Private party at an art collective in the lower east side

I went to an odd private party in an art collective with to many old people wearing fancy, crazy clothes.At the end of the party I got to know the hosts - austrians, I heard talking German. I talked to Otto for a while. "So, Lars what are you doing here in NYC?" "Well, I just visit friends here. I studied at UConn this semester." "Oh awesome. Wasn't it great, was it?" "Well, it wasn't. It sucked. It's a college bubble." "Oh, yeah, yeah. I heard about that."
I wanted to ask "Oh, really? How is that?" That may be a fine example of the nature of conversation in the art scene. It's not so much about getting to know each other, but rather confirm anything your interaction partner says. Apparently, affirmation on the surface and getting connected is the goal of talking. Thus, conventiently Otto concluded our talk saying "Oh, well, this is our experience. It is your worthy posession that no one can take away from you. In the end you have to succeed in life and job by working hard anyway." This was said by a realtor, the artist's patron...

Ghost city, St. Louis blues, and dinosaur foot rest

I don't know why but St. Louis is the city I liked most during my trip. Maybe it is the concentration of beautiful historical buildings and lot of pubs and bars in downtown that creates a very urbanian flair that makes me feel comfortable. Two digital companions in the city park aside, I was almost wandering around alone in downtown on a rainy, windy and cold sunday. It was the thanksgiving weekend and the city was like a ghost city. Solitude is a blessing as long as it doesn't last forever. The Arch was a blast. The panorama view on St. Louis' skyline was nice and the ride to the top of Arch felt like a trip with a space capsule.
Though St. Louis is known for having great Blues and Jazz venues there wasn't a lot of stuff going on because of Thanksgiving. But I made it to a Blues show at "The Beale on Broadway" named after the famous the Beale Street of Memphis where heroes like B.B. King and Howlin' Wolf played. The venue is nice and presents live show seven days a week. In the concert break I talked to one of the musicians who wrote me down some good stuff of Howlin' Wolf, Jimmy Reed and Muddy Water to listen to. He also offered me to mail records from St. Louis to Berlin if I need some. I have a record dealer in St. Louis now!

Stephanie my couchsurfing host borrowed me her bike on my last day in St. Louis. I drove around in Forest Park which was nice but must be beautiful in spring and summer. Generally, it was shitty, rainy and cold weather in St. Louis and my ice cold fingers died many times the day. This is mainly the reason why I also have been almost alone on The Loop which is said to be one of the greatest streets in the States with lots of nice bars, cloth shops and live music venues. So I just made it to Cicero's great bar with 200 different beers and ate at Delmar Restaurant and Lounge a great Cajun fish with wild rice. After Stephanie and me had met for a beer we drove back home in the rain and got completely soaked. It was a hell ride but fun though. I treated my ice cold feet with dinosaur foot rest...

Honky Tonk, Thanksgiving Football and Food Coma, and sweet Melissa Mathes

I had high expectations about Nashville before my arrival. Being said both to be the city of music and to be like New York but with nice people I presumed to find a vivid and wild city. But reality is always somewhat different. It is true music is everywhere in Nashville at least at music road with all the country music bars. Great country and bluesgrass bands play there every night. It is cool but Broadway is like Bourbon Street in New Orleans and Beale Street in Memphis very touristic. That is why you see usually many older people and less young people there what it makes more difficult to get connected someone. But still, Hank Williams tunes are played a lot which compensates. In the Museum of Country Museum I learned a lot about the origins and development of Country music and I saw the original guitar of Hank and the mandolin of Bill Monroe the inventor of Bluegrass.

Beyond music road it was way more difficult to get connected with Nashville's music scene. Having some music videos of the Kings of Leon in mind, I wanted to attend some dive bars to hang out until dawn. But Nashville is very much spread out which makes it difficult to come around without a car. Fortunately, my buddy Nathan lend me his car for friday, which gave the chance to spend a day and night completely free in Nashville. Indeed, I had my own mobile Jazz cafe for one day. It was such a blessing! So I made it to a area in  East Nashville called five points in the evening. I attended a open air concert at The Green Wagon shop and had a drink at the The Three Crows bar. I moved to five spots and fell in love with Melissa Mathes' live performance. I was attracted by the band's great bluesy vocal jazz performance with her cute but wide range strong voice, the graceful piano and the sweat saxophone. It was my first vocal jazz concert ever though I might be not objective, but Melissa's indulging sound combined the cheekiness of Anita O'Dea with Lady Day's nobility. I got her CD of popsongs for free but can't wait  for a CD of the Jazz songs she performed...

