7.25.2009 I'm keeping this one short. You know the drill. I worked really hard on the Sad Knights rec. this week. Prob. pushed 'em too hard. They're freaking out. But I know the tracks are great. Prob. have to mix it to prove me right. Had a short day off at home, yesterday I flew home from Toulouse, the girls were at the summer place so I listened to records and watched a DVD of a Norwegian series called 'Reinlykke'which documents the life of a Sami reindeer herding family for a year. And tonite I flew to Sandefjord and had drinks with the Disciplines, we will be rehearsing here this week. I'm tired. This week was hard. Good night. Love KS Larvik, NORWAY 7.21.2009 I ended up staying an extra day in Alicante--I went to the train station on Monday, and all the trains were sold out. So I bought a ticket for the next day and spent the evening with the Oh Libia! guys, specifically at Javi’s house, eating his mom’s cooking and watching Godard’s wonderful surrealist prototype for ‘Natural Born Killers’, ‘Pierrot le Fou’. We had something called ‘Licor de Miel’ after dinner, which a honey infused into a base of...well, they couldn’t explain what. ALTAFULLA, 7/14 Remember when I played the Faristol Bar & Restaurant in this small town near Tarragona a couple of summers ago? Well, when I called up to see what my friends in Barcelona were doing, I found out that they were all heading to the Faristol for its 30th anniversary party. I didn’t want to miss that, for sure. If you are a frequent reader you will find that Nacho Arola is my BCN buddy. And thus I am well familiar with and a fan of his band Poet in Process. Lynne, the singer of the band, is the daughter or Augustin and Lynne, owners of the Faristol. Her dad Augustin left Spain for England in 70s, and taught at Bristol University, where he fell in love with Lynne, one his students, and they married, and moved back to Spain a few years later. Being a bit of a musician, he searched for a place to have a jazz club in Altafulla, and ended up taking over a wonderful house, almost in ruins, from the 18th century. To my eye most of the houses in AltaFulla are about the same age, from about 1750, and about the same size--big--my theory being, at that time, several generations lived under one big roof. A bit like the family compounds you see in Morocco, but more vertical, with tiny staircases leading you to secretive towers and all kinds of wonderful, tiny spaces. Well, the Martis soon found that a jazz club in this village wasn’t exactly what the town was looking for, and started renting out rooms and serving food in the terrace, and soon they had a bustling little enterprise, respected as one of the best kitchens in the area. 30 years later...here I found myself, having jumped off the Alicante-Barcelona train in Tarragona, I purchased a ticket for Altafulla, just one more stop up the Barcelona line (but my Alicante-originating train didn’t stop there). I had about an hour’s wait, then the train scooped me up and dropped my a few miles up the track, and I hiked up, in the blazing sunshine, the hillside thru the village to my accommodations a few doors from the Faristol (already fully booked). I settled in and wandered over to the Faristol and met Poet in Process, who were playing on a stage in the garden. The usual tables for dinner were gone, long tables were around the edge of the garden, which would be literally covered in food and wine. As it turns out, there was no one to run sound so I happily volunteered. Not much to work with, the Faristol had a small 6 channel PA, three mic stands, and three mic cables. Someone had brought some more mics (but no more cables). Lynne had her own expensive Neumann vocal mic, but the PA had no phantom power so it didn’t work. So. I put a D112 on the kick drum; a kind of SM58 for the vocal, and a DI line for Lynne’s acoustic. I EQ’d the PA so it sounded very good, actually, and by balancing the playing of the players, and EQing the vocal and acoustic guitar slightly, it sounded awesome. They are good players, so they can mix themselves, more or less, always the sign of a good band. As it turns out, there was a support act, a duo playing African music. Simonal, the singer, is from Mozambique, and he plays some percussion. His bandmate Chris is from Germany, not African in anyway, but has become super proficient on the kora, an African harp. He plays percussion as well. So, vocal mic for simonal; mic for the percussion, and a DI line for the sampler/looper that Chris uses--his mic for percussion, his kora, etc. all plug into the looper. As a volunteer soundguy, I did well for these guys too--I only had one brief feedback moment when Simonal put the mic too deep in this kind of