THE UK TOUR 2002

Saturday 8th June

Urgh. Woke up in my armchair with no memory of having got into my sleeping bag. Eddie is passed out on the sofa. To paraphrase Hunter S. Thompson, my living room looks like the results of an experiment involving gorillas and LSD. Andy staggers in from the van, where he elected to sleep after the cat started hassling him. After everyone else crashed we had an evening of booze and Jethro Tull records. Fantastic! Rose appears, looking suitably screwed. Time for breakfast.

Later. Feeling a bit better now. Andy is hoovering up the remainder of last night’s cans. He is hardcore. Eddie and I watch the Brazil-China match with Gary Numan as a soundtrack. It works surprisingly well. Vic and Andrew held it together for long enough to grab some breakfast and have now crashed out again. Rose is lying on top of the van. I have no idea why.

Still later. Wombat is dying. We know this because every so often he moans ‘I’m dyyyyiiiing!’ in his most mournful voice. It’s heartbreaking. 3pm rolls around and we pack up the van and head into Brum. The Mercat. I always love playing this venue. For me at least it’s a hometown gig. Good to see Ian Mann again – a lovely guy and one of the few promoters that really looks after his bands. Seventh Harmonic turn up whilst we’re loading in. Good to see them and I hope they get a better sound than last week. Soundcheck is good, but there are issues with Vic and Rose hearing themselves and some technical upfuckery with the keyboards. Wombat assures us he is still dying (‘you don’t stop dying, do you? You’re dying and then you continue dying and then you die. The only way to stop dying is by actually dying and then I wouldn’t be able to tell you that I’d stopped because I’d be dead.’). In any case he appears pleased with the sound. Andy and I head off to a cashpoint. Andy is seized by the need for some Chinese food so we stop off to get some. Whilst we’re waiting he describes – in unnecessarily graphic detail – how he got over his irrational fear of going for a shit with his boots on by taking part in a taco-eating contest. Bizarre.

9.45pm. We are all semi-fucked. We went down the front for the first part of Seventh harmonic’s set – they sound absolutely fantastic tonight – but have retired to a back room to save our ears. Julie has turned up and it’s wonderful to see her after being away for so long. Stuart, Alan, Michael and some other friends have also turned up amongst the assorted punters, which is really cool. The godlike Ian has laid on a load of food and beer, which we are currently working our way through.

The gig is blinding. We play really well and the crowd are really into it. I am so lucky to work with such top-notch musicians. Every song receives a rapturous reception and I grin like a bastard throughout the entire set. Vic is an absolute star and has the audience eating out of her hand. Afterwards there’s time to chuck down a couple of lagers before helping to pack up the van for the last time. The rest of the guys are heading back to London tonight but I’m staying here. It’s strange to be saying goodbye after having lived in such close proximity for so long. I am completely knackered. I have been wasted for nine days. I want a proper night’s sleep in a civilised bed. I want to wake up beside my partner (sorry Eddie, it’s not the same). I want a shower. I have had a fantastic time. I have met some great people. The cab has arrived. Goodnight.

Aidan

Friday 7th June

A day off. No gig tonight, so no point rushing anywhere. And in any case, Eddie’s made it quite clear that he’s not going anywhere before or during the England-Argentina football match. I’m very pleased by the result, not because I’m a massive football fan but because I was very worried about what mood Eddie would be in if they lost. Rose cooks breakfast – magic! – and Eddie and I sit about talking about Fields of the Nephilim. Wombat looks even more mournful than usual.

The rest of the gang turn up and we prepare to leave for the next stop, which is my house in the Black Country. A good drive. We stop at Merry Hill for beer.

Home. Matt (Rose’s partner) is waiting outside – he’s up visiting his parents and dropped round to see us. Everyone cracks open the beers while I tidy up a bit. I haven’t been home for a couple of weeks. Vic asks me why I have a pair of pants framed on my wall. It’s too complicated to explain. When we think we’re drunk enough we head off for a Ruby.

Very strange. The local curry house has been overhauled and gone upmarket. Food good. Cobra beer – yummy. Unusually civilised for a curry in Quarry Bank. No-one started a fight, no-one got thrown out and no-one even offered to arm-wrestle the chef for fifteen naans. Home again home again. More beer/wine. I inflict my record collection on the assembled masses. Chameleons, Xymox etc. Everyone reckons Laibach are a real hoot. Andy has started doing everything in a Laibach style and is talking about doing some Mike Oldfield covers in the same way. Oddly, this seems like a good idea.

