Errors-To: admin at elephant-talk dot com Reply-To: newsletter at elephant-talk dot com Sender: newsletter at elephant-talk dot com Precedence: bulk From: newsletter at elephant-talk dot com To: newsletter at elephant-talk dot com Subject: Elephant Talk #559 E L E P H A N T T A L K The Internet newsletter for Robert Fripp and King Crimson enthusiasts Number 559 Sunday, 6 December 1998 Today's Topics: Sid Smith's Road Diary ------------------ A D M I N I S T R I V I A --------------------- POSTS: Please send all posts to newsletter at elephant-talk dot com To UNSUBSCRIBE, or to CHANGE ADDRESS: Send a message with a body of HELP to admin at elephant-talk dot com or use the DIY list machine at http://www.elephant-talk.com/list/ To ASK FOR HELP about your ET subscription: Send a message to: help at elephant-talk dot com ET Web: http://www.elephant-talk.com/ Read the ET FAQ before you post a question at http://www.elephant-talk.com/faq.htm Current TOUR DATES info can always be found at http://www.elephant-talk.com/gigs/tourdates.htm You can read the most recent seven editions of ET at http://www.elephant-talk.com/newsletter.htm THE ET TEAM: Toby Howard (Moderator), Dan Kirkdorffer (Webmaster) Mike Dickson (List Admin), and a cast of thousands. The views expressed herein are those of the individual authors. ET is produced using John Relph's Digest system v3.5b (relph at sgi dot com). ------------------ A I V I R T S I N I M D A --------------------- Date: Sat, 5 Dec 1998 23:56:32 GMT From: Toby Howard Subject: Sid Smith's Road Diary Hi everyone. This is a special edition of ET, given over to Sid Smith's Road Diary. Sid went on the road with ProjeKct Four, as the "point-of-sale" manager, and he kept a diary of his experiences. ET is privileged to publish Sid's diary, and we're sure you'll enjoy it. Many thanks to Sid for his kindness in sharing his experiences with us. Cheers Toby ================================================================ Confessions of a Merchandise Man: On the Road With ProjeKct Four by Sid Smith ================================================================ When I told my pal Chris Taberham, that I was going to the States with ProjeKct Four he was immediately gripped with a fevered excitement. "Great! That means you can pick up a copy of the Partridge Family's Christmas album for me. It's just been re-released in the States and you'll be able to get it dead cheap. " And with Mr. Taberham's almost perverse request ringing in my ears I ship out to London en route for the USA and ten days of pain, tears torment, laughter and salad - though not necessarily in that order. Now, read on for sordid tales of chiropracters, coffee, butt cleavage and bookshops, racoons, prostitutes and the truth about what Tony Levin actually said to the Belly Dancer. ******************************** * 21 October 1998 * Newcastle / Highgate UK I catch the 16.25 Newcastle to King Cross and travel the 350 miles to Kimber HQ. Located in leafy Highgate, Kimber HQ is the home of cuddly John Kimber. I've known John since the Epitaph playback in March 1997 where we got on like a house on fire. Since that time, his spare futon has had some considerable supine fat bastard action given my increasingly frequent visits to London. Over a pleasant meal at Bengal Berties, Kimber and I reflect that since the Epitaph play back in March 1997, we've had between us a 100 % track record in attending KC / RF related events such as playbacks, in-store appearances, Guitar Craft, etc. Sad or mad or both ? Given my impending flight to join P4 on their tour of the State, Kimberman went off and got himself a flight out to catch the two P4 shows at Boulder. Even before I could say "guest list" he went and got himself tickets for each show. As you might imagine we were both in a mood to celebrate that night. Being good and loyal anoraks, we dissected the new DGM sampler and the Marquee release. Both of us agree that Trees on the CC release provides an interesting indication of what might have happened on the second KC album had the original line up had stayed together. ******************************** * 22 October 1998 * Heathrow I say bye to Kimber as the taxi whisks me to Heathrow. With a song in my heart and a spring in my step I get checked in and find my seat. An elderly lady struggles to put her hand luggage in the overhead bin. I offer to help. She smiles sweetly as I lift the wheelie up for her. As I do so, I realise to my horror that she's carrying her Charles Atlas hand weights and dumb bells in the luggage. Flashbulbs pop behind my eyes and I feel my lower back on the left hand side snap and sag in excruciating protest. I sink to my seat and spend the next 9 hours of the flight in complete and utter agony with extreme back pain. Thus begins my ten days of torment and tears. Very bumpy and choppy across the Atlantic. I try reading but cannot concentrate. I settle for a pain - killer and a Harrison Ford movie. The latter possibly counteracts the beneficial effects of the former. ******************************** * 22 / 23 October * Washington Airport / Denver / Boulder The flight was hell and I think I only managed to sleep for an hour or so. Caught my first sight of the States as the plane turned into its descent pattern. Huge swathes of green, brown and rusting trees. Geometric patterns in the fields. Quite beautiful. As I get to my gate I'm limping so badly that people are staring at me. The limp is so extravagant that they must think I'm a method actor preparing for an off Broadway production of The Fat Bastard Of Notre Dame. I fear the P4 crew will want to send me packing