Dublin to Coldwater Canyon

The last time I spoke, I was expressing great excitement at a forthcoming trip to the USA to play some music in nursing homes in Los Angeles.

I now stand corrected - they are elderly care residences, not nursing homes. Alan will understand this one as I've spent many years correcting him on the exact same thing - a classic case of your own fly coming back to bite you on your own backside. My apologies Hedda.

I'm now here and Hedda and I have played 5 of our 13 shows with a really exciting one scheduled for tomorrow. It's been a roller-coaster.

Never one to allow myself to be idle (some might say rather stupidly), I scheduled in a gig with Peadar King in Galway on Sunday night. Peadar is a great up-and-coming singer-songwriter who put together a worthy debut CD last year but whose newer songs (which he says he plans to record in the Autumn) are way better. I'm in his current band with Cormac Dnnne on drums, Tom Portman on all sorts of six-string instruments and someone called Fergal on bass. He organised himself a low-key gig in Galway the night of the Macnas Parade during the Galway Arts Festival. Unfortunately so low-key that very few people were at it but the gig itself was great fun and nobody let themselves down musically, not even Tom who ate a dodgy chicken sandwich on Friday and was still feeling distinctly the worse for wear.

Aware of my handful of intense travel days ahead, I decided to decline my aunts' kind offer of a bed and head back up to Dublin on the night bus at 1.15 am. Some minor disturbance at the door of the bus meant that the guards had to be caled and so it was 1.45 before the drunken party was broken up (after one arrest). Rather tiresome and I slept most of the way back up.

Heathrow 4, Hatton Cross, Hounslow West & Hounslow East

My journey to America was to be convoluted. Having got home and slept for a short amount of time, I finished packing my sister's Enormocase (tm) and headed off to the airport on the impossibly wonderful Patton Flyer bus. First leg was Dublin to London Heathrow on Monday night to stay with my friend Marcus. Marcus is cool and lets me sleep in his house if I need to be in London for a night or two, or ocasionally three. Marcus and I have mothers who used to make waffles for the Dalkey School Project Saturday market (where I went to primary school, the school, not the market) and so he and I would play together and try and stay out of our mothers' way while they did the important task of keeping the schools' students fed with warm waffles with butter and maple syrup. Tough job but . .. . . . My sisters have taken on the job of performing the task for the current generation and Marcus (and, more recently, his mum) have moved to London. I am conspicuously absent behind the waffle irons but do enjoy eating them.

Ronan Swift, another friend of mine, is just about to release his debut CD but is also in the middle of recording his second album on which he has a song titled "Since The Last Song" which boasts an impossibly catchy chorus which lists the tube stations between Heathrow Airport and Hammersmith. It was with great excitement that I sang these lines to myself (hopefully not out loud but you can never be sure) until we got to the self-same Hounslow East whereupon the train stopped and there we sat for a long time - this will become a motif through this story. Apparently there was a signals failure at Hammersmith. A lot of rounds of that chorus were sung by the time I got out of the train. If it was out loud, you can call it advertising. Ronan, I'll invoice you later.

Marcus was at an audition on Monday night anyway so I knew I wasn't in a rush for time but, having arrived into Heathrow at 8.15, I arrived into Marcus' local tube, Marylebone (why don't they just call it Marleybone ?) at 10. 30. I waited in the station reading my 10p London Daily Standard and drinking Apple & Ginger Tea and eating my melted chocolate bar. I was just glad to have got that far. Happy days.

I had decided to bring my sisters' Enormocase so as not to have to pull two cases but it wasn't easy (London Underground - with its many steps and few esculator - is not designed for Enormocases) and so I was very happy to get back to Heathrow (whereupon I sang Ronan's song backwards - it's now all about selling your soul to the devil for 300 pounds and a Mars Bar) and get rid of the case onto the plane. I met Hedda at the airport so we both knew the other was there but she had already checked in and so we were in different parts of the plane giving both of us a chance to sleep and listen to music without having to feel uncomfortable about being anti-sociable or anything. Very satisfactory.

We are Sailing To Philadelphia

The second leg was London to Philadelphia whereupon we were to go through immigration, re-check our bags and then get onto an internal flight to Los Angeles. The usual waiting around ensued but the plane journey was pleasant apart from the usual 2-year old child who wouldn't stop screaming all the way, all the way while I was awake anyway Not entirely sure what we were going to get in the culinary department (for free, that is), lunchtime was a voyage of discovery in itself. You would have thought that you'd get lunch on a trans-atlantic flight but I'm still a novice at this lark and so it still surprises me when they give you things for free. And it was good - really nice Chicken and rice sort of stuff if I remember rightly. It seems so far away now.

The flight took off 15 minutes late and arrived in 25 minutes late, turning an 1hr 40min turnaround (possibly not long enough anyway) into something very much smaller.

