thejoncohenexperimental

Queen…

Every city has its own voice. Every city has something to offer. A unique quality about it that goes beyond what it produces, or how big or populated it is. The Passenger role in this tour has taught me that the best way to enjoy any place you go, is to adapt to its rule, to listen to what it has to tell you instead of trying to dictate your experience.  I have been experiencing this since the tour has started and I have recognized it subconsciously, but not until I got to Amsterdam, was I able to really forge this understanding.

I don’t want to sound like the boy who cried wolf, declaring my love and admiration for all the places I happen to tread.  So please forgive me this one more time, but this time, it’s coming from a place deeper than just my heart and mind.  Amsterdam is the most beautiful city (if you want to call it that) I ever experienced. From the moment I arrived, I felt it; I knew there would be some sort of impact.

Shaped like a well-spun spider web would be, in a beautiful centrifugal pattern only the teamsmanship of man and nature could have intended. It weaves a web consisting of beautiful swan and duck filled water canals, complete with house boats, mosaic stone roads, bike paths, and flanked by some of the most gorgeous buildings and architecture in the world. The homes, windows, stores and parks are enchanting and soothing with large windows for all to peep at the lavish beauty inside.

I was tired but already mesmerized at 6am when my old Montreal buddy and musical partner in crime Chris Wise picked me up at the station early Sunday morning. We walked around the streets, marveling at the beauty of each scenario that presented itself before us. Chris and I were catching up of course, but not in the way you’d’ think, he just got into describing the beauty, wonder and ease of the Amsterdam as a city as well as its people.

We walked for almost an hour and a half in the wee morning hours.  I had all my gear with me, so it was a tad difficult but worth it. In the early morning light garbage was littered from the night’s partying, but the city is quick to clean. People here also party until the early morning. In fact some guy named Mustapha even tried to sell me cocaine, hash and weed in the first minute I arrived at 6am.

Chris is great at telling me about Amsterdam. He pointed out the buildings that are crooked, saying that is because it was the best and only way to haul in pianos in through the windows of the different floors. The crooked buildings jutting outwards would prevent furniture, pianos etc., from smashing against the walls. All buildings have a pulley crane on top. We got to his apartment in the west end and just hung out for a while. It’s a large complex with many rooms, but Chris has an advantage is that he has a lovely view of the city and a balcony.

The best way to discover Amsterdam, bar none, is by bicycle. This is a city that is designed in such an ingenious way, so as to ease the flow of traffic with cars, millions of bicycles everywhere, tram service that is always on point, and a metro service as well. Buses run almost all night too.  It’s an easy city to get lost in but as soon as you begin to understand the layout, in relation to the river (which feeds from the north sea) and in relation to the dam square i.e. the palace, it all begins to make sense. However I could have never figured this out if Chris and I didn’t spend the entire day weaving in and out of beautiful streets, cycling through parks, city squares, canal bridges (so cute) drop bridges, and little alleyways, all the time stopping off for a bite, a few pints, or a smoke.

My first Sunday there and I was amazed observing all the people out and about, walking around well behaved dogs, gorgeous girls (strange to hear them speak this guttural Dutch language though), beautiful swans and ducks, lots of birds, pretty shops, cobblestone roads, markets, flower shops, overcast but gorgeous nonetheless.

The bike path system in Amsterdam is second to none. There is much bike traffic but also there are scooters who use the bike path. They are disruptive and annoying because the people who drive them drive fast and sometimes recklessly. I had to get used to the sound of a scooter engine speeding right up behind me or honking as it got close. They are supposed to use the streets like all other motorized vehicles but they don’t because it’s faster and or easier for them to use the side roads. I hope the city begins to enforce a law to prevent them and the tiny red cars that fit on a bike path from using them.

Chris is in love with this city as well; his second go at it making now 2 years in Amsterdam. He is here on a scholarship doing his masters in urban planning and urban geography, a subject he is fascinated and passionate about. He makes a perfect tour guide because he knows what I like to see, and has similar tastes. He also like to appreciate the finer things in life and after a few months on the road I was happy to tag along for some fine-ness myself. He would often point things out to me, about certain sights, and people. We had an amazing time on our first day, just reconnecting in this new environment. After about 6 hours of exploring by bike, we headed back to his place for a little r&r, exchanged our iTunes music (as we were both getting sick of our collections) and headed out again for round two…nighttime on our bikes!

What an interesting night it was. Our round 2 started with dinner in this little Thai restaurant at 9pm by a canal near the beautifully crafted weigh station (one of the central landmarks of Amsterdam). That was where people used to come weigh their goods before individual weighing tools came along.  Dinner was so delicious; it was real Thai food, just like I remember eating in Bangkok, another city that has my heart. After dinner, we headed out for my first visit to what they call “coffee shops” in Amsterdam. For those who don’t know, a coffee shop in Amsterdam, is like a bar that serves all sorts of drinks and also serves marijuana, hash joints, and god knows what else. Another irony here is that it is legal to sell and smoke weed, but illegal to grow or harvest it, so go figure, how that one works. Perhaps they make it appear through magic!

We walked into this place Chris’ Lonely Planet had raved about due to its décor. It was like walking into an acid den! But the décor was truly amazing, like psychedelic. First you get your weed at the front counter (5 euro for a hash joint) then you can get a drink at the bar, they also make great mint Moroccan style Tea  here. Then you go sit down in the lounge/den and smoke, drink, chat and listen to music. The music was ok, although I had no idea who any of the artist were.  It was cool to be in there, the air was a little oppressive at first but it was interesting to see what a legalized pot world would look lie and the coffee shop is the perfect place to see it in a social and public situation where it is not stigmatized. Of course you can smoke on the streets of Amsterdam but people here don’t like it too much. It’s nice to not have it in everyone’s face all the time and it can get you in trouble regardless.

We then headed to the much-talked about and sometimes controversial red light district.  I have to admit there is something really strange and uncomfortable about walking by these little shop windows selling prostitutes and sexual experiences. The network of small streets cutting into each other that emanate hues of red in the nighttime are at times a little sketchy, at times, fascinating and other times almost embarrassing. I was all flushed just trying to sneak a peek without having to make eye contact and having them gyrate or stick their butts and tits out at me (or as in one case when I looked at her face she gave me a high speed Gene Simmons style snake tongue flicker). We ended up in an even smaller red light alcove, where there were a bunch of guys just wandering around going into the rooms, talking to the girls, so they do pretty good business here on any given night. The tourism must help a lot too.

A very funny thing happened on the way back too. We were stopped by this histerical Italian woman begging us to use Chris’ phone. She and her boyfriend seemed desperate so Chris gave her his phone. She then proceeded to call this guy up and started yelling at him to the top of her lungs in Italian ( I love how italians argue) about how he didn’t come to meet them to buy the cocaine he was supposed to buy. Her boyfriend this greasy long haired Italian rocker type then told Chris and I that if he would find this guy he would shoot him in the head. Thats when Chris and I were like “oookkk. we have to go now, can I have my phone back?” But the girl wouldnt have it. She would not give Chris his phone back. She was too busy giving this guy on the other end of the line hell on the phone! It was hillarious, her boyfriend had to wrestle the phone from her grip to give it back to chris who was yeling at her for his phone. Glad we could help the coke dealers through their ordeal! Just another day in the life in Amsterdam!

Chris and I ended up in yet another pub on our massive pub crawl campaign that night, probably by 1 or 2am we were feeling pretty exhausted and pretty drunk, so we headed back to his place and I literally extinguished on the air mattress he had set up for me.