once they see how useless I am. Not that they are a cold and callous lot. It's just that I'm supposed to be out here being a roadie. Traditionally, to me, that means lifting large items of sound equipment, going "one, two" a lot and displaying a generous amount of sweaty butt cleavage. With my back pain the way it is I'll just have to settle for the last of those three vital tasks. I doze from Denver to Boulder and eventually meet up with [road-crew member] Robert Frazza with whom I'm rooming with for the duration of the tour. I sink gratefully into oblivion. ******************************** * 23 October 1998 * Boulder Beautiful fresh air. Superb skies. Have breakfast with Tony Levin and Robert Frazza. We exchange bad back stories. Tony tells the story of how he dragged Jerry Marrota up and down Harley Street in London in search of relief for Marotta's poorly back on a Peter Gabriel tour. Shortly after Frazza gets me to a chiropractor who relieves me of some of the pain and also relieves me of $120. However, the loss of pain (no matter how temporary) is worth the loss to my bank balance. The get in at the Fox Theatre seems long and slow as I can't really do much but hang around. John Sinks, Chris Murphy and Robert Frazza along with the Fox road crew get everything in place and slowly but surely all the hard ware comes together. Pat Mastelotto is also there at the load in to put together the jigsaw of pretzels that somehow become a set of V Drums. I wave pathetically to RF & TG as they arrive and I hobble a bit so as to explain why I'm spending this time sitting on my arse when all around me are working theirs off. In no time at all, the four musicians tune up and start bumping, thumping, tapping and all sorts of knob twiddling. Some of the sounds emanating from the PA even sounds like music. The merchandise table will be sparse with only Space Groove, Sometimes God Smiles, Gates Of Paradise, Third Star and BLUE. Sadly, no T-shirts, no Live Groove and no P1. I know that I'm going to get a lot of questions about these items. In fact, most people ask either a) is there a new P4 album out ? and b) who the hell is in P4 anyway ? Meanwhile at the front house the Kimbermeister arrives and sets about quaffing the local micro-brew. RF comes out and greets us having last seen us both at the GC Level One in Alfeld in August. He's just about to have a chat with the great Kimberini when he's nabbed by a fan. This of course results in the much discussed RF hip sway n' shuffle. The fan in question wanted to pass on a letter concerning his feelings regarding A Blessing Of Tears. He too had lost his mother and wanted express his feelings of solidarity and the comfort he had derived from this music. He also had a few CD inserts he wanted RF to sign. Kimber and I set out the CD's on the merch table and straight away I'm swamped by people trying to buy the stock. I discover that whatever we sell the venue get 15% of the take. I moan to RF who tells me that this is also standard practice. Mark JX from Colorado Springs turns up. I met him in Seattle on a Level One Guitar Craft course earlier in the year. Since then we've kept in touch. Mark recently travelled over to the UK to see ProjeKct One so this gig is almost in his back yard. After a swirling Soundscape, the band go off in search of the muse. After seeing P1 and P2, I recognise the strategy of locating a groove. This isn't nearly as simple as it sounds. The process is a mysterious one and sometimes elusive even to such gifted performers as these. As I listen to them searching, I realise that the thrill of a ProjeKct performance is waiting for that moment of collective engagement - when it all comes together and the thing flies. To my ears they don't quite find it until the second half. The second number of the second set is a stunner. Certainly the best of the night. They sound very different to P2 even though they have borrowed some of the themes developed by that combo. As they play, several people leave complaining that they didn't pay good money to come and see P4 playing horrible jazz like noises. At the 11th hour, the ubiquitous Robert Cevero turns just as P4 stumble through a rusty version of Vroom. After a night of orange juice (I prefer not to drink whilst on duty) I hit the alcohol and have a beer in the crowded bar next door with Kimberola, Mark JX and Robert Cevero. Kimber reckons P4 were brilliant tonight. I express some reservations. We agree to meet up the next day and shop till we drop. In my case, with my back the way it is, that wont take long at all. ******************************** * 24 October 98 * Boulder It's been great seeing Kimber. He and I spent a lovely day just browsing and buying CD's. Amongst several other goodies, I picked up Legend, Unrest and Concerts all by 70's UK avantagitprop combo Henry Cow. CD's are so cheap in the States ! Sadly, there was no hint of the Partridge Family in Boulder. We sit outside in the autumn sun in Pearl Street, Boulder. It's a lovely tree lined boulevard with festival shopping aplenty. I buy post cards and we share a few messages with the folks back home. We bump into TG a couple of times and come across RF but don't disturb his peace. Over to the Fox and I get set for the show. There are more people but we don't do as well as the night before. The new sampler Sometimes God Smiles goes down very well indeed. The inclusion of several unreleased or forthcoming tracks proves to be a great draw for people. That and that facts it's only $10. ProjeKct Four are quite stunning, sounding like they've found the muse tonight. The music takes off at such a pace one can