Rock and Roll Scripture: It’s the last night of our tour, we’re gonna rock you through the roof just wait and see The Stray Cats

So there it is – the last gig. It sounded good from where I was standing. We finished ‘The Girl with Jesus in Her Eyes’ at the same time having made it through the ending without a hitch. On ‘St. Augustine’, Alex played some of the best guitar I’ve ever heard. Like, ever. Not just from him, from anyone. Like, ‘pull over on the highway to ride it out’-type quality. The folks got their money’s worth. We sold some CDs.

But I’m getting ahead of myself…

The day started easily. Our second night in the same place, the gig that evening in the hotel, we had half a day of leisure before set up and sound check. For ten straight days we’ve had to get up, get fed, and get driving to the next venue, but today we could relax in the Alps.

We rode a chair lift up the mountain, the view simply ridiculous. I have pictures, and I’ll likely post ‘em (or at least a link to the gallery containing them) once I get home and edit them properly, but I’m sure they’ll fail (utterly) to capture the scene. There was a little restaurant at the top of the lift, and we stopped in for a bite before setting off.

Hiking between seasons – before the tourists come and after the days have shortened – the trail was mostly quiet. The first stop on our hike was a small Alpine lake, nestled in a high mountain valley. This late in the year the valley only gets about an hour of direct sunlight, but it fought to make an appearance for us. The effect was spectacular – the peaks wearing a late-autumn halo, gazing down with benevolent detachment. As we crested the little rise that had obscured the small, just-frozen lake, Alex observed that Switzerland … tosses off stunning beauty like [the USA] throws up Starbucks. Too true. Again, I have pictures – they will not capture it.

Kevin continued down to the lake, ultimately laying down by the shore, while Alex and I scrambled up to a explore a shallow cave, really more a pock mark in rocky side of the mountain. About halfway up I realized it was a lot farther than it looked, and by the time I got to the cave I was sucking air. Alex paced it out at 169 paces, but those are ascending Alpine paces. I dreamed we were ancients, sitting on our haunches waiting for the elk, spears in hand (or maybe not even yet spears – maybe rocks, piled next to us in easy access), and stared to the skies.

From the lake we made our way down, down, down the mountain, through the tall pine forest, a dry, rocky creek bed winding its way down with us. We slipped on loose gravel and leaves, cursing them. We worried about our ankles, exhilarated in the activity, the thin mountain air, the view, and the break from ‘the one thing’. We were glad.

By the time we got back to the hotel, tired and hungry, we had a scant 90 minutes before setting up for the last gig. Filtzbach is just up the mountain from Mülehorn, Paul’s hometown, and he presided over the festivities, hovering for a bit before settling back to listen to the sound check. You sound tired…, he reflected.

And so we are, Paul, but (and returning, now, to the gig) tired like a day at the beach, 6 years old, falling asleep in the back seat… tired like 4:00am on my wedding night. We played quietly and beautifully, with ease and comfort. We played with our hearts full and broken, knowing that the tour was over. In only a few short hours we’d be back in the States, back to our jobs, back to our ‘other’ lives, our chosen lives, simultaneously (and paradoxically) glad and sad, the primary emotions simultaneously (and paradoxically) perfectly descriptive and woefully inadequate, this tour fading to sweet memory.

God, I wish I’d have been in the audience…

Set one

1. Black Money
2. Ballad of the Parted Ones
3. Gibsonton, FLA
4. No Place for the Lonely
5. Out of Time
6. The Girl with Jesus in Her Eyes
7. Cry for Home
8. Hark the Heart and the Arrow
9. I Am Carrying a Mournful Tune

Set two

1. Country Lines
2. Red Moshannon
3. Little Magnolia
4. Jealous Kind
5. Tijuana Line
6. Broken Heart Tattoo
7. I Want You (B. Dylan)
8. St Augustine
9. The Last Goodbye

Encore

1. I Still Miss Someone
2. Dead Flowers

And so now we’re traveling back. It’s about 7:30pm Switzerland time (though some other time completely wherever the hell I am right now – over the ocean, I suppose) – the first time in 11 days that we’re not relaxing before a gig (or, in my case, negotiating the pre-gig nerves and inexplicable sleepiness). It feels strange, though less strange that it did last time I was here, doing this. Hopefully tomorrow dawns with nothing more than a little jet lag – I’d rather not afford a full-blown identity crisis the morning of my first day at work, you know?

