Day 6
Hotel Café, Los Angeles, 28 January 2005
"We're just totally psyched you guys could be here".
Much of what I know about LA is learnt from cop shows on TV and movies about movies. It is strange to be here in person. The first thing to notice is that there is no snow. The sky is blue beyond the palm trees. Which isn't to say it's warm. But I suppose it is January everywhere.
Well, after all that playing in the snow it's back to work. LA, being another hub of the music industry, is the place for us to do a good gig seeing as the room will be completely full of important people. (This is what I read from between the lines delivered by the charming record company people who took us out for lunch). Aside from the fact that everybody is psyched, we are also regularly being told about the Buzz that is building around us. I say “us”, I mean Matt, of course. The only buzz that surrounds me is low-level tinnitus. But it's nice to hear, even if buzz usually denotes an act that hasn't had a chance to blow it yet.
We drive along Sunset Boulevard and buy an extremely cheap keyboard stand. While we are on Sunset, the sun sets.
We're playing at the Hotel Café this evening. As we get out of the car, Gary Jules stops us and says “Hi I'm Gary Jules.” Gary Jules is partly responsible for the music at the hotel café (which doesn't appear to be part of a hotel or a café) and has come along to welcome us, which is nice of him. We did play with him in London a year ago, so I suppose it wasn't entirely random, but I'm left with the feeling that that's the kind of thing that happens in LA.
The venue is small, narrow and dingy but has a beautiful corner stage draped in red velvet and a mini upright piano which Matt is delighted by. The only problem is that it faces the wall rather than the audience. Matt gets round this problem by standing up for the in-between bits and using my mic. You'd think this would give him precious seconds to figure out what he's going to say, but no. Same old rubbish. They seem to like it though. As someone said the other night, “you're already adorable. The accent is just a bonus”. It is a bonus. America loves British boys.
After the gig we are rushed over the road to a cantina which is decorated like a ghost train but is far far scarier. We are pushed into a throng of 'people' and Matt is quickly devoured. I hide by one of the mirrored coke-tables in the upstairs room (the Addams Family Dentist) and Roberto silently eats a giant burrito in the green half-light. The buzz is audible.
