Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Why the London tube is so damn hot?

You can hardly breathe. Well, except the Picadilly line, is really a living hell. In a two wonderful sunny breezy days in London, you cant understand why once you are two meters inside the London tube, the temperature is like in a living hell. And not the tube alone. My hotel: same thing, damn hot. This theatre I went to see Shawn Colvin: fucking hot.
Hey London town, is a cool September month, not January yet…

Shawn Colvin is a nice girl; when I met her in her hotel for our interview, she appeared also definitely cool: cigarettes and coffee, a look in her eyes like a sort of female Keith Richards. She went through quite a lot in her life, after all. Cant say the same about her concert: kinda of surviving the 60s folk revival… She was great, tho, when she told about that time she was opening for Sting (while telling this, she was tuning her guitar): “I was opening for him, alone, and this damn guitar was getting out of tune every night… One day Sting told me: why don’t you buy a tuner?. That fancy ass… He told me that not in the dressing room, just me and him alone… No. he told me so in the hotel hall, in front of a dozen of people… So, Sting… do you ever saw Bob Dylan with a guitar tuner, sitting on Washington Square? Or did you ever saw Charlie Parker with a tuner? Keep your tuner for yourself”. Or something.

Always great to take a walk down through Soho. And Denmark Street, where in the early 60s there was that little studio where the Stones recorded some of their early stuff.. I never saw a drums shop. Yes, a shop devoted in selling drums only, in Denmark Street, between about ten guitars shops. I was tempted to buy that drums set with the The Beatles logo on it. And all the great bookstores around the corner. And cds as well. So I was asking to this guy dressed like he was in a Franz Ferdinand videoclip: “Do you have any Bob Dylan’s super audio cds?”.
“Super audio cd? Is that the title of the Bob Dylan’s cd you are looking for?”. Yes sure.

Nevermind, Virgin megastore, and I got a copy of Desire SACD, right in time before the 30th anniversary of this majestic album will come to an end. It was the only Dylan’s SACD still available. And while I was there in the Dylan section, a 50 years old gentleman took a copy of Dylan’s Modern Times. There was a laugh behind us. A sorta of 17 year old punk with orange hair like a Mohican was laughing: “Dad, a Bob Dylan’s album?”. That’s it. Now you know who buy Bob Dylan’s cds and sacds. .

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