We're on tour out here, almost two weeks into the tour. It has been really really good so far. This time we are out on a bus with a proper trailer and sleeping bunks so we get quite a bit more rest, a little bit more privacy, and a lot more time together where we can actually do some productive things.
Some highlights include:
Barton Springs, Austin TX
Balmoreah State Park, West Texas
Cathedral Rock, Sedona, AZ
It's really just the beginning as we will be heading up the Pacific Coast all the way to BC.
ready to do laundry...
We are a good two weeks into the tour, and things are going pretty well. Most of our shows have been in government-subsidized nightclub/cultural centers. Les Pipot in Boulogne Sur Mer (just across the Channel from England) is a little different in that it's more of a theater/cinema with built-in seats. People were still dancing, but not like in the other spots.
Update:
I few days ago I left New York to go on tour in Europe for three weeks. Here we jump into day four of the trip. I don’t like to disconnect myself from the actual moment which is why I don’t write all that much, but sometimes like now (on the highway heading south in the back of Peugeot 307), I can get my head into it…
Last night we played in La Chabada in Angers. The club was very nice, clean, spacious, with very friendly people. They received a significant portion of their budget from city and regional government arts funding.
The club has a big dining room attached to a kitchen, where the band and the crew of the club dine together before the show. It is no small affair, with salad, fresh bread, carafes of wine, delicious entrees (last night was caramelized chicken and soy patties and vegetable puree) with a delicious carrot and red cabbage salad with a light splash of sesame oil. The dessert was a bowl of chocolate fondue with little pieces of fruit in a bowl with a skewer for each person. Dinner has been like this the past three nights, and I have really been enjoying it.
Once a month or so we enjoy meals this good in the states, and it has been like this the past three nights in a row. Normally we get a “buyout” usually ten dollars a person and we each go out into the unknown city to try to find something decent and affordable to eat for dinner.
Another nice thing about last night’s show was that not only was the DJ (Manu of Comet/Mind Records) great, but the club curfew wasn’t until 3 AM, which gave us plenty of time to perform (three hours plus an encore), but time to dance and enjoy ourselves afterwards. It was Marcos’ birthday, and we celebrated intensely.
Bad Jobs
All of the previous paragraphs are a prologue to what I was thinking about when I started writing. Last night every single person that came out of the club as we were packing our equipment up personally came up and thanked each one of us. This is not too uncommon, but I realized last night that not one person left without thanking us, and giving us the opportunity to thank them as well for coming out. Stuart and I were talking about how fortunate we are that people actually thank us for what we do, and I began to think about how good it would be if we showed the same appreciation to everyone when they do their job well. I was also remembering some of the shitty jobs I have worked, in particular my day-and-a-half stint doing telemarketing selling accidental death and dismemberment insurance.
More meditations.
I see graffiti everywhere here, on walls, overpasses, along the highways, and there doesn’t seem to be any major effort to fight it or cover it up. It’s there, and it’s part of the landscape, reflecting the presence (and hopefully creativity) of the people who live there and express themselves on the street. Some are beautiful multicolored pieces (like in the parking lot of Chabada in Angers), while most are two-color throwups, and some, but not many, tags.
It strikes me as comical the way so many communities in America spend so much time and money fighting graffiti and trying to cover it up rather than embracing the creativity and listening to the voices of those who are writing. Just another example of how antisocial American governments can be…
We drove and drove, from the Narita airport to Shibuya, first through very tidy highways through industrial zones.
Then things got denser and denser, and the highway climbed to 8 stories high, winding through city blocks and sky scrapers, then burrowing deep into the ground like the Big Dig, the underground expressway maze underneath the city of Boston. We finally got to Shibuya, covered with neon, intersections jammed with pedestrians, shops and apartment blocks stuffed together and rising into the sky.
The hotel is a fancy business hotel and we are just getting cozy with a cup of tea and free internet.
I am writing from Interstate 71 between Columbus and Cleveland. It is no small irony that last night Antibalas performed at the birthplace of Col. John Thompson, the inventor of the automatic machine gun known as the "Tommy Gun" used to exterminate Native Americans and Chicago gangsters.