almost feel the G force. PM is doing such amazing things on the V drums. Indeed his use of drums n' bass style rhythms might well be one of the most exciting developments in the KC related universe. I've always thought that the frantic shuffling breakbeats would be complemented by layers of Soundscape. I remember making this observation to RF at the P1 shows at the Jazz Cafe in December. He told me to wait until Radical Dance and indicated that PM was already at work in this department. During the show my excitement at this delicious melange is manifested by the development of shocking, audible but thankfully odourless, wind. As far as I recall, this is the first KC / RF / ProjeKct show in 27 years of active listening, where this has happened. Of course others standing nearby me during this period may have other views. Afterwards anorak opinion is divided. I rate the second night over the first whereas Kimber reckons first over second. Mark Jx and Robert Cervero join in the fray till the wee small hours. ******************************** * 25 10 98 * Boulder / Denver / Seattle / Vancouver Left Boulder and drove to Denver with TG, TL and PM. Robert Frazza in the driving seat. RF was already at the airport having left at 7 in the morning. We all spilt up to go, browse etc., whilst waiting for the connection to Seattle The back pain is wild today coming and going. When it goes I'm just uncomfortable. When it comes back I start to fidget like I've ants in my pants as I try to find a comfortable spot. As we neared Seattle I looked out of the window to see the peak of Mount Rainier emerging like an island from the sea of clouds. After a lengthy delay at SeaTac, we fly on to a dark and rainy Vancouver. RFz drives us all through an unfamiliar traffic system. I nominally navigate. Frazza quickly withdraws my status as co-pilot after I tell him that we are about to cross a bridge. There is no bridge. Yet I saw a bridge. It's dark and I'm tired I explain pathetically. As Frazza wrestles with the flapping map in one hand and the wheel in the other, he eyes me suspiciously from the side as though he'd just picked up what he now realises to be a very dangerous hitch hiker. The Sheraton Wall Centre Hotel awaits. Frazza and I are on the 28th floor. Phew what a view. At 7.30 p.m. we meet in the lobby and go for a meal with RFz, PM, TL and myself. During the meal, Tony tells lots of tall tales about being on tour with Peter Gabriel. At one point he mentions On The Air as being one of his favourite tracks from the first PG album. Without thinking, the anorak in me rises to correct him immediately. He disputes this saying Bob Ezrin produced it, at which I say "Hey what do you know, you only played on the album." I remind him that On The Air was part of the sessions produced by Fripp. He looks unconvinced but lets it pass. Afterwards the four of us walk through Vancouver with 4 identical blue and white golfing umbrellas twirling in the rain. Later, PM and I hit the Vancouver club scene to check out New York Illbient wunderkind, DJ Spooky. There's quite a buzz about his new album Riddim Warfare but I confess I'd not heard it. We are easily the oldest people in the place and I make a mental note to tell my broker to buy shares in spot cream. The music is loud and grungey. The p.a. is woefully inadequate and gives up on any attempt of definition at a very early stage. They mistake murk for texture. The highlight is a live mix of Sun Ra and John Cage. As this young man twisted the mixers and vinyl on the decks, I couldn't help but be impressed at the sense of adventure of what he was doing. On the down side, Spooky worried an upright bass with some dubious fingering. We both agreed that TL would have this crowd eating out of his hand were he to be playing the Steinberger against a Drum n' Bass backdrop. After an hour of spirited and enthusiastic playing, the club emptied and Pat and I grabbed a cab back to the Sheraton. PM is listening to Howie B and Talvin Singh's new albums. We discover that we both share an enthusiasm for DnB practitioner Photek and his Hidden Camera release. Later, I lend Pat a compilation of songs from French singer Charles Trenet. I tell him to check out a track called Boum!!. This track was recorded in 1938 and you can clearly hear Trenet say the word Thrak at around the 1.04 mark. Amazing but true folks. ******************************** * 26 October 1998 * Vancouver Up at 6.00 a.m. A truly stunning sunrise. We both rise to watch it from our vantage point on the 28th floor. The two of us in our shorts, beer bellies bathed in warm translucent light. I almost wrote a song. Find an Internet Cafe. Don't notice that RFz is also in here until TL comes in - a bunch of e-mail junkies getting our fix. I mooch around some CD stores but still no Partridge Family at Xmas. Consolation is found however in finding Christmas With Willie Nelson. Surely the definitive version of Silent Night. A voice as old as the spirit of Christmas itself. After a while I can hobble no more and so get back to hotel to hit the floor for some relief. The evening spent in a cinema watching the just released movie Pleasantville. Spend last hour of the film shuffling from buttock to buttock in gross discomfort. Whinge, whine, moan. ******************************** * 27 October 1998 * Vancouver Richard's On Richard's. We got in at 3.10 p.m. and by 4.50 p.m. Sinks, Murphy and Frazza have transformed a pile of boxes and wires into a neat environment that is capable of sustaining music with impressive speed. The stage is all set bar the fine tuning of levels and stuff. By 5.20 p.m. Mr. Sinks