Ken Stringfellow dot calm

2.21.2010

At the last minute, airport officials came thru saying the flight from Abu Dhabi to Paris had changed gates-confusing because on the departure screens the flight was still shown at the old gate. In fact, the new gate was in another terminal, which meant another security screening, but when we hustled to the new gate (past this insane atrium that was lit like a casino but in fact was a giant doughnut--the lining of the hole was in blue and green tile...startling) there was no crew yet to take care of us so we had to stand there for quite a while til they got it sorted out. The control tower of Abu Dhabi is a giant sail-shape it was floating in the mist. The fog that had made our landing so eerie--it clung to to the ground, glowing from the submerged buildings--had lifted, but now things were running late as a consequence of the now dissipated mist. But, we took off, and landed in Paris just an hour late, and it wasn’t long before I was pulling up to my home and Dom & Aden came down to the street to help me and my things upstairs. One month and one week and one day since I left them, it was great to be home again. Normally westward travel gives you a kind of jet lag that is beneficial--you never need sleep. When I land in Seattle, I have practically limitless energy and no need for sleep. It’s when I go east, like home to Paris, that I usually pay the price--it feels like I’ve been hit with a tranquilizer dart and basically my brain decides that when in doubt, fall asleep, and it’s always in a state of doubt. So, here I was, arriving in Paris but from the east, so this should work out great. But it wasn’t *quite* the same--I would nod off around 9pm, and be bolt-upright awake at 5. On the first day, I had some stomach trouble, so I crawled into the bath to sooth my innards and took the meds I have to take for that trouble, and that made me sleepy. I used a washrag to maintain a little Adam-and-Eve style dignity, and Aden took it upon herself to nurse me, bringing me water, and toys, should I need to play in the bath. In fact, when Dom tried to care for me, Aden chased her off...”you’re BOTHERING him” “Yes, Aden, but I think he is OK with it” “NO. It’s *my* papa and I am taking care of him”. Don’t worry, folks, within a day or so Aden was back to telling me I’m fat and stupid, and nasty besides.

Most of the week was spent catching up on emails and activities that had just been impossible to get to while I was traveling. This included organizing all the info for the upcoming Disciplines shows in Germany & Austria...I was cutting and pasting show schedules, train and flight times, press requests, etc into one document. Now, where are those flights for the guys...we soon discovered that the guys had forgotten to buy their plane tickets to Hamburg and home from Cologne...and that was NEXT WEEK. AHHHH!!! But they sorted it out, and it was only a little more expensive than it would have been if they had done it when I asked them to, back in December. So, no big deal in the end. So, more or less, I slept a lot, hung out with Aden & Dom, watched Star Wars on TV in French, and itemized my receipts from 2009. Listened to some music, and took Aden to school, and took Dom out for Valentine’s (we traditionally have our Valentine’s date on a different day than the 14th Feb--that night is when restaurants serve overpriced menus and the real chefs take the night off) at the Meurice (yes, it was expensive, yes she’s worth it). On the Monday after my Sunday return, we dropped Aden at school and then went to have our traditional cafe and pains au chocolats at Maison Karrenbauer, our favorite little place that has the best ones in town (and Pierre, the owner, is always giving us little treats--like a slice of flan, just ‘cuz. Well, not just ‘cuz. Aden has charmed her way into being the local rockstar, and every cafe/store/restaurant on the street falls over themselves to give her free hot chocolates, candy...I mean, I spend hundreds of euros a year on that block and am lucky to get bread with my meal!)...I was so looking forward to it, and their oven was broken so they didn’t open that day! AhHhhhH! and monday means no boulangeries are open. Oh well.

One afternoon I was at the computer and I decided to bite my fingernail, and some how, a whole bunch of one of my teeth just pulverized and broke off. What the??

VIENNA, 2/19

I felt a bit bad that I hadn’t been able to do much to promote these shows in Austria and Germany, and hoped that the label had been able to do enough, etc. I hadn’t seen a lot of activity online, but then again, I hadn’t had time to look. But, Vienna is usually pretty good, but still...I had some doubts. I did what I could via MFT (myspace/facebook/twitter, naturlich) and prayed for rain.

No problem getting up at 5.30, in fact I was up at 5 anyway. I padded around and got ready to hit the trail, kissing Dom & Aden goodbye before heading out the door, they were still asleep tho. I caught a cab relatively quickly and at that hour we had no problems getting to Orly, cheaply--so cheaply I tipped the guy 2 Euros, which is kind of unheard of, but...it’s nice to boost your karma with a little generosity. Check in was done, and I headed to the gate. Kind of bummed that nowhere I looked were Herald Tribunes available. Do they even print it anymore? Maybe they stopped making newspapers while I was in Australia. This kind of stuff happens--you go on tour, and come back, and all your friends have changed their names and grown beards and joined communes and you don’t know what the hell is going on anymore.

