Status: Single
City: London
State: London and South East
Country: UK
Signup Date: 10/27/2005
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Tuesday, April 07, 2009
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IDIOT TIME LAUNCH
We’re not idiots but we’re pretty much in Idiot Time.
Oh yes it’s black and white good and bad, bliss and grrr anxiety crumbling at our little feet. We’re in it deep, there’s no escape here. Feeling nothingness and everything joy and pain of our minute existences.We lose it cherish it as it clings to our breasts love it loathe it run away from it scamper ‘aahh get me away’ or embrace it ‘kissy kissy’.
I love idiot time with fists fly. Art misery and love spring like jumping lambs from it or on the other hand it’s just a pain in the fucking arse or it’s really idiot fun. Two sides to every story remember.
IDIOT TIME EP Launch Party; fun, black room, our rehearsal / Maurice Einhardt Neu Gallery, Shoreditch. Ok scene set.
Said we’d meet at 4pm (‘said’ different from ‘do’ as a musician you know).Typical band bastards, not that it’s never me, but I turn up good girl prompt if I had a starched collar I’d be wearing it and yes it’s just me there and Sean Mc Clusky, the ruler of our space, with his phone and leather jacket doing business and being helpful.
The shop-front window onto Redchurch St ’s blacked out for last day of Joel Lewis’ Cosmos exhibition so it’s down to me to scrape scrape the backwards words ‘Idiot Time’ into the window so the naughty little peekers can spy us through the window.
Me on my own scraping scrape scrape scrape black paint off with a little hinge that Sean’ s magically found in a plastic classic blokes tool kit, from Homebase or whatever, that’s knocking around by the toilet at the back of our place. I’ve dressed up (of course) for this job. Wearing my nice girl look up my skirt, you can’t, gig outfit, Mexican round skirt I bought in Toronto for $40 and Maaike Mekkings’ classic white top that I take off to wash.
The letters come fast a wide big D and a big round O, my arms hurt and I’m hot now, the little bits of black dust scamper on the ledge get in my throat.Start the letters too high, fucked that up, no one can see through this from the street, so its go back make the letters longer move it all down so the heads outside can eye spy with my little eye a little rock band.
Vee arrives bearing more vodka jelly in plastic boxes and bags and it’s all girls together amps heave ho from the back room where we practise. I like this gig. Stands, stuff, guitars, PA speakers , we’re the girls being strong arms, where are the boys when you need them ? oh they’re not here, we’’ll manage, years of feminism, we can take it.Ow my arms hurt.Need a boy.Straight back where we started from, can’t win but remember it’s not a game.
I can get into balloons, they divide opinion.Some people hate their bouncy squashy flick them up in the air ,why do you have to pretend you’re so young, clowns have them and they’re a bit spooky, thing.It appeals to me in all those ways, but why do they have to taste so bad. They make banana flavour condoms I mean we actually put these ones in our mouths why can’t the red ones be strawberry?
I’m lip burnt with plastic rubber, lungs happy to be working after cough cough asbestos black dust.Green pink white yellow purple a couple of pale blues, Happy Birthday bit scralled out, thankyou thick black marker, and write Idiot Time on them instead, go with the strange idiocy party connotation, fitting, floofy.I keep bursting them, the marker rips them up with one touch.I’m being gentle, not gentle enough apparently, this is ninja play.
Marc arrives ;
“look forget the balloons”
he says.
Pop.
Fuck how the fuck where the fuck time is tick tock idiot we need power we need to know where we are going to play. We’re by the window we’re along the wall we’re round and upside down we’re hanging from the ceiling we’re crawling up the walls we’re getting stressed we’re getting dressed we don’t know where we’re going to set up, in a line in a circle in a square, we ‘re arguing where are all the people going to go ?
Ok decided. Some in some out we’ll meet them at the door. Inside can see. Outside can see.That was hard tick tock. What time did you say they were all coming? Fuck.
We’ve all made a lot of vodka jelly, strengths, flavours qualities of vodka vary.Get the table ready at the back. Get the jelly, orange, strawberry, lemon, lemon and lime, blackberry.Everyone likes a bit of Tupperware, in the neat Stepford wives’ plastic boxes take the lids off fill it with half vodka half water 2 litres each 6 packs about of jelly warmed with a bit of the water. Mix it up, put in maybe orange juice instead of water, oh Marc you’re so fancy, mandarins, raspberries, lemons and limes cut. Yummy I’m going to be so fucked.And let the pretty young things and the old ones who are still pretty, come and feast, tongues out suck it all in, suck it all up.
It’s pre party nerves.
Anthony arrives ;
“can we play for like 3 hours?”
Er no.
Pop.
We’re squashed, sardines in a line, side on to the window .
My pals Cath and Chris arrive first prompt. Send them away, we’re in soundcheck hell mode, still feedback screaming, ears hurting, we’re shouting;
“no you go there!”
“ no YOU go there!”
“ I don’t want to stand there I want to stand here!”
“No you stand there, you can’t stand there !”
All the time feedback feedback mic’s too close to the PA speakers can’t help that angle it differently. Then the fuses go.
Typical.
Pop.
There’s a point in Idiot Time when it all comes together the peak of a wave and if you could chart our movements in the last hour going to fro up down now they would be making an “Ahh” shape. We’re happy we’ve got our positions we’ve got sound we’ve got power, now just bloody play will you.
Then it’s take the cover off ‘ta da‘ unveil we’re ready, no time like the present take the big silver shutter up reveal get this on the road get this show going you losers we’re waiting outside it’s cold we didn’t come here for nothing to watch you prance about we want to hear some shit we wanna get dark and feel your Idiot Time. Tick tock tick tock say the audience say the clocks.
Ok we’re doing it we’ll play then.
It’s busy buzzy filled up now everyone packed in and everyone packed outside peering in eye spy my little eye something beginning with R.
We play about 12 songs. I’m moving the mic here there everywhere not enough stands to do the keyboard switch to the guitar thing. We’re in front of everybody moving with them one big idiot snake.So close.
I can’t remember the order we did it in but we forgot to play ‘Future’ my favourite and we’d practised it so hard we were going with the moment on a flow. All I could see were the people smiling listening attentive better than any other venue. Here they were right in my face.I can feel them breathing on me they can feel everything that WE’RE FEELING . THIS IS BETTER. THIS IS THE WAY TO GO. SEEMS MUCH MORE ROCK AND ROLL MUCH MORE DIY LIKE EVERYTHING WE ALWAYS ARE ALWAYS WANT. THIS SEEMS LIKE THE RIGHT TIME RIGHT PLACE (the caps lock came on by mistake I was writing so fast but I’m going to leave it).
I’m mainly looking forward with the door, window and Marc and his Bassman amp on my right, Vee with keyboards and MPC on the left, then Anthony standing up with his drums beyond her, his back to the back wall. I can look to the side too the way my stand is angled but it’s pretty low and immovably crap which means I can’t look outside too much so first chance I get on ‘Worship’ (the song where I lose my guitar) I nip up foot onto the window sill. It’s pretty narrow but I was up here earlier doing the scrape scrape so I feel quite at home. I can see the whole of the street from here. I can see the people now. I’m up there on the ledge dancing like an idiot through the glass. There’s my ex I ‘m singing he thinks the song’s about him not just that he happens to be directly in my eye line through the big D .It’s cold outside and all the people maybe 50 or so are freezing and I want to be the perk up. They could see me like a little frog a little monkey scrambling up the vines of Idiot Time. Leering with a microphone pleading I can’t touch you. I’m on the glass splayed having fun I want to bring you in to the idiot Fun I want you all to be be mine.Bit wobbly on the heels but better fun up here than down there, for a minute.
Vee’s looking cool as fuck as always on the keys her 5th gig , she’s got it down. Popmobility holding one note blinder we’re going noise noise all around on and on taking us under and over.I’m feeling the gel of us together the ‘imagine what the audience hear’ able to step out of myself still play but be a bystander, that’s when it’s good when you can separate like an out of body experience. You know they can feel it.
The keyboard songs go down nice, the ballads ho ho. We play all the tracks except ‘Future’ (damn) from the EP and a new keyboard one ‘I know where you’re at’ as well as some that are coming on the next EP.
Anthony’s standing up playing his drums moving and shaking.Marcs’ jumping up slinging low slung hammering glowering.I see him and Anthony enjoying the rhythm they’re making together bouncing around.Sometimes we even smile a smile-o and at each other .
I look to my left Joels’ projections of the stars the planets whip around on the side wall and onto the audience nearest the vodka jelly. Wheels of planets stars above our heads circulating their own flight of existence between our own. The people’re shot through with light, bullet holes through their chests their eyes their faces, burning up under the cosmos some apocalyptic vision of the future or of souls coming out of their bodies their material body breaking up blending into the black background of the room.I think this in a flash as I look across the audience in between their vodka jelly and their listening.
The photographers are snapping, Joshua Ainsworth, Keef Martin, Innocent, Daniel Miller, John Meade and it’s so dark and silly in here and they’re very near.Then I see the phones go up outside and inside every now and then.Take the picture, will you ever look at it ? and what will you think? I HOPE YOU WILL BE HAPPY (It happened again, again I WILL LEaVE IT)
Next phase is the party phase I’m all hands on deck. Vika is being ‘beautiful assistant’ and doing her selling the EP, only £3 for 5 songs apples and pears can’t say fairer than that can you and handing out vodka jelly.Money in a little brown cardboard box covered in gaffa tape to cover up what it was before.What’s in the box not cover costs but we want the people to be happy and vodka is expensive but good and jelly is better than beer maybe we’ll make money one day but not about the money but the music but it helps.
I ‘m on a roll now, need a minute to think, stay in the light corridor breathe go to the back room sit down get my wits together.Rest out of the clamour for a moment.Then I can come out little bird bug see the people see my friends do party fun get wasted fucked right into Idiot Time again in a different way not playing but playing.
Then it’s head in the jelly kaleidescope doped from plastic spoonfuls. I walk outside into the cold, different corners of my life in huddles, post gig, on the street filling out Redchurch street. how fitting for a gig. Then some retire like old smokers into the den that they can’t smoke in to the Owl and Pussycat to talk of wayward times.
I’m butterfly flit in and out come back to the Gallery. Marc’s Djing, he’s switched my Tangerine Dream I put on, off, so we get all his ipod hits Daft Punk, Talking Heads, quick try bleed as many favourites out of the i pod as you can. It’s working people are in the mood for a Thursday.The ones staying’re in for the kill non 9am-er workers or so used to it that it doesn’t matter any more.
My mate Mike gets on the ipod but the noise pollution lady comes round with a big clipboard. She’s asking me names and addresses I politely excuse myself and run away shutting the door behind me. I can see her pointy finger bending look me in the eye beckoning through the big bad D of Idiot.I’m a naughty schoolgirl now in trouble with the teacher I’m laughing drunk cowering how unfair the big bad lady has to come spoil my fun. Guess it’s residential.. Marc goes out to deal with her. His Makarov charm obviously works better than mine and we’re told to just turn it down and keep the door shut.
The floor’s sticky.It’s all over, the music’s just too quiet now to rock the party look any harder. We fill bin bags of cans and bottles people ‘ve brought from the offie.Marc throws the Tupperware out,I rescue it no respect for the Stepford ways.They are licked clean the globules of residule jelly clinging on for dear life the last saviours of savour and flavour. We all wish there was an endless supply.I find a couple of black cardigans on the floor and a S.C.U.M. t shirt that I keep. Sleep when it gets light.
Idiot Time complete.
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Tuesday, March 31, 2009
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Current mood:  accomplished
MONDAY 9TH MARCH
So blue you could cut your teeth on it land speed record horizon this is sky. Frozen white lakes rivers straddle silt brown grey hills ice tights valleys on and on .This is Greenland. Jackson Pollock’d be proud.
Gay air hostesses lean over with Clamato juice, no free booze only budget to notch up hours.We think of Anthony on the Air Canada flight getting wasted. Bastard.
We ‘re going down,industrial zone trucks lego land, warehouses for miles,ice trucker paradise. I think of those guys with their bad backs and loneliness.An announcement casually says;
“We’re just going to stay in the air for a moment as they clear debris on the runway from the previous plane”
Er WTF? Wretch forward changing course dangle for more time.Sigh try not to look too concerned.
Now we’re in a film, or an indie band, so many hats, chequered shirts and beards. It’s fucking cold, because of the weight limit I’m wearing all the clothes I own,lucky strike. Marc picks up his bass at the fragile section. Broken headstock. Fuck. My guitar’s ok but the keyboard’s got a broken key. Ok this is going well.
The cab takes us over a high bypass, classic Toronto shot ahead the CN Tower, the 80’s slightly retro looking sky scrapers, sax solo, no sign of the wind machine yet but I might have to use Vees’ Vaseline on my shades.
Up Spadina Avenue (pronounced Spid-die-na) past China town up to Kensington Market, onto Nassau St. The cool bit , we’ve lucked out, bo-ho three storey houses wooden slatted fronts, market shops fruit and nut collages’ piled outside, rows of vintage shops, I ‘m excited, graffiti, cafes, bars, cross between the Wild West, Brighton and Berlin. It smells good the sun’s shining.You could sit in a caff writing a novel here but those guys must still be in bed it’s pretty empty.
This is porch country.The house next door to Kellys’, my friend where we stay, is blue and purple. We smile at the Chinese guy next door sweeping his front and the girl on the other side smoking on her stoop. We take the key from the ‘mail-box’. Feels good.
