Big Kitty

4/6/2024

I left Pedro in the morning, headed towards the artist and musician Luke Pelletier’s house where I was going to film a song in his garage. He has a series of musical performance videos in his garage which he’s decorated in a beautifully exuberant way and which includes several of his great paintings. I met his wife Kristen who is a great painter, and brother Tristan who filmed the video. It was pretty incredible to see Luke’s garage in person, having only seen it on the internet. It was almost too exciting, fortunately I’m road-worn and disoriented enough at this point so my senses feel somewhat dulled. This is actually a great feeling, like the Fool in the Tarot, or a baby. Of course never having met Luke before, I didn’t know what he woud be like. Turns out he’s quite tall and very relaxed and friendly, easy to get along with and happy to show me all the miraculous artworks around his house, most that he and Kristen made but also some that they collected. I recorded three songs with them, and I guess they’ll choose one or two to put online. I liked their two dogs, Haze, a big brown dog, maybe a lab-pit bull mix? I’m not sure. Then Rooster, a classic pug. I like pugs, can’t help but laugh at their faces and tongues.

The weather was gorgeous, just the most beautiful weather you can imagine with that great, clear & brilliant LA light. I had several hours between the filming and the house show that night so, I drove to the beach, despite it being about an hour in either direction. I went to Venice beach, because they said it was the closest one. But I was really glad to go there, I’ve been to that beach a few times, starting when I was 10 years old, and love it. I ran up and down the beach for a while, then meditated, touched the water. I walked along and people-watched. I was a little disappointed that the three guys working out at Muscle Beach weren’t freakishly ripped, but at least there was a crazy punk show going on right beside it. It was a band called Neighborhood Watch, who seemed like they might be a legendary old punk band that stuck to their guns as they aged. There was a crazy mosh pit, including a shirtless guy on roller skates and a masked man in a wheelchair. That was wild, I loved it. But didn’t stay long.

I then saw a sight I did not expect to see. Harry Perry, the guy I remember seeing back in the 90s as a kid, who plays heavy, psychedelic guitar solos while roller skating and wearing a turban, was standing right in front of me, looking more or less the same! He wasn’t on roller skates, but his guitar, which is white with red concentric circles, was the same, albeit heavily aged. I told him I remembered him and always loved seeing him. This must be the third or fourth time I’ve seen him. He was a bit down, though–he seemed depressed. But he still played the guitar and sang. I bought one of his t-shirts for Naoko.

Around five o’clock I drove up to Aaron’s house in la Cañada, where the show would be that night. It was in a classic suburban neighborhood that seemed built in the 50s and could have been located almost anywhere. Their house is beautiful, a spacious place that must have been a middle-class dream house at the time it was built and still had the same appliances. Their stove works with buttons instead of dials, which I seemed to remember my grandmother having at her house in Selma. There are also horse stables in the back, and a horseshoe is stuck in the driveway with the word “Drifter” and the date read 1960 I believe. Inside the house was a bar, with a thatched roof covering it. Aaron and others made cocktails during the show.

I met a lot of really nice people at this show – Zach, Levi, Madeline, Jolee. The vibe was very relaxed, friendly, open. Aaron began playing as Dingbat Superminx – we played several shows together in the bay area when I lived in Sebastopol, and are definitely kindred spirits hunting some similar hallways in music, though with quite different styles too. We both have a lyric-focused sensibility and we like doing playful theatrical things in performance. He did a lot of performing to backing tracks at the time, which I also did of course. But now, I was really jazzed to learn he’s got a real band backing him up, and they sounded fantastic. One difference between our music is his lyrics often focus on social commentary in a humorous way. He had one song about a “Full-Time Muse” that was so funny. And then his last song was a sort of panegyric against recording music. I loved that. But, it reminded me that I had really wanted to record his set and forgot.

I also forgot to record my own set, which was a shame because I played some of the songs really well. I again had Rolly Lighthouse introduce Roy Sessick, who introduced me as Big Kitty. That was fun, if complicated, having them there. Also, I don’t know why, but I felt very nervous playing my songs, but fortunately people responded really well. Several folks told me they were both laughing and crying, which is so great.

After me came Frogluv – this band is focused on the songs of Ruben but has very interesting instrumentation which features a blend between electric guitar, saxophone or clarinet, and backing vocals. It’s really inspiring hearing a band that’s really a band, that makes new music collectively. Well, I don’t know how they write it but it seems like it must come about through playing together.

After the show Aaron DJed a little dance party. I didn’t end up dancing, though I’m pretty much always ready to dance. I was pretty tired, having gone running, I suppose, and I sat down and drew while enjoying the music and atmosphere. Afterwards, there was a nice jam session that sounded like minimalist classical music, Terry Riley kind of stuff. I enjoyed that and recorded it. Had some nice conversation with Aaron, drank some hibiscus tea with CBD honey and went to sleep on an air mattress that Madeline set up for me in their studio. Another studio with a 16-track 1″ tape machine! I have several friends with these machines. It’s inspiring to me that so many people are recording in their homes this way.

