Manchester

I did not get a lot of sleep last night. Woke up sometime around seven absolutely dying for a piss but with no energy to climb down from the warm bunk and trek down the corridor to the bog. I don't know how many times I've been through this ridiculous routine. I lie there aching in the bladder but due to the tired stupor I'm in, pointlessly try to convince myself I'll be able to sleep it off. It never happens. And then about a half hour later I'll finally give up and rouse myself from bed, robbing myself of much needed sleep.

For the first time since we left home, I felt really tired this morning. Johan looked tired too. He's done pretty much all the driving so far. Johan and Claes had decided to share the driving on this tour, but obviously with the shit situation Claes has landed in, having to take medication that doesn’t allow him to drive, it's been pretty much been on Johan. Claes feels bad about it but the most important thing for him and for us is that he's ok. Don't want to see Claes in the state he was in in Kortrijk again...

Breakfast was fucking shite this morning. They had it set up in the bar that hosted the karaoke last night, a bountiful selection of sliced white bread, butter and jam along with a choice of Corn Flakes or Rice Crispies. The coffee was cack too. Still, a free breakfast is a free breakfast.

The journey to Manchester took around five hours, about half of which was just getting out of London. As much as I like to visit the place and hang out with my friends for a few days there, I could never live in London. It suffocates you if you stay too long. I guess Kev and the boys have it pretty good down in Deptford but if I had to spend more than a couple of days in Camden I'd fucking implode!

We pull up to the venue around three-thirty, about a half hour ahead of schedule. We're in the Salford area of Manchester, just the other side of the canal from the city centre. Obviously with my footballing allegiances being with Liverpool, I've always had a built in prejudice against Manchester as a place, but in all honesty it's a nice enough city, better than most in the England in fact. We played here a lot back in the day with Speedhorn and it was always a good show. This part of Salford though really is desolate looking. Johan looks pretty fucking knackered and opts to stay in the van and wait for load-in, as does Jon, but the rest of us go for a wander around the estate.

It looks like a set from This is England. There are a lot of high rise buildings with boarded up windows, an old theatre in ruins, and old factory missing a roof. It's as if after the German's blitzed the city nobody bothered to rebuild this area. There is a young, scruffy looking kid kicking a ball against a wall on his own, a pit bull terrier walking around unleashed, no apparent owner in sight, a young teenage girl pushing a pram around and the sky is turning a menacing shade of grey. We head back to the venue, satisfied that we've stretched our legs.

The venue itself, which is situated right in the middle of all this, is a really cool place. A vibrant arts centre with painting studios and graphic design offices it's a buzz with artistic energy. The building is in stark contrast to it's surroundings. The people here are all very friendly too, very talkative and happy to help out with whatever we need. The gig room is pretty cool too. Low ceiling, brick walls, sofas dotted around the space a little off the sides and the stage is low. The only thing that slightly spoils it are these two supporting pillars in the middle of the stage. I'll have to be careful not to smash my guitar into them.

After last night's fucking around I was hoping for a hassle free night tonight and was therefore delighted to hear that we'd be sleeping in an apartment that was housed within the venue's complex. Perfect. It's not very often you get that in the UK, it's more of a mainland thing. It's a nice feeling to just park the van up, load out and know that you don't have to move anything until the morning. I think Johan is looking forward to a well earned piss up tonight. It feels like there is a party in the air tonight, everyone safe in the knowledge that they can just go crash whenever they want to.

After load in, we hung out in another building on the other side of the courtyard from the venue, just relaxing and eating dinner. My sister and soon-to-be-brother-in-law live around here and they turned up to the show around seven thirty. It was great to see them. As close as we are we see each other far too seldom. When I was at my parents the other day my mum had put on an old home video from some barbecue party when we were kids, think I was eleven and Carly was nine or something. I was being a right little arsehole with the camera, not letting Carly have a go and she got upset. She was so cute when she was a kid and she looked really sad because I was being the selfish older brother. I've been wanting to apologise and give her a hug since I saw the tape..

We hung out over in the dinner building, chatting and drinking a couple of beers for the best part of two hours. Carly and Nick are getting married in six weeks time. Seems crazy that my little sister is getting hitched. Seems crazy that my little sister turns thirty two this year...It really was great to see them both. I felt the usual pangs of homesickness that I always do whenever I meet my family. It was the same the other day at my parents house. Looking forward to coming over for the wedding, it's going to be an epic day if I know my sister.

It was another great show tonight. The three UK shows have all gone beyond expectations so far. The place was pretty crowded and there was a good buzz during the set. I managed to successfully avoid the pillars and my guitar remained in tact, although as usual I broke another string. Didn't kill the energy on stage though. It was a little weird playing a stage that was brightly lit for the entirety of the show, it really felt like we were playing a community centre. The crowd seemed to be in to the gig though. Strangely this was Victims first ever gig in Manchester. Great first show...

My sister and Nick had to leave shortly after our set since they both had work in the morning, so after saying goodbye to them and giving them both a sweat drenched hug I went out to get some fresh air before heading in to have a beer and watch the Black Breath set. It was real Manchester weather outside. The weather has been kind to us in the UK up until this point but tonight it was really pissy. It was fucking freezing standing in the dark night air of the courtyard and I soon retreated back into the venue.

