Although I have never been to America, I have a good idea of what it’s like. In my head are cities, deserts, buttes, mountains, canyons, houses, cars, people, lakes, rivers, lots of empty space. And roads. Especially roads.

Evelyn’s never to been to America either. I harbor a desire to sling a couple of guitars in the back of a beat up Buick (it wouldn’t have to be a Buick, anything distinctly American would do) and play our way across the USA, taking our time, stopping off whenever and wherever we feel - staying as much as possible on the back roads where we believe the real heartland of America lies.

This fantasy, is, of course, fueled by watching far too many US road movies with evocative soundtracks. In reality, there would be problems. You drive on the right, the car is built by someone with mirror vision - everything is on the wrong side. Then there’s the language of the road. You have hoods, we have bonnets; tires/tyres trunk/boot; horn/hooter; fender/bumper; gas/petrol; windshield/windscreen, we have indicators - do you have turn lights? And let’s not get into that toilets / bathroom / restroom thing. George W. may be correct when he claims that the USA and UK “speak the same language” but we sure as hell don’t always use the same words. Most of those American terms I learnt from early rock’n’roll 45s which invariably featured a car, then, as now, a potent symbol of freedom and independence. Americans also have guns, lots of them. This, too, seems to be tied up with freedom and independence and is something we Brits find a little disconcerting. (For ‘a little disconcerting’ read ‘downright scary’.)

As we planned our imaginary journey from picturesque Boston to the bright lights of New York, down via the Appalachian Mountains where time stands still, and on to the steamy South (ours is to be no straight ‘coast to coast’ trip), it dawned on us that the America we were driving through is the America of films and of music - an America uncorrupted by reality.

I say ‘imaginary’ journey because until our previous album goes platinum (and to be frank, we’re some way short of that right now), well, until then, let’s just say the finances simply aren’t in place. Back on the road – we’re driving up through Kansas to the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado, then south through the Indian-haunted deserts of New Mexico and Arizona to the Mexican border and finally along the P.C.H. from San Diego to the dream or nightmare that is Los Angeles, through San Francisco, and on to Portland to end the journey in the rain of Seattle. Well, that’s one idea anyway.

I’ve pinned a vast map of the USA onto the wall, our route picked out in black marker - an imaginary road trip through a mythical country. And we’re working on the soundtrack…..

Jamie