Monday, June 10, 2019

A Week in New York

It's pouring down with rain and it's cold. There is time to reflect on last week before I leap back into work again...
Thanks to United Airlines food, I spent the first 24 hours either asleep or throwing up into the bin in my room at the YMCA. No sinks, no water vending machine. I hd to ferry cups of water back from the shared bathrooms, which at least weren't too busy this time. I was too sick even to go out to buy painkillers, but thankfully it passed and I was able to start exploring.

First proper day, I got the Subway to the Bronx but it was a desert of sadness like many other deprived parts of US cities. The flip side is always thus. I can see how it is beyond any politician's imagination to make any of this better, but making it worse? That's perverse.

I went back into town and spent the evening in Central Park watching the dog walkers, the birds and the joggers. Park life is universal, and somehow timeless. Change the century, change the location, change the clothes people wear; it's not surprising people find them to be peaceful places.
Central Park is such a huge and beautiful park and it smells heavenly after the rain, which most days happened before dawn.

On Tuesday I met Tom Greenwood for a coffee; we recorded two and a half albums and an EP together back in the day, as well as the Saturday Night With The London Set single last year. Tom's a remix and library music producer now, and also a Dad. He's a good pal and it was great to catch up with him and I'm looking forward to seeing him and his family when they move back to Yorkshire.

One of the things I have come to love about New York is it's wanderability. To my shame (perhaps) I haven't been in a single art gallery there. It's the streets that I love: hopping on the Subway and emerging at random places. That's what I did last year on the first visit and although I had much less time this year, it still felt like the best thing to do. I accidentally ended up at the High Line again and walked it for a while before the mid-day heat became overpowering, and I slipped down into the shady streets.

One day, I decided to go to Harlem to check out The Apollo Theatre, but didn't stay there long.
I walked past a group of men and one of them said 'I like that bitch!'.
That's a great way of getting rid of a bitch!
Next time I'll go there with someone else instead of on my own.

I went to Chelsea Market and bought some socks with Sumo Wresters on them.

My friend Jane Abernethy invited me to sit in on a meeting of women A&R people from both major and independent labels. It was fascinating, and a real privilege to be there; I loved the universal sigh at the '...but my friends say...' response to the artists mixes of songs! We had a good yak afterwards in an Italian restaurant and it was a great spontaneous meet-up. Next time too, please!

Thursday was the work day: a gathering at Fordham University of academics and journalists who have written articles on our favourite tracks. More about it all another time, but what a blast to sit around a table with the chap who started the Hanson fan club, amongst others! It was intense, fun, informative and oddly bonding. We all went out for dinner afterwards and shared rock'n'roll stories, political horror stories and a lot of bonhomie.

Friday, I went back to SoHo and wandered around watching the world go by. It felt too early to be going home but the My Kinda Pop! gig was the next day. Newark International Airport: ugh.
Lifts not working, travelators not working, toilets out of order. But at least there were some rogue sparrows darting about to relieve the tedium.

Both on the way there and on the way back, I sat next to in-plane chatterboxes. This was massively entertaining, but it meant I only got one hour's sleep one the way there, and one hour's sleep on the way back. I am now living proof that you can survive for days on stupidly tiny amounts of sleep, but I think it's sensible to avoid doing anything too important today. I have already made one slip-up, but Work will have to wait until tomorrow, when my soul has caught up with my body.

It's still somewhere in the mid-Atlantic, floating around happily on a burnished cloud.

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