Oh Mystery

Last week I played at the Bucks Head Tavern in Taylorville, you can tell a good pub by the history in there and the people behind the bar and like me a little later on top of it.
I get it done out in it where it needs to be done between here and there and beyond and back again. Sometimes the dog comes, sometimes the friends come, a lot of it I’m on my ownsome. You get thinking and you get a lot of things figured out, then the truck stops and you’re late and you can’t change your shirt and you know the people hugging you can smell the road on you and you get shy but you keep talking, and keep hugging and keep hoping and through all of that keep learning about the people in Taylorville, or Woodstock, or or or or wherever it is you find yourself and you forget what it was about the world you had figured out, but its ok cause you learnt something about the people in it.
In the Eastern we talk about the musicians we’ve met along the way who want the people that see them to be at a distance, to keep the mystery, to not be bothered by them, I get that it can be hard being a node in a weird energy transference and musicians are fragile folks, but it always seemed like they were missing out in some fashion, like they’re only making the signal go one way. Sometimes your soul gets punished a bit by the guy slurring in your ear but whenever I’ve hung on in there I’ve always learnt something I didn’t know before and ultimately that learning is the whole point to it all, the singing and songs and dancing and hearing and listening its all in the mix to help with the learning.
That was not what I was expecting when the road got its claws in me way back when but I’m glad I figured it out in time that I could cease believing in the idea that this whole thing was about me.
So I scrabble around out there and on here trying to make it all make sense and sometimes it does but that’s mostly when you all are involved. Besides that brooding mystery, eccentric wisp on the wind of art inability to shake a hand shit is not something I can pull off that well.
That’s one of the good things I’ve learnt, and was reminded of this week when I saw a photo of me and john the governor of the Bucks Head standing in front of the fire the morning after. My tshirt was half tucked into my belt and my fly was half done up and well, basically I bet you Nick Cave never has had that problem, so I guess I’ll just keep keeping it as unmysterious as possible, practical boots and warm coats and a desperate need to meet every one I get to meet.
I hope to meet all of you out there, to celebrate, commiserate and apologise where necessary. Im making it up as I go along and I’m so glad youre all there to help!
I’ll see you in
This Sunday even!
And then and then….
Island Bay / Wellington!
And that’s just the goddamn beginning or middle or the beginning of the end of the beginning
And there’ll be more!
Australia even! (holla if you want a show)
And then Ireland and then Europe
And then and then and then…
Tickets here!

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