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When we went to America.

I am afraid of flying. None-the-less a couple of weeks ago I caught myself on a boeing 747 heading to New York, sat between an analyst and a drunk (most probably) retired actor, at ease in the knowledge that I had at least packed practically, my suitcase’s contents being 60% ukelele.

Harry, (mr percussion/ vocals) and I landed in New York at rush hour, needless to say it took us almost 3 hours to cross the city, traffic was grid locked and the president was in town. We only had a day to spend in New York, before heading off to New Orleans for a show so I was keen to see as much of the famous city as possible, it being my first time in America. I was not disappointed, everything I’d ever heard or read about New York and New Yorkers was most definitely true, noisy traffic horns and whistles, cold atmosphere troubled by hot blasts of steam from various curious global eateries and the subway, rude and busy people, towers upon towers of windows on top of windows…I walked from Central Park down to Ground Zero, downtown appealing much more to my sensibilities, through chelsea where I had a peek round the infamous Chelsea Hotel. I had read so much about this famous place in Patti Smith’s “Just Kids” and David Amram’s “Offbeat” on collaborating with Jack Kerouac. If you haven’t heard Lenard Cohen’s “I remember you well in the chelsea hotel”- then I’d recommend it. New York, New york, how many songs are there about New York..

From the Big Apple to the Big Easy.

Next stop was New Olreans, a couple more hours in a flying static caravan (p.s don’t fly with Delta if you’re in the states and taking musical equipment, it will not be looked after) into tropical temperatures that I was not prepared for, having only brought one pair of shoes, boots, little brown lace up boots, typical Brit. New Orleans proved to be one of the most bizarre places I had ever seen, if I leant on a wall I wasn’t sure if it would give way revealing a film crew. I found a sanctuary on a small street at the edge of the City called frenchmen street, where most of what I could decipher as the true Jazz clubs were, the standard of musicianship was incredible, I’d suggest if you are a musician who has become accustomed to the Great British open mic night (like I have) you should head over to New Orleans, it will change your perception radically.
We played at the 12 Bar Club, the room was mildly smoky, which was a blast from the past as I hadn’t played in a smoking venue since I was 16. It was a good show, despite my anxieties about playing to an American audience, I had managed to convince myself that playing my songs in a different country could take them out of context. Luckily, it all worked out and we all seemed to understand each other.

From the Big Easy to Lalaland.. (Los Angeles)

Our next and final stop for our short tour in the states was Los Angeles, what a two sided coin that place is. Took me and my boots down to Venice Beach and watch the various character’s to and fro, up and down the strip. We played at a lovely venue called the hotel cafe hollywood, we went on after a poetry night that was pretty good, despite conforming to many poetry night stereotypes, I really did see someone wearing a beret. We then had the luxury of spending a couple of days enjoying LA in all its glory, I decided to try and take the place on, on foot, this proved to be a foolhardy decision, it is impossible to walk in LA. I’d recommend a bar called la descarga, it’s quirky but not ideal if you’re not a big fan of cigar smokers. I will leave you with this picture of a young lady named Liz who I met on Venice beach, she has since become my life guru and inspiration, all I need now is a brave heart and a pair of well fitting roller skates.