Damn, I miss it already…

Rock and Roll Scripture: Soon we’ll be away from here, step on the gas and wipe that tear away The Beatles

Penultimate gig and, honestly, I’m ready to be done. To be sustainable for any period of time I would have to structure a tour a little differently. Exhausting work, summoning up the commitment, night after night, gig after gig. I don’t think it helps that we’ve been playing the same sets (with a couple oddities thrown in for good measure), and I’d likely changed that approach first – maybe have 8-10 groups of 4-6 conceptually or tonally similar songs and mix them up. Ultimately, anything to break up this grind.

Even writing feels difficult right now. I mostly want to sleep and wake with no obligations for a couple days (at least) – I need to recharge. Funny – isn’t this supposed to be a vacation? Is it normal to want a break from your vacation?

I may publish this as is, or I may go back and edit it to include other pertinent details – the police check point on the way back from the gig, for example – I guess you’ll know when I do… In any event, here’s the set lists:

Set one

1. Black Money
2. Ballad of the Parted Ones
3. Gibsonton, FLA
4. No Place for the Lonely
5. Into Nothing
6. Out of Time
7. The Girl with Jesus in Her Eyes
8. Cry for Home
9. Hark the Heart and the Arrow
10. I Am Carrying a Mournful Tune

Set two

Solo acoustic

1. Seeds I’ve Sown (for Nadia et al)
2. Deportee (with Tabea)

The Trio

1. Country Lines
2. Red Moshannon
3. Little Magnolia
4. Jealous Kind
5. Jacqueline
6. Tijuana Line
7. Broken Heart Tattoo
8. I Want You (B. Dylan)
9. The Last Goodbye

Encore one

1. St Augustine (with Tabea)
2. I Still Miss Someone (with Tabea)

Encore two

1. Dead Flowers

We had time today to go for a hike in the Alps above Filtzbach and it felt great to get out of performer mode for a few short hours. There are pictures from our hike – ridiculous, completely fake-looking pictures – and I’ll likely post them when we get back. That little taste of simple tourism, however, is making it very hard to get up for the gig tonight.

Rock and Roll Scripture: It’s the last night of our tour, we’re gonna rock you through the roof just wait and see The Stray Cats

Tonight we play our last gig of the tour, and then the mad rush to the airport in the morning. Before I know it I’ll be on a plane home, where S waits for me, bless her heart. Thank you for making room for this in our lives together, sweetie – it’s hard, unsettling work but ultimately the experience is awesome.

i thought i would weigh in on this roaming narrative. i’m kevin, and i’ve been singing songs to her again. this lovely muse who hearkens to me, with her perfume and flashing eyes. why does she meet me here in these mountains? doesn’t she know how my heart breaks for her? it’s ok though, it’s ok. the meter is so lovely, so benign, and I am always in her debt.

last night, i dreamed i was in a train station. i was there on the platform, with my guitar and flowers. isn’t the quiet magnificent? the weight of the wind and her sweet repose about me. one train takes me to her and one train takes me away from her. hark the bleeding heart and the pierce of the arrow. i dreamed my vagabond heart broke and burned like a lovely little votive.

oh, i’ve been wandering aimless in the fruit trees again. wandering after her. i can hear the church bells ringing in the village and i am in another lifetime. doesn’t the time act strange when one is in love?

last night in stäffa, she was with me, there like a vineyard. i can never reconcile it; the way she kisses me and retreats again. i know i will chase her though. like modigliani did. and gaugiun too. and if i find her i will try and keep her with me, knowing this could never be. she laughs and says she has fallen in love with me, all over again. my beautiful little valentine. you slay me.

