Anyhow, Veronica was kind enough to send me some images from the Elbow show that her friend, Gary Copeland, managed to get quickly and unobtrusively. Here are a few of them for your viewing pleasure.

Guy Garvey with a halo. Cool.

This is exactly where I was standing - just below Pete Turner. He is AWESOME.

This one is my favorite though. I LOVE this shot:

Thanks Veronica and Gary!

I used to really love the road. It didn’t matter whether for work or pleasure – I just loved it. All the new places, new experiences, even if they were kind of boring… but I don’t really love this any more. I feel a sort of melancholy when I am not in Ocean Beach, not at home. Unless I am in, like, Paris or something.

I spent this week in Las Vegas, the third time I have been there this year. I use to love Vegas. I mean, I LOVED it there. I loved the desert heat and the endless nights and the bizarre unreality of it all. I love drinking and gambling – I did then and I still do. But I don’t like Vegas too much anymore. I’m an old timer who can’t handle change, I guess.

Paying $100 for a wine that should cost $50 just pisses me off. Even if it is not my money. Someone has got to pay for all that construction, I guess.

The sun goes down while I sit in my high-rise room, and it is beautiful. That desert sunset kills me every time. But then it is 4:00 A.M. and I am playing blackjack where country music is playing really loudly. I hate the music but I am winning. The guy next to me is singing, but he is a happy sort and there are high-fives whenever either of us gets a blackjack. The couple next from me is from L.A. She wears a lot of makeup and we whoo hoo loudly, obnoxiously, a few times, mocking the table next to us. I can't stop humming Jeff Tweedy's lyric from "A Shot in the Arm" -

"What you once were isn't what you want to be anymore."

It suddenly occurs to me, that I am not really enjoying this. What am I doing here, anyway? It’s freeking 4:30 A.M. All the things I once loved, I don’t love now. I am in a spiritual quandary. Everything seems empty, and has for some time.

The next day, way too early, tired and lonely and sick from too many hotel rooms and too many rich meals, I drive to Hollywood, because I want to go to see Elbow, one of my favorite bands. That drive, while quite beautiful in it’s Mohave-eqseness, it absolutely fucking horrifying when you are tired and hungover and having a spiritual breakdown. I mean, it truly sucks. What else is there to do but think for hours and hours? It is the desert, hours and hours and hours of it. Heat and dust and ears clogged by descending mountains that don’t seem to be there.

Thank the gods for Hollywood and my friends Kathy and Marcia and David, and for the bottle of red wine I immediately opened upon arrival. Fueled by lasagna and Refosco, I was ready, at least in theory, for the show.

I got to the Avalon right at 8:00 when openers Air Traffic went on. I won’t say too much about them because I still feel bad about writing about the last opener Elbow had, and one of the members of that band read my blog and commented. I am not a critic, so I am not going to say anything. Let’s just leave it at I Was Waiting for Elbow.

It was an incredible show that totally changed everything back to the way it should be. Elbow came out and played the first song from the new record, "Starlings" (as I pretty much knew they would) and pretty much the whole band was up with a horn… I can’t really explain it, so check this out.

There were two songs I really wanted to hear from their new record, “Mirrorball” and “The Loneliness Of A Tower Crane Driver.” Well, they played both of them and let me tell you, these two songs are among the most stunningly beautiful songs I have ever heard. Live, they pretty much slayed me. The rest of the show was alternately jaw-droppingly lovely and totally rocking – on some songs, I almost put my boot heel through the floorboards. I was so happy. I can’t remember the last time I was so truly and completely happy. Looking around at the rest of the audience, everyone was happy. The band was happy. It occurred to me, gradually and then suddenly, that THIS is what makes me happy. Fuck Vegas, fuck the road, fuck the long drives. I’m here, now, watching this amazing band and everyone is happy. And there is fake smoke and a disco ball. I am in love again. Everyone in the building sings "throw those curtains wide - a day like this a year'd see me right." Yes, it is true.

