conversationalist

now playing: america, “children”

it’s quarter to three in the morning, and wendy and i are home, sitting at our parallel desks in the living room…she’s reading the news from home and i’m eating ice cream to soothe the needles and razors in my throat from the gig earlier tonight. my voice held out just long enough – by the time the end of the fourth set rolled around, i was just screaming to be heard, but it was great. we were able to play at a comfortable volume – loud enough to fill the room, but not so loud that we were pounding each other into submission….

donnie and i had a great night. we were totally in sync for most of the night. the circuit is beginning to open up there, without the preliminary work that i had assumed would be needed for it to happen. we haven’t really had any opportunities yet to work out some of the parts that i’m looking forward to nailing down, and it dawned on me tonight that maybe this is a good thing – we’re developing a rappore without forcing it, and that’ll make it easier to sit down and work out stuff like that once we have time to do that.

everyone was in such great spirits tonight…it really was a great gig.

one of the officers of the club came up to me personally between the second and third sets and told us that we were the best band that he’d seen there in the eighteen years he’d been coming there.

fuck.

wendy asked me on the way home how i would describe what it was that she saw taking place when donnie and i were playing and we fell into sync the way we’re starting to.

i thought about it for a while, and the only analogy i can really come up with was being in a country where no one spoke english, and you could only vaguely understand a word here or there, and then bumping into someone who speaks english and being able to have a real conversation.

that’s pretty close.

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