static and distance

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.