6.29.2008
CHECK OUT THE DISCIPLINES OWN CELL PHONE! FOR A LIMITED TIME, CHESS MOBILE NORWAY IS OFFERING THEIR NEW XZITE PHONE--WHICH ALSO BROADCASTS YOUR MP3'S TO YOUR RADIO--PRELOADED WITH 'SMOKING KILLS'! A very productive week in Stockerau, working on the A Life A Song A Cigarette album...we worked thru cello, guitar, keyboard, vocal and other overdubs. I had a nice routine, wake up, head out to Ihm's cafe, stop at a payphone and use a phone card to call home or make business calls. Ihm's is a much more tranquil spot than the busy cafe/ice cream parlor near the studio; it just took me a few days to find it. I spotted it on the way to the post office (where I bought phone cards and mailed many Disciplines promos), and noticed the banners on the window describing it as a 'Football-free zone'; an important consideration since the European championships are in Austria this month. Inside, I found a quiet terrace set off from the town's high street (also an important consideration, since the high street conveys every truck, combine harvester, etc. by--another reason the cafe Rotzer is not ideal) and very good espresso. We had some incredible summer storms--huge lightning strikes--at one point I was admiring a rainbow and saw a lightning strike arc almost perfectly parallel to the arc-en-ciel. Rain was coming down so hard at one point, the gutter pipe fell off the wall, and the passage was flooding! No studio damage. Alternately, we've had, most days, hot sun and temperatures around 85-90 F. I had been under a little stress trying to sort Disciplines business in the mornings, finally I said 'fuck it' to a few things that weren't resolving and thus were stressing me out. As soon as I did, they of course started to resolve lickety split. I felt much better. The call center by the studio finally got their phones installed, so I had another phone option. Nothing beats Barcelona for sheer number of taxiphones for incredibly little money. Austria seems quite expensive. A €10 phone card might last me three days of calling home; in BCN, a €5 card lasts me a week. Stockerau had 3 payphones within easy reach; one on the main square (that was blended in with a bus stop, so I didn't notice it the first few days), one inside the post office, and one about 5 minutes down the road. There were times when I would be on the phone with Dom or with the Disciplines' label and a local would be pounding on the door for their turn in the phone booth. I effectively shut down all superhero business in Stockerau (which is what the 'S' actually stands for) for a week. We had a bassoon player come in for a song--I'd never recorded one before--another first. Yesterday, ALASAC singer Stephan and his g.f. Marilies did a song together--I put them out in the passage next to the studio--sent up band memebers to block access to the driveway/parking (nobody came, but we do share the parking with other business; this was on a Saturday evening so we were safe) and set up some mics--we have incredibly loud swallows and, later, crickets, on the recording. It doesn't sound like it when you're outside, but put a few mics around and suddenly the place sounds like the Florida everglades. It sounds amazing, the recording! On Friday, I was editing a vocal, and the guys texted me 'you have to come see this'. I tried to go out the door to the high street, but it was already locked. We don't have a key to that...in fact, I don't know who locks it at night (and Sunday) and unlocks it in the morning. So, I went out and cut thru a big hotel on our block, and went to the main square, which had been converted into a biergarten. Usually it's empty, even of pedestrians--they stay walking along the Rotzer side, or along the far side, by a few restaurants. The square is dominiated by Stockerau's second largest (after the catherdral) building--the Bank. In the square are a few big trees and a fountain (not in operation), overlooked by a particularly greusome depiction of the crucifixion. However, on Friday, the square was full of people, grilling wursts (and fish impaled on a stick over charcaol--'stickfish', it's called in German); and lo ahd behold, a delightfully absurd ABBA cover band, with a very rotund Benny. Great! I couldn't see the Agnete/Annafrid, as they were on wireless mics, and lost in a see of giddy little kids, pied-piper style. So fun! Well, back to work for me. Last night was a marathon session, to finish up the recording--we/I played/sang on stuff til 5am. Today I will mix the acoustic songs, inchallah, and head back to Vienna. Well done! Love KS Stockerau, AUSTRIA
6.22.2008