pottery urn thing that is a deep resonant percussion instrument. Other than that I was fantastic at my job. I got steadily more drunk--as there were so many delicious wines to try. I think my favorite of the night was a white Priorat--I am huge fan of Priorat red wine (the Priorat area is just a few miles inland from Altafulla), had no idea they made whites, and was delighted to find this evening’s example delicious. Well, Poet was great and I did a bang up job on the sound. Also to explain my inebriated state further was the fact that the food was in motion--trays of little sandwiches and other delights, and you had to be fleet of foot and finger to grab it as it passed, and I was into my task at the PA...running out front to listen, running back to the mixer on the side to adjust, plus change guitar strings and whatever else I could do. However, I kept my sanity--saying ‘no’ to mimosas and as usual avoiding hard liquor so it was just a wine buzz, and a quality one at that. But, when a bass player and drummer took to the stage much later, I was urged to front the ensemble, and we ran thru a brief set of covers and KS songs, and man, I was in no shape to be onstage, but it was fun and no one else there was in any different condition. The two guys I played with were amazing--they could follow pretty much anything I could come up with. Oh, also, my Itunes were the DJ for the night, so I was always running my vibe in the background, which I love to do. At 2, it was time to let the neighbors sleep so I shut down, and realized I needed to go straight to bed. And so I grabbed my laptop and made a run for it. But the atmosphere of the night was superb, very familial and fun. The next day I stumbled over to the Faristol and found various members of Poet in P. stumbling into the sunlight and pretty much yowling in pain. I quit relatively early so I was OK. We went around the corner to a very unpromising looking bar that turned out to have amazing food--I had grilled pigs trotters with foie gras, with a little sauce of olive oil, honey, and mustard seed; salad with anchovies; gazpacho; and, as is custom in Catalan places, you ask for wine by the glass and you get wine in a square flask, take what you want. Nice and cold red wine, one glass of dog hair and I was cured, and delicious food to boot. My whole lunch as described was about 12 euros. Unbelievable. After lunch I helped load up the Poet gear into their van and helped bring the hundreds of dirty glasses to the kitchen. And then we all went to the beach and played in the waves for hours. I rode back to BCN with Poet and helped them load in to their rehearsal place--two girls coming out of their space saw me and soon I was getting my photo taken and such, the Poet band was impressed hahaha! BARCELONA, 7/16 DJing is easy money. I really think so. I dined for free at Arola Arts restaurant, the BCN establishment of Nacho Poet’s brother, Sergi. Again, if you have been reading this blog you’ll know that I am a fan of Sergi, since the first time REM had a special exclusive meal at his Madrid restaurant. And, it turns out, Sergi is a fan of mine, too. Before his star as a chef ascended, he was playing in bands as well. So, he’s into the rock & roll, big time. And thru him I met Nacho, his brother--and Nacho programs musical events on the terrace at the Barcelona restaurant. I have played solo shows there on a couple of occasions in the past, and this time I was DJing. No soundcheck, no backline to arrange. No voice to protect. Just slam on the tunes and mix the endings into the beginnings. I spent a day or so planning the set and checking segues (I use Torq software to mix inside my computer). And then there was no scramble to figure out what to look for, I had it all loaded in Torq and just cued up each track and let each one rip. Did some scratching, and phase shifting, and threw in a couple of unplanned numbers. I had two complaints that it was too loud during the course of the 3 hours I did my set, which I took as a compliment each time. Friends were there, people were having fun. Me too. Now, before my set, I had dinner of course. And what can only be described as a truly mind-blowing wine, The Benjamin Romeo Contador 2004. A 100% Tempranillo from Rioja, 100 Points in Robert Parker’s estimation. Though this wine was slightly young, it opened up quickly and was fully enjoyable and profound. Deep waves of black cherry, hints of cedar, pencil lead, blackberry jam...the fruit was dark and bold and the mineral element was restrained but adding notes to the crest of each wave of taste. The food had no trouble keeping up; I think my favorite partner for this wine were the raviolis with oxtail and herbs. This put me