New Mexico; and Back Home

Wow.

Seated in Winning's Coffeeshop, Albuquerque, NM; played my final show of the tour last night. Well, I'm playing at Cafe Ole tonight, to wrap things up; but last night was the last road show. But first, a recap of the final days in Boulder, and then the show in Taos.

Monday May 3rd I had a day off, to just hang out; the weather proved to be awesome, so I decided to go for a hike. Turns out Johnny Wonder lives there, hadn't known; but we ended up joining forces for a trek into the wilderness. Well, up the mountains next to Boulder, anyway.

I hadn't seen Johnny in a couple years; he had been part of the Flagstaff music scene in the early aughts, like so many of us. Actually, the first time I went to the Charly's open mic in September of 00, I saw him play. He did his parody of "La Bamba", called "Vagina", which blew my mind and brought the house down.

Anyway, up to Royal Arch, which is pretty incredible; you can walk through it, and the view on the other side is pretty much breathtaking. It was nice to get out and hike after so damn much time in the car, though I was feeling having spent three weeks doin nothing but play, drive, and eat. The hike is about 6 miles round trip, with a 1500 foot ascent/descent, which is fairly intense, especially after a long stretch of leisure and laziness. Felt great.

Headed out next day at around noon; met Seth for lunch at a crepe place in downtown Golden, pretty schnazzy. It was windy as hell, which would prove to be a royal pain during the drive; I was fighting the wheel the whole time, 60 mph gusts just slamming in the rectangular profile of the Volvo. I arrived in Taos about an hour before the show, basically enough time to change clothes and head on down there.

Shadows was a sports bar. No other way to describe it. Flatscreen TVs, a video projector, the whole bit. However, it also had a pretty sweet, funky feel; and it turned out they turned all the TVs off except for two behind the bar when I started playing. That was good, since the stage was literally right next to the projector screen.

I got some curious looks as I set up; but once I started playing, people were fairly indifferent (as will happen sometimes.) I've found that, when you start playing at a restaurant, the people who were there before you started setting up are the toughest to win over. They already had a groove going without your sorry musical ass interrupting, and they aren't really interested. So be it. I did manage to garner some applause, which was fine; but I was mostly feeling tired from the 5 hour drive combating the wind. The second set I felt better, looser, and sunk into a groove; there weren't so many people there, but they were enthusiastic, which was nice. A bit of a letdown after the Boulder show, but you'll have that; and frankly, it's good to be reminded that not everyone thinks your the shit, that in fact most people don't and won't. It's always enough just to reach a couple of people, and sometimes those couple of people happen to all be in the same place, and you get a rocking good crowd like the one in Boulder. Taos was the other end of the spectrum, but not totally; there were a good handful of people there enjoying themselves, and they made sure to let me know. At the end of the night the bartender tipped me close to ten bucks, which she didn't have to do at all; I had tipped her $5, for bringing me my dinner and supplying me with coffee and water, but I always do that, and feel like it's the right thing to do. She just returned the favor, and wouldn't take no for an answer.

I was pretty much exhausted after the gig; playing to a mostly indifferent and/or empty room is much more tiring than playing a full, enthusiastic place, and I was already beat. Slept well, got up early, and on the road to Albuquerque.

The road between Taos and Santa Fe is gorgeous. Winding between the delicately curved, green hills of northern New Mexico, I am almost instantly brought back to the delicate, pseudo-philosophical frame of mind I achieved while studying at Saint John's College in Santa Fe. It's always refreshing.

Along the way I stopped at the former site of El Quinto Sol, a bar I used to go to in the late 90s to see Thamusemeant and Apricot Jam. It had been shut down for five years, and had been turned into a restaurant before that. It made me sad to see. There were people doing some work on it, getting it ready for some folks who would be renting it as a residence for - get this - $850 a month. They'd be doing some work, too, but still that's a ridiculously smokin deal for such a space. I couldn't help think about the house show possibilities in such a place. Anyway, they let me in and I took a picture of the stage, then went on my way.

Santa Fe was as a I remembered it; I ate lunch at Horseman's Haven, home of the hottest food I've ever had in my life. They have a Saint John's College sticker on the cooler by the counter, and I combated many a hangover by eating there back in the day whilst going to SJC. I bought a pint of the level 2 green chili, with which I will make some green chili stew, and afflict everyone I know who will let me with it. It lays the most ardent lover of hot food low; I'm usually the only one I know who can eat the stew, which pretty much ensures I don't have to share. Afterward I stopped at a thrift store to shop for a hat, as I had misplaced my Old Time Hockey one (I later found it in the car, under some stuff).