WERE ALL WIND… This week really turned on its/my/everyone’s head in a number of unexpected squirts from the seltzer bottle you didn’t know was pointed at your eyes…so to speak. It all started in order, and I had to learn to embrace chaos, filth, disappointment—I had to adapt to the terrain like a downed airman behind the enemy’s front line. The opposing line being my own desire for order, it seems. It started in a normal enough fashion. I caught my super early morning flight out of Oslo; the prices for a taxi to the airport have become so absurd (more than €100) that I braved taking a taxi to the National Theater station to catch one of the first Flytogets out; I always get a little nervous when check in time is 6am. But I made it, and boarded with complete ease. I don’t even really remember being in Copenhagen airport, but soon I was landing in Vienna, having absorbed a Herald Tribune already. It was here the chaos began. No suitcase. Well, I knew SAS would do right by me. We proceeded on to the studio—I was embarking on an album project with A Life A Song A Cigarette, something I’d truly been looking forward to. The only sad thing was, my suitcase had several microphones in it that I wanted to make part of the session. But, I hoped they would arrive that night, as night number one was only a rehearsal. So, we drove straight to the studio. Almost, anyway—we were stuck in traffic for quite awhile. But we made it, and started to run thru the material. Most of the arrangement work had been done via email, with demos being sent and comments sent back and forth. The songs were sounding good, including a new one I hadn’t heard before. The studio is in a small town, about 40 minutes by car from Vienna, a town called Stockerau. It’s bigger than a village, but not by much. The studio itself boasts a fantastic vintage Neve desk, great outboard gear, lots of mics, and the latest Pro Tools setup. There’s even a tape machine, but we didn’t go there on this rec (we should have!). Where we sleep is an apartment in a tiny village about 15 minutes’ drive out of Stockerau. A one road town, with one bar/restaurant (that always seems to be closed, at least the hours we’re in town) and a few houses. The town is surrounded by farms of some sort. Being a one-road town, the downside is that any big truck or clanky tractor passing thru is quite loud. But Stockerau is the same way—when we sit outside the cafe near the studio, big trucks and tractors are frequently passing thru. The first day, before we really started to work, we went to have a cafe in the ‘only game in town’. Rotzer’s. They served something called a ‘hamburger’ on their very limited menu that was actually a piece of ham, some melted cheese, special sauce and I think a bit of shredded iceberg on a hamburger bun. Cue Morissey singing “I’ll never make that mistake again, no”. But, Ulli, the mysterious dark haired ageless server there is very kind, remembers that I prefer a Wiener melange, and…it’s the only game in town. Anyway, Monday midday, I’m starting to contemplate eating this odd ham-burger, when my phone rings. Turns out, we’ve been offered a huge show in Norway—the “VG Lista Topp 20 Live”. The newspaper VG’s top 20 chart is the Billboard standard for Norway. VG is the most widely read newspaper in Norway…it looks a bit like the Sun, but there’s not (usually) a page 3 nudie shot. VG has been good the Disciplines and here they were inviting us to participate in a huge gala event, that happens every June—in cooperation with NRK, the national broadcast service, they put on an enormous free show in downtown Oslo—they claim an audience of 100,000 and I accept the claim tho I find it dubious (I accept it, because it looks good to say you’ve played for 100,000 people). The show is broadcast live on NRK 1 so it’s seen overall by at least 500,000 people. Most of the lineup are the biggest hitmakers in Norway (read: Idol winners) and a few curveballs. Well, of course, we had to say yes—there are perhaps no better opportunities for promotion in Norway. One problem: the show was the following Friday. We had a show that day, in Paris—and of course plane tickets to Paris. I happen to live in Paris, too—but, duty calls. I considered, and after consulting my family and getting their approval I said yes. Then I had to make some harsh calls. To Caroline, promoting our show in Paris, to tell her we had to cancel and explain why. She was incredibly cool about it. Of course, whatever tickets that couldn’t be refunded we would pay for (I made this a condition with my record label as part of agreeing to do the show). Canceling Paris meant a few more things—I wouldn’t be seeing my family this weekend; I would be missing my daughter’s end of the school year fete (I was going to perform, and see her sing in the chorale). I had only packed enough clothes, herbal tea, shampoo whatever to get me to the end of the week. In the end (read on) it was all worth it, I think—except I still don’t feel good about missing Aden’s party. But, right now, I feel like we are building something with the band that needs to take priority and I was certainly the one saying we needed more TV stuff. So, adapting to that huge change in plan leant a stressful edge to my week—I tried to shut it off when I was working with ALASAC and I was fairly successful but the mornings were all about taking care of business. And it wasn’t easy. Normally I live on a steady diet of phone cards, using call centers, whatever. There was no land line to be found—the studio and the apartment were phone-free. Stockerau has two payphones, neither of them very close to the studio, and the phone card I bought at the post office is almost used up, and it didn’t take long. And some urgent matters just had to be dealt with. So, I had to use my US cell phone more than usual this week. All part of the cause, tho. My suitcase *did* eventually arrive, the mics inside were put to use, and by buying some herbal tea, socks and underwear I pretty much have what I need to soldier on until I get home in another week and a half. So, the good news about Stockerau’s relative isolation is that it