Ok gotta get that bass sorted. 4 muskateers’ first mission, guitar shop via ‘metro’ and ‘streetcar', looking like strays playing guitars we can’t afford I pretend I’m a country star strumming those ones with the metal body, me and Anthony jamm laughing like tourists. The assistants probably hate us. I wonder when I’ll be able to buy the guitars I want? Bass repair guy says it’ll be done Friday.
Kellys’ boyfriends’ recommended a place across the street “Mexi-Tacos” for nachos , dinner and Mexican beer. It feels like 8 pm even though its’ earlier, our heads are fucked already our British beer o’clock kicks in and we start to get wasted. I feel light headed a mixture of drinking psychologically in the day and being over tired.This feels really good too. We meet Kelly from work, last time I saw her was in my living room dancing to Voodoo Ray around 3am.It’s good to see her here, I’m nearly just as drunk.
We’re on the hunt, scavangers, picking up more gigs,chewing down. We head back to where the action is predator out.
So we’re walking down the road minding our own business, there’s a fight outside a bar. One of them’s a spit for Whoopie Goldberg or maybe we’re still in that ‘movie’. She is definitely not sober and trying to use her fists like a man inescapably being very much a girl. We slow down like we’re on the motorway cruising past an accident avoiding the scene but being morbidly curious. We watch this woman in bad camouflage pants and a record bag round her shoulders wobble cross the road then hit the pavement next to a bin. She picks herself up shouting the surreal loudly we follow her zig zags in the opposite directions along the road and go into the world of ‘Glassmores’, a blues ‘joint’.
In here it doesn’t get any less surreal. A social club type place with Chinese owners, long put up tables looking like a canteen in a truckers caff, about 10 people .One‘s so intent on head-nodding furiously to the sax solo I think he’s taking the piss and have to watch him for the whole song just to make sure.The singer‘s doing the spazz jazz robot dancing, in her 40s wearing a Katherine Hepburn style suit, I like her she’s got a good voice and she seems a bit crazy, I shake a bit at the thought of my future. There’s a balding sax player hunched pianist and bearded drummer. Then in walks ( of course remember this is a ‘movie’) the Whoopie Goldberg lookalikie. stumbling over to the band she stands straight in front of them, one hand resting on the edge of those tables that you’d paste wallpaper on swaying and starts shouting;
“I love you !I LOVE YOU!”
For one song I guess that could be ok they are musicians after all but 4 songs in and as “All of Me“ kicks in, she’s still professing her undying. The novelty, sincerity and the bands’ patience starts to wear off. Poor Whoopie gets shown the door.. again. Will she ever learn? We leave, the show’s obviously over and cross the road to El Mocambo to go get another gig.
Yvonne the promoter‘s fucking funny. Welsh lady, blonde hair pink ends, cross between Pam Hogg and Debbie Harry.She makes us laugh, picks Marc up on the English/British thing and we hustle to play on Friday night. Job done we head over to ‘Ronnies‘ bar across the road on Nassau St with Kelly and her lovely long blonde hair and Jonny her flatmate with a big amazing beard.
It’s dark and loaded in here groovers climb the walls, reminds me of Dalston on a Sat night. We drink Weis Beir watching the drunk Canadians not be particularly different to the drunk Brits but wearing a lot more clothes and there’re moose antlers on the wall. Jonny‘s managed to get us another gig at the Smiling Buddah where his friend does a Wed night and says he’ll lend Marc his bass for the show, as well as a power adaptor and any other shit we need. What a guy.We‘re relieved if the other gig comes off we’re laughing. We go to sleep listening to “Heavy Vegetable”. Even if they were bad I would still like them.
TUESDAY
We enter the world of the Spinagel.This is it.Spinach and Ricotta bagel, see how clever that is ? Bagel is too small a word. We eat it with a cod dumpling on the side. My world is now in decline I‘ve tasted that soft… succulent… greasy greatness I know I‘ll be searching for it’s replacement forever. We listen to the Upside–Down and get a tip for a bus to Niagra Falls.
Hop on the bus Gus and get yourself free. This is casino bus land they clean you out later in return for the cheap fare. We overcome logistical nightmares to get outside the China Centre to meet Anthony just in time for the 2 o’clock bus. We slowly realize (as they do) that we are NOT Chinese Canadians. Only other non-Chinese face on the coach is a fat American guy with a baseball hat. We’re trying to blend. The driver turns round starts making a fuss about us not having ID more of his gang're queuing up we’re in the last few seats obviously taking up space.I kinda get the feeling they don’t want us here. We’re just not giving out the dollar sign today. We hop off the bus jetlag’s setting in things are becoming a little difficult to negotiate.
We decide to head to the lake instead, manageable.The tram driver asks us what band we are, says he’ll check us out on myspace.
It’s still fucking freezing but by the water it’s windy too.We get a sharp shock of well needed air, we're inflatables.Pumped up we cruise round the harbour, tourists.Drizzle and wind freezing ice in the lake, fog over the skyscrapers, wide horizon, kitsch cruise boats moored not going anywhere today. I like a bit of bleak. Feels like the scene where the exes meet up.
“Niagra would’ve been shit today”
we say.
As much as I love a bit of freezing wind we’re English and need a sit down tea and cake scenario.Welcome to the glorious world of “Tim Hortons”..Wow what a guy! Not ONLY a 70’s hockey star but he has his own ‘restaurant’. Ronald Mc Donald just can’t compete HE didn’t even PLAY hockey. Ok so I was skeptical at first but like an addict I can’t live without Tim by the end Sour cream donught and vanilla cappuccino.Sweet as sick.A Canadian back in England asks if I‘d had “Tims’ Bits” there, (er the holes from the donughts) God I was REAlly sorry I didn’t know about them then.
A guy walks into the place. White shades, real player cool as fuck. Starts making a scene says he can’t open the toilet door, that it’s locked. The girls behind the counter are pretty wet. They mumble something inaudible about it not being locked (they’re right it’s not I‘ve tried it’s just a bit 'sticky'). He kicks off saying ;
“I don’t want to be ignored! I used to work in Tim Hortons! I know the customer’s always right! I shouldn’t be treated like this! “
ETC
He’s got a big ass chip and he’s asserting his new found power now finally being on the other side of the counter and he’s definately feeling a bit of a dick as he just didn’t push the door hard enough and he looks pretty hard.
Ok so I’ve seen that movie with Michael Douglas, you know the one where he gets out of his car on the motorway in rush hour totally freaks out in the fast food place? this is it.Marc pipes up that I had trouble with the door too. The guy feels a bit better, strength in numbers, someone’s on his side. He leaves feeling less invalidated. Phew luckily we’re not in that film. You see Tim’s is the place for the action. It‘s a wet Tuesday and it does feel like there’s not much to do round here.
We find a tourist shop, browse around the maple syrup then find ourselves tardised inside the foyer of the Sheraton Hotel. We take pictures of eachother on different chairs. Pretty lame but fun.
There’s a big glass window that overlooks a courtyard, a real waterfall- up- a- mountain scene with proper pines.You look at the view from the warm on a big wicker rocking chair reading the paper. All these business men don’t even have to go hiking.Genius. We get a guy to take our picture in front of it. He says;
” Yeah I got everything in! It looks great! ”
We check it as we’re walking away there’s just a blur of light. The guy’s way too crazy to go back and ask again.
We decide to walk through the emerald city back up to Kensington Market, we stop by a huge phallic gold skyscraper. You can imagine the thought behind it ;
” I know.. we’re like really rich.. the company who‘re gonna rent this are gonna be like REALLY rich.. Lets make it like …frikkin GOLD ! HELL YEAH !”
We take our picture in front of it. We’re well impressed.
We’re living the high life now we want lobster (ok it’s cheap here).We face it look it in the eye as it sits on a plate waggling its tied claws and eyes on stalks for the last time, pleading. Not as bad as the story someone told me of eating a fish in Tokyo as it was being filleted alive on their plate, or in the same place swallowing little fishes alive so they tickle your tummy as they swim around. Me and Vee look disturbed. We eat the lobster when it arrives without thinking only pausing to wonder what makes it turn from black to pink.Animals.
We head back ‘home’.I’m drinking lime juice, voice tired, get ready for gig tomorrow. I’m listening to freaks in my band, looking at the CN tower from the living room window glowing red and blue. Slay me with your words, put me up into your tree. Headbang in your mind. Biker boys walk past. Listen to Canadian radio, to our EP skip, Kaius ,have a word off on facebook play off on You Tube. Cameo, Black Sabbath, Fleetwood Mac. The freaks drink plum wine and rum. I can’t. Fucking annoying. Marc and Anthony head out to Ronnies for late drinks and smokes.I fall asleep wishing I wasn’t the singer.
WEDNESDAY
Up at 8.Go for a run.The freak in the freezing up and down Kensington market past the hospital over into the suburban roads with the 4 or 5 storey houses, too early for Bohemia. Shops, cafes shut only a couple of people from round here off to work. I’m fucked the last of my get up and go gone for a minute. Back to bed. Must remember to pace myself..Jetlag comes in waves. I sleep and dream of 80’s power haircuts. Hangover crowd get coffee. I do singing practise. I’m such a good girl beat me now.Listen to Sebadoh “Bubble and scrape” and watch Star Wars Xmas Special.
We get 2 trams down to Union Station to the Fairmont Royal York Hotel to conference land.It’s time to get passes register and get corporate.
The hotel’s all a bit bad glamour, chandeliers, mezzanines and rooms called things like The Territories Room, The Ontario Room. the obligatory long corridors of faun and brown carpet, swirls of indeterminate flowers and leaves and dark maple panels to take the edge off the glitz that hurts the eye and mind.We get bumphed up with bags and books like our first day at school and get out of there quick to get to the gig.
At ‘Smiling Buddah’ more beards and a hell of a lot of woolly beanies. There’s a name for them here but was one of those words that just wouldn’t go in.
We watch “Pace the Stairs” 2 little brothers and their cute drummer mate scream, yelp and roll on the floor with their pants showing.Me and Anthony work out that this is ‘screamo’. They’re a cross between the Mars Volta and Slint. Pretty entertaining. I chat to the singer after, he tells me;
“I ve been in bands since I was ten”
Jeez that must be a whole like 6 years tops maybe?
“..I‘m pretty deaf”.
Not as deaf as me I think.
Anthony’s pretty off it. He’s been hanging out with his Canadian uncles who live here and they‘ve been intoxicating him. He’s pretty paranoid by now after all the ‘intense’ music and asks me for a hug. Times are hard.I feel like we’re in Metallica. This is just the beginning of this feeling..
Then we play. Nothing works, midi out of sync with the keyboard, power supplies don’t match up. This is the first time we’ve used this shit abroad now Vee‘s here on keyboards. We have to give it up. All the good sounds we’ve programmed on the computer are all wasted. We have to put up with the preset, slightly changed by Marc in 30 seconds on the Korg Poly 900.Oh well we tried. You learn.Fucking losers. Need to buy a keyboard we can travel with. Something light. We play well considering the lack of what we’re used to. A rehearsal really. Iron out the kinks.We find out when we get back to London that our keyboard was actually broken from the flight.Nice.Helpful.
A video of a clown playing a guitar loops behind us.. about right.
I’m feeling the moose, feeling the cold. We get why everyone looks like they’re still outside or up a tree I’m just glad I don’t smoke.
Then come Terrahale, a girl singing on drums and two guys playing expensive guitars made to sound crap.
We’re drinking Molson. Jonny, Kelly’s flatmate with the amazing beard, tells me it’s shit beer the teenagers buy when they first get drunk not knowing any better. Sounds about right. I think it’s great.You can imagine the drunk guy from the Simpsons ordering a dozen of them.I’m so in.
Then the Magic People from Boston hit the stage. A wild card.I like the singer. He calmed me down before I went on stage. We couldn’t find the tuner so I asked him if he had one. He just looked at me blankly and said in his American drawl;
“ Do you think the Beatles had a tuner? “
I think I’m in love.He got changed on stage out of his hoodie and proceeded to put on a short sleeved hoodie with green bits of PVC on it, open at the front with his beer gut hanging out and arm warmers.
Anthony leans over to me stoned and says;
“You’re not going to make any new friends with a physique like that”
They sound like John Carpenter and Lou Reed playing Logans Run. The singer on bass playing a bass drum with his foot, and a guy with a huge handlebar moustache playing an Arp Quartet. People left.
The singer goes;
“This one’s about Dave Lee Roth!”
then later;
“Feel free to leave and go to bed.. we’ll just keep playing… this one’s about kittens..”
Amazing.We danced in the empty space in front of them as the room cleared.
THURSDAY
I can feel the business burning, we’ve got meetings to go to. Breakfast first. We go to the hot place on Kellys’ recommendation, Saving Grace on Dundas, with the even hotter waiter and the hot poached eggs and bacon and broccoli and sweet potato.Vee has smoked salmon tart, Anthony has French toast with bananas and maple syrup, dripping. Marc and Vee go pick up the bass get the keyboard sorted, me and Ant get a cab back to the hotel to rock the conference look.
We’re rushing. End up at the wrong place, get another cab to the right place. Not awake yet. Wish I’d been on the cappuccino side of the table and not the green tea one.A security guard on the door says we can’t get in it’s overcrowded. Fuck.Fuck. Can’t believe it after all that.Won’t. We loiter and when she wanders off we slip into the back.Pros.The room’s heaving with anticipation and frustration. Musicians. This is schmooze till you lose. Anthony’s chilling with his eyes closed.