The next morning we went to the market near his place and I tried Vietnamese Lumpias for the first time (delicious) with hot sauce. Then we made a scrumptious breakfast and spared no time to head out on our metallic stallions (I rented a Dutch bicycle with the big handlebars and the back brakes). We took the mini fairy to the north side of the city just to check it out, and rode around there in a cute little compact neighborhood then headed on back in time to return the bikes and go to a place Chris has been before, a wine distillery and wine tasting lounge called believe it or not Wine and Focking. What an experience! Basically the way it works is you come into this old style bar “they’ve been waiting for us since the 16^th century!” and they serve you samples of the latest distilleries and if you like it you can but the bottle. The first wine we had was the best, crisp and cool, and with juniper inside. Then we had a mixture of malts and the precursor to Gin called Jenever. It was delicious, and the wine tender was quite entertaining and knowledgeable. At this point I was totally buzzing again and it was only 3pm!

Our last little whistle stop was for yet another Dutch delicacy, raw herring with onion at a fish store nearby. I don’t think words can describe the feeling of eating raw herring, but there is nothing like it in the world, oily but delicious. It seemed to coat the lining of my stomach in a smooth and comforting way. It works very well with alcohol hence its popularity. Back at the home base to grab my stuff and head out to Dwaze Zaken the venue where I would play last night.

We both got there and it was a large and beautiful room filled with people having dinner. It was bar none one of the nicest atmospheres to play a show in on this tour. The staff, Rene, Herman, Alston and the waitresses were angels and gave Chris and I free beer and free food all night. I played to a packed room and sold a few cds as well. I also got to meet some of Chris’ Amsterdam friends and was paid a visit by an Amsterdam couple Florian and Amber, that I met at my show in Madrid. They are both amazing photographers and had seen I was playing and wanted to see more. I was happy to see some familiar faces. After the show in classic Passenger Tour style, I said my goodbyes to Chris and sank into the metro system bound for Berlin.  It was amazing seeing him again and having this experience. We’ve traveled to a few places together in the past and its always a riot. It was nice to reinitiate that. I left Amsterdam and took an 11:15pm overnight to Berlin where I am now washing off the last city from my skin to prepare it for what I believe will be the crowning jewel of this trip…Berlin!

Some articles, blurbs, bloffs etc etc.

Inciendary Magazine Review (Amsterdam & Netherlands)

Retroactive Goldenplec Album Review (Ireland)

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Kraftwerk…

I barely made my set in Brussels, arrived late with no sound check. At night it’s hard to find anything so I took a cab from the bus station. There were two other acts playing but I was so frazzled I didn’t even know who they were. The Passenger Tour is quite an amazing journey sometimes but there is always that one time when you come and go so quickly its only about the bar or venue you play. It isn’t  about the city at all. Brussels was that place. I had a 9:30pm arrival, a show at 10pm, and a bus to catch at 12:30am to Hamburg. That’s how it goes! It’s rare but that’s the way it is. Life on the fast lane. Fun fun fun on the autobahn!

This was my “piece de resistance” as they say. From what I saw the DNA is a cool venue, kind of a punk rock venue more than indie but they host all kinds of shows. I left tired but happy in a way and  arrived in Hamburg the next day tired weary and in need of sleep as well as shower. I developed this nasty head cold (only the head). I believe it happened in Prague but it’s been with me now for over 4 days. There was lots of nose blowing, sniffles, sneezing, and some couching. It doesn’t prevent me from moving around or playing but it makes it harder and or more annoying.

I’ve relegated to only drinking tea for now and to wear a scarf everywhere I go. I must admit however, that I do look a little haggard to say the least. Bus travel can do that to you after a while. It’s amazing to me even how much distance I’m covering these days. It would be interesting to calculate it all when I return home. There’s much more to cover though in the meantime.

Hamburg loves football, and I mean LOVE! Their team is St-Pauli. St Pauli is a football team in Hamburg and more like a religion. They are the “good guys” the underdogs of football and they stand for justice and peace and good soccer. Their empirical symbol is Che Guevara, their rival team is Rostock in the north of Germany full of boneheads and people that are essentially  sht disturbers and cause fights and fires at matches! It can be a real riot act. In Hamburg there are shows that sell only St Pauli paraphernalia. Welcome to German football, bigger than Jesus!

I arrived and was greeted by my couch surfers. A whole house of 5 lovely people living together in a commune style apartment loft; They were all really cool people and made a nice dinner, I was exhausted but happy to be in one place happy to be amongst them.

I played the show in Hamburg at the Belami. It’s an interesting place. It’s in the Bergdorf area of Hamburg on the other side of downtown Great staff there! Mike the owner was a real swell guy. The show was fun but it was an older audience,  but it was still cool because people really enjoyed it and I had some nice conversations about it afterwards I even learned to say a few things in German like. (please excuse spelling)

“Der nieschte song heist and Eich free mich hier zu sein.”

which means “I’m really happy to play here tonight”

“Das Nachtse Stuck Heist”

which means “the next song is..”

And “Das unst ein Bier drunken gein?”

 that means “will you drink beer with me?”

The audience loved that. They applauded when I tried, and that felt great. I will do more of that everywhere I play. I think Finland will be a real challenge though

One thing I love about travelling through Germany is how on the ball they are with wind energy. There are wind turbines everywhere along the roads. Some people see them as a visual pollution but I see them as a beacon of progress. the Germans are onto wind energy more than everywhere else. It’s clean, effective energy and we should cop an example from them. I even wrote a song about it on the road.

I had some problems with the power conversion of my equipment yesterday. My converter stopped working for some reason and I plugged it into the wall with only the adapter and heard a POP .I started to worry, I looked at my power bar and it was fried! oh.my.god! None of my gear was working and I was having a total meltdown!! It was over for me, I was sure of it; I tried plugging it into every socket and nothing.

The people I was staying with could see I was distraught so they ace in and tried to help me, they quickly realized that the whole room had no power not just my gear!! Positive sign number one! Then they realized my power bar was fried and told me where to go to get another, in come “saturn shop” whee i spent most of my time in Hamburg.  2 hours and 40 euros later I had a new transformer. Now I hope all my troubles will be over! not so…

That night, many of Franziska’s friends came over after work. Johann and his Girlfriend Charlotta, (Charlie) a few other people, as well, we watched the 100 year concert of St-Pauli and they turned me onto a few of their favorite German bands most notably the Dead Trousers, (Die Toten Hosen). A very famous German punk band from the 80’s who still play to sold out arenas today. Another band which I really liked that they showed me is called The Seeeds. They are an amalgamation of Reggae, Ska, Rock, Dancehall, you name it! They are one of the only supper happy bands to reggae in Germany (for Germany so serious and straight this is rare) and they sing in German and English. I really dug this band. I also really liked this guy that they turned me onto from my own country Canada, his name is John Lajoie and you MUST watch these videos. He is super hilarious, check out WTF collective and Radio Friendly Song amongst many other amazingly funny songs.

Then it happened, AGAIN! Johann and the gang asked me to show them how I use my loop station and how I perform after we had been having a jam together. I was more than happy to oblige but in a moment of complete absent-mindedness, I completely forgot to put a transformer for the voltage conversion between my mixer and then plug and.. BANG! “What’s that funny smell again?” Hans says oh shit, the mixer had died! What????!!!! NOOOOOOOO!

How on earth could I have made the SAME stupid mistake AGAIN!!!??? Am I retarded or what? I became so sulky at the thought I would now have to buy a new mixer, if I could even find one! The mood in the room suddenly became quite dark and I decided to leave the room and go sulk and ponder by myself. I sat there in my room (the one I was sleeping in) thinking how stupid I could have been and how now it cost me an important piece of gear which is not easy to replace and expensive and has to be replaced fast before tomorrow. Budget is tight and I cannot afford mistakes like this that will cost 200 euros +. After a while of intense beating myself up and sulking, I decided to use my own mantra and just say “YES!” to whatever situation presented itself to me, no matter how bad. I came back in the room, and cheered up again. All the folks in that house, Franciscka, Hendricks, Hanna, Johann, Hans, and Charlie, and all their friends, the Steindamm Hamburg crew as I call them, were worried for me. They are really amazingly cheerful, helpful fun to be around funny and super awesome generous people, They warmed my heart to spend this time with them and they were super supportive, like a family.

