8th/9th October - Flying Home

October 10th, 2006 by Billyb | Posted in Road Blog |

Hit the ground running in Los Angeles – straight from the airport to the CBS TV studios to record a couple of songs on the Late Late Show hosted by Craig Ferguson which goes out at half past midnight on the network, just after David Letterman. Ian McLagan flies in from Texas to do Great Leap Forwards and Tank Park Salute with me. We spend the evening hanging out in the hotel, hoping for a chance to be rude to Paris Hilton.

Next morning it’s a drive across town to do a radio special for NPR then on to another tv, this time recording Great Leap and Bush War Blues for the Henry Rollins TV Show. Contrary to his tattooed gnarly persona, Henry is a lovely bloke and we talk politics long after the cameras have stopped running. Eventually, we are forcibly separated and then it’s back across town to the sound-check.

The venue, the Henry Fonda Theatre, is some ten blocks from the hotel and the walk is star-studded, literally. Embedded in the pavements of Hollywood Boulevard are stars bearing the names of famous people from stage, screen and music business. Names known around the world are to be found alongside those that you have never heard of. Some, such as Rudolph Valentino, come from the early days of the movies. Others are more contemporary – one just says Queen. However, the vast majority - and there are over 2000 - were completely unknown to me.

The Walk of Fame stretches all the way to the Fonda and the further you get away from the Roosevelt, the seedier Hollywood Blvd becomes and so too the setting of the stars. Hank Williams is to be found outside of a frilly-knicker store while Bela Lugosi seeks what little shade there is to be found on the corner of Ivar Avenue. Seemingly disgusted by it all, Helen Reddy has slipped away down Vine Street.

The Henry Fonda is an old style theatre, a happy change from the last few shows we’ve played in this town, which have tended to be in bars like the House of Blues, which is nothing more than a boutiqued version of the Mean Fiddler. By contrast, the Fonda has a proper stage and very good sight lines. The audience are brilliant. Attentive, politicised, appreciative and as a result I do what I feel is the best LA show I’ve ever done. Talking to the punters afterwards only serves to underscore that feeling.

Also, the backstage area sees a constant flow of people before and after the show, reminding me why it is I come back to LA again and again, despite the town’s reputation. The fact is that I have so many friends here.

After the pressure of LA, San Francisco is a joy, our last stop before home and a town that has always been rewarding for me. The weather is decidedly English when we fly in, allowing me to deploy the new raincoat that I picked up in Toronto for the purpose of autumnal touring. Soon as I put it on, it does the trick. The rain stops immediately.

The show at the Great American Music Hall had sold out almost as soon as it went on sale so I added another on the same night. I’m onstage at 8.30 and 10.45. The GAMH is an old burlesque theatre, full of ornate gilt plasterwork and its low capacity, around 400 seated at tables, gives it an intimate atmosphere. I try to make the two shows as different as possible without messing up the flow of the set. Doing it back-to-back like this is odd but it works and I send them home happy twice.

The last date of the tour is a festival in Golden Gate Park. Hardly Strictly Bluegrass is a rarity – it is not only a free festival, it also carries no sponsorship whatsoever, so the punters are not assailed by Budweiser ads and stuff. This is all possible due to the dedication of Warren Hellman, a local zillionaire, who loves bluegrass music and other stuff too – this year the other stuff includes Elvis Costello, Richard Thompson and, playing on the unfortunately named Rooster Stage, Billy Bob Bragg.

The setting is one of the nicest I’ve ever played, the hills and hollows around Speedway Meadow are beautiful and the geography ensures that no noise leaks from stage to stage. Suffice to say, the fact that they didn’t have to pay for their ticket makes the audience most conducive to having a good time. My first appearance in the afternoon is as part of a song-writers workshop that includes Steve Earle and Guy Clark. We sit around and take it in turns to play songs.

I take the opportunity to do some tunes that I haven’t been playing live, starting out with Stetson Kennedy from Mermaid Avenue Vol 2 to commemorate the fact that Stetson, still alive and well and opposing the Klan, was celebrating his 90th birthday that weekend in Florida. Next time around, I sing a new song ‘Sing Their Souls Back Home’ (which had its genesis at a sound-check in Salisbury last April) followed by I Dreamed I Saw Phil Ochs Last Night. In the final round, I pull out Bush War Blues, which goes down a storm.

For my own set later in the afternoon, I use the acoustic guitar a little more than usual, playing The Space Race Is Over and finishing off with an encore of Willin and California Stars – what else could I play? Woody would have loved Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. At the aftershow party, I can’t resist getting up with the house band to do a bluegrass version of There Is Power In A Union.

Now I’m heading home, sitting in the back of a 747 somewheres over Hudson Bay, blogging long and hard to distract myself from the fact that the film playing in the cabin is The Devil Wears Prada.