Pajo circa 1984

Here's an ancient picture of me in 1984, in the basement of the "punk house" in Louisville, KY. I don't want to discuss my Tina Turner hair right now.

Come on, Pink Hollers!

Haven't updated this blog in so long-- not because I haven't wanted to. But because ithe domain name expired and I've been "on the road" (a term I've started to dislike). When I get a decent patch of time I'll be able to settle this.

I'm sitting on a plane in Tel Aviv en route to London. It's business class so I feel pretty great despite being up all night. The tour manager is next to me and he's fully blistered-- sauced to the point of gibberish mumbling.

We played to 50,000 people last night, supporting Depeche Mode. All the venues keep getting upgraded to accommodate demand. The fans are intelligent and warm. I feel so privileged to be a part of their world.

Toda Raba

Haven't updated this blog in so long. Not because I haven't wanted to, but because ithe domain name expired while I've been "on the road" (a term I've learned to dislike). When I get a decent patch of time I'll be able to resolve this.

Where am I? I'm sitting on a plane in Tel Aviv en route to London. It's business class so I feel pretty great despite being up all night. The tour manager is next to me and he's fully blistered-- sauced to the point of gibberish mumbling.

We played to 50,000 people last night, supporting Depeche Mode. The band are really accelerating. All the venues keep getting upgraded to accommodate demand. The fans are intelligent and warm. I feel so privileged to be a part of their world.