It is hard to maintain hope sometimes, in America, because the hopeful and healthy seem very outnumbered. Bush and Kerry signs fight for space like Coke vs. Pepsi. The next organic apple lies a hundred miles away, while one finds 8 kinds of beef jerky and 20 kinds of soda at the next exit.
It seems sometimes, that those many who reject or oppose the dominant culture of white supremacy, instead of confronting it and addressing it, retreat into their own insular subcultures of style and consumption and sometimes heavy decadence, rather than moving forwards into something sustainable and inclusive.
When are we going to realize that in the end, there is no such thing as "them" or "us." We all bleed, eat, shit, die, and love, or need it, anyway.
Nashville, TN
Walking around the suburb of Old Hickory (birthplace of genocidal mastermind President Andrew Jackson), nearly all the lawns sported either Kerry or Bush signs. With Halloween a few days away, I can't help but wonder how much politics will enter the 2004 trick-or-treat season. Hopefully it rains everywhere. Kids all over America will be several pounds lighter, have a few cavities less, and be spared the ripple effects of this pathetic election happening in a few days.
Indianapolis, IN
This is one of the former areas in which the Tribe of Ishmael lived. The Ishmaelites were a mixed tri-racial society which lived in present-day Kentucky and Indiana from the very end of the 1700s until the very beginning of the 20th century, when westward expansion and forced sterilization and state kidnapping of an entire generation of children ended their existence. I asked a few people in town about this and nobody seemed to know of anything.
At our performance at the Vogue Theater, I dedicated that day's performance of "Pay Back Africa" to the spirits of the Ishmaelites and said a few words about who they were. There was an enthusiastic shout from somewhere in the crowd, but I couldn't tell where.
After the show, an Afro-American man approached me and told me how much he enjoyed the show. "I don't agree with your politics," he went on, "but I loved your music." A confessed Republican, he raved about how much is a universal language that brings all types of people together. I wasn't sure what to make of him. On one hand, I am always pleased to see people of color making enough money to fall into one of the elite income brackets that supports the Republicans, but on the other hand, it has been Republican cuts in social spending and affirmative action that have catalyzed the deterioration of black communities all over the country. The plot thickens...
We are at the Beachland Ballroom tonight. We've been here several times before. The crowd is very friendly. Matt and Mary drive up from Akron with interesting live concert recordings and other treats. Our Nigerian friend Charleston brings plaintains, rice, and chicken, and there is an older man (over 75) who saw among many others Thelonious Monk perform live and he comes religiously to our shows here.
Here in Cleveland the Cuyahoga River caught fire twice. The bigger fire was in 1952, but the 1969 fire was the one that shocked everyone and helped spur the national movement to start cleaning up American rivers and lakes.
Here we are in the Windy City. I have decided to keep this blog PG-13 despite the readers' collective groans for titillating stories about tour.
For the most part the stories are "you had to be there" type-things, and if there is something interesting or funny enough that I can possibly relate and not get anybody in trouble, I will.
We are in Chicago, performing at the Metro tonight. It's a pretty big place and a lot of national acts come through. We played here last fall with the group Yerba Buena. Our show was great, but I can't help being reminded of a mini-disaster which I caused. Outside the club after soundcheck, the Yerba Buena bandleader Andres asked me if we could give them 15 extra minutes to perform since they had 30 minutes and we had 90. I figured that would be okay, and got the okays of a few (but not all of the band members).
The group ended up staying on about 25 minutes, and took an extra long time getting offstage. When we were finally ready to play, a lady from the Hothouse (another Chicago venue) ended up talking for another 10 minutes, which ended up cutting our set short by nearly 40 minutes. Afterwards, the rest of Antibalas wanted to kick my ass.
To add insult to injury, most of Yerba Buena was completely rude and aloof towards us, as if we didn't exist. Mind you, they opened for us... The bari sax player, Ron Blake, was completely nice, as was Pedrito, the conguero/singer.
Other Chicago memories...4 years ago we came drove straight out and did 4 shows in 2 days...with 8 or 9 of us eating some LSD and walking around the city marvelling at the architecture and warped sights and chilly Lake Michigan winds. That was the first and only time we ever did something like that and it was a lot of fun...