thank you, all of you who’ve come to listen. nadia, sweet stephanie and veronica. the lovelies from the university; andy and madlin who cooked for us americano in the morning. tom, your socialism and the golden albatross; michael and your comrades; the border patrol and the one who always blinds me with pictures. to peter, theresa and the young stephanie for dinner and drinks; thank you to the ones who sang the words as i forgot them. this is the way it has always been: love like the call and response of angels and mortals. one day i will return here, wherever this may be, and i will know you all by the way we hearken the earth and the vines together. if i am fortunate, i will see her again, there beneath the fruit trees, summoning me. and, i will, like many before me, succumb.

let your hearts be broken, my dear friends. sing as it breaks and you will be lifted into mystery. there is no better way to live but to die, every sweet and improbable moment. to her i go now, with my orchids and what i’ve been given. all for her, and more. love, kevin.

Madlene and Andy presided over the festivities last night, and Madlene cooked us a terrific meal, starting with a vegetable bisque that was, in a word, transcendent. Beautifully articulated, you could distinguish the vegetables and taste their freshness. Following that was a spicy beef stirfry served with fried rice and samosas – kind of an Asian mixed bag. The broth of the stirfry was hot, strong, and subtle, and it warmed us to the bone. Perfect for a crisp Swiss evening.

The show itself was another mixed bag. In 2009, Kevin and Alex played at a different venue hosted by these same folks and reported that the previous room was much better. This time around we played sideways across a long room (never a good thing – your head on a swivel just to see everybody), and though much of the modest crowd listened attentively, the table directly across from us mostly talked (loudly) through the songs. Weak. No matter, we rocked it but good.

Bianca, the young woman we met in Arosa last night, showed up with her mom, Gabrielle. Franz (reported by Bianca as ‘almost her boyfriend’) was notable in his absence. It’s always nice to see familiar faces (well, almost always), and we enjoyed a drink with them after playing. We also met another American musician, Beth, and her Swiss friend, Luka, and traded CDs and stories of our respective Swiss adventures.

Set one

1. Black Money
2. Ballad of the Parted Ones
3. Gibsonton, FLA
4. No Place for the Lonely
5. Into Nothing
6. Out of Time
7. The Girl with Jesus in Her Eyes
8. Cry for Home
9. Hark the Heart and the Arrow
10. I Am Carrying a Mournful Tune

Set two

1. Country Lines
2. Red Moshannon
3. Little Magnolia
4. Jealous Kind
5. Jacqueline
6. Lighter Shade of Grey
7. Tijuana Line
8. Broken Heart Tattoo
9. I Want You (B. Dylan)
10. St Augustine
11. I’ve Got a Line on You

Encore

1. I Still Miss Someone
2. The Last Goodbye

And so the tour nears the end. We’re counting the days now by the number of sets we have remaining – as of this writing (posting in real time, now) 4 sets left (plus encores). Stäffa tonight, and the promise of a good house and top-notch sound. At this point I’ll take anything that doesn’t involve having to schlep the PA around. We are all sincerely missing home now, this close to the end.

Before the gig yesterday we stopped in Chur to do laundry. Well, Alex did laundry and dispatched ‘The Meisels’ to their own devices. We wandered, both together and apart, and took in the old city, feeling nostalgic. I stumbled upon Werkstatt, the club Paul used to book in Chur and the first place I played with the boys in Switzerland, and from there the hotel where we stayed on that tour (my first) in 2005. A nice time to reflect on that trip and the others that have followed it before our final push. A nice time, also, to anticipate the return to our chosen lives.

I start a new job the Monday following our Sunday return. If it were me, and I were them, I’d have Googled the new hire (me) and likely found this blog. If so, then here’s a shout-out to Peter and the gang, both those I’ve met and those I’ll meet soon. I’m greatly looking forward to getting started and throwing myself into this new chapter. Just, you know, cut me a little slack those first few days – I’ll likely only be mostly myself.

