We’ve played just one time on this day, so let’s see, what say we recollect our 1995 show at Strom in Munich, which I recall like it was . . . like it never happened. Looking at the set list doesn’t help; I’ve got nothing. Two years ago, Georgia and I went to see the restoration of Shirley Clarke‘s Ornette: Made in America at the IFC Center in New York. Quoting Dwight Twilley: That I remember. Great movie!
In 1992, we were offered two shows in Portugal, a country we’d heretofore never visited. I could talk for hours (and in fact have) about this trip, but today will simply focus on the drive from Porto to Lisbon. The promoter hired a bus to transport all the bands–there were at least four others, but I feel like I have to be forgetting one or seven–save the Legendary Pink Dots, who traveled separately so they could arrive early and soundcheck first. At some point, one passenger had a brief conversation with the driver, who then pulled over so every man except me and James could leave the bus to pee on the side of the road. Apparently Portuguese, just one of many languages I don’t speak, has no words to express, “You know, we’re stopping in less than five minutes for lunch.” Stomachs full and back on the road, we drove straight past a sign which seemed to suggest that travelers to Lisbon might want to turn left. Ever naive, I assumed the driver knew a shortcut or that buses were not allowed on that highway, or perhaps he just wanted to see how long it would be before the road we were on would narrow and cease to be paved. Turned out, not long at all. Confounding gender stereotypes, our male driver did not hesitate to ask directions . . . of a couple standing in their front yard with their ox. Though it did not appear that automotives played a large role in their lives, they were nonetheless able to direct us back toward Lisbon. We eventually arrived at the venue. The plan was we would have our soundcheck, while the rest of the entourage went to dinner. But things were running way off schedule and Legendary Pink Dots were nowhere near finished. We decided to grab what looked like our best chance to eat–in the long version of this story, I explain the complete fiasco of the Porto evening which made us fear that no amount of waiting would result in a soundcheck. So everyone gets back on the bus to head to the restaurant. Our driver has wedged himself into a parking lot in such a way that it takes him 15 minutes of maneuvering before he can negotiate an exit. Then we drive for less than a minute, at which point we have arrived. We walked back to the venue. Opening song: “I Heard You Looking.”
Warning: I’m about to blow your mind. We played just three times in August of 1997: once at Tower Records in New York, and twice with Tower Recordings from New York. You can’t make this stuff up! Today is the anniversary of our final show of the month, at Cambridge’s Middle East Cafe. Also on the bill was Versus. Early in the set, we brought up local impresario and bon vivant, the late much-missed Billy Ruane to declaim “Attack on Love.” Thirteen years later, due in no small part to his affection for Billy, Peter Wolf would join us at Hanukkah. Would you believe it–the very next night, Metal Mountains, comprised of three former members of Tower Recordings, were our guests at Hanukkah? Would you believe two nights later? OK, it was two years earlier.
Not that much to report about this day, so instead, courtesy of historyorb.com, let’s wish a happy birthday to T. J. Beam who, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, spent portions of 2006 and 2008 with the Yankees and Pirates respectively, and a happy birthday to Ralph Woolfolk IV, never to be forgotten for his single season on My Brother and Me. Though not a complainer by nature, I’m nevertheless compelled to ask of historyorb.com . . . wtf? Where’s Georgia’s birthday? Where’s James’s birthday? Where’s mine?
Tell-all appearances to the contrary, the reminiscing on this page is selective: There are some things we’d rather keep private. And were it not for an email from Judy from my home town of Croton-on-Hudson, NY, I don’t know that I’d be sharing this story.
The only thing I can think of is when YLT played at your brother’s wedding on Woodybrook Lane. What year . . . hmmm? Your parents invited us, knowing we (2 small kids and us, all wfmu fans, the children involuntary) were avid Yo La Tengo listeners. Disappointment reigned. We were on vacation in Maine. But boy did we want to be there.
The year was 2000, fourteen years ago today. My brother got married in our childhood front yard, after which we performed on our driveway. The bride and groom were responsible for many of our selections. (“Don’t Blame Us–The Groom Requested It” was a sign I wish I had at my disposal when “Mighty Idy” plastered most of the guests to the rear of the tent.) Just in case that was insufficiently emotional, we got one of my other brothers to sit in on organ for one of the two sets. My mom (my dad could never have been a party to this) went rogue and invited Judy. And not just her and her family. Four days earlier, as we stood on the landing outside the Jane Street Theater awaiting our first song with Ray Davies, a stranger informed me that my mom had invited him to the wedding too! This came as something of a shock to the married couple who had devoted much time to pruning their invite list to the bare minimum. Anyway, not to rub it in, Judy, but you missed our one and only performance of Sammy Davis Jr.’s “Keep Your Eyes on the Sparrow (Baretta‘s Theme).”
Twenty-four years ago today, we begin a two-night run in San Francisco in support of the Sundays. Touring the USA with them, we received the same payday for every show, except for the pair at Slim’s, where in what we always took as a gesture of their San Francisco-ness we got an extra fifty dollars (and except for the next dates in Los Angeles, where the equal and opposite gesture got us fifty dollars less). A note on our dressing room door sounds us out about inviting Cyril Jordan to play “You Tore Me Down,” but we’re afraid our opening-act timetable won’t permit it, so don’t pursue that avenue for another 13 years. Question: Was anyone reading this at the Garage in London 16 years ago today? And if so, any idea what led us to perform “Born Free” during our encore???