This morning, I woke up pretty late, almost 11AM. Of course that’s about 8 hours after having gone to bed. I’m used to a very regular schedule, so this is unusual to me, but I like it. It observes a different rhythm, music’s rhythm I suppose. I woke up and shaved, which felt great. Aaron was washing up the glasses in the bar when I emerged. He made us some eggs in a cast iron skillet on the push-button stove. They were the first eggs I’d had since beginning this tour, so it was a treat. I had a great time catching up with him, and enjoyed hearing his idea for a reality TV show involving earning money by not offending people.

I’m in Ojai now and will be playing in a few hours at Greater Goods. Everyone at the show last night seemed to think I’d love that place, so I feel good about going there!

I’ve driven Insterstate 40 into Los Angeles around ten times in my life, so few times I can almost remember each instance, but so many that some memories are harder to untangle one from the other. This time, I think I’ll remember it more clearly, because it snowed. The thermometer reading in the car plunged about thirty degrees and there was a huge gray-blue-black swirl of a cloud dominating the sky.

I knew I was close to San Pedro when I saw the huge crane arms from the port. This is such a cool part of LA, with the docks that light up at night. Last night’s show was at the Sardine, a venue that Todd Congelliere from Recess Records opened up since I was here last, which was around 7 or 8 years ago. Todd’s record label released the Big Kitty album, Florence, back in 2012. That was of course a very important thing for me, and so this place and Todd’s support have always meant a lot to me.

Of course, before I had that personal connection to San Pedro I was a Minutemen and Mike Watt fan. In fact, Mike Watt is the inspiration behind writing a tour diary. I used to read his back when I was a teenager, all the particular slang from Pedro that he used making a big impression on me of what this place must be like. Well, after visiting a couple of times, I must say that I haven’t heard anyone speak like Mike Watt, but this place does have a character all its own that I can sense despite the little time I’ve spent here. It feels like a friendlier and humbler part of LA, but still soaked in the sun and beach. Anytime I go to a coastal part of LA I get a certain feeling of ease from the people that I imagine is linked to the proximity of the beaches and sun, and maybe the ultimateness of living on the Pacific Ocean. There’s also a cleanness and consideredness of image that seeps in through the entertainment industry. That’s not a quality held by everyone by any means but I do feel like each place I’ve been so far on this tour has given me a pretty strong individual character, which runs against the narrative of homogenization that tends to dominate my concept of the trajectory of American culture.

So back to the show and the Sardine – I love the size of this place, with very high ceilings, a large, open barroom in front and another, about equally large back room for shows, with a very roomy stage. There were two acts, a band called Play Hooky and one other, whose name I forget. Play Hooky was really fun and catchy, a rock band with some funny songs and occasional surf and punk touches. The bass player was playing through a pretty major foot injury, and had his leg bandaged up and on a scooter. He was just smiling and having a good time despite it all. I enjoyed their set, it was nice and long and gave me some time to chill out a bit.

There were between ten and fifteen people at the show, so it was a fairly empty room. The cold weather may have played a role. It wasn’t, of course, that cold, but for Los Angeles it was unusual. So when I got onstage I said, “It’s great to be here in Fairbanks.” I think it may have produced a chuckle in some souls.

I tried a lot of new stuff at this show, including opening up for myself twice, with two different characters: first, Rolly Lighthouse, who just acts crazy and has an extreme southern accent, and Roy Sessick, a bit of a self-important lounge singer type whose character I’m discovering as I go. I used a cheap Lone Ranger mask with an elastic cord that got stuck between my eyes and the holes in the mask, so I could not see while doing these songs, which made it extra weird. The Roy Sessick songs were sung to backing tracks, and I thought they sounded not too bad for my first ever try. It’s pretty fun to sing like that because it’s so much louder than just guitar and voice.

This show was great, again, despite the small crowd. I’m not too bothered by performing for just a few people, when you can see individuals clearly. I used to be more so of course.

I needed a place to stay and Ryan, who was bartending when I first came in, offered a practice space nearby with a huge couch, where I’m still sitting writing this. This is a really nice practice space, with lots of room, and it’s clean. Amazing.

Today I’m going to visit Luke Pelletier’s garage to film a song or two, then move on to play a house show with the great Dingbat Superminx!

In between Mississippi and Albuquerque I stayed in a motel I’d been wanting to stay in for some time, the Blue Swallow in Tucumcari, Arizona, one of the classic Route 66 motels with a beautiful neon sign. I drove into a parking space around sundown and immediately met Robert, who runs the place with his wife. He had a certain midwestern accent, a burst blood vessel in his left eye, and a very well-worn-in motelkeeper friendliness. I stayed in room 1, which is quite small, has a working rotary phone, old furniture, and even a crocheted blanket hanging over a small easy chair. The next day, when I was checking out, Robert noticed my Megadeth t-shirt (I found this at a yard sale in New Orleans on the way to the studio) and he said, “Nice shirt.” I chuckled and he told me that he was in fact a metalhead who had seen a lot of concerts in Chicago, where he’s from, including the early Metallica lineup that included Dave Mustaine. When he found out I was on tour, he said next time I come through he would trade me a room if I played some music for the other guests. I’m making plans!