Philadelphia Freedom (dang a dang a dang a . .... . )

Immigration was a big gloopy mess with them taking a long time to get everybody through. It seems nobody actually goes on holiday to Philadelphia - they just all use it as a hub to transfer onto other cities so everybody was connecting which seemed to serve only to slow all the immigration men down. Mindful of Ian Dowse's reminder to me in 2000 that I didn't need to tell the immigration man 'everything' that I was going to do on my trip (as opposed to this blog where it seems imperative that I do tell you everything) I kept my answers brief and, after a long time waiting, being neglected, selected, detected, rejected and selected (not to mention all the other mean, ugly, nasty things that might have been happening to me), I was free to go on my merry way (with my customs form stamped too for good measure). \

Alas, it was not to be my lucky day, or maybe it was. Having been in the air for 8 hours, I was dismayed to learn that the next leg was another 6 hours. Still aware that the first gig was on the next day at 11am, I raced down the corridor, checked in my bag, showed my passport and boarding card to another 20 people and got to gate B29 with loads of time - or so I thought. The fact that nobody was in the hall waiting on the boarding of the plane ??? That might be because they were on the plane taxi-ing out to the runway, Hedda having already done her violent arguing with the air-hostess who finally told her to 'get off the plane or shut up' (or maybe it was sit down). Either way, she did both and off they went without me.

The US Airways staff were much nicer to me. After the first lady anyway who saw me at the metal door to the boarding ramp and told me "sir, step away from the gate" which I did. After that, they were very calm and nice and put me in the Hilton Hotel for the night and gave me meal vouchers and put me on a flight the following morning. A few other people missed different flights too and it seems they were all treated the same way. Hope that's not happening too often or US Airways won't be around too long.

Only problem was that I had no baggage - the Enormocase had gone to a big room somewhere in the airport and would be returned to me tomorrow in Los Angeles. Went and got internet time and e-mailed m uncle Rory who I was due to be staying with and bought a charger so that I could text Hedda (who was also due to be staying with Rory but had never met him). Apart from the fact that I thought the shop had sold me a dud charger and I spent half an hour trying to get back behind airport security to return it before realising that I was being EXCESSIVELY stupid, life was good. Thanks to Brian Houston and Cormac Dunne (both band members with Roesy at the time), I learnt a few years ago to stop getting stressed about the things you can't change. My life is immeasurably better for it and this was one of those situations. It was inconvenient but getting stressed wasn't going to make it better. Once I realised my mistake with the phone charger, I took off on the train and explored Philadelphia for the night.

I was only there for an hour or so (it was already 3am in my head) but what a city !!! Go there, and better still, bring me for a longer holiday. I have a plan for next year to go exploring music cities in the USA. It started with quite a modest number (Seattle, Chilcago, Nashville, Austin, Athens, New York, New Orleans, Memphis) but has now grown to involve Philadelphia and Detroit in the last three days - I'm not sure how practical it is anymore.

When I did get to LA, my uncle very kindly came to the airport and saved me and brought me to the second gig but in fact Hedda had a wrong address for the first one so it's now been re-scheduled and I haven't missed anything. Excellent.

Have now done five gigs in elderly care residences - got it right now. No dementia involved but all completely different audiences, a range of different ethnic backgrounds involved but quite often the same ethnic range wll run across the one residence. For instance, this afternoon was mostly Spanish whereas yesterday morning was mostly Vietnamese. This morning and yesterday afternoon had a lot of Caucasian people with english as their first language. It's a wide range of disciplines we're training in ourselves and there's a lot more variables than we'd have to work with in Dublin so that's good. Tomorrow, I'm playing the grand piano at the Senior Artists' Colony in Burbank. I'm pinching myself here - could yet still be a dream. The residences are beautiful - large buildings (but not high rise) built specifically for active elderly but with a high priority on community within the centre. All the complexes run independently but are managed by EngAge and have an extensive optional events calendar and a 'clubhouse' room to do these in. If our gigs have been anything to go by, these events are well-attended and the staff are kind, caring, creative, and productive.

Perfect Weather To Fly

On Wednesday night, I took my uncle to see Elbow in the Wiltern Theatre. Having been a big fan of KCRW Santa Monica for a long while now, I've always been intrigued about the Wiltern Theatre - it's always seemed to be a cool place where cool bands (to me) played. I was glad to get the chance to go.

