Music

Aaaaaaaaaaah, the inevitable let down. Not really, not completely, there’s just a ton going on. The record, the tour, mailers, running, work, work, work — oh yeah, don’t forget to eat! Life… you know. And all guitarless. Like an alcoholic without booze. Or a confessor without a priest. Fortunately, I have Beth Orton to keep…

Plane touched down at midnight. Was in Hell’s Kitchen by 1, asleep by 2. Snoozed and snoozed and snoozed the clock radio — NPR couldn’t stir me from my time zone-less sleep. I finally woke an hour shy of our morning news meeting, and raced in, pausing en route only long enough to buy a…

From 37,000 feet, American Airlines #164 is closing in on Newark Airport, and I’m closing in on home. I’m eating Red Vines, L.A.’s finest export, and thinking through the week… My time in California was, as always, transformative. I like to think of it as a view of things to come, as a volley across…

The beach was wide this morning, waves rolling slowly across the cool, flat sand. The marine layer was thick and low, but the sun fought its way through, throwing beams of warm morning light through the mist… Now, the weekend is dawning on Southern California. It’s all blues and greens and golden hour light. And…

I’ve been writing this song all week. Every morning when I run, every moment I have to myself, I hear this chorus in my head. It strikes me a “Summer’s Gone” part two. That is, it has a similar temperment: open, bright, uptempo, but tinged with loss and some strange sense of impending apocalypse. The…

36 hours in L.A., and I’m ready to quit working forever. I’ve been putting in long days that start with conference calls at 6:30, require meeting and greetings lots of new people, generally acting vaguely authoratative, working amidst the dull buzz of air conditioning, and… well, you get the idea. But it’s not the long…