so we get the families to the airport and their flight, then thøger and i head to ours.
it’s a sever slice of sadness that slices though the separation, no matter how short.
thøger and i deal with easyjet’s hassle of guitars and blah blah bags.
it doesn’t matter. it all feels like a treat. living like this and working as such. please, take all my money. you are fantastic. this world is astonishing. even at 35,000 feet with orange interior.
we arrive at london’s gatwick and meet up with the danes in giant sand now. from spains to danes. this is a full sonic life. then we are fetched to brighton and commence setting up for the festival there inside the dome. the weather has a noticeable chilled tint to it.
the trick was to fly into gatwick because its so close to brighton.
and that means a short ride now.
brighton arrives around us and the sun is shining and people seem rather happier then normal. its lovely in the park and looks like we are playing the “dome” again. did so 5 years back with the ‘sno angel posse. the stage gets set and we do up a sound check, but i am like a confused television wondering what channel i have been flicked to now. and like that puzzled tv, i simply go with the flow. which are these songs we are playing now ? they must be channel 5 songs.
sarah blaskow shows up in time for some checking songs. so fine to see her again, and completekly wonderful to hear her sing. she kills a new version of “cracklin’ water”. and she has studied up on the new songs and nails them. she is an angel. that voice and soul is so soothing. then we both go up to another floor and commence with a live radio thing. thøger and anders comes too and we all just rehearse some more there on air. it makes for better radio then some boring rehearsed song too well played. so its action packed by the lack of prep.
then to sarah’s fave local pub. she lives here now. we all arrive from different jaunts and suckle froth from a big pint glass.
at 7:00 i beeline it over to catch rachel blackman’s one man’s show at a small theater near the station. we ran into each other by that coincidental force at the dome earlier and she informed me.
i sneak a little late. its very small and intimate. she is rocking her charcters. so many of them. its transfixing. i am held fast. how is this kind of show possible and how does she pull it off ? great writing and powerful execution. timing. grace. flare. beat. segues. its riveting.
when i get back to the venue to prepare for our set, i think i may have gotten too full from rachel’s set to ravage my own set. so maybe its complacent by comparison. damn. i think the memory of our show will be good for the onlookers, but it left me feeling less challenged, and i missed the electricity that that blackman woman instilled in hers. still, it was sheer delight to have sarah involved. the end.
so we gather with friends from the hood in brighton and enjoy the last waxing moments of thøger’s 39th birthday. anders has collected himself a gypsy band (roma style) from the streets and invited them in to play the bar of the dome theater for the sake of thøger’s b-day party mode. the night evolves. eventually i settle in to the lobby and sip the BNJ blended that mike brewer has so kindly gifted. some chat with toby aimes there and the band and the opening band of devon from virginia. and the evening closes. i return to my room, and the late check in affords me the handi-cap room. i think of vic chesnutt the entire waking moments there. but it’s the only room of the hotel with a window that opens and allows the glorious brighton seascraped atmosphere to permeate and properly bask all sizzling dreams coming into play. the end.
