Bilbao, death naps, Giant Sand…

I’m in Bilbao. Just woke up from a death nap. Not sure how many of those overseas flights I’ve got left in me(!). But then again, I’ve been saying that for years.  Tried to nap on a bench during a 6 hour layover in Frankfurt. The bitter cold blowing up my pant legs. Fucking bliss. Arrived in Bilbao with my Martin D-28 in one piece.

Checked out of my hotel coma, dumped my stuff in the belly of Giant Sand bus where I’ll be bunking for the next week. Took a long walk. Checked out the Guggenheim (pictured). Cy Twombly brought me halfway out of my fog.

Spain: Lorca, Hemmingway, running with the wolves and the bulls and the beast within, coked out GOR misadventures.  Spain: it’s coming back to me now.

I played my first solo show, Giant Sand followed. Howe is lugging a real piano around. A major chord of logistics. The Danish Sandmen are gladiators.

Bilbau, Basque country, good crowd. Beautiful old theatre in the heart of it.
Now it’s backstage: baby cokes in the bottle, Belgian chocolate…. Paradise!!

Last night, I lingered around the merch booth where a young senorita showed me some matador moves. Ballet-like poses. They tell me the bullfights are subsidized by the government. Recession or not, the show must go on. We need more grrrllll Matadors. I like to imagine someone like a circa ‘78 Pat Benatar out there terrorizing the bulls…..

getting sleepy…..... turn out the light…... I’m putting the lap-top to sleep.

Next stop Portugal.