So, do you want to know all the things I had to do to get ready for a more extensive tour? Well, for one thing, I had to buy more guitars.
This is probably what you came here for.
So, do you want to know all the things I had to do to get ready for a more extensive tour? Well, for one thing, I had to buy more guitars.
PART SEVEN: Summer 1989 * * * * When we got home I slept for a week. I’m not exaggerating… much. The last show was in Seattle and we were on a red eye back to Boston, so it was around 8:30 in the morning after being up all night when I actually dragged myself [...]
(And Remo finishes the tale…) The scorebook stood on the piano where I had left it. I gave Ray a beer and sat him in the foam chair. Martin had set up the mini-kit, just the snare and a high hat. I told him to play with brushes instead of sticks. “Wouldn’t want to wake [...]
(And back to Remo again…) So I was sitting there at the piano, banging away on the song. Eventually I got too hungry to write anymore, and I realized what time it was. Time to find out I didn’t have anything decent in the fridge and didn’t have time to go out and get something [...]
(And now a segment from Martin, Nomad’s drummer.) Wow, I’d totally forgotten that the night Daron showed up with a black eye was the night before we met Ray. But of course that makes sense because that explains why he was there and his Dad wasn’t. Okay, wait, maybe he didn’t have a black eye. [...]
(To get you all warmed up for new Daron posts again, we’ll start with a flashback story from Remo’s point of view, as promised many moons ago. At least, this section is Remo’s…) I named my band Nomad because I imagined we would travel the highways and byways of the world–or at least the country. [...]
Some time later, after everyone else was asleep but before dawn, I found myself sitting on the windowsill, tired, very tired, but not ready to lie down yet, rubbing my left thumb in my right hand and thinking. Bart was asleep on his edge of the bed and I wasn’t quite ready to get under [...]
Remo and I walked for about a block in silence, climbing the hill toward the hotel, me propelled upward by energy and the feeling like I couldn’t quite get enough air into my lungs. Streetwalkers called to us, homeless-looking men shifted toward us and then away. It felt almost like New York. “Wow,” I said [...]
There was a bellydancer waving silks and hands in front of the table when we returned, dollar bills forming a green counterpoint to the blue sequins of her costume. She coaxed Digger up and danced with him to the too-loud piped in music, circling around him with her scarves while he did a kind of [...]
The Moroccan place was total decadence, everyone half-sitting, half-lying on these pillows on the floor, the walls all padded with complicated patterns like the set of a movie set in a harem. I half expected the low round tables to come complete with a hookah. Chris and I and Bart sat with our backs to [...]