Jon and I stood for almost the entire Black Breath set off to the side of the stage, drinking bottles of Budvar. It was a lot of fun watching Jamie and the boys blast it out, they are a ridiculously talented band of musicians. The crowd went apeshit for their set and we had a great time watching them, enjoying the cold beer in our hands as we did so. In typical Manchester fashion though there was plenty of piss taking and heckling between songs. Doesn't matter if they really like you, they still like to take the piss. “How many Entombed songs can you actually play?”, someone shouts, referring to Black Breath's proud Scandinavian influences, Jamie was quick to retort though. “How many teeth do you have?”. I fucking pissed myself at that! Nice one Jamie boy.

After the show, the crowd filtered out past the merch stall pretty quickly. A little too quickly since we didn't sell as much tonight. Maybe that's more in keeping with what's to be expected though and not the heady heights we enjoyed in London last night. Just the way it is sometimes here, great shows and responsive crowds don't always equal high merch sales. There is a recession on after all.

Andy pulled a fucking classic on me. He's heading off to the bar and asks me if I want a beer. Nice one Andy! He duly comes back with two bottles of Budvar and puts both on the table. I'm just finishing the dregs of the bottle I already have in my hand as Andy drops his bottle on the floor, spilling it's contents dangerously close to Tormented's merch box. Andy doesn't say anything, just takes the other bottle he's bought for me and drinks that instead. Brilliant. I'll get myself off to the bar then Big Man...

The venue cleared out and we were invited to stay for a lock-in. I love a lock-in, what could possibly be better than having a bar all to yourself to have a party in with your friends? Fucked if I can think of anything! Claes and Mark chose to take advantage of a good nights sleep, but everyone else was at the bar, along with the good folks who'd booked the show. We had some good music, plenty of great beer and lots of banter. I had a long chat with Eric about our favourite sports, baseball and football, and the problems with the money driven businesses they've both become. As I was talking to hear him I could and feel my words beginning to slur.. And then the shots started to come out.

I got into long chats with Elijah and Jamie about hardcore and touring and with Johan about his driving and how I appreciate all he does for us. Jocke and Jon are having a slurred argument somewhere about black metal and death metal and which is better. Jon is pretty sauced, but then again we all are tonight. Earlier Elijah had chatted with Jon for about twenty minutes about Nasum without even knowing Jon was in the band. “No way man! Killer!” was the reaction from our friend the Wizard when he finally clocked on.

We're lucky on this tour to have three bands that are all such good friends. They are all great guys and as the clock gets later and the beer continues to flow I start to get that loving feeling, the one I always get when I'm boats where I inevitably end up hugging people and telling them I love them, man.

It's around three-thirty in the morning and I'm really starting to feel drunk. Not shit faced but I'm getting to the point where if I drink much more then I'm going to end up there. Andy is looking like he's in the same boat as we converse at the bar. Andy is doing his best to convince himself that he's done drinking for the night.

Andy - “I feel really bloated”, rubbing his stomach to demonstrate.

Me - “I feel dizzy”

Andy - “We should probably call it a night?”

Me - “One more?”

Andy - “OK”.

Together - “Two beers please!”

Andy, Johan and Jon leave together a short while later, waving in unison as they exit, looking like they're on a tv game show or something. Tickles me somewhat. I stay for one last beer before finally calling it a night, by now feeling totally fucked. Jamie, Drette, Elijah and Eric are the last left, along with Emma who has been doing a stellar job of looking after the bands all night. She still is by the looks of it as she's corking open another bottle of Jagermeister and threatening them with shots.

Eric is not far behind me though and we head back to the dormitory in the band flat. When we arrive Jon is still awake. He's climbed up into the bunk above mine and is fumbling around trying to remove his jeans. Seems to be having a hard time of it. Me and Eric head to the bathroom to brush our teeth. Just as I'm inwardly commending myself on being of a sound enough mind to brush my gads despite the level of drunkenness I'm experiencing, my toothbrush projects from my mouth in wild laughter as I notice Jon is now naked in bed. Naked, except for his bandanna and gaffa taped glasses.

“Why are you naked?” I manage to ask him between bellows of laughter.

“You love it. But you can't look at it” is Jon's reply to that question. He repeats this line over and over again, pissing himself laughing. I don't even want to look at the clock by the time my head slams into the pillow, I just know tomorrow is going to be a rough one...   

London

It's always great to see my parents, even if it's only for a few hours. A night in my old bed, mum pestering around me in the morning making me breakfast. They'd even gone to the trouble of buying Linda McCartney's veggie sausages. I remember when I first told them I'd became a vegetarian it was as if I was coming out of the closet. My dad confronted me about it the first time I was home after having told them..”What's this you don't like bacon any more?”. Typical dad.

I was looking forward to a long night's sleep in the old bed but ended up only managing about six hours. I didn't want to spend the morning in bed and pass up the chance to hang out with my mum who was off work today. We see each other far to seldom as it is. I could sacrifice a few hours sleep. Snitch came around in the morning, he's like a part of the family himself, always calls my mum “mother”. Had a great morning, just sat around the dining room table drinking tea and catching up with the family Dad was in and out from work as usual. He seems to spend half of his working day at home, it's been a running joke in our family for a long time. He always claims he works his balls off but then he's always got the same old smirk on his face whilst he claims this. I guess after thirty odd years though he's just got his job pretty sussed.

