From Usual Suspects to Least Likely Places

Friday I played the Short Circuit festival at the Roundhouse in London, a massive sold-out event, 2k humans. Sounds great, no? Except I was the warmup dj in the small side room. Oops, easily the most boring gig of the this diverse eighty-date tour. Not that I didn't appreciate it, it's instructive and humbling to be the smallest fish on the bill sometimes, and there is some intangible value in playing the same venue as did the Doors or Jimi Hendrix. Thanks Sonar!� At least it brought me to London. Because between the hours of 3-4am I got to talk and have tea with John Jordan. If the plundering corporations of the London Square Mile could murder activists as easily in the UK as they do in Nigeria he'd have a place of honor on their hit list. Last night, saturday, I played a perfectly relaxing and fun festival in Chartres, France. Afterwards I was taken 20km into the countryside to stay at this massive french manor. It's the property of a pianist priest, and has it's own onsite chapel. Did I mention the collection of chinese percussion instruments? Or that that a river flows under the house? �It's so fucking amazing that I asked to stay another day, not sure how wise that was now it's dark and I'm alone in a house with 30 rooms. Tomorrow my fantasy moment as a feudal ghost baron will dissolve, and I'm back into the maze of metro tunnels, train station platforms, and airport security checks that are the bread of my days. � � � �