The Mad in the High Castle

"Madhouse on Castle Street" was the name of an infamous, albeit largely unseen, British teleplay, a so-called "boarding house" meller airing once only in '63 on the BBC, celebrated to this day for starring a young Bob Dylan on his first ever trip to the UK after discovery in the clubs here in NYC bootstrapped/whisked him overseas to essay a dramatic/romantic rebel-type role (Jack Fate nipping at yr nose) which also necessitated some singing (4 songs apparently, including the first ever recorded rendition of "Blowin' in the Wind")--an 8 miles high kinda journey that took him from positively 4th Street to the manses of Mayfair down into the sweaty cellars of the London folkie clubs which not only helped him expand his repertoire (thank you Martin Carthy) but got him Ewan Macoll'ed up to join the ranks of the Aldermaston/Jarrow/CND marching hard left UK folkie brigade--this a couple years prior to his supposed apostate 'Judas' outing in Manchester where, tarred and feathered, thistled and thorned, younger than that now Bob passed on into rock mythos...

...the play's the thing of course, gone gone gone now, the master tape apparently wiped for good (must check with hypnotist collector Mitch Blank about this) but memory of which has acquired greil status amongst the cognoscenti boarders at the Dylano Hotel, now dusting off their copies of "Edie" (btw my pal David Dalton, one of the greatest word slingers/prose stylists of our time--also a fantastic psycho-biographer--check out his excellent tome "James Dean, the Mutant King", the first JD exejesus to my knowledge to raise the spectre of the possibly possessed Other, driver Donald Turnupseed-- what's in a name, indeed?--as unwitting agent of time, causality, and mis/fortune in Dean's untimely crackup in his Porsche Spyder (my man Chris Cornell drives a very similar model Porsche-- BE CAREFUL, CHRIS!!)...anyway David had a party recently here for his new book writ in tandem with Factory photog Nat Finkelstein's snaps of La Sedgwick-- looked like a good 'un, but as it was kinda dark in this club I didn't get to inspect the goods too closely and haven't yet procured a promo copy (hint hint, David) (yep, like Al Goldstein--now sheltered from the storm by Penn Gillette I'm told, good humanitarian gesture that... I prefer not to pay retail if I don't haveta)...

All this is to say that I found myself exiled on Castle Street up in Great Barrington Mass. with Caroline on Sunday night ("on the first night of Hannukah, my true love gave to me/a cold knish and a glass tea") at the Mahawaie Performing Arts Center (Mahawaie an old Indian word meaning "Downstream" apparently, turn off yr mind relax and float), a beautifully refurbished old Vaudeville era theatre circa 1908, was in the pines up in the lovely Berkshires taking my Golem out for another walk before a crowd on the older side of the fence...true, a few rockers here and there, couple of mystic Woodstockian witches also draped in voluminous swathes of purple eleganza (and who made a beeline for Caroline, natch) but predominantly a crowd of serious-minded artistic Volk (title of great new Laibach album, btw) who applauded warmly at the end but didn't quite catch a fire as the audience at my Montreal Golem show did recently... I dunno, I played my heart out but hey it was Sunday night (just about the worst night of the week to perform just about anywhere)...yet one elderly elegant gentleman thanked me profusely for showing the film and discussing its rich resonant symbolism in light of the recent Persian Holocaust Denial Conference (would that our supposed cabal had actually faked footage of Dachau and the other camps on a backlot in Hollyweird somewhere, with Edgar Ulmer or perhaps Gerd Oswald directing)...

Was up in Great Barrington after 5 days repose in sunny LA actually, on the coast for some family affairs (cue Memphis Minnie's "Me and My Chauffeur"--Caroline had to be out there to cast hot young German director and Fassbinder heir-apparent Oscar Roehler's new film "Lulu and Jimi"--good title!), and as she doesn't drive... also a good excuse to visit my folks in Riverside, a special treat as my younger brother Stewie was also in for a visit...

and of course, besides helping out Caroline, the trip for me was an excellent excuse to return to LA on the heels of my whirlwind recording session with Chris Cornell last October to check out the current progress of that project...

and so I made a pop-in at NRG Studios last Wednesday to hear mixes from Chris' new album courtesy of producer Steve Lillywhite--and--and--and all I can say is--WOW!!!!!!!!

