USA
FALL TOUR 2004
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Friday
17th September
Friday night and another U.S. tour starts in Denver
Colorado - the mile high city. Here in
the last vestige of summer the weather is so fine
that Alan's clothes decide to take a wee sojourn to
New Orleans. Many a time we have played the Swallow
Hill Cultural Centre and as always we play
to a full house. At the concert we meet a young Scottish
woman who is travelling through the United States
and upon enquiry we discover that she is enjoying
her travels however I cannot fail to notice the orthopedic
support device swaddling her wrist. It transpires
she has suffered one of those fates common only out
here in the wild west - the dreaded Yoga injury. Actually
Yoga mishaps rank somewhere behind that most horrific
(and typical) of Californian disasters: The Colonic
Irrigation Calamity. I remember hearing of an entire
family in Encino being wrenched apart by a poorly
advised concoction of colonic irrigation, assertiveness
training, transcendental masturbation, and line dancing.
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During
our stay at Swallow Hill we are expertly looked
after by Cole who supplies us with tea, brownies
and all points between. Rob, Alasdair, and myself
fortify ourselves with a couple of gallons of
Negra Modelo - dark Mexican beer - at "El Tejador"
restaurant across the road from the show and
after we are escorted back to our digs via one
of Denver's proudest establishments - Rusty
Willy's. Rusty Willy's, we are informed, is
one the nations most famous strip clubs or "titty
bars" as they are denoted in the American English
lexicon. Our sound engineer - Rob - understandably
reacts with some trepidation for the phrase
"Rust Willys" only floods his consciousness
with bad memories from his days in the Dutch
navy. His fears are however alayed as within
this fine establishment there are neither umbrellas
nor excessive oxidation.
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Rob
gets the willies
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Sat
18th September
It is five o'clock in the morning and we are flying
off to California but not before the TSA give us a
quick massage and take our temperature. (I do not
know what TSA stand for but they are the thin end
of the wedge that protects our freedom from all of
the "evil-doers" out there such as Osama bin-Laden,
Saddam Hussain, Cat Stevens and any manner of Dixie
Chick. We have always presumed that they are the Traditional
Song Association.)
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slap,
slip, every trip...
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The
coming week involves much flying which means
the introduction of this ever-increasingly fascinating
routine of airport etiquette: Standing in the
Disneylandic, cordoned maze; the all-conquering
aroma of the Cinnamon Bun Corporation wafting
over the herd like insecticide While you wait
in anticipation for the inevitable groping at
the hands of the polite yet uniformed TSA official
repleat with latex gloves. All of these sensations
working together - the anticipation; the sugar
and cinnamon; the "Blip" of the X-ray machine;
the eventual man-handling…It is like some kind
of highly specialised kinky sex. The kind in
which we always hear our politicians engage.
Get there early folks
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Eventually
we fly to Sacramento
and after a couple of hours drive we are at the
Chico World Music festival
where we are just in time for a workshop before
our evening gig at the beautiful Laxson Auditorium.
- A large venue at the California State University
at Chico. The gig goes well - coffee no tea - and
after some more Mexican cuisine we retire to the
hotel where a disco for the benefit of the National
Associoation of Carpet Sellers (or some such organisation)
is going full swing: Rusty Willies all around I
fear.
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Sunday
19th September
Another day, another airport: Sugar, Cinnamon, latex,
and Santa Monica California.
In my youth I saw many great concerts at the world
famous McCabe's guitar shop:
Dave Alvin; John Lee Hooker; The
Meat Puppets; and Pat Metheny with Billy
Higgins and Charlie Haden. So for me it
is always a great honour to play here, plus we get
to see my family, our agent Mitch Greenhill, and our
publicist Sandy Goldfarb. The boss at McCabes for
some years now commands one of those great monikers
that exist only in America: Zachariah Love. One could
not have such a name and not be involved with show
business. When I was younger, the then" Los Angeles"
Raiders had a great player called Napoleon MacCallum.
I was always intrigued by this name and can only presume
that his parents must have been big fans of "The Man
From U.N.C.L.E." Anyway, after the show we are off
to Lares on Pico blvd. For mas cerveza and some Lengua
en Mole - Beef tongue with spicy chocolate sauce.
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Alan,
during his days with the Cubs |
Monday
20th September
Today we fly to one of America's great music centres:
Austin Texas.
And appropriately we embark the plane with not only
two of The Platters, but all of The Asylum Street
Spankers - themselves based in Austin. As well as
all this Alan sits next to Thad Bosley who played
baseball with the Chicago Cubs and the Kansas City
Royals between 1977 and 1990.
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Thad
Bosley. Yesterday |
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Tuesday
21 September
Pat and I are in buoyant mood as we set off on the
three-hour drive, from Austin, through Czech Texas,
to Houston.
On this high after two days of celebrity shoulder-rubbing
we await our next encounter with baited breath and
are rewarded not two hours into the journey when we
see none other than the king himself hitching a lift
somewhere near Lagrange. Of course we pick him up
- he is the King after all. After a short time however,
I have some doubts as to the authenticity of this
Elvis and perhaps my reservations were justified for
who should appear after eighteen miles but another
fatter; shinier Elvis: The Elvis of my youth. There
really is more than one King from Texas. The
Mucky Duck goes well - great crowd, buckets
of Shiner bock and cups of tea - a braw night all
around.
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