Serena Maneesh's Second USA Tour

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Spent a dismissive amount of time on the train from Derby surrounded by idiot 17 year old girls discussing shoes and boys. Switched on my laptop and watched the film DOLLS by Kitano, absolutely mindnumbingly beautiful. Was transported.

Got to London, Sarah had created a magnificent roast dinner so I sat back, drank, ate and watched Sympathy for Lady Vengeance as the time ticked. Got an hours sleep, headed to heathrow on the shitty Picadilly Line, Checked in, sat back, slept most of the flight, sat and waited in JFK for 3 hours for the lads while watching Ali-G much to the amusement of some Americans.

Jumped in an illegal cab, hurtled to stephs place, spent the next 4 days organising backline, visiting Gibson, saying hi to Sufjan in his rehearsal place, nights at the Motorcity bar with jennifer, days spent eating and sleeping, a couple of very late nights, then the gig at the Bowery, great atmosphere, special guests, late night drinking that lasted until 8am and left me with a caning morning rush, then down to the Bowery again to wait on the bus that never came, waited, from 11am till 7.45pm, rushed like a beast unleashed to Boston, made it at 11.43, loaded in, played, packed up, were out the door by 12.45, headed out with friends and ate, then back in the bus to drive to montreal. Customs was great, headed up and spent the night in montreal, what a grand city!

Next day was anarchy and hectic, just sorting out odds and ends and rushing for some great Indian food before playing a decent show, packing and heading West to Toronto.

Woke up to rain, found parking, had an incredible day in wonderful Toronto, bought a sweet ass jacket for 15 canadian, met up with Rik and Aleke which was magical after so long, such special wonderful people, the show at Lees Palace was astounding, full house and incredible response.. spent the evening running around to parties that never were and ended up at "the Tap" for a couple before bus.

Down to the city of dereliction, Detroit. Ugh. Found parking outside the venue, also found out there was free bowling, played a decent show for a small crowd, then headed south to Chicago.

Spent the day at Clark & Belmont, sorting out tons of logistics with our tourbus company, nightmare, then headed back to the bottle for a grand night of show, and also reunion with Paroma from my school in India. Was fantastic to meet her and her husband Raj who were so sweet and made everyones night so much better!

Then, slightly trolleyed, we caught the bus and headed towarts Minneapolis.... which is where I am right now....sitting in the venue listening to Tommy soundchecking the drums... entirely boring....

But such is life. Tomorrow, 2 drive days off on the way to SEATTLE!!!!!!

Cannot wait!

Our driver, an ex navy seal, drove 27 hours STRAIGHT... through snow storms and gales, stopping only 3 times for a cup of coffee or food. Thus we arrived in Seattle in the early hours, parked up outside Neumo's, slept in a little, then headed out on duty to explore the city once again.

But, before I start on Seattle I must point out that the drive day was phenomenal. Montana is an incredibly beautiful state and we spent the whole day staring out of the window, drinking red wine, and as night covered sight we retreated inwards and watched Dvds. Cosy. Back to Seattle.....

Ended up at the Athenum Bar, overlooking the sea and eating choice fish soup washed down with frosted mugs full of beer surrounded by old sailor types... fantastic. We were given free tickets by Neumos to go see the Suicide Girls but none of us could really be arsed so we decided instead to eat some Thai food, and settle in for some quiet pints on a slow barhop. Sarah joined us, so it turned out to be a jovial evening...

Today was spent sorting crap out with the logistics of tour, hearing INSANE stories about what some of the Serena cats had been upto last night with some girls, one of who was called Bliss... go figure.

