My bandmates and I pulled our van up to the sidewalk in front of Carnegie Hall and unloaded gear in the morning sunshine. Not a ton of gear; we were using house equipment as part of a gala dealie honoring R.E.M., who’d played an important role in our youth. Nice guys, too. Unusually nice. I mean, it’s unusual for musicians who’re more famous than others to not be vaguely focused on the area over your shoulder when you talk to them. The R.E.M. guys look you in the eye.
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