Aluminium

So we’ll be in the studio Aug. 12. Watch out for new Bang sounds and songs a’comin.
Here’s a new poster I’ve been working on.

Fourth day:

Got up early, around 10, and made our way to the financial district where we encountered a mile-long line of people waiting to get to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, that crazy French bitch who sits about a mile off shore in New York Harbor. The day was one for the books – by that I mean the cloud looked painted on and the sun was inviting. Once through the line and on the Circle Line ferry, it was a surreal experience probably not unlike that of my (most of our) ancestors had. Granted it was 15 minutes instead of 15 days, but there were so many cultures, dialects, languages and people from just about every state on this thing. It was a little surreal and you certainly got a sense of what it must have been like. I was thinking: would you become a little bit less xenophobic, a little bit less racist if you were on a raft with hundreds of others seeking a new life in America, or would your stereotypes only be confirmed … once on the island, we entered the institution, which dates to the 1850s and – again – it felt like I was on American soil for the first time. People of every culture waited in lines to see the dormatories, the hospice rooms and to hear the stories of immigrints who landed here mainly between the 1880s and 1920s.

After Ellis Island, we bummed around downtown, hit Tribeca, Soho, Chinatown, picking up trinkets, fake sea lion fingerpuppets, Puma wraparound watches a number of rare vinyl albums (white album, peter gabriel, dylan) at a good price. Dre was an amazing tour guide this whole trip – which, I have to say, was probably my favorite vacation to date. Anytime you can truly experience a place, and assimilate with the natives, it’s a fulfilling experience. Later on, we met up for drinks at “71” a truly niche New York bar, which was opened in what looked like an old stable or garage which dated back to the early 20th century. Had some oysters, went to the bathroom in a converted elevator and met up with some of Dre’s design friends. It was a New York exeperience through and through. Dim lighting, 5 inch wide and tall menus with no prices and a handful of patrons discussing the vast intricicies of life.

Later, we headed over to Afternoon bar in Tribeca (this is after, mind you, we drank at Cafe Noir and before Greenwich Tavern). A key element to the trip was drinking and partying, of which, I did a lot.

THe night ended with a trip the wrong way no the subway and eventually made it home after a cab ride at about 2 a.m.

Ahh, New York. It’s good to be back home, though. Ahh, Minneapolis?

I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but I’m trying to keep a diary of everything that’s going on. So, if I include a mundane detail here and there it’s for my own etification.

Woke up round 11ish … god it’s nice to sleep in. Dre and I made it down to downtown finally … picked up some new sneaks, had some brunch at L’Express on 35th and 5th Avenue and then walked around the West Village. These are Dre’s old digs and she didn’t have a hard time navigating the landscape, I on the other hand just did the tourist: looking around, slack-jawwed, trying not to run into people. I met another of Dre’s friends, Amy or Aimee or maybe Ayemee, anyway she was … let’s say … very New York Jewish princess without the Jewish. She seemed very unhappy, and I didn’t really like her. That written, I was trying to give Dre and her friend a little space – by that I mean I scoured a number of vinyl shops and played a very nice guitar on Bleeker Street, a Takamine I believe it was. Dre stopped by Grey Dog’s Cafe and I sifted through a T-shirt rack here and there. There’s something about the air here. Different from other cities. I feel slightly out of my element and have blinders on the whole time.

Dre, on the other hand, is absolute radiance. What a lovely soul. She is the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life. I don’t deserve her. I realize what she left in this city. Granted, she’s done well in the Cities, and didn’t have to leave. But she has me, I have her … and Jay-Mo. And that’s all that fucking matters. It’s a wonderful thing.

If I haven’t mentioned it already, NYC is the shit. After getting downtown, and through the Village, we worked our way back east and hit an enonormous open-air market where I picked up a T-shirt, some great vinyl including “The Beatles” a.k.a. the White Album and Peter Gabriel’s first LP.

After coming back to Tuck and Shannon’s it got a bit weird. I just sat on their couch, had a few more drinks and listened to Aimee talk about herself. I tuned out. Went away for a while. This is still a great vacation, don’t get me wrong. But it got weird didn’t it? I’m not sure if it’s the best vacation I’ve ever had because of the city, the happenings, or because I’m with Dre. Je ne sais pas. C’est la vie. Vraiment? Oui, bien sur.

Tomorrow is Ellis Island. Oh yeah.   

After a Northwest Airlines flight over on a plane from, I’d assume, the early 80s we touched down after quite a bit of turbulance at LaGuardia Airport about 20 minutes outside NYC>gotta cab to Dre’s friend’s apartment on the Upper East Side>had a few drinks at “Tuck and Shannon’s” and headed down to The Gaf, a proper Irish pub that looked like it had been around for more than 100 years. Good times, Jameson shot, a number of beers and a game of Big Buck Hunter ensued. Gotta love Big Buck Hunter … I’ve also played a game of “Too fast too ferious” at MSP but not before a Harley video game took a $1 off me. The party continued back at the apartment (or so I’m told) until about 5 a.m.
So that was coo. Next, I woke up at crack of noon and went to Central Park – saw Strawberry Fields where a number of homeless hang out and basically wait around and argue until the next cigarette is found…it was at the Dakota, where Lennon used to live and Yoko still does, that I kind of began to feel guilty for coming to see this stuff. Essentially this is a murder scene. Hey everyone! Come to a murder scene. In fairness, the door man didn’t look real happy that people were taking pictures but there ya go. The Dakota is a beautiful building befitting of a man who wrote such beautiful music when he wanted to. The rest of the day (about four hours of it anyway) was spent strolling the northern side of the park. The park was constructed in 1853, and is in the middle of this tremendously packed small island on the eastern seaboard.

This is my second trip to the Big Apple, and it’s much different from the first.  While lounging by the resevoir, that rights we were lounging, we met Armondo Arroyo a Puerto Rican who has  been deemed “The Mayor of Central Park,” who was the first to run around the reservoir. Cool guy, lot of stories (he was a boxer, traveler … lover of foriegn women). Very cool dude. Said he never took a drink, smoked a cig and worked 30 years for Bethlehem Steel (the “second” steel company to U.S. steel). Very interesting convo with this kind, old man.

Aside from chatting up the elderly, the walk around was really refreshing. Then I went back to the apartment to take a nap. Again, not interesting until I hear a gun shot, followed by seven more. I was half asleep when I heard them. I immediately think “Ok, it’s Fourth of July weekend and those could be very well-timed firecrackers, but I’m pretty sure they were gunshots out my window.” If the cop cars and ambulances were any sign, though, we had a bit of a gun fight. Word on the street is cops were in close vacinity to the shooting, and a few in the neighborhood witnessed it, however, details past that at sketchy at best because I’m lazy and ended up having a few beers and watching SNL with Dre.

This is a good vacation so far.