6.8.07

Metronomy Tour Diary (August 3, 2007)

metronomy tour diary
03.08.2007

Today’s weather in New York City: A sunny start, growing cloudy later, south-westerly breeze picking up in the afternoon. Stormy from mid-evening.

Midday temperature 97F, relative humidity 77%

In a word: Sultry

Last night’s sleep was fitful – sharing a room with Stephen, he and I found ourselves locked in a war of attrition over the electric fan, the only source of comfort in our AC-less, windowless hotel room. With the fan off I couldn’t sleep, as the room quickly became a pitiless furnace, and with it on Stephen couldn’t sleep because of the rattling noise it made. Very few words were exchanged but the artist/manager relationship was, I believe, tested to its limits. It was our Cuban Missile Crisis, with me the steely JFK to Stephen’s bristling Krushchev. By morning an uneasy kind of peace had been re-established, thank God.

After an eary afternoon in Williamsburg we were met by our tour manager, Rachel, who arrived at the wheel of our new home: a well-appointed red Ford van. We took off for Hartford, Connecticut: Sweet Janes was waiting. With a name like that we knew what to expect – we’d be playing the first show of our first US tour in a dimly-lit, underground dive, walls yellow with the smoke of a million Lucky Strikes.

Instead we found ourselves sound checking in front of an enthusiastic party of diners, three screens of baseball behind the bar at the back of the room, and choosing our supper from a laminated menu (the salads, it must be said, were pretty good). Still, I reckon we pulled it our of the bag: the 30 or so folks who chose us over the block party round the corner had an evening they won’t forget in a hurry. We even held a dancing competition. Hell yeah.

The drive back to Rachel’s house in Newark was framed by a jaw-dropping, enormous electrical storm above NYC, and after a good nights’ sleep we awoke to cherry tomatoes freshly picked from her back garden. A good start. Next stop, Washington DC. Condi here we come.

--Gabriel

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