Day twelve and we all come down with the gripe… sore throats and fogginess. It is odd for us Scottish types to chill our houses and then walk into the heat. We do it the other way round. So we slept late and then went across the road to Philip Jeck’s workshop/talk. It was great seeing videos of his early work such as Vinly Requiem.
Clare and I then went down to The Alfa Bar, quickly becoming our local, for pizza and salad. Hot and sultry the night air was buzzing with the noise of Rio. And it really is some noise. Traffic, people and air conditioning blaring out across the night but of course not to forget the birds and monkeys that all share the streets.
After a tricky manoeuvre with the Metro which unbeknown to us stopped on this day two stops away from Ipanema, we hopped in a taxi with no suspension to just make it to Oi Futuro for Bill Orcutt’s solo performance with minutes to spare. I have wanted to see Bill perform for a while now. Those Harry Pussy days still linger in my post punk receptors. It was not dissappointing. A great show. Plucked strings, thumped wood, and an almost effervescent modern blues magic. At times Blind Willie Johnson’s ghost appeared or possibly more appropriate Skip James’. Beefheart was never far away as well. I almost sometimes detected a slight Bossa guitar angle, but only slightly (it must be the heat). A lovely addition to the Novas Frequencias party.