Everyone we meet’s friendly, the Brits a bit more edgy, apart from the cool head of Domino Records, who goes;
“Great ! Brits !lets go to the pub”.
Nice.I like this guy a lot.
The Canadians are relaxed and helpful as are the thousands of delegates from LA,you can spot the difference in the tans. We come away with cards like it’s Xmas .
This is the land of the silver fox. So many possibilities here and so many men balding.
Me and Anthony are a bit bored.We’ve wandered round the hotel full of black suits. We need to rock,there’s a piano on the mezzanine,dangerous with all these loose loser musos around. We’re baited. Outside the lifts opening and shutting we start playing. I sing a song I wrote on the piano over Xmas, Anthony’s doing harmonies. A photographer comes over says he works for some big photographic agency in Canada shows me some beautiful shots of Madonna and Hockey games. He can’t come to a show as he’s shooting Gene Simmons but ‘ll come when we play in August. Steve Dormer you can look him up.He was a nice man.
There’s too much looking around what can I do for you. The business looking for the next big thing the musicians wanting to be the next big thing. I feel a little sick and giddy with the biziness. The record industry shaking on its last legs everyone talking but nobody saying anything except get out there tour stay on the internet at all times. Fuck I need an iphone or a blackberry. Some delegate was literally speechless when I said I didn’t have one. I’m off down the shops now.
DIY ‘s the only way. We feel the force. People are back-slapping. We’re high fiving and low fiving.. a lot. It’s become a bit of a sad joke that we still find it funny as we say it in a Borat voice.
Me and Anthony talk about heavy childhoods and the story about The Stones playing at El Mocambo in the 70’s , where we’re confirmed to play tomorrow. Apparently the Canadian Prime Minister and his bi-polar wife were at the gig (this is the 70s) and she ends up hanging out a bit ‘too’ much with Jagger and co. He gets jealous, as the story goes. and eventually divorces her.
Anthony says;
“I love women who are bi-polar. They re so attractive”.
Marc and Vee turn up and join us for more coffee refills in the Library Bar with red walls and books that nobody wants.
It feels like winter. It’s been snowing today. We’re on one big band bonding trip, better than paintballing or rockclimbing. High Five.
FRIDAY
It’s always all about PR.We enter the hype PR stunt word off between Gene Simmons and Bob Leftz a journo/blogger. They’ve been exchanging e-mails slagging eachother off for a few days now and today they’re going to have a face off. We go like everyone else for the fun of it? Gene gets to publisise his new label and Bob gets to er.. get his name known.
Gene keeps saying;
“So who are you anyway ?”
There’s a “Meet the Brits” thing going on in The Territories room. We're not invited. I guess for delegates not bands to steal the free booze and food, so we sneak in assertively. By the look of it we’re pretty much the only Brits there. We spot our old pal Howard from 93ft east days and overhear someone next to us mention our old label boss.We do eat the free food and drink the free booze so I think we fulfill our British role pretty well.
Marc and Vee head off to see Bloc Party,Anthony's at his Uncles and I head back to Kellys’ last chance to hang out with her while she packs for SXSW tomorrow.Bitch. We wanted to go couldn’t afford it.Choices choices,Canada won this time. I get my shit together for the gig tonight at El Mocambo. We’re on at 2am. Pretty hardcore. We arrive about half 1 with a tee-shirts-off band playing ska punk.. the Johnsons.. awful breakfast music because it feels like its about 8 in the morning, we all had to have a bit of a rock n roll lie down before we came.
We play to a bunch of hardcore skaters who are going nuts jumping up and down punching the air, someone’s throwing a leather jacket around and some drunk girls stage invade with their handbags still on.Amazing gig. Nice one Randys mates;)
We ‘ll definitely be back playing here. I can feel the spectre of Jagger on the stage. We watch Malloy, another UK band from our local Shoreditch. We shout:
“SHORE- DITCH!”
at them affectionately.
We eat more Chinese food with our instruments stuck behind our chairs in the corner.I get to bed around 6.
SATURDAY
Marc and Anthony head back to the conference to another meeting, Me and Vee stay in the area catching up on sleep and water. I head out shades on it’s way too bright light. Everyone else is sunny Saturday shopping mode market’s heaving with enthusiasm and consumerism. I‘m mango smoothie and a spinagel for the last time. Feel like shit, red eye without the camera. Back to Kellys to sleep some more.Another gig tonight.So dull having to look after your voice, I wanna just get fucked like these guys‘ve been doing. I ‘ll get into trouble later for this.
Tonight we play Rok Boutique. Get a cab down there they tell us there’s no soundcheck come back later. Disappointment, could’ve done without the unnecessary. Back to Kellys’ again, strange sleep patterns too much partying we‘re whacked out, don’t know where we’re at at all.We’re doing the zig zag eyes open head up.
It’s sound engineer nightmare, DI boxes fucked, patched in wrong, we’re still suffering our curse keyboard sync shit.Poor marc’s sorting it out trying to keep it together.Stress. We play 5 songs before they make us stop due to their scheduling. Frustrating. Well show’s over I can get wasted.
Walter Mitty and the Realists ,blue eyed twinkle in their eye cute irish boys play after. We laugh outside a lot with them. I’m now finally drunk. Thank fuck for that. I neck as much plum wine from marcs’ bag and beer as I can to make up for my days of abstaining.
Anthonys’ relatives want to go to Grossmans, the weird jazz place.His Uncles, Aunts and cousins from Trinidad buy me tequila and crisps. Anthony buys me organic beer.I’m trying to be funny over waves of giggling hyena hysteria.I leave my coat behind. It’s dark as we cross the road to El Mocambo to find Marc and Vee who ‘re supposed to be there watching Bloc Party singer DJ. They’d gone back to the house.We go in, keep the party going.
I end up going for Chinese food again with Anthony and his cousins. We‘re basically in China town so keep walking past these restaurants late at night.I‘m starving, I’ve hardly eaten all day. Deep fried spicy chicken wings, pork, pak choi and Singapore noodles. Incredible.Bit of a weird day.
SUNDAY
Our last day. L. I go back to Grossmans, find my coat in a lost belongings box by the door. The guy at the bar doesn’t even look up as I take my coat from the top of the pile, there‘re a lot of hats and scarves and jumpers in it, I look down again for a moment hands tempted by my jumble mentality then put my coat on and leave.
Cram in last minutes market time buy stuff drink coffee in the sun. Marc and Vee do silly cool sunglasses 5 dollars each. I do vintage shops quick must have bargain brown wool coat for $15 from an old hippie lady with long gray hair who tells me the coat reminds her of her 60s’London days.I find a Mexican childs’ 50s’ tourist round skirt $40 with a sequined peacock and sombreros on it, a waistcoat with tassles for $7. There’s an entire shop with things for $10. Anthony’s impressed as he holds up a slightly dodgy jumper eagerly.
Well that was the last quick stop before the airport’ bye bye Canada’ one more stop apple fritter Tim Hortons and up in the air. See you in the summer back in August on our way to the US.Next time I want to see some moose and maybe we’ll even get to Niagra.Yeah it would've been shit anyway.
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Friday, February 13, 2009
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Category: Music
ER.. ANY CHANCE OF MY SOUL BACK ? RED ROCK VIDEO BLOG
Preparation’s never been a strong point of mine lucky the rock and roll game instant immediate spontaneous is mine. Make a video you can just shoot shoot the real bang bang. We've got our rehearsal room fag butts on the floor , scrawl graffiti on the walls from boys in a band putting their badge on. How many words for tit can you come up with in red finepoint. High brow ,elevatory wanting to be men loving the freedom the boy has. This place a heroin chic dream even the master Pete D himself graced the floor at one time or another, with half blown speakers, half working amps accumulated from people who've more sensibly than I outgrown their teenage dreams and a couple of heaters to strike the big freeze out of the ancient room. Underneath the paint there's left over wallpaper from who knows ,the 40s maybe and the stench of the drains like an occasional friend wafts up from could be even earlier. A David La Chapelle video this is never going to be.
Andy Hui, our friend, wanted to shoot something for us after a few years of watching eachother grow like wild plants. This place, our rehearsal space is the Maurice Einhardt Neu Gallery in Redchurch St, an art school dream, a Warholian idea in bud. Everyone wants to be a Velvet Underground. Bands like S.C.U.M , Experiment on a bird in an Air Pump, Vegas Whores, Migs, Lion Club all operating out of the space under Sean ‘King of Shoreditch’ Mc Cluskey and Martin ‘Art magi’ Tickner's art rock magic wand.
It’s a Thursday in December. It’s cold like Siberia and drizzly like London. Sean from Vegas Whores is doing a performance in the front window of the gallery while we set up in the back. Lights camera action from every orifice. I watch and wait, we perch on palettes peering through the shop window from the street at him playing swathed in luminous green light, banks of TV s and strobes surrounding his noise beauty. Then I'm back in the back when he is done and it's our turn in the rock and roll relay.
Marc falls through the front door, already drunk 'I'm so drunk, I don't even remember my name', clutching a bottle of vodka Hunter S style, wine in his bag, today happening to coincide with some pre-christmas commitment to drinking since midday.
My only commitment right now is to anxiety of hair and clothes but that in all its frantic forms's taken care of by Keicherro Hirano. I lay myself open to his hair and make up creation. I know i can relax. A Mies Van der Rohe of hair, it’s a ship, it’s a tower block , it’s a field of dandelions , the sun on a river , an art deco lamp. Then there were the clothes by Maaike Mekking. Again her designs are like a hummingbird drinking nectar from a flower in a nature photograph , faultless exquisite. She makes proper things that women wax on about; how they feel like a woman etc, feel different, things they write about in the fancy magazines. Hers is like that. Talent.
Andy, Phil and Chris of "The Three Pronged Attack" shift and shuffle around, a nest of snakes fixing and focusing, moving and planning, looking and changing. So much for my bang bang shoot shoot I know I know nothing. They've got very different ideas of preparation than me. I know I am lucky, bloody singers. We're in the back corner playing loud loud along with the song playing from the laptop a double ear splitting onslaught, normal then double speed while the crew buzz like flies. There’s Vodka. There’re Keicherros’ buddies from Hamburg, there’s Keith Martin rocumentary-photographer-extraordinaire snapping everything, there’s my friend Erica, we're handing out splitting eardrums like candy.
It’s much harder than a gig. Have to still be in the moment find the feeling without actually playing a version you would in that moment, with a camera in your face. Especially the times when they shoot me without my instrument where the guitar can't be my crutch my security blanket my half outlet. I can see where the idea of the camera taking your soul came from, this is voodoo shit this is lying on the floor naked with people looking at you capturing your emotions in a little bag. I know I shouldn’t give a f***, the punk inside me's screwing his (it’s a boy) toecaps down hard when I enter the anxious and consuming world of vanity. The boys seem to get by easier. Anthony on drums just doesn’ t seem to give a crap. He even suggested doing the shoot in his underpants, Jack Black style , AND this is coming from a man who wears a blue nylon suit and checkered tie. Marc's a bit more conscious, not particularly today with assistance, but likes a hat to hide behind to keep him covered up. He can just look 'a bit grunge' and still look fucking 'cool', whatever that means, but it seems to take me a bit more work. Bastards.
So I 'm standing against the toilet wall with a thousand bands’ stickers looking like they've been scratched off by a thousand birds of prey, singing my heart out about the nature of love with a lens down my throat. Hard going. I even pushed the camera away at one point during ‘reach reach reach’. It’s not their fault but it naturally instinctively feels invasive, unless you’ re acting I guess.
Then Phil who’s holding the camera says “Yeah that’s it loads of anger” and the Video Paranoia sets in. No you don ‘t get it it’s not anger.. I wrote Red Rock half way between Vegas and LA in the Nevada desert in the back of a really hot hire car looking out over the wide expanse of scenery of rocks wanting to throw myself into the abyss of everything, wanting to open my head up, shout, fuck, live at a hundred miles an hour then live slowly. Phil backtracks “Er I mean passion yeah..? “ Screwed. I guess there was frustration there, the feeling of all potential that America gives you that anything’s possible, then you come home and no-one likes a winner baby and it’s hard hard hard again and you want to rip your heart out of your chest and give everything away and no you ‘re not living in a wooden house on the top of a hill. Mm.. Passion yes that‘ll be it.
Then I'm up against the mirrored studio door paint dripping down it with graffiti scrawled in black biro that says ‘credit crunchie anyone’. Meanwhile the boys are drinking vodka running off like scampering elves having fun elsewhere. Marc goes missing for some time, while Anthony rolls like a stuck stag beetle down the corridor and bangs his drums ape like con vigour victorious. Marc eventually returns with Keith to pull his hat further down over his eyes, probably just as well, then manages to pull off a hands in the air move, looking like the second coming.Genius.
Well that’s it now. We ‘re all free. They‘ve got our souls. That’ll lighten the load. So what now? Don‘t they make some kind of bargain with the devil in the movies try barter their soul back or something..? mm I‘ll call Andy in the morning.