has Space Groove testing the corners and crannies of the sound system. In the sound check TL and TG work on a new piece given to them by RF. It's fiendishly complex and seems designed to induce Repetitive Strain Injury at a thousand paces. Imagine the fast diddly bits in 21CSM, some of the not so easy bits of Fracture, the intro to LTIApt3 and perhaps a sprinkle of the intro to NY3 and then some. As I watch from the back of the hall I can feel the pain as they try to navigate their way round the tight curves. RF ruthlessly counts them in take after take and makes it look easy. Even the seen-it-all before house crew begin to take notice as the piece unfolds and starts to come together. TG gets it quite quickly but only because he's been swotting up on it in private as he tells me afterwards. It's almost show time and it's a full house. The crowd are really excited and express to me their pleasure that Fripp and Co. have made it to Vancouver as they browse the stall. Space Groove sells like hot cakes. Not surprising really since the local Virgin superstore sell it at more than twice the price. The new sampler Sometimes God Smiles also produces much excitement containing as it does some choice live cuts from both P1 and P2. I notice that a lot of people at all of the gigs ask me for some guidance about the music contained on each disc. This is always tricky as my definition of what constitutes a sexy mutha of an album might be vastly different to theirs. Still, I always try and answer honestly and as an enthusiast rather than the chap employed by the promoter who wouldn't know the music if it bit his bum. Most of the stuff is easy to describe and frame for people. However, Gates Of Paradise is more of a problem for me. Easily my favourite out of what's for sale, it is however hard for me to verbalise the discrete pleasure that is to be found on this disc effectively and efficiently, especially when the prospective purchaser says "Is it like No Pussyfooting ?". So my stock answer for GOP now goes something like "This album will make your ears bleed, shred your wallpaper and kill your dog". Somehow it works and Gates continues to find it's way off the table and into people's lives. P4 play a blinder although they take a while to warm up. The second set is better and contains some superb group work. Trey plays an outstanding Thrush. They go into an awesome groove beast that goes Dubbadubbadubba on the bass end of things. This is the third or forth time I've heard it and it just gets bigger and better. Later, Trey tells me it's called "C's" or maybe "Seas" and comes from an idea by TL. Whatever it's called or wherever it came from, it sounds like the future arriving. Lastly we hit into hard-core DnB with some frantic bursts of solos from the crew. Very exciting and thrilling. Pat is pushing the others into unknown territory with this blend of live time and programmed playing. After the gig about 1.30 a.m. I go out in search of food. Only two blocks away from our hotel, I come across a line of several women. They seem to be tourist advisors due to the numbers of cars which slow down to get directions. In some cases I noticed they would even get in the car to show the driver the way. Now isn't that helpful ? They seem very friendly even to passing pedestrians such as myself. Indeed, one of them enquires whether or not I might like some company. I decline declaring my intention to search out Vancouver's finest grease burger. What a great city. What friendly people ! After getting the grub I'm standing at the lights. I see six racoon's wander past. They are the size of small dogs and they totally ignore me and my burger which I grip all the tighter. Given my track record with Robert Frazza and the phantom bridge I'm uncertain whether I should tell any one about this sighting. ******************************** * 28 October 1998 * Vancouver / Seattle I've always thought that life on the road must be terribly exciting compared to the boring 9 - 5 existence to which many of us are doomed. However much of a thrill it's been touring with my favourite band / musician I'm glad I don't do this kind of thing on a regular basis. I don't think I have the vast reserves of stoicism which are clearly needed. The drive from Vancouver to Seattle isn't particularly arduous though it does produce a fog of tedium which permeates everyone on board. As we get out at a pit stop about 100 miles from Seattle RF says to me " Do you know Sid, I've been getting out of vans for over 37 years as a professional musician." The dead weight of his boredom is almost physical. I've been doing it for less than a week and I know I'd go road crazy if I had to do too much more. The only consolation might be that the quality of the vans have improved over the years. As we stand and stretch, Fripp hams it up on the garage forecourt and Tony snaps away. There's something so unsettling about journeying but never quite arriving It's like waiting in a strangers house. You can't really sit down, scratch your balls and make yourself at home, as it were. Home for me is at the end of the telephone where all I love are soundly asleep. Given the wandering around bookstores and coffee houses, I wonder how the gang in P4 have the energy to get up on stage and do what they do. It feels like one long countdown, a relentless checking off the hours until show time. Only then does this kind of life style make any kind of sense at all. As if to underscore how transient we are, the hotel in Seattle has no record of us whatsoever. After a lengthy wait we get sorted out and by then it's time to get to the Fenix. The venue is