San Diego

Yesterday I flew back to Brooklyn after a week down in San Diego where I stayed with my old friend Greg Peters. Peters plays slide on Around My Thoughts and Blue River. He only picked up the guitar a few years back but he's the type of guy that won't begin learning a new skill unless he's willing to commit himself to to it entirely. He mastered karate, surfing and beer brewing (Pizza Port Brewing Company) with the same dedication.

Our first gig was in San Clemente at the northern-most Pizza Port. Serious Sam Barrett played before us and loosened up the crowd of beer guzzlers and marines. He barely made it off the road for the gig after a day long trip down the coast from San Francisco where he'd played a show the night before. He stormed in like a wired Woody Guthrie with a British accent and 12-string guitar. I half expected him to jump on a freight train after the gig and head off to whatever came next.

Instead Sam and a group of good people came back to Peters' house for another beer, a smoke and late night jam in the backyard. Sam's from Yorkshire and played us a medley of local and Scottish folk songs which I dutifully recorded. Blew us away. Although his influences appear to be traditional Enlgish folk singers, Woody Guthrie, etc, turns out Sam's one of Too $hort and NWA's biggest fans. Unfortunately he had to take off back to England the next day, but I'm sure he'll reappear unexpectedly somewhere sometime telling stories like Utah Philips.

Click here to hear the recording of Sam in the backyard.

Saturday Peters and I started the day off with a set at the Listen Local picnic. Cathryn Beeks, the organizer and host, was kind enough to include me in the lineup even though I live about as far from San Diego as possible on this continent. The venue was right on Mission Bay at the Boat and Ski Club, a beautiful spot to spend an afternoon listening to great music. Unfortunately, Peters and I had to cut out pretty quick after our set to get ready for the party we were throwing that night at his house.

With the PA set up we stoked the barbecue and tapped the freshly brewed libations. Around 9 we played a sweet sounding set to a crowd of friends and strangers who quickly became friends before the night ended. We played all night. It was one of those epic guitar passing nights where everyone that touches the instrument had crazy talent and different styles of playing: rock and roll, talking blues, freestyle, jammy. Some people kicked it until the sun came up and we were still playing, if not very coherently. In college we hosted a bunch of "Nights of Entertainment" where Gabe and I would play music, Peters would break boards with his fist and Mullan would carefully insult everyone in the audience with his stand up. This party was among the best of them down in the salty San Diego air.

With nothing else scheduled Peters and I headed down to Old Town monday evening to busk for dinner money. We set up on a square in a pedestrian only street and played for about an hour, earning enough to pick up some tasty fajitas de camarones down the road.

I remember hoping that Serious Sam Barrett would miss his plane and be able to come play at the party Saturday. He didn't, and maybe because of my wishes I just about missed my flight on tuesday morning and ended up stuck in a middle seat that wouldn't recline next to a big guy whose arm hung too far into my hemisphere. Small price to pay for a week of music, good beer, surfing and sunshine.