in quite a high for my DJ set, but the beauty of wine of this quality is that tho I had most of the bottle (I sent a glass to Nacho, and a sip to Reyes from Gibson Guitars who had delivered the case for my Flying V that the Sad Knights gave me) there was no aftereffects the next day. The high was lived out in the night. The next morning I was up at 7.30. I had my suitcase, and now to add to that I had 68 copies of Soft Commands that Houston Party delivered to me; 10 Disciplines shirts that our manufacturer in Paris had shipped to me, and a Flying V case. So, I put as many CDs as I could, plus the shirts, in the suitcase. Filled the case with more CDs. Then I had a box of 25 to carry to by hand. I went to the new BCN airport--BCN used to be Terminal A B & C, even as I flew out of there 2 months ago. Now, A B &C are part of what is now called Terminal 2, and there is now the enormous, gleaming Terminal 1. Green glass and silver soaring in an arc over your head. I saw the unmistakable march of a tour manager--6’ 3”, long hair, black t shirt, black shorts--striding over to the business class check in for Spanair, and saw he was checking SMV --Stanley Clarke, Marcus Miller, and Victor Wooten’s bass guitar tour de force. However, when I brought my (empty) flying V case to special handling, I got mine on first--they pulled the other shit off the belt to let mine thru. Who’s the rock star? Who’s the best tour manager? Also--my stuff was overweight and I talked them out of the fee. I fell asleep pretty much as soon as I was on the plane, it was hot and stuffy and it was still quite early. I woke up and realized we weren’t moving. In fact, I had been asleep for an hour. The plane had a mechanical problem, and it was another 30 minutes before we took off. So, when we landed in Copenhagen, my flight to Trondheim was just going wheels up. So, I was booked on a flight to Oslo; there I claimed my bags for customs purposes (although they custom-arily don’t look at anything or anyone coming thru), rechecked in for my subsequent flights, dropped my guitar case at special handling, went thru security (just in front of Norwegian Eurovision champ Alexander Ryback (who seems to have had his eyebrows designed in the same shop they made the Thunderbirds puppets) and ran to my gate, just in time. From there, flew to Trondheim, then boarded Wideroe flight to my destination, Bronnoysund. These little prop flights stop along the way, so touched down in Rarvik to drop a few folks and 10 minutes later continued on for the 15 minute hop to BNN. By now it was after 10pm and I was pretty burnt from all the travel and some stress involved. So, I went to my odd little hotel, the Corner Motell. There was a bar downstairs, and they held the keys since reception was only open during the day. I went up to my room, and was about to enjoy some rest when a band took the stage in bar below. 1am it was, I had just checked my mail and done some reading and it was time for blissful slumber. The sun had gone down at 11, but it was back up again, it was light anway. And these guys started playing, a mix of styles reminiscent of U2, 7 Mary Three, and Matchbox 20 with what sounded like a former army drill sergeant singing--well, maybe a former artillery instructor since the guy was obviously at least partially deaf. My god. At 2 it was over. And you know, from the applause I could clearly hear thru the paper-thin floor...people loved it. BRONNOYSUND, 7/18 I was up for breakfast and at noon packed up and walked a hundred yards over to my new hotel, the Thon, prob. the largest in town. Thon are usually modern but this place was pretty beat up. It was a recent acquisition by Thon and is scheduled to be partially demolished and rebuilt in their style. The pool was drained for this project, unf. I spent most of the day chilling in my room--it was a bit brisk for a walk. But I did walk over to another hotel for lunch. The sun was out, but the wind didn’t let its rays stay on you long enough to do much good. The guys arrived and I spent some time getting things signed, giving them copies of the latest releases etc. We had dinner and then drove over to the venue. The festival was being held indoors--the main stage was an old fish hanging warehouse, and the other shows were in little bars, like the one last night. So, the backline was up, the stage was very pro, soundcheck was easy. After a couple of months off, it was good to be back in the D’s! We were supposed to go on at 9, but I have no idea why. No one was ready to go inside yet on a nice night like that. So we changed it to 10, just like that. That worked out well, people started coming in as a guy started to make an introduction for us--I jumped in