Anyway, I fell asleep immediately after we took off, I have really grown accustomed to the window seat, now that’s my preferred position in any flight, it’s great for sleeping. No one crawling over you to get out and a wall to wedge yourself against. We landed in Berlin, and I found myself in Air Berlin’s cute little departure barn. On the flight to Vienna I managed to have a row to myself and I stretched out my legs and fell profoundly asleep. I woke up when the tires hit the tarmac, and as we pulled up to our parking spot I turned my phone on, and found either we had time traveled or we had circled a hell of long time. Turns out to be the latter, for an hour, and everybody else was in the same boat (Plane, actually). Even my bandmates’ plane was pulling up right alongside mine, and they were supposed to be beating me to Vienna by more than half an hour.

The VIE bag claim was anarchy, as usual, but we got our stuff and emerged and found that the the whole cab rank for the airport was...gone...vanished! Now they send you across the street to a hotel where unmetered taxis charge a pretty expensive flat rate to get you into town. This is all new to me, and I was just there in December. We got in a brand new big Merc and zipped to the Hotel Furstenhof, my preferred address in Vienna. We just checked in, dropped our personal effects and got in another cab for the venue, Szene.

Szene was the site of a great solo show of mine a couple of years ago, supporting Trouble Over Tokyo to a nearly full house. It’s prob. the most professional of the club-sized venues, great sound, great big stage, and they are cool about letting the bands and audience hang out at the bar or in the dressing rooms (or in spring/summer, in the terrace) til pretty late. The only drawback is that it’s kind of in the middle of nowhere, so it’s not so easy to get to--but that means there’s no neighbors to complain about noise, which is why they can be so relaxed about their curfew. Shows there are kind of expensive, too, but that didn’t seem to matter....so, some months ago, when this show was announced, a couple of bands lobbied me very hard to be the support band. I knew that Szene was pretty big for us to be playing our first show, so the support band had to be worth some people. The hardest lobbyers, who did all they could to demonstrate they had a good draw, were a band of 18-to-20-year-olds called Chameleonic Cadence. they were really enthusiastic, very nice, and stayed on the task (good, when I have too many things going on to keep track of every detail). I also needed to make sure we had an appropriate backline, including the elusive Vox AC30 amp for Bjorn. And these guys drummed one up for us. Wow. Ok, you’ve got the gig. And you know what? They pushed this show, which had a very high (€15) ticket price, high and low, and really saved our butts. A lot of my regular attendees were not in the house that night, and there were a LOT of young people, which are really the D’s ideal demographic anyway--we play well with the 15-25 age group. So, the joint was totally packed. And we had a super show. Opening band Tanaka were also supported by T-Mobile, so they brought people too, and really, the night was a total success, much to my surprise and relief, actually. FM4 had also done their part to support the gig, which was invaluable. Now, this was unusual, but not only had it been three months since our last shows, but we had a new drummer--Ivar, was filling in for Ralla, as Ralla’s other band was showcasing at By:Larm this weekend. I didn’t even meet Ivar til he arrived in Vienna, but the guys rehearsed with him and said it had gone well. And Ivar, did an amazing job, actually. He really didn’t make any mistakes, and aside from not being sure about a few tempos, his memory was incredible and it really fit right in. I was much more worried about *my* part--soundcheck was great, but when I started moving around, I was winded pretty quick. These are difficult shows to do from a physical point of view, it takes a LOT of energy. I had really grown accustomed to the gentle pace of my solo shows, unfolding in a tropical environment, where my voice is moist and loose, and flexible. Now I was sprinting, lunging AND singing, and in dry winter air that’s twice as hard to get the vocal chords moving in. It was painful, and I held back a little on the running around. A little. Still I managed to drag the audience out of the club for some weirdness in “I Got Tired” and get the whole audience to lay on the floor with me and all that good stuff. Bjorn was rocking so hard he got a nosebleed! Finally we ran out of songs, with “Oslo” being the encore but people were not going to let us go...they were REALLY into it. So, I made Judith, the drummer of Chameleonic Cadence, come up and play ‘Shadow of Your Doubt” with Bjorn and I. Totally loose and fun. People love that stuff, when it’s off the cuff and unique just for their show. I love it too, actually. Hey, it should be said that CC were really great, and super fun, they have an unusual lineup with a female lead singer but also one of the male guitarists sings lead too, so all kinds of things happen in the vocals as the songs go along. They are so into it, and I found out afterwards that their bass player was totally sick, he left as soon as they were done, but he really gave it 1000% since they were so into doing this show. They shared their Jack Daniels with us, and were just sweet as pie. In fact, after the show, we went back to the Furstenhof, and I discovered something I didn’t know in all my times staying there--you can drink in the lobby, the desk clerk serves you (like in old school hotels in UK), as late as you want. Perfect--I wanted to hang out, but I didn’t feel like going to a bar, and it was crappy and rainy out...so, we had a couple bottles of wine and I held court with the CC kids. They are so nice, and it’s funny but of course I still think that everyone is older than me in my head, so I had to remember at times that they are TEENAGERS. Crazy. They’re just nice people, with a lot of enthusiasm, generosity and good spirits.

