Crazy nights in Glasgow: a running theme. (MMJ)

I am so glad we don't live in Glasgow. It's not because the typical city-war (think Louisville v. Lexington) reasons you're probably thinking. Mostly, I just can't keep up with Glasgow. Every single evening I've spent there has turned into some night-on-the-town of epic proportions without any such intention.

Last night was one of those nights. Note to self (and everyone else): if you don't leave Glasgow by 11:30pm, you will be spending the night in Glasgow. After 11:30, your earliest option back to Edinburgh is the 5:20am bus.

Thankfully, David and I were running on the adrenaline high of seeing a pure brilliant (that's Glaswegian for "very good") show and hanging out with very good friends from home. We could have made the last train if we hadn't gone backstage, but, I'm sorry, when does anyone NOT take the opportunity to go backstage? Even when I'm backstage at my own show, I get a little ping of excitement. It just feels so forbidden.

Also, My Morning Jacket is so freaking good. All of them. Also, I've been in a singer-songwriter rut for so long, I'd forgotten what it's like to see an actual BAND play -- not just a singer-songwriter who happens to have a band backing him up. I mean, the bands I've played in all play well together, but it's always clear whose band it is. My Morning Jacket, despite the commanding power of frontman Jim James, looks like a group who loves to play music and travel together. That feeling emanates from the stage, and makes for a really special show.

It was also great to attend a concert that I had nothing to do with. There was no soundcheck or tuning, no start time to fuss over, nothing to pack up at the end of the night. There was just music and entertainment.

Oh, and friends! Because, for those of you not from Louisville, My Morning Jacket is a Louisville band, so I'm absolutely biased. In addition to a perfect show, we also got to have dinner with one of our favorite people in the world before he had to hit the stage. He may or may not have been part of the reason we were tempted into the seedy underbelly of the Glasgow late-night pub scene (I'm actually pretty sure it was my fault). But there was bourbon, friends; talk about a taste of home.

I'm more than a wee bit worried about David, seeing as he was only able to take a thirty minute nap before he had to go to school today. Well, there's worry and horrible guilt at being such a bad influence. Tour buses and bright lights and rock bands and hugs from home and good friends and ... yet another crazy night in Glasgow.

I'll probably write some more about the trip and the show, but for now ... zzzzzzzzzz

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