The show in Albuquerque was arranged by my old friend from Gainesville Ryan Quinney. When I asked him if he could help me find a show in Albuquerque, he found a venue and screenprinted a poster within about 60 minutes. I am so thankful for that! What a dream. He has a nice screenprinting setup in his house and makes shirts and other printed matter. Here’s his website, go buy some stuff from him!

The weather in Albuquerque was perfect – sunny and cool with blue skies. I got to the venue, an art gallery, before it was open, and I took out my guitar and started practicing. The venue is close to downtown but also in a residntial neighborhood – it’s at 606 Broadway, if you’re looking for it.

Juan, who owns the venue, and Ryan showed up soon and we set things up outside, since it was such a beautiful day. The stage and area around was fragrant with blooming wisteria.The person doing the sound, whose name I can’t remember but may have been Bernadette, was celebrating her birthday, and Ryan’s partner Emily baked her a cake. Emily is a professional baker and she made a peanut butter & chocolate, gluten-free, vegan cake, that was extremely good.

There were two other acts besides Big Kitty on this bill: first was Ermine, a solo performer on ukelele with a variety of effects pedals. I talked to her a bit beforehand and found out she’s a playwright and hosts writing workshops. Her set was gorgeous, including some near-ambient uke playing and a cover of “Make Me a Pallet on Your Floor.” She mentioned that this was the first time she had played out since the Covid lockdown.

I played next, and I had as my goal for this performance to give it more energy and weirdness, to try to lose myself in it, and to play some new songs I haven’t performed live before. I opened the show wearing a blond wig and a long blue dress as the Rolly Lighthouse character, who is a version of a character I give to Naoko’s doll Baby Coco. I don’t know how well it worked but it was pretty fun. I had her explain the radios and sing “What is the Truth?” which is a song from the first collection of Accompanyments (see my Bandcamp profile). She then introduced Big Kitty – I got offstage, tore off the dress and returned, and launched into “What Flowers Do” which is a new song that was just recorded in New Orleans. It was the first time I played that song live. I did a rather large number of spoken-sung Accompanyments style songs and tried to lose myself, and I did get into some interesting emotional spaces. I’ll have to review the recording I made, to understand what happened a little better.

My friend Sean Lucy was there as well and he requested “The Ballad of Almond Robin,” which I sang last and heard him singing along to. That was pretty special, and I made sure to add a few changes to the lyrics to get him laughing.

After me came a great band, Midnight Stew, who I recommend heartily. A 3-piece, they play “NDN country” which was also pretty shoegazey because Greg, who plays guitar and sings, played through a bunch of pedals that made his sound pretty psychedelic. I dug this music so much and you should listen on Bandcamp.

This show was over earlier than usual, which was great because I’m still trying to get caught up on sleep from jet lag and many late nights. I went back to Ryan and Emily’s house, where Ryan and I had a nice time catching up and I met their dog Porkchop, who was definitely not very sure about me, barking a lot. He was the first Jack-Chi I’ve ever met: a Jack Russell-Chihuahua cross. I found myself studying his face, fascinated, noticing elements of both breeds, which would encourage him to bark at me more. When Porkchop gets a treat, he gets up on his back legs and spins around in circles. He did that for me twice.

I was so thankful to have a futon and a room to sleep in in their beautiful adobe house. There was a wonderful clown and clown art collection in this room, as well as other cool paintings and things.

In the morning I woke up, meditated, and we talked some more. The neighbor’s dog, Gumphy, who is a different kind of chihuahua cross, barked at me also. It was another beautiful day.

Tour Diary

I ought to have written this a whole lot earlier, so it will be less detailed than it would’ve been if I’d have written each night about each day. But here we are, on April 3rd so we have to go back a few days… I left Atlanta more or less concurrently with Chris Acker and drove many hours south to New Orleans, where my friend Amanda left a key for me at her place since she would be at work. On the ride I began listening to Werner Herzog’s autobiography via the Libby library app. This book is very easy to lose track of while listening as the tales branch off each other and Herzog’s reading has a hypnotic effect. For that reason it’s like listening to a Thomas Pynchon audiobook, and I didn’t really understand it, just listening to the words like a stream of water. So I don’t end up listening to it as consistently as I do some others. I’ve listened to music.

Let’s go back to my friend Amanda’s house. Amanda was very generous to put me up the whole time. She is so generous that I apparently never thought to tell her how long I was planning on staying, which was the number of four nights. I enjoyed sleeping on her golden couch looking at the 3-quarter moon while trains rushed by and their whistles blared.

But the first night I arrived, I brought my guitar and notebook in and looked over what might be recorded in the next days. At this point my voice was still very affected by laryngitis, which I was trying to only see in the most positive light, but also knowing that I would not be able to sing certain songs like “Funny Stuff,” without my voice healing. Changing my singing style to current-Bob-Dylan’s Great-American-Songbook croon worked well enough for most things. “Headed Nowhere” seemed to stretch out to about 8 minutes like saltwater taffy. So we would have to record calmer, lower-pitched vocal tunes for the first day. Those turned out to be “Home to Hell” and “You are so beautiful.”