REGENSBURG, 2/20

When I got down to the lobby to check out the next morning, I found that our drinking session on my room’s tab came to a whopping 7 euros--for two *bottles* of wine and a beer! Gotta love the ‘Hof! Anyway, the guys and I walked across the street to the Westbahnhof, and our train was already waiting. All of Vienna’s (and also some of the regional ones, like St. Polten) train stations are undergoing massive renovation. The main hall of the Westbahnhof is totally torn apart, but the station is still functional, and soon we were on a Deutsche Bahn ICE train zipping at 200 km/h to Regensburg. Still, the trip takes four hours, there’s a lot of stops. But, I had time to have a sit down lunch (I LOVE dining cars on tains) and do some work on the computer, and shoot the shit with the guys and discuss various aspects of strategy for the new album.

We arrived in Regensburg and Dieter, our promoter and a great guy and buddy, was there to meet us on the platform. Dieter is a Posies fan (and an even bigger fan of Redd Kross) who has now hosted me four times in his lovely, medieval town of Regensburg. R’burg is small, about 130,000 people, but has a lot of students so it’s great to play. There’s been a Posies show and two KS shows at the Alte Malzerai, all put on by Dieter, but this time he had us play a new venue, the W1, which is more in the center of town. It’s very chic and modern, also REALLY tiny and cozy, and it’s right in the center so easy for people to get to. We went straight there and started to set up. We were playing with a local band called Old Death Whisper, kind of punk/grunge/art noise...they were like a kinder, if not gentler, Amphetamine Reptile band. Fronted by a fellow named Sebastian who speaks absolutely like an American, having lived in El Paso for a decade. Now, this was news to me, but evidently there is a German Air Force base there?? And later, we met Nadia who was exactly the same--German, but speaking English in 100% accent-less American vernacular. Sebastian is a memorable person, very friendly, funny, cool guy. This show was their first, the band being assembled from components of other musical entities. They rocked it, too.

Dieter’s girlfriend Andrea actually cooked for us! Vegan and vegetarian strudel, which different vegetables. Delicious. And carrot/ginger soup. And Dieter’s flatmate, also named Andrea, baked a cake! THAT is punk rock. ODW did their set, and then we set up, and did ours. There was about 100 people there, which all said was the most that had shown up for a gig at this place ever. It’s small, folks...which was kind of a relief cuz I was hurtin’, i’m a little out of shape, I had no time to get to Pilates the week before the show, and I was already beat up from Vienna. But still, it was great, and let me tell you...Regensburg people are REALLY shy. I was used to it, but if you aren’t...you can be fooled into thinking people aren’t digging it, cuz they don’t move much, don’t clap that much, don’t even look at you much...but it’s totally normal and you always find out after the show how much people are into it. So nice, people in R’burg.

Another problem with D’s shows is that there’s never enough time between dinner and playing, and jumping up and down with food in my stomach means that after the show, I often feel nauseous. It was nice to hang in the backstage room, and we were invited to a DJ night with club NME DJ from UK who was absolutely lovely, but I just couldn’t hack it...plus, we had all our gear to deal with. So, we cabbed to Dieter’s, where we were all staying, and Nadia suggested we try one drink at a nearby bar, a little cinema and late night bar one block away. I said no, but then yes. And we went over, but when we arrived, my stomach was too upset for me to really socialize and I was really tired. I chatted a bit, but then asked Dieter to get me back to his and I immediately crashed, sound alseep.

When I woke up, the guys, Dieter, and Andrea were having breakfast in the kitchen and I joined them...then the guys had to get to their train. Mine was quite a bit later so we hung at Dieter’s and listened to his awesome vinyl collection and chilled. Then at midday Dieter and Andrea drove me to the train station (where we ran into Sebastian and his g.f.) and I took the train to Munich, changing at the Hauptbahnhof for an S-train (a kind of express metro) that took me to the airport, and now...I’m waiting for my flight to Dusseldorf, where I’ll connect to my flight to Paris and be home later tonight. In the meantime, the sun is out, and I’m on my way home.

Or so I thought. Once we arrived in Dusseldorf, I went to the gate, and then we went thru the gate, down some stairs and got on a bus. I was on the phone with my dad, so it sort of took me awhile to realize we hadn't moved. Then they asked us to get off, the flight was delayed. So, we went back up to the gate, waited 45 min...then got back on the bus, waited...and then got off again! Canceled! So, now I am at the provided hotel room, having eaten the free schnitzel (which I love) which Air Berlin gave us, and wishing I was home! boo hoo!

