Photos

Standing in the Roseland mezzanine looking down on Ryan Adams lurching and jerking beneath the strain of his ego’s creation, I was at once envious and contented: It’s just a few short steps from the Mercury Lounge to Roseland. Is it enough to come close? To know you have the songs, the band, the chops,…

The piledriver across the street woke me up at 7:15 a.m., exactly 3 hours and 45 minutes after climbing into bed. I walked to Starbucks for coffee (sorry, I’m a corporate wanker for supporting them, blah blah blah) and along the way came up with the theme song to my friend John’s new kids’ TV…

Here’s the Real World of a rock star: I take an empty cab home from the East Village through the rainy New York City streets; I hump my amp, two guitars and suitcase full of cables and CDs up four flights of stairs; now I’m wolfing down generic instant oatmeal. It’s 1:27 a.m. Tonight was…

It’s raining outside, epic rain, Ray Bradbury science fiction rain. The National Weather Service says it will taper off, but there’s no sign of that. It is Spring, evidenced by the yellow daffodils blooming near the Boat Basin, and by the red and purple crocusses sprouting along the horse path in Central Park. I ran…

After a punishing day at MTV News, I’m done with dinner and half way through “October Sky,” a film about a boy who sees Sputnik soar over his West Virginia coal town and dreams of building rockets. He goes on to escape the small town, and work for NASA. Very “Summer’s Gone.” It’s already wedged…

Spent my Saint Patrick’s Day mountain biking and hiking with my friend/bassist Jeff Domanski where he grew up in Sugarloaf, New York. We rode all afternoon, hiked Sugarloaf Mountain, then grabbed a beer and a burger at The Trading Post, a greasy spoon just north of the Bear Mountain bridge over the Hudson River. I…