Of course, not every show has this effect, and not every audience is so into it, and not every band comes on and plays a perfect show. But when it all happens, it is the best thing ever.

There is a footnote to this perfect night – I was going to try to meet another music freak there, Elizabeth, who I collaborated with to get Radiohead tickets for their August tour here (basically by staying up all night hitting refresh on our computers.) At 6:00 AM when the tickets finally went on sale, she got three shows and I only got one before the Radiohead server crashed. So, I feel sort of indebted to her.

Anyhow, she had emailed me and told me that she really wanted a set list, because she LOVES Elbow, and that is sort of how I know her in the first place. So during the show I was standing next to a bunch of Elbow’s crew, and right before the encore I asked one of the guys if he could get a set list for my friend. I should admit here that I told a bit of a white lie – I said it was for my friend who was not there, but she WAS there, I just had not found her yet. It just sort of came out that way, I truly did not mean to lie. So the guy tried to get me one after the show, but other crew members were faster and the curtain came down and then I saw him with a cigarette so I figured it was a no go.

Went and found Elizabeth at the sound booth and we walked out, and we were at the door in a big crush of people, I mean ON OUR WAY OUT when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the crew guy, and he handed me a set list. He had come out and found me! It was an amazing thing to do.

So, crew guy, if you ever read this, you are a PRINCE and you did something that neither Elizabeth or I will ever forget. THANK YOU.

I drove home Saturday morning from Hollywood playing The Seldom Seen Kid and when Mirrorball came on I broke out into tears. It brought out every lonely moment and every purging of those moments; it brought out everything. And it felt good to cry.

I'm half way there.

There aren't too many bands that can bring you back to a time and place, but Portishead brings me straight back to 1995, when their first record Dummy was pretty much on my CD player 24/7. I still listen to it at least once a month - it is one of the Best Records Ever.

Portishead kind of disappeared for a long time but now they are back with another truly incredible record - called "Third." While it will never be "Dummy" to me, it is a pretty incredible record. So now I am waiting. In the meantime, I have youtube.

The crazy thing - I am going to see Britt Daniel do a solo show at the Belly Up tomorrow night, and I am not even freaking out. It totally sucks, not being in love, but on the other hand I'll get some sleep.

More about that later. I am staying at a cool, funky hostel with private rooms called the Pirate Haus. My room has one big bed and four bunks. The owner, Conrad, is a really cool guy who offers up wine, grappa and cognac, and last night we watched the City of Lost Children in the living room. They also have Bravo, so I get to watch Top Chef tonight! Unless someone else beats me to the remote.

I don't really care about going out too much here - I like sitting on the roof deck (it sounds a lot more glamorous than it is, but it is perfect for me at this moment) with a glass of wine and a book, totally alone but with the sounds and smells of the other guests cooking on the other side of the kitchen window.

I feel comfortable at the Pirate Haus. I would definitely come back here, and could even bring friends since there are five beds in the room. At night it cools down and I open the window in my room all the way and listen to music on my little speakers. The night air here is sultry.

Tomorrow I head to Savannah for the Big Slowtrav Gathering, where I will see a bunch of my friends, and see another new place. I will try to check in from there.

I love E.

It's like I was telling Bob & Margaret the other night, over some really great pizzas and quite a few glasses of wine, that I hadn't quite crossed the threshold of understanding the essence of DC yet. I was still waiting for the epiphany, that moment when everything becomes awesome. Now, it is all about the epiphany. They keep asking me if it has happened yet.

Two days ago, I went to the National Portrait Gallery and Museum of American Art, and walked around Chinatown, and met some Slowtrav Peeps at Dino. I had this thought that I could go to TWO museums in one day, and voila, there are two museums in one building, and it was massive and took many hours and I did not even see everything there. It was a really great day and I managed to pack a lot in and also realized that one would need many months, if not years, to see all this stuff.

