I had a sound sleep after the Gruenspan show in Hamburg, having driven from Brussels. The next morning I arose early and went down to have some breakfast. There was a huge metal and glass door blocking the entry to the dining room. I am used to these heavy doors. Just yank them hard and they eventually open, reluctantly. Some even have springs, that pull them shut immediately. Well, that's the way it had worked in a big steel and glass building in Geneva, where I once worked. Unfortunately for me, this was a well-oiled and well-maintained German door. It sprang open with great ease and slammed into my forehead. I suddenly found my eyes watering, having nearly knocked myself out. I walked into the dining room, only to find people staring at me. Then I noticed something trickling down my glasses. Blood. It was mine. I went to the desk and got some plaster. In a little while I was cleaned up and ready for breakfast, looking out across the River Elbe and harbour.
I had left my phone charger in the car, and my phone battery was running low; so I avoided taking photos. The journey along the German motorways was less fraught this time. I took a route that enabled me to drop in on some friends. I knew they live right next to an elderly aristocrat. I wasn't sure exactly where to find them, though. I rang his bell. After a few tries, he came to the door - looking noticeably aged. He pointed me to their house, instructing me to return if I should not find them. There was no response to their doorbell, so I did return. He was standing outside his very smart mansion, urinating into a plant. The joys of growing old! He zipped up quickly, and we both pretended not to know what had happened. Those of us who are spared long enough will probably do similar things in due course: aristocrats and commoners alike.
I reached Brussels at about 6 pm. Plenty of time to reach the venue, Botanique, and have a sound check. Unfortunately I have a knack of taking wrong turnings. So I ended up in the Ixelles sector of Brussels, miles away from Botanique. The traffic jams did not help. I found myself crawling at pedestrian pace along the road towards Botanique. My phone was dead too, so there was no easy way for me to contact the organizers to let them know where I was. When I finally spotted Botanique, glowing magnificiently in the dark, I had some trouble approaching it. After a few U-turns I finally arrived and parked temporarily on the pavement outside the venue. The charming lady organizing the event hurried me in for a sound check. They had also reserved some parking places on the busy street.
La Rotonde of Botanique is an exquisite venue. Picture an amphitheatre. Shrink it. Shrink it again, till it holds about 300 people. Now picture wooden tiers. I have rarely seen a lovelier venue.
La Rotonde, Botanique, Brussels
The exterior is not too plain either: it brought to mind the giant greenhouses at Kew Gardens.
La Rotonde exterior
The show was sold out. Kula Shaker seem relatively well known in Brussels. I had a quick sound check and was shown to my dressing room. These dressing rooms were noticeably well appointed. Mine had two showers and several wash basins.
Dressing room, Brussels
At exactly 8 pm the CD music was turned off and I walked on to the stage of a hushed, darkened Botanique. Picture a circular, darkened venue, with tiny pin-points of light painting the tall walls like stars in a night sky. It was magical. I felt it was going to be a good evening. I still had the huge plaster on my forehead, making me look like a freak of nature. I felt the audience deserved some explanation. My rudimentary French took me only so far. I lapsed into English. I like communicating with audiences. It was a challenge to achieve this with an audience whose first language was not English.
There were no barriers to hold the crowd off, unlike the bigger venues we had been playing. Directly in front of me, within touching distance, were a group of young folk wearing Kula Shaker t-shirts. When I broke out into "I Can Sing My Song", they started clapping along enthusiastically. The audience grow steadily warmer. A few songs in, most seemed to have abandoned their inhibitions and were smiling and cheering like any English crowd.
I suddenly remembered that Belgium speaks not just French but also Flemish. I unleashed my Dutch/Flemish on them. It elicited an appreciative roar from about half the audience. The whole audience felt like my long-lost friends by the time I ended with "Ravenous Like A Tiger". I told them they could write to me in French or Dutch. A surprising number did! Delighted to have you as my friends, mes amis de la Belgique ou la France, en mijn vrienden. J'espère revenir. Ik zal graag terug. I'll be delighted to return.
I enjoyed hearing from German friends too. One wrote the most heart-warming description of my Hamburg performance; "The sitarsounds [tanpura] and keyboards. They made so much magic and flair". Magic and flair: that is all I aspire to as a musician. I'll keep at it until I get it right. Gruesse an meine deutschen Freunde.
The organizers had laid on supper at the excellent restaurant in Botanique. I opted for the ravioli, which was delicious. Followed up by lemon sorbet. I was chatting to a long-time friend who lives in Brussels. She described how her little children seemed ready to kill each other from time to time. Her conclusion: we have evil built into us, it's not as though people naturally tend to do only good. I couldn't argue. These were her own kids she was discussing. I guess being a mother teaches one a thing or two about human nature.
Kula Shaker, Brussels
La Rotonde (Botanique) was absolutely jampacked, so I couldn't even enter the crowd to watch Kula Shaker. I did manage to catch a glimpse now and then, over the crowd or peeping from the wings. They were ecstatically received, as they had been throughout the tour. According to Graham, Kula Shaker's sound wizard, my set would break the ice and get the audience simmering, then Kula Shaker would bring the audience to the boil. It seemed to work.
There we were, at the end of a fabulous tour. I said my goodbyes to my friends in Kula Shaker. I had been surprised at how well mainstream rock audiences received my distinctive style. It was also wonderful to see the ecstatic responses to Kula Shaker, since I believe Rock and Indian music have many inherent synergies. I believe Kula Shaker can continue their growing success and eventually play arenas.
with Paul, Kula Shaker drummer
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with Crispian
My long drive to Dunkirk, to catch the Dover ferry, was uneventful.
Ferry, Dunkirk to Dover
I managed to sleep on the boat. Then the long drive home in the breaking dawn. A bright moon hung over the motorway, the perfect accompaniment.
I had to take a few naps along the way, but made it home in one piece. That evening I was due to play at a charity show in Southampton. After a good sleep, I set out in the English rain. I found myself driving behind Hell. On wheels. Honestly, it had cardboard cutout flames leaping up from the floor.
Driving behind Hell-On-Wheels
I had replaced the large plaster on my forehead with less conspicuous strips.
In Southampton
The crowd in Southampton were out to have fun. Some had heard me before, so they joined in lustily from the very beginning, dancing and clapping along.
It was well past 1 am by the time I finally crawled into bed. Over 1500 miles in a few days, filled with music, driving and friends - and only one wound. Not bad. I shall carry fond memories of this hectic tour.
Kula Shaker have been in touch since. I'm sure all will be revealed in the fullness of time. Meanwhile, I've been immersing myself in the most exquisite music imaginable, from India and from great Western composers. Bartok is amazing. Practising a lot of tabla too. Magic and flair: that's what I'm after. I hope to approach those a bit more closely each day of my life. Thanks for your encouragement - it means a lot to me.
Stay well,
Dr Joel