THANKSGIVING. My buddy Nathan took me a traditional thanksgiving custom on the morning of Thanksgiving - playing football. I always considered myself to be gifted for any ballroom. Football is definitely not a game for me. I made some good catches of flags in the defense but have been almost completely inactive in offense with one of three at all passes completed. But I was fun anway and I played against a professional quarterback who plays for the Titans, who is indeed just a machine. After football I attended two thanksgiving dinners. I love the familiar and secure atmosphere of that feast and the food. Being stuffed by turkey, gratin, gasserole, apple pie and chocolate cake I suffered food coma. Still I just love Thanksgiving. My stay in Nashville was also very much about much. A stay at Monsell's in Nashville's Germantown preceded Thanksgiving;  a Tennesse pork shoulder jumbo burger conclued the food mania.

194 live music shows in Nashville tonight but I have to move on to St. Louis the gate to the west...

Blues and Elvis in fucked up Memphis

My welcoming was very warm as I stayed with Larissa and Kathryn whose cat loved to cuddle with my shoes and my bags.

My impression of the people in the south being extraordinary friendly was confirmed. During my bartour in Midtown I had in each venue nice and interesting conversations with locals. At Huey's I slammed a burger and listened to some live Blues music. I met David there a 65 year old men with a deeply smoky laugh who gave me some nice tips for venues and sights in Memphis and Nashville providing me continously with cigarettes. At Murphy's I got into a nice conversation with David II who works for the international children's heart fund. We had some beers, talked about German's mentality and he gave me an interesting insight into American ciziten's political soul with regard to the unpopular political plans and decisions of President Obama. At Buccaneer's I met Todd who just came back from a concert tour in Europe where he played in Magnet, Berlin and Reeperbahn, Hamburg.

The other face of Memphis is way more crazy. When I took a one hour walk from midtown to Stax Museum I felt very uncomfortable. In fact, I was afraid of getting robbed by any African American that I met on the street who said "how you doing" or just nod with his head when I passed. It is not that I am a racist, but because of the warning of Memphis' locals I was suspicious and very much alert wherever I have been in Memphis. Indeed, the bus shuttle driver that gave me a ride from Sun Studio back to Beale Street mentioned that he even would had gone to Stax Museum by walk because of the unsafe neighborhood around there. Furthermore, though being just five blocks away from Beale Street, Sun Studio highly advised against walking recommending to take the bus shuttle instead. Despite the general achievements of the civil rights movement which found it sudden end with Dr. Martin Luther King's assassination, Memphis exemplifies the maintenance of symbolic racism through social inequality and segregation in neighborhoods. Memphis is definitely a fucked up city.

But there is also Blues and Sun Studio's. Beale Street is a very popular, touristic place that is comparable to Bourbon Street in New Orleans. The difference is that Beale Street has way more great live music to offer. I just made it to a show of the B.B King Allstars. But it was a incredible show with great nice blues tunes and powerful soul numbers. I loved it. There is live music every night at almost every bar at Beale Street. Memphis is also the home of Sun Studios the record label invented by Sam Phillips who discovered Elvis and made big B.B. King, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis and Jonny Cash. Memphis is where Rock'n'Roll was developed and I even touched carefully and devoutly the microphone in the studio that these great musicians used. People say it wears Elvis DNA. Wuuuuuuh!

Good stories need antics. I have to report that I got thrown out from the Hi-Tone bar at my last night in Memphis. I was with some of my friends there and met some random people. I bought some beers and hung out in the smoking room that is actually the staff and v.i.p. room. The beer was one dollar anyway and I remembered the can of budweiser I had in my bag. Being not calculating but somewhat thoughtless I drank my own beer. When the bartender told us that he wants to close I went with the crowd to the bar room and put my beer on the bar saying "So folks what is still going on tonight in Memphis". The barkeeper took my bear and throw against the wall behind him saying that I couldn't drink my own beer. I was completely shocked and tried to fix things saying that this is misfortune. He just said, "Leave my bar now. Right Now!" smashing a baseball bat on the bar. That was convincing enough and I left. Memphis is cool but also a strange city...

New Orleans II: „Baby“ and Jazz, Jazz, Jazz

On my last day in New Orleans, a friday, I walked again through the French quarter and treated my hangover with a Pimm's Cup at Napoleon House, a cool, old furnitured restaurant/bar with a beautiful backyard and fair prices for beverages. The treatment worked well making me up for walking around in the French Quarter. There is a lot more stuff going on at daytime on the weekend with many bands playing live music on the street. I headed to the fancy Louis Armstrong park which reopened the day before. The entrance gate there make you feel like entering a fun park. For sure, the only reason to go there is the huge statue of Louis Armstrong on whose leg I was hanging like a small boy on the daddy. Generally, I felt pretty much home in New Orleans because of its locals warmth and friendliness and the woman calling me „baby“ with a warm, maternal voice when speaking to me. People in the South seem to be nicer and more curious and I had many nice small talks with random local people. 