Snitch gave me a ride over to Kettering train station and we grabbed a coffee and sat on the platform waiting for the train to pull in to the station. It's been surprisingly sunny since we arrived in England.. I got into London around three and met up with the guys by All Ages Records in Camden. Miles was wanting to take some shirts off of us to sell in the shop and I of course wanted to buy some records. I ended up buying a handful of lp's, including a Gauze bootleg which had Fuckheads on one side and Equalizing Distort on the other. I already had Fuckheads but still..

We hung out at the shop for a while since we had some time to kill before load in at The Underworld around the corner. The guys had slept at one of the people who ran the show in Nottingham last night. Seven of them all in the one flat. They said it was comfortable enough although apparently somebody was having some loud, ass slapping sex in one of the other rooms whilst they tried to sleep.

Playing in London certainly has it's good and bad sides. I always get to catch up with a load of mates who live here and the shows are normally great but the traffic in this city can drive you fucking mad. And there is nowhere to park the van, you have to load out in twenty minutes straight out of the van with cars flying past you before rushing off with in the vain hope of finding somewhere to park the van legally. Peter decided to simply take the parking ticket and leave his van and trailer parked conveniently outside the loading doors of the Underworld.

We loaded in and set up, and after replacing last night's broken strings, I went off to meet Leon, one of my oldest friends. We played in our first real band together, played our first shows together. I always thought he was going to make a life of playing music, such was his passion for it but it turned out that he's also a great writer and ended up with a career in journalism. He's done really well for himself, interviewing film stars all over the world. He's always been really happy for me though, that I was the one that went on and did the music thing. I was happy to hear therefore that Leon has started playing in bands again, he has a two piece post-rock doom band called Tulip together with some girl from Portland. He sent me a link to some stuff a while ago and it was great. I hope they're going to get out and start playing some shows.

We went to a new bar around the corner which is a Brew Dog Brewery establishment. We were joined by Johan and Jon after having had an hour or so to catch up. I had a couple of fine tap ales and a great veggie pizza. By the time we were done though I was fucking bloated and the senses were a little blurred. No more beer until after the show for me.

We headed back to the venue to find Kev and the guys had arrived. As fun as it is playing a show on tour where a load of mates turn up, you almost feel like it's a waste of a visit since you wish you had more time just to hang out. When you're on tour there is always loads of other stuff to take care of. Still great to see everyone though. Joe and Tom from Attack Vipers came down with a goodie bag of merch for me that I traded for some Victims stuff. Chuffed with that!

Since most of the friends I meet up with on tour are other guys from bands who I've met in this very environment, it's always fun to meet up with a friend from who comes from a whole other part of my life.

I got to know Anders when he got together with our friend Annica a few years ago and we've been good friends ever since. He's from Stockholm but he's currently living in London as part of a three year project with work. I'd say about eighty percent of my circle of friends are musicians, or at least, people who play in bands. Anders on the other hand is the only friend I have who is a priest. He's a very liberal priest but a priest nonetheless. He's also one of the nicest guys you could ever wish to meet. The first time we ever hung out the two of us ended up steaming and we've been pissed up together on more than one occasion since. Still, the sight of him at the gig in his newly purchased Victims t-shirt, the one with the upside down cross in the logo, was quite the fucking picture! Kev thought it was absolutely great! He'd almost spat his pint out when I told him what Anders did for a living.

It was another great show tonight. Kind of like last night, but on a stage. The place was packed out and although I was struggling with the sound again, the atmosphere both on the stage and in the crowd nullified that problem. It's something I'm going to have to sort out though. I had some huge mohawked punk rocker guy going crazy for the whole set in front of me. I saw Kev down in front of Jon, seemingly having a good time of it too. It was again ridiculously hot on stage and I was pretty fucked by the end of the show.

For some reason it always seems to be the case that merch sales are a lot lower in the UK, a lot of bands I know say they always struggle with that particular problem on these shores, even when the shows have been great. Tonight though the records and shirts were flying out. I had a great time hanging out at the merch table with the band and our friends. For some reason I wasn't really in the mood for drinking that much but I was more than content just to hang out. Typical London though, about fifteen minutes after Black Breath were done, they started kicking us and everyone else out. Thanks for your time boys now fuck off! We hung out for a little longer in the dressing room before eventually being chased from there too. We loaded the gear out in to the van and literally as soon as the last bag was out, a bouncer came behind us and closed the doors. Good old London hospitality.

There was some talk of going out to a bar or something but I was more than happy to just head back to the hostel, still amazed that the venue had even provided one. When were then told the hostel had a bar that was decision made. Johan, who is driving the van, obviously wanted to get parked up for the night so he could have a well earned jar.

The hostel was a bit of a drive away, just south of the river over in Borough. I sat next to Jon in the back, who had purchased a two litre bottle of Strongbow that he was more than happy to pass around the van. We found the hostel easy enough but parking the van was a whole other matter. Andy ran over to the hostel to check with reception but the guy working there was about as much fucking use as chocolate tea pot! When Andy asked him if he knew anywhere we could park he just looked blankly at him. When Andy asked him what other patrons normally do he replied that other patrons don't normally turn up in cars. Fucking London! He did actually go to the hassle of googling some car parks but the only thing he could find was a place that cost eighty quid for twenty-four hour parking and was a bit away. We dropped the guys off with the bags and Johan and I drove off in search of other alternatives.

