools rig--if you are in the market for a serious recording set up, contact him via his website.

While walking to my shrink I pass each time an incredible fish market. The other day they were selling whole sharks. I thought...who buys an entire shark? I felt a bit sad thinking they might go to waste.

However, we wasted nothing when we went to Marche D'Aligre a couple of weeks ago, and bought the last bit of cochon de lait remaining--the head. And, I actually ate it. I refer to the French as a kind of Eskimo tribe--no part of any animal is wasted...even the bones end up in the soup. Or as an entree.

Love
KS
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!!!