Having already heard before leaving England that Bill C was doing an in-store to promote his new album (refer to hysteria on earlier post), I'd made it a priority to check in at Other Music when I hit NY, so I knew how this would work (Rough Trade give out wristbands for their in-store stuff...no wristband, no entry). Turns out a lovely redhead called Chris had given me all the right info. "Get here before 8pm when we close the store, get straight inline outside, at 9pm we open the doors and let about the first 100 people in. Don't be late!"
On the evening, LouLou and I got to Other Music at about 7.15pm (OK, so what if I'm keen?). Wise move, ladies. Queue ALREADY. About 15 people long. Jesus. I spot the ginger gentleman Chris, and he smiles, cos I think he thinks it's funny that I'm there so early. I tell him I'm not ashamed and ready an' willin' to stand around for nearly TWO HOURS. Honest to god, I have never waited this long for any artist before in my entire life. You'd better be good, sir...
So lucky - we go back outside, and the queue has just reached a small flight of steps, so we get a seat! Oh yes, all was looking bright. And then LouLou's friend Michael turned up. I've never met him before, and he is the most charming and interesting man, with excellent taste in music (and hats - he had a new felt hat on, bought by his wife Judy - very smart). LouLou kindly went off to buy coffees, and Michael went inside to buy vinyl. I sat tight - like I'm moving one inch and giving my place up? Get outta here! (I seem to have slipped into some sort-of newyorkspeak - think of it as scene setting...). They return and there's chat, laughs and queue-watching. The beard/check shirt uniform quota is rather high. Queue is by now HUGE and it's only just 8pm. One hour to lift off.
At 9ish, true to Chris's word, the doors opened and we got inside. Other Music isn't a huge store. For anyone who knows it, it's not much bigger than Rough Trade in Covent Garden. We got pretty good spots close to the front (sadly, it transpired I had some nodding-dog idiot with a baseball cap on BACKWARDS in front of me, but no matter). Michael got us beer from the counter (hooray for PBR).
And then, he appeared. A soft-faced vision of long, thick, greasy, grey-haired loveliness. And he sang and played like a dream. Honestly, I was transfixed. I think my mouth may have been a bit open, in a lovesick gormless way. And although he played for well over an hour, it seemed to be over in seconds. (He played quite a few off the new album 'Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle' - Jim Cain, Rococo Zephyr, All Thoughts Are Prey To Some Beast, Faith Void and more, more, more).
Snap: The Lovely Michael Taylor©And then, he stopped. I didn't want him to (really? honestly, what a surprise). LouLou had had to go outside - it was unfeasibly hot in there - so Michael and I went out to find her. But I wanted to speak to him, so after hugging Michael goodbye, I left LouLou at the door and went back inside. The crowd was starting to thin out by now, but people were still asking for things signed, pictures taking...but then I caught his eye - and all the things I'd wanted to say washed away. So, there was no 'you know we were meant to be together, let's run away to the seaside and live in a little shack near the beach' speech, followed by him whisking me up in his arms and carrying me off. I could only blurt "you are the finale of my trip to America and it was perfect, thank you", to which he replied "thank you" and then I said "I have to go" and rushed off, definitely blushing, idiot that I am. He did give me the sweetest smile, though. Shame I didn't get to sit on his knee as he played...
Second bill of the week (apart from the pile of bills that I can't pay which eagerly awaited my return on the doorstep) was Bonnie 'Prince' Billy at the Southbank on Monday. I arrived back on Monday morning, did a few chores, knew I should try and stay awake, but I curled up for 'just 5 minutes, go on, it'll be fine' and woke up 5 hours later, dazed and confused. Popped out to meet the Brummie and Ralph the dog for coffee and a chinwag (no chinwag from Ralph, just tailwag), then off down to the Thames to meet Nadine.
This isn't the first gig I've been to with Nadine since her husband Mark died. We'd been to see Vic Chesnutt and Elf Power a few weeks earlier, which was the first time I'd seen her since the funeral. Last year, Mark had given me a BPB album when we discovered that we both liked him. Shortly before he died, he'd bought two tickets for him and Nadine. I was honoured that she asked me to go with her.
It was such a lovely evening. Had a great chat with Nadine beforehand, watched the support Susanna (very good, but last night I went to see Essie Jain and I much prefer her stuff), and then Nadine had a quick smoke outside before we went back in. I suddenly realised I hadn't eaten all day (WHAT??? WHY???), so I got a savoury muffin, spinach and pinenuts or sawdust and pinenuts, it was so bloody disappointingly dry and awful.
And then the main attraction. He is jaw-droppingly good. His band are so tight, and he is animated, charming, and can do the best balance-on-one-leg-whilst-playing-a-guitar I've seen in a long time. Or, in fact, ever. His lyrics are witty, raucous, poignant, so many things. And for the first time in a long time, I cried properly at a concert. He played "I See A Darkness". And I'm filling up again just thinking about it. I'd been expecting it, dreading it, but when it came, it was more powerful than even I'd imagined.
And to hear those words, standing next to a good friend, standing in the place where her husband who loved BPB as much as she did should be standing was just a bit too much for me. And I didn't need to look round to know how she felt hearing that song. He sang it just so beautifully. When it was over, I just gave her a big hug. I had no idea what else to do.