Love
KS
Dusseldorf

2.15.2010

I rounded out my work week with Hannah Gillespie, and in fact by the end of the week, we were able to work at a fairly casual pace (not scrambling to cram everything in like in many cases), taking our time and not having to push Hannah’s voice too hard. The main room of the studio wasn’t air conditioned, unlike the control room, and with temps in the mid to high 80s and no ventilation (it’s a closed space, for purposes of sound) it actually wasn’t that easy for Hannah to be in there too long. Me, for my parts, I didn’t mind. But I have come to realize that I am basically a lizard. Dressed in black, long sleeves, etc. most of the time, I was absolutely happy with the heat. In fact, as I write now, on my way back to Paris, I am ever so slightly nervous about my first encounter with weather other than tropical for the first time in weeks.

When we weren’t in studio, our routine was that Hannah would come and pick me up in the late morning, and we’d go *do* something, something not to do with being in studio. We visited Canberra’s Botanic Gardens, which replicates as many types of vegetation zones as can be found in the country--scrub, temperate rain forest, etc. To my delight, the place was populated by a kind of blue iguana called a water dragon, who were accustomed to human presence to some degree--at least the big ones showed a mix of confidence and laziness that made them approachable.

In terms of cuisine, Duncan, owner of the studio turned us on to Brodburger, which operates out of a bright red caravan in Bowen Park, which is a nice spot, with black swans paddling in a flat lake (pretty much any standing body of water in Canberra is sure to be man made. In fact, the city sits astride an enormous man-made lake...and the structure of the Parliament House is integrated with actual living turf, all odd choices in what is essentially a drought stricken chunk of arid scrub. Ahem. Getting back to Brodburger--I ate there twice--and it is superb, any patriotic feelings for the homeland were erased when I realized this rivaled my beloved Red Mill in Seattle for top burger on the planet, and this place is co-operated by a FRENCHMAN. Which led me to think, why are hamburgers so awful in France, when this is the potential? It’s not like French people don’t eat them--MacDo’s abound--but....nothing that I’d want to eat. I had the BrodDelxue for one meal--two patties, juicy red in the middle, topped with bacon (the Australian kind, which we yanquis would call “Canadian”), and, the stock model comes with a fried egg but I opted out on mine. You have to choose your cheese, and the next day I went for a regular Brodburger--single patty, no egg, but bacon for an extra buck and in all cases you choose your cheese--and for my reg’lar sized burger, I figured all that sizzling beef wasn’t harmful enough from a coronary POV so I chose BRIE. You haven’t tried it = you haven’t lived.

As I mentioned, getting our work done was not a problem. We went back & forth between the analog tape and Digital Performer, added stuff to the basics, including backing vocals from Hannah’s sister Briohny, who has a wonderful voice, which does those fancy little country trills...yeah! Twas a ‘trill to work with her. We had Tony the banjo player, a groovy older cat who ‘flailed’ along (his words). He’s a great banjo player, and evidently and even BETTER dobro player but we didn’t have time to find out. Hannah’s cousin Ben, who plays a lot of far-out jazz, came up for an afternoon from Melbourne, and we assembled a section with him (trombone), Matt, our bass player (alto sax) and Cameron, a horn player. We got them on a song that Ben actually wrote, that really sounds uncannily like classic British folk girl kinda song. Ben is a sensitive soul...awesome. Ben also played on a song that we had tracked 100% live--Hannah singing in the room with us, me on Wurlitzer, Matt on bass and Kev on drums--I took Hannah’s kind of rock arrangement and deconstructed it to a kind of spacey jam, and then had Ben play the song’s only overdub--he played trombone into a mic that fed a delay pedal that was split to two guitar amps---delayed signal out one and direct out another, with amp reverb and all kinds of stuff...perfect addition and rounded out the track.

Temperatures hovered in the low to mid 30s C, (hi 80s F). At one point, Hannah took me one morning to a swimming hole--a lazy bend in a river a short drive outside of Canberra. The ACT was created in an area with not a hell of a lot of stuff around it, so, even now a hundred years later, you leave Canberra and its satellite cities and you are in ranchland and bush pretty quick. Hannah grew up here, so she knows all the spots. In this place, a brown river trudged gently around a little sandy beach on one side, and a small mountain/big hill shot straight up the other side. There was one bloke swimming, cooling his jets, when we showed up, he was in his clothes, baseball cap & all. He left, and we had the joint to ourselves, and got to swimming. As we did...a storm came in. FAST. It was beautiful--a wall of black clouds came over the hill, but the side facing us was still lit by the departing sun--thirsty grass (there’s been a bad drought for months) blazed yellow and the occasional trees were ghost gums so silver and eerie. Then wind came up, and actually made chop on the tiny little eddie we were in...and then lightning and thunder started to kick in, and it was time to get out. The wind was really strong, it was actually taking effort to walk back up the trail to the car. I had to stop to inspect a dead spider a little smaller than my hand if its legs had been extended. Then big drops of rain fell. Locusts with brilliant yellow wings shot out from bushes, fat drops started to fall, and at one point we had to stop driving because the rain fell with such ferocity we couldn’t see. Truly marvelous. From then on, it rained a lot, and Canberra needed it. It was delightful to get back to the house at night, and listen to the rain beat the crap out of the tin roof on the front porch. I fell asleep to that nightly. Yum.