In the late afternoon I headed to Frenchmen Street New Orlean's best place for live music. I checked all bars and clubs asking for tonight's program. Incidently, I made it to a free jazz concert of a young band playing sweat cool standards like Blue in Green of Bill Evans. I enjoyed the music a lot and got absorbed by the mellow but piercing sounds creating a feeling of sweat, intense loneliness that makes Jazz so special. This show was the perfect introduction for the live show at Snugg Harbour. Eli's Marsalis Quartet played there featuring his sons. Eli played a tender but decent piano part. Jason Marsalis is a biest on the drums playing bouncing, powerful rhythms with the sublime motionlessness of a general. And then there was even Wynton Marsalis who showed up surprisingly. Though I more had love to see him playing the trumpet, his trombone play was so sweat like I have never heard it before, particularly when he played the first bars of John Coltrane's Nancy together with his father altering between mutual and call-and-response playing. 

It is a pity that I had to leave New Orleans as I have the orientation now to really explore the city. But I have to move on. There is no need to remember the blues because its calling me intensively from Memphis. And then there is also Elvis!

New Orleans I: Po'Boy, Diz and Maker's Mark

The time in New Orleans was definitely too short. Couchsurfing two different hosts I spent two days on moving my stuff. However, New Orleans was a blast and an awesome begin for my trip. At my first walk through the french quarter I was surprised about its emptiness on a weekday late afternoon. The quarter is really beautiful with all these old, beautiful french houses with bright, friendly fassades, cute balconies and backyards. Though the masses of tourists annoy, I feel I haven't seen such a lovely touristic area so far. And then there is so much exciting food. Starving like hell, I slammed my first crawfish Po'Boy At my walk along missippi river, I turned left to walk through jackson square with the stunning St. Louis Cathedral and chatted to some of the street artists there. Kenneth's beautiful impressionistic paintings with these incredible surface texture impressed me a lot. It is also noteworthy that I presumed Kenneth to be British because of his accent, polite manners and extraordinary friendliness. But guess what, he is from Texas. Contrary to widely held stereotypes, apparently not all people from Texas are cowboy hats wearing testosterone monster. I wish Kenneth to exhibit his works in a gallery soon. I also got an drawing of Diz playing the trumpet with widely blowed cheeks. Come on, Diz! 

The funky and bluesy sounds of a live band blasting from a bar made me to join a venue at Bourbon Street. Music was great, but the drinks were ridiculously expensive. That was my first time and last time at Bourbon Street. Interestingly, the street begins to crowd from 6 pm on resulting in masses of people walking around getting hammered and joining the strip venues, whose as I have to admit attractive dancers show up at the doors even before its getting dark to attract customers. But the real dark side of Bourbon Street are not the exotic dance venues, but the tarot readers who come together building lines of ten as soon it gets dark. I wondered if the frequency of tarot reading customers usually increases during night with people's increasing levels of drunkness. However, the taroist didn't asnwer my question, but replied to be able to read the cards at any time...

Biking was the main activity of my third day. I borrowed Casey's bike to go to Audobon park taking bikepath along the Missisippi riverside. The Mississippi is definitely not very beautiful, but the panorama was nice and I took a sunbath. Casey was off the for the evening. We cooked dinner and planned to watch Ingmar Bergman's Scenes of a Marriage but got lost in conversation about Bavarian and Berlin dialect with fun readings of the Buddenbrooks and Brecht's Glanz und Elend des Dritten Reiches. Casey my dear, you really contributed to reduce my prejudices about Bavaria. Ich hoffe wir können eines Tages Bayern gemeinsam unsicher machen. Falls es in Vietnam nicht gut läuft; die Lederhose wird dir immer gut stehen.

Though it was ten pm, I took a one hour bike ride to Vaughan's driven by the deep urge for some adeventures in New Orleans great night life Surprisingly, the beverages were relatively cheap and I took some glasses Maker's Mark. I got pretty waisted when this rich New Orleans kid Dustin started to act as my suggar daddy buying more whiskey, beer and tequila. The venue is pretty touristic as the pictures in the toilety may indicate. And furthermore, Kermit Ruffins' Barbecue Swingers, the greatly announced live act finished their show at 1 am leaving me waisted and pretty unsatisfied. So I planned to make my last day in New Orleans a blast...