We must have driven around for half hour or so and found fuck all. The only thing we could find were places that were for residents only, between the hours of eight am and six pm. Being tired and pissed off we figured that it was worth it just to pay the fine since it worked out cheaper than a car park anyway. How fucked up is that really? Fuck it, we'd chance the fine. Certainly not getting up and leaving before eight...

Kev was telling me earlier that they've recently raised the emissions cost on old cars and vans, that don't conform to required regulations, to one hundred quid a day. That goes by the date too and not a twenty four hour limit. In other words it costs a hundred quid before midnight and another hundred after. This has been causing a lot of suffering in the punk scene since a lot of bands have old vans and the cost of playing a show in London, just to get into the fucking city, is two hundred nicker. On top of that there is some new fucking proposition the government has put in place that severely restricts venues putting on live music since it requires anyone putting bands on to apply a month in advance, citing the band names, type of music, names of band personnel and all other types of shite, meaning if one band pulls out due to whatever circumstance the whole show has to be pulled. And of course, if you're applying for a punk show that gives the cops a heads up and you can be sure as fuck they'll be sniffing around just wanting the slightest hint of anything to cause hassle. I guess this just pushes the DIY punk scene further underground which isn't necessarily a bad thing. What the fuck is this country coming to? What with shite like this and other insanities, such as the thought of the NHS disappearing and fuck knows what else with it, I'm glad I got out.

We get to the hostel where Andy is waiting with a room key for us. The place is called Bed and Bars and it is exactly that. There are some dormitories upstairs where we'll be sleeping and there is a rowdy karaoke bar full of pissed, young English trash singing shite like Oasis. Jocke had asked Neil if he was coming for a pint but he refrained, saying it reminded him of everything he hates about the USA. Funny that, I know exactly how he feels.

We head up to the room where Claes is busy with his computer looking for alternatives to a free day we have coming up. After Cardiff there is a spare day before we play Bordeaux. We were originally supposed to be playing Paris, which would have been perfect but that fell on it's arse. The label that put the Tormented record out, who are based in France, have said they've sorted a gig out in Nantes if we want it. It will be no pay but free accommodation and food, as well as the chance to sell merch. It's a long way though. We'll have to sleep on it.

We head down to the bar and into a scene of utter nonsense. Loads of chavs singing shite songs, pissed on shite beer. Jocke, Drette, Robban and Jon are hanging out at the end of the bar, observing it all with wide grins on their faces. This is England chaps.

This was about as far away from what I'd envisioned for myself tonight. I'd hoped for a quiet hostel bar, a couple of quality beers and some chat before bed. I went over to Johan at the bar who had asked the clueless looking barmaid if he could sample the IPA they had on tap. It tasted like warm dish water. It was slim pickings and I eventually opted for a pint of Amstel. Shite but it was about as good as it got.

I thought for a minute that the guys were going to get up and sing, Jon seemed to be saying something about it, although he was teetering on the edge of Lynch mode, where he talks really slow and deliberately due to the intake of booze in his system. I was praying he wasn't going to get up in front of this crowd with his bandanna and lather vest on, the cunts in here would tear him to pieces! I left before having to witness such a thing, knowing fine well I'd be powerless to dissuade him. The rest of the guys were soon back in the dormitory though, so I guess it never panned out.

I had a surprisingly enjoyable shower in one of the corridor shower rooms. I was intrigued by a room that had the sign Unisex Washroom on it, wondering if it was ever used. Seemed a bit saucy to me. I got into bed about two thirty, my bed being the bunk above Claes. Before I got truly comfortable I was climbing back down and heading off down the corridor for a piss. Before finally putting my laptop away an hour later, I'd been back been back and forth to the bog three times, on each occasion pissing like a fucking horse!

I finally drifted off sometime around four am, the possessed by a demon like sounds of snoring bellowing from one of the other bunks in the dark dormitory...  

Nottingham

Felt rough this morning, although probably not as rough as I should have. If I was at home right now then I'd probably lie on the sofa all day feeling sorry for myself. That not being an option I pulled myself out of bed, packed my bag and slurked downstairs to the hotel restaurant for breakfast.

It was more than worth the hassle. In keeping with last night's hospitality the breakfast was top notch. Most of the other guys were there, tucking in. Jon was nowhere to be seen, but that's hardly shocking. He looked pretty boats by the time I went to bed last night. Andy and I sit down next to an extremely chuffed looking Drette. “They have a guy who is frying eggs to order!”, a smile of delight spread across his face.

With a journey to Nottingham ahead of us, which included the hassle of getting a ferry from Calais across the channel, we had to get going. We'd decided last night on ten am, since the van was packed and ready to go and with us gaining an hour back upon arrival in England, that should just about be ample. It was a beautiful morning and in the sunshine, Kortrijk seemed to be contently humming to the lull of a Sunday morning. Still no sign of Jon.. Johan had called him from reception when ten am had been and gone and awoken him from his slumber. “What are you doing?” “Just stretching my legs..what time are we leaving? Twelve?”..

He finally appeared, looking a little puffy around the eyes, and we got going. The drive to Calais only took an hour or so but we had a bit of fucking around at the ferry port which put us back a bit. We drove through passport control, then had to get out of the van and walk through another passport control, only to then be told the ticket office was outside the ferry port area. We had to drive back out, buy tickets and then repeat the whole process. One of the passport officers joked with Jocke, “It's not too late to turn back you know!” Cue more piss taking at the expense of myself and the motherland.