I was very curious to see the studio, and I went over in the morning to unload and meet Ajaï who would record me with Sam Doores, Gina ____, and James Wallace. The studio is located in the Bywater beside the Saturn Bar where I once played a show with my brother Brad and Joshua Bennett (Nommo). I am so thankful and excited about this event and consider it a blessed occurrence. I was relieved that I felt instantly comfortable with Ajaï, thankful for his ability to never seem to get stressed out despite all the really demanding technical aspects of recording. I’m also thankful that Sam and James have a lot of technical knowledge and experience with the recording process that I don’t, and awed by what a tight, funky band capable of all sorts of colors & textures they make. I loved the pastel yellow walls, accented with a deeper shade of yellow, and the shell-shaped lamp that is also yellow.

I picked James up at the airport and we went straight to the studio and recorded those two songs I mentioned before. James had an unusual vision for You are so Beautiful with a rolling Latin rhythm which turned out really beautifully, I think.

James and I both stayed with Amanda and the next day James and I went to a Co-op grocery to buy snacks for everybody to share. Hummus, chips, cans of sparkling water, trail mix, apples, bananas, this was my diet for the next three days, except for the water.

We worked really hard in the studio, and had a blast doing it. There were only good vibes the whole time and the feeling was really relaxed. The second day, when we recorded two flower-themed songs, “December Dandelion” and “What Flowers Do” I also had a concert to play that evening at 6PM, at Domino Record Shack, with Chris Acker for the third and last time of this tour. This show was staged to coincide with the opening day of MLB baseball season. One funny thing about when I first met Chris was that he asked me if I liked baseball, as though affirming what he knew to be one of my characteristics, which it is. I asked him how he knew that, and it was because he had seen that I liked posts by the account batflipbombz on Instagram. That moment really got me. I loved the concept of this show, which included free hot dogs. It’s always a good idea to offer free food at shows, it was one of the rules for a Dos Bros show to have free chips and salsa provided. I remember Josh Windmiller giving communion to his audience with bread he’d baked the day before.

I was a little flustered going into this performance, because I had completely entered the world of recording and needing to return to playing live felt like a shock. But I had a very quiet room and a wonderfully friendly crowd. I played and stretched out all the fun bits and just felt very easygoing and breezy. The best moments involved interacting with Broozy (not sure how that’s spelled), who is a friend of Sam’s who hadn’t planned on coming but was convinced to… that was unknown to me but for some reason I singled out attention on him during the show, partly because we had similar-looking Nalgene water bottles, and we made a show of drinking water at the same time, it was a real hoot, you had to be there I guess, maybe you were. He was really into it and bought a copy of Excelsior Breeze Catchers. There was another good moment when I sang my old song “Because I Don’t Love You” and asked people to raise their hand when they heard me mention New Orleans, which is where the guy in the song moves in the third verse.

After the show was over I went to the bar next door (where earlier I had used the toilet, now I was a paying, or rather a paid-for, customer!) to watch a Seattle Mariners baseball game because Chris and Matt, the owner of the record store, are both fans of that team. As it turns out, the bar did not have that game or any baseball game available to watch. So we hung out in this bar with a lot of people I didn’t know. It was both fun and socially awkward for me to have my voice be too quiet to be heard in such a loud place. I mostly had to listen and react with a physical gesture. After a while I went back to sleep on the golden couch at Amanda’s place.

The next day was the best studio day: we recorded five tracks including New Sadnesses, Funny Stuff, Chico, Or Something, and a spoken monologue. This was a really long day I still haven’t fully recovered from, because the next day, the fourth and last in the studio, was even longer. That day we were mostly recording overdubs, including all my vocals and guitars in case the live ones don’t work as well, which I suppose they don’t on account of other instruments bleeding into them. At this point, my voice was thankfully almost back to normal, but not quite. It’s not ideal for recording but I think it made me sing better in the end, because I had to be very thoughtful and careful about how I was doing it. At the end of this day a loud marching band passed by and started up at the Saturn Bar, and we had to add more sound protection. We recorded 3 solo acoustic songs. I was a bit tired at the time as it was around 1 or 2 AM and didn’t want to repeat them too much, so they’re not perfect, but they have the right feeling in them.

The recording experience was really intense and fun. I am a bit tired now, but I hope to add more details later.

The next day, when the recording was done, I felt a really odd feeling, because this phase of it is now complete, and it had been one of the main things I thought about over the last few monthss. That was suddenly changed, because the treatment of those songs was different now, as the lyrics were already settled and laid into the tape. Now the thing to think about was how to finish some remote overdubbing and considering of arrangements, which mostly don’t have to do with words. I felt excited about that, like a freshening of my view – I could write about anything, now, with a completely open intent. I sat down for a minute that morning and wrote something, some kind of poem song and it felt great.