Aidan

Thursday, 6th June

Morning. Turns out Andy and Rocksteady stayed up until it got light getting ever more smashed. Nice to see them looking more fucked up than I feel. More banging tunes for breakfast. Who rocks the parti?

Ben has a Geordie shower. Even on maximum it’s barely tepid but it sits on the wall and says ‘Whayay man, what yer talking aboot? It’s boiling!’. The water was black when I washed my hair. Gross.

Leeds, later. A reasonable drive, Eddie made good time. Leeds is a most confusing city for drivers. Eddie gets frustrated. Apparently, every time he has ever come to Leeds he’s got lost. Rose tries to direct him. Eventually arrive at Ben’s and Jane’s (?), who is putting some of us up (the remainder are staying with Eddie Monster). Arrive at The Royal Park bang on time for load-in. Once again, a good venue. Nice promoter and engineers. Wombat is not feeling very well and sleeps in a storeroom for a while. Soundcheck OK, but really loud. Bit of an issue over whether Vic will be able to hear herself. Back upstairs for a couple of jars before the gig. Chatting with Eddie about Flesh for Lulu. Immensely surprised when Steve, our ex-keys player, turns up with Richeldis, his wife. Great to see them – I haven’t seen them since their wedding. They’re doing really well and have opened up a gallery in Kirby Stephen, where they live now.

Missed the first support act whilst chatting with Steve. Get downstairs to see most of the set by Harold, who are a great bunch of guys playing heavy, funky rock and roll. I have a headache. Best regional audience we’ve had so far. Good gig once again, marred by a couple of technical hitches. Vic’s mike lead was faulty and caused a number of feedback issues before being replaced and we had to sop and restart ‘Longshore Drift’ to turn down the volume of the guitars. My ears were bleeding, I think. Onstage sound was dreadful due to peculiarities of stage acoustics. All I could hear of my bass was a sort of scratchy noise but Andrew claims afterwards that he couldn’t hear anything else because the bass was so loud. Judging by comments and CD sales we were well received. Someone suggests going to a late bar they know. Unanimous agreement. Whilst packing up poor Jane(?) trips up and clouts Andy with his Marshall amp head before pitching forward and landing awkwardly with her throat against said amp. She says she’s OK, but there’s a nasty bruise beginning on her throat and she sounds a bit like Yoda. Time to give it a bit of William Tell (to the pub to the pub to the pub pub pub…).

The dry dock. Nice bar, in a converted barge. A few swift beers. Andrew is gone. Turns out he offered the drummer with the first support band a fight because the guy had screwed around with the drum kit…this is not like Andrew at all! The drummer is in the bar and comes up to apologise. Least said, soonest mended. Back to Eddie Monster’s where he and Andrew spend hours locked in discussion about the relative merits of various items of studio gear…I crawl off to bed.

Aidan

Wednesday, 5th June

Morning in Edinburgh. Head off to a local café where we discover why Scotland leads the world in heart disease. Fantastic breakfast. Not even slightly put off when Andy observes that black pudding is really just a giant cooked scab, although I notice that Wombat loses his enthusiasm a bit. Back to the van. Newcastle here we come.

We appear to have a talent for selecting venues in really dodgy areas. Nonetheless, The Tyne Bar is a really nice pub inside and the staff are fantastic. There is no stage. Playing this venue really takes me back. The promoter wants two sets, so we hastily rearrange some of the material to play in a stripped down, semi-acoustic way. Good fun and it makes a change for me to be playing six-string instead of bass.

The acoustic material goes down well in front of a crowd that consists mainly of local punters out for a quiet pint. The loud set doesn’t seem to make much of an impact, but no-one throws anything at us which is a victory of sorts. From the venue back to Ben’s (the promoter’s) house. Food. Yummy. And a whole room full of records. The rest of the night is spent getting really hammered whilst listening to a selection of Ben’s favourite tunes. The Butthole Surfers feature quite heavily. We all get into a tune called ‘Rock the Parti’ by a Mexican rapper called Gold Chains. As soon as we find a record shop he’ll be notching up a few more sales. 2am. Wasted. Bedtime.

Aidan

Tuesday 4th June

Wake up feeling strangely lightheaded, with a watery taste in my mouth. Very puzzling until I work out that this is what it feels like to wake up without a hangover. Dave and Mary lay on a fantastic cooked breakfast for which I will be eternally grateful. Afterwards Dave shows us round his workshop where he makes guitars. They are truly wonderful instruments as I can testify having tried out one of his acoustic basses. One of these days I’ll be rich enough to afford one. Vic turns up looking a bit fucked up. She had ambitions to go clubbing last night with friends but appears to have spent the evening sitting around in the car waiting for other people before going for a Ruby at about 4am. Eddie: ‘There’s a really choice smell of kebabs in the van…’ We set off for Edinburgh. Long drive.

