Burn-Out at the Mog-Bar

I wasn't going to post anything and allow my vacation to end on a quiet note, but I wanted to let you know that I turned 32 years old today in a hotel bathroom in Paris. As Dan Hamill was quick to point out via SMS message...it was all quite Jim Morrison. Also, I had a conversation with a friend about Jesus, but neither of us, despite being catholic, could figure out if he was 32 or 33 when he died. I guess I should see more Mel Gibson movies. I get the longest birthday ever thanks to the time difference as I started in Paris but am back in NYC.

Our Holiday abroad was great fun. Irene took to Europe like it was nobody's business and in the great tradition of G and Matt, she would direct me around various museums, historical sites, etc that I had no clue about despite being in both London and Paris many times each. When it comes to film/music and finding good places to eat, I am a focused machine, but anything else, I usually need a minder. She made this trip very carefree for me as all I had to do was find places to eat and watch some gigs and turn 32.

I'll give you some brushstrokes:

*London remains one of my favourite places on earth, but for fucks sake, must everything close so early? Eating Pizza Hut in a hotel room in Russell Square because everything else was shut down was not nearly as rock n roll as I hoped.

*We had a bathroom in London bigger than the hotel room itself. However, an in-room electric teapot meant I was mainlining the good strong tea on a frightening basis (here at home, the Lipton aint cutting it all of a sudden).

*We saw Greg Dulli and his Twilight Singers play one of the best gigs I think I will ever see in my life. If you can see a gig at London's Scala, run don't walk, as this venue owns. Nice, spacious and modern. We had a great spot that gave us a perfect view with lots of room (and the gig was packed). I was sober, Dulli was stoned and sharing his joint with the crowd and the gig was so goddamn impressive that I didn't give a fuck that I was missing Vincent Gallo play New York.

*The night after above mentioned amazing show, we caught up with my Chemlab cohort Mr. Louche and checked out Primal Scream at Shephards Bush. I love the Scream and this gig was a defining moment. The crowd was NUTS. I left covered in sweat, beer and spit (none of which was my own). Until this I thought the Scream had put on some masssive gigs, but on thier own turf they are animals. Plus, kevin Shields was back with them. Life changing gigs two nights in a row. For you NME readers, I had celeb sightings before the gig, including crackwhore Libertine Pete Doherty (who opened the gig, more on him in a minute) and Spiritualized crackhead Jason Pierce who got out of a cab complete with cool brown leather shirt and underfed hot British chick who was rubbing her red nose. And then of course my man, my hero, MANI (former roses now primals and in Frank Jeffrey DeSanto's top 3 all time influential bassists) made a big energetic arrival at the gig by shoving his tongue down a young female fan's throat outside the venue. She was a HAPPY fan. I dont get too starstruck, and someday I'll tell you about G's and my encounter with Mani in NYC years back, but he as the crowd chanted: SHOW ME THE MANI. That sums him up. He is the the dogs bollocks.

*If you lived in London, you would think that the Clash half asses the Libertines were the biggest planet on Earth. Short version of the story is this: two dudes start a band, one has a drug problem he cant seem to rehab and becomes a tabolid darling. On the eve of their career defining album, the other kicks him out of the band and wont let him back till hes clean. The problem is that the drug addict is better solo and the clean one in the dude blows without this guy (sorta like Kevin nash without Scott Hall). Anyhow, I hope this guy doesnt die, but hes really fucking good (check out Pete Doherty's song FOR LOVERS, which is excellent). The Libertines? Eh.

*The band I left London in love with, though I only heard one song, are Kasabian, who could be the new primals. Young, fierce, baggy and electronic. My eyes are on these guys.

*Sat with the Louches and Gilez Armalyte, one of my favourite Brits ever, for a lunch that Gilez picked up the tab for. I think he might get a record out of me and Jared at some point just for that. Seeing Mr. and Mrs. Louche was a treat and a half. it was a blast and I want to thank them publically here for making the effort to see us (and sorry about the parking ticket!) Meanwhile, Gilez is working now with Robert at Digital Brothel, which I think makes Gilez the aggression's UK record boss. Don't tell him that though. However, he and I had a bunch of drinks while Irene shopped and he is great company.

*David Cross is much funnier live in another country than he is on TV. Being 3 feet away from him while he compares British and American cultures helps.

*The Streets (the white hip hop British dude) are huge in Europe and that fucking song of his is so depressing I want to jump out the window. Unfortunately, I can't get it out of my head and am downloading it now. LEGALLY, asshole.

*The US dollar blows. Discs, my only vice, were too much so I focused on singles for new bands and have no ordered albums off of amazon Uk for half the price.

*I read a whole book for the first time since college. I had finished Kris Needs Primal Scream bio before I left (really good book) and on the various plane rides I read the new official Suede bio, which is nothing short of super. A little too Brett focused, but solid. It ends on a good note that they will do a new album, but they have since broken up. I guess thats in the paperback. I was hoping to read the whys of that.

*The Eurorail from London to Paris is simply the fucking BEST. Go first class. Trust me. The Best. EVER. We actually wanted another hour on this thing.

*Paris remains wonderful. i won't bore you with the details as they were less Rock N Roll than needs to be stated, but we ate well, slept a lot and ate shitloads of crepes. We made lots of new friends and will be back.

*However, unlike our experience on the train, the DeGaulle Airport sucks. Poor layout, idiot people. Gate changes up the wazoo and if i was a security guy, I would search Irene as many times as possible, but the amount of terrorist checks this chick went through today was mental. I don't suppose it was cause she's a hot Asian wearing a KILL ALL HIPPIES T-Shirt, is it?

*The random Olympic games are the funniest thing ever. Do they show the event called HANDBALL here in the states? It's so bad I couldnt stop watching it. Its the handball youre thinking of. Its BAD. The French RULE in this game. Dodgeball has to happen at an Olympic. It has to. Watching the Olympics is the best in a foreign country

*For the record, if an American tells you the French are rude, they are full of shit. The only rude people we encountered were Americans. I have never been so embarassed by some of the shit I have seen thank to dumb travelling Americans. When the French hear we are from New York, they feel a kinship. As I always say: There's New York and then there's the United States of America. Embarassing!

*Speaking of Rude, lets go back to the asshole who, on this very blog in a comment somewhere below, told me I suck and should die. All I will say is this: Bitch, I will do more before my next birthday than you will do in your whole life. In the mighty words of Mani: "I was born to have it and have it I shall". And you, anonymous coward, will have nothing. I pity your inibility to live. Monkey, I wrote SWEETEST SOUL, and you've done......I thought so

*Speaking of NOT Rude, some nice people were giving me props on the Chemlab board the same day the above asshole was wishing me death. This made my day thank you.

*Also speaking of NOT rude were the family and friends who E-mailed, posted (especially on the Cracknation Board), sms's or called with birthday wishes today. I'm flattered and appreciate all your kindness.

Special thanks regarding this trip go out to Chad, Matt (the gadgets came in handy!), the Louches (thanks for picking up the primals tix, J), Gilez, Little Jack, Xavier, the guy at the crepe place, the guy at the hotel in paris who was a riot. I'm sure there's more, I'm just exhausted.

Now I am a fucking BEAT. More later.

F