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