And then it was done--on the last night, we put the last vocals and a guitar track down, started moving everything to my computer so I could take it away and mix it at home (but we mixed one track while I was there--straight off the live take’s multitrack master, no overdubs--on to 1/4” tape). My friend Anthony who works in the Parliament and also is a bird-oriented naturalist in his spare time came by, and Peter, a journalist at the Canberra Times and KS fan, came by, and a couple of Hannah’s friends came by to hear Hannah’s stuff and the new Disciplines mixes which had been arriving in my laptop every day as new mixes and updated mixes were being done in Tromso by Jon Marius.

I bid my farewell to the recording team--Matt the bassist, Duncan the studio owner who did much of the engineering, and engineers Tim and Cam. Wow, great people. That’s the best thing about music I think--these trial by fire situations are bonding experiences for all involved, and you make friends, and good friends, fast.

Saturday, my departure day--my interview and a huge photo ran in the Canberra Times, on page 5--meaning, in the real news section. That’s pretty cool, when you think about it. Coupled with the fact that Reuters had run a piece on my Asian tour, there was a LOT of press coverage on KS this week, all over the world.

Then, it was time to go--surreal, always, when I have been away for so long. At last on this trip my girls in Paris had a webcam set up at home so we could communicate daily and see each other...this is great. But still, I miss ‘em and the prospect of going home...wow. Add the fact that it’s St. Valentine’s and it’s all the sweeter. My flight from Canberra was in the afternoon, I got there early and they put me on an earlier flight since they were experiencing lots of delays as now the rain was quite intense. But still, I ended up in Sydney with hours of down time, then boarded my Etihad flight to Abu Dhabi. 14 hours of flying time meant I could watch two movies, listen to the D’s album and sequence it, listen to Hannah’s mixes and rough mixes, listen to the Sad Knights master V4 and still get plenty of sleep. I had a two-seat row to myself. We landed at Abu Dhabi in darkness, at 5am, and now I am waiting to board my Paris flight, which is late (lots of fog here this morning, which made for a surreal landing). And into the arms of home, and a little (very little--lots of stuff coming up) rest.

Love
KS
Abu Dhabi Airport Terminal 1.

2.06.2010

The night before my show, Rod and his family and friends took me out in grand style. First, was a Bia Hoi place--Bia Hoi is very light beer that’s made with no preservatives on a daily basis in Hanoi. This place flies it down to Saigon every afternoon. What a great marketing gimmick--you have to drink the whole lot, cuz it goes flat the next day. So it’s your patriotic duty to quaff as much as possible. This gets served with Hanoi specialities such as sliced up pig ear smothered in the sawdust-like poweder made by roasting rice husk and pulverizing it. Also: frog legs. And so on. Fucking awesome food yet again. And we followed that up by heading to a karaoke place, drinking Heinekens and screaming out all kinds of nonsense, but actually Rod’s missus did a really good job on the Vietnamese songs, and Rod’s visiting nephew’s gal Emma was absolutely stunning on Bon Jovi. After a couple of hours of squawking, I

HO CHI MINH CITY, 1/28

On the day of my show, I spent time in the War Remnants Museum. It’s a deliberate choice in naming this, as much of the impact of the display is to show that the cost of the war is still being paid--environmentally, yes, and most importantly--the toxic effects of the campaign against Vietnam afflicted thousands of people who weren’t even born when the conflict was in progress. Birth defects, unexploded ordinance, buried land mines.

Look, the trajectory is simple. The French took over Vietnam and other parts of SE Asia. They used the pretense of some missionaries--who were, of course, imposing an unwanted religion on an uninterested populace--were killed--to take over a entire subcontinent. It would be like America taking over entire regions of Asia after Americans citizens were killed, using the act a pretense to attach sovereign states in a gambit that did nothing to prevent such actions from reoccurring. Good thing we’re above all that. Ahem. Anyway, then the Japanese invaded and really put the thumbscrews on everyone, and when they departed, the locals who had been resisting them for a decade thought, hey, I think we earned our country back, paid for in blood--and declared themselves independent. France, however, thought the price too low, and returned. Uh, sorry guys but...I do believe if anyone actually *did* deserve to recolonize SE Asia if measured in terms of beating back the Co-Prosperity Sphere, France would be somewhere behind Albania. But the age of empire was well and truly over--insults to democracy like the Dutch coming in and machinegunning the Indonesians who had just been subjected to the Japanese empire’s brutality...I mean, hadn’t the world had enough? The fact is...colonial powers all claim that the peoples they subjugate aren’t capable of running things themselves, but I will guarantee that a P/L on most colonies would come up red. The ones that had oil, no. But the rest...you really think colonial admin was a brilliant model of efficiency? Why is it that enslaving the locals is the only way to make it run, then?