We watched more TV, drank more cherry liqueur and Astra beer (local beer in Hamburg) and then headed down to the Reeperbahn. I forgot my woes and decided to leave it to tomorrow. The Reeperbahn, ahhh what to say about it, how to begin describing this marvel of a red light district/strip phenomenon? We took the subway from central station to St-Pauli, a crew of 10 people, in a subway that was jam packed full of young people at 1 am ready to go out. Nothing ever closes in Hamburg, not bars, not restaurants, not even public transportation. The train rides through the Hamburg docks which are second biggest next to Rotterdam for all of Europe. It is a beautiful dock with a walking area and ships, buildings everything like a city on water. Hamburg is also the third biggest city in the world for musicals for some reason, Hamburg loves musicals, from cats and sister act to lion king, Billy Elliot and phantom of the opera, Les Miserables. There is an opera house bring built for more. The boys told me they don’t like the changes happening in Hamburg where heritage buildings are being torn down, the red light district is being “reconstructed” to look newer and everything is becoming more expensive. Hamburg has a long history of being a radical, left wing, a protest town where people always fought and demonstrated for their social value and for their town to remain true to its derivative nature. Alas, as in all cases, the people’s will is seldom the outcome. And so they deal with this weird gentrification of an old soul that I suspect will not die so easily. Hamburg’s got real soul, it’s just freaking awesome. Of course the Reeperbahn is just one of the reasons why. Johann tells me that Reeper means a kind of rope material that sailors use to use to tie their ships to port, as Hamburg has always been a port town, when the sailors would come they would go to the nearest street “Bahn or Way  and frequent the many brothels and prostitutes that were always waiting for them at the port. That’s how the red light district started then. It has gone from that to becoming a worldwide unique phenomenon spanning up to a whole block area where there are over 300 clubs in that small 5 street block. It becomes like a sexual arcade with thousands of people flocking the streets, where much like Amsterdam, there is a street with women on display in these kind of window shops where you can literally  “choose your girl” for the night.

We were accosted by at least a dozen hookers on the way there. Johann tells me its because we were speaking English, makes sense. Once you arrive to this street with the hookers on display called “Herbert Street” or Strauss, women are not allowed to enter it anymore. There is actually a bar just outside the street where as a husband, you can “park your wife” (their words not mine) while you go in to peruse or just see for youself. It is weird to me that women are not allowed. I didn’t take any pictures in there because I was told not to although I really wanted to show you all. Watch the video in the link though. But how to describe this experience? Well we walked through it and blushed every time I even looked at one of the Barbie-style hookers behind the windows which were lined up one after the next and decorated in that plush, sexy, erotic pink or purple style of cheap erotica. Every time I would look at one she would open her window and call out to us to come over. Hendricks tells me most of these girls have been working there 5 to 10 years and if you talk to them they are actually pretty cool gals just trying to etch a living any way they can.

We then walked through the old quarter of Reeperbahn where most of the cheesier clubs are and there a naked strippers basically hanging off poles just outside the bar. It’s a seedy place, also very colorful, lots of people. It’s also the street where the Beatles famously did the 2 year Hamburg run with Stu Sutcliffe (the 5th beatle, see the movie Backbeat) in the early sixties, where they got their outfits and bowl haircuts and honed and crafted their skills as a band, playing night after night after night, sometimes for hours on end. They would have stayed longer had George Harrison and Paul McCartney not set a condom on fire in their hotel room and been evicted from the country because George was too young to play in bars then.

Some of the clubs they played were the Indra and the Kaiserkeller but they played almost all the clubs on that strip. Those clubs are still around but no longer the hotbed for cool new music like it was back then. Rather now it’s an anti-musical gathering house for all that is safe, cheesy and mainstream in song, so of no interest to me. However if you look at my pictures below you’ll see them and get an idea of what it must have bee like for the fab four back then. There is also a little metal statuette dedicated to them on the entrance to the street.

We continued to my friend’s pub of choice called the Lucky Star.  Great place! A small watering hole, nothing to look at really, the kind of place I like to go to, unassuming, filled with cool people and cheap beer and great music. My Hamburg friends are a wild bunch! They took over the jukebox and started drinking the Jägermeister and Astra beer (hamburg’s best) at 1 euro a pop, (so cheap!!) Their excitement and energy was infectious and I quickly got into the drunken mood and spirit. We each got to pick out music on the juke and danced the night away howling and laughing, attracting everyone to our area, cause we were so awesome! A real wild bunch of hound dogs (Elvis was played many times here!)

5am rolls around and we were leaving the joint, hammered and stammering home. I was in bed at 6am another crazy late night. The partying in Europe is intense, much more than in conservative little old Canada that’s for sure.

Franciscka was an angel the next day; I was pre-occupied because I could not find a plug for my mixer that had broken. She took me to the biggest music store in Hamburg and they had a plug that made my mixer work (this voltage problem had been the biggest obstacle for me on this tour so far and I threw hundreds at it, but I learned my lesson now). When it worked I felt so happy because they did not have another mixer like mine in stock. I couldn’t believe it but seeing that little red light go on my mixer almost brought a tear to my eye. These tools are my friends, my raison d’etre right now, my source of income, my tools, my everything. When they break down, a part of me breaks as well. We are closely aligned right now, same with my suitcase, computer and jacket.

I know it sounds crazy and in a way it is but when you tour solo, it is so important that all your gear works, but for next time…simplify simplify! I felt a little like when I was a very young boy I had this little teddy bear, a yogi bear and I loved it so much, one day I played with it and something happened and its neck tore off! There was a big tear and all this fluff was coming out. I balled my eyes out crying to my dad. It was like Yogi bear had died! My dad pretended to give yogi bear an operation and I was waiting in the other room like a concerned parent in the waiting room during the surgery. He came out a while later and yogi bear was all good again, fixed! I was so happy! (ok I was 24 years old but so what!!)

This is the happiness I felt when the mixer worked. Everything became cheery again in a flash. Franciscka and I sauntered out and walked around this really hip neighborhood (which is now obviously very expensive) called Schanzenviertel where there were cool murals coffee shops and even a flea market where I almost bought a melodica for 15 euros but decided against it for weight purposes.

Then we went for my on air TV performance for Balcony TV. Balcony TV is an online show set on a balcony in St-Pauli where up and coming artists perform outside and it is recorded for the web (only in 6 weeks though). It was actually quite amazing. Johanna the hostess started it with a friend in Dublin and 6 years later they have a chain all over the world, New Mexico, Delhi, everywhere. I did an interview with her on air then played my son “Behold” for the Camera. The balcony itself was exquisite. It was on top of an old WWII bunker called Medienbunker overlooking the famous football field where the fabulous and god-like ST-Pauli club/team play and practice.

It is a mammoth stone brick giant of a fort, very somber and dominating, very austere looking but still a sight to Behold. It’s very famous in Hamburg as a heritage site and the Germans used to hide in there during bomb attacks during the war. Now its an arts complex. So there is lots of history there. Atop the balcony roof, I played my song and the natural echo was just beautiful. I felt privileged to have been given this opportunity to perform for balcony TV and thank the crew for their interest. Franziska took a bunch of pics below. I’ll let you know as soon as it’s up and running online.  I even did an interview afterwards with Anja Buchmann a journalist for a radio station in Cologne that covers new artists. It was really nice turn of events. I always feel so well treated by everyone here. I think I love Germany! People are so helpful and generous and effective, with their time and energy, AND they know how to party! It is inspiring to be here.

