The Waiting Room 21.01.09
Well, kids, it’s been a strange old sleepless week & a bit. Of course, what with the Presidential pageant all a hoo-ing & a hah-ing at every turn, I managed to mince about pretty much unnoticed for the most part.
The weather has been atrocious to say the very least. Did I pack for ground frost? Torrential rain? Near hurricane-strength winds? Like fuck I did. Added to that, I’ve been averaging 2am to bed (a foldout in the livingroom of the rented space – sharing with 4 others) & 5.30am wake up calls.
Ed, my (un)usual USof travel companion, has insisted on cooking breakfast for us every morning at 5-cunting-am. The smell of slowly charring bacon has gagged me awake every fucking day – including my one & only day off. On Monday, at 6am, he set the smoke & fire alarms off in the whole apartment complex as he set fire to the electric oven hob with another of his dodgy homegrown concoctions.
The cooker was ruined &, as the rental is billed to my credit card, I’m expecting a sizable bill in the near distant to repair or replace. I’ll go into the finer details of our latest adventure on next week’s show.
So, then, to this week’s show, which has been done on the hoof, via laptop, as I flitted about the States like a ninny. There’s not so much chatter – I was knackered most of the time & the mic I had wasn’t up to much & I am to much of a tight arse to buy another just for one show – but the music more than makes up for it. Some of it, in my humble, is nothing short of astonishing.
Expect, then, many brand new tracks from as yet unreleased albums by the likes of: hillary & the democrats, brooke waggoner, little boots, anna kramer & the lost cause, pete & the pirates, meursault, babian, the welcome wagon, hurray for the riff raff, the cotton jones basket ride, andrew bird, plants & animals, raise high the roof beams, jolie holland, bobby bare jr., hari & aino, the kazoo funk orchestra, warpaint, climber, alela diane, anya marina, the decemberists, basket of figs, miss emily brown, ragged claws, clem snide, & samantha crain & the midnight shivers.
You know what to do.
The Waiting Room: Wednesday 21st January
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How come if the accomodation was booked to your credit card – you ended up with the fold-out sofa bed in the living room?
If I was making the reservation and providing the security deposit and credit card details so on, I’d make it clear to everybody else that I’d be the one having the master penthouse presidential suite with the balcony and jacuzzi and on-call escort service – and one of you other monkeys can have the poxy fold-out sofa bed and like it – so there.
That’s what I think anyway.
Because I am clearly a gentleman of the highest regard & you are an oaf
Actually, I volunteered to take the living room sofa bed because (a) I didn’t want to share a room with Ed (there were 2 beds per room, except in the main room which was taken by one of the others who was paying twice the amount to have a separate room/en suite) & (b) I could dictate the time everyone fucked off to sleep.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t dictate, no matter how much I tried, what time Ed woke up.
5am? What’s that?
Bedtime.
Early bedtime, round ours.