static and distance

Moments after reuniting in Istanbul

A digital converstaion between thompsoninflıght and Jerry Jackson. Held while sitting next to each other within The Bıg Apple Hostel on a cold soppy Istanbul Sunday. Subject: Our rollickıng rendevouz in Turkey…

Our tribute to the felines of Istanbul

Not as big as it was going to be, turns out. Poor planning and blowing a big dirty hole in the starboard of my budget while in the US means I’ve gotta head home a little earlier. Major but hell, it ain’t the end of the world. Let those fellas in Scotland take care of that. I’ll be back for Germany, but not going to get there this time round. I still have a couple of weeks in Turkey ahead of me with a child who is now going by the title of Sarspy, would’ve been really cut if I missed out on that. In London now and laying low in a Australian half way house in Manor House recovering from a major spiced rum session in the van out front and a pint or three in Camden last night. Have bobbed around town and it’s been predictably wet and gray(got me all missing Melbourne) and I dig the feel of the joint but sure woulda liked to see more. Again, next time. Tomorrow I go to Leeds which I’m really looking forward to, seeing an old, old mate and getting a tour of the town and possibly York. Also seeing Jason Molina which I’ve been looking forward to for some time.

Back in Boston I experienced perhaps the best concert I’ve ever seen. My Morning Jacket, ladies and gentlemen. Favourite band on the planet? Let’s start dealing in definites and give it  a resounding YES. Beneath a big old corporately sponsored tent on a night that was lashed by the tail of a nearby hurricane, these boys from Tennesse utterly blew me away with the mother of all rock n roll shows. Force 5+ variety. The opening pairing of Mahgeeta and Anytime was as spectacular opening salvo, and from there it was consistently astounding. Golden was perfectly beautiful, Gideon revelatory, Touch Me I’m Going to Scream Pt 2 an exhilarating psychedelic epic…pretty much every song was a glorious aural and visual assault, save for a dud or two from the new album. Jim James’ voice is an instrument like no other. He is armed with magical, totally unique pipes, even more affecting live. He’s also a lot more energetic than I anticipated, bounding around the stage with his flying V guitar and dancing about in his big black cape. Dondante from Z was perhaps the best piece, drawn out to a 15 minute plus devastating odyssey. It closed up with One Big Holiday and I thought, how apt. Absolute hysteria resonated under the big white ceiling and we gleefully went out into the torrential rain, like the weather was trying to reassert itself, to prove itself over the howling tour de force My Morning Jacket had just produced. It gave it good shake, but I ain’t never seen no storm like what went down under that tent that night.

Besides this memorable event, I found Boston rather boring. The next night I caught Ryan Adams which was also good but after MMJ it was like a rather bland dessert. Not unlike Boston itself. Pretty and alluring, sure, but left me unsatisfied. I was happy to leave it and all those grating American accents behind and head across the Atlantic. The USA was an amazing experience, New York and the concerts the obvious high points. The food was the lowest. 90% of what I ate was disgusting, 5% inedible and the rest just OK. And of course the beer is shite.  Hopefully I’ll get to check out some of the centre and the south next time round. There will be a next time.

New York City. It’s a helluva town.

Central Park

DO: Hurry Up, breathe through your mouth, get a decent street guide, tip

DON’T: Slow down, breathe through your nose, expect to be able to save money

RECOMMENDED: Manhattan City Inn, Chelsea for cramped but well located accomodation; The Zipper Club for a wild beer range(including Coopers Pale Ale!!) and top notch bartending; The Ear Inn for an ancient NYC pub and surly Irish/New Yorker bartender; Hells Kitchen Flea Market for nicknacks and vintage clothing; The Living Room and Rockwood Music Hall for great free music 7 nights a week; the Cake Shop on Ludlow St for cake and records upstairs and booze and bands in the cavernous downstairs; Exploring Central Parkand it’s wonderful zoo; Skylight Diner for good food, bad coffee and an authentic New York experience; Jim Hanley’s Universe for comics; Union Square for farmers markets and watching the age old battle between pigeon and squirrel; watching the US Open while drinking cheap smuggled in vodka @ Madison Square Park; The annual Brazil Festival on 6th Ave; Lit on 2nd Ave for late night sloppiness and decent music; pretty much all of the East Village for pretty much everything; Bleecker St Records and Gemneration Records for music; SoHo for shopping utopia; watching tough street basketball at the corner of W 4th and 6th Avenue; just getting your New York on in general.

AVOID: Public phone booths(urinals), Greenwich Village Diner, Jimmy’s BBQ on W 31st, Sway Club, going to Times Square more than once.

I figure this is that’s the best way to surmise my New York experience. It was a stinky and spectacular, exhausitng and exhilirating, opulent and offensive, hot and hotter, noisy, noisy, noisy, crowded, ctowded, crowded, and not for a millisecond boring. Not even on the subway. My favourite moments were had around the happening East Village, particularly on Ludlow Street were there’s a string of great little bars. My favourites were the multifunctuional Cake Shop and the Living Room where I saw some cool bands and the people were nice and casual, not infected with the dibillitating wave of pretensious hipsterdom that plagues much of the cities youth. I was fortunate enough to get put onto these places by an Australian bartender at the excelllent Zipper Club on W 37th St. Met him on the first night and ducked in now and again for a Coopers and a kindly word of advice. Very handy to have a knowlegeable local and absolutely vital to have a comprehensive city guide book. Met some real nice people from all over the globe at the hostel and sucked down many a bad can of Bud up on the excellent rooftop there.

Anyways I wasn’t going to elaborate too much, was I? Not enough hours in the day let alone time on this crappy hostel computer. So from the city that never sleeps to the city that closes up at 2am. I am now in Boston and it’s going OK. Boston Common is a beautiful park and the Charles River is nice to chill by, it’s still very hot. Wondered around yesterday and was struck by the lack of homelessness and racial diversity in comparison to LA, SF and NYC. In the city there were more Starbucks and Dunkin’ Donuts than black or hispanic folk.  It’s an interesting time to be in America with the election bearing down on the nation. I haven’t met a republican yet but not everyone is convinced by Mr Obama either. It’s a good converstaion starter at a bar, everyone has got an opinion which is encouraging. No sign of apathy. Had a good yarn on the subject with a chap at a great “dive bar” (Americanism) called Bukowskis last night then kicked on around a few inferior sporty type bars. All so…American. I’m right in college territory-everthing is white picket fence and everyone is very preppy. My outsider feeling was quite strong on the first day when I walked out of my hostel and straight into a torrent of Red Sox fans streaming out of nearby Fenway Park. Whoops.  Boston seems to be one of those big cities you live in if you don’t want to feel like you’re living in a big city. A total contrast to NYC.  Looking forward to My Morning Jacket and Ryan Adams this weekend and have been invited to college BBQ on Sunday. Will it be a “kegger”? We will see. A little worrying is the forecast for rain and heavy wind tomorrow night as I understand the venue for the gig is semi-outdoors. Hopefully she’ll be right *crosses fingers, toes*  

It’s off to London on Monday and seeing an old friend named Partial then to Leeds and another old mate named Bondy, will be good to see these blokes in new surrounds. So onwards I plow, trusting all is well with friends and family back home and with a little pang of sadness chest as I recount my time in New York…missing her already.

Up on the hostel roof, Chelsea