I’ll be home soon, S, and I can’t wait to see you, missing you the way I have. Oh, but be warned… Alex has been kicking my butt at Cribbage here, and I’m thinking I’ve burned through a fair chunk of whatever ‘bad cards’ mojo I seem to have at the moment

Rock and Roll Scripture: I’ll be somewhere down the road turning into a memory Chris Mills

I have never heard of Arosa, even though it is apparently a ski destination of some reputation. Maybe Donald Trump knows about Arosa, but I’ve never heard of it. What I can say is this – the road ends in Arosa… completely. The only way to go farther up the mountain is by helicopter, and to go farther is to see the other side. The locals wear their active lifestyles with ease. The men are strapping and the women are athletic. Beautiful people in Arosa, make no mistake.

The road up was stunning and terrifying. A simple pine 4×4 passes for a guardrail here – seemingly suggesting that if you’re headed toward the edge with too much authority then it’s better to have you out of the gene pool entirely. Kevin did yeoman’s service on the drive as we putzed our way up the road being passed by everyone (like, everyone, at one point pulling over to let a delivery truck by).

Out gig today was as suggested, a crappy bar gig. Think sports bar. Our handler (as Alex calls them) had been a professional hockey player back in the day and the place was decked out in his (and his sons’) old gear. He seemed a nice enough fellow, eager to accommodate us (short of sharing the WLAN key), but the venue was something short of sympathetic to the musical stylings of the Kevin Meisel Trio (mit Keith Meisel und Axel Anest). If you have the record and have been following this blog then you may have some idea of how we went over. If you’re a gigging musician (or connected to one) then you already know the score. Basically we were the sound over which the patrons had to speak – the louder the song, the louder the voices. It was hard to hear anything, which was a bit of a drag, but we made it through ‘The Girl with Jesus in Her Eyes’ without a hitch (first time!), which was fun. Oh, and they were generous with the single malt Scotch.

Packing up after the second set, we were approached by a young woman, her beau in tow (not to mention a few other hopefuls), asking us “Please to play more?” No, sweetie… we are completely done here. After a few minutes of negotiation we settled on playing a couple tunes for just them, bare and acoustic. Single malt was provided, guitars and tambourines appeared and pretty soon all five of us were jamming, Bianca on a percussive box, Franz on another guitar, me on tambourine and harmonies. Fun stuff, the kind of spontaneous thing that breaks up the ‘get up, drive, play, sleep, repeat’ cycle and makes for the icing on this already rich, delicious cake we’re eating.

Set one

1. Black Money
2. Ballad of the Parted Ones
3. Gibsonton, FLA
4. No Place for the Lonely
5. Into Nothing
6. Out of Time
7. The Girl with Jesus in Her Eyes
8. Cry for Home
9. Hark the Heart and the Arrow
10. I Am Carrying a Mournful Tune

Set two

1. Sweet Jane
2. Country Lines
3. Red Moshannon
4. Little Magnolia
5. Jealous Kind
6. Queen of the Mardi Gras
7. Tijuana Line
8. Broken Heart Tattoo
9. I Want You (B. Dylan)
10. The Last Goodbye

Encores

No encores, per se, but our short jam session went as follows:

1. Dead Flowers
2. I Still Miss Someone
3. Words of Love
4. Mei Vata haf an Marihuanabam (Led by Franz, sung by him and a good chunk of the bar)
5. Old Shoes and Picture Postcards
6. Uf der Alpe Dobe (Franz und Bianca)

The prevailing opinion was that this gig was ‘Awesome’, but the sampling size was, admittedly, very small. We had a couple return visitors at this gig – Veronika and Stephanie took us up on the invitation we extended to them while in Innsbruck. And, after all, we had a debt to repay…

I like Alte Mühle and our host, Ritchie, took very good care of us. That said, Alte Mühle is first and foremost a restaurant, and the crowd was split between those there for the music and those decidedly not there for the music. Unfortunately, the latter crowd mostly hung out in the back, talking loudly by where my flip video camera was set up – it may be interesting as a historical document, but it’s not suitable for release.  Too bad.