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Sunday, November 16, 2008
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Category: MySpace
Thankyou ! We have just been nominated by listeners to be featured on The Best of Myspace Podcast, currently in the itunes music podcast top 100. The song Red Rock is featured on the podcast 44. Its a great pod cast + its free to subscribe.. check it out ! : best of myspace pod cast - click here
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Wednesday, August 20, 2008
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Hosted By: Rubicks playing for The Playground When: 24 Aug 2008, 21:00 Where Proud Gallery THE HORSE HOSPITAL, STABLES MARKET, CHALK FARM ROA London, NW18AH United Kingdom Description:Rubicks playing for The Playground Click Here To View Event
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Thursday, May 01, 2008
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BELFAST 3rd March Monday
Early bird. 530 start, get a bus get another bus get a plane get a cab get there godamn..Surrounded by hills. Lived there when I was a kid till age 5 haven t been back since excited to see what i remember. Nothing part from orange segments at infant school playtime. A pretty town. There s a radar of heaviness underneath but maybe only if you know the history. Wierd.
Finally we re out of the sunlight and in the darkness of the Spring and Airbrake and see the Numan lot for the first time since our last ,same crew same smiley faces.They re all busy doing their jobs making it all happen. Simon the sound guy. He knows everything about sound. Quacks the guitar tech. He knows where everything is and sorts everything out. He s my saviour even though I m itsy small fry he ll nod disapprovingly at my shambolic set up and help me out. Big G the co ordinator who s been with Gary since the early days.Seen a few things.
We re easing in tonight with a few hundred capacity venue. No dressing room for us,sharing with Numans.Our hire gear, like a good ampeg and fender twin ,is waiting patiently for us alongside a slinky sky blue kit courtesy of the venue.Easy.
Rest rest sit sit feel the flight ease off. Gary and Gemma blow in . Aw .Immediately fun.It s been a while I d forgotten what a cute couple they are how funny and beautiful Gemma the lovely pink princess is and for a rock star how normal and nice Gary is. Felt like being at home for xmas dinner.But that dressing room was a bit grim, claustophobia breeding, bit much for a monday afternoon not the kind of place you want to spend a day in .We needed to see some sights make like a tourist, fuck sniff some some fresh air for a change while we had some time.
And so we end up in Debenhams, as you do ,trying on Dior make up as you do while Gemma found mascara and Gary sprayed Alien aftershave and wondered what the hell he was doing there.Walking round the shops with Gazzer,kinda out of context, just like any guy being dragged round a store by his girlfriend. How many fans would kill for that eh . Then into some dodgy clothes shop trying to find Chris McCormack the rock god Gary s guitar player and Ravey Davey the keyboard player. No sign just a lot of bad clothes. Time to get back, quick stop Gemma buys fries for Gary, pretty much all he eats by the sound of it ,we wrestled tuna sarnies then back for soundcheck, few 'va va s vee vees' then into the pullava that is show biz baby.
We had a few guests coming tonight,Saul who had jammed drums with us then moved to belfast and Marcs' friends' dad Vincente who was going to be our hospitality for the night.
Back in the dressing room caught up with Gemma on her new baby, Alpha Moon cute pics.3 gels nows.Gemma did the girls eye on the wardrobe help thing.Good to have the female around for a bit of sanity,you know talk tights shoes etc someone to whom clothes combinations matter.. the important things in life.So many geysers around the whole time. So having got sorted with my little black satin vintage dungaree shorts, flesh coloured old school top shop blouse ,white tights and pink patent kurt geiger shoes, we got tommorrows sorted too,on a roll baby, the black shorts and sequined blue ,green and purple top with black tights and the same shoes..Headache over.
Chris kindly lends me his spare guitar as mine is shit basically.Its a big F hole one and it sounds lush,bit big for me but his spare's better than my proper one.. I ll be wanting to break a string.No Rob from Sulpher this time on guitar, he s away playing with Marilyn Manson painting his face white and dressing like Edward Scissorhands.Only Rob and johnny Depp could make that work. I ve seen the pictures lookin good baby lookin good.
Our gig was over too quick didn t feel like we d really settled into it. Maybe it was all the travelling,the sound wasn t great on stage everything seemed a bit hard work. It was only our new drummer Anthonys 2nd gig with us baptism by fire for sure.Throw him to the lions.We played lots of new songs, always much more difficult than playing the ones you know inside out,the ones you don t have to think about now that muscle memorys taken over and you just feel them from the inside.Takes a while to get over yourself rid the self consciousness and just feel the song.Still felt good playing lots of new stuff.
Watched most of Garys set but it was packed and sweaty and hard to get a good look I was starving too .The tour manager wasn t letting us into the dressing room to eat while Gary was on stage so I had to eat my sandwich in the venue, feeling the gig sweat go cold and uncomfortable .Not ideal at all , all makes for a bit of a lame after show experience.Need a bit of time to sit quiet unwind ..eat. The crowd were really into it and the feeling was good in the audience though. Gary said he d enjoyed it too.. also warming up into it..He said its hard revisiting the past like that.
Duffy of "Mercy" fame was playing next door and we had to go through that part of the venue to get to somewhere we could hang out, the production office was a lovely wide space with a few sofas.. took ages to get there though ,out of one venue outside into another get through the crowds go through a door up the spiral staircase through the double doors through the door with the code.Bloody hell I just want to grab a couple beers .Have to sit down for half an hour muster the strength for the journey back.. Listened to a bit of Duffy. Quite a different vibe you could say from next door . Much mellower of course, a lot of 60s looking hairdos, rammed too,if you were at the back you were too far away to get the vibe.Stadium rock this ain't.She s got a lovely voice and was born in welsh pop idol .Overheard someone in the audience who d just come in saying"has she done Mercy yet?".I guess thats the way it goes in the pop world the audience know the hit thats it..
I was glad to get out of the venue at the end of the night and get a cab back to Vincentes , a long arsed day. Marc and Anthony got accosted by a gaggle of girls coming out of the Duffy gig who wanted to know where they were going and if they could come with them .Unfortunately for them we were going somewhere they were nt and the cab was waiting so that was that. The girls were very disappointed. Aren t there any decent looking men in belfast ?
10 min cab ride later and we were in the Twin Peaks Hotel,Vincentes house.. all floral carpets mustard and green walls, the smell of a thousand lung busting Spanish fags hanging from the curtains and a table stacked with candles and wine, true mediterranean styley. Vincentes ex wife and mother of Marcs' friend Sean, the beautiful Siobhan with the almond eyes and 45 plus years worth of stories and two of their friends Shelia and another middle years lady were there. One was studying 'psychic studies' somewhere...yes you can do a course in it..my psychic abilities told me she d also been studying the consumtion of alcohol real hard that day..
Vincente was originally from the Canaries and got out his finest Canarian brandy and stuck on some Manu Ciao a spanish singer.. Memories of a Fueteventura holiday fish with capers and butter sauce and that brandy with ice that tastes like oranges after a meal came winding in.So there was a lot of that, a lot of red wine and some single malt Scottish whiskey we d brought him .We did the taste test alongside an Irish one that had been sat in a peat bog for years and tasted of smoke,( not quite those spanish fags ),and well our present came off a bad second..Turns out he doesn t even drink whiskey anymore, not for about 10 years makes him go a bit crazy apparently and if you were to meet Vincente.. ah huh.. no best stay off the stuff. It was the Canarain brandy that got me though maybe its the memories that go with it too perhaps.Apparently the morning after the locals crack a yolk into it , a snatch of coffee and sugar and it ll " make you feel like the king of the castle!" according to Vincente.Fuck yeah.
Vincente is amazing .You don t meet people like him. Well over 6ft 2,silver grey mane, glasses moustache,large mole ,huge mannerisms, huge hospitality.He talks like a tiger on speed everything 'bada bing bada bong'.He kept slapping my hand in a high five kinda way all night and boy it really really hurt..the kind of stinging pain you get if you ve ever been slapped across the legs as a kid .But hey all in a nice way. He made us feel so welcome so at home which is what you need in another country just having done a gig or not. I had my own room a whole double bed to myself and Marc and Anthony were in the other room that had 2 doubles. I cruised off to bed around 2 exhausted hearing the clapping and bongo playing starting up.Was gonna be a long night.Felt like being on strange kind of holiday.
In the morning looking out of my bedroom window I got a view onto the street, all rows and rows of bright red brick houses like on Corrie. Sun out shining real hard.Few clouds.Vincente saw us off in the cab to the bus station to get to Dublin, hopping in his bare feet like a crazy frog.What a guy.
DUBLIN 4th March Tuesday
Earth cut into stoney soil we rise out of Belfast climbing higher and higher,on towards the border railway to the left the view right across the valley a sense of expansion.Past the pubs with "Guinness Time!" on the side, the shops with Mc Swiggans, O Callaghans, Raffertys, House of Murphy, Mc Whirters.Yes we 're now truly in Ireland.
Snatches of the countryside,one eye open,green ,black and white shire horses the ones with the shaggy feet, sheep,square houses, 1950s modern fake slate roofs,then empty empty sky and trees, quarrys farms, piles of tyres and old cars.The coach whistles on Anthony on the seat in front, his i pod crunching my ear. Marc spacing out in the seat behind the driver,I try and sleep but curious eyes keep popping open in case i miss more green. Past Newry,pass the border down into Ireland,then rise up into Dublin flanked by hills all the way.It takes at least 45 minutes to get on the move after the bus,money change sent in the wrong direction ,waiting while one goes to the loo others wait with bags.Turns out it costs 20c to go to the pisser no euros yet .Luckily the eastern european girl who was sat on the coach with her bloke reading irish guide books, who i was slightly laughing at her tourist zeal ,was actually the one to save me from bladder poisoning. Just goes to show.Anthony came back from the loo too and said someone had helped him out with the 20c.. would n' t happen in London he said.. i hope it would but..
Eventually we get out of the transit vortex and head to the venue. A lush cabbie filled with stories and pointing out sights,moaning about the state of the roads .My tour managing efforts fell at the first hurdle when we all realized that pulling up outside a georgian terraced house was not in fact the 1300 seater venue that should ve been the Tripod. Luckily another cabbie by the roadside had better knowledge and after his "oh yes The POD?!"in a why didn t you say voice we were there. An ancient stone facade backed by a huge modern build glass and concrete club. Outside was a cool looking rabble of indie boys ,one Simon, an uncanny noel fielding lookalike who turned out to be part of production, (we wouldn t know it then but we would be spending more than a few drunken hours back at his house drinking drinking much later on.)
It was a bit like Spinal Tap the bit when they can t find the door to the stage.. a much bigger venue than the night before and we hadn t seen this size for a while. Felt really good to be back. The stage humming with Garys crew fixing testing setting moving working.We had an hour or so to kill before our equipment that we d hired off a friend of a friend was turning up so with no dressing room of our own we headed to the back bar off the balcony and lay down on the gold covered sofas and snoozed.Marc was on the internet his new home of choice and me and Anthony preferred the head down option.
Not quite asleep waiting for the call which finally came that Gavin who I d spoke to on the phone was outside with our gear.I very happily greeted a very cute looking irish boy who we began helping lift amps and kit out of the back of a transit. Turns out he used to play in Idlewild. Nice. coming over to England on the 18th to play the dublin castle with his new band.
Soundcheck was good.. sound was right. Loud and clear solid and felt good.
There s something about being on a big stage that makes everything feel right. It all makes sense, the space the volume of sound the size of the theatre. It really feels like a performance. Like you re part of the theatre of entertainment which is all you are really no matter how much soul out pouring or art is underneath it all. I did a lot of breathing before the show ,i did my make up not too much just enough to feel like you re about to do a show,i did my singing warm ups in the toilets. I felt good and godarn ready to take em.It makes a difference when you re feeling strong rather than trying to be strong.
Our set was 7 songs just a half hour, 2 songs from the last album and the rest new ones. Only the 3rd time we d ever played them live and only the 3rd ever gig with Anthony. So definately an element of danger or challenge or whatever but it felt good. The song Blackout we played for the first time, we d never all got the arrangement right but it went well in soundcheck so we did it. Living on the edge what else is it about. Got to move forward. 'Red Rock','June Waits', 'Midas','Worship','Way Out','Blackout','I See You'. Short and snappy. Really enjoyed doing Dead or Worship as I ve been calling it recently,a chance to move around without the guitar. Feels good to make use of the space to get into the sound and dance about. Fun.It felt like a good gig.You know when it does you come off stage and even if you ve fucked up in places it did nt matter because it still felt good and that s what its all about.We got some "Numan Numan!" shouts which always make me laugh.Oh how I ve missed them. It s good to be back sharing the same stage as Gary and being there in front of the crowd who were there to support the era of keyboard music. They made it all happen. I heard all the stories from fans about how they were there at the beginning, how they heard Gary on the radio and it changed their life how it opened them up to something new something that just was nt there before. And I feel privelidged to be on the same stage as someone who influenced a population , an era. 'A legend' as the girl who was jumping up and down next to me on the balcony as I was watching the gig called him.
Watching the boys in the band do their make up before the stage, a beautiful bunch of peacocks about to spread their feathers wide.Talking bout eye shodow and eyeliner, asking Gemma to help, watching the gorgeous pink queen bee spread her magic ,helping Gary with his clothes his eyes his begetting of the myth.