A beautiful city. Nice venue, too. Once again, very knowledgeable and obliging in-house staff. Wombat actually smiles when he sees the desk. We meet Calvin, one of the support acts. They are really nice guys. From the Rushes (other support) turn up a bit later. They get a bit pissy with us when we explain that we don’t want our gear fucked around with onstage. Life is tough. Andy and I go in search of food and end up in a baguette shop on Waverley Station, where we discuss the iniquities of late capitalism with the tattooed anarchist behind the counter. Andy tells him that if he comes to the gig, he’ll pay his entry money.

Gig time. From the Rushes are rocky in a sort of Ocean Colour Scene way. Good musicians, but I’m not convinced that the five-minute guitar solo has much of a place in contemporary music. Calvin are great – they’ve got a very moody Bad Seeds sort of feel and a very entertaining cheeky Scotsmen stage presence. Impressive. Once again, we deliver a good set to a sparse audience, although it’s heartening to see that the vastly non-Goth audience stick around to hear us and are enthusiastic enough to demand an encore. And our anarchist friend turned up – he refused to accept Andy’s money, too. From The Venue to a local pub where we cram pints down our neck before going off in search of pizza. Then to Zeb’s, who is very kindly putting us up for the night. He has interesting opinions on things. I am quite fucked up and go to bed.

Aidan

Monday 3rd June

Hangover. Arse. Someone has turned up the volume on the house.

Return to The Cavern to discover that there’s a fucking lift. Bastard. Why weren’t we told this last night? We duly overload said lift with amplifiers etc and Andrew has a panic attack when the doors open between floors and the lift starts bouncing up and down. Good job he didn’t hear Andy’s comment about The Omen when we first arrived.

Later. Drive to Manchester – a short one. The Star and Garter is my favourite sort of fleapit. There are flyers all over the walls. Wombat gives a sort of despairing sigh when he sees the mixing desk. However, Derm, the promoter, and the house engineers seem very capable and friendly which frankly makes a change.

Later still. Went for a really good Chinese off Oxford Road and then retired to the pub for a kill-or-cure pint. On balance, I think I might pull through. Repair to the venue to discover that it’s in a red-light area. I have just noticed that there are a couple of bullet holes in the downstairs window. Oh fuck.

Soundcheck time. Cloundbase are here but only half of BBD have shown. Last minute change of running order. The remainder of BBD shows up just before the doors open to be told rather tersely that they have five minutes for a line check before going on. They’re not happy but there’s nothing we can do about it. Once again, a small audience but very enthusiastic. Cloudbase get an encore – much deserved. We shift a decent number of CDs and t-shirts after a good set and, once again, an encore. Various audience members come up after and tell us how much they enjoyed it. We get asked to sign lots of the CDs, which is a new and puzzling experience.

Later. Hungry. Kebab time. Andy recommends Ali Babar’s where we obtain the biggest, greasiest and grossest-looking kebabs I have ever seen. It looks like half a grated sheep wrapped in a naan bread. Absofuckinglutely delicious. Then to Dave’s and Mary’s house (Andy’s brother and sister in law).

Aidan

Sunday 2nd June

A leisurely start. A nice long shower – possibly my last for a while. Eddie re-appears and we load up the van. How can one band need so much stuff? Time to drive to Liverpool.

The Cavern Club. My mum came here to see the Beatles. Unloading the equipment down four flights of stairs. Bastard. Especially Rose’s keyboard case which weighs a ton. Wouldn’t have managed that without the help of some friendly locals who pitched in when they saw us in difficulties. Thanks, guys. Cloudbase and Blind Before Dawn turn up as we’re soundchecking. Good to see Cloudbase again – they’re a great band we got to know because they use the same rehearsal studio as us and did some recording down at Stealing Eve. Blind Before Dawn seen very young and I am reminded of my earlier self. Nice guys, though.

Later. Audience thin on the ground but we’re pressing ahead anyway. If nothing else it’s an extra rehearsal. Cloudbase up first. Great set. Sort of Cocteaus/Sundays slanted pop tunes. BBD play a muted electronica with heavy New Order/Depeche Mode influences. They have a couple of guitar issues but deliver the goods anyway. We play well to a sparse audience and get drunk with a few of them afterwards. Due to inebriation I can remember names but I think I took some photos. You know who you are, guys…thanks. Alex, the promoter has left us a crate of beer and the keys to the B&B where we’re staying. Imagine our surprise when we find we have the whole place to ourselves. There’s a pool table and a DJ system which Wombat gets working. Before long we’re all completely trashed. Andy beats everyone at pool. We go to bed when it gets light.