I woke up, parked outside the venue in Portland. David, Darryl and I went for great coffee at Portlands answer to Cafe Roma, sat around and chatted and enjoyed the feel of a relatively early morning. The rest of the crew were up around 1. I called Peter and he recommended some stores and areas to visit, we walked, slowly, down long streets covered in bowing trees, some leaves bleeding to the floor, others trapped in the web of branches. Through bookstores, clothes stores, cafes, record stores, meeting friends heading out for another coffee at the same place we started the morning at, another music store, then the venue, load in, soundcheck, off to eat the smallest steak in the world, met Fathead and some of the Dandy Warhols crew who we hadn't seen in ages, then off to Voodoo donuts for a bizarre concotion that left me bemused.... I threw one away and devoured the other.

The show went relatively well. Followed by a few hasty hello's and goodbye's before the bus engine started and once again we were on the road.... off to another city, off to meet new friends and re-engage with old acquaintances... this time one of my all time favourites.. San Francisco..... Straight away heading for Cafe Roma, the old haunt... sipping the most divine coffee imaginable, before walking into the maze and strange/familiar smells of Chinatown...roast ducks hanging in windows, glazed pork, childrens toys in bright colours, postcards and t-shirts, dried shrimp and boxes of tea...For a second I thought I was back in Hong Kong and became incredibly nostalgic, but I shook it off for the best of the others... We visited Sam Wo's as usual and feasted on soups, veggies, noodles and all sorts of delights... Then it was time to catch a cab and head into the desolate factory district of San Francisco where Bottom Of The Hill lay tucked between houses and a strange empty lot.

The show was amazing, the crowd were great as were the people working there like last time. I actually managed to run into Tim for a few precious minutes and we drank some beers and laughed about India.

Pomona woke me up like a strange soap-opera set. Houses lined up and decrepid, yet strangely eerie and empty. Not a soul on the streets, almost all the stores closed and nothing to do except eat horrendous food and wait for the show.

Show went by mostly randomly and normally. Packed up. Headed to Hollywood to park outside the Orlando Hotel. Then onto sunbaked streets and the colours and contrasts of Melrose......walking...looking....tasting...bargaining....met Herb again which was amazing....headed to the Troubadour and thus followed a rather bizarre night of soundcheck, sour fucks working there, heading off in cars to a bbq hosted in a garden where some of the Jonestown and Warlocks were hanging out, got some free drinks and awful crayfish, then headed back, played the show, packed up, cabs again over to the Brian Jonestown show which we only caught the last song of, then to In & Out for late night burgers, then said goodbyes to all our LA friends and turned the bus towards Arizona.

The feeling of walking into an oven sums up perfectly what opening the bus door was like in Arizona. I vouched for staying in and watching dvds in the AC instead.

The day was lazy, good chinese food, a bizarre venue/sports bar, great people working the show, late night escapades to someones house somewhere to drink drinks and sit watch the stars while the night just enveloped us and slowly gave birth to morning... car rides back with inebriated people, bus bunks, the slow start of the engine and the prospect of a days ride to Denver.......

Seven in the morning and I was baptised with views that would haunt me the rest of the day.. insane mountains, huge canyons, snow capped mountains, small towns, trailer parks, a huuuuuuuuuge sky, the ongoing battle of colours, the majesty of open spaces.

The bus churned away, we stopped in some bizarre Indian reserve town for weird steaks, the ploughed through unfamiliar territory watching rocks and sand colour the windows for us, we ate ice-cream while outside the sun punished the aware, we snaked through canyons where barely inches seperated us from the walls carved by rivers, we opened up into fields covered in pure snow... barely a footprint to pervert the appeal, then we entered Denver as the night lay thick with its inky cloak.

Parked in some weird supermarket area. Got stuck in a strange bar with weird food. Slept a restless sleep with nightmares plaguing everything, woke up to a clear morning, headed over to the venue, did what we always do, then David, his son and wife took us all out for a spectacular meal nearby... it was so cosy, before we hurtled back to the club, played, packed, loaded, drank, and went to our bunks to sleep off the memories of another day.