The journey never stops! Tomorrow meeting up with Chris Wise. He’s my old paly pal from Montreal living and studying in Amsterdam. I’m excited to see this great city which I’ve only heard so much about! Now I’m going to be playing there! I’m so lucky! Looking forward to reconnecting with Montreal peeps again too. I need that on this trip every once in a while. Sorry for the extra long post this time guys, hope you are enjoying all this!! Its all for you!

Ps: Special thanks to Franziska and the Hamburg crew in Steidhamm for their utmost uber awesomeness! Please come to Montreal guys so I can repay your loveliness and show you all a great time. You rock in every sense of the word.

Love and hugs (just like a yogi bear!)

Jon Cohen

Articles of Late..

Prinz Hamburg (Hamburg)

Belami newz (Bergdoff)

MoFoTo (Bristol retroactive)

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Bietels…

I want to apologize for the little absence over the past six days. I have been out creating content, soaking in a very adventurous spell on this tour. One that has taught me many things about the countries I visited. SO, without rushing I though I’d let the dust settle, and now on my way to Brussels then Hamburg then Chemnitz, Amsterdam and Finally Berlin to finish February, I can write with a bit more detachment and interest.

I left Bordeaux very very early in the morning, walked onto a full bus, which remained a full bus to the very end. I’m actually quite lucky I booked my ticket in advance; otherwise I wouldn’t have made it. I make a not to always book in advance here in Europe, as it’s not the same situation as in UK.  A long ride back to Paris, on a sleepless night, then from Paris through Reims, Strasbourg, Manheim Dusseldorf, then into the Czech Republic, then Prague (Praha in Czech) at 5am.

I’m not a fan of arriving in new cities in the middle of the night or early morning because, its hard to get bearings and also nothing is open. I had to wait until 6:30am at the bus station in order to buy my ticket to the next town and to exchange my Euros into Czech Korunas, the national currency (even though they are part of the EU, they still retain their own currency somehow, not sure how it all works, consult your nearest Wikipedia).  Once I exchanged currency I took the Metro from Florenc to Narodni Trina station, which is only a few stations away and as central as it gets in Prague.  The metro system in Praha is on the honor system, so there is no one there manning the tills, you can come and go as you please. I have to admit I didn’t buy a ticket not because I didn’t want to but because I couldn’t understand the ticket machine!! I had no idea which ticket to buy and it was all in Czech, it looked like a weird video game to me, so I chanced it.

The sidewalks and walking paths of Prague are quite beautiful, and made of separate stones or small little square mosaic stone, but very difficult to roll my suitcase onto these streets, quite a frustrating experience.  I arrived and was greeted by Julie Vostaslov, she had been partying all night until 7am and was waiting for me with some giant man she picked up in a bar who followed her home, and his shoe was the size of my torso. Welcome to Prague! Home of the all night party!

First thing she does? Sends her friend home and offers me Slivovitsa, an alcoholic concoction from her hometown which her parents make that would put even the strongest absinth to shame. Apparently it turns dreams into reality if you drink too much, (her words).  We drank some, and then she proceeded to tell me about the different traditions of the 2 types of places in Czech Bohemia and Moravia. Bohemia is the left side of the country and is basically Prague; the people of the region are bohemians. She is from the second biggest city in the southeast of Czech Republic called Brno (roll that r!) and Moravian. Apparently Moravian girls are much more beautiful and I can attest to that having a bonafied one in front of me. But also the Moravians are a little deeper, more intelligent and much cooler people introspective bunch. I had yet to experience the differences but took her word for it, as I was tired and now essentially drunk at 7am.

Julie then proceeded to tell me about an interesting tradition her town does over Easter (can’t remember how we got onto that topic). Apparently it is a must for all girls to answer the doorbell when it rings on Easter day, and who is ringing? A bunch of young boys if she is lucky, a bunch of dirty old men if she isn’t. The idea is that when she answers the door she asks them what they want and they say, “you know what”. To this by tradition’s rule the young girl must turn around and expose her backside for them to slap at will with these little wooden sticks! I must move to Brno!

The idea behind the tradition Julie tells me “is that the mothers put the daughters up to it every year because apparently according to lore, if the young girls don’t do this once a year on Easter, they will dry up”. That means they wont have any eggs, meaning no children.

By this point I thought I was dreaming, I think it was the Slivovitsa doing its spell on me. I got up excused myself and went to lie down for just a minute, exhausted, tired and a little overwhelmed even for me, I drifted off into La La Land.

I had very strange dreams of being this farmer on a hill and having 2 sheepdogs with me. It was cloudy and I was trying to follow the trail of one animal, what animal I wasn’t sure but It brought me to a cave with a giant mirror in the deep ernd of it. I walked in and I looked at myself in a giant mirror in this cave and saw I was old, so old! I had a long white beard and long bushy white eyebrows. Then I woke up, it was about 12:30pm. I noticed Julie was sleeping as well, she hadn’t slept all night either. I must have passed out. I took a shower, collected myself and made a tea.

Julie and I explored the city in the afternoon. She is one cool and knowledgable cat. We found a park with Peacocks hanging out everywhere! She told me a bit about the different attractions in Prague as we walked by them. Prague castle which the Disney castle is apparently modeled after, The hanging froyd statue which many thought were real, the old square, The John Lennon Wall, which is basically graffiti, Charles Bridge, the royal conservatory, the Astronomical clock (last one on earth still functioning), the old synagogue dating 1275 or something like that (there was a huge Jewish culture in Prague) Franz Kafka’s home in the old Jewish quarter. Apparently according to Lore, the Jewish mythical story of the Golem is set in Prague and that the golem is still somewhere in or around Prague.  I set out to find him! Then changed my mind.

We went to a bunch of pubs where we could get beer. Julie wanted to get an early start so we went for a pint at 2pm during which she once again felt ill and had to leave to go home and sleep. I continued exploring on my own. Prague is bar none one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever been to. Its not a hard sell, it just is, I mean, it has about 4 million tourists every year (I noticed many Americans actually and weirdly enough, many Thai Massage places). Tourists just come to soak in the nightlife, the culture and the insanely beautiful architecture, which was the result of so many occupations of the Czech people, form the Roman, the Ottomans, the Germans, the Austro Hungarians and finally the Russians.  This is a city that has sampled ruler ship by almost every empire in Europe and maybe even Eurasia. So its no surprise that it has such a rich history and rich architecture from all this ruler ship although the Czech people are the ones to have suffered for it from millennia after millennia. But the testament is grand and beautiful and it’s a gift to humanity that Prague has survived the madness and violence of the 20^th century world wars when so many other neighboring cities were utterly decimated.

I walked alone up to Prague Castle where the crown jewels are, didn’t grab any this time! But what a view, the city is vibrant. The old communist styles are still prevalent and hints of the iron curtain still whisper in some places, like the metro or some neighborhoods. During our earlier walk Julie was telling me about how communist life was here in Czech in the 80′, it was impossible to leave the country and every one was being spied on. It was all about collecting information. Kind of like what is happening all over the world today with information, cameras and the like.  They turned family members into spies against their own families. There was no rock music, no music or influence from outside, there was no freedom of speech, but everyone was still relatively comfortable and had jobs weirdly enough.

I returned to the apartment around 5pm, tired again and lied down, waited for my sound check at the Red Room where I was playing that night, very close by actually a five minute walk away. But on those sidewalks man, it was brutal on my suitcase wheels! At 8pm I walked into the Red Room. It’s bar for people from outside Prague (expats) living in Prague and there are tons. So the owner Matt plays all kinds of American and British rock music.  I set up my gear and started to play to the nicely filled room.

It was a weird show. I’m not sure how to describe it but it really turned on some and really turned off others. Prague is a weird mix bag that way. I was approached by Matt afterwards who told me he would only pay me half what he had promised because I only played one set. But I had never been told to play two sets! There was a whole lot of back and forth about it because I had already put all my gear away but had I known I would’ve played a second set. I went back to check my emails the next day and there had been no mention of two sets although he told me the night before that he checked on his email thread and there was, what a Sheister.