So, the French fought to keep it, and lost, and the Americans sought to keep it one way, and lost. The will of the reds was way too strong. And guess what--the world didn’t burst into flames when we lost. The Russians were happy to watch us fuck up, and rather than learn a lesson about experimental wars launched without provocation--we decided to spend the next 40 years (or more? It ain’t done yet) trying to improve the formula. I’m sure there’s Carlyle group think tanks right now eyeing Kyrgyzstan.

I have another theory, far more loopy and radical. You know why Americans make fun of the French and spent two decades raping Vietnam? Because white Anglo lack of sensuality cannot handle cultures that incorporate the sensual into their worldview. Feminine energy, no way. Where America excels is in pitched battle, man-to-man, as it were. Put us up against another industrialized nation of white guys and we will kick them to curb. You kill all the able-bodied men and the subdued nation sues for peace. But if a country is built around harmony between feminine and masculine energy--well, you basically have to destroy everything, right? Otherwise, if you just kill soldiers and take villages--the *spirit* of that nation is still 50% in biz.

It was Vietnam’s sensuality that really made me feel at home. Because they do share that with the French. That and a few other things that may actually *be* French--a love of paperwork, for one. I am not trying to idealize, or patronize, Vietnamese culture. There’s plenty of macho stuff in the culture, and of course some horrific prostitution and slo-mo prostitution--those unlikely 50-year age difference couples a la Philippines. But, I know what I felt, and if nothing else, certainly Vietnam has so many pleasing layers for the senses, and that, itself, qualifies my observation.

Well. After visiting the same mom and pop worker’s cafe I visited the other day, and buying a memory chip so I wouldn’t have to keep uploading photos and removing them from my phone’s tiny memory, it was time to meet up with Rod and head to the venue. The Cage is tucked away in a compound that’s owned by the armed forces (well, actually the government owns all property--people are only leasing, in rolling, 99-year, transferable agreements--their land from the government; and many, many buildings are in the possession of one gov’t agency or another, to be loaned or given as rewards for various kinds of situations...yes, corruption is a problem) but now developed into a warren of flashy restaurants. The Cage is nightclub, but it seems like they had a kitchen, too. It’s quite swanky, which should sort of disqualify either myself or itself from a potential evening together, but, they were happy to have us. Keith Nolan was supporting this evening; Keith is a wicked keyboard player, who plays a Harlem shuffle of RnB, at least he did this evening--he’s also working on techno, soundtracks, all kinds of stuff. He’s Irish but has been living abroad for many years, now living in Bangkok. A really cool person. And of course his alligator stompin blues is just the kind of thing that locals would and do love. So, peeps were groovin. The place was filling up with about 70 or so people, mostly expats, and sliver of locals. After Keith’s set, the house sound engineer put on earsplitting techno, for no reason whatsoever. There was about as much chance of people dancing as there was of them roasting rats on a spit. The typical expat here was a biz dude in his upper deck ages--it takes awhile before you get these kind of postings. Rod managed to chill things down a bit, but for everyone’s sake including my own, I thought it best to get on with it. Of course, being a classy joint there was quite a light system, too...which I did my best to evade by immediately leaving the stage and dragging my mic with me...as this was a big place, people were evenly spread to the tables...so, I needed to get to them, and I did, and it worked out great. Enter a three-hour show, pulling covers out of the hat, and blasting my songs out to the assembled congregation. People wouldn’t let it stop, and there were plenty of magic moments, I was really feeling in that ‘testify’ mode. Mark, a visiting muso from Oz who lent me his stratocaster for the event, busted out great harmonies for my romp thru Neil’s “Tell Me Why”. I don’t remember what I did, exactly, but it was *everything* hahahah. I had to migrate back to the stage to play some piano, spending some time riffing on the fact that I didn’t just have a keyboard for the show, I had a ‘music workstation’ hahaha. In other words, a Korg synth with plastic keys...but it sounded good and I played it with competency. And, my friend Curtis King, jumped up and blew some harp on a few numbers. In other words, in a very ‘classy’ and ‘grown up’ kind of place...we managed to make it a very organic, warm and friendly evening....

After the show we went to a preferred Pho place, now directly across from the construction of what will be a nearly 70-floor tower. As seemed to be the case everywhere I went in Asia, workers were working 24 hours a day on construction. So, we had excellent noodles and watched the goings on as we looked straight up the skirt of this graceful, curvaceous skyscraper. Again...feminine and masculine energy in harmony...these noodles, by the way, contained what looked like egg-shaped egg yolks but what were actually the undeveloped eggs from inside the chicken. Yum, by the way.