Then I had to get my butt in the car and head north to Starkville, Mississippi, where I’d never been before. I was going to meet with Ming Donkey whom I’d played with once in Chattanooga around 12 years ago. I am amazed that he would consider putting on a show for someone like me who would do something like I did. It was about a 5-hour drive from New Orleans to “Fire Station Park” where the show would be, and Google Maps took me to a Fire Department, where I could hear from a short distance Paul McCartney’s “Temporary Secretary” blasting on some speakers. I followed that sound until I found the show. This show happened on Easter Sunday, the air was warm though the sky was cloudy, and birds were singing all around. When I arrived, Max – aka “HBO MAXX” sang some tunes that were so cool they really took me by surprise, to a Boss drum machine and electric guitar. I recorded most of his set and gave him the file later. I loved his music. Then I played and it felt really good. I just felt happy to be there and it felt easy to sing after all those days of laryngitis.

After the show, Jason (Ming Donkey) told me he’d treat me to dinner somewhere, I said I wasn’t hungry but I’d like to go hang out a minute, and so he and his buddy Keith took me to a bar called Rick’s Café Américain where we had some time to chat. I loved hearing stories about growing up in Starkville and the movie Dark Passage that I really want to see now. I left the bar for Columbus where Max lives and where I would sleep that night. Columbus is about 20 miles away and what I saw of it was beautiful old houses in a neighbordhood full of trees. That’s where their house was, and I was greeted there by Miles, Max’s cousin, who also plays in their band, Hartle Road, and by his dachshund, Ozzy, who at times quite excitable. We ended up talking about music, listening to each others’ records, the one they just made with Calvin Johnson, and other things until about 4 AM. I was amazed at the recording setup they have in their house and I would call the people of that house mad geniuses. Finally, while listening to a monumentally-huge sounding Scott Walker, I fell asleep on the couch.

I woke up around 8 in the morning completely covered in blankets around my head, and I just sat there and meditated. I was tired so my meditation blended with dream deviations when I slipped into sleep. Still, a very nice thing that I did right before Max came in. I hadn’t seen him since the show the night before, because unlike me, he had gone to bed early. He was great to talk to after having talked with Miles the night before. I’d like to stay in touch with those guys, their music making is top notch!

Next… to Albuquerque.

I’m going to have to keep this one short because I’m about to head to New Orleans to start a recording project that I’m very excited about. I am also not at my normal singing capacity, but hoping for a swiftening of the recovery process. I could certainly use your healing vibrations.

Last night Chris and I drove in our respective automobiles to Rowan Newby’s house in Atlanta, where I had played before with my friends Matt Downer and William Johnson. Rowan hosts Room Tones, a very cozy house show at his museum of a house. I love visiting people with a lot of interesting stuff to look at.

I opened the show this time, and felt like it went better than it has been, which is a good sign. My voice was definitely much improved and felt on the way to normal. I had a lot of fun on this one; I just met a friend of Chris’s named Robert Henry – and I asked him if he knew the artist Robert Henri, and he did. I believe that made me make one single, joyful clap.

I sang “Almond Robin” and “I Didn’t Kill Elvis” this time. I feel the solidifying effect of nightly repetition, intuitively feeling my way towards what this show can be. Which is something pretty different every time.

I really enjoyed being able to sit back and listen to Chris Acker and Rowan Newby after finishing my set.

I’m going to leave this short because I’ve got to get on the road and start thinking about this record. I don’t have a show for 3 days now, but will start recording tomorrow. It’s going to be a beautiful thing!

Excelsior!

The drive from Asheville to Athens was a breeze. I’ve never driven this route before, but it was beautiful and full of interesting sights. You pass through South Carolina, which was a little surprising to me. South Carolina is a state that I have not much experience with, know very little about. Of course the country I drove through, between from North to South Carolina and then to Georgia, looked not remarkably different on all the other sides of the borders. Just beautiful everywhere.

I stopped at a Walgreen’s to find some razor blades. I use a Safe-T Razor which takes just the old-fashioned razor blades which are kind of hard to find, but I found some here. Then I made myself my tour special: peanut butter on some of that thin, Scandinavian bread, and meditated. I’ve been meditating twice a day and so far in the tour it’s been done in the rental car several times. I love meditating, and it’s helping me stay grounded in the great confusion of the beginning of this tour.

I put the address of the venue into my navigator and, to my surprise, never entered the town of Athens but wound up at, as Chris Acker called it, an “office mall” in a rural zone. At first I thought I’d ended up at the wrong spot, but then remembered that I had been here before several years ago, when I visited Dave Barbey’s studio, which is also in this building. This venue is called Bolo Bolo. Inside I met Nathan McGee, who had asked me to play in Athens about two years ago, and here I am, finally able to swing it – of course in the altered, but not diminished, state of having a severely weakened voice. Some warm welcomes and introductions followed. Hamlin was running the show, and I learned he spoke French. We had a little French conversation that made me realize that French also sounds like home to me. He’s done some interesting projects in Switzerland involving using the piano as an art object. Nathan’s band included two beautiful folks by the name of Jack and Jake as well as Charlie.

I headed back outside to load in my things and saw Chris Acker. We had a nice meeting. I was of course electrified by the presence of a VHS copy of Naked Gun in his possession – one of my foundational works of art. I recently rewatched these movies with Yuri and Naoko, and found that the first one is still really funny. The other installments I would recommend only to die-hard fans.

