1. Juliana is half a head shorter than me. In the rain I'm looking down anyway to keep it out of my face; she says something like 'that's why socialism is international, because one country can be socialist but it's gonna get screwed by other countries that want its resources.' The rain continues to pour, but in the clear plastic awning of the Tribeca Tavern we are sheltered from the brutal gusts of wind that send droplets down my collar.
2. 'I'm sorry you were waiting out in the cold,' or something to that effect, says Jean-michel. I say 'look at the trees. The leaves are beautiful.' 'You are enjoying it? I'm sorry for taking so long, I didn't realise you were out here.' I say 'We don't have autumn in Singapore.' He says 'Come in.'
3. Steve steps over to us, he might have said something but my ears are ringing and Chris and I share a look that says 'what just happened? Why did we stop playing' until I notice one of the strings on Nick's guitar is dangling, flapping about like a broken limb. Oh. Nick says that the new string isn't gonna stay in tune through a song like 'Power of Soul.' I say 'Nick, you wanna rap?'
4. In Singapore, I'm in a taxi crying my brains out. I thought you'd be better at this. What have you been doing? If you say that, it's never coming together. I will practice harder. I don't ever want to be a musician, it's too hard I've given it everything and here I am curled up like a stillborn foetus, covered in tears and afterbirth.
5. I am behind the cargo containers in the center of Taiwan. I can't remember my name, or what just happened; I know I failed in some way and that I shouldn't care but the rain and the gravel press into my feet and hands and nothing is escapable.
6. Can we do just one more quick one? Stella by starlight, around here (Gilbert counts it off fast)
hey man, I'm glad you came by--Sorry about the amp--Yeah man, Ray Brown is such a boss--I think that's pretty swingin'--Do you wanna learn this Ron Carter blues I've been working on--Sound good guys, that's just like the record. Are you reading from scores or something?
7. 'I think music is an inherently political act. That's why Darlene Clark Hine talks about 'sexual politics' when she discusses the blues singers. I mean - yeah, it's not political music as in it's not really a social critique, but just by, um, putting your experiences out there... I mean, what I'm saying is, it really kind of affirms that you're a human being, with real concerns and real experiences and I think once people accept that through music then there's the possibility for social change.'
8. 'So what I've really been meaning to tell you--and I only say this because you're my friend and I feel like I can trust you with this information--is that I'm basically Jesus.' 'Oh yeah, I think I've known for awhile, I mean we suspected that was the case.' 'Yeah. it's not really all that. People bitch a lot about stupid things. Am I walking too fast?' 'Yeah, I'm still getting the hang of these...' 'I'm sorry you broke your feet. I made those, you know.'
9. 山 is my friend. She has red hair and she’s a little bit less tall than I am. Usually she floats about five to ten centimetres over the ground, though, so we’re at eye level. She says my right profile is more flattering and refuses to walk on the other side of me. I say, ‘山, god fucking damn it.’ She says, glowing a little, ‘yeah. It’s shit. But look at the trees!’
10. The lights had been turned out and there was the feeling of hands and faces and teeth and some shared laughter, and some shared apologies. I say some things, I was drunk at the time, but I remember the words ‘yeah, it’s alright. Freely given, you know? And freely received.’
11. It was a disappointing sundown at the Hudson. I tramped four blocks there through the cold, I had Keith Jarrett or Grant Green or the Duke, something which I consider Proper Sunset Music on the headphones. It was too cloudy to see anything but the gradual fading of the day from orange-tinted grey to dark-blue-grey. The lights on the cliffs of New Jersey came on one by one.
12. Nick and Kim are a kind of conglomerate entity on the couch. I am on the armchair. I say 'Jesus the weather is fucking awful.' 'Yeah, it's been ridiculous.' It keeps raining, somewhat.
A few weeks later, it’s still raining and it’s going to be Thanksgiving in a few hours and the trees are dripping. Freely given and freely received. God fucking damn it, Christmas is coming. Jesus mother fucking Christ. I hate the weather.
13. Keith Jarrett is moaning. Jack is swirling like a blizzard and Gary is thundering like a tropical storm and Keith is moaning and screaming and playing and playing and playing.
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