Today we ended up in Lawrence, Kansas. I am sitting by the merchandise table, Serena are just about to play Sapphire Eyes, the turnout is ok, the day has been great, some friends drove all the way from Minneapolis to see us and its been great spending some few precious moments with them, we are about to finish up, pack, and head over to the bus and wake up in Denton Texas... until next time.....

Texas rolled into view once again. Denton. Rubbergloves. Could hardly find the bastard. Tiny venue by a railroad track. No signs. Nothing. Other than stickers above a door. We headed into town, got a great cup of coffee. Did internet til our heads bled. Found a cafe. Ate breakfast. Drank a cold one. Headed back to the club. The show went pretty well. The night was awesome. Bar kept open. I met a Hebron student. Reminiscing about life and confused about the future. Stayed at the bar late as they did a lock-in. Drank slightly too much. Woke up feeling odd.

Austin. Parked right outside Emo's. Scoured the streets for internet. Stumbled upon a fantastic cigar shop where the couple bitched about bush and we drank coffee and checked mail. Headed to the club. Sound check. Blah Blah. Eivind and I headed out for superb steaks and wine at an insanely good restaurant. The show went really well. Jason Molina opened up and was great. We all had a lock in. Ronson went nuts. Back to the bus for wine and long sleep. Deserved.

Houston. Ugh. Mexican food. Walked in sweltering heat. Club was great. Soundchecked. Sat in the bus for 4 hours watching suspicous car spying on us. Cops came. They left. We stayed away. Club had a curfew and we were forced to leave. Back in the bus and back over to the highways of America....long bumpy, shitty roads that keep you rolling in bed and constantly awake.

David Eugene Edwards is sitting 20 meters in front of me. Tuning his Banjo. The club is playing insanely bizarre music. There are approximately 20 people here so far. It's looking grim. On the positive side, the backstage room resembles some sort of Beduin tent with ornaments, and oddly enough a buddha statue....

Morning wrestled night to its side, and I awoke. The dew of a new day annointed me, sunlight flooding through the windows of the bus. The streets outside were highlighted in regions the sun shone, and hidden where he daren't. A thick, mystical wind curled around the trees making midday almost seem like some dream-like evocation. Slowly I registered. Six of us made our sleepy way onto sunstoned streets, surrendered to the inside of a cab, and ploughed the new streets of a new city. David was with us, and had been here many times before, therefore becoming the default tourleader for the day.

Truly I cannot describe what I saw today. It is impossible for my humble fingers to bark it out of this computer keyboard and attempt to explain even fragments of the delights we have experienced........beauty....long rows of decrepid buildings standing glorious with the sun flooding their peeling paint.......alleyways hidden by bowing trees silent in prayer......squares where music escaped from jangly guitars and found its haven in our ears.......lingering smells of a southern kitchen spilling through pots and copper pans......madmen laying drunk in their own despair clinging to railings and old newspapers.....shutters wide open allowing the stealing heat to rob houses of comfort......rambling cars in their exhaust clamor deciding paths laid out in white and amber......falling leaves portraying death on the streets of life, with vein and furled edges cautiously begging a final farewell from the nest of their birth.....dark wooden beams holding a bar up above the streets where cold beers were enjoyed with a flooding string of light piercing a badly built frame......fresh catfish grilled and battered in a small local cafe with smiling waiters.......the long steps on steaming tarmac taking its toll on us fair skinned europeans.......deep streets set like a movie set with decadent balconies and the dreams of a better life nestled in their tangled iron.....the blue, blue sky allowing all of us illuminated passage beneath her mighty canvass.......wandering around like children in a fairytale, with mouths open and hearts thankful.....

Day of dreams merging into a night of work, but not before securing a bottle of La Chouffe from a grocery store... sipping back on the waters of the Ardenne region here in the heart of Louisiana, with friends and foes at hand. Then the curricular activities of a show, the carrying, loading, setting up, dossing around in the backstage area, drinking a few mediocre beers, longing for another meal, waiting...waiting...planning the rest of the night post-concert... and just utterly utterly speechless at this city, well, speechless for a man who just wrote 300 words about it in 3 minutes... truly a treat!