makes for productive recording. There’s nowhere to go after the studio, we know no one in town. It was kind of the point of choosing this place. The band themselves are amazing. Great songs, and they’ve done their homework well. I have certainly in these (web)pages remarked about my enjoyment for the playing of cellist Lukas Lauerman, getting to work with him on this record is big thrill. The songs are great, and, now that we’re a week into it, we’ve got some great sounding basic tracks, with some guitar overdubs sounding wonderful. I played a little guitar on one song, but mostly I organized the recording of a 6-piece band live in the studio. Stress factors: no internet at the apartment, so I have to sort of get everyone interested in going to the studio very early so I can catch up on email before the studio day. I think I will start sleeping at the studio (it has a shower and kitchen) so everyone can rest longer, and I can…work longer! Stress factor: I had never worked in this studio before, and all studios have their quirks—the owner was there for the setup, which helped, but I was hoping to have an assistant—for part of the time, at least, just someone who can be there for helping patch in the stuff—every studio has a different way to do the same things, and most of them come with variations peculiar to the owner—patch bays not correctly marked, odd channel/mic plate numbering systems—things that don’t work that you spend hours trying to figure out which part of the chain is malfunctioning, and you call the owner and he says “oh, yeah. I should have mentioned that if you use the EQ on that channel, the odd-numbered headphone mixes go out, unless you are standing by the door, in which case they start working again, but only in mono, and really quiet, and distorted.” Yes, you should have. My assistant was also there on the rehearsal day, but then he had a ‘family emergency and he couldn’t say what it was’ and he’s never been heard from since. But, despite all the craziness, the recordings are going really well, and indeed, it’s a stress relief to record great songs and great musicians. The old Neve is super touchy, there’s always a channel going out when I’m trying to get the band going on a song—not the same channel everytime, mind you, but a random selection—but it sounds incredible. I got to try my Lauten Audio mics on the drums (specifically on the toms, and the Horizon LDC made the floor tom enormous! I would have used the other one on the rack but it was doing guitar duty). Stress factor: the bass player, Martin, had to leave on Thursday to take an economics exam. So, basic track recording was suspended, and we had to switch to overdub mode for the day (take mics off the drums, do completely different cue mixes)—he then returned (NOT having taken the exam—it was Wednesday!) and we went back to tracking, with the board being more touchy than ever. I was grousing quite a bit. The band was patient, as ever! My bandmates on Thursday assembled in Oslo to do a soundcheck for Friday’s show. Evidently Bjorn didn’t miss his med school final, nor the end of school year party—a party which ended up lasting two days! He turned up for his flight to Oslo, and ended up in police custody! Overkill, methinks, but, it makes for a good news item! Oh, yes, at one point, an old woman came by to tell us our dumpster was on fire. Indeed, it was—REALLY on fire, with 6-foot flames coming out. I actually grabbed a fire extinguisher and ran out and did my best to extinguish it. I didn’t want an oozing pool of melting, burning plastic in our driveway, by any means. The flames stopped but it was still smoldering. The fire dept. came by and finished the job, sad that I had done the fun bit. Across the street from the studio there’s a large dormitory of some kind—when the fire truck pulled up every window in the 6 story building was crammed with kids having a look see. OSLO, 6/20 Thursday night after the studio ALASAC’s drummer, Daniel, took me to his flat in Vienna for a couple hours sleep, then, god bless ‘im, drove me to the airport for my 7.20 flight. Incredible. I was wearing the same clothes I wore onstage in Haugesund, still crusty with Haugesund mud, but the dirt had faded enough to be believeable at this point. I was so nervous about getting to the show, let alone doing it, that barely slept on the planes, and I was oddly alert and not sleepy when I got up to start the day, at 4.50—having gone to sleep at 1.30. Weird. Well. I landed at Torp, that being the only Oslo flight from Vienna that was less than €1000 when purchased with 5 days’ notice. Normally, you hop on a bus and it takes you to the Oslo bus station, in about 2 hours. For some reason, there were no buses around. I *did* take a little extra time to get out to the kerb, having an extended chat with Norwegian customs on the way in. For a guy with no luggage to speak of, they wanted to know what I was all about. Must be the silver raincoat. So, it dawned upon me that there was to be no bus for me, and I had already missed the buses going to the train station—thinking I wouldn’t need ‘em. So I hopped a cab and made the next train to Oslo. Hey, more stress! Cool! Finally got to town, and checked into my hotel, right by the station (good for my arrival and departure) and could breathe for a few minutes. The guys swung by in a cab and picked me up, and