Yesterday the housecleaner came so I had to get out of here at 8:30, even before the museums opened. I went to Union Station and ate a corn muffin and watched all the commuters. That station is so cool. Yet, the epiphany eluded me.

I headed down to the National Gallery of Art and got there right when they opened. I was there for FOUR HOURS and I did not even make it through the whole thing - not even close. I was totally blown away - they have an incredible collection of Renaissance art there, not only from Italy but also Germany and the Netherlands and I love all that stuff. I was especially touched by the painting "Adoration of the Shepards" by Giorgione. The colors, the landscape, the torn clothing of the shepards... it's a remarkable piece. And nobody was even looking at it, they were all in the room with Leonardo's Ginevra.

So I guess at this point I was very close, because it dawned on me that if you lived in DC, you could go to the Natonal Gallery every day, even just to look at one painting. You could go in and look at a German painting with detailed depictions of life 500 years ago, for an hour or two, whenever you want. Because it is free!

After that I met up with Bob & Margaret and we walked up to Georgetown and had some oysters and welsh rarebit at the tavern where JFK proposed to Jackie O. But we wanted some better wine, so I looked in my DK book and found a wine bar in Georgetown called "Bistrot Lepic." We had to walk up a hill, and I will admit I am very sore from all this walking, but the call of wine kept me/us going, to what seemed to be out of Georgetown, even. When we got to the bar, there was a blue door and a Parisian street sign. I wondered if they went to Paris and stole it, because it looked pretty damn real.

In the door, up those stairs, was where I finally had my epiphany.

Bistrot Lepic is AWESOME. If I lived in DC, I would want to go there all the time. THAT is where people should get proposed to. It's a room that envelops you, with mood music, what looked to be comfy wicker chairs (we sat at the bar, which was very, very comfy, so I am assuming the chairs were the same) and gold curtains that moved in the breeze. In the back, there was a long table to seat twenty with cherry trees outside. We drank Burgundies (both white and red) and Rhones, and the sweet Bartendress Lucia poured us a little taste of a really good Languedoc. We ate country pate with an Armagnac soaked prune in the middle. I totally fell in love with the place. I am totally in love with it. We needed bread for our pasta dinner at home, so Lucia sent us out with an long loaf of French bread. She rocks.

Any city that could have such a cool wine bar, is, in my mind, a great city. There it is - the epiphany. Long in coming but now that it is here I plan to make the most of it.

Today we are off to the Cherry Blossom festival and more wandering, and tonight we are going to see EELS at a synagogue. Bob read my blog entry about this show and he is giving me a little bit of shit about the "movie" but I keep telling him that he will love it, especially because he is a scientist. As for me, I couldn't pass up the chance to see E again...

Onward.

Right now the park is devoid of greenery and I desperately want to be here when it erupts into Spring. But, with only five days I don't think that will happen.

Yesterday, on my own, I must have walked about fifteen miles (and, unfortunately, I am totally feeling that today - in my calves, my hips, pretty much everywhere.) I got off the subway at the Mall along with about five hundred school kids and their chaparones and parents. Thankfully, the Mall is pretty enormous. I wanted to go to the American History Museum, but it is closed for renovations or something. So I just walked, to the Washington Monument, all the war monuments, the Lincoln monument. Everything looked really close on the map! The sun was out, and it was very warm, and if there is one thing I have learned in my travels it is: If the sun is out, utilize it. So I kept walking. And another thing, I couldn't get that image of Twyla Tharp's dancers writhing in front of the Washington Monument in the film version of "Hair" out of my mind, or the lyrics to the song they were dancing to:

Prisoners in Niggertown
It's a dirty little war
Three Five Zero Zero
Take weapons up and begin to kill
Watch the long long armies drifting home

I'm not trying to make any kind of statement here, except that I am the kind of person who can't get lyrics out of their head.