Replicas. The album with the blonde androgene alien boy.So young and potent.Like watching the gay boy on skins dance.Watching from the balcony seeing his hands move on the side of the keyboard drumming out the riffs he d written but who Ade or Ravey Davey was playing instead was like going back in time. Lovely watching him play keyboards , playing the instrumental parts of some of the slower songs on the album. Filmic. It was a fucking good gig, hearing the funky rhythms so ahead of its time and the way the bass and guitars played the same riffs.Gary had played it all on the album apart from drums so you can see the guitar parts are a little more niave than the keyboard parts. Inspiring and the sound s so good, with the 2 keyboards and bass and guitar and drums and Gary playing guitar and keyboards in paces. Full. Simon the sound man.Fucking good. They re all fucking good at what they do. That s what s so inspiring being around people who really know what the fuck they re doing. Lifts you up immediately.
More beer,so good to have a bottle,watch the lights .See the hands go high on the whoooa whoooaa bit.Feel my arm do the same.Like being part of a cult.I guess thats why people dig rock stars , just the cult of belonging being part of a group having a combined goal a focus somewhere to channel feelings. Was talking to Gary about that after the show a bit drunk . Looking at that picture on Replicas and seeing the fact that most of his fans now are men. Wondering if they saw the androgenous in him and they could channel their own feelings of that through him, he said it was supposed to be androgenous but also a bit like an alien.We talked about the male fan thing,he said he used to have a lot more female fans back in the day.. me and Gemma said maybe they were all at home these days looking after the kids..Gary rekoned they d all dissappeared when he started seeing Gemma..!oh the need to be available for the rock star..The Myth.Funny old game,so much psychology.
Gary and Gemma left and went back to the bus, we still had a long night ahead.We had till 5 30 time to kill. Next phase of the night to begin.
Calamity Boosh as the staff were calling him,or Simon as he was known ,the indie kid who we d met outside hours earlier the stage manager,and Mike Bartlett the production manager of the venue were the last around like us and we needed more partying. The flight was at 8am back to the UK.. So we were there just to follow their lead. A trip to Wheelans a bar and venue up the road,wooden walls and lots of Guinness and Jamesons on ice.Nice. Oh my God I love Dublin.Last time here was just as fun too playing in the temple bar and a crazy house party...We saw a great band at Wheelans and drunkenly danced around to their girl drummer and 2 guys on guitars who sounded a lot like the beastie boys.Then back to Simons for wine.via a dodgy veggie burger and cheese without the bun..?yes just came like that.. bit odd..which i nearly did nt get cos Marc d gone off with the euros .A long and winding night like my story.
Eventual taxi to the airport then on the plane and waking up with the sound of the plane landing, that was weird way to get out of a dream.It all started to get a bit hard then,Anthony left his phone at Simons house, no sleep and making our way back,pasty at Gatwick ,train to London bridge then home. Not too bad but so bloody happy to hit the bed.And so it goes..
NORWICH SUNDAY
Poor Marc.Revellry good, driving from exeter to norwich bad.No stereo only couple a crazies in the van for company and a whole lot of truck driver chic.It was never gonna be the greatest day in the world.We had to make our own entertainment,laptop speakers not really cutting it on the i m as deaf as a post spend a lot of my time with my head in a bass bin stakes.It was a miserable mother of a day, pissing it down sporadically and good n grey the rest of the time.We d luxed out in "The Lodge"the night before save us from going back to london but it did mean a lean stretch of 5 odd hours cross country.
We decided on the tried n tested old fashioned method of singing not quite round the ol joanna but close enough. It was like doing an impression of Never Mind the Buzzcocks.We even got into medly mode.A couple of Velvet Underground numbers, I m Waiting for my man into I m Beginning to see the Light ,two words of Candy says.. not surprisingly they flowed pre-etty easily into one another.A bit of Paranoid by Black Sabbath,then there was Smoke on the Water with our different keys doing the same riff and then that riff again and yes again..until..' whats the words again..?'"oh yes smoke on the water...'and that was about as far as we got.
We microwaved at the' baby food station' chicken and asparagus risotto from the M&S sevices then a whole lot of road later we saw the Norwich signs. We d played here before at the University of East Anglia campus venue,a fishbowl auditorium. Packed.Bit of a maze to find ,driving round and round the campus asking business looking students where's the venue ?...only to get the response from one guy "venue? music?" ! ah he was obviously here to work...
Outside is a nest of Numanoids milling around,a familiar face the girl with the purple hairdo.Jeanette s there of course she s done every gig. Even Ireland .It was freezing made them tea to hold seeing her stood outside in Belfast from 3 in the afternoon just to get the desired front stage spot..Stamina thats what they got.Keen thats what they are.Sure fire keen as pixies.
At soundcheck i m pining after Vivien the french monitor guy in Dublin, pining for his ears .He was fucking good.Where is he when you need him eh?This guys doing his best.I m pacing we never have long. Try to do half a song without anything in the monitors and its hard..come on.. Front of house guy's good thank fuck a friend of the guy whos done our sound before so he's heard us, had an earful already. Fingers crossed knows what we want. Even gets the delay on I see you in the right place. Magic.
I m back in the loos for make up , my dressing room of choice.
The gig goes quick, i m panicing before no time to get dressed, don t know what to wear, hair looks shit, we re on stage in 10 min..too rushed after the long drive. Much better when you ve got time to relax before do a few things ..you know 4 hours in hair and make up that kind of thing.
The venue's like a goldfish bowl.The audience is in bright lights,a congregation or a community hall meeting.Eyes up.We re up.Sounding better i don t feel as comfortable as i did when the sound really surrounds me. I must be fucking deaf by now. I need it real loud so there's no room breathe.Call me a rocker call me a raver with my head in that bass bin again.Wrap it over me please,hit me over the head with it please,let me see it close up please .Call me germanic.. sorry its in the blood, don t want to generalise.Need it hard baby.
Then it's the off with the show off ,not off with the clothes ,then off with the gear off with my head not off my head.. bloody singer..bloody voice ..bloody alcohol.
I watch Gary from the left side of the stage get a good view of the performance,the prowl the panther.Hear Richards' drums real well.Hear everything how they ll hear it on stage.Its hard to realise how different it is when you re on stage to when you re watching, how different the sound is.Just raw and clean,a licked bone.I watch as Gary lifts the mike up up and away like he s throwing a little stick into the water.Hands in the air,Our friends electric, that piercing drawl We re so fragile,I disconnect from you,Down in the park then Replicas over and Cars.It makes you think. Hearing the hits .Wot a writa guvna.
Then we re out stuff in the van,the fans waiting for Gary ,the usual.We re their thrown bone for a minute their carrot.Waiting for the man.We sign some bits by the van , Feel important or something like that. A flurry of what its like.If you make it.If you hit the big time or whatever that is..
CAMBRIDGE TUESDAY
Nice n quick clickety click.We ve arrived.Gave Steve Malins a lift.Me the dog in the back seat sounding famiiar.AVACAR (our van hire beauties who didn t give us the right code for the godamn stereo) ava sleep.I can t hear shit,time to nod off.We' re early nice. Get lost trying to find the venue.Nice.Cambridge Junction.Gary was having soundcheck problems.Bass drum feedback..what the fuck never heard of that before.It d become a bass trap.Took a long long time to get it sorted. Simon his sound guy doing the "uh huh uh huh " on the mike,building a wall around the drums getting it sorted..We had to wait wait wait.What you gonna do. Make up. Oh the ritual.What a tart.This time I ve got more, this time I ve got my friend Maaike Mekkings amazing clothes. This time I m ready for them.I do the face i do the place up.I m out to get those motherfuckers.
Poor fans they were waiting in the rain.. soundcheck still on the go. Poor motherfuckers. They re not going to be happy when they come in. Makes a difference if its a sunny day, if its the weekend. The whole mass consiousness feeding into your face.
We get a line check.Short and snap snap.At least i had time to get changed before. Then thats it we re on. We do Twisted again as well as the others. Sounded better than Norwich..getting the hang of it now. Hard doing new stuff takes a few plays to settle, got to do them some time though but 6 in a set of 8 s hard work.
Good gig started off with a bit of a polite audience..applause like rain then they warmed up ,dried off,cheered up.
Steve M said he liked the new ones.Especially Twisted. Less is more.Watched Gazzers set at the back with Steve and his friend Mal Adam Ants manager.I m too short to see properly so I get down the front where the action is .Next to chris' guitar side.Feel the rock baby feel the rock.Looking at Ade.Go back to Steve for the WOOAH WHOOAH hands in the air bit with his mate laughing at us.Who cares .
After the show in the bar. I need beer,Carlsberg.mm my favourite.We party in the back stage bar. no music so Matt the venue dude rigs up his laptop and we listen to music through the computer speakers.. what is it with this tour, no stereo in the van no party music but its good for a vibe. Bita background.
Anthony in the back of the van he said he wanted to go in the back.. why we ask ?I m a bit of a loner he says. Classic.We re all loners we say.Are all musicians loners then it gets too philosophical.More beer please.
OXFORD THURSDAY
Raining raining raining.Feeling soggy.Dressing room in a corridor lots of walking in and out.Good stage.Beer in the fridge.Better soundcheck.Good gig.Hot on stage .Can t hide audience sweat with smoke anymore.Felt sick coming off stage.Last nights curry for lunch.You jump around you pay the price.Not a good look.Nausea sweeps over.Have to pack up and get everything out back in the van in the pissing rain.Feel like crap.Marc gets offered a blow job by a girl with blonde hair and a hat.She grabs his cock too.He declines.She's after a Replicas poster.Bizarre.Go to the next door bar perk up a bit have a little dance to Radiohead..Puke when we finally get home a long time coming in the van.Feel much better.Good ol food poisoning.
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Wednesday, April 18, 2007
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NEW YORK CITY
Over Brooklyn Bridge the cab smells of fags sweat and sweet aftershave.Everything red brick ,looking like Marlon Brandos On the Waterfront,we pass the docks I can see the clips in my mind,him with his cap smoking a cigarette,him on the bike. I see those old 40s photographs of black and white New York,the NYPD taking the gangsters in,the homeless,the jazz musicians,the starlets,the men eating their lunch on the plank high up from the Kreisler building the history. Everything is industrial from Newark airport,then we re into Manhatten through the tolls in the cab with the blinking red vacant sign like the video clock in a Laurie Anderson song. Then we re at the hotel, hotel madison..cheap and not particularly cheerful,but beds and the internet. We re straight out into the familiarly alien.......
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Drive past ground zero in the cab. depressing void.Head down broadway.the contrast bright lights big city.showtown,the we wanna make it town,city of dreams.Into the deli,biggest hamburger I've ever seen. the fat the lard the pickles the pastrami the cheese on top,the monster bun as big as my face.the pure joy.
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I was feeling seasick.in my head i felt like i was still moving even though my body was still. the rush of dizziness from the constant movement of the aeroplane,like sea legs but in my head.jet lag,sleep deprivation ,dog- tired ,wide -eyed,overwhelmed.Find ourselves stumbling in Times square, the constant looking up blinking like a kittens awakening from ma.So many lights makes piccadilly circus look like a model village.Laughable.no wonder the Americans are always "wow this place is sooo cute" about England..really.We are toy town.
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"All you need is an idea and you can become a millionaire" says Larry Clark ,not the filmaker,the doorman at Ciprianos, a banqueting hall that looked spectacularly awesome we had to stop and find out what the building was. Turns out the Queen, yes ours, put a deposit down for a party here,never went through with it in the end,lost the deposit of course.. taxpayers...Larry says we could have a party here one day, if we "make it" , if we have that right idea eh.you only need one..
We could smell the American Dream ,but somehow consumerism seemed so old fashioned, the Dunkin-Donuts,the Macdonalds,the carbs and more carbs,the shops shops shops,so last year,relics of a byegone era,statues to the past,kitsch almost.Everything here was big scale.Big cars,big buildings,big people,big dreams..all except the dogs.They were very very very small.
I felt like I was living in a movie.Central Park,those horse drawn carts,break dancing troupes.We eat overcharged super charged hot dogs and watch these kiddies perform on the lake that s frozen over.Those little girls doing the moves,i m reminded of the padgaent princesses, the 6year olds with make up down their faces.One does "Lola she was a showgirl..".A nine year old looking awkward pretending to be a curvaceous burlesque queen.Blue blue sky.Crisp cold air,keep expecting to see Sandra Bullock on the lake with John Cusak in Serendipity,or Woody Allen, or the cast of Friends.
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The view is so classic the trees overlooking the lake with the buildings.You know everything and nothing about this place,seen it all before and as you walk it is as if you re transported into the television in some kind of other world and you have no memories of your own.
Then we re on the subway and there're the silver trains,the thrift store shopping,balanced out with a trip to Tiffanys on 5th Avenue,where we look at diamonds and more diamonds and I remember I want to see Blood Diamond and am surprised at how little stuff in there I actually like.
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Then we do jazz and the best cheesecake I ve ever ever had and martinis in Greenwich village and its sunday and its peaceful and the sunb is shining and the buidings with their red brick and those black fire escapes winding up the front,the lower rise blocks that don t drown you and the cute shops of lower east side and Pizza at Cronkites,the best pizza i ve ever had and i can see why so many people love and live in New York.
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We nearly get killed a million times crossing the roads,says stop..run,walk..run,yellow taxis crossing left and right,not knowing which way to look. Only learn much later on in LA that its actually an offence to jay-walk (i never knew that that meant crossing the road )and that the flashing numbers giving you the countdown from 9 to 0 mean you have that many seconds till you get fined .. if they catch you. Of course we could plead British ignorance or something as we run screaming into the arms of the NYPD as we narrowly miss another yellow cab or a Hummer.And we haven t even done our gig yet.
