I went to London to see THE FUTURE with my dearest friend this weekend.
Me with Gary War. In spite of what his look might suggest, I did not ask him too many nostalgic questions about Massachusetts, I promise. He was gracious and polite and I could have talked to him much longer if the staff wasn’t prematurely kicking everyone out of the dance hall for ‘80’s Night.’ I thought his set was criminally cut short to accommodate the second function of the evening. It was all the more exasperating because he was so thrilling to watch, howling reverb-soaked riffs into his mic whilst pummelling his Rickenbacker and barely glancing up at the audience at all. There was something trance-like about it: his chaotic hypnosis sharply juxtaposed with the lush, mesmerizing swoon of Purple Pilgrims that preceded him.
Me with Colleen Green. She came back and stayed at my place with her merch guy and driver after her show. Coincidentally, she was using R Stevie's tour driver, so we talked a lot about Stevie, Ariel and John.
I love having honest to goodness true blue music fans stay over at my house. A small pile of cassettes on my coffee table is met with rapturous delight and respect. We had breakfast at my corner café and I sent her back on the road with a whole stack of mix CDs my sister and I have made for each other over the years.
It's been a weird and wonderful couple of days for me.