Last time that I saw Mick was around 99. He was ready to move to Iceland, because of a girl that he meet 2 years ago at NYC film school. Mick was bright kid, I wasn’t at the same school, but he used to come to the parties that I was doing at The Closet, we became friends quite soon. At that point, the tonic was bring every single post-punk record back. We used to dress like the guys from A Certain Ratio, used to slag all forms of modern dance music. Basically we were stuck between 79-82, the greatest years ever.
Mick was into music and film, at school his main activity was restore old footage from the past, that was his thing. But not post-punk movies… footage from the 20’s and 30’s. Footage without any sound. He used to spent long periods at the lab, baking film, doing edits… he was more a scientist than a filmmaker. Once in a while, we did a special version of our party at The Closet, we did three times only, Mick would bring weird footage, super 8, beta, pixelvision… you name it, and we acted as if we’re the coolest cats in town, doing a pretty trendy party, being hailed by Time Out as “the thing” and meeting interesting people.
He was living in Williansburg, and don’t think that was cheaper than now, the difference is that there was less publicity around, less bars… the atmosphere was the same, the same restaurants and cafes, and I can even risk that the bulk of the locals is the same, wich is quite cool. I was living near Coney Island, I had no option… my uncle was living in Miami and he basically gave me his flat to live. Was a long journey from Coney Island to anywhere in New York, I didn’t feel like a New Yorker. But at least I could catch a train, if I leave early, I could arrive anywhere. In the first year I missed lots of things, gigs, dates and dignity because of the bloody train, now I could even pass information to the punters.
On the hot summer of 2005 I saw Mick again. I saw him around Irving Plaza, I was there to catch The Rapture, was a comeback gig after record the new album, being quite excited I arrived early, the promoter was a friend and I knew the boys, they used to hang out at The Closet with the whole DFA posse before they fall out. I was in the cue, the press/guest list cue is always slow, it’s full of hipsters that “knows Alan Mcgee quite well”, as the Pooh Sticks used to sing; and when their names aren’t in the list, they bring from the pocket the lastest sidekick/blackberry model to show how important they are. Paying attention to a blonde girl, an indie version of Paris Hilton, I saw Mick.
He looked exactly the same, but was talking quite slow and calm, something very different from the past years. I asked if he fancied to come to the concert(we always carry a plus one, for a girl or for a friend… because only losers come to concerts alone, right? Losers like me… you ask for plus one just to look cool, but in the end of the day, you are alone my friend, and because of me, somebody will miss the concert), but he wasn’t into the idea of enter into a dingy venue in the middle of the summer.
So I left the cue, Mick was more important than anything. For fuck sake, 6 years without him. He was so unique, that didn’t have an e-mail! Never bothered… was impossible to track him, but as my mom always says “bad things always come back”, and he was back.
Talking so slow, I was quite scared that he had some acid trips and got burned out. You know, people in Iceland are quite intense… Bjork? Sigur Ros? Sugarcubes? Well… they are so intense that I mentioned Bjork twice. They drink a lot… they believe in elfos… they live in a pretty fucked up island, fire and ice side by side. Mick possibly didn’t handle that place, Damon Albarn might have a bar down there and The Fall recorded there, but both live in England, they can’t risk. So I was scared with Mick’s slow action.
But he was fine… just a bit different. Instead of tales of drinks, drugs, elfos and Bjork(that also live in England), he told me that entered into a pretty normal life, learned Icelandic(and told me few dirty worlds, just in case if I see Bjork around) and eventually broke up with his girlfriend. He was too calm for somebody that spent 6 years in a VERY different country with somebody that he loved so much to the point of leave his home. He told me that as soon he arrived, he got a job at the Sound & Image Research Foundation, he was restoring the whole history of Iceland, he loved… he said that was like watch a new planet being discovered, that language, their costumes, for good 4 years he was so immersed in that thing, that he completely forgot that he was american, he said that was like arrive at the island where Lost happened, but with lots of things to do, full of computers and without the Others. I was speechless. I never heard such fascinating history of life.
But I was too curious to know what happened with his girlfriend. Why he was back? And after some parallel stories and few more drinks, he told me the truth, that after few years he discovered that she was seeing, not for one night or two, but for solid two years, another guy. And that killed him… because in her vision, nothing was wrong. He listed every single thing that he did for the last 7 years, he remembered every single day that he could to find a major fault that make somebody engage into a side life. And he couldn’t… and worst, when they started to talk(or better to fight), he found out that she didn’t have an explanation either! She said that loved him, as much as she liked the other guy, and one thing was a addition to the other, nothing changed, that she loved him as much as the last 7 years together, but she had another guy that she also liked to hang out and sleep with him, the only thing that she said was sorry for not being clear, but she knew that he’ll never understand. And that’s exactly what happened.
For a couple of months they split ways. She went to a friends house and he keep the house, but was more than a premises problem. Without her, there was no reason to stay in Iceland, the very same day that this whole thing happened, he remembered that he was from New York, a sentiment that never bothered him before. After some time, she came back to the house and said that wasn’t seeing the other guy anymore, that Mick was more important to her, she made a decision. And for a little bit more time, was ok… but Mick was always paranoid with her… if she was late, he was thinking that she was with the other guy, he wasn’t paranoid like that, but I truly understand the feeling. And them a month ago he simply left Iceland, with only the clothes that he was wearing.
And he was back, back to the university. A masters degree was the only thing in his mind. After two hours talking about him, he was curious about me… and i had not much to tell him, The Closet ended up around 2001(the same Time Out said “any venue should die after 2 yers”), I was in the very same Coney Island apartment(but now I had at least cable tv) , still single but in love with a girl that didn’t bother about me and working at Getty Images. Funny that after I finish to tell that, the feeling that I was a big loser came pretty strong to me… just to hear from him that at least I didn’t have a big deception like he had. So a strange argument started, where I was trying to prove a point where at least he followed a dream, and had a life experience that I didn’t have, on the other side he was saying that I did the right thing and being young, I had all the time of my life to find new experiences that will knock in my door at any point, the only thing was that I had to pay attention to the door.
I returned home that night in a very slow train, the one that stop in every single stop from Manhattan to Coney Island, the one that every tourist get when they try to come to the Cyclone. But on that night that train made lots of sense, cos I had time to think about my life, about how slow was my life. Mick sounded slow, but I was the slow train.
Next day I decided to talk with that girl after months, just o find out that she was a single mom, quite angry with the human race and specially with the male specimen. She wasn’t harsh, but she was straight to the point. She simply said: I noticed you around, and I am quite flattered that you like me, but let me tell you something, I am trouble because of la la la la la la la la and them after hear that thing for one hour, I found out that I need something a bit lighter. Great girl, maybe better after few visits do a shrink or few sundaes.
On that afternoon I called Mick, his phone was off. That was a classic Mick move… simply turn off the phone. I just wanted to hang out with him a bit more. I spent the next two weeks in LA, meeting people related to my job. I hate LA, you can’t walk in LA, there’s no trains, there’s no Coney Island down there, only Venice… Venice sucks, no slow trains, not a city for me. As soon I returned to New York, another friend from The Closet days told me that Mick decided to quit the masters degree and moved back to Washington DC, his home town. He couldn’t handle NYC anymore, wasn’t his home anymore, he couldn’t come back to Rejikavick either… he could only find peace in a friendly city, not the meat factory that is New York. Last week I got an e-mail for him, he’s good, working on the congress library… he’s the one that convinced the library that Daydream Nation is a masterpiece. That’s his little tribute to New York, and God bless him.