In all my reading about this city I have come to be pretty interested in Pierre L'Enfant, the architect who laid out the plans for this city - basically, he had this grand plan to design a European style city in a swamp. I think he was kind of a pain and he eventually got fired, but this vision, and how it actually worked out, is very intriguing to me. So, I decided to go check out L'Enfant Plaza, which I was sure would be a really cool square with cafes and restaurants around it. Not. They need to make it grander, to reflect L'Enfant's contribution to this city. It's a 1970's business park.

I got on the subway there and headed to the Eastern Market, because I love markets, and this one was pretty cool but not in the original building because I guess that one had a fire and they are restoring it (I think I need more current guidebooks.) Instead they have the market across the street in a big tent. Lots of butchers, cheese shop, etc. but it was freaking hot in there and it is only March.

On the way, this couple sat down next to me and when we got to the stop before Eastern Market, they asked each other "is this L'Enfant?" So I said, are you going to L'Enfant station? 'Cause that's the other way. They looked at me like I was trying to put one over on them. I repeated it. You are going the wrong way. I just came from there. They got out their map. So much for trying to be helpful. Keep going then, homies.

After the market, I walked and walked... through the Capitol Hill area which has some really cute houses, and a nice vibe, then to the Library of Congress and to Union Station. Union Station is awesome! I love old train stations, and this one has all kinds of shops and restaurants. I stopped at one and had a glass of wine and half an avocado with crab on top. It was just OK, but I really like it in there.

Now I was pretty tired of walking so I took the metro to Dupont Circle and, uh, walked around. Toyed with the idea of going to a bar that my friend Sue recommended called the Fox and Hounds, but arriving there it looked like more of a nighttime place so I kept walking and eventually came back to Cleveland Park and a nice glass of Pinot on the porch.

Last night we ate at the famous Dino and it was really, really good... fantastic fried artichokes, some killer halibut, great pasta with wild boar sauce.. Dean himself told us what to eat and it was all spot on. Had some good Nebbiolos, too.

Woke up to rain, and it looks pretty wet, so I'm off to the National Gallery of Art.

I think not.

Yeah. You might be wondering what this is all about, what with the physics and everything, something that, I would add and you would agree with, I have no idea about and also, would never talk about. So what gives?

What gives is, this was part of a ONE HOUR documentary played before the Eels show in Santa Ana I went to last night. ONE HOUR. One fucking hour. I thought I would die for a minute (actually about 30 minutes) there.

Don't get me wrong - had I been prepared for it, I would have handled it with all the grace and aplomb that goes with being a real and true fan. But I wasn't, and I had my head craned at an unnatural angle looking up at a scrim 5 inches in front of me for way too long. Everyone else in the pit suffered the same fate. It went on forever and it sucked royally. Why didn't you move? You ask... well, who knew it would go on so long? I did not want to give up my spot on the rail (but I did, because I needed another vodka after about 45 minutes.)

So when E finally went on, I was a bit pissy and also in that semi-drunk state where I wondered how he could do this to me, to us? Mostly I was drunk because that movie was so long I drank way too fast. Fucking E.

But then, of course, he was on stage playing and I loved him. I LOVE him. It is hard not to, even though he had his cohort Chet read spoken word vignettes about his life onstage, which from any other person/band would seem so, I dunno, trite and lame, unless maybe it was Yo La Tengo or something.

In my advancing years, I've become a bit jaded, and when a musician in the course of three hours makes me want to cry, hurl something at his head, get drunk, stay sober, and then want more, I know I have seen and heard something great. And Mark "E" Everett does this to me. I love him, but I hate him; I never, ever want to have a day when I can't hear him.

So last night? After the movie and about eighteen vodkas, E went on and started out slow and beautiful, but eventually "The Chet" joined him and it became awfully jammin' just with the two guys. E went on drums for a while and acted like he didn't know what he was doing but then busted out some kickass drumming. Manipulator! I hate you! I love you!

Mostly, though, I love Mark "E" Everett. And I would never miss an opportunity to see him - though now, I will know about the documentary, and will prepare accordingly. Because it is a pretty cool and interesting hour, one that I'd like to see from a proper distance sometime.

