zurich, switzerland – november 30
waking up across from the el local in zurich. it’s a small infamous venue owned and run by a soccer star from the 70s named victor. he is tough dude, somewhat slanted and harbors a high passion for music. many years ago he gave me a mix tape i ended up using for at least 2 years in my sets with my portable walkman, letting it play in moments of the set and not ever knowing exactly what would play, but always challenging myself to make it work within the song i was about to tackle. that worked pretty good for a long time.
anyhow … the welcome was immediate. the people working in the club seemed to know who we were from the first crust of breakfast bread cracked.
before the show the burden of sleep began to spin its curse upon me again. i could not overcome it. i headed out to the bus for the drench of nap leading up to the painful rude wakening of going to work fresh out of sleep.
instead, i ran into the posse from lucerne outside. so good to see them all. and sibylle there volunteered to cut my hair. and only since i need it so bad i know i have to remain awake for the opportunity. and so it goes. snip.
and the funny feeling of slouch and heavy lidded slump while the hair is getting cut. but it gets me through the hefty addiction of nap time.
meanwhile, the club is over packed. up to the rafters packed out. the first setters do well with them all. and then its time to shake off the slumber stains and get to work with freshly cropped fur.
there are problems with some equipment on the small stage. the electric piano is crap again and unplayable.
my magic gold pedal has bit the dust too. but the crowd is so amped up, i have to just play off their energy and make some choices accordingly. keep it all flowing is of foremost importance. and it flows. almost too easily. the crowd is going bonkers like we are teen stars. its freaky.
we finish up with a roar. the place is going nuts. we try and get away, but no, the encore has got to happen so there will not be a riot. then again we try and stagger up the clotted stairs of too many humans. and victor requests a solo song, acoustic like. a good idea. but on the way back to the stage, folks are touching me and telling me things and its weird. they are all crazy hyped on the nights show and it does not feel comfortable or really good. it feels weird. pats on the back shouts of praise feels weird. like an allergy. but the opposite would be a drag too. so what gives ?
i get the last song over and done with and all is well. i escape up to a hidden rafter corner of the top bar and have a water and an afri-coke.
i am thinking about adoration and its discomfort.
i think about the last 25 years and its relative avoidance. there is something else that has fueled this longevity, but not that. but if too little exists, then this train comes to a halt. too much of it and it does not feel right either. i seem to have simply made me a dark corner to settle in, remaining unhampered and safe from critique and success, but allowed to get on with the work at hand here on the farm.
the funny part of the evening comes after i am settled there a bit in the dark corner of the bar. victor comes over to congratulate and talk. he wants to give me his ipod for having played such a grand set. his ipod has 160 gigs of music on it. i have no idea what to do with that much music. its funny that gigs is also what we call live music. his reward used to be a mix tape, now its this.
when the grey mole band comes over to chat, he tells me how great they are. then he turns to them and says their upcoming gig is now not going to happen because of … me. no one knows what he means. but he says it over and over and then grey mole boys look like they are being to the test. it’s a psychological test, and it begins to crimp the surrounding smiles that are wickedly perplexed. there is something in victor’s logic that has to do with tonight’s show being so good, but it is also standing for why he is pulling the grey mole show, this swiss band that stands here before us that lonna also sings and tours with. no clue.
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