Welcome to my blog. I document my adventures in travel, style, and food. Hope you have a nice stay!

and the beat goes on...

(Kristin here, once again reporting from home base in Seattle, WA. This post comes on the heels of the following conversation with VVB -- as much of a conversation as one can have with a girl squealing at a frequency dogs flee from in terror -- "Omigod did you hear Goldspot and I was going to call you and hold the phone out so you could hear but then I realized you were already listening and I'm picking Tom Brosseau up at the airport me for real seriously Tom Brosseau yeah. Me. Airport. Tom Brosseau. In my car. Hi. Okay I love you bye.")

tuesday, tuesday, such a great day, it's a shame no one writes songs about tuesdays. unless I'm wrong. like with the break a leg thing - but anyways...

this morning was just as hot but I took the next subway stop to shorten the walk, I swear it feels like I need another shower by the time I get to the museum - the city is muggy and thick and damp, the drinks sweat immediately, and my hair stayed wet until noon. air conditioning is like a cold blanket from the gods, a swooshing enveloping movement that sweeps over you with the opening of doors. on that note, you can tell the city people from the tourists by the way they handle revolving doors, among other things - they just jump right in, it's a non-issue for them. we have to time it, we hesitate, we stumble - but by the end of the day we had vastly improved. entering and exiting like a pro, knowing where the subway stations were without trying. everything continues to be a blast.

wide right was the first band up this morning, really doing their thing over barbequed chicken and sleeping on the couch from fights with your spouse about conversations you couldn't have while drinking cheap beer. the guy fell to the floor during soundcheck, purposefully, playing a track or two off of their album lying on his back. overwhelmed and happy. they were quick and clean and right on the money, and all of a sudden they were gone. everyone was even more laid back today, acclimated to the time change and even the heat, no one needed to be anything they weren't and we all got excited when goldspot rolled in with a duffel bag full of free t-shirts (american apparel!) and cds for sale, which we gladly took off of their hands. I went for the green, andrew and shannon went for the black. soft and perfect - and I didn't even totally know what I was in for, having heard "rewind" and one other track off of the album at most.

six or seven guys eventually ambled in, along with a set of parents, inducing a gigantic coffee / green tea run. andrew and I carried more beverages than any two people should ever have to, and as we came back down the hallway we heard the lead singer warming up. sid(dartha, which I am coincidentally reading as a result of a box of free books in the lobby of my wednesday night meeting)'s voice floated down the hallway - thus beginning the first channeling of the day. it was jeff buckley reincarnate, with a shirt that had LOVE ME scrawled across it and a suit jacket with a zipper and a black sweatshirt hood. hair standing up, long sleeves pulled over fingers, howling and bellowing pure beauty. I almost dropped the coffees. we made quick business of handing them out, and I really started to peak out about hearing them play - and five songs at that instead of four. they were absolutely the highlight of the day, melodic and haunting and well-versed and just the way sid bounced around on stage, with that anguished tortured singer thing where they kind of freak out and their hands fly away almost without notice and there's pulling of hair and faraway stares and screaming perfection. and the band dug it and encouraged it and got into him and each other and just pulled off the most perfect set, complete with a full audience and a manager in tow. it was truly incredible.

I wound up talking to them and the manager during load out, which I was more than happy - priveleged even - to help out with. I talked up cafe nine if they were ever passing through the east coast again, which apparently is in the plan. I'm actually going to try to see them thursday night before the wrens, I'm going to go in and get stamped and try to leave for goldspot's set a few blocks away and then back by the time jim yoshi pile-up starts with plenty of time still for front row. the book and stuff is just too big of a coincidence, as well as sid's dad talking to me for a while about living in new haven in the seventies. I've learned to pay attention to such things. that, and I told sid that I was in love with him a little bit after seeing the set. I couldn't help it.

feist followed suit, with a beautiful set full of odd instruments and lacy vocal threads woven between soft trumpets and shaky shakys. they seemed a bit tense, as anyone would be, wanting sound to be perfect and to perform well, but in resulted in a bit of pre-show tension. the second channeling began, a female jon rodgers, or at least his equivalent in some other dimension, with a hint of bjork and awry for good measure. I love xylophones. her big bodied red guild was almost bigger than she was, or so it seemend, and they were in and playing and there and leaving, and then it was a whirlwind of restocking the schwag and lunch and wow, it's late already and then the phone rang.

I had been catching up on a few calls from friends, touching base with work and checking on the chachalove, when the number for the space came up. remember when I wrote about tom brosseau playing the open mic at the space? as it turns out, he needs a ride from the airport, and guess who steve immediately thought of to pick them up, and had to call him back twice just to make sure he wasn't playing a trick on me. I was in the middle of squealing with delight when langhorne slim came strolling down the comic book strip hallway. he laughed, I said hello, and later explained the bliss of the phone call. he was sad to admit that he hadn't heard much of tom, but promised to as soon as cheryl threw on a track for me. and speaking of that, as I was telling cheryl, not only did she throw on a track, but told me about how he is a beautiful charming six foot tall dear of a guy that makes you feel like the most perfect girl in the world and how I may very well fall completely in love with him. I think I'll bring gerber daisies to the airport with the sign. when I pick him up. tom brosseau. who will be at tweed. and then in my car.

I can't believe that this is my life.

so langhorne (sp?) proceeded to be the sweetest guy, sneaking off to warm up and coming back in about four minutes before his set, and immediately blowing us out of our seats. picture zoot suit pants, shiny green shoes, some kind of old graphic wifebeater, a humphrey bogart hat, and a tooth missing on the side in the most perfect place. (or, you can check out bill's shots on kexp when he fixes them tomorrow - I think something happened around six east coast time that had to do with stuff not loading the right way or whatever). now, he smiles and chats and thanks you for coming and he's one of those people you want to support in every way you can so that he can just create and be and make more and do more of - everything. then he gets behind the microphone with his acoustic guitar with the worn pink flowery strap and all of a sudden there's an old black man howling away about modern day blues from his front porch in the south someplace, but you can tell he's lived in new york too, from the way it's hardened his point of view. and it's happening at the top of his lungs. we could barely speak, totally bowled over from the front row.

so, yeah. after we giggled through his station ids, that was my tuesday.

the night wrapped up with postcard posters for all, veggies in the village, subway chats with kevin and peanut m and ms. I have to go now, because I think michael is about to throw in the new death cab dvd.

did I mention what a time I'm having? wish you were here, and I mean it. even though the weather isn't wonderful. because everything else absolutely is. I won't even take the space to complain about dropping my phone in the sink and having to buy a new one. okay, I will, but only because the cheapest one they had wound up being the same one that luke temple has. we giggled about it at various points throughout the night - that, and the fact that the verizon guy I called on 611 to find a store was in washington state and was all, "kexp? really? with the morning guy?" which far outweighed the money it wound up costing.

tomorrow morning I'm going to meet devin davis. at like, nine in the morning. with john. in the morning. in the morning.



sleep is so beautiful...

postcards from the edge (of everything)