In October 2001, as a member of a group called Huon, I set out on my fourth US tour drumming in an ‘indie’ rock band: a low-key, non-profit cross-nation trek performing shows in colleges, small bars, even a few suburban basements. It was an extraordinary time to travel across the States, particularly since much of it was spent in a hire car with only AM radio for entertainment. AM radio in the US is riddled with amphetamined shock-jocks outdoing each other in ways to vituperate the pernicious liberal élites. Apparently, these élites had just destroyed some skyscrapers in New York. More poignant was the way Osama bin Laden had so quickly become a player with the usual pumpkins and skeletons in Halloween festivities, his name inscribed in white gothic lettering on black cardboard coffins on suburban front lawns with an express wish that he ‘never rest in peace’.
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