So a brief description of this show: Jay Gonzalez opened, solo guitar with great melodies. His last song blew my mind: he hung a small keyboard on his guitar and played a melody on it while he strummed the guitar. That seemed extremely difficult to play but it sounded heavenly. Next Chris played, and I know a lot of his songs and really loved seeing him live. His songs are great, funny and human and with such a good eye for detail and rhythm.

Then I played – oh no, what should I do? Well, I knew I wanted to transcend myself in an unpredictable way so I just started in like the Fool on his journey. I tried singing the falsetto song again and it didn’t work out nearly so well. So I made fun of myself and did some other things, including some Accompanyments, some contests for the audience, and another dance moment. I gave out some Reese’s Eggs as prize. Love those things, but I don’t actually eat them myself these days, because of my throat issues. I’m also thankful to these because they make it necessary not to drink any alcohol, which makes every day start better.

Anyway, I continued on, and there were some really great moments, and then there were some moments when I felt like a bumbling idiot, when that fragile balance I was talking about before “fell in the water.” The concert was recorded, which I think you’ll be able to hear on the venue’s Patreon page. But I would really like to hear it too, because it went through so many phases and stages that I have trouble piecing it all back together again. I think that there’s something good in that. In any case, I feel like I learn a lot every time I play.

Chris had mentioned he had a dog in his car. Oh boy. I wanted to see that dog. The opportunity presented itself as we were going home. Doug is a very adorable, small pit bull. White and gray. He was sure happy to get outside.

I stayed over with my friend Matte Cathcart and Del (a recipient of a coveted Reese’s Egg at the show) and we talked and had tea and listened to the new ADD/C album, Ordinary Souls. It’s fantastic, I highly recommend that. Matte has a good old dog named Charlie who I got to pet. I slept well on his couch, under a big landscape painting and the loving gaze of a stuffed clown and monkey.

3/23 Asheville

Driving into Asheville I was listening to the Nick Cave and Sean O’Hagan conversation-book called Faith, Hope and Carnage. No comment on that except there are some great moments on it.

This was an easy and familiar drive, from Knoxville to Asheville, though I followed a detour through some special places, and saw some beautiful sights of mountain scenery, crazy yards and off-kilter country businesses. The town of Newport, Tennessee seemed interesting. I went through without stopping, though I would have liked to have spent a minute there looking around. Later on I passed through Hot Springs, where Yuri and I stopped on our 2009-2010 tour, the last tour I did that was this long. We went to the hot springs there and camped nearby. I saw a vending machine advertising LIVE BAIT with such great fish art that I convinced myself to take a moment, walk around and notice some stuff. That’s the life I want to live, the one where walking around noticing stuff with a fairly empty mind is possible. So that was a good moment.

Everytime I come to play at Static Age there are new developments and improvements. Jesse, who owns the place, amazes me with his future visions, by which I mean the way he can imagine things evolving in his record store and venue and then make those visions into reality with his own hands. These days there’s a second venue next door to Static Age, where I played last night: the Static Age loft.
A beautiful little bar and restaurant.

A pair of double names were involved in the show this night: Adam (vibraphone) and Adam (some befuddlingly cool electronic gear with lots of patch cables) and Jesse (singer-songwriter) and Jesse (owns place). I loved hearing Devyn, Adam and Adam’s beautiful explorations of loud and wavy dreamscapes. Jesse & the Jinx sang extremely gorgeous country music. And there were records spinning the best music, from George Jones to Peter Stubb to crazy novelty songs I just couldn’t keep track of. There was a group of designers who made some psychedelic fried-egg backdrop that glowed under blacklights. If I find out what they’re called, I’ll add their name in later. They also made a nifty miniature skating rink that was on display in the entry.

The weather in Asheville turned horribly cold, with strong winds. I didn’t want that wind to touch me at all, especially my ailing throat. But there was no way around it, just had to plow right through the center of it. My voice is still gone, my throat still so tender. I’m just trying to stay OK and disciplined about talking as little as possible. It’s a taste of what it would feel like to be mute. Because in a noisy environment, there’s no way to make myself heard at all. So I have to mime like Harpo Marx and it feels embarrassing and fun. I can tell some people think I’m being rude at first, then I have to insist that I just can’t speak, write messages on paper, and they understand after that. On the whole, I feel much more comfortable being around people than I used to. That makes me feel good.

This show, I felt quite nervous about again. I guess that always happens, but I do feel differently about performing these days. I just want to give everything I have in the moment, and it’s not always clear how to do that. It’s similar to meditation I think, where there’s a struggle at attaining a blissful, autonomous center, which is a very finicky balance between effort and non-effort. But my performances also require memorization and planning, they’re only partially improvised. So in the lead-up to this concert I was trying to enter into the structures of what this performance would be, each element of it, and remember how to navigate all these twisted pathways of often nonsensical words.