Thanks to Sue for pointing this out for me - and this looks to be sort of an insane week, Radiohead wise. So stay tuned.

Discovering Thailand

I didn't start traveling overseas until I was 33 years old and I always go to Europe. I need to check out some other places, like Thailand and Indonesia.

And Eddie - if you read this - thank you for the picture of Paris, and can't wait to check out pictures from this trip!

I have to say... or confess, whatever... that I cried through most of the first showing. Whatever stuff I've been holding in since March 27 came out last night between about 9:15 and 9:45. I love this band so much that I couldn't even control myself. Thank all the gods here and in the universe for Radiohead.

There was another showing at 10:00 and I made it through that one OK, and I am listening to it right now, because it's on current.com. Don't know for how long, but I'd advise everyone who reads this to try to check it out. I was, am, totally blown away by it. This pretty much says it all:

As for my party? Got lots of food, lots of wine, and lots of good friends coming. Should be a good day, one with no tears.

I have big plans though, it's either write in this blog or get rid of it. And I guess I have a lot of readers I didn't know I had (thanks for letting me know, Judy.)

But for now, I just have to let you all in on some of last months Google Searches that Lead Here, because some of them are too funny.

Besides "Britt Daniel Girlfriend" and "Britt Daniel Gay" (he's not gay, I can assure you - either that or he puts up a mighty good front):

photo of what a walmart cashier looks like
what makes life exciting
stars with hairy backs
naked english couples
c. k. dexter haven and tracy lord deserve each other
shoelicking slave
still a virgin losers nerds
rick steves penis

I guess it was the last one that prompted me to post this - why on earth would anyone care?

I wrote about the last show, and I am wondering, what the hell happened since then? Why don't I write like this anymore? Why don't I hear weird conversations on the bus? Has my world become smaller, or do I just notice less? Anyway.

Last night I took the bus and there were no weirdos on it, and met Mark at the Waterfront bar and there were no weirdos there, either, though there were mass quantities of uber-normal people. Eventually we got to the Casbah where I secured my spot right next to the stage, and finally there were some weirdos - a super drunk and possibly on something else couple who cleared the entire floor with their random acts of dancing and flailing cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon. This couple, thankfully, only made it through the opening act. There was a Walkmen uber-fan standing next to us (Amber? Heather?) who had come from someplace far away to go to the California shows, but heck if I remember where from.

I wish I was going to all the California shows, because the Walkmen came on at 11:30 and proceeded to totally blow me away. They were SO GOOD. I remember the last show, and how I thought it was good but not great, but since then I have thought many times about that show, and about all five of the guys and how they played because each of them is very good and also, interesting to watch. I love Spoon the band, but it's not like I ever take my eyes off Britt Daniel too much. With the Walkmen, I want to watch all of them, all the time.

It is a bit difficult to take ones eyes off singer Hamilton Leithauser though. Somewhere along the way, this guy acquired a healthy dose of star power or charisma or whatever you want to call it. Either that or he had it all along and I just didn't notice before. Or maybe, I was so wrapped up in my obsession with Britt Daniel that I couldn't see anything else. Anyway. He is intense, he snarls and screams, he tears the place up. During the song "No Christmas While I'm Talking" he blew the first half of the song apart, then left the stage, and came back and blew it apart again without missing a beat. Amber/Heather and I looked at each other, stunned. It was an incredible moment.

They played a lot of new songs and now I can't wait for their new record to come out.

On the way home I tried to hail a cab but it was taken, but the dude in the back said get in, he can drop me then you. He was a doctor and he was wearing a turban. I wonder if you took his turban off, would his hair all fall down his back like that dude in the English Patient?

This video is a fine example of Hamilton Leithauser's intense stage persona. Awesome.

And the photo I fell in love with when I wrote about the Walkmen before.

I will never miss a Walkmen show after that. Never, never, never. My ears are ringing and my thighs are sore from pressing them into the amp, and I have a hangover and a memory. Good times.