After the trip to the thriftstore I went up to SJC, to reminisce and to hike up Monte Sol, which is right next to campus, and is a beautiful, short steep hike. In my brief sojourn through campus I ran into Matt Johnston, who had been my RA my senior year. He was the Res Life director, and had helped organize a blood drive. I didn't recognize him, he had grown a rather respectably scruffy beard, and walked right past him; then he said, "what's up Matt Miller?" and thus we started talking. I gave him CDs, and promised to talk about him at the show coming up for Reality (I'll be playing with Annie Jump Cannon on the 15th of May; Reality is a three-day party that the Sophomore class organizes every year at SJC, and while I won't be drinking of course, I will be there to get down). I still remember that we didn't even see him in the dorm for the first week and a half of senior year. Pretty funny.

Then it was off to Albuquerque, where I would play at the St Clair Bistro. They have a great patio, which is covered, but which was nevertheless really warm. I set up in my hiking clothes, which made me seem rather more scruffy than I would when I played. It amused me to think that I would look like a roadie while I was setting up, then would look like a somewhat more well-dressed performer once I got on stage. The place was just down the street from what used to be the Sheraton Old Town, where I had worked waiting tables in the summer of 95. I can't remember what the place was called, but I do remember being required to purchase and wear white tuxedo shirts and a silver bolo tie. Wish I still had the tie; I sold it at the yard sale I held when I left Santa Fe after college.

Anyway, just as I was finishing getting set up, Jared from Le Chat Lunatique walked up. One of the best bands in Albuquerque, I had played shows with them with Phantom Vibration, and always made the effort to keep in touch. As the man said, a swell buncha guys, really humble and cool for, which quite remarkable considering what a phenomenal band they are. Jared had basically gotten me the gig, as he told me I could drop their name while I was contacting the booker. He stuck around through a good portion of the first set, when people were still acting like there wasn't a musician there apart from a few bits of scattered applause. (cf my earlier note about starting to play in a restaurant, and the people who are already there). I took a break after a fairly short set, just 40 minutes, and resolved to drink coffee and water until the sun finished going behind the neighboring building. It was windy, and pretty damned warm.

While I was on setbreak Muni (pronounced "moonie"), another member of Le Chat, turned up and sat down with me. He's the most social of the members of the band, and it was no surprise that he knew a girl who worked there. He and I talked for a bit, I told him a bit about the tour, then it was time for me to get back on stage and play some more. I gave Muni the camera to take a couple pictures while I played. The crowd had filled out a bit, but was still fairly non-responsive until the last half of the set; I took a break at 8, got more coffee and water, then went back on to finish up.

By the start of my last set the sun had gone completely down, thus cooling things off considerably. Two older ladies sat down as I was playing the first song, and proved to be enthusiastic listeners and participants; sometimes that's all it takes to make everyone else feel more comfortable, and from that point on I could comfortably engage the crowd, and got rounds of applause after every song. People just aren't sure what the protocol is for a solo artist, sometimes; that, coupled with a natural tendency for most people to display a not inconsiderable indifference, leads to awkward silence after songs a lot of the time. That spell was broken, though, and people were even comfortable with me talking to them between songs, which also requires that they relax quite a bit. It turned out that she was a music teacher, and had a grandson who played guitar and wrote songs, too. She said she was the one who supported him, and bought him instruments, and encouraged him to play and be happy rather than to seek for wealth or fame. She bought both of my CDs, and I gave her two Songwalk CDs, as well.

A bit into the last set, Rowan Lange and her girlfriend walked into the place and sat down. I had sent her an email about the show; she went to SJC too, and we had had senior lab together. I had last seen her in Tucson, when I went to the Dust Devil - the southwestern regional rollerderby championships. She had wowed the crowd by body-checking Deadlock Doe off the track; Doe worked a jackhammer, she was an unstoppable force, and Ro (Death Ro, as she is known on the flat-track) had knocked her the fuck over. I should mention that Rowan is a shade over five feet, and weighs a bit over 100 pounds. The crowd exploded, and it is my most distinct memory of the whole event. She and I hadn't had much time to chat then, but it was great to see her at the show, and to shoot the shit. One of the neatest things about being on the road is catching up with old friends.

And that was the tour; the last show was more or less the whole in microcosm, with some indifference, some friends, and some enthsiastic, friendly strangers. And now, back to the car to see if I have a ticket for overstaying my parking meter; and to drive back to Flagstaff, where I'll play at Cafe Ole tonight, and then sleep like a pile of rocks. I had a great time; but it'll be great to be home, and to be able to get started on a number of other projects I have in mind - like booking the next tour, in September. Until then.