British Burma Chronicles

Roger Miller and Clint Conley


Thursday 25 April 2002


The space seems an odd set up to me. The stage, raised up hip high with a retaining metal bar affixed, looks so boxed in, uncomfortable in some way--a large empty picture frame. The room stretches out, widens, steps up, widening some more into the bar flat against the rear. As I contemplate this caged in quality, the sound check gradually comes together in its darkened hollow environs. While the afternoon sun heats up the London streets, in here an altered world of anticipatory preparation takes slow strides forward.


Jimmy ConleyJimmy Conley, a van driving/transportation wonder, is everywhere, ever cheerful: lifting/moving equipment and sorting/counting t-shirts and, and, and--surely a contender for nicest guy and "best" brother in the universe. They're waiting on a replacement "something". Sheri asks about the show at ATP the previous weekend. Jimmy beams that the show was "awesome", between 2500 to 3000 people. According to most maybe the largest crowd for any act that weekend!!!  



Peter Prescott

Roger is tweaking with stuff, wearing that Pipeline t-shirt. (I wonder how many of these he owns? or is it the same one?) The drums are set up and Peter's up there. um, earplug time. I watch Jon Strymish taking more photos--glad again that someone with talent will capture this on film. Gerard Cosley, yet another incredibly nice man, is at the back setting up the table with cds etc and talking with Rick Harte. And Mark Kates? Another one of those here, there and everywhere guys!!


Roger's off the stage and comes over to say hi.

More discussion about ATP. Roger's been at the site all week. Spent time playing with The Rachel's. They're gonna play with Burma during a song. Sheri takes this opportunity to plead once more for "New Nails".

Roger Miller


SHERI: "Roger, Peter said Tuesday you guys weren't going to play New Nails. I told him this was gonna make me cry. Geeze, if you're not gonna play it at least you guys could chant the chorus. Come on! Between a song or at some really inappropriate moment, spice things up!! Uh, or at least YOU could start shouting 'SAVE ME I AM NOT A GOAT!' Come on Roger, shout any damn time you please. If I don't hear someone shout that I don't know what I'm gonna do!"

Roger is amused but my pleas go nowhere. He chats some more and then goes outside to get some "light and air." Exit right.

Holly Anderson

The doors swing open from the left entryway, sheading some light inside. The bearers of light are, um, but of course, Holly Anderson and Clint Conley, clad in that spiffo leather jacket of his. A quick "HI" from the lightbearers.

Sheri talks with some of the Garage employees (I'm bad with names) and they are also really nice. One exceptionally nice young woman fetches Sheri and Jon some much needed water. More tweaking on the stage. Clint's up there now. Um, I notice Roger, returned to the darkness, is talking with Rick Harte. Sheri makes a nuisance of herself once more and asks Roger about his "Kuchkah Tay Zod" piece on the "Wrong Pipe" single. His response includes references to studying Latin, Greek and Russian, having put some Tolkien Elf poetry to music, made up language in Binary System and, and, and now he's off to the stage.

Um, finally all three are up there and it's a go. Unless my totally mesmerized brain betrays me, they're playing "Fame and Fortune." If I were to say what I feel at this moment, probably Burma's response would be, "I don't get it." That's okay if the band is a bit baffled by the fan response. At least they're on the stage again and we get the chance to baffle them. Let me add to the general bafflement and comment that to actually be in that space with maybe 10 other people with the Peter, Roger and Clint right in front of me echoing, blazing and cutting a sonic swath through the darkness that sliced my being in two and left me a quivering lump was, well, let's just leave at that.

Thanks to everyone for an afternoon to remember!


All Black and White Photos On This Page By Jon Strymish