front of him and made an introduction to him! Hahah. That was already funny, so the crowd was getting an idea of what they were in for. So, we played, and since I was out of practice I took it easy in some ways, no backflips, anyway. But I was in great form...my voice had a couple of weak moments but being so out of practice it was understandable. In general it was a fierce, extremely funny and highly rocking show. The audience was totally ours so that made it easy. We played 12 songs, which was shorter than the time we had, and that worked, too--everyone wanted more, and they didn’t get it, and rather than being mad, they took it out on our merch table, buying up literally everything we had. When the shows are good, all these little physics things work out. Like when we played Mono a couple years ago and I whipped my mic chord and it cut a beer bottle cleanly in half--on the beat, and everyone saw. This time I yanked up the mic stand, and the top half pulled out of the bottom half, as if I meant to do that. The base and the bottom half were wobbling on this table that was serving as the ego ramp between the stage and the barricade....wobble wobble wobble and it came to rest. It at first looked like it would fall over and conk someone in the crowd but it didn’t. There were lots of moments like that. Oh, another good one...I ran out and *past* the crowd with my long cable, and all the way out of the venue to the smoking area, and jumped on a bench and then started to climb the fence, singing to the seagulls. The person sitting on the bench got up so when I jumped back down on it, it shot up like a seesaw, and I reacted like a cat...propelling myself back up onto the fence and grabbing a hold and then jumping past the bench to the ground...ALL WHILE SINGING AND USING ONE HAND TO HOLD A MIC. Well, I felt pretty sorry for El Cuero who had to follow all that. They came out playing kind of Drive By Truckers stuff and people were just...unable to give much more. We killed ‘em, and made sure they STAYED dead. I had an offer to go to some party on an island with bands playing and I *knew* that would make the next day much more difficult...it’s dangerous to go drinking where there is no night. So, today, Sunday as I write this, I had another long itinerary--flying from Bronnoysund to Trondheim; on to Copenhagen, and now I’m waiting for my flight to Paris, on one of SAS’ jets in vintage livery. I left my hotel at 1, and I’ll prob by in my door 11 hours later (if I’m lucky), and tomorrow I’ll be up at 6 to catch my flight to Toulouse. With JB jamming in the Ultimate After Hours Club in the Sky, I think I get HWMiSB title, no? Love KS CPH Terminal 3. Addendum: I did indeed get up at 6 and fly to Toulouse for sessions with the Sad Knights at Studio ATL. 11 songs in 4 days, with me playing keyboards live and the helping to engineer the rest. Long, hot (90 F) days and incredible thunderstorms at night. We're halfway done...but, the workload is insane. Love KS Toulouse 7.13.2009 You know, I try and play this journalistic thing with this stupid blog. But sometimes, it has to be said, and there's no more eloquent way to say it than: the guys/girl in Oh, Libia are exceptionally kind and generous, and they took care of me this last week as if I was royalty. God bless 'em. And thank you. KS Alicante 7.12.2009 Feeling much better by the time I left for Alicante on Monday. I was met at the airport by J.T. from Oh, Libia!. We dropped the things at his family home by the beach, and then went to Monophonic Studios, where we'd be recording for the week. Monophonic is in the back of a tiny music shop/pawn shop/repair shop...and is itself tiny, just a little bitty control room and a little bitty recording room. There's an 8 channel Studer desk, and an 8 track Studer recorder, 1 inch tape, an A80 VU MkIV. Similar to the 24 track I used to have and sold to Fleet Foxes. The studio is run by a wonderful guy called Bola, who also runs a bar (called Mono) and plays in a band Los Carnivoros--go to the myspace of the studio and you'll see the bar and the band in the top friends. Bola repairs gear, and this allows him to have a high maintenance baby like the A80--in a place like Alicante, where summer temperatures hover around 90, and the AC can't do much about it. So, we went to the studio, and did a little set up, sort of mapped out what could/would/should happen in our 5 days. Each morning we had a wonderful routine--up at 9, and straight to the beach, which is just across the road from the house. Swim in the sea, then walk over to a beachside bar called 'El Popeye' for a cafe, and maybe a pastry or a bit of tortilla. Then walk back to the house and rinse off with a swim in the sun-heated