we went to the site, in front of the City Hall, basically. A huge, Glastonbury-worthy stage was erected, with a catwalk straight outta a Stones concert. We were shown backstage, and soon were mingling with various Norwegian music stars---all of which were happy to see my bandmates. Mira Craig, all the Idol singers, you name it—they are Briskeby pals. For my part I knew the singer in Surferosa, and the drummer in Howl! There were some record co/music biz peeps that I new, and of course the folks from P3. Anyway, I was happy and made schmoozing my goal. We were photographed for today’s issue of VG (a very nice shot!). We did a soundcheck, which was unexpected, but really helpful—I blocked out how to manage this gigantic stage and catwalk and all that…knowing that we were doing a slow song and I had to really think about this, it couldn’t just work on manic energy. I had a wireless mic! All new to me. Well, I felt a LOT better after the soundcheck, we actually ran thru the song twice. Plus, backstage we played it about 5 times too. So, I was prepared as I could be, for something so new. Then I had time to get nervous! Watching all the other bands/artists. The good news was that everyone was playback, except us, Kaizers Orch. and Katie Melua. We had to fight to our song live. But it really sounded incredible. See for yourself! Showtime. I was super nervous. You can see me kind of grinning at the start, that’s nervous laughter. But also, I was enjoying myself. It was so much fun! My trademark move was to get to the stairs that led to the catwalk, and NOT descend—people were screaming for me to come down! Finally I did, and that got ‘em. Later, I laid down on the catwalk. Shook some hands. Fun! It was over in like a blink. The fact that it had gone so well was such a surprise—I was prepared for the worst—mic failure, forget the words, lose the melody, bad sound, audience indifference (let’s remember that we are pushing 40, playing to an audience of mostly 15 year old Pop Idol fans, with a *ballad* in the midst of lineup of hi-energy dance music and hip hop). But in reality, it went down INCREDIBLY WELL. It’s not often that I actually live up to a high expectation. I usually just try and do damage control. But here, we were way beyond just competence—we excelled. I was so high from the experience I talked to Dom on the phone afterwards speaking like the biggest coke fiend on earth, but it was all natural adrenalin (and coffee, I guess). We went back onstage for the grand finale—as many of the artists as could be mustered were put on stage to dance behind a boppy little number with, yes, a guy from Idol singing. I did my best to be the freak of the week—I thought Ida Maria and Marianne from Surferosa would be the wild children, but they were relatively reserved. On the video, you see a few seconds of me crawling thru everyone’s legs, riding Claus’ shoulders, running thru everyone…unf. my crabwalk can-can isn’t visible… So, I went to the afterparty, had a wonderful chat with the singer from Kaizers Orch., a great chat with Claus’ wife Nanna, and almost immediately ran out of adrenalin, and walked to my hotel. Being the 2nd longest night of the year, it was great to be walking home at about 2am and see the sky a just-post-sunset blue. Birds were chirping as the clubs were still banging. I felt even better about the show when I woke up—always a good sign! I was able to take my time, have a cafe at Tim Wendelboe’s, as is tradition; meet with our Norwegian booking agent, and hop on the Flytoget. I had a very boring layover in Stockholm—I didn’t want to spend money, really, and there wasn’t much to do with my 3 hours. The airport and my flight to Vienna was empty—everyone in Scandinavia is pretty much already in place for wherever they will pass the longest night of the year—they’re not going to spend it in an airport, or in a city that gets actually gets dark at night. Daniel was there at VIE to pick me up—my luggage made it this time (oh, but, my hairbrush was broken in half on the way to Olso the day before!). This week we face the music—there’s no where else to turn in Stockerau! Love KS Vienna
6.16.2008
RAISE A ROCK FIST FOR ROCK FEST Week: tour managing. Emails. Phone calls. Not so interesting. Unless of course, you’re me. In the course of my week, I negotiate rates for tour buses, hire and fire, beg for info, reward and punish for giving/withholding the same. I also take my daughter to school, empty the dishwasher, take Pilates classes. See my shrink. I had dinner with Dom at the Ritz…I had one of those big scores in that one of the cheapest bottles of wine that I scraped up on the wine list there happened to be outstanding. Dom. de Perdrix ’95. Nothing special, according to Wine Advocate. But, delightful, complex, and absolutely worth every minute of my attention. Thursday night found me at the Herbaliser show at Trabendo. Every other minute was kinda corny, like “Flintstones” era B-52s, but the intervening minutes were fun, funky, and certainly vocalist Jessica Darling was a highlight. HAUGESUND, 6/14 Friday morning I flew up to Oslo, spent the afternoon meeting with our label about strategies for the Disciplines album, and spent a quiet night at Claus’ (almost completely) redesigned and rebuilt house. It’s an architectural masterpiece, really—a wonderful design showcase. From the house, we could