We all fractured a bit at this show, sitting just after the halfway point in the tour. Kevin flubbed the lyrics to ‘Gibsonton, FLA’, scrambling to make them up until he re-caught the thread, I missed a tune on the set list, starting ‘Hark the Heart and the Arrow’ when the others were starting ‘Cry for Home’, and at a later point Alex looked around, confused, asking “What is happening?” The wheels are definitely falling off a bit now, though I’m not sure that anybody outside our little triad would know it. The music is still good, our hands honed now to a fine edge from nightly playing – only our brains aren’t working correctly.  Thankfully there is still only one thing to think about.

Set one

1. Black Money
2. Ballad of the Parted Ones
3. Gibsonton, FLA
4. No Place for the Lonely
5. Into Nothing
6. Out of Time
7. The Girl with Jesus in Her Eyes
8. Cry for Home
9. Hark the Heart and the Arrow
10. I Am Carrying a Mournful Tune

Set two

1. Sweet Jane (for Stephanie)
2. Country Lines
3. Red Moshannon
4. Little Magnolia
5. Jealous Kind
6. Jacqueline
7. Lighter Shade of Grey (for Stephanie)
8. Tijuana Line
9. Broken Heart Tattoo
10. I Want You (B. Dylan)
11. Queen of the Mardi Gras (for Stephanie)
12. St Augustine

Éncore

How many more songs shall we play? None more. So there’s that.

The following morning… Right now I’m overhearing Alex having a conversation with an enthusiastic German speaker. The guy sounds very pleasant and excited to try his English out with Alex. Alex is Alex. The causal stream choreographs all he currently is while simultaneously preventing him from being anything else. Another person, another conversation with another German speaker. Sounds like maybe Richie, Who know? Oops. Confirmed. Alex says (to Kevin (they’re sharing a room)) “We just got 150 Euro from last night…” [Kevin, unheard, responds, presumably about CD sales and then] “Yeah, we sold six, I think.” The days roll on.

Somebody practicing drums downstairs. Alex asks “Do you hear that? He was telling me about it a little while ago – says he takes drum lessons at the largest drum school in Europe… his teacher used to play with Johnny Cash…” Nice articulation and dynamics on the snare, but he’s either still learning or he’ll never be any good to anyone as his time is mushy. Whatever. Play for the joy or don’t play.

Playing is joy. There is no real concern for the audience anymore – not directly. I don’t play or not play for them. They’re here for their own reasons and I didn’t agree to whatever terms they may have for me. Everything I feel, from the nerves before the gig to my embarrassment when I play a clam to the build up, excitement, and culmination of a song nailed, I feel for me. I am glad for them if they are happy – if they clap – but all that is on them. A week on the road and there are already too many people for me to distinguish (apart from a few that distinguish themselves, and the calculus of distinguishibility is too complicated to go into here… maybe another post (and even then I’d only be able to offer specific circumstances, anecdotes if you will, of distinguishibility - the science eludes me…)).

The songs are loose now, well broken in. Sometimes I sing, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I come in with the band, sometimes I wait a few lines, a verse. Like I said before, it is more interpretative now. Playing back to back to back like we are, the same sets, the same songs, night after night, the actual playing is no longer the issue. We all still make mistakes, but it’s different, now. I’ll play the minor third (instead of the minor 6th) now and again, and at least one of us will screw up the coda of ‘The Girl with Jesus in Her Eyes’, but the recovery is quick and it’s all under the bridge by the next measure.

Today we drive to Arosa, high in the Alps (not that we’re not high in the Alps right now, mind). ‘A bar gig’ is how it’s been described, but, as Kevin said to Paul last night, “That’s fine Paul. We don’t even notice anymore.”

… and I’m struck by how much I miss the wife at home