Rock Hobo Road Vol. 2: Louder, Faster, Crunchier.
Posted on March 23rd, 2011
I had always wondered what might be a lethal dose of coffee, until I met aforementioned sound man/coffee aficionado Jeremy Lemos. Last year I had the privilege of going on a world tour with Jeremy and the band & crew of Pavement. Everything about that tour was marvelous, including Jeremy’s almost obsessive scavenger-hunt-like perseverance to take anyone willing to tag along to the best competition grade coffee shops around the globe. Now, like the vegetarian thing, I have to qualify myself; I am not a “coffee person,” but I have been drinking it every morning since I was 11 years old. (Sorry Mom.) That is to say I can appreciate a perfectly pulled espresso, but really my first cup of the day can be almost any swill. I admit this sad truth is due to my caffeine addiction and I admit that I have a problem.
When someone says, “Hey, you wanna grab a cup of coffee?” I invariably say yes, pre-pleasing my addiction centers with the anticipation of relief. On this day, the day we landed in London jet-lagged and looking for a mission to keep us on our feet and away from our scrumptious and transient hotel beds until at least 10pm, Jeremy asked me this very question. This question also holds the possibility of an adventure and the meeting of new people, as well as the possible loss of two days pay on a pair of shoes. I’m in.
Drummer and percussion peel away opting for sleep and BBC programming, but we, the endeavoring group comprised of Jeremy, Tim (excellent sound man and much like Jeremy but wears more brown and earth tones) and Nicola, (a well travelled kindred spirit of the music world and a Kiwi living in London), acting as ambassador and guide to crew and band types alike, set off to the only New Zealand style coffee spot in the seemingly very posh area of Bloomsbury.
I ordered the best flat white I’ve ever had this side of the international date line at The Espresso Room. Jeremy and Tim drink enough espressos to excite a sloth into becoming a honey badger. Yeah, I said it.
The afternoon is then spent flitting from one amazing design store to another, ogling tie clips and hats that look like bird nests, conjuring up the image of a lifestyle built around young hip people drinking scotch, donning sweater vests, and hoarding high-end Star Wars kitsch for irony’s sake. (Grr…)
We all pretty much fail on making good on our big talk of purchasing clothing that will make us better people and decide to go to a pub.
I do still think about that Swarovski crystal Death Star executive paper weight.