Today I went with one of the saxophonists to his optician to get his glasses fixed. "I'll be at the show for sure," the optician said. "I have my Antibalas t-shirt in the car." He shook S's hand and whispered into his ear "...right next to my hash pipe."
Ladies and gentleman, we need to legalize marijuana and hashish, because men like this smoke freely from the law while poor folks and people of color spend years of their lives in jail for doing the same thing...
Qué mas...
The Ocote Soul Sounds got a little review in Latin Vibe website. Adrian Quesada and I have already started working on some new stuff to be fleshed out in late November at his lab in Austin, Tejas.
Thanks to Senta for putting me up at Gopala Yoga studio last night in Madison. I hope you aced your Veterinary Medicine exam today. Thanks to Mr. Bogie for treating us to breakfast this morning.
Out of the wireless loop for a few days. My camera battery charger has mysteriously died so I apologize for the lack of pictures.
Portland and Eugene were both very good shows. The openers in Eugene were a local Eugene-based group playing music of the Shona people of Zimbabwe for the past 15 years. Their teacher, a Shona, adapted traditional mbira rhythms to a set of marimbas so the music could be naturally amplified and shared with larger groups of people. I have little knowledge of Shona music, but the group sounded very good. The pieces, especially the traditional ones, were overwhelmingly beautiful.
The venue WOW Hall was a beautifully crafted room and used to be the Woodmen of the World Hall. Thanks to Morning Glory for a delicious breakfast.
Portland was hot as well. The March 4th Marching Band played in between sets and rocked! They are a huge punk-rock eclectic marching band (brass, woodwinds, bass, drums) with crazy homemade costumes. They remind me a lot of the Hungry March Band which has a similar approach to the music. Keep it going.
The tour continues to be a blur, with the minutes and the hours running slow while the weeks speed by. Thanks to traffic, the drives seem really long, even between cities that are close by.
We haven't made it to any hot springs, either, unfortunately. The little bits of free time we have have to be used for catching up on the necessities like laundry, sleep, and communications...
Greetings from Oakland! Everybody I know here seems to have a garden, and a living room, which I have never had in New York City. Is that too much to ask?
The shows have been amazing, especially San Francisco with Tunde Williams, the premier trumpeter of Afrobeat music and one of Fela Anikulapo's longtime bandmates from the mid-60s till 1978.
He lives here in the Bay Area and we met him for the first time in June, via Deen Ipaye, a Nigerian of Fela's generation who lives in the Northwest.
Since then, we have performed with him on four occasions and are growing closer each time. Yesterday, we met up at a studio and he recorded some solos for an Antibalas song called "Sare Kon Kon."
It has been amazing to meet up with all of Fela's ex-musicians, but the contact with Tunde has been the deepest because he has been the most lucid of all the musicians, and the one that we have been most able to spend time with over an extended period of time. (Some sort of interview, either online or in print, about his experiences with the Koola Lobitos/Nigeria 70/Afrika 70 is in the works).
The San Fran show was great. The audience definitely has a different vibe than LA audiences. They are more open, and we are able to get to an space of intimacy much quicker than in LA. The audience was a lot whiter this time compared to our performance at Yerba Buena Center in June and at Bimbo's in San Francisco this past July. I wonder why this is, and how the show was promoted. Nevertheless it was diverse and was a wonderful party, but the differences in the audience were very noticeable.
My camera is out of batteries, but as soon as I charge up, there will be some photos.
¿Que mas...? Breakfast is being served.... I'm out for now!
Greetings from sunny Tucson, Arizona. I've been up in the hills outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico and in no big rush to get to a cybercafe, but at the same time need to stay in the practice of writing and journaling, so here goes...
The shows in Colorado were a jam. The altitude didn't affect me as much as I had feared. The air is thinner, but also a lot fresher! The crowds were nice, friendly, and energetic, and also very white. I imagine Colorado is a pretty white state but I am also worried that in a lot of places our shows are only promoted in certain places, to a certain privileged community.
High moment: when the "Cheesecake Lady" came during the set break at our Denver performance and gave us all delicious mind-expanding chocolates and cheesecakes. Some of the band enjoyed them that night. I saved mine for the long ride the next day.
