He cracked

Thirty years, one show in Santa Fe, three years ago today.  We play “Right Side of My Mind,” just in case Gregg Turner‘s on hand (he isn’t).  Sixteen years earlier, we’re again in the southwest, Tucson, to be precise.  I’m looking at the set list, and I don’t remember a thing–we used to cover Hypnolovewheel’s “You Choose“?!  But here’s what I do recall:  dinner earlier that night at the Congress Hotel.  Our soundman Terry Pearson is having a rough tour.  Traveling the USA by van, troubleshooting p.a.’s on a nightly basis is a full-time job, but Terry–whose main gig is mixing Sonic Youth–is also doing pre-production for the upcoming Lollapalooza, which is one headache after another.  We’re doing all we can to make him comfortable, but all we can do is cede him the entire back seat of our van (and dub it Terry’s Room) and it’s not enough.  He’s growing increasingly short-tempered, and when the Congress serves him a martini with one olive instead of two, he’s inconsolable.  OK, right now I’m typing this with a smile on my face, but I do nothing but sympathize.  Who among us hasn’t been driven by the combination of stress and fatigue to overreact?


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