The rest of the journey was long and uneventful. The ferry took longer than I thought and when we made land fall I knew we'd be struggling to make the get-in time of six pm. Tonight's show is a small DIY floor show though so hopefully it will be cool. I love playing these shows. After three nights of playing stages that separate the band from the crowd, I was buzzing in anticipation of tonight. This was a day that Vincent, Black Breath's booker, had struggled to pin anything down, in other words struggled to get a guaranteed fee. That being the case we all agree it's better to play a DIY show on a door deal than have a day off, and of course, the DIY show is infinitely more fun.

I have some mates coming to the show tonight, as well as a bunch of people I know from the Nottingham scene I'm looking forward to catching up with, people like Gords and Andy from Endless Grinning Skulls and Jeremie from Robots. so it should be a fun night. Wolfbeast Destroyer are opening up too, looking forward to seeing them again. The last time we played with those guys was an amazing show we had at the late, great Indian Queen in Boston. Another venue that has no sadly bitten the dust.

We pulled up at almost exactly the same time as Black Breath, who had made the same ferry as us. Boulty, who was putting the show on, was running around trying to get stuff sorted. I felt bad since we were about an hour late, but he was cool. He understood that we'd had a journey from Belgium to contend with today. The venue was a recording studio/rehearsal space situated on the second floor of a run down building somewhere on the outskirts of the city centre. There were already a lot of people milling around when we got there. Wolfbeast were in the middle of setting up due to the uncertainty of our arrival. The first thing I noticed was the steepness of the iron staircase leading to the venue. The thought of loading in up that gave me a knot in my stomach. Thankfully there was an elevator though and we hurriedly unloaded the vans and filled it.

I got inside and tried to take the lift up only to find it was dead. And then I couldn't open the door and found myself stuck inside this lift packed with gear. Fuck. Do not need this. Boulty came and got me out soon enough though but the lift was well and truly fucked. That knot reappeared in my stomach but once again Boulty countered with good news. There is another lift. We loaded out and loaded in again, this time taking it in fewer, lighter loads.

By the time we had dumped the gear in a corridor behind the room where the gig would be held, Wolfbeast were about ready to go. Considerably stressed from rushing around, the cold beer in my hand Kimmins gave me when I finally got to catch up with them was a God send. Wolfbeast blasted through their set and the place was pretty packed. I guess there must have been over a hundred people in this tiny room. After a long day travelling, the boredom, the tiredness, it was all suddenly worth it again. I was buzzing by now.

Ben from the now defunct Jealous came along tonight, he'd been promising me copies of their two 7”s since the last time we played Nottingham. He showed up just as we were loading in. Really chuffed to finally get my hands on those records! I felt bad since I didn't really have that much time to talk but the stress of the load-in demanded my attention. I'm sure he understands. He knows how it is..

Another childhood friend of mine who now lives in Nottingham, James, also came along. Was great to see him as always. He's just been in the States for the first time, playing with his band Fists who were touring with Obits. Was really fun hearing about that. After Wolfbeast's set we quickly set up the rest of the gear that the three touring bands were using and then I managed to get away for a swift jar with my mates. In typical James fashion, he was apprehensive about going to the pub right next door, “It's the fucking wild west in there!”. If I know James, then he's probably never even been in there. We went off in search of another pub, but being pressed for time I insisted we try the Wild West out.

We walk in and it's like somebody has transported The Rock to Nottingham. Tiny little place, full of old drunks. To make matters all the more entertaining, they had a karaoke night on. Total fucking Cuckoo's Nest stuff. This friendly old boy at the bar pestered me the whole time I was waiting to be served about getting on the mic and a belting a tune out. Could only understand about half of what he was saying but I got away with humouring him with the odd vague reply. It didn't really matter, he barely registered anything I said anyway since he was totally fucking steamboats.

We got a round of Guinness in and retired to the darts room which was small, seperate room off to the sidea and completely empty, the humdrum of the karaoke now just a distant noise. It was good catching up with the guys and by the time the Guinness had gone down I found myself wishing I could stay longer. That's just the way it is though. We headed back to the venue in time to see the second half of Tormented's set. The place was packed and they sounded great. They were having a blinding show and the crowd were loving it. Best of all, I was delighted to see Claes, albeit a little sedated, still on stage. Fucking hero! He made the whole set and there was a collective feeling of elation for him shared between the lot of us. We had to form a cue to give the fucker a hug after their show was done.

I loved every last second of our set tonight. There is nothing quite like playing a packed out floor show. It didn't even matter that I broke a string first song, or indeed another later on during the gig. I love when you're one with the crowd, just a big communal feeling, no band, no audience, we're all just doing this together.

We blast through the set and for the first time this tour I feel like everything is landing, the auto-pilot has kicked in. Of course it could be as much to do with the fact that it's all so fucking loud the walls are shaking and nobody can tell the difference anyway! I have some big punk guy stood in front of me the whole show who I make a connection with. He's totally loving it and he spends most of the set grabbing a hold of me and shouting in my ear in what I guess is an effort to convey his approval. It was fucking great! And then there's always an extra buzz when you have a few old friends dotted about the crowd. It was a sweaty gig but despite the long day, the adrenalin outweighs any tiredness I'd been feeling earlier and it was for me, without doubt, the most fun show of the tour so far.