pool. Shower up and go, by car or a tram that stops right by the house, to the studio. Work noon-midnight. That was the routine. In between, we recorded 12 songs in lightning fast mode. The band was four people when I saw them in Paris this winter--J.T., who plays guitar and sings; 'Frus' who took on many names--Fruswell, for his alien-like qualities, 'Frussi' for fun--is 18, plays guitar and sings. Great. Born in 1991, he loves 90s music the best. Elena, 18. Plays tambourine and glcokenspiel. Born in the Ukraine, she's lived most of her life in Spain. Oscar, the band's Bez! He dances. But actually he plays keyboards too. Computer programmer by day. Since then they have added JuanJo on keyboards, he's more of a piano man, where Oscar makes synth noises. When I saw them, their delicate mix of guitars and synth blips and glockenspiel made sense to me to record live, but another new factor came in to play, a really great one: J.T. works in the network of tourist offices, offices that help people living here--like the thousands of British expats in the area--get their paperwork done, change money...all kinds of services. One day, a fella walks in to change money, a British guy, and he and J.T. start talking and turns out he's a drummer. Trevor Morell--born in Barbados, moved to UK as a teenager, picked up the drums, and in starting in the 80s, became one of the most in demand session drummers in Britain--playing with Wham!, Kim Wilde, the Bee Gees, Sade, and many many more. So, Trevor agreed to play drums with this little psychedelic band from Alicante. Of course he brought more gear than could fit in Monophonic, but quickly got what the scoop was and rolled with it. Played on the studio's vintage Ludwig kit, and helped the band get organize (OK, *how* many bars is this bridge?") and played wonderfully. He hits HARD. But it worked, and the live sound of all the people crammed in this tiny room, was really cool. Crazy little weird factoid: not 3 months ago, I was in the studio of Trevor Morais. Trevor Morell, Trevor Morais. Both born in the Caribbean (Barbados/Trinidad); both emigrated to UK and started playing drums, both moved to Spain and settled here...both hit the crap out of their drums and even tho they can play jazz and funk, do something really great--play a kind of John Bonham thing that works against softer music--electronic, this kind of psych folk of Oh Libia!. Both very kind people. We spent two days tracking drums, then the next three doing the few overdubs (vocals, mostly) and tracking songs without drums. Bola engineered, and I concentrated on musical direction, English pronounciation, and occasionally playing a part on guitar or bass. We had to work fast, 12 songs in 5 days is quite ambitious and it's not 2 guits/bass/drums rock & roll. Bola was really great at anticipating my needs as the process to switch between recording and listening back was a bit cumbersome and the tape machine was across the room. So I ran the machine and Bola the desk. Bola set up mics and we both checked levels. We had a few old mics, a couple of modern ones. Some old Ampex mic pres, and one cheap DOD compressor, which we used for vocals or whatever needed it. I'm really excited about the sound. The live, bleed in all the mics sound is really important. It adds a lot. Each night we took dinner at the cafe side of a great neighborhood restaurant, the Pacha. The restaurant side was always empty as we were there from 9-10pm. Too early for ALicante folks. We ate sardines and anchovies and brochettes and little sandwiches and all kinds of wonderful things. Tinto de verano to wash it down. And back to work. On the last day, we finsihed, made an unsuccessful attempt to transfer the tapes to digital (this will have to happen later, and Bola had to leave to play a gig). And now, on Sunday, we're at the beach house, listening to vinyl LPs (which seem to be in abundance, reiussed versions of everything you can imagine), having barbecue, swimming and taking sun. Amazing times. Love KS Alicante (Muchavista) 7.04.2009 I had two amazing days (plus a get-in night) mixing Acda en de Munnik at the legendary ICP studios in Brussels. This is part of what's been a very fruitful collaboration with JB Meijers, which started with his invitation to have me sing on his upcoming solo album (which I've now heard as completed and it's outtasite--hitting on elements of Todd Rundgren, Neil Young, and even Alice In Chains...in a great way). JB is a kind of Todd, he can play all the bits, work a studio from any perspective, and organize complex music into...well, whatever he wants. First, we had to contend with the fitting in of a marvelous arrangement by Van Dyke Parks. I mean, basically JB