It's a Big Country
With Musical Guest Kyp Malone (of TV on the Radio)
The year was 1987. The roll of Tri-X was 36 exposures. The mileage from New York to Los Angeles—by way of Western Pennsylvania to see my grandmother—worked out perfectly to one shot every 87 miles. I continually reset my odometer, stopping every 87 miles to take a picture—even if it was dark, even if there was nothing of interest, even if it was raining. (Hence the number of self-portraits.) I wore my shitty Sony Walkman headphones—usually hidden under a headscarf—the whole time.
The starting point was Newark, the end point was the Howard Johnson’s on Hollywood Boulevard, near the Capitol Records building. These locations were determined by the car’s owner and the company who handled the “Driveaway” transaction.
My companion—a full-sized Panasonic boombox—was my most expensive purchase to date. I took that thing with me into restaurants and recorded conversations with waitresses, truck drivers, and fellow travelers. (I still have those tapes somewhere.) I also made up and recorded country songs while I drove, singing at full volume, alone in the car.
I meant to write the stories of this trip this week, but hit a small roadblock. Apparently, as our bodies change and morph, sometimes a few outlier cells within us foment revolution. This week, I tried to find out what these troublemakers are up to. After six doctor’s appointments in five days, a CT scan, an ultrasound, and four of the most painful games of peek-a-boo you can imagine, in the end, I was left with lots of lab-coated-shrugs and cheerful promises of more tests!
I called my friend Kyp Malone to ask if he’d do a cover of one of the country songs I’d written on this 1987 trip. He had guests over, but said if sent him a voice memo with the song, he’d think about it.
I sang the song into my phone’s recorder and sent him the clip.
The recording I woke up to when I turned my phone on the next morning was the best gift I’ve gotten in a long long time. Laughing in bed is a wonderful way to start a grueling day of doctor’s appointments. Kyp was pretty faithful to the original, but verse three is all him. I love it.
He said to feel free to trim the end, but I left it all. It goes on for a bit too long, just like a good cross country road trip.