We re playing at Pianos on Ludlow.A cute place.Its comedy night and we laugh and laugh through the chairs at new yorks finest.The gigs start late, we re playing with Reijavick,heavy Icelanders,who rock the place with guitar heaven and joyful angst.We play late to the hardcore who dance and wiggle their way through our tones.We give it all we ve got.this is New York damn it.We re here.
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then at 4:30 ,straight from venue on the plane to Austin..
AUSTIN SXSW 2007
TUESDAY
It's all a waiting game and we sit and we wait and we sit and we wait.Flying overnight,change at Houston. Past the self activating toilet flush and motion sensor hand towel dispenser.Musicians like insects migrating to warmer climes to the state that s bigger than france,so we re told on every mug and tee shirt on the way, a Bush slogan, his response to the fall out with france over the Iraq war,that and the change of french fries to freedom fries.. i kid you not..We meet the band 'A place to bury strangers' in the airport lounge and turns out we re sat next to them on the plane.A gang who hail from New York and have the personnel who work at Pianos,the bar we played at in NY in their party.The flight goes quick with chat then i practically run straight into the crotch of a 6ft 6 tall texan cowboy complete with hat and boots as we get off the plane.Texas' gonna be fun y'all!
We head straight to the convention centre in Austin to get registered for SXSW and collect our tags,bands, goodie bags with flyers and brochures and cds and promo material and coupons for free strings free drinks free condoms.my arm s beginning to hurt with the weight of it all.
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Everything looks like the wild west with a dash of corporate America,texan BBQ joints , mexican cafes , bar bar bar,high rise,the huge convention centre and a few lill ol colonial wooden houses.The bars of 5th 6th and 7th street go on and on and the bands will be filling these places up from the next day and there will be music and more music and good bands and bad bands and drunken people and crazy people and business people and a lot of bands looking around and looking around and getting drunker and drunker and drunker on all the free alcohol they ll try to consume.
We re staying in a hotel a 10 dollar cab ride away by the side of the freeway which is a drag but we ve got a pool and a jacuzzi in the courtyard so we might just be ok.
WEDNESDAY
Wednesday and we re up with all the enthusiasm we can get. we re heading for the talks they put on,A couple about Indie labels and another about touring on a shoestring budget, topics we know little and a lot about. helpful info and some interesting people talking.Matador, Saddlecreek,Flying Nun all make an appearance,then an armful of promoters and agents for the next one, We re getting tooled up. I feel like i m at college but it feels good to be getting some kind of info, not all new and it helps us to know that we re doing the right things really anyway.but in it there is the odd nugget that filters down that will help in solving some issue along the way as regards career career career,in the words of Stephen Malkmus.I love that man.ok feeling bizzed up we wander the bars.head to the Co op bar where we re playing. we get offered some free miller lite.A classy choice.We re set. Its been a cloudy drizzly day, not the hot hot heat we were promised and packed tiny dresses to match..but luckily as dusk heads in it drys up. We re playing on a porch canopy covered outside bit to the bar that holds a couple hundred people and the stage is a makeshift block not even a foot high off the ground.. well maybe just a foot. We thankfully are lent some amps do a quick soundcheck .. line check with a very helpful sound guy who listens to I See you on the i pod and goes "Ah I get it a bit like Bauhaus right...?" well...kinda.. ok I m slightly scared..and we re off. Before the start of the show that felt like it could ve been a disaster, a quiet room a ghost town, it picks up and packs out to full capacity ,thank god for that .
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I m feeling like the Pied Piper the people just head in from the streets.feels like they like us and our time in America may be worthwhile after all and the people here may be up for having us here having us back.
We drink our Millers and we feel good.
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We head over to the Dimmak party, an American Label that our friends Whitey and Scanners are signed to,also bloc party in the US just in time to see the end of the quirky girl band with angelic southern harmonies , up pony and next the Scanners, steve aoki djing,
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The Willowz and Har Mar.We were supposed to do a gig for Dim Mak at cinespace in LA on the 27th but unfortunately we had to fly out on that day and couldnt change flights..
If you don t know these bands go immediately and check them out on myspace:
Whitey scanners up pony Dim mak records
Next is a trip to see our friend tom who plays drums with IAMX who play in a cold rather gothic bar the other side of town.A different vibe from the warm comfort of the Dimmak party.Ice cold electronic with Chris from the Sneaker Pimps writhing his ice wound vocals through the hearts of the black attired teenage girls who scream and wimper at the sight of his tight pants and silver sequined clockwork orange stye hat.We get back to the Co- op Bar.Pick up our things,head back to the hotel jump into the swimming pools freezing charms then lounge in the steamy warm jacuzzi and we feel good. .. ..
THE REST OF THE TIME AT AUSTIN
SXSW or South by So What as the locals call it......so many bands so little time spend so much time deciding what to see,we hang out at the Planetary party,the beauty bar, see swedish poppers,The Buzzcocks,The Wombats,Shit Disco,hang out with the Holloways, 28 Costumes,see millions of bits of bands whose names we don t know wandering from bar to bar,see Amy Winehouse wandering around aimlessly too,bump into our lawyer Paul Lennon,meet Jeff Buckleys mum getting awareness for a drugs rehabilitation programme who tells us what a good teenager he was how he used to bring her a coffee in the mornings and a kiss on the cheek and exactly how he died..I think about watching him at Glastonbury how i did nt know who he was back then but how he made me cry and I try not to cry now listening to her talk but as we move into a room and watch Daniel Johnston I feel the tears wanting to come..We drink ,well Marc especially drinks a lot of free drink,we have margheritas, bump into John Kennedy get more wristbands for free parties with free food, eat more burritos,go to the Island party see some cute acoustic guy,get bored by Paulo Nutini,nearly get to see Iggy Pop but red tape passes nightmare ensues as only one of us is allowed in and hey that just wouldn' t do...Watch the end of New York glam rockers Semi Precious Weapons whose manager BP Fallon we have met and liked a lot.
We nearly do a gig with with IAMX but their need for a better PA at this warehouse party means our slot is taken over by the crew setting up a new stage,we get done and spend that day waiting around for no reason.
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We watch the Tough Cats play skiffle blues outside singing "That Train s gonna come.." while a steam train passes on the tracks,and cool Austin kids get down on the dancefloor inside surrounded by graffiti.
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We have more Jacuzzis,get dissillusioned,get ecstatic,watch the largest urban bat colony fly from underneath the Congress bridge at dusk ,smile at the strange joggers in their tight shorts,the beautiful red bird ,the equally odd pug in a pram and gaze at the wide river.
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Then we go eat the best biggest tenderest steak with a good red Texan wine and await the City of Angels...
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LA DAY 1
Looking down at the lights,like a huge bit of machinery torn open,circuit board out,like Tron or when the roads start to wind not like their gridded sisters like a huge curling henna tattoo.The plane lands through the low cloud and we re in LA.We find a seedy motel near the airport and car rental called Hotel Geneva.Feel like I m in Buffallo 66 just without Vincent Gallo.There s a huge TV with the adult channel,rust in the bathroom and grotty looking chairs looking like they ve been stolen from a dead old ladies house.
We get up pack the large silver- beige Pontiac,looking like a family of car salesmen and head down to Melrose Ave to eat breakfast.A few fights over the map as Marc tries to navigate his way driving on the other side of the road.So many cars ,the roads wide with palm trees,Beverly Hills,Santa Monica Blv.all the names you know.Its a chill day,light drizzle disappointing my bikini and little dresses.Summer it ain t.We drive past Marvel,Mercedes,Gibson,Hilton,the Evangelical church,the Billy Wilder Theatre. OK now it's pissing it down.Vipavee our actress friend who is here with us tells us in films its the symbol always used to denote new beginnings,washing away the old bringing the new..every new town we ve been to it's rained when we arrived..Great we re in a fucking movie.We re driving slow Marc says he feels like an old granny in the car..'Get your motor running..Get out on the highway!' starts on the radio.
We spend the next few days staying at our friend Megans' house hanging out with our friends from Whitey who are also in LA for a tour,I meet my friend Corey from Myspace who lives here,we climb into the Hollywood Hills from Griffith park see the Hollywood sign in the distance look at the view from the Observatory made famous in the film Rebel Without a Cause where James Dean has the knife fight .Here you can see the whole of LA all the way to the beach.We visit a magazine launch of a new publication 944 magazine..where they are giving out free food and drink,always a puller,watch the Horrors play with the Willowz at Cinespace,(Steve Aoki s night from Dimmak ),watch the beautiful people bumping and grinding in a cool cliched over the top beautiful LA way,they all looking like they re being looked at and dressed by stylists for a video ,or maybe its just that I ve seen this world only through the window that is TV and now it just seems like I m in the OC or something..We hang out on Venice Beach watching the homeless alongside the freaks and the tourists.
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We visit Alan McGees Death Disco s first night in LA at The Tempest.Then we head to San Diego to play the Beauty Bar.
SAN DIEGO
Photos on the beach with Kelly who we met on Myspace.We re allowed access to the Naval Base' private beach for the shoot. The clouds are fierce. We only have an hour or so,watching the pretty bungalows go by like in Edward Scissorhands.We get to the naval base across an enormous bridge stretching across the estuary,arched wide and long.
 
The afternoon ends and we head to the beauty bar who have been following our footsteps for the past few years and we re excited to get on board here finally and play for Gabriel Vega who s been playing Midas from the beginning.The bar is as the one in Austin,its mix of kitsch and chic,old beauty parlour hairdryers,gold and green with posters on the wall of 50 s beauty magazines and models. The stage is built on an extention at the back and has a feel of being in a garage.Its in the Vietnamese area of San Diego and we eat some luscious Vietnamese food to remind us of Shoreditch and Kingsland Road.We play with a band from San Franscisco called the Mayfire who are wonderful.We have a lovely gig,I break my gold shoe.
 
 
We are so close to mexico but unfortunately aren t going to get a chance to go there this time.. real shame.Vega DJ s some good music and the bar is packed and lively the evening warm and welcoming.We stay at our Motel 8 and get up early to drive to Vegas the next day.
LAS VEGAS
The desert is so big so hot and so dry with the low slung mountains weaving in and out of the Joshua trees, the cactus the rocks and hills.We cruise past signs to Death Valley with the blue sky smoke of a cloud. 87 degrees inside the car with the fan on.
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We stop at a diner,red seats smiling waitress that are so polite they probably jack up on caffeine out the back,pancakes maple syrup the whole deal.We take pictures and pretend we re in a teen movie.Burnt out trucks pave the way to the door and I keep expecting to see Thelma and Louise or Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis sipping coffee in the next booth.
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Wish I had time to run away and feel the heat of the desert make like Carlos Casteneda,Jim Morrison, Matt Damon in Gus Van Sants' Gerry.And then it's Viva Las Vegas and its on the horizon gleaming like the Emerald City and its getting nearer and nearer.OK LV could power a whole country the amount of electricity thats going off out there.Slap bang in the middle of the desert.Just on Friedmont the road where the Beauty bar is and our Super (oh sooo super) Motel 8 is,has this canopy bit over the mall with the whole roof made up of changing coloured LED s flashing and sucking you in .A band plays Blink 182,or something,covers on a massive stage and people wandr around looking to spend spend spend. The Beauty Bar is a far more inticing affair, the sparkling walls the comfortable sofas ,the hairdryer seats the lush long bar making you want to order a milkshake laced with tequila..I walk and get a tuna salad, past the marriage chapels,next to the law firms(I guess for the quickie divorce),past the motels with their automatic flushes and sanitary seat cover dispensers.
We play to a happy crowd.Vegas is all about happiness,happiness hedonism fun frivolity .
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The sound s a bit odd for us there, we play on the floor and borrow amps from the lovely electro poppers UltraViolet who play after us and who don t have a bass amp, so poor Marcs bass distorts all the way through the gig.. rock and roll eh!We play through our tiredness and meet some very happy residents and lovely promoters Ozzy and crew who begin to show us what Vegas is all about. Yards of Jeigermeister later,various insides of various bars later and we find ourselves in a dark Casino eating breakfast of Hamburgers at 5am.Everywhere we re welcome "You re Welcome" being the most used phrased I ve ever heard.Vegas is legoland.The Gods moving their pieces around and planting them in the middle of the desert far away from anything else.NY,Paris,Venice,The Pyramids,Planet Hollywood,free parking in the casinos where the horsemen wheel you in make you walk past the slot machines the ping ping ching ching kerching of winners and losers,the old men with their eyes on the wheel and the ladies pulling the handles.
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You can see Johnny Depp in his goggles tape recorder and galoshes and tail in all his Fear and Loathing in Las vegas glory..Someone tells me a story about someone who was in the same house with Hunter S Thompson when he commited suicide .. but i ws drunk..wish i could remember...
Then you re back out in the sunshine and its blistering and there s a glint in everyones' eyes.Feeling lucky?A lady gives me $5 on the street,just blatantly walks up to me and asks if I want money.. well marc in his Englishness never comfortable with weirdos walking up and talking to him has the automatic reaction of saying"oh no no.."..hey wait a godamn minute.. "Yes I wouldn t mind some money.." I say..surely that s the right answer..what only $5 cheapskate..OK maybe she was barking maybe she'd had too many tequilas, maybe she d just been lucky but hey here the streets really are paved with gold.Love it or hate it in all its gaudy charm you ve got to embrace LV with all your heart.The gambling ,the drink ,the women,the Elvis',the Sodom and Gommoroh,the drive through weddings..the entertainment, the Pussycat Dolls, Celine Dion.Mamma Mia, Rubicks.. its all a game,win or lose who cares.It really ain t like anywhere else..