Julie and her friend met up with me at the bar and that was the saving grace of this otherwise pretty weird night.  We grabbed late night pizza at 3am and headed back to her place.

The next day we watched a few documentaries. Julie is big on movies and docs; she does translation and is kind of a culture junkie. This movie was a documentary on the reforming of the city of Bogota in Columbia. This is an amazing story actually.  It begins in 1992 with a city so crime ridden, so polluted and traffic ridden that everyone was living in perpetual fear and life expectancy was rather low with poverty at an all time high. Crime was the number one business and drug cartels were the number one form of justice. Then along came a university principal Antanas Mockus, mother was a radical Lithuanian sculpter and artist. He was famous for mooning an audience at an international rally. This outrageous act of dissent against the status quo in Bogota instead of shaming him, made him very popular with the youth and majority of the population dissatisfied with the politics of their city. Within a year the radical Mockus had won by popular vote the mayoral candidacy and was now mayor of Bogota. He was not a politician, he was not a skilled city planner, just a man with radical ideas on how to change things and most importantly his heart in the right place, to help and improve the lives of the people of Bogotá.

And he did just that. First he employed over 400 mimes (yes mimes) to teach bogotans about traffic laws on the streets, he even turned the brutal police force into mimes (mayors back then could do anything they saw fit without any interference form the higher powers), he instilled a traffic card system, built libraries, took a shower on national tv to demonstrate how to conserve water, educated criminals, and even went as far as picking up the trash on the streets himself and rebuilding the city. Within 2 terms he had done exactly and everything he had promised to do in his campaign including a public transport system.

Along came Enrique Penalosa, another blessing force, a visionary who took up the helm and radically transformed all the shanty housing, all the desolate lands, all the crime ridden areas of Bogota into beautiful parks, libraries, completely new roads and infrastructures, hospitals and homes for everyone, amidst lots of criticism and almost losing the mayoral race because of a vote of non confidence, he too achieved for Bogota all that he has promised. Where are these men today? We need more men and women like that to take over the dark age of politics we are living now.  We need true leaders, who will not just do what is right but do what seems wrong at first, to undo the deep shit we’ve dug for ourselves.

Julie has a great expression, which I’ve adopted and even written a song about “living in the deep shit”. (With a Czech accent, it sounds amazing). The other doc we watched is called Paskvil. It’s a doc I Czech about 80’s pop music in Czechoslovakia in the grip of communism. All the music shows and released on national TV or albums sold HAD to be “approved” for content by the ministry of Culture. It’s safe to say any lyrical or musical content deemed to be a “threat” to nationalistic identity or the ideals of communism or too “American” never saw the light of day. What remained was a weird pseudo-void in music that was filled with drab songs about how to drive cars, about why the hot water and cold water sinks were separate, about, how great Russia is, and about the most tedious and safe aspects of love and sex. But despite that watching this and having Julie translate the meanings for me, I was still really into this Czech music, its somehow really simplistic but totally new wave in a naïve kind of way, like it was completely not influenced by anything from the outside. It’s really stupid at times, really weird others, but a lot of it is really proggy, and they have some really cool sounds and hooks too. I was blown away by some of the music, which sounds like stuff we might have ripped off from the Czech. ! They were masters of synth sounds! Im totally going to get into Eastern European pop music from now on, an untapped world of untainted, uninfluenced pop awaits me! You can see the doc here and judge for yourself, it’s a six part series on you tube and although it is all in Czech and not subbed or subtitled, just watching the performances alone is really entertaining. Thanks for turning me onto this Julie!

We had a really late start on our Sunday and headed out to a local new bar that had just opened up which Julie had been to a few times. It was an old cavernous antique shop converted into a pub. Really cool candle lit place, with an old working piano and weird items like tricycles hanging from the ceiling.  We got some pints and sauerkraut-y things (big in Praha) chatted and played some piano. You can still smoke in bars and restaurants in Prague berlin and all these other places so the room was so Smokey and id forgotten what that is like and how it sticks to your clothes.  At one point we were serenaded by this big guy who sat at he piano and played every song by every tradition in every style and beat. A bass player was accompanying him and sporadically a big Czech woman would get up and dance and sing old Czech songs.  She was cheerful and it was all too surreal. Home at 4am again and in bed at 6. Crazy Prague nights.

Day 3 and 4 were a bit of a mesh of 1 and two except I switched couch surfers because Julie’s parents were staying with her one night. The other Csers were ok nice people they lived in a building on the very top floor and we went out together one night, with a bunch of other people. We ended up in the same bar as Julie and I had been the night before.  I also visited the fort of Vysherad the second settlement built in 973 or so which is also a church. The owner of the red room had suggested I take a walk there and I did, it was such a peaceful walk in nature, a cemetery a church, a beautiful view of the Vltava (the beautiful river that runs through Prague that Dvorak and Smetana, two of my favorite composers of classical  and even people  I once did a thesis on, had adored and composed several pieces for this beautiful river (also the longest one in Czechoslovakia. It is a peaceful and beautiful river, reminds me of the Ganges although I wouldn’t swim in either for fear of getting a buffet of diseases. Welcome to the holy rivers of the 21^st century! After that I canceled all my pseudo plans and just lounged around. I forgot how great that could be. I miss that being constantly on the move.

Speaking of being on the move, here I go again,

Here are a couple of more articles for shows coming up and retrospect…

Nightshift (Cambridge, page 27 pdf)

Proti šedi (Prague)

Rock&Pop (Prague)

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Neutral Milk Hotel… 

And what a hotel it was. Bordeaux, A bordello of fun, surprises and good times. I got to the border town between Basque country and France, a town called Hendaye. Cute little place, not much going on here except it’s the only place from Spain where one can catch a train to Anywhere in France. I took the train to Bordeaux, 2.5 hours of vistas outside my window. First unadulterated ocean side villages, followed by little hill towns of thatched red roofed homes, then Finally Bordeaux. Anais, the fiery redhead I met on the train who lived there but was studying in Biarritz offered to walk me to the Venue where I was playing that night. It was only five minutes walk from the train station but I was grateful to not have to look at maps and try to figure out relatively simple directions.

El Chicho is one of the coolest venues I’ve played so far. It’s set up as a Chilean restaurant on the main floor, but then you go down these spiral aluminum stairs to this big cavernous pizza oven style room (think Zoobizzare in Montreal) where you are greeted by a stage with a large stencil of El chi Cho himself. The kid, Salvador Allende, the Ché of Chile. He was traditionally considered left wing in politics, but he was left wing, fighting for the people, to have them own the rights to their own land, to their crops, to their country’s resources. Ge was staunchly against American interests which compromised the values of the Chilean people. He was also friends with Ché Guevara. Eventually he was overthrown by brutal Chilean dictator Pinochet, who eventually went on to oppress the Chilean people for over 30 years. Another south American fairy tale of C.I.A backed blood, murder, slavery and oppression and corruption, yay for economic progress!!

Allende gave his last speech vowing not to resign but eventually was found dead in his home. They say it was suicide but there is much speculation he was murdered by opposing forces who feared popular opinion would give him too much favor among the citizens of Chile. I remember in Cegep, having this amazing teacher whose name I forget. He was in Santiago during the revolution and the overthrow in the 70’s, he was my hero because he fought the good fight and talked about it. He was Canadian, he turned us onto people like Pablo Neruda, Claudio Bravo, Chi Cho and many more who were trailblazers in the south American uphill fight for human rights.

