It's my new favorite thing to say. You can't help but swing it with some attitude when you say it. I want to use it as a verb- maybe even an adjective. I would be perfectly happy calling a dog Bayonne, although dog names are already lining up and Bayonne would be third behind Buoy and McFly. I'm not sure of the order, only sure of the awesome names.
The town of Bayonne is in the industrial offshoot of NYC part of Jersey. Not much to look at and it's only redeeming quality might be the name. BaaaaayyoHHNNN. But I cruised up yesterday then took a little jaunt over to lovely Jersey City. Speeding up the Jersey Turnpike in the rumblin' 350, I was running late to my meeting; my meeting in BAYONNNNNE and was blasting the new Rustic Overtones' record. It's still unsettling, but it's growing on me. I can't help but miss the devastating horn lines that seemed to have been replaced with grand string parts. It's just different, it lacks the POP of previous Rustic records, which could probably be attributed to the do-it-yourself production the dudes did. But it sounds muted and static. There's big parts, but I have to imagine them as bigger to do them justice. Ultimately I'd say it's a cool record, just a record from a different Rustic than I started to listen to in high school- a band that drinks with Ray LaMontagne now instead of the Mighty Mighty Bosstones.
Cranked the new Sidecar EP too and continue to love the first song, "Hospitals on Fire." There's an acoustic tune on there, just Chayes solo and while it reminds me a lot of Sublime's acoustic album, it reminds me more of the power Chayes has with just his voice and an acoustic guitar. Dude has such a big voice and it's got some soul in it now, seemingly a product of growing older and living more. All the bells & whistles of Sidecar are fun, but Chayes drives that band and I'd be just as content to listen to him perform solo than with the band. I'd actually like to see that. It seems ages ago when that's all he did- if anything, accompanied by a dude and a dijembe. I wonder if my thirties will go by as quickly as my twenties did.
After Bayonne...BAYONNE!!...it was on to Jersey City, which is a little slice of heaven that is a little bit of hell when trying to park a rambling 350. The lots are all monthly and the garages all have a clearance of under 6 feet. But I took a chance with a garage and squeaked through at five miles an hour, just barely clearing the ceiling and the lights and the pipes that we're hanging down. I could see each pipe shake a little every time I went under one. But I made it and made it out, too. I was worried about that, thinking the change in direction mixed with the incline could really do some damage. The only certainty of the situation was that I was getting out, one way or the other. When I pulled up to the gate, the attendant did a double take and his eyes grew wider the closer I got.
You can't park that in here, he said.
Well I did, I said.
How? He asked.
But shit, saying Bayonne when you're drunk must be fun.
On the way back to Philly, with the sun setting and cars with one person in them darting their way through traffic, I played Them Crooked Vultures loudly as a way to ease out the frustration of the day. It seemed like some folks could have car-pooled, but like they said in Singles- people love their cars.
Back home, Flaherty & the Sea Captains were getting ready for a show in NH and it was good to catch up & talk music with Adam. Dude's getting married, which seems fun. He's not nervous, just excited. Probably a good way to look at it.
Kind of like Bayonne, baby! Ain't no need to get nervous, just excited. It's only going to get more awesome the longer you're there.