Day 6
And so I get home and all is calming. And clammy. There is no band to see across town at 1pm. Or 1am. There are no more Yellow Cabs and sleek black Car Service glides from Brooklyn into the pit of Manhattan, no more subway rides overground in the glistening morning sun. No more beards (I shaved off mine own on arrival at home) and probably less beer, weed and pizza than has been the norm this last week. Certainly not for breakfast anyway.

So, was it all hard work? Well, yes. And no. Don’t get me wrong: 15 hour days of bands and beer are great. I have to admit is a little daunting when you stack 5 of them back to back. Especially rolling straight on from two days on the road with new Swedes, Air France. But I have skills and methods and coping strategies. Continue Reading