There aren’t many cities in America, or anywhere for that matter, where you can’t drive a couple hours and get away from urban society. In Los Angeles, we can point in any direction and be somewhere magical in between one to two hours. It’s a luxury that I far too often take for granted. Routine can ruin the best of us.
So a two hour drive took us a lot further then it should have. To a spot where colorful pianos played backdrop for the tumbleweeds, beneath a rainbow streaked sky of clouds. In this spot, for this weekend, and maybe for always, everything was about music, and everyone was drunk and happy.
Nicki Bluhm had her own van full of music, they came in the form of her band, The Gramblers. They appeared to be veterans of the road, professionals who’d been in this game for longer than a minute. Guys who’d been touring for years of their lives, who were used to far out places and mid-day beers.
So maybe that first performance of the day wasn’t so special to them. Maybe it was just another Jam in another Van in the desert. Maybe it was just a stop on whatever rail they’re riding, but for myself, and hopefully the rest of the folks there, that was some shit man. That was some really good start to your day type shit, and I hope I come across a lot more afternoons like that as I ride my own rail, or Van, or whatever.