If We Can't Escape, My Pretty

Quick post as I am in the middle of writing an article for the first time on something other than music, and it turns out its all about wine. Should be easier, except when I look at all my notes, they turn out to be a bit incoherent, I wonder why. Hoping to get it in New York Times in time for father's day (it's a first person essay about my father's obsession with wine) so wish me luck.

First let me make clear -- I’m okay. I've found that in the past few weeks everyone from professors, to friends, to acquaintances, to the security guard at my office keeps asking me if I'm okay. I'm either exuding pessimism or I look completely crazy. But trust me, I'm okay. It's just that time when I get a little bit stressed, but you know I live for this kind of pressure. So no need to worry, I'm quite happy the majority of the time, I swear.

I only made it to one of the three shows last night. I was scrambling to finish up some notes and various articles, so it was a nice outing. I walked past Arlene's Grocery to check out Last Week and noticed all the 14-year-old girls screaming, and knew I didn't want that kind of environment tonight. Made it to the wonderful El Jezel who played a rocking Monday night show, debuting a bunch of new songs from their recent recordings that should be out next month. The Mando Diao show was sold out, and I didn't get hold of the publicist until after El Jezel when I had already had my pint and was yawning (sadly it was only 10 o'clock, but I was exhausted.) She told me she'd hook me up for their date at Bowery next month, so I'm looking forward to that.

Another night, another show, I'll be heading around the corner to check out Louis XIV with Nic Armstrong at Bowery. Pictures and re-cap tomorrow.

Hey what's that? Is that the sun I see out? See, I told you I'm optimistic.