12 May 2007
Richards on Richards, Vancouver
Back over the border again, which we'll be repeating for the next three nights for reasons too tedious to mention.
Everybody loves Vancouver, don't they? It's got mountains, it's got beaches, it's got aspirational glassy apartment buildings within walking distance of seedy massage parlours. If it weren't for the fact that everyone under 30 has been liquidated, it would be the perfect place to live.
Matt and I are featured on the news in the morning. Sadly it is not because of an act of heroism or controversy, but because in the world of 24 hour news, there is occasionally a three minute slot after the Weather when they can put a band on.
It's hard to believe this is the penultimate gig.
I suffer slightly from Red Light Syndrome. Sometimes this refers to the inability to play properly when you are being recorded (the red light being the small one next to the 'Record' button), but in this case it is a very specific problem for me, which occurs when they light the stage in red. It always seems to be the exact same red as the neck of my guitar, which means that it suddenly becomes invisible.
Now, a large proportion of playing the guitar is your hand's familiarity with distances up and down the neck. For me that proportion is, let's say, eleven twelths. This equates to one semitone, or a single fret. It's a tiny distance in physical space. But it's an entire musical universe away from what you should be playing.