Everything felt pretty great at this show. My voice is still horrible, just absolutely horrible, which is fantastic in a way, because it’s forcing me to do everything differently. I’ve never been a “quiet music” singer – always sang loud and I feel more comfortable that way. Now I’m forced to almost kiss the microphone and sing softly. I started off singing a falsetto tune, which I knew was a crazy idea, but the falsetto part of my voice seems somehow intact. This was pretty rough, but I hope in a nice way.

I also did a couple things I’d never done before, a new sort of poem and a story told to radio noise. The story seemed pretty long, but I feel people connected with it, because some people told me so afterwards. At one point, to break up the slow tempos and very relaxed energy, I just put my guitar down and did a wild, high-energy floor-slapping dance.

It was great seeing Joe Chang from Gold Light – we played a show together at Static Age about 6 or 7 years ago with Skyway Man and Josephine Foster. I loved meeting and talking to Joe and Josephine that night.

At the end of the night, around 2 or 3 AM in the intense cold, my car was blocked in by some people who were trying to get their Jeep jumped. I couldn’t help because I rented a hybrid car. I felt sorry for them out there in the cold. They said, “don’t worry, someone’s coming for us.” I managed to get out of the parking spot and Jesse led me to his house. Well the place where he put me up is practically a hotel room, separate from his house. I believe he rents it out on Airbnb. It was pretty luxurious to sleep in a king-size bed, though it’s hard to sleep with all these mixed-up times and worries about my voice coming back. Jesse gave me some really nice, very thick Chinese throat syrup that feels great on my throat. He’s so generous, so kind, and someone I always feel comfortable around even though we’ve seen each other just a few times.

That’s all for now. I’m about to head to Athens, Georgia to meet up with Chris Acker for a couple of shows.

Next day in Chattanooga the reality of my lost voice sank in. I could barely talk. I looked up an article on my phone, how do you quickly recover your voice? The response was, there is no way, you pathetic asshole. You have to stay hydrated and wait a week or two. Soon after I spoke to James Wallace on the telephone, who reminded me of the extraordinary recording session that we’ve planned, which is coming up in just a few days in New Orleans. I stared at the Downers’ guppy tank as we spokem saying a sort of prayer that I could have something of my singing voice back by that time. The Downers were again very thoughtful and generous. Emalaya did some research and found me a non-alcohol based tincture for respiratory health that includes several herbs that could help. She gave me some bags of herbal tea and some CBD-infused honey as well. I couldn’t believe the generosity and felt healed just by the thoughtfulness and care shown me. Page equipped me with a bath towel and a coffee mug to take on my trip. The coffee mug has chickadees on the sides, birds that make me think of home and Yuri’s birdhouse gourds hanging on the window, that’s full of chickadees all the time. Also of the Carolina Chickadee which has a song I loved when I was growing up in Tennessee and that I heard as I left Knoxville earlier today.

 

I had some bumper stickers made which I had sent to the Downers’ house, but except for a very small few, they came in late and so I don’t have them. It’s a shame because they are very funny and I was really looking forward to having them at my shows. Hopefully they’ll make their way here soon.

 

On the way to Knoxville from Chattanooga, feeling the stress of having basically lost my voice, I kept the car silent, except for the squeaking windshield wipers. I felt like I needed rest, and so I took the most restful approach to what I was doing. This gave me some space to think of what I would do onstage for Big Ears. I had a couple of ideas for spoken bits, which I rehearsed in my head, sparing my voice. And I wouldn’t be able to sing anything with high notes–fortunately some of my new songs are slow and relatively low-pitched. Voilà, somehow, as often happens, some shape of an idea came to me. It included one of the chocolate hearts (strawberry cream) and, at the last minute, as I was eating a piece of celery, I was struck by how pretty the celery stalk looked. I put it in my coat pocket. People I didn’t know kept commenting on it. It was great. I decided to eat celery onstage as part of the performance. That somehow made things seem more comfortable to me.

I was greeted warmly by a lot of familiar faces and friends at the Pilot Light. It’s an amazing place, that has totally altered my life. I was really lucky to grow up nearby in Maryville and get to see mind-blowing and wide-ranging performances there. To get to play there a huge privilege to me. I always want to do something good and try to give everything I can to any performance, but perhaps even more so there. I was definitely sorry to have such a handicap coming into this show but had faith that some kind of alternate path would present itself. As it happened, I took it slowly and sang quietly. I almost cracked myself up singing, as I realized how my laryngitis-weakened vocal cords sounded a lot like Bob Dylan’s recent vocal style. I’ve been obsessed with his Sinatra-style singing and it felt good singing that way. It was also easy to access really profoundly sad feelings, Whenever you lose some ability that you’re used to having, even if temporary, it feels very sad.

 

After I was finished, I had the great pleasure of finally seeing Earwig Deluxe perform. As I was breaking down my set-up he came on stage in the most glorious costume, just glowing like a deity. I looked at him transfixed and said, “You look like – a god!” His performance was really great, my favorite part being a song in perhaps Esperanto or perhaps not any language, when the dramatic lighting made me really believe was a god. It was awesome in the true sense of the word.