I pack down immediately after the set, sweat pissing out of me. I dry off as quick as I can and head back out to hang out with the guys. I'm a little gutted when Snitch tells me he has to leave early, and him being my lift to Corby I have to cut short what is a buzzing night. At the same time I know I'll be glad to get back to my parents at an early hour. We leave after the first couple of Black Breath songs. I feel bad about missing the load-out too but Johan assures me it's fine. It always feels strange to leave the guys you're with on tour in the middle of everything, to leave the pack for a night. Feels almost like you're deserting. Jon gave me a big hug before I left and told me he's going to miss me. Silly sod has probably been on the pop. The fucker warms my heart all the same though.

The drive back to Corby is fucking terrifying for the most part. Kimmins and another friend Tom, are in the back, a bit sauced up, demanding Snitch cranks the volume up on the car stereo. They're playing some bluegrass band doing Guns n' Roses covers. The version of Mr Brownstone is actually fucking awesome to be fair though.. Anyway, I'm sat up front with Snitch who is driving fast as fuck along the dark country roads that lead the back way to Corby. I enquire a couple of times as to why he's driving so fast to which he replies he's only doing the speed limit. Not sure that doing eighty on a sixty road qualifies as keeping to the speed limit but what the fuck do I know? I love the cunt but he scares the fuck out of me when I'm sat beside him in a car and he's the one behind the wheel.

I get back to my parents house, the house I still call home even though I haven't lived there for eleven years, around midnight. Glad to be home and relieved to be alive. Even though it's late, when I walk through the door my dad appears in the dark at the top of the stairs wearing nothing but his kecks. He comes down to join for a late night cup of tea and a chat.

It's good to be home, even if only for a few hours.   

Kortrijk

It's amazing how little sleep you can survive on whilst on tour. Anything over four hours is just about enough to get by on. It's not like you burn much fuel sitting on your arse all day.. The breakfast wasn't free this morning so I decided to forget it and treat myself to another hour in bed. Of course Andy told me when he came back up to the room that they were serving fresh scones and tea but the bastard was just trying to wind me up.

We met down in the reception around ten thirty. The Black Breath guys looked pretty wasted. Apparently they'd got to bed a couple of hours ago. Eric told me, actually he demonstrated, how Elijah was dancing at the bar last night. Seeing that would have almost been worth sacrificing sleep for.

Those poor dogs were still in the Jeep this morning. Almost broke my heart. God knows how long they've been there. I regret not reporting the cunt who owned them to the police. What the fuck is wrong with people? We should have complained to the hotel receptionist...I feel shit that we didn't.

When we arrived back at last night's venue there was a break dancing competition going on. Loads of kids running about the place. It's was a little chaotic loading out. This big friendly security guy seemed to take an interest in us and was intent on conversation. “You guys from Sweden right?”

“Yes that's correct sir.”

“Snus!”

Hmm..Well yes we do have snus in Sweden. Thinking of that reminds me of another conversation I overheard last night. Classic Jon. Some Belgian crust punk kid came up to him by the merch stall wanting answers.

“Why do you not have dreadlock?”

“I fucking hate dreadlocks!”

“I am dreadlock..”

“Yes.” Conversation over.

I ended up eating a cone of chips for breakfast this morning and regretted it immediately. Cue the Swedes delight in my Britishness. The drive today was even shorter than the last, barely clocking in at an hour. I could get used to this.

The venue today was something else. I've been to a few places like this in the low countries, it seems to be quite a standard on the club circuit here. The place was brand spanking new, clean and clinical, the people running the place very professional. The treatment you get at these places is off the hook and whilst it's really appreciated I can't help but wonder what these guys know about putting on a punk show. I think these places are state funded. They must be.

The stage in the venue was half the size of the hall sized room it was situated in. I guess this place holds around five hundred people, but the people running the place told me they can minimize the place by drawing these big black curtains across the width of the room. I guess we'll be doing that tonight.

I've never been to Kortrijk before, but from the view from the dressing room window, it seems like a cosy little town. I quite fancied going for a wander but for some reason just didn't have the energy. The venue had a roof terrace which provided me with fresh air when I needed it. Did not do much today, a typical day on tour really. Jon, who has brought with him his ridiculously heavy bowling bag with not one but two fucking bowling balls in it, went off on his own to “rulla” as he always says. Really weird seen occurred. We clocked him from the window of the dressing room, hobbling down the street in his usual old man posture with a film crew following him. Fucking bizarre! He told me later that they actually went with him and filmed him playing a match against some other dude. Apparently the film crew belongs to the venue and they're filming not only the set of each band, they're also recording a day in the life of a band on tour. I had wondered what the fuck was going on earlier when a cameraman had turned up in the dressing room and stood there filming us doing...nothing..

Dinner was a bit of a trip today. Some guy from the venue, apparently very serious about his cooking, set up a stove at the end of the long table that stood in the centre of the dressing room, and spent about two hours making our dinner. The food was unbelievable too! Artichoke soup to start followed by a mushroom risotto. I wonder what the chances of being provided with such culinary delights are in the UK? Slim to fuck all I guess. Although the show in Nottingham tomorrow is a real punk DIY set-up, so we should be ok there at least.