was handing me a very big leg up, and I really didn't want to fuck it up. But how to prepare? I listened to a rough mix with a cheap keyboard rendition of the arrangement mixed in. OK. Got the basic idea...in the meantime, JB went around getting the arrangement done. I am not at liberty to drop names, but the first group of musicians, an orchestra, in fact, to take on the arrangement, basically walked out of the session saying it was unplayable. JB was unnerved--we were supposed to mix in a couple of days, but my attitude was: the last time an orchestral piece caused a riot it was Stravinksy, so we're in good company. Well, he found a way to get it done...and after discovering that they had neglected to use his click track or rough mix and recorded it at least 3-5 bpm faster than the track it was going to be on...a little editing and we were somewhat in business. I arrived, and the band, JB and I cracked some Pinot Gris and got to thinking. I told them my inspirations on the track, and they were liking what they were hearing. We made some ideas about chopping some of the arrangement out to make a kind of intro that foreshadows the upcoming full song, just a few seconds. We faked it out on the keyboard, and went to bed wondering how it would all go. So up the next morning, and early to bed and late to bed would be the theme of these days--I swam, breakfasted and spoke on the phone about the Disciplines album to a journalist. Then it was work time. We dove in on building the intro, and I was jumping in as ProTools man, then adding the 3rd and 4th hands to big chords as we augmented some unlinked sections with some...other things. All the while we had Michel, one of ICP's longest running engineer, who worked on many of the classic albums done there, who did engineer the things we added to the track--organ, tambourine, etc....but I was cheeky enough to just jump on the computer and start digging in. We got the intro sorted, I did some tweaking and went in sound by sound. Layer by layer. The vintage Neve console at ICP studio C is just...what you want. Enormous, rich, balanced and sturdy. Slapping vintage Altec compressors on the bass and kick drum instantly gave me a boingy, bouncy, vintage feel for the low end, and I was getting happier and happier. Still, I used the two days we had, tweaking tiny vocal sounds, tuning what I felt could be even more perfect-er, lining up doubles that could be even tighter, and of course, riding levels to give the song dynamics (guidance from the band was essential here). Morning of day two I was up for a swim again (yep, they've got a pool at this studio) and off to do interviews and back to mix, and later, did a radio interview at Pure FM, the French speaking national radio in Belgium. But, it was pretty clear by the end of night one that *I* was happy--and with the band listening the next day, they were really happy. It was a great mix of relief and pride when I got such positive feedback. I can't wait for you to hear it. Acda en De Munnik are two guys--Thomas Acda (who is also an 'acta'--he is regularly featured in Dutch TV & cinema) and Paul de Munnik. They are described as cabaret, they seem to have done a rock opera, but everything I've heard is just well composed, duo-vocal songs...and you know from my career how I feel about harmonies-all-they-way-thru acoustic duos! I am in one, dammit. There are moments in this song that remind me of all the classics--CNSY, Cat Stevens, Seals & Crofts, even Chicago...but it's in the end this great sounding thing, thoroughly timeless and contemporary. I did the ultimate test today, and it sounded just huge on my home rig. With the extra time we had, since the mix was put to bed by 9, we zipped off a live acoustic session of me doing two Disciplines songs in the amazing studio D, with the Deutsche Gramophon Telefunken desk. ICP's mic collection is the world's sickest, most outrageous, hands down. So, everything I did would be thru some insane mic from the 40s or EARLIER. Wowowowowow. So there's a happy ending for ya. LONDON, 7/1 Now, I thought I'd be clever and put all the stuff I needed for these few days abroad in a small bag over my shoulder, plus my computer bag, and my bass. So, I had to strap on two bags (and had taken metro to Gare du Nord this way) and carry my bass and use my free hand to present tickets and what not. JB being the kindest guy on the big blue marble, drove me to the train station...I had some hairy minutes when the UK Immigration at Brussels Midi didn't know what to make of my new fangled work permit--the system had changed recently, but I got on at the last minute. Ouch. Slept all the way. Got to London and navigated with my stuff to the Tube and to my