First, you have to imagine: 4 AM, air very still, temperature hovering right at zero, and all that extraordinary night-time ambient light that exists when the world is covered in snow. Then add: the Mississippi river, frozen and mighty and stretching away into the darkness. And finally: the completely eerie cries of hawks hunting, ringing out over empty, icy streets and not another sound competing with them. 

That was us on our way to the airport - leaving Davenport, Iowa. 


I can't imagine a better way to have ended this tour, despite the fact that the cold was inhuman and walking to the venue in that weather had me considering things like: how long would it take for a human body to freeze solid at one degree fahrenheit? Which led to: and would you freeze totally perfect, or would you resemble a bunch of bananas accidently left in the car overnight while in Lawrence, Kansas (where it was a comparatively balmy 10 degrees and if you're wondering, the bananas looked like dismembered gorilla fingers) . . . and if they subsequently thawed you, are your parts still donate-able? Because they were frozen and everything? 

I know other people prepare for shows by lighting candles or drinking Jameson or whatever, but for me it's imagining the different and interesting ways one might kick the bucket in Iowa. 

Anyway, the Redstone Room is a very pretty venue, and the sound was fantastic. I was feeling pretty sad to be ending this tour - don't get me wrong, life on the road is exhausting, frequently disastrous, stressful, and sometimes has you considering a nice, stable career in accounting, but it's playing shows for people who really listen, really like what you're doing and don't expect you to have choreographed dance moves or a light show or pyrotechnics exploding at the end of every song that washes away every single strain of fed-up-ness you might be fostering. And that was last night. A wonderful crowd, a beautiful town, and the perfect ending to a long month on the road. 

While I'm on the subject, thanks to everyone who drove in from points far and wide braving some really shitty conditions to come to this show. I hadn't realized there were so many of you, and I'm completely flattered and grateful that you came. Also: ladies in the front row: you rocked it and made me feel like a superstar - so thanks and I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to hang out. 

And now . . . I take a couple weeks off to polish up material for the next record, a prospect that has me incredibly excited. And I suppose the blogs go back to being about toilet paper and walking the dog and stuff. You'd think that I'd have wrung those subjects dry by now, but you'd be wrong. There's ALWAYS something to say about toilet paper. 

I will, finally, just up the warm fuzzy factor here and say: thanks all of you, all you remarkable American cities that were previously only points on a map in my mind. You made me feel welcome, and by and large, you all had pretty good grub. I'll be back soon. 

Love

B


PS I have to point out that the very smart Sebastian Steinberg postulated that the weird ass hawk hunting noises were really recordings thunk up by a clever Davenport Anti-Pigeon Shit Everywhere Committee. I believe this makes the whole thing even MORE spooky.