The show tonight was pretty much as I expected. There were about eighty people in the venue, and with the curtains indeed halving the room it looked half decent. It is a shame to think though, that as luxurious as the hospitality is at these places, if this same crowd was in a small DIY space somewhere, the show would have been insane. Some guy after the show told me about a venue called the Pits which is small DIY space in town. We'll have to play there next time we go out on our own. Although I'll be coming here for dinner!

Claes is having a bad time at the moment. Tonight he didn't even make it through the third song. I was out front watching them and noticed he was having a hard time of it, started shaking his hands and looking really shaky. Feel so bad for him. He soon disappeared. By the time I got to the back stage area Elijah was already taking care of him. I hope we can get this sorted, terrible to see him like this. Thankfully he was better a short while later but he looked bad for a while there. Tormented played the rest of their set as three piece. Had to crack up when Drette tried to explain to the crowd that Claes was ok, he was just having some problems with a medical condition. He couldn't find the words in English though and it came out as, “Just to let you know our guitar player Claes is ok, he's just.....a bit tired.” Haha, fuck knows what the crowd made of that.

Our show was pretty good. Got a good reaction from the crowd. By the time This is the End came round the pit started kicking off. I had a bit of hard time of things again though, felt like I played pretty sloppy at points. Tour auto-pilot hasn't quite honed in yet. I'm struggling a bit with my guitar sound on stage, it seems to be really toppy. I'm going to try my Tele tomorrow. Jon was nervous as fuck during the show, so he told me afterwards. He'd heard they were recording the gig and it freaked him out a bit. He'd completely missed our conversation the night before about shortening the set by replacing Nowhere in Time with We're Fucked. He thought we were playing both and ended up playing Nowhere for about half of the next song, Circles. Tit.

The fact we played We're Fucked actually ending up making us some extra money since after the show some guy who had never heard us before really loved the “Fucked Song” and duly wanted the album with that song on it. Good work We're Fucked! Black Breath were great as usual. Tight as a duck's arse, those boys can fucking play. I pissed myself when stood side stage I happened to catch a glimpse of Jon in the nosh pit wind-milling HC style. He was pissed up and pretty chuffed, looking like a hardcore Willy Nelson.

After the show we loaded out on the promoters promise that it was safe to leave the gear in the van overnight. The hotel we were staying at was only a couple of minutes walk away. I had no idea what to expect but in accordance with how the rest of the day had been, we were put up in a four star hotel. Couldn't believe it. Now this we definitely won't be getting in the UK!

Upon check in were told that those of us sleeping on the first floor must be quiet since there were athletes sleeping in the rooms there, and they needed their rest. This seemed like a very odd situation and being half pissed, thought it was really funny.

We were what you might say, out of place at this joint. I was feeling a little bit tipsy by this point, as was Andy I think, and the two of us dumped our bags in the room we were sharing with Mark from BB who is straight edge, bade Mark goodnight and headed back down to the bar in the hotel's restaurant. On the way back down the corridor to the elevator, Johan appears at the door of his room and hisses, “Shush! Athletes!”. We all piss ourselves laughing.

The Tormented guys and Jon were at the bar waiting for us, as was Eric. We stood around waiting to be served, seemingly much to the annoyance of a rather snobby looking crowd of old cunts who were sat down to what looked like a dinner party, although there were seemingly no staff on serving them. It was only us and them in the place, but by the tone of their words, whatever they were saying, they didn't seem to chuffed to have our company. Eventually the night desk attendant, who was a timid looking, pimply teenager, came to our aid. He asked us if we would not rather sit in the other bar, obviously at the wish of the old cunts in the restaurant. I was pretty scoobied but was happy enough to sit anywhere as long as I could get a drink. It wasn't as if we were being loud in any way..I guess the old fuckers just didn't like the cut of our jib.

Anyway, the kid opens up another bar on the other side of the reception, just for us. Fucking magic! Couldn't quite believe it. The poor kid had no idea really, he explained as much to us, saying he's never worked behind the bar before. We order a beer each which he copes with well enough, but then I spot the rather stunning selection of single malts behind the bar and order a Laguvulin 16 year. This throws him. He literally throws about fifteen centilitres of the stuff into a large cognac glass! He tells me he has to check with his boss what it costs and gets on the phone. “Oops, it seems like this whiskey is really expensive. It's eleven Euros.” I almost bite the poor fuckers hand off! Considering the fact I've got about half the fucking bottle in my glass, I'd say that's pretty cheap. I park my arse on the sofa beside Drette, more than chuffed.

The Kid asks us if we want anything else, to which we tell him we're good for now thanks. He tells us if there's anything else we need just to come get him and he heads back to the reception. Andy immediately leans over the bar and goes to re-fill his glass, but somebody spots a camera in the corner so he refrains. Andy goes off in search of the young kid again..

We stay up chatting and drinking until around three am by which time I've actually mellowed out. I don't feel too drunk by the time I've had a shower and crawled into bed. Tomorrow we have an earlier start since we have to get the ferry from Calais to Nottingham. I sure as fuck don't want to miss the free breakfast at this hotel either.

Looking forward to tomorrow. My mates Snitch and Kimmins are coming up from Corby and then I'm heading back in the car with them to stay at my parents' place for the night. Can't play Nottingham and not visit my parents. The bed in my old room is still the cosiest I've ever slept in and I'm not passing up a chance to spend a night in it. And it's always great to see my parents, even if only to catch breakfast with them.

