I played with Bob Mould the other night at the Grog Shop in Cleveland; a precursor to our DC show later on this month. I haven’t seen Bob in at least a year and he looked totally different: Husker Du-lovely. He seemed happy and appeared to be in soft focus, all flannel shirted and casual. It was beautiful. My kids baked him whole wheat chocolate chip cookies to take with him on the road. They’re a little worried because “Uncle Bob” seems to live in his car — Where do you think WE live? we asked them.

But now I’m back in my beloved Rhode Island — what the rich folks all bought up and won’t let the rest of us live in anymore. But today, I don’t care ‘cause I’m at Steve Rizzo’s Stable Sound studio: my favorite place in the world. When I walked in today and smelled the horses and the cinnamon coffee, I thought, “When I die, I’m gonna haunt this place”. Which may be true because Billy has instructions to scatter my ashes at Sachuest Beach, down the road from here — Billy has refused on the grounds that he’ll be dead then…we’re in a sort of race.

I’m recording my next solo record here with Steve and then mixing it with good ol’ Trina Shoemaker, late of New Orleans. I have yet to determine the character of this record; the first day in the studio is a day of extremes: nerves, boredom, excitement, confusion…always a bit of “how do we do this again?”. Soon the songs’ll take over and start bossing us around. That’s when it gets good.

But already I don’t want to go home.


Posted in: words on November 15, 2005