decked out for the Halloween celebrations and looks fun. I talk to two young bar maids who tell me how much they are looking forward to the show. The band turn up to do their thing but there are problems with the rig. Rf goes off and sits in a corner and practices scales as if his life depended on it. Before the show Chris Murphy and I decide to eat out at a Vietnamese restaurant across the road from the venue. Before we cross the street, we bump straight into Steve Ball who gives me a big USA style hug and hand shake. Steve is a member of Los Gauchos Alemanes and the Electric Gauchos. We haven't seen each other since February on my first visit to Seattle. He joins us for a meal in this deserted restaurant. We talk about the new Electric Gauchos album which Chris Murphy co-produced. It's a hummer of an album and one which has been seldom off the Smith CD player since getting it in August. Pat M joins us for a somewhat bland meal. I leave and get back to the Fenix with minutes to go before the doors open. Back at the Fenix I meet up with lots of chums from Guitar Craft and seem to do as much pressing of the flesh as selling of CD's. I manage to sneak a few words with Bill Reiflin and enquire about the progress of his solo album. So far he's been unable to find a suitable deal. P4 come on and perform a belting version of C's (dubbadubba). It was in Vancouver when I thought this would be a great opener and so it proves to be. As PM and TL keep the thing bouncing along, Trey Gunn swoops and soars while Fripp puts layers of dark strings underneath it all. It's odd what some people do at gigs. One guy shouted "Rodney" at the top of his voice. A lot. As the band turn in the consistently best performance of the show to date, the same guy talks to me about forthcoming releases. As I sit behind a table with related merchandise on it, he asks what my job is. Oh boy. Call me an old fashioned stick in the mud but I can't help thinking that it's better to listen to the band on stage and what they're doing rather than chat and shout around the crowd. The second set opens with the slow Talking Warr Blues. After a sublime glimpse of the Thrush, they go into a number which I call Squigglybeats. Don't ask. You had to be there. RF and TG sound like Thelonious Monk meeting the Jolly Green Giant in a clod hopping, piano pulverising kind of number. RF turns in a vintage solo. PM constantly generates critical beats which spin wildly out into the hall. At times, the rest seem hard pressed to know what to do with it. There's a jokey exchange between TL and RF which makes the crowd laugh. Fripp has turned his guitar into a bass and is trading licks (or should that be scrapes) with Levin who is clearly amused It's the first time they've had such overt humour on stage. It works really well and seems to refresh all the players onstage and perhaps the crowd as well. The last number is a bollock wrenching belter led by Pat. It reminds me of the Intruder drum riff from PG III. The crowd go wild and in response the band really pull out the stops. And blow me back to Blighty, if they don't all manage to stop at once. I'm seriously impressed. As a sweat drenched Mastelotto packs up his V drums, I hobble round and tell him my thoughts on the evening. I think Pat enjoyed himself. Not only has he the live drumming to worry about but there's the introduction of pre-programmed beats, their real time manipulation,, monitoring their volume levels and the no mean task of listening to what the rest of band are doing. For him it seems the live performance is a constant process of exploration, articulation, and connection. It's clear that he's taking the V-drums and their crucial role in the development of music in the ProjeKcts into new areas. I reckon PM has more than earned his Sid Smith Man Of The Match Award. Afterwards at about 1.30 a.m., hungry and high from a great performance, Chris Murphy, Robert Frazza and myself find a diner and eat big, big food. I'm struck by this slice of Americana, with drunks, hookers and loudmouth's. And that's just the road crew. ******************************** * 29 October 1998 * Seattle / Portland Drive from Seattle to Portland. Trey points out Mt. Saint Helen's. It seems to be hovering in the sky. A white ghost against a light blue back drop. Pat spends the journey listening to DAT's of the gigs to date making copious notes about the V drum's settings and listening to his performance. TG and RF sleep while TL reads and sketches. After a long drive I get straight into the hotel and get flat on by back with my legs up on a chair to try and combat some of the discomfort. I hit the streets and within no time at all find a CD store but no Partridge Family despite their encouraging array of seasonal music. Frazza who is totally loaded with cold navigates our way to a chemist and an Internet cafe. Various messages and missives are dispatched and I feel better than I've felt for a couple of days. I pick up some postcards and land up in an English Tea room run by an ex-pat from Liverpool. In the evening RF, PM, TL and myself hit a fine Greek restaurant. Half way through our meal, a belly dancer appears and shimmies to our table. She asks TL to join her but he declines and points her my way. My dedication to good living has equipped me with a generous belly over the years and I've no doubt that in normal circumstances, I would have given the svelte dancer a run for her money. Sadly, the knacked back means I have sit this one out. Back at the hotel I lay out on the floor again and listen to a CDR of Trey Gunn out takes from both albums and some potential pieces for