Low moment: Some joker (in our experience it has almost always been white guy that do this) jumps up onstage and starts hittiing the congas. Amayo quickly and tenderly removes him from the stage. If Ernesto was still playing with us, we may have had to call 911.
Why do people do this? Why can't they respect the drum? No one would jump up and start playing my flute or saxophone, nor would they hop behind the drum kit...
Shout outs to: Jessica (The Cheesecake Lady), Dot's Diner, Jordyn and Mei-Mei, Scott from the Motet (a white guy who can play the hell out of the congas), and all the smiling faces...
The Santa Fe show, on the other hand, was very diverse, all across the board. The promoters were Mexicanos and indigenas, and there was a beautiful turnout of many colors ages, and styles of Santa Fe.
Again, a few completely ignorant people made it backstage including a lady who bummed a few cigarettes, a bottle of beer, a slice of pizza, and stepped into my open saxophone case, nearly stepping on the horn itself.
Thanks to Ijah, Kori, Martie, Miles, Mikaela and the Cuyamunque Institute, Michael and Denton for their kindness.
My mom flew out to the show, and we (and the rest of the band) stayed in beautiful adobe buildings at the Cuyamungue Institute on the Pojoaque Pueblo.
It is such a refreshing change to stay in a building made of earth, with little to no artificial materials. Most of the band stayed in the enclosed house where my mother's friend lives, but Damon, Misha, and I slept in cots in the bunkhouse, which had no doors or windows. The air was crisp and delicious. I find that when sleeping outside, or somewhere more indoor/outdoor, I need less sleep to wake up refreshed and energized. It is also easier for me to get up early in the morning.
The next day we went to Ojo Caliente, to the mineral springs there, and cooked a big dinner. Half of the band went to see the Grand Canyon while the rest of us stayed in Santa Fe.
We stopped at some more hot springs in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, just for a little bit. There are springs all over town, mostly on one strip of little motels built around the WPA/ Roosevelt era. We found some cheap ones at the Riverbend Hostel and soaked for a little while while watching the reflection of the sunset on a mountain across the river. I highly prefer this view to that of the New York skyline.
We made it into Tucson last night and are staying at the Congress Hotel, a remnant of the Wild West/railroad era. Someone fixed it up and turned it into a "hip" (notice quotes) spot, but it still has its original look and furniture. The downstairs is a nightclub and last night was 80s night. I went down for a watery 80 cent cocktail and quickly returned to my room to rest, compose some music, and unwind.
Part of the reason why our rooms were so cheap is because they are located right over the nightclub. As such we could hear the booming bass and the street traffic till the wee hours.
But walking around this morning and seeini the down-and-out of Tucson makes me grateful for any roof right now.
Speaking of which, I got an email saying that the Caribbean island of Tortuga (and its 26,000 residents) was completely washed away by Hurricane Jeanne, but I haven't been able to find any confirmation on the "mainstream" news websites. Please let me know of any information.
Every day I wonder if my time is best spent playing this music or if I should be doing superadobe construction for all the people who need places to live. I see a future soon where I will be able to do both with equal time and energy.
until later...
We arrived in the afternoon after an early departure from Lincoln Nebraska. Hmmm...what's new. I did NOT buy an accordion at the pawn shop across the street from the club. I may have a few years ago, but there are only so many instruments that someone can manage at one time. Plus there are only about 2 cubic feet of space left in the van and trailer and 6 weeks to go in the tour.
The day before yesterday we followed the Healthy Highways book to the Center For The Improvement Of Human Functioning, and their $6.50 organic lunch buffet. Little did we know what was in store for us there.
We ate amazingly well and got a full tour of the site, which is a cancer treatment and research laboratory which concentrates on nutrition to strengthen the immune system and kill cancer cells.
I met a woman who has been receiving treatments for breast cancer and has been well for four years. She told me to put my mother in touch with her...I'll keep my fingers crossed. As destiny would have it, I called my mom the next day and she told me she didn't want to do any more chemotherapy. I could sense the fatigue and grogginess over the phone.
