The bikes had their own compartment on the tour bus: “Even when we went overseas, the bikes would come,” said Tim Keiper, a drummer. This group of musicians had toured with “American Utopia” when it was a more traditional rock concert a few years ago, and their matching bikes - a folding model made by Tern - came along then, too. Byrne clocked it all, surrounded by his bikemates. But even that became a moment for Byrnian wonder, thanks to a subway preacher and her acolytes, and an unexpected bit of ecstatic dance - the civic and the divine aboard the 7 train.
So, so drenched.Ī night that was meant to be a dreamy celebration of this multicultural city and its serendipitous connections, experienced from atop a bike seat, wound up in a (very) soggy group subway ride home. Moments later, the skies opened up: Tropical Storm Henri, arriving far earlier than the forecast predicted.
Byrne was always in the lead as soon as traffic disappeared, he removed his helmet, revealing his signature silver coif.īy the time we landed in Flushing Meadows Corona Park, the sun was setting. We might’ve blown a few stoplights, too, and caused some double-takes as Cole Wilson, the photographer, and his assistant, Bryan Banducci, cycled ahead of the group but peered backward to get their shot. We spun through families barbecuing on pedestrian blocks and dinged our bells along to the streetside cumbia and reggaeton. That Saturday, we pulsed through Jackson Heights toward Corona - two neighborhoods, Byrne observed later, that had been hit hard, early on, by the coronavirus - and saw the city’s rhythms change. “Riding in New York is - hoo-hoo!” trilled Angie Swan, the guitarist, who had moved here from Milwaukee to work with Byrne and was now dodging through a crowded bike lane. In interchanging pairs or spread out, our expedition took up half a city block. On the dock, he gave a few general instructions - hang a left at the big brick building, “go down for, like, a couple miles should I say when our next turn is? Sixty-first, we make a right” - and then we peeled off. His whole crew, castmates from “ American Utopia,” had been onboard, too. He was easy to spot, often dressed in somehow still-pristine white - as he was on this evening, stepping off the East River ferry in white pants, a blue guayabera shirt and brown fisherman sandals. In the Before Times, I could sometimes clock the velocity and verve of my nightlife by how frequently I intersected with him speeding to some event along the Williamsburg waterfront bike path. Byrne is, of course, a devoted cyclist: He’s written a book about it, and even designed bike racks last week, he took an e-bike to the Met Gala (so he wouldn’t get sweaty!) and checked his helmet at the door.
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