future releases. The inclusion of trumpet on some tracks works well with Trey's playing and provides it with a great foil to work with. I really rate his first two solo releases and for me some of this CDR goes well beyond those two albums. TG tells me he's thinking of releasing it as a limited edition. I know a lot of people have often overlooked TG's contribution to KC (I would count myself in this category around the release of Thrak). However, listening to this and seeing his work in the various ProjeKcts one cannot help but be impressed by the growth and depth of this particular player. RF often sounds as though he's galvanised by TG's playing. That is not to say TG is around in a subordinate role. On what I've heard so far, TG's playing provides as many thrills and spills as RF's. ******************************** * 30 October 1998 * Portland Last night I had a series of incredibly turbulent dreams. The theme in each was about personal loss. I find that they stay with me with worrying clarity throughout the day. A bright though chilly day in Portland. I search for the ever elusive Partridge Family but fail miserably. RF recommends Powell's book store and I go off in search. Instead I find a CD store called Ozone (?). I quickly decide that I want my ashes scattered there. After a full hour and half browsing the shelves, I can't make a choice. There are just too many to have and thus I leave empty handed. The Crystal Ballroom is a large, ornate barn with a fabulously sprung floor which bounces you as you cross it. During the sound check, the laconic Robert Frazza unveils the one string Warr bass beast that has been specially made for Tony. As Trey goes to work on it, amazingly low notes seem to shake the entire premises, enhanced perhaps by the sprung floor. In the sound check the potential horror of the acoustics are partially revealed. John Sinks makes an heroic attempt to liberate the sound from it's booming and murky shackles. A TV crew show up. They are there to do a piece about the risk of fire in public buildings. To do a two minute live link up takes them about an hour and a half. In terms of waiting around the TV business seems as unproductive as the world of rock concerts. The bar staff very kindly keep me supplied with root beer all night and the mood as folks file in, is of good humour. Someone tells me that they've heard a rumour that P4 will be playing ITCOTCK tonight ! Quite a few ask if RF will be signing autographs tonight. Legions more ask about the release dates of this and that album. Space Groove sells well as does the new sampler. Show time and after a Soundscape out of 1999, PM unleashes a stop start DnB style riff and is joined by TL pulverising his one string. With RF providing a twinkling piano and TG pushing out jagged slabs of sound, a kind of mutant hybrid funk gradually appears. The opening number has three distinct sections with PM providing the missing link between each one At one point a glitter ball spins maniacally as RF provides a magical solo of long sustained notes. The second number consists of blocks of piano chords shared between RF and TG. It sounds like some leviathan jumping across acres of grand piano's over a stop start backing. All the stop starting ends with a heart stopping finish. Well received by the crowd. The second set moves into a cracking version of C's. I rate this the best yet Better than Seattle maybe. The second number develops into a gorgeous version of Deception of the Thrush, once again as a duo between TG and RF. This piece has all the melancholic beauty and mystery reminiscent of Starless. Very powerful indeed. I notice many people in the crowd appear to be profoundly affected by this one. The last number at Portland is the Intruder style pounder. I've taken to calling this one Doom Tones because of the harrowing twin lead lines from RF and TG. There's such a menace to it. Once again, I rate this as the best version yet despite the terrible acoustics. Maybe I need to raise my quality threshold ? Overall, the show doesn't have the energy of Seattle but the individual performances are being honed and sharpened, just as their collective mettle is being tested and shaped. Back at the hotel I listen to a CD by Happy Rhodes. Robert Frazza is working with this singer / songwriter. The music is very influenced by Kate Bush and Peter Gabriel. She has a voice with a five octave range and the Big Frazzaman tells me she is awesome live. It's wonderful stuff and a total contrast to the storm and rage of P4. ******************************** * 31.10. 98 * Portland / San Francisco I'm awoken by the sound of Frazza shouting "No Justice" as he leaves the hotel at 7.00 a.m. with John Sinks and the equipment in the transit van. Chris Murphy and I drop Fripp and the boys at the airport in Portland and then begin the 12 hour drive to San Francisco via Interstate 5. Chris is good company and a generous listener. On the way through some stunning scenery, we talk of DGM, his work with RF, the Electric Gaucho's and the forthcoming mid term elections in the States. We both reckon the majority of the public do not support the partisan efforts of Starr enquiry. The ballot box will give the final verdict I guess. Pat M has given me a CDR of a new album he's been working on with a couple of colleagues. The line up is sax, bass, drums and vocals. It's a collection of songs that have emerged out of improvisations. They sound very contemporary and have a off beat, quirky view of the world. Stylistically, they slide easily between genres with twinges and strains of acid jazz, rock, country and electronica. Stand out tracks