Wednesday, February 3, 2010


Woke up this morning to the sound of my mobile phone letting me know I have a new message. It's Lee from the other room letting me know he's going to work in five minutes. I force myself out of the warm and cosy bed in his spare room. I don't feel as bad as maybe I deserve, or maybe that's coming later. Right now it's managable anyway..

I chat with Lee for a short while. He's made us up a goodie bag full of Scottish classics like shortbread, tablet, Irn Bru etc. I hug him goodbye before he leaves. I'm looking forward to when he and Kelly come to visit in a few weeks time. After Lee leaves, I go back to bed for a while, stepping over Jon, who is curled up, snoring on the hall way floor, on the way. I get the feeling we're not going to be keeping to our scheduled 11am departure time today. Fuck knows where Johan even is!

After pressing the snooze button on my alarm for the third time, I pull myself out of bed for good. Fuck, I feel tired! The end of the tour is in sight now and when it comes, I'm going to need a break from the booze for a while. The lack of sleep and healthy diet is really starting to tell now. When I get home, the gym needs a visit...

I go about dragging the other guys up. Jon tucks straight in to his bottle of Fernet, strill drunk, saying he's not ready to face it yet...Andy looks a bit of a wreck too. Big night for those guys last night. I can't even remember letting them back in. They said they'd taken a cab back but had absolutely no idea where they were going and just happened to spot the van, so jumped out of the cab. Apparently it had taken a while for me to come and open the door.

I force myself into the shower and try to wash away last night's booze. We sit around and munch on some of the treats Lee has bought us. I'm really chuffed to hear that the boys really dig the crumpets and the shortbread. Two things I always have friends bring with them from home when they visit Sweden. Love it.

Just as we're discussing where Johan is and wondering when he's gonna turn up, he texts us saying he'll be here in ten minutes. He turns up shortly thereafter looking like he's still a bit drunk. He's grinning like a fucking chesire cat. I guess he had a good time last night. We all throw a cup of tea down and then get in the van. I really want to stop somewhere and buy a bottle of Buckfast for my friends Linus back home. It's this insane fortified wine that all the Scottish wasters get pissed on. It gets you drunk really fast, really cheap. No wonder the Jocks love it. Unfortunately, the guy I ask at the supermarket about the beverage tells me that they no longer sell it. Apparently Bucky is only sold by a small amount of independent shops these days. I ask the guy if the situation with Buckfast and Scotland is that bad, to which he scoffs” Er...Aye!” So that will have to be one for the list when Lee comes to visit in April.

We get to Leeds a little late but true to form, Municipal are only just turning up as we do. They all look hungover too. Dave tells me that he missed me at breakfast this morning. I remember then that we had planned to meet for breaky at this really great cafe in Glasgow called Where The Monkey Sleeps. I totally blanked it this morning. Even as Dave reminds me now, it's really only a blurry drunken memory. There is no way I could have made it there for the planned 10am rendevous anyway.

The venue is absolutely fucking freezing inside and when we load in they are playing really loud music. Why would they do that? It's so fucking unnecesarry. And what's the problem with putting some heating on really? We get loaded in and laze around in the dressing room for a while. There is another gig on tonight, in the smaller room. We're sharing a dressing room with the other bands that are playing. We hang out with the singer from the band Twin Atlantic for a while. Seems like a really nice guy. It turns out he used to work as the bar manager in Nice n' Sleazys in Glasgow, the scene of last night's piss up.

When soundcheck is done, I head out into town to meet up with Snitch and my sister Carly. I'm really glad she could come to the gig tonight, we don't see enough of each other these days, since we both left Corby a long time ago. Her new boyfriend Nick was also coming to the show tonight. I was looking forward to meeting him for the first time. They seem really serious and I'm happy for her. Funny that the first time he meets me I'll be jumping around on stage like a knob, playing a hardcore show. I don't think Nick knows too much about that stuff so it'll be a fun experience for them.

I meet them in a pub accross the road from the venue. I feel hungover as shit now. Snitch has already been messaging me asking if I'm ready for a piss up tonight. I think I need a pint of Guinness. When I get into the pub and hug Carly and Snitch, I'm told Nick is at the bar buying me a pint of the Black Stuff. I love him already. Even though I've heard he's an Everton fan, with one gesture, he's made up for that indiscrepancy and won me over! That first sip of Guinness tastes dangerously good.

Nick is a really nice guy and we have fun chatting over a few pints of the good stuff. Jon turns up for a while and we get on with making ourselves fit enough for the show. After three pints of Guiness I'm actually starting to feel drunk again. That wasn't really the intention. Before we know it, it's time to get back for tonight's earlier than usual show. It's all a bit stressed when we arrive back at the venue. The first two local bands had played a little longer than scheduled. Surprise surprise. I hear the monitor guy moaning to his friend that we should have been on four minutes ago, I explain the situation to him and he shuts up.