To hear Chris's beautiful, soulful songs again head-on in wide-screen and cinemascopic full effect courtesy of Steve's deft and sensitive production flourishes (quite psychedelic in places, which I adore) was a truly thrilling experience-- it made me blush, honestly, to hear my guitar raging so in yr face in places (axe's bold as Love)...in fact, I got misty all over again hearing this haunting, emotional music so fully realized, music which keeps playing over and over in my waking dreams...Chris is a damn good writer, creating unique unformulaic songs since his Soundgarden days (I loved "Black Hole Sun" when it came out), well-crafted songs with unexpected key changes and meter shifts (which I'm also partial too, obviously), but songs from the gut that twist all over the map and take you to far distant places into exultant, ecstatic states of mind and being (no pabulum here, in other words)...he's such a great voice too, and overall guiding Presence...anyway, 'tis one brilliant, rocking, outstanding album...and I am extremely proud and honored to be a part of it.

Woops, Caroline has just emerged from the bedroom/ cave of the golden calf exhibiting signs of extreme sleepitude to begin her ritual morning ablutions in our magenta-coloured loo ( her personal mikveh/ hamam)-- have to light the kettle/ boil the breakfast early now...

What else up in LA? Had a fine, early brunch with old friend /music hipster attorney/ NYC transplant Michael Ackerman at one of my favorite joints, the 101 Coffeeshop in Hollywood (remember the diner in "Swingers"?)... an excellent dinner with horrorshow supremo Bill Moseley at La Mandarinette...former Sexiest Man Alive Harry Hamelin (still looks pretty damn sexy) invited us to a run-through for friends and family of his "Dancing With the Stars" live roadshow about to start a national tour with wife Lisa Rinna, they were rehearsing at the Forum but we couldn't make it unfortunately :-( ...and had a hilarious sitdown/reunion with Hits editor/writer/master tummler Roy Trakin (another NYC emigre) at Canter's (best pastrami in LA), where many years ago Don Van Vliet and I chowed down at 2am during the making of "Ice Cream for Crow" (Don loved deli's, and the Runyonesque characters who inhabit them...I remember one occasion at the Carnegie Deli here around the time I brought Don out to do his second David Letterman appearance in '83...took us about an hour to walk to the Carnegie from his midtown hotel, after his usual cunctatory delaying tactics, mass observation technique in full force, and some enjoyable palaver with a couple of street walkers in front of the Hilton...anyway we eventually made it to the Carnegie, and after fidgeting at our table and finding it wanting ("Man, it's too NOISY here, I can't stand it!") he got up to move to another table as was his custom, and the astonished waiter, upon observing Beefheart's inevitable manic table-switching routine, strode over to nail him in his tracks with a withering, faux polite: "Pray tell--WHERE are you going???")

and as a postscript to these meanderings let me weave one more warped and woof'ed and tango'ed-up-in-blue skein to tell you that Caroline and I both are a couple of very, very lucky campers, indeed...

as on our way last Saturday afternoon from NYC to Great Barrington in my rented Taurus, right at the juncture of the Saw Mill and Taconic Parkways, the driver directly in front of me came, turn-up-seed like, to an unannounced, nearly complete stop, while pondering whether or not to take the Sleepy Hollow exit (yes)...

and I, slamming on my breaks at about 70 mph, was forced to rapidly swerve to the left to avoid hitting him--

and our car went into a 25 second screeching, freewheeling skid, careening from left to right and back again despite my best efforts to wrestle control of the wheel, the Taurus describing an almost 180 degree sickening arc back and forth across 4 lanes, Caroline and I strapped in and helplessly glancing, unbelieving, at each other, at this turn of the screw...saying our final goodbyes with our eyes...hurtling out of control, we could have very easily flipped over, or collided with another vehicle...

but somehow, miraculously, we narrowly missed the cars whizzing by us on both sides...

and then, with a final convulsive lurch, our car skidded onto the right soft shoulder of the highway.

and come to earth, I was finally able to brake to a complete halt in the grassy gully.

and we were out of harm's way, for a moment.

Shook, shaken and stirred, yes (Chris Cornell too had a nearly disastrous spill on his motorcycle during our recording back in October)

But, unscathed...safe.

There but for the Grace of God.

I gingerly nosed the car back onto the tarmac...

and on we drove...

(Obviously Two Believers!)

and I am on my knees everyday since

To give thanks

that I am here now

to tell the tale...

xxLove

Gary