are 4 a.m. and 7 Sisters (?). It sounds to me like it's a finished album rather than work in progress. Pat tells me that he hasn't got a deal lined up for it. I have a brief fantasy about putting it out on my own record label (called DiN - purveyors of fine and contemporary electronica) but know I don't have the right distribution which this disc should have. As we enter SF, it's a blaze with city lights. It's nearly 12.00 midnight and the whole place is alive with Halloween celebrations. We dock in at the hotel which is decidedly modest compared to what we've had on the tour so far. Outside people are dressed in outrageous costumes. Chris M tells me that San Francisco is like this all year round. An abortive attempt to find a Chinese restaurant finds me in an area called the Tenderloin. I realise that I'm limping into the wrong place at the wrong time. I decided a tactical retreat is needed and quick. Bed and the TV await. ******************************** * 1 November 1998 * San Francisco The world's clock is running down and coming to a creaking stop here in SF. The down town streets are rubbish strewn and full of human debris. I have a quick wander around but cannot feel comfortable with the pan - handlers and junkies begging for change on every corner I phone Jonah Sharp and arrange to see him at the gig tonight. Jonah lives in SF and runs a record label devoted to electronica and dance grooves. He and I used to work together in Newcastle nearly 18 years ago. Originally a drummer, he went to London and pioneered the development of some notable chill out clubs in the London dance scene. He's featured in David Toop's history of ambient music called Ocean's Of Sound. He's been playing keyboards and sax with the likes of Fax ambient wizard Pete Namlook and more recently with some guys from Sun Ra's Arkestra. I toggle back to the hotel and await the pick up to the gig. The boring wait in the hotel is better than an increasingly sore back caused by too much hill climbing. The 7th Note is the venue for the two nights and is a great non smoking place. After the sound check, I meet RF's sister, Patricia. She is a veritable whirlwind of energy. Next to her I feel like I'm 200 years old, such is her vigour and sparkling enthusiasm. Richard Chadwick has come along after spending some time with David Sylvian. Richard is very excited by the new Sylvian album my feeble attempts to blag an advance copy are met with Chadwick's brilliant smile and polite refusal. Oh well, God Hides and God smiles and sometimes God loves a tryer. The gig is a sell out tonight and the crowd are very eager. I bump into Jonathan Brainin from New Jersey and Ray Peck who lives in the Bay area. I met these two guys in Seattle at Guitar Craft in February. It's good to see them. Ray has been a prime mover in establishing the Bay area Guitar Circle. Curt Golden from the League Of Crafty Guitarists attends the meetings once a month. Robert Cevero makes yet another guest appearance as well. Perhaps I'm overly tired but to my ears P4's first set lacks energy and dynamics. There are many examples of great individual moments and solos but the unit doesn't seem to come together. I talk to several punters in the interval who are enraptured by the music so perhaps I'm being too critical As I hover at the side of the stage keeping a wary eye on the merch, I see a couple of people have been rounded up by the house security and ejected following the discovery of recording gear. Fripp makes one of his rare stage announcements to tell the crowd of his Sister's presence and her availability for autograph's. I'm reminded of the incident at the Jazz Cafe in London at the P1 gig last year when RF took to the mike but had a flash go off. Thankfully the only flash tonight is taken by Tony Levin. During the interval Fripp's sister hangs around the merchandise stall signing autographs and drumming up trade like there's no tomorrow. The second set by contrast is better but the muse still takes a while to fully manifest itself. C's threatens the local fault line and Doom Tones swoops in full of dark menace over the Intruder style beat. This one makes me shiver again and again. Afterwards PM and TG ask how it went. I tell them it lacked verve and energy. They seem surprised although. RF nods in what I assume to be agreement. So what was the problem ? For me, there wasn't much room in the music tonight. It was very busy but brittle. Connections were made but seemed easily severed. Perhaps there was too much playing and not enough listening. That was certainly the case on the first night at Boulder. Of course it's easy for me sit and pontificate from the sanctuary of the merch stall. I get straight back to the hotel and plug into the wonderful world of American TV. I tell an incredulous Frazza that in the UK we only have 5 terrestrial channels. Somehow this makes me feel better as seeing what's on offer I realise it's quality not quantity. ******************************** * 2nd November 1998 * San Francisco I find an Internet cafe of sorts and am plagued by a local freak who bears an uncanny resemblance to mid 70's Jeff "skunk" Baxter. He keeps telling me how Clinton's crackdown on drugs is an attack on civil liberties. Moreover, he goes on to equate the Clinton administration to that of Nazi Germany of the 30's. He then wants me to buy some drugs off him. As a gesture of goodwill he offers me a joint free of charge. He seems offended when I politely decline. Eventually he badgers me into looking at his web site. There are two portraits of Clinton and Hitler with the caption "Spot The Difference". It's at moments