I set up for sound check with Jean, the soundman, and the opening act called Eyyes did the same; I met the singer Jimmy, very very nice guy. Also amazing staff at the El Chicho, I was fed empanadas, coca cola, beer, and anything else I wanted.  There was a door person working the door and in general everything was right on time, god I love European venues! The show was packed at 50 people +. Eyyes was really good too, a band from Bordeaux, he even played songs by Daniel Johnston and Beck. Closed the night and played a good set. People really are getting into it these days. And I feel really comfortable with the way it’s being performed. I think I’ve hit some sort of plateau, however I still feel somewhat limited as to how good my sound can be. Biggest order of business when I return is to nail that sound quality thing in the bud; it’s the last piece of the puzzle for a great show.

I was pseudo interviewed after the show by a drunk who was convinced I was the next R.E.M (wtf??) he spoke French really slowly and just kept saying “intensité paradoxale sur la scene”.  I had no clue what it meant but just kept nodding and slowly backing away! People really dug it though and it was quite a young audience (between 19-25 for the most part).

Julien Deverre is an awesome Frenchman.  There I said it.  I contacted him initially because his blog in France called  “Des Oreilles Dans Babylone” has a very wide readership in all of French Europe, with over 3000 hits a day. He is a real voice in European indie music.  As the main Editor I approached him about doing a piece on the Jon Cohen Experimental. He got excited and one-uped me by asking if I wanted to play a second show in Bordeaux in his loft apartment. I had the next day off so I agreed. The piece went up and got a lot of press, so it helped lots with the turnouts for both shows, which were really well attended, and with a very captive audience.

Julien and I left the Chi Cho at 1am and walked back to his place on Pessac Road only 10 minutes away. It was my first glimpse of Bordeaux as a city. Well it has very much the same architecture style stone buildings that say Paris has. But its very rare to see anything over 2 stories high, unless it’s a church or a hotel or government building. There is very very little green space in Bordeaux. I saw almost zero trees or green anywhere, it’s all roman like, stone and paved, like being inside a giant fortress, but what a beeeeaaaauuuuutifullllll fortress! I mean the sheer craftsmanship of these 700-1000 year old edifices leaves much to the imagination. Most older than our oldest known family tree, these buildings are still standing tall and strong, no damage whatsoever, unlike the crap they make today in 3 months or less, which wont last 20 years, these homes, shops, churches, apartments, residences of all kinds will be around long after we’re gone. There’s something very comforting in that I find.

We walked through the general square, there were late night drunken owls getting a kebab at one of the million upon million kebab houses you find here in Europe (its unbelievable to think how many there are).  We got to Julien’s place, he lives with his girlfriend Maude in this gorgeous beige stone apartment, with a closed in yard. The walls are over 500 years old! And if you think brick walls in Montreal are cool, you should feast your eyes on these!

We chatted and smoked a late night joint and just relaxed. Only my second on this tour. He played me all kinds of amazing music. You see Julien is a real music lover. He’s also a music promoter in town and has a huge record collection nooked away on the corner by a shag carpet where he can sit and escape reality. He’s a big fan of Bands like Beta Band, Other Lives, Django Django, Lone Pigeon, Neutral Milk Hotel etc etc. We heard it all. He is constantly discovering new music, and made me hear this amazing artist from New Zealand who record his entire one man band show for his mother in a tent outside in the forest. Food for thought for the next record maybe!?

Much like many people in Bordeaux, they are not from Bordeaux. It’s a transient town with people coming staying a few years and going, people tired of Paris life. It’s got that montreal easy come easy go vibe to it. I met so few “Bordelais” people actually born here, it’s a strange phenomena. Julien and Maude are planning to go on a huge Australian journey for six months in a van, which I think Is amazing, when they return, Julien plans on opening a record store in Paris. With his amazing taste in music and his ambitious attitude, I have no doubt it will be a success.  I have a tentative booking date to play in his new record store in Paris on the inaugural opening date, whenever that is.

The next day, I was woken up by good news, I got featured in one of UK and Europe’s biggest indie mags called the Stool Pigeon, a 950 word piece based on a conversation I had with a Hugh Langley, music journalist extraordinaire based out of London who loves what I’m doing and wanted to cover the story. It was shuffled back and forth for a while but finally the editor published it so I was super happy about that, even more happy because the piece is so well written and insightful and has wide readership all over uk, europe and Scandnavia. Thanks Hugh, you are quite the scribe! Hugh came to one of My London shows and we hit it off. Good Chap.  He has his own website which he is putting together called Music Broke My Bones, checkitt, its worth a gander.

Julien made this amazing hot vegetable pie. Man he isn’t doing any favors for the stereotype of French cuisine, cause it was out of this world. The French really are better eaters, this ain’t false! My stomach is living proof! And you don’t need to eat meat either to enjoy it!  Then Jules and I walked around the city, which is very walk able, through the main squares and boulevards of stone and brick, down to the Garonne, the large river that flanks the city (Bordeaux= bord de l’eau). We watched some long boarders and bmx=ers doing their thing on the square, then took a tramcar to the train station to buy me a ticket to Prague the next morning (5am yuk!)

That night at Julien’s was a full house as well, a different crowd, a bit older, some families too, I played to my first 2 year old and what an experience that was. Before the show went on, his mom brought him over to the area where I was going to play and he was almost shaking with excitement at all the neat toys I had on display. I was also sporting a Melodica, compliments of Julien for the night. He saw my bass and said “Guitare!” to which his mom replied “non cheri, ca c’est une Basse!” the child looked perplexed, then in disbelief he just looked up at me, pointed to the bass and said “GUITARE!!!” to which we laughed and said, “oui!”. Can’t burst his bubble like that! The child approached the instruments, and his mom told him not to touch, it looked like he would’ve had a breakdown but he obeyed! When I started playing, there was a speaker behind the audience too so when I started playing to the dead quiet room, sounds were coming from behind as well. I could see the child kept looking behind him wondering where that sound was coming from. He just couldn’t understand but he was so enthralled! I think I found my target audience, I’m gonna start playing to the 0-4 year old category from now on, what an attentive bunch!

The show went off without a stitch, I did a whole experimental segment with the harmonica and various percussive elements. I crooned, begged and pleaded in song with the audience, I prostrated and pro-created in song! It was lovely, a captive audience. And after the show I spoke with everyone, heard their experience of watching the show, engaged in great conversation. I even took some constructive criticism as well, which I love because it sheds some light on what the audience sees from their standpoint, which helps me to perfect my show. I love house shows, they are the best, the audience is there for you, it’s a cozy beautiful environment, not like a bar, there is no rush to move your stuff because you are staying there that night, and after the show it becomes like a regular party, which is the payoff. After playing I love to let go and relax, meet talk and dance with people and just have fun and enjoy the fruits of my labor. Maude, Julien and I were the last ones standing and we made Pasta at 3am then they went to bed, I stayed up and took a cab to the station.

I was invited out to continue partying by a group of people at 1am at this bar called “The Blarney Stone” which is an awesome reference to one of my favorite Bands called Ween. Against my desire I didn’t go because I had a taxi to catch at 4am to the bus station for a 24-hour jaunt to Prague. Apparently I have to go back to Paris and from Paris , east bound to Strasbourg, through Germany and then to Prague at 5:30 am.  Im on the bus writing this, on almost no sleep, getting ready to greet the Czech (Re) Public!

Here are a few new articles on the band, the tour and a show review in Oxford as well. B Tw I have hit the exact halfway point of this tour. I’m happy t say, Im in good spirits  Im having a ball, the shows have been a great success, and for the first time, I’m actually making a little dough, not a bad gig! Not too shabbs for a February in Europe.

The Stool Pigeon (UK/Europe -wide)

Music in Oxford Show review (Oxford)

Des Oreilles Dans Babylone (Bordeaux and France)

Musicquando (Madrid)

Music News Television (Madrid and Spain)

See you in Prague!

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The Clash…

Paris, Saturday afternoon, I made my way to the Galienni bus station. It was crowded. Stupidly, I hadn’t reserved my bus ticket in advance. I never had trouble getting a seat before so I didn’t think twice about it. When I asked for a ticket, however, the guy told me they were sold-out, what???