The next day Rod ferried me to SGN’s domestic terminal, making sure I had lunch in he car on the way...I mean, seriously, this fella has got to be the greatest host of all time. He saw me off and I went and found my place in line with about fifty million other people, and realized there was no point really to wait in line--as flights were closing down, a guy would come thru the line with a sign asking people who were on the flight in question to step forward. Vietnam Airways has two flights leaving for Hanoi at 2pm. So imagine, when they called those flights--like, the whole line just broke the Tensa-Barriers and went forward. But we all got checked in, and then...security. Same deal, a jillion people in line. There was no way--so I went to the front of the line and cut in in as friendly a manner as possible. And of course, I boarded the flight, and we left 40 minutes late as they did in fact wait for everyone to board. So there. 2 hours later, and I landed in Hanoi, claimed my bags, and went out to meet my driver, feeling cool. Only, that I arrived 45 minutes late, my driver had given up. After speaking with Nick, the promoter, I hopped a cab and headed in, in the dwindling light. On the way in from HAN, it’s rice paddies and buffalo, but new homes built up at random. But as the city of Hanoi started to show itself, it’s quite a different vibe from Saigon, less of the big colonial buildings and more...almost a kind of medieval Swiss vibe--little turrets and towers and balconies....I mean, if Switzerland was in tropical Asia. It’s intricate and detailed, perhaps we can say in contrast to Saigon, which was more broad and elegant in a grand way; this was elegant in a delicate way. We made it to my hotel, the Maison D’Hanoi, which is right in the center of the city, which seems to be marked from a spacious lake surrounded by, on the side that my hotel rests, thousands of shops arranged in speciality streets--a street for people making shoulder bags, a street for shoes, a street for musical instruments. The shops are crammed together, crammed with stuff....and in between of course, are people who offer every service you think of--from cutting keys, to fixing your shoes (hard to get down the street *without* being waylaid by, uh, helpful shoe repair guys, and the loose side on one of my Springcourts was not up to snuff. I was admonished pretty much constantly) to of course, books. Yes, Saigon was served by several top quality bookstores, and I loved this idea--but Hanoi might have one better--the bookstore comes to you--in the form of mobile book sellers carrying a crate of 20 paperback titles or so...you just keep holding out til someone has one you want.

Maison D’Hanoi is a beautiful, very stylish hotel right in the heart of things. Run by one Mr. Victor, whom I ran into at breakfast the morning of my show, who is himself stylish, as well as knowledgeable and just...super cool. My room had rich dark hardwood, black and white bed linens, and grey marble bathroom walls and floor. It was on the inside of the hotel, but unlike my windowless room in Saigon, it had glassbrick windows so light could come in without showing you were looking into a featureless courtyard. I loved it. Like my Saigon room, it was quiet, cool, and great for sleeping.

Nick, my promoter, picked me up and I hopped on back of his motorbike and we met up his crew, the CAMA crew, at a Bia Hoi place--the same unpreserved, light and, uh, fluffy beer that I’d enjoyed in Saigon, where it gets airlifted straight from the brewery every day. There was Nick’s partner Giles, former Seattle-ite Steve; and restaurateur Dan. We were joined by more friends, and we soon decamped to Dan’s place, Highway 4, to dine on various local specialities, and, perhaps most importantly, to consume copious amounts of rice wine, including the notorious brew made with an infusion of geckos. Evidently the critters have a toxin that in small amounts is very much a stimulant...so, this gets ya buzzed in two directions. Quite dangerous!

HANOI, 1/30

Spent the day just walking around exploring my ‘hood, and all the little shops etc therein. Then, we went to the venue. Cinematheque is just that: a cinema, the closest thing to an art house cinema in all of Hanoi, tho they show mainstream things, too...I think ‘Up’ was showing that evening. Let’s say, it’s a temple to quality cinema. It’s tucked away, like so many things I found in HCMC and Hanoi, behind, inside, around...way off the street. Almost nothing to be seen from the street, but you go in an alley, where people park their motorbikes, and that winds around...and around, deeper into the labyrinth, and then you’re in a pleasant terrace. Open to the sky, but they’ve hung a tarp over the place to keep ambient vegetable matter from falling constantly from the trees on the patrons. The warren of structures that form a maze inside this warren include the cinema, beer garden, a travel agency, a hotel, an art gallery, several homes...and a small theatre, complete with a very small balcony. Evidently the whole block is owned by the Ministry of Culture, who tolerate all the activities therein. Except for one thing. The theatre had been built by the same visionary who runs the cinema, as a place for traditional Vietnamese opera...and this cultural activity is the one thing the MoC said no to, for reasons impossible to divine. So, the place is used for music concerts on occasion. And now, mine. Inside, red paint and gold Chinese letters. I soundchecked, adjusted a few things, and then Steve’s missus and her friend took me out for a delicious noodle soup with fat escargots. When I came back...the joint was PACKED. This was going to be good. I couldn’t even get in past the beer garden, so watching my support act, Josh Lee, was impossible. When I squeezed in there, and started to play...incredible. Maybe all told in and out there were 200 people, and even tho I played off the PA, and it was sweltering inside, almost everyone sat still thru the whole show...it was...wow. Surreal. With the heat, I started to get a bit out of body. With the layout--beer garden just outside, balcony, tons of people, I had to work with a bit of ambient chatter, but it was well under control, and I just did my best to deliver to what was quite a decent crowd for me. There was some pretty thunderous applause...coupla encores...and, I was really pleased to see, lots of Vietnamese faces, a more balanced crowd than in HCMC. Everyone seemed to dig it...very much. There was a film crew there making a doc on what was going on in contemporary Hanoi, and tho the camera man had a kind of obnoxious light that was bumming a few folks out, it was good to get a doc of this nite, it’s being edited now...