Aidan

Saturday, 1st June

The tour begins. Geoff arrives and introduces us to Eddie, our replacement driver. He seems cool. Despite our worries about getting to the Underworld due to the impending Jubilee celebrations, our fears are unfounded – the streets are eerily quiet. Camden. Setting up. Hours of waiting around due to non appearance of house engineer. Support acts Seventh Harmonic and Firefly appear. Nice people. Unfortunately, Firefly’s bassist is stuck in High Wycombe. They decide to go ahead and play without him. Brave. Soundcheck comes around. I am already worryingly wasted and think I’ll have to take it easy this evening. The onstage sound is far from clear but the consensus is that Wombat is making it sound good out front. I retire backstage to get my head together.

The gig. I’m looking after the merchandise stall during Firefly’s set. They’re very impressive, despite being a bass player short. They deliver a punchy half hour set of moody, thrashy guitar music and pick up quite a bit of interest from the audience. Maria and Glenn arrive to take over the merchandise stall so I can wonder about a bit for Seventh harmonic’s set. The perform well but suffer from a poor out-front sound – everything sounds indistinct and I gather they’re having a bit of a nightmare with the butcher who’s masquerading as the monitor mixer. A creditable performance, given the circumstances.

10pm. A brief chat with the band before we take the stage. The crowd are very enthusiastic and it’s nice to see a lot of familiar faces down at the front. Once again the on-stage sound is bad, but judging from the crowd’s reaction Wombat’s got the out-front nailed down. I have a minor heart attack during ‘Sympathy’ when I realise that Vic has forgotten some of the words. However, with great presence of mind she leans down and sticks the microphone in Stuart’s face, having seen him singing along. A great recovery disguised as a moment of out-and-out rock’n’rollery. Not an enjoyable gig to play, as I can’t hear much and am cueing from the drums by sight at times. However, the rapturous yelling as we finish ‘Transcendence’ and leave the stage is more than enough reward. Just enough time to chug down a can of lager before Adrian, the stage manager, rushes up yelling, ‘get back on stage – NOW!’ We play ‘Where the Rivers End’ and ‘Come as You Were’ for an encore. Crowd go mental.

Back at base, later. Consensus of opinion is that we played a blinder, even if we didn’t enjoy it much. Quietly inebriated. Bedtime.

Aidan

Friday 31st May (evening)

Final rehearsal tonight. Everything appears cool following yesterday's panic. Given that I prefer the simple life, why do I need so much stuff for a week away? This will be my last entry before the tour. The diary will revert to traditional pen and paper format for the duration and one of us will transcribe it when we get back.

Wish us luck, and we hope to see a few of you on the road

Aidan

Friday 31st May

OhMyGod. We are going on tour tomorrow. I can't believe the day has finally arrived (well, almost). Fortunately, everything seems to be working out fine. We have got a driver, just a bit of panic there, and Andrew has made a miraculous recovery from his killer lurgee (not that it would have made any difference - you'd have to cut his arms and legs off to stop him playing). It does feel like a miracle that we've all made it this far though; organising a tour is a great learning experience, and can at times actually be fun (uh?), but it doesn't half take it out of you. I have been worrying so much about which flyers to send to whom that I haven't had time to fret about what I am going to wear (something I would normally have been planning six months in advance for an event of this magnitude). I am just packing lots of fake flowers and glittery stuff and hoping for the best. Rose has been out shopping and bought lots of little tops an big shoes from Camden, and I'm sure the boys are having problems of their own (which black T-shirt to wear, which pair of black jeans...) It's all good.

Vic

Thursday, 30th May

Just read Vic's last entry.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Aidan

Thursday, 30th May

I suppose most sensible people know this already, but THINGS NEVER GO TO PLAN. We had a great rehearsal last Saturday, everyone was relaxed but excited, and we were feeling slightly smug because, despite various printing adventures and last minute date changes, we had got everything done with a week still to go. Ah-ha! This is when fate steps in and shakes his shaky stick at you. It all started when I discovered the artwork for the badges we were getting made was 'on the wrong sort of paper', then my printer decided that the new ink cartridge that I had gently inserted didn't in fact exist, and therefore refused to print anything, so now no badges. In addition, after a few desperate emails from promotors, it transpires that Royal Mail has been eating our promotional material and hence nobody in Edinburgh or Newcastle knows who we are - we ARE playing there, please come! And to round it off, this morning our driver announces that actually he may not be able to drive us as he has an offer on his house, but it's OK, a mate from Holland may be able to do it. That's fine, we'll just hitch-hike. Does anyone know where we can hire a splitter bus?? Despite all of the above, and the general state of upfuckery-induced madness suffered by most of the band at the moment, the tour IS going ahead. And we are still looking forward to it. Hoorah!