listen to the Norwegian Wood festival, with QOTSA. That is, we didn’t have to endure the torrential downpour that at one point looked like it was going to start eroding the high ground. Claus had yet to hook up the internet, having just moved in (and details are still in progress) so I caught up on some music work, and read, and fell asleep before midnight. We were up early the next day. The house comes with a few hi-tek gadgets built in—an espresso machine, that works wonderfully; and a stove that works thru the miracle of electrical induction—meaning, if the cooking vessel isn’t of the correct level of conductivity the stove simply won’t function. Guess Claus needs a new kettle, but when I put a stainless pot on there, the 2 in. of water in it was boiling in about 40 seconds. Spooky physics. Anyhow, 3 of us drove to the airport, checked in, and started funneling into the same line as many other obvious rockers. We got on an SAS jet, flew to Haugesund, on the west coast of Norway. From the moment we landed, every minute was a pleasure. Rockfest is a wonderfully run, friendly, mellow festival that has the right to have audience members as young as 15 (usually, because of the alcohol for sale, the age limit at festivals in Norway is 18). Haugesund (where the father of Marilyn Monroe was born) is a small harbor town, which thrives on fishing, and hi-tech service to the oil industry. I met a young man tonight who runs a company designing, building and selling robots that can operate on underwater building and repair projects. We were all (the Disciplines, Ingrid Olava and band, the Delillos) greeted at the airport, and put in vans and Range Rovers—and driven not to Haugesund, but to a small quay, and boarded a vintage tugboat, to enjoy a pleasant, hourlong ride to central Haugesund—munching on endless piles of shrimp, and chatting in the sunny late morning. They pulled up to the quay which runs alongside the downtown area, and we walked the 100 yards or so the hotel. We more or less had the daytime free, so I set about painting my nails (Maybelline Black is Black #700), etc. We checked out the site, and the backline, and found that everything was perfectly in place. No soundchecks usually at festivals—so we were free til the band before us was done. There were two stages, perpendicular to each other—the mixing position at front of house had two desks, also perpendicular to each other. We were on the ‘main’ one, although really the acts were distributed around—the set up was designed so that the music could continue without pause—while one band played on one stage, the other could line check on the other, which didn’t interfere too much if done discreetly. For example, Claus played along with Kine Nesheim’s set, and we paused the line check whenever there was a pause in a song. And at least for the acts on the second stage, their music was also run thru the mainstage’s PA, gluing the perspectives together rather effectively. The festival commandeers not only the main park in the city center, but also two hotels (our hotel on the waterfront is where most of the bands stayed), one by the park serves as a kind of backstage, hospitality provided in a pair of adjoining conference rooms. Next to the stage, there were some camping trailers—we had the right to use both, but we figured it was just easier to use the camping trailer right by the stage. The festival also takes over the city’s concert hall—the restaurant inside is where all the bands take dinner, and the spacious lobby and the restaurant house the after party. It’s not everyday that I have a concert hall at my disposal, so I recognized I had a great opportunity to do my vocal warm ups with a piano. Ideally, I do this everyday—hard to do on tour, but at least doing this at home on my keyboard each day keeps my voice from going too slack between tours, thereby lessening the shock of a Disciplines show when it occurs. Doing my warm ups on this day was important—it was the first show I’d done of any kind in a week, the first Disciplines show in over a month, and we would be outside in brisk, dry air. So, after making enquiries I was directed to the lobby’s piano after dinner, and I started on my warm-ups. Evidently I was louder than I thought, and tho I was 50 yards away, I was bothering the CC Cowboys as they tried to have dinner. I apologized and ended up finding a practice room deep in the building, and finished my exercises. On the way in to the hall we spotted a VW van with the word SHIT in 2 foot high letters on the front and sides. Inside, there was guy sitting on a couch in a red sweatshirt covered in speech bubbles saying “SHIT”. We got to talking, and it turns out that SHIT tm is a skateboard clothing co., and Johan, the owner hooked me up with some, uh, Shit—including a kid-sized hoodie and T shirt that’s perfect for my little shit at home! Check out the shit here. Obv., they can’t advertise, they can’t even be Googled in the USA, so my fellow Americans—be the first on your block to get covered in SHIT and have a little First Amendment fun while you’re at it! We headed to the festival grounds in one of the festival’s fleet of Range Rovers; the nice thing about playing a small festival like this is that you can get the head honcho on the phone—and he comes and picks you up. So, we had no security hassles, even in moments where one of