Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I had restless, relentless dreams all night that were full of snippets of my life-tour buses and parties and album covers and keeping track of my things-but which never made any sense. Maybe it’s an illusion that life makes sense to begin with. At any rate, I woke up confused about where I ( Read more... )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

Remember how the crowd had seemed extra excited, extra loud, extra into it, the first show we did after the explosion? This was like that.

Our usual entry to the stage had Remo come out last. The rhythm section would start first, and gradually each of us would kick in, me last with a ( Read more... )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I ended up seeing Sarah’s doctor, because that was faster and a better idea than sitting around in some New York City emergency room waiting to be seen for a non-emergency. He confirmed I probably had a concussion and said the main thing to do was to avoid things that might aggravate it, ( Read more... )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

When I woke up I had a moment of disorientation for two reasons, one, because I slept so hard at Ziggy’s (and therefore forgot I was at Ziggy’s) and two because somehow we ended up sleeping across the bed instead of the normal direction.

Once I got past my moment of where-the-fuck-am-I, ( Read more... )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I had enough on my mind that I forgot to feel crappy about being in New Jersey. For one thing, the Byrne Arena wasn’t that different from a million other venues like it, so it was easy to forget where we were. For another, we saw a lot of the New York crowd, which seemed a positive thing- ( Read more... )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

(Sorry for the late post! Here’s hoping it goes through…! -ctan)
One of Flip’s great talents was his hangover cures. He knew how to cure every kind of excess, not just booze, including too much playing, too much singing, too much of any kind of drug, et cetera.

You know what happens when ( Read more... )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.


( Read more... )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I called Ziggy when I got upstairs. I got his machine. I left the number of the hotel and my room number. Then I opened the minibar wondering if there was any Gatorade in there.

There wasn’t, but there was Coke. And Jack. Which meant there was Jack and Coke.
( Read the rest of this entry » )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

I went back to Boston for one more reset of my laundry and my psyche before I hit the road with Nomad again. On July 19th I flew from Logan to Miami to meet the entourage and who did I run into in the gate area waiting to board? Louis.

“Let me guess where you’re going,” he said, after we’ ( Read more... )

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

Ziggy and I didn’t have sex for like a week. This is significant because I felt I was holding out for something but I wasn’t sure what, and he was obviously holding back, too, because when have you ever known Ziggy not to make a move in an entire week? I think we were both waiting until we ( Read more... )