Here I end, I would like to say with my pen running dry of ink, but sadly its just the end of my thoughts... they need time to replenish.. and I need silence for that.. something that does not come easy on tour... silence.. the one thing I long for in this storm of sounds and impressions.... silence.. the completion of my sadness.

Without patience for pleasantries, I burn on with this recollection of happenings that flittered by without time to even recognise...it seems.

Atlanta was next on the madness map. Friends of Ann allowed us the luxury of showering in their spacious homes sheltered outside by deep red trees shedding their leaves to lighten the load. The club was good. The show was not. The night passed onto another bar where inebriation and much silliness followed.

Chapel Hill greeted me. I went into the dark club and showered. I then walked into town on the eternal hunt for coffee. Second hand shops were found and ransacked. Organic food consumed. Indian food eaten late at night. Show was above par. Back in the bus and onto further and newer heights..... North..

The sun broke my skin as I ran out of the bus to help Darryl find parking. Falls Church was fucking boiling. Eivind and I went into the club to have a peek and found two cold beers chilling in the fridge... enjoyed and refreshed we walked into town with Darryl, payed him his wage, headed to an Irish pub for stew and a cold one, then back for Load-In and the embarrassment that followed with a 800 capacity venue filled by 53 people. The highlight was finding out the lightsguy was a backpacker who had spent years all over asia.. we rambled on with hasty stories as we sucked down beers and tried to sort the finances out way up in the attic. It was then time for festivities. We headed down to the Irish place again, Had a couple. Then watched Eivind go mental at the karaoke place opposite as he grabbed the mic, tried to dance and sing "Like a Virgin" and at one point interrupted a womans performace to blow into a straw. Oh the joys of tour managing...... we got him back onto the bus and left for Philly.

Scott Hatch was in Philly. Tom Roberton was in Philly. This was the first time we had all met up since the days of Hong Kong and beers at Shek-Ol. Unfortunately there was not enough time to really chat but it was fantastic to hang out a bit. The show was good. We wrestled away and headed over to Monks to eat fantastic fries and burgers washed down with La Chouffe..!!!! mmmm......Back to the club late late at night, and into the bus, Tom and his friend Sarah joined us and we pointed the lights towards New York and settled in for some drinks and dvds.

Sometimes I just love touring.

Rolling into Brooklyn brought back memories. It filled me with expectation. Warsaw was an incredible venue, full of character and atmosphere. The duties were done, we headed upstairs and ate of the table, then tommy, peter and I walked out to a Polish deli where we managed to secure a bottle of ZUBROWKA.. the best vodka on earth... we ate decent thai food, said hello's to those who came, the show went really well and james iha actually went on stage and made some noise on beehiver II.... we then returned to find the backstage room stripped bare of drinks... moaned loudly... packed the gear.. took it to Death By Audio...went to a local bar with sarah, emil and eivind and sank some pints with a girl from vice magazine and the singer of Enon as bartender... quite surreal.

The three next days passed in inebriation at Motorcity....walking the streets of brooklyn, catching a new pornographers show, getting driven around in a limo with some guys from My Midnight Creeps, Going to a gallery and meeting a phenomenal old artist and being taken around his 4000 sq feet apartment in manhatten, walking around in blistering sunlight, sleeping at marc steiners apartment when too tired/pissed to go home, spending more time at Motorcity, sitting on the rooftop at DBA and looking at the skyline before us.. spending time with Tom and Rohan... eating good food, taking cabs.. spending time with the Pomade people in bars in Bedford ave... listening to dodgy karaoke until our stomachs turned... then heading home.. packing... leaving... catching cabs to the airport... chaos... boarding.. sitting back...drinking.. watching Volver... asleep......asleeeeeep......london next...fucking england.

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