I m feeling the Jaegermeister,its the day after and we re back driving the whole day back to LA.Thank god for sunglasses and for lying in the back.The traffic weaves its monster all the way,people delirious with empty wallet fatigue.You pass the signs saying"where dreams become a reality" for some hotel chain, next to the sign for "Hooters" in large breasted letters ,then on through the LV suburbs where the residents live and its normal life for the people here and the transients move away move back to where they belong.Then its on to the mountains on the horizon and slap slap the desert eats you up.Viva Las Vegas.LA 272 miles.
LAST DAY IN LA LA LAND
The smokey Los Feliz hills with the million dollar houses,the quiet streets the air warm and charged.I look out from the balcony and wonder about my dreams.The misty morning spring ripening the feel of change in the air even though its not raining..( remember we aren t actually in a movie..)just the the kind of air that comes with a season change.Its fluid here the warm air breezes its way through most of the seasons with repetitive ease. I walk the streets with my friend Corey and hear tales of Hollywood.
.. ..
Some tragedies,I see the cute thatched house where Elliot Smith lived and wrote his songs and contraversially stabbed himself.I see the school where Leonardo Di Caprio went to with my friend.We go into the Centre for Phlilosphical research part of UCLA a sanctum of a courtyard where the corridors of all kinds of alternative thinkers' thoughts are stored. Its shut today,these are the holidays I guess and its after 4pm,but the place has a secretive exciting air.I eat Sushi that tastes like sex .I bump into Chrissie Hynde while buying Kombucha at the health food store and my nerves start to beat their usual pre gig drum.I keep breathing hard and get to the Silverlake Lounge.
"Salvation" in bright white lights on the wall above the stage,a dark moody dim room a low low stage,bare.The place where BRMC began amongst others...We re on so early but it fills up and we play bare to our friends here in LA ,Whitey,Scanners and crowd.I m tooled up have an AC30 to play through tonight and I feel bare but good.Its dark and I feel vital I can feel the blood in my veins tonight.I like LA a lot.We eat cheap Thai food, go watch IAMX who seem to be following us around on their tour say hi to our friend Tom the drummer and Ultraviolet who re supporting them tonight who we played with in Vegas.Then its home to Megans and a couple of hours before we fly.We say we ll be back.We say thats it we re moving.
It's peaceful up here in the clouds.It's dark the aeroplane hums and bumps.It feels like everything's happening for a reason and everything's just one big co incidence after another and I m in the right place at the right time,and if you believe in fate or good luck or something then it's all here right now.Things feel as if they re falling into place and if i was suppossed to be anywhere on anyday i was supposed to be walking those streets looking at those flowers playing those gigs singing those tunes.Everything in its place at the right time.It feels good and I m sad to leave worried that feeling will go.
It s black cold night over the Atlantic with the red light on the wing blinking like that light in tha laurie Anderson song.It's 7am in london and midnight somewhere else and here is no time.-86 degrees F outside.I watch the cartoon plane as it moves along the map of the world in the screen above me.The ocean is so big.I can see london on the map and it's getting closer.I feel urgent,purposeful,determined,scared,wonderful.I wait for breakfast and write some lyrics.
The sky goes pink as dawn breaks and fades fast.37000ft up 1059km/hr.Banks of fat clouds rest on the top of the sky like scum congealing on cold milk.I still want breakfast.
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Wednesday, January 24, 2007
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Category: Music
24th nov john foxx manchester acadamy 3
raining like a total bastard.i mean full on fucking monsoon.its great to see John and Louis again nightmare getting out of london and to the venue.. got there late so soundcheck minimal.5 min to get changed then on stage..felt a bit rushed to say the least..kinda need a bit of time to get in the mood to change from road head to rock head..Foxxy on great form of course was lovely to hear those classics again !downstairs one floor the bluetones were playing and kurt brandon from spear of destiny playing another floor down ..god this place was like fame acadamy..i watched john then managed to hop around and catch a bit of the bluetones.well well aren t they nice lads.. your ma would certainly want you bringing one of them home. so clean and neat..and what singalong choruses..the crowd were loving it.funny being an outsider and looking in on a scene you know nothing about.talked about drinking culture and how the euros don t get as lashed as us brits with john..as we surveyed the drunken arena around us..he is great to talk to a good conversationalist , interesting you know about stuff not just nonsense.louis had an ace coat on that night a big military affair that was proper warm.
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marc turned it inside out and put it on looked like a sheep.. was funnier than it sounds on paper believe me ! bastard bouncer would n t let me into the spear of destiny gig as my pass was nt valid.. god..jobsworth.. like i was really bothered..as i was unloading at the end of the night saw them loading out too.. in the pissing rain..i was waiting inside downstairs for the others.. kurt came out.. i knew what he looked like from the posters in the corridors.. shot me a look..god i hope he did nt think i was some groupie loitering for him..it did look a bit like one of those looks..headed off to the travelodge at oldham..rudely awakened by the fire alarm at 6am..mm..just what we needed..everybody out in the street in pjs..funny ol crowd...and so it begins..
25th nov coventry coliseum john foxx
2 hours in the space wagon..oh yes the car..not that i m into cars but this one is good.peugot 307 estate..silver..glass roof that is revealed by the touch of a button,cruise control,flashing orange dashboard..ok that was my description.. troy our driver roadie road manager fell in love..
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he watches top gear.the only worry is its brand fucking new.. like totally and we re pretty damn grubby animals..everything we put in is caked with a layer of rock dust and it starts to seep onto the emmaculate upholstory.we pray for our deposit ....we are not religious.coventry is obviously a city big on sex..in the blokes toilets there are vibrators and blow up sheep that you can buy from a vending machine.. i kid you not and in the ladies you can buy vibrating cock rings..what a town..the gig was good the club was good , turned into a super club a bit later on too with more bands coming on after us..a minor panic as one of the bands after us decide to steal my guitar..it conveniently turns up on stage with them , nicely tuned to their tuning and on a stand , they feign oh sorry thought it was one of ours.. mm..we re not so sure..if you play geetar you kinda know which is yours or not..its not rocket science..seemed to be the vibe of the night and we were led home surrounded by cops in the middle of a high speed car chase..man this town rocks.so bad ass..
26th nov southampton.joiners arms.supporting white rose movement
ok so here we go the wrm tour..bit different everyone here seems under 17..lots of sweet kids with big ol eyes .slight age alterationfrom the other tours.technical hell gig.think the nerves were kicking in ..had to make up an impromptu solo number while marc and sound man fiddled with bass drum d.i. s on stage that didn t work.. nightmare..what came out of my mouth was some kind of bastardised version of the stones.i was shocked. nicked the line.."sometimes you just might find you get what you need.."god knows where that came from..marc s like ..out of everything you know..well hey.spur of the moment god knows where my mind had gone. just decided to make something up.. well most of it anyway.. only those lyrics the same and a typical 2 chord drone underneath...scarily enjoyable and i m not sure the crowd knew what was going on at all..i was with them on that one.the gig finished with a mogwaiesque electronic noise symphony courtesy of the mpc 2000 crashing half way through the last song which turned out to be fucking lucky as it sounded way better than finishing on one of our new songs that was n t quite an end song yet...mysterious ways..dressing room real damp with a low low ceiling that finn couldn t stand up in..dripping water.gave taxxi some throat sweets .white rose guys were knackered just done the insomniacs ball the night before but their gig was ace .a fan shouted i love you. finn shouted back i fucking love YOU man.it was all good..a lot of love going on.good to watch the rose finally .love finn s vocals with his high wierd bits and how he phrases things..he s got a good style, i don t like many singers but i like him a lot.great to be on the road with em gonna be a pleasure to hear them everynight..
27th nov oxford zodiac
god its like walking into jason and the giant peach.a really peach dressing room that doubles up at other times as a bar i guess.its raining and drizzly in oxford.there s a semi circle in front of the stage.. people seem a bit reserved compared to southampton..finn s girl alison from the kills is there she s cool as fuck and sweet one of the support bands knocks my roland hardrive off its stand it goes thud on the floor and she rushes to my rescue concerned tells me the same happened to hers but roland were really nice and fixed it real quick.. luckily marc did nt see how bad the knock was and calmly tested it. thank fuck it was working.. coulda been bad.wore a dress i d made myself from material i d bought for some cushions fastened with safety pins..ol viv westwood d be proud..hung out a bit more with wrm had a good chat with ed the drummer.finn was out at the thai with alison.taxxi and leila their merch girl and i talked about the bargains we d all got at the oxfam up the road.. ah the joy of having girls on tour!listened to she wants revenge very loud on the way home.. was going to be a theme..
29th nov Leicester the charlotte
ok day 3 this is where the talking shit begins, its all coming back to me.. like"have you noticed that travelodge' s only got one L"and other classics..oh my god give me a fucking gun.don t you know i m trying to sleep in the back here..and the GPS packs up just as we hit the centre of town.. just when you need it.."you cunt" is said a few times..Troy talks about the car for about 2 hours.amazing you can get that much miledge out of a subject..listening to She Wants Revenge again...marc says"this is mixed so well"....again.. as the first track comes on.turns it up.we drive round in circles for a while..again.we re early.Marc says "lets go park outside a cafe and cause havoc in a kebab shop"..yes this shit is real..my life.. i wait in the car .listening to Black Strobe remixes,had the pleasure of doing some singing on their new record ,they are coool dudes,thurston moore s Psychic Hearts record and thom Yorkes solo album.thank god we re in Leicester not Beechy Head.Four bands on tonight.Fuck ..i m an old lady tartan rug over my knees in the back the centre of Leicester looks cute.we hang around in the carpark for a bit to find out where to park..Marc says it reminds him of being a kid waiting in the car for his mum who went shopping , traffic warden d come over he dsay"mums gone to the shops" they d say "ok kid" then go away..the good ol days huh..
Talking with white Rose about doing what you love.the dressing room is big and white and a little bit grim. not as grim as the bathroom next door which owen and i agree is out of a snuff movie..dark.like the belgium artist igor schneider who does installations of really rank interiors that are run down and send shivers down your spine..well one of them in full.we play a new song and move arrangements a bit get it a bit more sorted.WRM play a blinder.love the low chord change on their song Alsation..genius.love watching them on stage.owen s my fave could watch him all night proper rocker hair over his face sexy as hell.Finn pacing up and down standing on monitors glaring the crowd with a beautiful pout to submiss,both with their tight jeans ,Jasper laid back but full fucking on adding more than the icing,Taxxi cool as ice, Ed beating the shit out of those drums what a beauty.fucking good combo.god bless rock and roll.the crowd are real real good tonight.
30th nov Birmingham Barfly
"this is the time and this is the record of the time"..Laurie Andersons on the stereo.the really good stereo in the really good car , oh did i mention that?or did troy perhaps?!Listening to the Fall.An easy drive into Brum avoiding the ring road,this means a lot if you drive round the uk a lot .Birmingham traffic and the ring road is a total pain in the ass.we stayed in a travelodge near the venue ,to avoid all that,..well done marc for booking that.(ooo he ll like that when he reads it..recognition at last and for all the world to see..yes marc you are like totally awesome..american accent..)I digress..The sky is grey and yellow streakslike some crazy old ladyand Birmingham looks beautiful.The Selfridges building s a giant Gareth Pugh costume from Kylies tour. Barfly.Underground.Freezing as fuck.Used to be a mental hospital apparently and the dressing room a morgue, i kid you not.You can feel it.cold like death .No mirror no lights gloomy..boy ..don t they realise girls rock too...and the pretty boys love looking at their fringes..?i kinda like doing my makeup before a show, ritualistic..the war paint ..but i do need a fucking mirror...oh well bet patti smith didn t..apart from that the venue is rockin.sound man really greatbig pa decent stage,the drum machines treated like a proper kit,punchy as fuck.the crowd are really up for it and the support band do some shocking vocal warm ups in the dressing room.. bet they say that about me..ah the night is complete.the gig is good .some friends from myspace are there so good to meet in the flesh after a year of inboxes..and WRM rock ..over and over again..
oh nearly forgot to mention the amazing vintage shop next to the venue..real cheap and huge.Just how i like them.came out with lots of silly stuff i ll probably never wear or if i do i ll look like a 70s reject extra from boogie nights....perfect.
1st dec Shrewsbury Buttermarket
How nice not to have to get up and be out before 12 at the travelodge feigning ignorance when they knock on the door pretending you thought it was half past just to get that oh so important extra half hour , or even fifteen...we stayed in shrewsbury last night and we come back here tonight so we can leave our stuff in the room and make out like we re on some country holiday.off to the pub for scampi and chips..which is what exactly..me and marc were discussing this i think its just prawns in batter , why is it called scampi?oh yes i ll pass you the gun.Its dark already and the sky just looks gorgeous , dusky red and yellow and black.the shropshire countryside is lush but its too dark to really tell whats really going on out there..shame.now s when i feel like a decent walk trees fields wind hair rosy cheeks the shit you just don t get when you re sat looking at the inside of some club..everynight.Shrewsburys real pretty.feels like xmas suddenly and its crept up without really knowing about it and then here it is all twinkly and cute like a little tinkerbell costume.The buttermarket is a beautiful building huge inside .Tonights a bit quiet for it tho.shame.Even tho its quiet we play our most don t give a fuck gig.and i feel good.