Elbow take my breath away every time I see them. As a music fan, they inspire me to believe that good music can get out there despite the rubbish that is getting into the charts. As a musician, they astound me but intimidate me too, such is the standard they're setting the bar for the rest of us. As usual, they blew their support slots out of the water although I did enjoy Jesca Hoop, a girl I didn't realise was British until I saw her Myspace this evening. Jesca was doing a wispy acoustic thing with a female backing singer and the effect was very pleasing to the ear although my uncle asked me why she composed all her songs in the same key, something I couldn't answer but had to concede was true. There were two supports, nearly always a stupid idea. The second support, Mellotron, were neither mellow nor good. Their drummer was interesting in his parts. Their vocalist undid all the good their drummer might have done for them. Elbow were astounding as always. With two ladies playing violin and singing, the effect was to broaden their sound without compromising the familiarity their fans feel to the material. They kept running away for the songs they weren't needed on - I'd have liked to have heard more of them. For the first time ever, I actually saw the concert having always been in the crowd before. This time, I was in the front row of the circle and had my telescope with me. Oh my goodness.

Last night, Hedda and I went to a free gig in LA Pershing Square - Rocco De Luca. One of Hedda's MySpace friends, I enjoyed it but he had a drummer and no bassist which is always something I'm wary of, and was so uncommunicative with the audience that I lay on the grass and eventually nodded off. Might be going to something else with him in it tomorrow night - if the situation improves, I'll let you know. Also have been listening to Angus & Julio Stone's CD which my sister's godson sent her - they're from Australia and it's really good.

The I-Pod is getting good use - am also working my way through the audiobook of Barack Obama's memoirs of trying to get to grips with issues of race and identity, as well as trying to explore the enigma of his father. Incredible book, incredible man. His observations are staying with me as I myself observe America on this holiday on the streets of Los Angeles.

It's a Barnum & Bailey World, Just As Phoney As It Can Be

I haven't come to any definitive conclusions about Los Angeles. In general, I'm not taken by it but there are spots. Hedda and I stood in the Pacific Ocean at Huntingdon Beach yesterday and I let the warm water lap at my legs and the occasional breaker get my shirt. I have never felt sea water so warm and I commented that this might be the environment where I would actually learn to swim. I couldn't realistically live here. The place is a vast expanse of houses categorised into the ethnic groups of the people living in them and downtown is functional to the point of tedium - the Los Angeles River, Road numbers instead of names - it does seem like everyone is putting on an act. It's like they're in a film themselves. We went this evening to Universal World, a theme park that has a large free section without rides but with cinemas, shops, places to eat. The Bubba Gump Shrimp eaterie was a show in itself and, entertaining as it was, it was a relief to get back to the car. Yesterday, I couldn't believe how many people were at the Pershing Square gig but as soon as it was finished, they vanished. Show's over - time to go home. I'm not sure if I'm being very lucid here but it's been a very interesting time for me.

Then, on our way home today (and we only did it because of a wrong turning), we drove up Mulholland Drive and down Laurel Canyon, taking in the 70's houses of all the amazing singer-songwriters I grew up listening to - David Crosby, James Taylor, Carole King, Joni Mitchell, Stephen Stills, Glenn Frey, Don Henley, Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, they were all neighbours. What incredible parties they must have been. They all ended up moving out to Malibu when David Geffen made them all superstars in the 70's but the houses are beautiful - modest, pretty, houses on the side of a mountain in the shade under trees. Oddly inspiring. Not sure why.

It's been a fascinating week and I'm wrecked. More to write but on another day. Take it easy !!

Key in ignition, chug chug chug (in a font that people can read !!)

Here's what I wrote - I could read it perfectly but I understand that you all thought I had either gone mad or was being VERY profound !!!
*********

I've always been about ten years behind everyone ("Email, that will never catch on etc") and so it's with some trepidation and embarrassment that I sit down tonight to restart my Twitter account (which I said two nights ago on Facebook that I would never do) and start a blog. The idea of being allowed write all your random thoughts down and that people may even be interested in reading them is hugely novel to me (and they don't even have to rhyme which has always been my problem with lyrics). I may have to end up going on auto-pilot and it will just remain to be seen whether I am interesting or not.

Have spent some time this evening re-jigging my own website so this is why my head is on these things. Always up for a game of a Thursday evening, a good friend had suggested doing it and so we'll see how it goes.

Next week, I go to California. Not for a holiday you understand, but to play and sing music in 16 nursing homes over 10 days. I work occasionally with Serendipity Theatre Group founder Hedda Kaphengst and she has invited me to join her on this trip to bring the show we created for the Bealtaine Festival in May to Hollywood. My fair complexion will make suncream a must but I think I can survive. When I return, I start recording my third CD, a new proposition as this is the first CD I've gone to record that the music isn't composed yet although I guess I still have two weeks. I've always enjoyed the deadlines and I have some stuff we can start on even if the whole thing isn't ready for day 1.

So, a fun couple of weeks ahead. I have one more day of a music business course run by Music Network to complete tomorrow after which I should be ready to conquer the world with my music NOT. But I'm a hecck of a long way further than last Sunday evening.

see ya, josh