Every Saturday, we’ll be posting a new illustration by David Lester. The Mecca Normal guitarist is visually documenting people, places and events from his band’s 30-year run, with text by vocalist Jean Smith.
Mecca Normal Tour Diary
NYC
Oct. 1, 2014
First thing in the morning we drove our rental car from our hotel in Newark, N.J., to the Manhattan studios of Democracy Now!—a TV program hosted by journalist Amy Goodman—to be interviewed about American war-protester Malachi Ritscher who, in 2006, self-immolated.
We were in the middle of a tour in the northeast when we got word that a senior producer for the show would have time to pre-record a segment for later broadcast. This was perfect because an exhibition about Malachi was about to open in Chicago (running until December 14). Mecca Normal has a song about Malachi, and some of our art and writing is in the exhibit, which was created for the 2014 Whitney Biennial.
I’m absolutely a morning person so I was unfazed by the 5:45 a.m. alarm. I made David—who is less of a morning person—a decent espresso on the hotplate I carry around on tour and we drove into NYC, succeeding at beating rush hour and finding parking.
We found a spacious café to settle into with the amp and guitar. I went over to Whole Foods for supplies (sandwiches, nuts and coffee beans) while David changed his strings. Once we were at Democracy Now! it was a bit other-worldly sitting in the reception area watching Amy doing the show through the sound-proof glass. We met various staff members, including a guy who said he was both a fan of ours and a friend of the guy who runs the record label we’re on.
A panicky sound technician arrived and introduced us to Amy. He tried to convince us that performing live would be problematic because they didn’t have any monitors.
“David can turn down the guitar amp,” I said calmly. “It’ll be fine.”
He continued to discourage me, telling me that they didn’t have a hand-held mic; that I’d be singing through the clip-on lapel mic.
“It’ll be fine,” I said.
“But you won’t be able to hear yourself,” he said.
“I have a loud voice,” I said.
Amy, frowning deeply, explained the issue further. “What he’s saying is that you won’t be able to hear yourself over the guitar.”
“It won’t be a problem,” I said warmly, trying to instill confidence. “We’ve been doing this for 30 years.”
“Taking The Back Stairs” from Water Cuts My Hands (K, 1991; Matador, 1991; Smarten Up!, 2003) (download):