like this I long for the parochial streets of Newcastle on Tyne. I find the local Virgin Megastore and to my amazement see The Partridge Family decked out in holly and baubles. I can't quite believe my eyes. I quickly purchase the seasonal platter and check out the Border's bookstore up the road. The new Kinky Friedman novel not yet published in the UK has my name on it and thus is snapped up. Happy Days ! At the venue, Sister Fripp has run up some posters to decorate the merchandise area as well as some of her own T-shirts. The "I've Been Frippnotised" badge goes down amazingly well. A bleary looking Ray Peck turns up. It turns out that he and JB were up till four a.m. playing a variety of Crafty tunes and exercises. It's show time and the strains of the Gates Of Paradise builds beautifully over the PA and Pat takes to the stage. He starts up a variety of skittering loops. Personally, I could take a whole album of this stuff. The stately beauty of the Soundscapes are perfectly offset by the furious eddies of V drumming. By the time the other musicians take to the stage there is such a sizzling buzz of excitement. From where I stand I can see people grinning and here and there some folks are dancing. I can't help think that this version of ProjeKct Four could be huge on the underground dance market. In a flash I can see a whole series of ProjeKct Four re-mixes. The atmosphere when the whole band starts up is almost scary. There is so much adrenaline pumping through me I even start a little bad back ju-ju dance myself. They play with a confidence and sureness of touch right from the off. There's no hesitant searching or grasping for the muse as on other nights. I'm transfixed as the fury of the first number gives way to a kind of walking jazz bass from TL and over the top of this, Trey launches a series of notes which arc off in space, reverberating over a spell bound crowd. The second set opens with Trey's Talking Blues which slowly becomes the duo version of Deception Of The Thrush. After this island of calm and beauty, PM unleashes the attack of the giant tabla's. The second number of the second set on the second night at San Francisco strikes me as quite the best piece of improvised music I've heard this year. They end the gig with a profoundly danceable version of C's. As Trey and Tony tap out the two notes RF conjures up the dark stuff. As the rhythm keeps building up, so to does the sense of excitement and anticipation. At the risk of putting my neck on the block I'm convinced I can hear King Crimson playing. Oddly enough as I listen, KC's Mars pops into my head. I can imagine the crowd back in SF '69 hearing Mars and possibly having the same feelings of premonition and foreboding. As the band take the applause I give TG a congratulatory shake of the hand "Best so far" I bellow at him over the applause with what is rapidly becoming my catch phrase. " It's not over yet" he cries as he and the others run back on to pound Vroom into the very fabric of the building. What a night. As the gear is being set down RF swings by and says farewell. He's staying in the states to do some solo Soundscapes work he wanders of with the whirlwind sister and some of her chums. I get back to the hotel and begin the task of unravelling the take for the tour with John Sinks. I panic because one column doesn't tally with another. Seasoned pro that he is, Sinks is calmness personified and realises that I've added up one of the nights wrongly. In the end it appears to balance though no thanks to me. As we do this Chris Murphy tries to watch TV and Tony Levin is on the PC uploading etc. John is leaving tomorrow at seven a.m. I hobble along to my room and start to pack. It's well after 2.00 a.m. ******************************** * 3 November 1998 * San Francisco / London Last night's performance by P4 was their best yet. It was astonishingly polished with superb use of space and dynamics. After seven concerts, the music has become more refined and ideas have been honed to their essence. Whilst everyone played a significant role in this, over the last few days Pat Mastelotto with his drumming and DnB loops have taken the playing in new directions. To this listener ProjeKct Four has gone where no other ProjeKct's have gone. I recall one or two folks commenting on the high content of noodling at the P4 gigs. The thing about music like this where there are only sketches and signposts (as opposed to rigid numbers with defined structures) there's always going to be a high proportion of "noodling". In this context "noodling" is a necessary part of the complete process. With largely improvised music, how can it not be ? The good thing for me is that from the likes of the members of P4 even this aspect of their playing is never less than interesting. Mind you, I'm not saying that P4 didn't have more than there fair share of dodgy moments. Overall however, the journey though sometimes long and winding, was always worth the effort required to hear it. I discover Trey has already checked out and so I leave his CDR with Pat M for safe keeping. I get to the airport and discover to my joy that the plane is virtually empty. This means I can stretch out on a few seats for the best part of the flight and rest my poor benighted back. I'm tempted to dip into the Partridge Family's box of Christmas delight's but manage to restrain myself. We fly under a perfect full moon and I try to sleep. I wake up to see Scotland unfurling below and feel glad to be on my way back Newcastle on Tyne and home [ends] ------------------------------ End of Elephant-Talk Digest #559 ********************************