Click here for whole gig footage at the buttermarket
I sit backstage knackered but so tired happy and sweaty someone turns the light off.that felt good just to sit in the dark breathing.then i remember troys gone home to do some proper work that actually pays him some cash and i gotta get out there and pack up.spell broken.trying to find our way home is fun. the sat nav fucks up again and we find ourselves driving about in the pitch dark down some country lanes.marc starts to lose it.. its late. the travelodge was suppossed to be 8 minutes away..bummer.finally get the map out and direct properly, old school.finally get back to the lodge..
2nd dec Sheffield the plug
sheffield s proper cool its officail.Non blondes,Arctic monkeys, Pulp,..bet its a n r heaven now..Tonight we re at the plug the indie superclub thats kinda new.we re met by the lovely helpful stage manager who sends some people to help us with gear.. wooaahh.love this place thankyou.we ve got sarnies and crisps and fruit and nuts and beer and water. the food we don t usually get on this tour as we re support.which is real shit as we re wasting away and of all times need some godam food..!.so this is good.its not much for a promoter to bother to do but it makes a hell of a difference if you ve been driving round the country living on ginsters and texaco sarnies..yuk.
the mail room is heaving with cool sheffielders,its been decorated with large lampshades , the ones with tassles on that are graffited and hung from the ceiling,looking like banksy s living room if he were on crack.very arty.we re on late so were off to hang on the high street.its fucking freezing again,so you can t really stay outside so you gotta wander the shops.it all looks like something out of the 70s,big ol department stores that have since down south gone out of business and lots of saver clothes shops,which is great.i buy some cute kids clothes for my neice and nephews..the start of my xmas shopping.we head back to the club for warmth and me and marc both lie down on the floor on our coats and nap , we ve still got ages.our dressing room s a bit away from the roses' tonight , which is a shame as its nice to hang out...we do have our own dressing room tho which is unusual and its nice to spread out and be quiet too.i wanna get drunk tonight.i ve been miss goody two shoes and its boring the hell out of me.if i get wrecked every night i just can t sing the next day, or i sound like shit anyways with the whole top half of my range dead,so i have been good , but tonight i get a chance as i ve got a day or so off!Marc s got to drive back to london tonight as troy s at work (the proper kind remember)so he s no help in being my drunk buddy.Arctic monkeys are djing so it ll be a bit of a party..the stage is high and so are the crowd its a great gig.,dancing and shouts from the crowd.its sweaty and a big long room.even the merch has its own booth today saying shop.this is a good club.i feel like david bowie tonight , something about the glittery dress and a flowerey shirt,i feel like an adrogene.tonight rocks i drink beer and vodka and totter about in my high gold heels.marc has to keep telling me we re going home.i love sheffield.
6th dec Liverpool acadamy
Sleeping with the fall,Mercury Rev made me happy today with thwe turner sky and the pylons and the haulage trucks and the m6 and the smoke from the factories to the left and the half rainbow to the right at northampton.the stereo is still good.3.30pm getting dusky already.driving driving driving.liverpool waits after 3 days off.wanna get back on get back in.Playing the acadamy downstairs .played with Numan in june upstairs..Skipped through 3 julian cope songs , even less of Japan then the Rev made the day.sounds like a musical with a good voice.soundtrack to our speeding roads."caught like a fleeting thought in leonard Cohens mind" what a lyric.Get a tenner out to pay the toll..can t use that need change , but faced with Darwin , a ship a hummingbird , a magnifying glass and some flowers.i can see the buzz of explorationhow it cab grab and not let go.I m feeling anticipation and excitement of the unknown future.who d want to know the future..i want to hld onto this feeling but as soon as i do it disappears.A little girl chasing the hulahoop down the street it rolls on and on.America bekons then the reat of the world.the birds flock over the road just as i look up through the glass roof.its all about the journey.the cd flicks to michael brook and its more contempation than elation.skys more moody its the onset of rush hour and i need a piss.some amazing looking cows in a field.Almost like Yaks..Traffic , marcs sighing..oh dear was all going so well.Bring back the Rev..the wheels of the trucks go roundand round round and round round and round..the wheels of the trucks go round and round..all day long.
Finally get there.played upstairs here with numan,turns out we re on later than usual the other support band pulled out,thats good its better with only 2 bands, less of a rush soundchecking.Slightly strange vibe,rows of cute boys and girls at the front then the others lingering at the side,many don t know who we are at all..Its full moon the night before and i feel strange, must be all that water i m drinking i got my very own tide,gig feels odd, we play a new song for the first time and realise immediately what doesn t work..a few more people descend down from their seats.It feels hard and as we ve had a few days off feels like the gears changed and its hard to get back on.Maybe i peaked too early.Actually feel a bit depressed.come off stage moaning which is bad.marc moans back at me moaning.he strops, i strop..may have something to do with the distinct lack of food on this tour versus the amount of energy expended..suddenly theres a full on surge of fans after white rose and we re busy signing records , someone wants marcs socks , i have to write poetry , people are buying records stealing t shirts, people want kisses and it feels like maybe the gig was ok after all..guess you can never tell.
7th dec Bristol Academy
We re falling down the map,travelling south , face down head first.Wiltshire countryside s soft and the land even feels lower.Again played here with gazzer,only now we re upstairs in the bar bit and on stage very early.there s a curfew at 10pm to make way for a hip hop club in the next room,so even white rose have to be on early tonight.the promoter tells me bristols dead for live music and people only bother going out if the band is really well known otherwise its dj culture.The Dirty whitwes start us off with their dirty garage rock.
all a bit wrong but in a good way.felt like a talent show. we were up next.i guess it always is..A few more people at the barriers i made a comment about it being a bit early and some guy goes" Yeah yeah just get on with it"...god was only being friendly!i ll cut the conversation in future.Sound seemed terrible and we were playing blind with the drum machine.Really need our own live sound person..Marc jumped up on the speaker.spent a bit of time playing up there.only got up to attract the sound man s attention then realised whta attention he got from the audience so he stayed up there.The day before Babyshambles d been in our dressing room,we always seem to ve been following them around a day later.They d been given the smaller dressing room as the bigger one had a john Malcovich style door that hung high above the stage and they thought that was asking for trouble as far as pete was concerned.No funny business to report,the gig d gone off without a hitch.i saw the same mark on the dressingroom lights that my coat had made as it burned its way on to the mirrors memory..a badly placed item near a hot light with a coat that had too much polyester in ..nearly burnt the place down..White Rose rocked again,they got some new fans that night out of some of our fans who d seen us play with gary,i can see why they would like them too.I just love watching them do their thing.
a girl and a guy hold hands and wiggle,
my friend heather giggles,
hip hop acadamy girls wear high skirts flesh full.
grinding on the dancefloor they wanna pull pull pull.
so cold no heat stage moniotors small and loud
but still can t hear any damn sound.
i hang back feel White Rose force,
Darius sound works magic par for the course.
Drive back Ed white rose drums
She Wants Revenge ,glass roof , look at the stars.
No more lunacy waning moon,
friends on the stereo lucky to know.
enter London through knightsbridge to xmas glow
all so smart the money shows.
sorry was feeling poetic....for want of a better word
it was the end of the night alright,i was tired alright...and so to bed.
9th dec Exeter.The Cavern Club
Sqaush WRM Ed up into the back seat we giving him a lift back up.Day off yesterday the rest of the rose stayed out in devon he wanted to get back home.Play garys telekon album he plays the Forum tonight,shame gonna miss it.Then comes the best car track ever,the first song on Queens of the stone age songs for the deaf,the way the guitar tricks you into being quiet then comes in really fucking loud.gets me everytime.I headbang in the back.I want to feel like that all the time..would be a bit tiring probably.Feel introverted today i sit in the cavern and write my blog,enjoying the solitude that writing brings and the the escape from the outside.Exeter IS xmas.all sparkly.we step out of the car after some beautiful devon scenery and we re right in full force devon Xmas shopping consumer mode.High energy capitalism at its best.twinkley lights like arrows pointing at the cash tills screaming buy me buy me.i go into top shop dragged by the consumer tsunami.I too can t fight it and buy some tights.I try on coats i can t afford but don t quite make the sale.Its fucking freezing.the girl at the changing room tells me its closed so my armfull of near make me feel betters are just near misses after all.phew.the cavern s homely.they offer us pizza and chips.i m starving but end up having to wait till after the gig when they give us money to go to Zizzis across the road for the best meal i ve had in 2 weeks.hard to eat before a gig as you can t sing with a load of stuff in your stomach,why you re always offered pizza when you finally do get offered food..sushi maybe..thats it i mi moving to LA or tokyo.Really need to get jamie Oliver on the case with sorting touring food out,pasties,crisps,sarnies,its a dogs life and it just ain t cutting it.we need to get him down the petrol stations and in those venues see how the other half live.....we need meals on wheels or something cos it just ain t happening here on the road.Anyway..Exeter rocked.the indie club was full of beautiful dears who knew how to party.Free before 9 meant they were in and ready to go in time for us.crammed up eager against the barriers.Cold outside hot hot heat underground..It was all good.Every word was thought about.It felt flowing.Best gig of the tour.Sometimes you just hit on it the right combination of audience versus the right mindset when you play the right sound on stage and off and it just feels right.other times you just don t get it..thats just the way it goes.
Saw a chirpy face singing midas,he d heard the rough trade comp had come to see WRM and did nt know it was going to be us playing...he was really happy .makes you feel all warm inside.
we journeyed throught eh badlands of dorset to get marcs folks where we were staying the nihjt in weymouth,She wants revenge on the stereo again ,me looking throught eh glass roof of the car somewhere in sync with justin singing about the moon revealing all.It seems to ve wangled its way into becoming our tour cd.Graham Coxon got a look in tonight too with his cheeky chappie lyrics like" you re pretty but you re looking pretty shitty" and "die Taylor die you scum sucking shitty guy" and other classics..Ah to be in his world,bet he likes whiskey.drove uo to the house with Ennio morricone whistling towards the ranch.We got a decent brekkie that morning.Jamie oliver d be proud a marcs dad.
10th dec Brighton Pressure point
Woke up feeling shit as all hell.Worst nights sleep ever.Can t sleep with the heating on thought i was in hell.fear of tiredness hung over.I love the countryside and the sea ,saw fuck all of that as per usual.Tried not successfully to get some kip in the car.looking pretty shitty ,....i am that girl ,thanks graham you got me down.felt rank as we pulled into rainy Brighton.joy of joys.Feeling detatched all day,dressing room freezing cold.Enjoyed the gig though.good crowd in ,as Finn put it,"the rainbow city".Had some friends there,bit of homelife felt good but a worldwind away.
11th dec London , Islington Acadamy
home town home ground.Get a lie in .Chaise longe in the dressing room. big crowd.
This was definately white roses night,a 500 strong thirsty crowd rich for their blood.i watched from the balcony looking down.they gonna be huge,felt like proper mania,purple feather boas flying at owen.Girls screaming.would ve loved to ve seen beatle mania in action ..bet that was fucking wierd.definately felt like the support band..next level here we come..
13th dec Glasgow King Tuts
Drove to Doncaster the next day and stayed in a travelodge then on to glasgow,as soon as we hit Scotland we hit the Gales.Blimey oh reilly these guys do weather.no pissing about with drizzle,just lay it on monsoon wizard of oz tornado style.proper.thats what i love about scotland.proper.King tuts is the best venue ever,good hot food when you get there,spinal tap on dvd..what more do you want.had some friends over who looked after our mech for a while which was real helpful and gave us somewhere to stay for the night so we could stay and party after the gig and get druuunk.last night of thre tour for us.what a great time but we needed to party,been a pretty quiet one as far as that went.lots of travelling to the next venue and quick getaways.so tonight we make up for it and after the gig go to some club called grand central with the guy from shit disco living up to his name.we didn t care the alcohol was flowing.. and we were being entertained rather than the entertainers.Lunar activty support band came on the rambles to the club,wore our t shirt sleeves like bandanas round their heads like ninjas.It was a dark night and soak to the skin drowned rat wet as we ran for cabs.up for tea and toast and vodka then the long long drive home.. driving through flooded fields,watching overturned lorries,seeing the scent of death on the roads as the gales took their toll...bye bye white rose we love you..bye bye scotland we love you..bye bye england we love you...where the hell was wales on this tour?? we love you too... next time..
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Wednesday, August 16, 2006
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THE DAY HAS FINALLY ARRIVED ! WE VE GOT OUR DEBUT ALBUM 'IN MINIATURE' IN THE SHOPS MONDAY 21ST AUGUST!
12 TRACKS FOR YOUR LISTENING PLEASURE..ITS ALSO OUT ON i-TUNES TOO IF YOU PREFER TO DOWNLOAD..
OR PRE ORDER AND DELIVERED IN THE U.K FOR £8:99
Click link here: HMV pre-order Rubicks 'in miniature'
Catalogue Number: ATTACD4
Label: SHARP ATTACK/ FULLFILL
track listing
- 1. I See You
- 2. Midas
- 3. Just For You
- 4. Wish You Were Here
- 5. Actress / Model
- 6. Popmobility
- 7. Move Away
- 8. All You Ever
- 9. Stop
- 10. Disconnected
- 11. Alive
- 12. Bicycle Boy
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Thursday, August 10, 2006
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Category: Music
Check out our live journal of John Foxx UK support tour and Swiss dates + support to She Wants Revenge: check out Rubicks live journals
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