Basically, it was a massive, triumphantly wonderful night and show, and perhaps the best ending imaginable to the tour. It didn’t end there, either--the CAMA folks and a few others met up at a little bar that did a lock in, and eventually I was handed an acoustic guitar for a few songs, but I was toast by 3 and had to get up for my flight!

I managed to get out in the neighborhood for early cafe and croissant before my taxi took me to the airport. It was then that it sort of hit me...I was leaving Asia and my tour was over...man! And Vietnam, too. I wasn’t really ready to go, there was so much more to know and to see. So, more...to come.

A stop in Singapore. Some great movies and decent inflight grub...sigh, why can’t the other airlines learn that service is part of their value. Singapore Airlines and Qantas were my companies for this trip and they are both excellent. The only problem with this trip is that Singapore to Sydney is not a very long flight, for an overnight trip, and with all those good movies to watch...I had only slept maybe 4 hours or so when I landed in Sydney. The flight to Canberra was too short to really sleep on, and then I was there...Hannah Gillespie, with whom I’d be working for the next 2 weeks, was there to pick me up, and take me to her charming little home in Queanbeyan, NSW just outside of Canberra, which she was giving up for me to have my own place for the length of the project, she’ll stay at a friend’s nearby.

Hannah is a funny, generous soul who by day is employed in a government agency doing communication work. She made a record a year or so ago, but due to family issues and work, didn’t get to do much with it, and decided to make another, having learned about what she did and didn’t want from the first one. She is a really great songwriter, and due to modesty and general principles doesn’t take herself as seriously as I do when we’re working...she’s quicker to point out her flaws then take pride in her accomplishments. I am all for modesty, but not when it keeps you from moving forward...and I think this record will be a massive step forward, musically, for her, and bring out what she does best. She’s got a great voice, and great lyrics, and those things will come forward on this recording no doubt.

On this first day, we went out into the country, her dad lives about 50 k’s down the road, so we had lunch with him and Hannah’s stepmom. Her dad, Pete, is a cool cat who plays a mean mandolin and had a little band like the Band back in the 60s. His health hasn’t been the best lately, so he hasn’t been able to be on this record, which is unfortunate to say the least but he is certainly represented in the spirit of the music. Hannah’s music has rootsy elements, to be sure. She sort of gave me the impression she thought country was a four letter word, but, I hated to break it to her...she has a lot of country soul in her. She’s been cool with it, and I think we have done plenty to avoid cliches and corn.

After a swim in a river, that during these months of summer drought is more of a series of ponds, and a get-to-know-the-team dinner, under trees full of squawking white cockatoos (you know, the Baretta bird), we got to work. We’ve worked now 4 days, which is why this blog is so late in posting, between the travel, the very tired first day, and the work there’s been no time to write.

We work in Queanbeyan, just ten minutes or so by car from Hannah’s place. The studio, Infidel, is more than comfortable and I have an awesome engineering team. We are recording on 16 track tape, and moving to digital when needed (like when we need to edit between takes--we are renting the tape, hahah, if we cut it, we have to buy it!). Some songs are just Hannah and guitar; some have more--her musical right hand is one Matt Nightingale, who moves adeptly from double bass to guitar to...whatever you need! Wonderful, enthusiastic presence and a superb multitalented muso. We also had Kevin Nicol on drums on some songs, who played in a very big 80s AOR rock band called Noiseworks, don’t worry, we teased him a-plenty. He was great too--we had to establish the vibe of the rec in the first day, when we had him there, in an epic, 3pm to 3am session (Duncan, the studio owner, and one of 3 in house engineers that have obviated the need for me to do much of the dirty work, advised these hours as the studio is in an industrial area and his neighbors in the building run the heavy machinery more in the early part of the day) I really exploded many preconceived notions about what this record could be...all while keeping it grounded in some kind of credible framework. I played keys live on a few of the tracks...we had a banjo player drop in and play...everything we’ve done so far is to play live with 2-4 people playing at once. All the songs are on tape now, in some form, and now comes layering whatever we need to make it complete. We have the horn section coming tomorrow...morning...so...on that note, good night, and expect a very short blog next Sunday! But the players have been flexible and open minded, and above all, talented and able to go with whatever twists and turns my randomizing brain has been able to come up with...

Love
KS
Queanbeyan AUSTRALIA

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!!!