Tonight is Boulder, Colorado. It's our first night here, but there are already 130 tickets sold, so that's a decent sign that it will be a good night.
Greetings, from Lawrence, KS. We just did a little horns-and-percussion parade down Massachusetts Ave, the main drag here. Around a hundred people were waiting on the street, apparently for free burritos, and we gave them a little taste of the music.
Austin was great, of course. The Austin City Limits Fest. show went well, but I was hoping for a little bit more diversity in the music. Dirty Dozen Brass Band rocked, the Roots sounded pretty good but I didn't get to catch their whole set. I had to watch it from up in a tree behind the set because my artist pass didn't get me to the "VIP" section by the side of the stage. Go figure.
Afterwards, we went to a pretty wack afterparty thrown by organizers. Wack because half of the band couldn't get it, and wack because a beautiful dancefloor with many willing people was wasted as the celebrity guest DJ insisted on playing a mostly undanceable set.
The night, however, was redeemed as Mimi and I went once again for a late night swim at Barton Springs. Thanks again...
to be continued after the show...
It's 6:40 am and I'm still up from Dallas. After successfully avoiding caffeine for the past three days, I reluctantly drank some Red Bull to keep me awake for the drive back to Austin.
We have to be on the festival grounds at 10 AM to drop some of the equipment off. I got a ride back with some friends and ended up having to drive the last leg...
I am up, physically worn but with the springs of caffeine keeping my eyelids jammed open, I write.
Dallas and Houston are two cities of which I know little about. My perceptions of them have been both as sprawling, noveau-riche Texas cities with large underclass of Mexicanos, African Americans, and immigrants, but imagined nothing beyond that.
Our Friday night show was in Houston, at a small upstairs club called Rudyard's in the Montrose section, a now-gentrified area of the city. It sort of reminded me of LA with lots of lush green foliage...a lot of the houses had big gates or fences around them, making them look more like fortresses than homes.
The cicadas were in affect by dusk, and the whole neighborhood was pulsing to the drone of their songs.
The show was good, pretty well-attended and diverse. Some friends we met at the show brought us to Word of Mouf, a beautiful underground spot in the 3rd Ward. It was as if the Jump N Funk party was held in the backyard of a babalawo somewhere warm. A wonderful familiy vibe, and the music was pumping well beyond 5am when we had to leave to get a few hours sleep. "Zombie" had ended and "JJD" was just kicking in as we were leaving. Love to Baba Alaafia, Felicia, Carmela, Karla, Hahleemah, Kool Emdee and the rest of our new friends. Mucho aché pa Houston!
Several hours of traffic later, we arrive in Dallas, to the Deep Ellum section which is a nightclub district blocks from the downtown area. Grupo Fantasma and Echo Bass Sound System made the trip up for the show. I didn't get a chance to hang as we loaded up the trailer and headed back to Austin (3.5 hrs) right after the show.
Today is the Austin City Limits Festival, going on all day. I am hoping to check the Roots set this afternoon before we go on. The last time I saw them was when we played at Bonnaroo 2003 and they were great. It is great to see a band you grow up with evolve over the years.
Marcos, Mimi, Beto, and I went to a swimming hole in Austin the other night, hopped the fence, and went for a magical late night swim, in a spring that passes through limestone before emptying into the lower Colorado River.
It was magical, and thanks my guardian angels for keeping the police away.
Besides, we were just having a good time!
do fans and friends bring you moonshine (made in the next county over), and vegetarian food.
thanks to rob for the mason jar of moonshine. i had but a few sips, just enough to scorch my insides!
I'm not sure who brought the rice and lentils and salad, and the cassava tamales in banana leaf, but thank you! I wish I had found the hot sauce before I finished my plate of rice.
today is rehearsal and hanging out with Megan and Brandon, friends of colin's who have printing presses and print books. It is called Bluebarnhouse.. I also met John Murphy, who is responsible for Stupid Creatures. They fed us very well and let us rehearse some new material in their living room while friends dropped by all day long to listen and drink beer out on the porch. Ah, a sunday in Asheville.
the town's water mains broke after heavy hurricane rains the past few days, so all the water is brown.
will this problem be more commonplace in the future?