Oh shit! That was not good news. The trip from Paris to Madrid, Spain is a long one, an overnight. If I didn’t get on that bus, my only other option would be to schlepp across to the other side of Paris at Austerlitz station to grab a very expensive train down. The ticket agent told me I might get on a waiting list if I waited to the last minute and tried to go stand-by as some reservations sometimes get cancelled. I decided to try, to risk it. Come six o’clock there were actually a few seats left on that red-eye to Madrid! I was on, I got to the bus and the driver spoke in a high-speed Spanish I could not even begin to understand.

“Me español no Buenos!” I said, to which he continued to speak to me at light speed. I eventually realized he was trying to ask me where I was going! I’m such a dumbass sometimes!

And off we were, southbound, through, Fleuri, Nantes, Biarritz, Bordeaux, San Sebastian and Finally Madrid. The bus ride was long and tiresome even for me. Some 16 hours or so. Off the bus, on the bus, several times until we finally arrived after a last frenzied bus switch in a small town in Spain. Most of the small towns in Spain seem completely desolate. Where are the people?

Driving through the spanish countryside, I am reminded a lot of California, mixed in with the rocky mountains and barren wasteland of Arizona. You can maybe conceive of ii if you replayed the Ennio Morrecone soundtracks of Spaghetti western, like The Good the Bad and the Ugly. Really it all depends where in the country you go.  In Andalusia, apprently its completely different. There are rolling hills some mountains, plains, and little bushy trees. It’s a similar landscape as west coast USA but definitely not as lush or green, not as soil rich, stillbeautiful in its own way however. The haciendas, Iglesias and tatted roves of the houses  harken an era of donkey carts, ponchos and Alamos. The snow-capped mountains, long intertwining hills and large peaks as magnificent as any you would find in the Alps or the Rockies. Grandiose vistas and red roof hospedajes which point to a bi-gone era that fuels dreams. These are dreams which the euro has ravaged and outright destroyed in the name of economic unity in less than ten years. Spain is in dire economic straights.

Spain is now one of the poorest countries in the EU after Greece and Italy. It’s a sad state of affairs, because no there are no jobs and everything costs five times more than it did only ten years ago due to the Euro. It seems to me most people in Europe agree the Euro has completely eroded these countries financial independence and made life very difficult and expensive for everyone. Once again the banks are the winners and the people, the losers. It’s the same ol’ script only in a different setting.

The road to Madrid in the daytime was nonetheless beautiful and the weather was a balmy 9 degrees Celsius. I arrived in this great city smack in the center of Spain at exactly 1pm. It was Sunday and everyone was out. I emerged from Stacion Sol, into this amazing city.

What was awaiting me outside was the main center square of Madrid was amazing. There ewas a Mariachi band playing. There tons of people dressed up in clown costumes, tree constumes, fake statuettes, there was a demonstration, a square bustling with people where every drama in the world took place. There is this  weird phenomenon that is just relegated to this place I believe, and that is that of these old men dressed up as babies with high pitched voices beckoning passerby’s to give them money, its the strangest thing (see pics below).

Here more people spoke English than anywhere else in Spain. I walked up to the venue in the downtown center of this gorgeous colonialist city, met up with Lisa at the hotel and we wandered off into the town just for a laugh. It’s a beautiful city, with a palace, many museums, and gorgeous white clean architecture. I would like to live in Madrid; it’s a babe of a city. I mean the place is so neat and well designed, and the whitewashed edifices harken back to a time that was unspoiled.  There is much history here although I did not delve into any of it I was only there for a short time and these are all general impressions and I soaked in the atmosphere.

The notion of commonality is blurred between the people of Madrid and those of Barcelona. Unlike Barcelona, the people of Madrid are very warm, friendly and helpful. Madrid has a real bustling music scene. The place where we played, the Wurlitzer is an example of that. I met tons of great people who were genuinely into what I was doing and literally blown away by the show. When I arrived I had no bearings. I was going to meet my friend from London Lisa Baum here. She booked a hotel near the venue and met up with me for her little weeklong vacation.

Oh yes another thing is that my good friend Isabelle Picard from Montreal generously came all the way from Seville Spain to meet me and see the show. We met up with her in the evening and went for dinner near the venue. It was amazing to see her, she looks great and she is full of life! We had a gorgeous supper the three of us and were even given a complimentary bottle of champagne on the house! But Isabelle had to catch a bus back to Seville that night and missed the show sadly.

Everything in Spain, including dinner does not kick doff until very late at night, like 9-10pm. It’s weird but people here only start eating around 10pm!  They also have Siesta in the afternoon. So the show itself did not even begin until 11. It’s more on par with Montreal time but I got used to the British and Paris times of early shows starting at 9pm and forgot about late starts. So unfortunately Isabelle could not catch the show, she only caught the opening band. The opening band only went on at 11 and she had a bus to catch back, sorry Isabelle! It was so good to see you and have dinner with you!

I went on at midnight and by then there were many more people, I think I really connected with the audience and Madrid peeps really loved it! I love it when people let go during my shows; the entire thing becomes a hundred times more fun for everyone. I dedicated a song to Lisa, to Isabelle, to the occupy movements, it was one long musical dedication. I even spoke in Spanish between songs (rather a retarded version of it). Oh and the staff of the Wurlitzer were angels! There was a great soundman, there was a great treatment of artists, a bucket of beer and drinks and a dressing room, door man provided, it was just perfect. After the show I we met an American named garreth who is originally from Ohio sand is living as video editor in Madrid. He edits for this online music magazine and wants to do something with the jcex video-wise. We talked about how detroit is such a crazy city and covered lots more, interesting guy. We walked out of the club at 2pm and headed to the hotel down the street.

The next day Lisa and I had planed to go to Bilbao, a city in the North of spain, in the Basque country. As I have 2 days off we thought wed go wander around . So off we went to Bilbao in the north by the water. The Basque are different from the Spanish in their culture, their dress, history and finally their food. Here you can get “Pinchos” an amazing array of these little finger foods they make and serve just about everywhere. We fell in love with pinchos and ate as many as we could but as I don’t eat meat and Lisa doesn’t eat pig products or seafood except for fish, we were quite limited in our choices. We still ate lots though!

We arrived in Bilbao Monday evening and it was raining. Bilbao is set amidst many large hills and by the river. It’s a lovely and quite large and modern city. It has this wird mixture cachet of old Spain with modern art and many people here wear the Basque berets. We settled into the hotel and wandered the streets looking for food as we were famished from a whole day of travel. We found the mother load of all Pinchos in this weird mariner themed restaurant. At 1 euro 50 per pinchos, we ordered everything we could and wolfed down like hungry..well wolves!

What a great way to be introduced to the delicacy in Bilbao! The entire Bill was like 15 Euros for 2 people. We were hooked. The next day we had some free breakfast at the hotel (great breakfast!) and headed down to see the famous Guggenheim Museum, the heart shaped museum, here in Bilbao. There is another one in New York but nowhere near as nice as this one made of Glass and Titanium. According to what Lisa learned, it was shaped like a heart in order to pump people in and out of the main arteries and into the different exhibitions much like a heart would with b lood cells. Some amazing exhibitions like the circular echo chambers where you are forced to walk along the mammoth walls in concentric circles, or the light bulb portrait chamber, or the giant dog (which Lisa was able to pick up!) and finally the bubbles! Aah the bubbles!

The Guggenheim is a wonderful museum and a marvel of architecture. I’m glad we went. Famished and tired we walked the streets of Bilbao marveling at the wonderful array of umbrellas people here were sporting, (it rains a lot here)and snapping shots of them. We bought some more pinchos and looking to buy me a train ticket to Bordeaux. We found the old city across the bridge (reminded me a lot of Old Montreal) and sauntered in. Here we went from bar to barrio, restaurant to pub and drank beer and ate more pinchos.  Pinchos ranged from these potato omelets, to cod on bread with green slime (not the tastiest green slime I ever had!) and strange spreads with sardines on top. It was all a taste explosion and a sort of “eat at your own risk” attitude propelled us to become more and more adventurous with these pinchos.