hotel, the Columbia, where I've spent MANY nights. I love it there...then the work began. The passes weren't there. And the night before I had received an email changing all the set times and cutting our set down to 30 minutes. Hmmm. That's a very expensive 30 minutes, I thought. But the promoter rang me to sort out all the shortcomings...passes arrived, but not enough of them--but they were happy to have more names at the will call. Um, didn't you guys tell me over and over that would be impossible? Same with the parking pass that was in the envelope...well, I'm not complaining. But, it would have been cool to have the real dirt in advance...but, I think they were kinda making it up. This whole minifest was made up, to squeeze in some action between a metal fest and Blur's big reunion shows in Hyde Park. Anyway, they were trying to do right and I sent as many sms and texts to everyone as I could to keep them informed. In the end, it all worked. We were interviewed by MOJO. Nice, eh? Now, the walk to the site, in 85 deg. heat, was longer than it said on the map and longer than it looked. And Alex was very skeptical about getting on the golf carts that came to snatch us. But we got there. However, when we arrived, I was the idiot--I had forgotten my earplugs. Back in the golf cart, to the edge of the park, and then running-in boots-in 85 degree heat--200+ yards each way to get them. I did get to do a drive by on Blur's soundcheck on the way back, but I can tell you, I was dyin. Just thinking about it makes me want to drink water. Hold on. OK, *now* I'm rehydrated. Next up, my cable died at soundcheck. But our man, Colin Price, who tours with Iron Maiden mind you, had me sorted out quicklike, and there was a music shop set up on site. We were pretty relaxed about soundcheck, and when they told us we had five minutes left we were already happy, so only Terry Edwards from the Tindersticks (and much more...he has a MASSIVE CV) and the rest of the crew had the distinct pleasure of watching Alex lead us thru 'Start me Up' and 'Happy' by the Stones...I'll let you roll on that one for awhile. Now, dinner wasn't starting til 6.30 and we were on at 7 and we all needed something. So we were at catering at 6.28 when it opened, and they served us. I tried my best to be sensible, with some grilled chicken on a caesar mix with no egg or potato that was offered, and an extra anchovy or two. It was light, mostly protein and a little bit of greenery. I felt fine, but after the show, my stomach was bummed that I'd eaten then rocked out in a tent in summer heat 30 minutes later. It calmed down but more on that later. The show...well, you know, I was just better than ever. I learned to tune my bass to the band, the guitars were having trouble in the heat, and played with this reggae light tap and it worked totally. No bum notes. I was just hitting the groove and you know what, I think all the playing and experience I have been cramming in for the last 25 plus years in music might actually be adding some instinct and feel to my kit. At last. The tent was mercilessly empty when we started, but it filled up in like 1.5 songs, and all was good. So it was done! I paid the bills, and just zoned out on it. Watched some Tindersticks, and rested in the shade. Had the horrible wine that was ours to 'enjoy'. Lots of water. And then suddenly it was over...I had just zoned out in my chair and it was all over. Time to head over to the Columbia. My bass had been dropped off by Colin's car when he hit the road, so I just had one light bag. As I walked under a big light in the dark, an enormous moth landed at my feet. I picked it up, and it walked on my hand, and took off again. It was at least 4 inches wide. Back at the Columbia, Alex had his table, and I had mine, more or less! We were holding it down pretty well. I had Henrik, and two of the Wellingtons, and a posse built around that. Alex had Ian Johnsen, our old pal, on his team. A table of concession carnies were in between. Insufferable wine once again. I was droopy dog in no time. Off to bed. The next day I was up for breakfast, which was nothing to sneeze at, ah, erm. Check out at 11.30 sharp no exceptions. Ok. Stowed my bag away and took my computer bag and found a little netcafe near the hotel ate lunch and netted away. Then I went back to the Columbia, grabbed my bag and bass, walked to the Tube, and with one change I was at St. Pancras (not the most beautiful names that have traveled down in history to us IMHO) and had time to chill and do more (free) netting, buy a Cadbury Egg for my daughter, and board the train to Paris. Now, I was pretty tired, and unsettled slightly. British food? Much more often the cause of problems than