 

After his performance I decided to take a walk, though it was raining. I made it about one quarter of a block, just to see the bright lights of Central Street, then felt satisfied and returned to the venue where Ed Shrader’s Music Beat were performing. This was my first time seeing them live, though I had seen video a long time ago fo Ed Shrader hosting a talk show as part of the Baltimore scene of the early 2000s that I was inspired by at the time. Playing as a duo, with only a floor tom, vocals, and bass guitar, they made the earth quake. It was a moving performance, with sincere exhortations mixed with wisecracks. Later on, watching Steve Gigante playing his legendarily beat-to-shit guitar, Maggie Brannon, and incredible drummer Greg Saunier from the merch table (also terribly fantastic!) in the back of the venue beside Ed, I drew a picture of him (very rough!) and wrote a note saying I loved his performance. Because I could not speak over the music. I was surprised at how he was so into the picture, and how he was so positive and friendly. We both ended up spending the night at Jason’s house so we got time to meet each other with the bass player Devlin, who is so funny and smart. I was really thankful for how energetic and verbose he was because I didn’t want to talk at all. Plus he kept making me laugh. We showed each other pictures of our pets. I’m so happy to have met them and also Cassie who let me into Jason’s house when I was fading towards the end of the night. It was much later than I should have gone to sleep, around 3:30 in the morning, but I was able to sleep for about 8 hours, thankfully, and hope to be on the way to recovering. Now I’m in Asheville, ready to play at the Static Age Loft. More later.

Three days ago I flew to Nashville from France. In one day I drank water from France, London, New York, and Nashville.

My brother Brad picked me up and hosted me at his place in Nashville for two nights. We had a memorial service for his departed cat, Beau and our mother Sarah and we had a nice family reunion time.

Yesterday, my very kind mother Sarah drove me from Nashville to Chattanooga. On the way we stopped at the Russell Stover chocolate store in Manchester. They offer candy from passed holidays at half price. I picked up a few Valentine’s hearts and a semi-solid chocolate turkey. You are going to need these things.

In Chattanooga we drove through the perennial highway construction to the Brainerd area where I rented a Toyota Corolla hybrid car from a very laid-back fellow named Norman. This is a name that appears in my song “Scarecrow”: “I stuffed the straw into Norman’s khaki pants and striped shirt.”  Norman’s car will be my tour vehicle for the next month and a half.

I then went to visit my friend William Johnson (Heavy Comforter) who lent me a guitar and amplifier that I’ll use throughout the tour. It’s a 70s era Yamaha acoustic. It plays great and has a big sound. He also lent me a Vox amp that we used to use in the old Big Kitty band. if you see it on tour you’ll see that it has lived. 

The first show of the Tour was at the Woodshop, a new-to-me venue in St Elmo, which is a neighborhood of Chattanooga where I lived for a few years. I loved living there and would have loved to have this place nearby at the time. It’s a nice, wood-forward hang out with a bar, tables and couches focused toward a performance area with piano and organ. This show was hosted by Alex Volz and also included my old friend Matt Bohannon. Alex started the show with some really funny songs. My favorite: a chapter of a long narrative about an old man and a Chihuahua with an ornate guitar prelude. Matt Bohannon then set the world on fire with his Wildcat lightning bolt songs. Then it was my turn, uh oh. But as often happens, though I feel trepidation getting onstage I let go and something else takes control. We all played Matt’s really well set-up Silvertone acoustic guitar and the sound was clear. My college professor and great poet Rick Jackson and his wife Terri were there, which touched me very deeply and made me a bit more nervous than usual, which Rick found ridiculous. It was so good to see them.

I had booked two shows for the first night, the second being at JJ’s Bohemia, a venue I have been playing for 17 years now. It’s always great to return there. Because the Woodshop show went a bit late, I didn’t arrive until about 11:30, as another old friend, Johni Acorn, was finishing up his set. He was playing with a bass player and a drummer and the sound was fantastic. I’ve always loved his songs and it was good to see him in upbeat mood sporting a brightly colored Mexico baseball cap. The crowd was quite small at JJ’s, probably due to the lateness of the hour, and I felt almost like it was the first time I played as Big Kitty on that stage, when I performed in much the same way that I did today–singing unsettling a capella songs mixed with  guitar-based songs. But this time I noticed I was getting hoarse, and over the course of the show it got worse. I was very tired also and had trouble remembering things, as a result of being jetlagged and overextending myself. At the same time, I loved playing this show because I felt very free to improvise and make up songs on the spot. The very nice bartender requested “Tracy Chapman,” so I made up a song about Tracy Chapman and chapstick. And I liked how my voice sounded raspy. I could still sing falsetto also, which was surprising. But at the end of the night I began to realize it might be serious and I stopped playing around 1:30 in the morning. 

Matt and Page Downer hosted me at their house, another place that gives me a sense of home. They offered me some CDB infused honey which soothed my throat. I petted their dog and watched their cats watching me warily. Now I’m waking up there and writing this first entry in the tour diary, which glosses over the million details I would ideally like to share. 

But you can see a pattern here of generosity and love from a lot of people who make up a family to me. Chattanooga is a place that feels like home to me.

Check out the Shows page for the dates!