We walked and walked the old city, found a long narrow little shop full of people but all they seemed to sell here were costumes, masks and penis paraphernalia, (yes I said penis paraphernalia ) all manner of rubber penis dolls, penis whistles, penis Sherriff stars, penis soap, penis, penis!!!! Why was everyone here? We thought it was the funnies and most surreal thing ever! Look out for a picture with a donkey toy that says “Be Prepared for the wildest donkey ride ever!” in my pics below! Although it rained al day it was one of the most fun days I’ve had in a while. We ended the night with a little nondescript Valentines Day dinner at a pizzeria nearby; I think the dinner made me a little ill though. We had tried to find this so-called vegetarian restaurant in town but to none of our surprise, it was either no longer existent or never was. I don’t think people here get the concept of “no meat”. It’s ham with everything and bacon on everything! Welcome to Spanish cuisine!

It was pure pleasure hanging out with Lisa in Spain, like a dream. It’s nice having someone to be a companion while travelling. We made a plan to meet up again at the end of my trip in London and I gave her the entire collection of My cousin Samy Goz cds (my cousin who does lounge music) to pick up upon my return so she can keep it as collateral that we will see each other again! Thank you for your amazing companionship your generosity and your humor Lisa, have fun in Zaragoza! ps: she came up with the title for this blog even though we are not in Andalousia

Now on my way by train To Bordeaux for two back-to-back shows, one tonight and one tomorrow night, I think these are going to kill!

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Massive Attack, and Tricky…

Hi everyone, I hope you had a splendid weekend. I haven’t written in a little bit. It has certainly been an interesting last few days on my end of the boat. One of the biggest changes that occurred for me was that after Bristol On Thursday night (which I’ll get to) I found myself sedentary for an entire 4 days! That means that I was London bound for the End of the UK leg of the tour. A total of 3 weeks in now (From Jan 16th until today) 12 cities visited in the UK, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. I was finally getting a little time off.

I spent Thursday night In Bristol. A place I’d been before many years ago. The venue I was playing at was called The Mother’s Ruin. It’s a pub and show venue where the stage is on the second floor overlooking the bar. An interesting setup to say the least. The sound was very rudimentary but the staff was very nice. One thing I noticed about Bristonians is that they like to wear really flashy sneakers and they have a very distinct accent. IT was very cold that night. According to the news snow was coming over the weekend. Bristol in on the east Side of the country, very close to Cardiff in Wales and Bath, the old roman influenced city. IT’s a manageable city and easy to walk around. It has an outdoor Market area, which is open everyday and sells all kinds of yummy foods. It is the home of the 90′s Trip hop movement with bands like Portishead (a small town just outside of Bristol) Tricky, Massive Attack and many more, today it has a really thriving music scene as well, especially electro and dance.

The show was well attended and the bands I played with were all very good. I played well myself but was always a bit confused as to which audience I shoal have been playing to as the stage was almost three dimensional and kind of askew.

I stayed with Rachel a couch surfer from Redding; she lived quite far though, a healthy walk and cab from the bar. So I left me gear with the bar only to pick up the next day.  I love it when venues agree to this because means the rest of my night Im free to go about and do what I please. In this case it wasn’t much. Bristol is a neat little city; I think people living there are really in love with it because it is so much more affordable than London. I woke up the next day and took a bus back to town where I would catch my last bus to London. Unfortunately, my all access “Brit Explorer” bus pas had expired that day and I was no longer able to use it, so I ended up paying 23 pounds to get back into London.

Once back in London, I took the tube straight to Camden, or Kentish Town where the last show of England would be. I’m not sure if its just my luck, but every time I’ve come in to London or left it so far, I seem to arrive or go in the thick of Rush hour, between 8 and 10 am or 4-6pm. That usually means I’m fighting the current of storm trooper workforce people either going to work or coming home from. Millions upon millions of marching feet, some scurrying to catch their connections, some just trying to keep up with thefts paced rhythm of London’s relentless human traffic in the underground. Then there’s me, with my heavy suitcase, slowly walking the opposite directions, looking at subway maps, barely lifting the suitcase, climbing up and down stairs (London underground is only 50% escalators, very handicap unfriendly). I always get pangs of fear when I’m trying to find my way in a maze of tunnels and corridors, and when I get on and off trains it can be difficult to find a spot with your suitcase and not get that claustrophobic feeling. People in London work very hard, pulling in 10 hour days easy. It’s baffling to me, but I respect the go-getter attitude.

I arrived and did a sound check at the Bull and Gate, a funny bar in the heart of the city, where to go through to the venue you have to cut through the bathrooms. The show was so so attended due to the extreme cold weather. Although we did get lots of press and hype for it. The bands were a little late getting on and by the time I got on to headline the show, I did not realize there wasn’t too much time left but still lauded my full set only to have the lights turned on and the owner of the place, an old Irish guy basically tell me to get my shit and get the hell out. It was a sad scene, promoters were gone with the tally, I was getting kicked out, lights were on, no pay nothing. Luckily, my friend Lisa and her roommate Adam were there and we still made a night of it. An Italian girl who proclaimed she was a lesbian and only spoke in vowels also joined us. She had taken a shining to her new boy toy Adam and he at her, thinking she was the singer of the Italian band that had opened for us (Mantra Above The Spotless Moon). All in all, it was a sad but hilarious ending to the tour. London can be like that, fickle with the music and bands, there are just so many things going on at any given time, so many venues and so many neighborhoods to find them in, it’s an overwhelming city and makes you feel quite insignificant.

I hung out with Lisa in London, whom I couch surfed with the week before. It was again lots of fun. She showed me the city her way, the fun way.  She has lots of enthusiasm for London, and she likes to walk and talk which I also love to do. She gets excited about showing me around and I love that. We must have walked for a total of 12 hours or so over the last few weeks. Lisa also taught me how to “pick up” large buildings, monuments, police officers, buses and street lamps, and capture it on all on camera! That girl’s got skills and she’s just the bees’ knees in my book.

I also stayed with my Montreal best/friends/almost family Sharri and Eyal and their daughter Maya who is just the cutest thing in the world. 3 days of doing absolutely nothing with them. Eating amazing organic food (they eat amazingly) watching movies (X-men), playing with the baby, working on part 2 of the tour and just plain relaxing. Being a normal human being for a while made me miss home, miss being sedentary and miss my life.  One of the problems with that is that now, I’ve put myself out of tour mode and gone into lazy tourist mode. Oh yeah, and It snowed here like 3 inches, people were out snowballing each other and making snowmen, It was like everyone was 8 years old living in Montreal, it was beautiful!

Since yesterday I began dreading the thought of getting back on the road again. I know once i get back in motion it’ll be fine but it’s the getting back in motion that is difficult, like getting out of bed early in the morning (which I also had to do). I had a bunch of problems with my bank too, which likely got solved and problems with the new Eurolines tickets. Apparently, I’m not allowed musical instruments on board Eurolines buses. Well, that was a little small print oversight! I’m going to have to wrangle my way onto these buses now for the next month, which is another little stress to think about.

Life on the road…

But it’s all worth it looking out at the open ocean now on the fairy to France. It was beautiful morning and afternoon, I’m beginning to look forward to arriving in Paris and having tonight and tomorrow day off, to get my bearings and begin the Second Leg of the Passenger tour. I’m sure there will be many new adventures to come and I’m ready to say, “yes” to whatever happens!

Gigs In Paris Feature (Paris, Bordeaux)

Longueur D’ondes (Paris, Reims, Bordeaux)

Que Faire Aujourdhui (Paris)

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