A Few Days in New York

Travel diary: a few days in New York

New York City is a city of extremes. It is hot and humid in July. In January a cold wind whips down the avenues. The people-watching is the same. Faces of stunning beauty walking by in close proximity to utter poverty and desperation. I looked at extending my hotel stay, midweek and it would cost $5,000 more. A line from my new song "Sweet Tooth," "Sugar craves more sugar and never gives you what you need."

I started my day with a coffee at The Mud in the East Village. It seems like everyone who works there is a singer, musician, songwriter, or ...

Then I went to Ergot Records on East 2nd Street and 2nd Ave. I'm obsessed with vinyl albums these days. I get ideas for production, guitar licks, song structure, and more. I've been buying old James Brown albums. Not just the hits, but even better, the lesser-known songs. You hear a song better when you hear it for the first time before it becomes attached to a memory, the summer you fell in love with your first love, who later broke your heart, and now that song tears you to pieces each time you hear it. It's not the singer or the song, it's your long-lost self who comes back to haunt you.

Have you been to McNally Jackson the bookstore (no relation) in Soho? I already have piles of half-read books beside my bed, on my kitchen table, and in my living room, but on every visit I come away with another stash. I'm always on the hunt for new ideas, new ways of seeing things, new insights into myself and life swirling through and around me.

Last November I played in The East Village at The Scratcher, an Irish bar, on one of their Sunday evening live music sessions, and so I stopped by to listen and say hello to a few friends there.

Many aspects of New York are a pain in the ass, so then why is it so inspiring to me? Design matters there, not just functionality. Though I'm from Maine, I've spent the biggest part of my life elsewhere. Maine is about survival. Actually, that may be an incorrect generalization. There are creative types who have consciously chosen to live in Maine, and for better or for worse, Portland has become more and more like New York or Boston.

I spent my last evening in New York having dinner at an outdoor table on Prince Street in Soho. I saw a father out for a stroll with his young son walking hand in hand and reminisced about my son Jesse and me on our regular walks through Soho. My apartment was on King Street. We would walk to breakfast at Jerry's restaurant on Prince. I would see Stephanie Seymour, one of the 90s Victoria’s Secret models, Willem Dafoe, and other downtown illuminati having breakfast, while my 3-year-old son and I ate at the counter. Once at the Sullivan Street playground, Iggy Pop showed up as I was pushing my son down the slide. Iggy was great. My son had no idea who he was, of course.

Ah, memory lane here. When I moved to New York, I felt like I had found home and I still feel that way.