We get going as soon as we can. The venue is packed out as per usual on these Waste shows. The atmosphere feels good too. I play totally shit for the first three songs though! I shouldn't have had that third Guinness. I flash back to a gig here with Speedhorn a long time ago. That gig was one of the only two shows I've ever played that I have absolutely no memory of, due to being completely steaming on stage! Strangely enough that gig at the Cockpit years ago also involved Snitch and Guiness. I'm determined to sharpen up and I do manage to get it together within a couple of songs.

The gig goes really well after that. People seem really into it. I really enjoy the show. I don't even break a string tonight, something I've managed to do at each other last five or so shows. There are a couple of guys down the front who really seem to be loving it, they keep offering me their Newcastle Brown Ale between songs, which I happily take. At one point Jon shouts out a song to the crowd, screaming ”This song goes out to all you colonising bastards!” He seems to have fallen in love with Scotland last night.

As soon as we play the last note, I make a bit of a deal of shaking Monitor Man's hand. He did actually give us a good stage sound, despite his earlier moaning. I dry of in the dressing room after the show and then go down to meet the guys. Carly is as pissed as a fart by the time I get down to the bar. She definately likes the sauce when she's in the mood. She really is hillarious and I love her to bits. They seemed to have a really good time watching the show anyway. We hang out for a little while longer but they soon have to leave since they're working early tomorrow. One thing that really makes me sick about my sister is that she never seems to get hangovers. I hate that. Anyway, they get going so we say bye. We're all meeting up in Hamburg for my dad's 60th birthday the weekend after this tour is over, so I don't feel as sad as I normally would saying goodbye to Carly.

We're staying at Snitch's place tonight, which I'm happy about since that measn we get to hang out properly. Snitch was the best man at our wedding and is like a brother to me. Like a lot of my good friends, we see each other far too rarely. We drink a couple of Newky Browns and watch the Municipal show. I've totally levelled out since we played and now it feels like I could drink all night and not get drunk. Sometimes it's like that after a big night. We have a good time watching the Waste as always. I have to crack up at one point when Tony lays in to the first two bands playing tonight. He wonders aloud why the fuck they are playing with bands like them. I think he's a bit pissed about them making the running order late with their earlier local hero band antics. I've seen it so many times by now and yet it still shocks me. These bands get a big show supporting a big band they most probably love, and they completley fuck it up for themselves by getting carried away and playing for way too long. I've even seen some of these bands play encores in the past. Don't they get it? If you are going to put the headlining band on twenty minutes late when there is a strict curfew on the club then the headlining band is not going to like you. I do feel a bit sorry for the guys in the opening bands as Tony basically calls them shit on stage.  Apparently the singer in the opening band had a fucking sword on stage with him though, so I don't actually feel that sorry for them.

We're hanging out by the merch table afterwards and I notice the bouncers are clearing the room really fast. This sucks for us since we sell most of our merch at the end of the night, as do Municipal. What a fucking club. All they give a fuck about is kicking everybody out just to let them back in again five minutes later for another fee, just to listen to some shit DJ playing shit music. We do manage to sell a litte before the enforced exodus but it turns out to be easily the lowest night, sales wise, on the Municipal tour. Annoying since the gig felt really good and we probably could have sold a bit.

One guy comes up to me on the way out and asks me if I was in ”Fucking Speedhorn?”. Johan and Snitch laugh as I tell him I was indeed in Fucking Speedhorn. He says that he spent his youth listenng to that band. I tell him what a waste of time that must have been. I'm joking of course but it seems to throw him a bit.

As we're loading out at the end of the night, Tony is storming around looking for Lewis. He's shouting about how he's never playing this club again. I guess he's pissed at the merch exodus situation. I understand. I mean, those guys are on tour all year round. This is what they do full time, and it's their merchandise sales that pay their rent. Again, I hate to say it, but it's the typical kind of treatment you get playing in the UK.

We head off shortly after the van is packed. We drive the thirty minutes or so back to Snich's place in York, via the 24 hours Tesco, where we stop to pick up some wine. We get back to his flat and drink a couple of glasses and play some FIFA 2010. The rest of the guys drop off pretty quickly whereas me and Snitch stay up until around 3am. We finally crash out watching tv a while later, not able to keep our eyes open any longer.

It's been so great meeting so many good friends on this tour.

1 comment:

  1. all of Scotland loves Jon too, haha "colonising bastards" total genius!