solutions. I did my best to get down a sandwich and a tea but it was not *on*. I fell asleep. I woke up in France. And I felt truly weird. Stomach jumbling, headache, and gooseskin coming up all over. I called Dom and told her my symptoms. She started to prepare for the worst, but in the meantime I was to be quarantined--no kisses, no hugs. Wipe down all the surfaces I touched on the way in with disinfectant. This was all just in case it was a nasty flu--which I was showing all the symptoms for. Mostly, I was just crashing. By the time we got to Gare du Nord I couldn't face the metro. I got in line for a cab. A huge, colorfully dressed, imposing black man was having a serious throw down with the front cab, with a driver that looked like Alan Greenspan. Somehow, the thwarted passenger exercised restraint and with a few pride saving fuck you's was off. The cue moved forward. I was about to wilt. I could barely keep my eyes open, or stand up. I have a feeling the guy behind me walked into my bass case and it knocked his cell phone into pavement shards. Ooops. But maybe it wasn't me. Anyway, I was in a trance, the whole world was happening to someone else. I managed to get up stairs, somehow...and went straight to bed. Aden was prepped so she told me---no kisses, no touching! Eventually Dom was home from work, and the doctor came, and he said it appeared to be a double ear infection--which was weird because that's usually very painful. Not flu. So, no guys in white hazmat suits. I had just enough strength to cancel all my appointments for the next day, and I fell asleep. In the morning, Friday morning...agony. My back had reacted to all the stress of the bags and the stress of my Big Star day's minor chaos, and running in hot weather, and god knows what else. I couldn't lay, I couldn't sit, I couldn't stand. The fever was better but the back thing...like new bone had grown in my shoulder where a bone should know better. Muscle relaxants, pain killers, antibiotics...I was on a real cocktail. However, by nighttime, I was feeling a *little* better. I spent the day definitely not lucid. But at about ten that night I was declared safe and we all couched together and watched 'L'Armee des Ombres' the 60's masterpiece following the French Resistance in WWII, directed by short-lived autuer Jean-Pierre Melville. It only came to American screens 3 years ago--NY Times, Newsweek, LA Weekly, etc called it the best foreign film of the year. Can't recommend it highly enough. Today the girls went off on family business, and I stayed behind to recoup, not transmit (just in case), and i caught up on stuff--hours of Disciplines related accounting, mixing my radio session from ICP, doing interveiws, a podcast, lyrical pronunciation for the Sad Knights, you name it. I added a few things to the Robert Wilcox stack of tracks at his request...and now this. I'm feeling *way* better, I think it wise to follow this quick recovery up with some sleep. Oh, pills first... 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!!! Subscribe to the RSS feed to keep up to date on all things KS! older news : 8/3/2003 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004 12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005 10/01/2005 - 11/01/2005 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005 12/01/2005 - 01/01/2006 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006 02/01/2006 - 03/01/2006 03/01/2006 - 04/01/2006 04/01/2006 - 05/01/2006 05/01/2006 - 06/01/2006 06/01/2006 - 07/01/2006 07/01/2006 - 08/01/2006 08/01/2006 - 09/01/2006 09/01/2006 - 10/01/2006 10/01/2006 - 11/01/2006 11/01/2006 - 12/01/2006 12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007 01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007 02/01/2007 - 03/01/2007 03/01/2007 - 04/01/2007 04/01/2007 - 05/01/2007 05/01/2007 - 06/01/2007 06/01/2007 - 07/01/2007 07/01/2007 - 08/01/2007 08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007 09/01/2007 - 10/01/2007 10/01/2007 - 11/01/2007 11/01/2007 - 12/01/2007 12/01/2007 - 01/01/2008 01/01/2008 - 02/01/2008 02/01/2008 - 03/01/2008 03/01/2008 - 04/01/2008 04/01/2008 - 05/01/2008 05/01/2008 - 06/01/2008 06/01/2008 - 07/01/2008 07/01/2008 - 08/01/2008 08/01/2008 - 09/01/2008 09/01/2008 - 10/01/2008 10/01/2008 - 11/01/2008 11/01/2008 - 12/01/2008 12/01/2008 - 01/01/2009 01/01/2009 - 02/01/2009 02/01/2009 - 03/01/2009 03/01/2009 - 04/01/2009 04/01/2009 - 05/01/2009 05/01/2009 - 06/01/2009 06/01/2009 - 07/01/2009 07/01/2009 - 08/01/2009 08/01/2009 - 09/01/2009 09/01/2009 - 10/01/2009 10/01/2009 - 11/01/2009 11/01/2009 - 12/01/2009 12/01/2009 - 01/01/2010 01/01/2010 - 02/01/2010 02/01/2010 - 03/01/2010 03/01/2010 - 04/01/2010 04/01/2010 - 05/01/2010