us might have forgotten their passes, etc. Now, the show—I was nervous, which is nice. Much better than being blasé. As people watched Haugesund’s own Kine Nesheim, we set up and line checked, I taped down set lists and set out towels. And then it was out turn. We gave 5 minutes pause for people to reposition, and then without warning (our show starts with 2 beats of me singing a capella, then the band kicks in, no stick clicks, etc) we were on. And we really gave an enormous performance—abetted by what started as a curious, but grew to a thunderous, crowd. We hadn’t played in weeks, but we picked it up like we’d been playing every night for a week. I have learned how to hold back a bit at the beginning of the show so I a place to get to by the end, to conserve energy, so as not to look like the show peaks somewhere in the middle. And it just kept getting better. By the time I was jumping up and down with everybody in the crowd, I knew we had really won everyone over, and we received a lot of love. Bottles broke onstage, people grabbed me on the barricade—it was a winner all around. After the show, I jumped down and sold CDs right over the barricade—sold everything I brought. And got to shake a lot of hands and further cement the good feeling that we created. A job well done by my band, the festival audience and staff, and, hey, even I feel great about my own performance. It really started to take off for me when I had the feeling that I was riding something bigger than the sum of its parts, about 75% of the way thru the set, the show took less and less effort, and seemed to be motoring on its own steam (plus the energy of the audience). There were a couple of uh-oh moments, regarding my knees, when I jumped off the bass bins onto the dirt in front of the barricade (after I got home from Seattle and the intense Posies shows, I could barely walk down the three flights of stairs in our building). But all in all, an incredible show. We were a tough act to follow, and I had to hand it to Ingrid Olava, whose music is much more delicate than ours, having to follow us couldn’t have been easy but she did a great job. She had mentioned in the hotel that she really loves “This One’s On You” from Touched, and at one point she was playing a song and I thought for sure it was going to be a cover…I guess she borrowed a bit of the same chords, either subconsciously or not—either way it would be an honor if actually true. You can see a local newspaper article on the show, with photos, here. After the show, I changed out of my muddy clothes and into some fresh SHIT. We did an interview with the local radio station (Radio 102, playing ‘Oslo’ in heavy rotation); Egil, the DJ is a super nice guy and a real music fan, we always end up chatting and chatting after interview time is done about records and shows. The interview was done in Claus’ room. Then we watched an amazing video of Aden at her school dance recital. Then, we went to the concert hall for the after party at about 12. I was, to be honest, absolutely exhausted. I was falling asleep having a glass of wine in Claus’ room. But when I got there I drank an espresso and was feeling OK. I spoke with a LOT of fans, and some of the musicians from the festival (esp. the Delillos ’85 and crew). But, I was soon out of steam, and after helping Johan from SHiT DJ (I put on “Dragon Attack” by Queen, “Paid in Full” Eric B & Rakim, etc), I headed back to my room to watch a movie and sleep. We were up this morning, many of us on the same flight back to Oslo, to see the day begin in glorious sunshine. It’s almost the longest day of the year, so about 2am when I was walking back to the hotel, it was already dawn. When we got back to Oslo it was pissing down rain STILL, an unbroken squall since Friday—I am sure the Norwegian Wood Festival is taking a hit, but I guess some of it’s sold out or nearly in advance. But, I had to accept it as lucky that we got Øya instead—we were going for both, and I think Øya is much, much more prestigious and vibier than Norwegian Wood, tho both have good artists on board. But there’s a good chance Øya will be in the sunshine. I was thrilled to hear ‘bon fete, Papa!’ from Aden yesterday morning for Father’s Day. Last night I fell asleep at about 8pm, woke up in surreal state at about 10, with the echoes of Alanis Morissette drifting in from the Norwegian Wood Festival nearby. In a daze I called home to wish my dad and stepdad a happy father's day, then crashed. Up at 4 to catch my flights to Vienna. One misplaced suitcase and some other stress later, I'm in studio with A Life A Song A Cigarette, doing preproduction for our album sessions starting tomorrow. Love KS Stockerau, AUSTRIA
6.07.2008
