TheOXBOW.com: OXBOW - Trouble That Will Trouble The World

Tour Diary: 1996 > Page 3

I want to show you my apartment, she says.
Uh hunh, I say.
But you're not going to be one of those guys that's going to try and fuck me, are you?
Oh. No. Why would I do that?
You're an asshole.

She smiles at me, I smile at her, and the conversation scrapes to a halt. Sitting on the edge of the stage, wisps of steam curling from my skull, and sweat running down my chest into my shorts, I think I like her because anybody that would have me in their home in the condition I'm in has got to be okay. Really. Either that or completely insane. That's okay, like Ginsberg once said to me, Dharma gates are endless, but the logistics of love lose out to the logistics of fealty and loading equipment, and this we do. The last thing she said to me as she walked off, "You don't know what you miss." Maybe. I donUt have a real good idea of what's going on with the things I'm not missing either though. I tried to hold the same note from the same song (La Luna) that makes me pass out every time I've done it before in the past and not surprisingly I pass out except this time I crack my head on the monitor. I think it was in Vienna.

Add that to the damage list.

We play Koln and a television crew shows up. Apparently we're going to be the hosts of a show called WahWah on VivaTV. Mark Sikora is the director...up until 5 minutes ago I thought his name was actually Maxi Core. But I've seen these shows before and I know what they want us to do, I also know what most bands actually do when they're on and it seems like a toss up between being foolishly cool and coolly foolish. We choose neither and go for REAL. Or at least as real as we're likely to get with television cameras pointed inches from our faces. We talk about our new record Serenade in Red, we talk about Albini producing it, we talk about Marianne Faithfull singing on it, and we talk about the tour.

We refuse to answer any of those Red Hot Chili Pepper questions about dick size, porno movies, and groupies.

Since our segment will go hand in hand with a segment with one with The Melvins, we end it by waving good-bye to The Melvins. The film crew stays afterward and decides to film our live show. We open with La Luna, I hold the same fucking note that I always hold and pass out, falling off the stage and on to the floor. I make it back to the stage. It takes me half the show to remember both where I am and who I am as I draw hard on the wine of forgetfulness. These days immediately following the end of the tour I'm still not sure I got it straight.

Add that to the damage list.