MY WAR

My war with the plumbing of Europe continues unabated. My second bathroom oriented tragedy of the tour (I’m not comfortable discussing the first) occurred this afternoon. Our promoter Phillip’s girlfriend Benedicte’s house, where we are staying, is under construction, so we went to their friend’s house to shower. I was pretty rank, so I took a long one, carefully inspecting the shampoo and body wash labels to make sure that I was not scrubbing my genitals with drain cleaner (you can never be too careful when playing around with a language barrier). When I stepped out of the shower I noticed that the floor had about an inch of water and that our shower-hosts were already trying to deal with the enormous river pouring out from beneath the bathroom door, threatening to drown them and their new baby. I’ve only known these people for 15 minutes and I’ve already begun destroying their home. What a first impression! Of course, this was not my first experience flooding a European bathroom. On my first tour of The Continent, I ended up creating a deluge at 3AM in our friend Klaus’s apartment in Frankfurt. Klaus graciously had woken up and spent an hour cleaning it up despite the fact that he had to be at work at 8 am. I am wise to the secret now. The way not to flood a European bathroom with a hand held shower nozzle is to actually hold it in your hand. There seems to be a design flaw with the holsters so they never point in the right direction…either that or I’m just a fucking idiot (the latter, most likely).
We played in Benedicte and Phillip’s living room for their housewarming party. The house was filled with incredibly beautiful and well dressed people. The Belgians really have it down, both in terms of genetics and fashion sense. I’m particularly impressed with the bone structure and the boots...damn good boots. I ran into Wim and Analise whom I had stayed with Amsterdam on the dreadful Eyesores European tour of 2005. I remember that I had dumped a pile of pennies and chocolate dust from my suitcase outside the door to their house. My bandmates were not impressed with my lack of decorum. It hadn’t seemed like a huge mess until we saw it in the light of day. There was a good deal of grumbling. I had been in the doghouse in general on that tour anyhow (for other more complicated reasons which I will not get into right now). Wim and Analise seem to have forgotten the incident or at least they didn‘t bring it up in conversation. We had a pleasant chat. They are very nice.
The show was great. I played very well, despite the fact that I was using Micah’s guitar case for a kick drum and the kick pedal kept sliding all over the place. I had a coughing fit in the middle of “Amplifier Hum”, but I think it just enhanced the mood. The audience was rapt and very appreciative. I got a lot of great feedback from people after the show. A friend of Phillip’s described my performance as being “almost religious”. Maybe I should work that angle…Father K. Redfearn from the Providence Church of St. Nihil, delivering the word of NO GOD to Europe. YOU‘RE ALREADY IN HELL, BROTHERS AND SISTERS, SO LET THE VIOLENCE AND WILD-DONKEY-FUCKING BEGIN! ...I’ll never pull it off. I lack both the conviction and the theatre training. I’d be preaching to the choir anyhow.
It’s been great hanging with Micah. It’s good to tour with New England kin. He’s a man of few words, and he chooses them wisely. He’s a funny bastard with an incredibly dry sense of humor and a keen eye for the absurd. He also has a very compelling act. His voice has a presence that commands a room with the simmering energy of a revival preacher (he lacks the theater training as well, but he doesn’t need it) and he plays the 12 string like a motherfucker. His right hand is a blur. His music is certainly anachronistic, but he doesn’t wear it like a mask. It all seems very natural and very sincere. His songs are gorgeous and are filled with melancholy and barren images. And the guy has an enormous repertoire. He’s played a completely different set every night. It’s a difficult act to follow, which is why I’ve insisted on playing first every night.
After we played, everyone got drunk on wine (but remained cordial and friendly) and I went for a walk to find a call shop. It was All Souls Day, so almost everything was closed. I ended up walking until I was in the Turkish neighborhood. The only places that were open were the pita shops and weird little gambling houses where brawny Turks shot craps and yelled at each other. There were also a few typical European sports pub-type places where sad, bloated and spent middle aged men and women nursed strong beers while their shrieking children ran around among the billiard tables and thick smoke. After walking about a mile I found that all the call shops were closed. I gave up and went back to the party.
Things had pretty much wound down, so Phillip and Benedicte took us on a tour of the sights. We saw a several refurbished medieval churches and castles and the bar that had once been the gallows pole. Benedicte pointed out the section of the river where Diamanda Galas had performed a few months earlier on a makeshift platform to confused and horrified tourists who probably thought they were there to see Celine Dion. We went to a crowded jazz club that was tucked away in a long cobble-stoned alleyway. The band were pretty young and had obviously listened to a lot of that terribly antiseptic Chigago post-rock shit that everyone was so gaga about in the late 90‘s, but they transcended their misguided influences by playing really well and creating a dark atmosphere that fit the room nicely. After their set ended, we found another bar where I was too distracted by my wildly spinning brain and the presence of too many attractive females to participate in the conversation. Fortunately, Micah held down the fort.
We parted company with Phillip and Benedicte the next morning after breakfast. They were incredibly good hosts and fine people. Now it’s an endless series of trains to Nijmegen and I’m lugging 3000 dollars worth of equipment on a 10 dollar cart through the rain. My system is flawed and in bad need of repair.