ROCK THE MAL:L This week was populated by far too many harsh moments, I felt completely battered this week by rude postal clerks, rude airline passengers, rude rock show attendees...no, they weren't all French. But sheesh, the human race was really trying hard to make me not a fan. Then there were some just plain bad luck bits...somehow, my new credit card from my bank account here in France just plain disappeared (and when I went to my bank to try and sort it out in person, they decided for some reason to close my branch early that day. I rode a bus there, found it was closed at 4pm for some {?} reason and rode the bus back. Now that's a sad day). Packages that I mailed to myself at great expense from the states showed up at my return address (my mom's house) for no apparent reason. In many ways, it was a shitty week. One day I slept thru my alarm (as did Dom) and we missed getting Aden to school on time (they lock the doors, and you can't get in for love nor money). Seriously, all this in one week. Not just for me, tho--I went to see Tapes N' Tapes this week, one of the most hyped indie bands of the last couple of years, play to barely 60 people in a club here in town, and they definitely did not rise to the occasion. They sulked, barely spoke to the audience, and were, I thought, highly average. OK, there were some good bits. I saw/made the hang with perhaps the most hyped band of the moment, Fleet Foxes, when they played Paris this week. They keyboard player, Casey, is the brother of Blake Wescott, who played in my band Saltine. Casey ended up with the enormous tape machine that I sold them. I guess that will be used to make FF rec's in the future...I also saw Patti Smith and co. play a kind of unplugged show at the Cartier Foundation; Patti's excellent photos, films, and drawings were are part of an exhibition there (which runs for another couple of weeks, check it out if you have the chance) and caught up with Patti's bass/keyboard player, Tony Shanahan, who played a large portion of the bass parts on my album Touched. Claire Chazal, who is probably the most well known new presenter in France, she reads the news on TF1, was standing in front of Dom & I (if you click this link you can see a picture of her and her b.f., who was there too).I got in some tennis one night with my partner Remi who was not 100% on form, so I was able to actually beat him for a change. Well. But the rest of the week was, shall we say, challenging. Just werid, annoying shit just kept happening to me over and over again, like a steady, cold rain blowing in my face. So, I went to Spain. OK, it was planned, but it was a nice refresher, and brightened my mood considerably. TORRELAVEGA, 6/6 One of the many rude people I encountered this week was behind me in the security line when I was heading towards my flight to Bilbao. She was a Spanish woman, I would guess in her late 40s. She had probably failed to notice that I and many of the other people in the security line had been in the check in line with her (she stood right next to me in a parallel line). There was a family--mom, dad, and two daughters--who were squabbling in front of me, having a really rough time staying organized. At one point the dad grabbed the kids out of the stroller to get them thru security; the stroller tumbled, and i grabbed it before it totally flipped over, top heavy with stuff as it was. The dad was grateful, then went back to manhandling his kids. I guess there was a lot of tension. Sure, the lines were long. At some point, anyway, this Spanish woman panicked and thought she was going to miss her flight. Which was also my flight. And the flight of many others still in line behind her. Suddenly *I* was taking too long, and she pushed my stuff out of the way just as I was putting my trays on the belt, and tried to get past me. The nearest security officer tried to restrain her, and to maintain face she yelled at me in a string of surely unprintable Spanish. Sigh. We got thru, she didn't even bother to apologize, and you could see that our flight wasn't even boarding yet on the monitor. Well. I landed in Bilbao, and emerged into the cool air. One of the promoters, Coro, was there to pick me up and drive me an hour or so to the small town of Torrelavega. TLV is about 10 minutes from Santander, and looks remarkably like a mini Santander, very similar layout and of course the buildings look pretty much the same, contagious regional architecture being what it is. We drove straight to the venue, the Andalusian Cultural Center. It's a stucco building tucked under some enormous trees on the edge of a shadowy and tranquil park. There is a kind of awning that covers not just the outdoor tables but also forms a roof for an enclosed space inside which there's a small stage, this is where the show took place. However, behind this stage there is the building's actual wall, and thru a door there you emerge into yet another venue, which was unused and apparently haden't been used in some time. No lights were on, and there random things strewn about the floor, but from what I saw it was quite ornate and lovely, like a little church. But the administration of the ACC don't like rock shows happening there. The rest of the building, at least as I saw houses a bar/restaurant. It's a little beat up and shabby, but very homey. Pit toilet in the men's room tho. Not my scene! I did a quick soundcheck, and went over to the restaurant side to dine on some tortilla, pork ribs, and the universal tuna salad that's served at every spanish dinner. Since it was the Andalusian Cultural Center, naturally I asked for some Pero Ximinez, and naturally they had none. !!! I went back to Coro's apartment to freshen up, and when I came back to the venue Brian Hunt, from the band Half Foot Outside, was already playing. The little show room was already totally packed, I couldn't get anywhere near enough to see, so I chilled in the bar, had a cafe solo, and found to my delighted surprise that Eric, from the band Palace of Sin I