Vic

Monday, 27th May

I wonder if it's possible to die from being nervous. Busy weekend, last minute flyering at the Gotham all-dayer. Arse. Standing outside in the pissing rain knowing that Xymox were playing later and I wouldn't see them as I had to get back to Brum and go to work Monday. I wonder how Andrew and Vic got on on the late shift? Dave Excession very kindly took some flyers to distribute inside. I reciprocated by handing out flyers for Excessions' new album. It's nice to know that there's a group out there that takes even longer to make records than we do. Also had the chance to chat with Andy from Resurrection about distribution on 'Wisdom...' and it was nice to catch up with him anyway. Everything else seems to be pretty cool except half the band are dying from a mysterious lurgi. But they seem to be recovering, so (fingers crossed) we should all be present and correct next Saturday at the Underworld. We'll just have to tell Wombat to keep his fingers ready on the vocal faders to mix out the coughing, spluttering and the long-drawn out 'eeeeeeuurgh' noises of phlegm being extracted from bronchii and sinuses. Yummy.

Aidan

Sunday 26th May

Well I got the short straw and on a cold wet Sunday evening hauled my carcass over to the Camden Palace to flyer the Gotham all dayer - our last big opportunity to promote the Underworld gig and the tour.  Now anyone who knows me will know that standing outside in the cold, trying to entice strangers into conversation and handing out flyers, is definitely not my idea of fun.

I arrived at about 9.45 pm. It's the first time I'd set eyes on the Camdem Palace since the 80's and well, it seemed a lot smaller and dingier than I remembered it (anyone remember Rusty Egan's night?). Oh, and there were security cameras outside which made me a little dubious about hanging around.  I made the best of it and managed to drag a few unwary folk into conversation. Some of them had even heard of us which was cool. One remarked that if the music was as good as the graphics then we should be very good indeed. Well I'm biased but....! Vic arrived at around 10.30 and I have to say I was relieved to see a familiar face, all chirpy and up for it. Vic was up and away just as the trickle of people exiting the venue started to grow. This also coincided with the number of people handing out flyers - poor folk were inundated!

I departed at around 11.15 to catch the last tube home and was pleased to see only two Waterglass flyers on the floor!

Andrew

Thursday 23rd May

Endless nightmare of up-fuckery. However, things appear to be sorting themselves out. The final round of promotional material is being sent out and there have been lots of desperate calls to radio stations trying to get airplay and plugs for some of the gigs. It looks like we'll have some T-Shirts printed in time for the launch party at the Underworld, which is a relief. We have two more rehearsals to go before taking the stage. This is unnerving, but I have to say that we're currently sounding like we should. A minor miracle considering the state of affairs a couple of months ago. People who bestride the world like collossi this week:

1. Everyone who has been distributing flyers and posters.
2. Acorn Printing for being very helpful with the T-Shirts at short notice.
3. The front end staff at a variety of local radio stations for being friendly.

We salute you!

Note to self/band: we should really compile a list of credits after the tour so we can properly thank everyone who has helped to make it possible.

Aidan

Friday 17th May

Two weeks to go. Notes to band for organising next tour:

1. Whatever it is, work out how many you need then double it. That's how many you'll really need.

2. There are more DJs and clubs out there than you think there are.

3. T-Shirt printing companies come and go like the mist in the dawn.

4. Worry about the cost later.

5. People are, in general, very helpful and if you ask them nicely you can take all sorts of liberties with their time.

6. Never trust a Pink Floyd tribute band.

Rehearsals going well & the live sound will be great. Setlist has been decided on & Wombat (sound engineer extraordinaire) has been in to fine tune the stage sound. Base camp in London looks like the lost graveyard of musical gear - or the nest of a large and deranged magpie with a taste for elderly guitars and synthesisers. Geoff, the man with the van who's thriving on driving TM, has been retrieved from Poland. It has just occurred to me that Waterglass really are going on tour. Oh fuck.

Aidan