produced in Toulouse last year, had driven down with a friend to see the show. Being a free show, you get all kinds of folks showing up, esp. since I guess not too many people play in Torrelavega--I hadn't even heard of the place til this show was booked. But there were definitely some true fans there, people were singing along with some of the songs. There were also some just fucked up freaks who drifted in as there was no cover charge...one girl in particular was so stoned she could barely stand, kept offering me her spliff in the middle of songs, and stuff like that. Somehow I always end up with the acid casualties. You should have seen the girl haunting us after the Posies show in Bellingham. I always think: how do these people even survive? How do they manage to get a fork from up to their lips to get sustenance sufficient for the next day's actions? I mean, really. So, I can't say this was the most delicate of KS shows. I had to go with the fact that people were more excited there was just *a* show in their town than it being my show, and of course it was noisy--the fans also were shhhshssing the talkers a lot and that gets old quick too, as much as I appreciate the sentiment. But it's just as loud as the talking usually. So: let's discuss the highlights, shall we? There were these two girls on the side who kept telling me between songs that they were singers. This was after the show had gotten quite wild so I guess they felt they wanted in on the action. So, I said 'well, sure--what do you want to sing?". Blank looks. "Like, what songs do you know?" Blank looks. Eventually I got one of them up to sing--with heavy lyrical assisstance from me, "Stairway to Heaven" in its ENTIRETY. Like, be careful what you demand of KS when he's onstage. You might just get your wish. There were some nice duets with Brian Hunt on a couple of Long Winters tunes. Samy, the promoter, who looks like a more fit Jason Alexander (no glasses), drunkenly playing "Sweet Jane" on my guitar, while I accompanied him on a pipe organ sound!! My own solo version of Led Zep's "Communication Breakdown". A rare performance of "Spanish Waltz" when someone asked for 'something Spanish'. I spent some time talking with a video camera that I apparently thought was alive. Someone managed to bring me a glass of Pedro Ximinez in the middle of the show! And so on! People, myself included, had a great time. They bought lots of CDs which is always a sign that people liked the show. It was a wild, weird, unusual KS show. But I also did my usual stuff--even after the night was mostly over, and alot of the crazy stuff had happened, and it seemed like I would abandon my own material, a fan requested "Death of A City" and I happily obliged. After most people had left, and a few of us were in the bar drinking (it was obligatory to have a shot of the local liquor, a foul spirit that I don't recommend--I mean, ah, yes, delicious, thank you, no, really!). Eric produced a banjo, and we had a big old singalong, Brian playing a few songs, Eric's friend Simon playing a few songs, Samy tried to do something...it was tons of fun. We visited another bar, and then when we arrived in some crap nightclub I told everyone that's as far as I was going. We went back to Coro's place (he was nice enough to take the two Frenchmen in his flat as well), and even Samy ended up crashing there. I had poured myself a glass of wine but I never drank it. I passed out and woke up in not too bad of shape this morning. Samy and his lovely g.f. drove me to Bilbao airport this afternoon, and we had a cafe in the airport bar before I headed off. Everyone was so friendly, it really helped my mood. Made my week! They gave me some bread, called El Macho, as a little gift--it's more or less pound cake, actually. It's baked crack, is what it is...Aden wouldn't stop eating it. Yum! Bedtime now. Here's to a better week. Oh, also, I was directed to a kind of blog from the Loud Family/Game Theory's Scott Miller, where he said very nice things about "Death of A City" and claimed it the 'song of the year' for 2004. Follow this link and scroll down. Love KS Paris
6.01.2008
Well, I got my mega post up before midnight last night. Hope ya'll enjoyed. Today I had a pique-nique with Aden and some of her school friends for her birthday, and did a photo shoot for Elle Scandinavia. And drank the last of my Pedro Ximenez. Worth every euro centime. If you can read German, here's a review of the Sellout! Covers EP. Also, I hope to get some photos up this week...still moving a bit slow around the office, digging out the sediments of several weeks' worth of absence. The 'Cassadaga' album by Bright Eyes is really, really good, a great recording and beautiful songs. Thanks Brian! I've also been enjoying: Wildbirds & Peacedrums Robert Plant & Alison Krauss 'Raising Sand' (I know it's been out for awhile, but I heard it first in a French taxi cab). Buck 65 'Talking Honky Blues' Serge Gainsbourg 'Vue de L'exterieur' Cinderpop 'Their Skies Are Beautiful' Bill Cosby & Quincy Jones 'The Original Jam Sessions 1969' !!! 'Louden Up Now' and, for film, check: 'Air Guitar Nation'. I put up some new photos. Rock On. Love KS Paris
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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!!!
older news :
8/3/2003
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