Antwerp

I only slept for about five hours, but felt pretty good anyway. I wasn't that drunk when my head finally hit the pillow. I lay in bed for a second and considered just sleeping through breakfast, but decided it would be a bad idea to miss a free hotel breakfast. Passing up free food on tour is a big no no.

The breakfast was pretty good too. Your typical continental fare but appreciated all the same. Most of the guys in the three bands had made it down. Only Jon and Drette were missing which kinda made sense, since they were both pretty boats last night.

I got another hour's rest after breakfast, followed by a pretty rubbish shower before we all gathered down in the reception to check out. Drette and Jon have now appeared, both grinning through their hangovers. Jon had apparently ended walking around the hostel looking for his room for about half an hour after he'd disappeared last night. Drette had ended up in another room all together! In his drunken haze he'd simply found an open door in one of the corridors and walked through it. He'd found his way back to his room eventually but he's not quite sure how..

We drove back to the venue, (ten minute drive my ass! Promoters always tell you ten minutes..) and loaded the van, before grabbing a quick cup of coffee with the promoter. The drive was really quick and for once we pulled up outside the venue a couple of hours early. I wish every drive was like this..unfortunately we have far worse coming up.

We're playing a show with Napalm Death tonight which should be a lot of fun. Haven't seen those guys for a while. Last time I saw Barney was in New York a couple of years ago when he came to a show. I got to know him from the Speedhorn days during a period when he lived in Kettering. Absolute gentleman. The venue was big, bigger than anything else we'll be playing on this tour otherwise. I guess the capacity is around six hundred or so. In typical European style, the place is clinically clean and efficient.

We decided we'd take advantage of the free time and take a walk around the city for a while. I'm sure I've been to Antwerp before although the memory is a bit blurred. I'm sure I remember sitting outside a bar in a square by a river and the sun was shining. It was pretty grey out today but it was still nice with the walk. Pretty much all of the guys in the bands came along. Elijah had pinball withdrawals so he was in search of a fix somewhere and he soon disappeared. A few others stopped in an Irish pub for an afternoon pint. Not really what I'd hoped for, but there wasn't much else on offer. We'd walked about an hour through a pretty rough area, following the tram lines, and then suddenly arrived at the main Central Station. The station itself was really grand, looked more like a castle than a train station.

We arrived back at the venue around five pm and after loading in just hung out in the large communal dressing room, snacking on crisps and pop. It was good to see Barney again. We hung for a while, catching up on things back home and what's been going on with the bands. It's always good to see him. I couldn't help but notice how many of the posters on the walls of this dressing room, advertising other shows coming up at the venue, were these “so and so plays this record” type events. One that caught my eye in particular was Helmet playing Meantime. Although it's actually Page Hamilton with a bunch of other guys I've never seen. Fucking sad really, I loved that band when I was a kid. Even more amazing than that though was that Andrew W.K. was at it as well, although fuck knows what record he's self honouring himself with! Jesus..

As well as the three bands on our tour and obviously Napalm, there is another band on the bill tonight. I'm not really sure who they are but apparently they're called Kadaverik. The details are a little bit hazy but apparently they're going to be doing a few shows with ND. Anyway, we're sitting around in the backstage room shooting the breeze when this young long, blond haired metal kid turns up and asks after a drummer. Jamie introduces himself politely as he always does..Metal Kid, who I can't really tell is either shy or just very serious, then asks Jamie when he's setting the drum kit up, since they're playing it tonight and they are a bit stressed for time since the doors are opening soon and they're practically on as soon as doors open. This obviously leads to a great deal of confusion since nobody has mentioned this to us. Unfortunately this kind of crap happens all the time. Metal Kid quickly realises the deal and humbly apologies to us, feeling bad that nobody has taken the courtesy of telling us we're lending our gear out. They had thought they were going to be using Napalm's kit but had only just found out they're not.. I guess they haven't played many shows... What are we going to say? Fuck off? I guess some people would but we just grumble under our breath and go help them set up our kit.

It just gets better though. They soon tell us that they require five cymbal stands for the kit. Five? Er, what the fuck do think we're doing with five cymbals? I think Andy has like two.. They just look at us blankly, not understanding anything. We get them set up, even lending out our cabs and cables, although they have actually brought their own amps which is nice of them. The best crack is, Elijah happens to find a copy of Kadavrik's rider which is lying around in the dressing room and it's absolutely insane! It's three sides of A4! These kids are ridiculous!

On the rider, besides all the usual diet requirements, it states amongst other things that they must have five crew on stage whilst they play, and that they require such and such amount of space paying mind to the fact that they have a keyboard. Who the fuck are these kids? These poor bastards will have to learn quick. I almost felt sorry for them in the end.

There were a lot of people in the place by the time Tormented took to the stage. I spent most of the time at the back by our merch table and watched them from there. They seemed to have a really good show but worryingly once again Claes seemed to have some weird turn and was forced to leave the stage with a couple of songs to go. Drette ended up going to the hospital with him and someone else from the venue. He was back later on but it seems like he's having some strange nerve/stress induced attacks. Feel really bad for him but I think he'll be ok. He's been giving some pills to take which should sort him out, although he can't drink or drive whilst taking them. Jon, our very own chemist, has since been giving him an encyclopedic run down on the medication he's on, which I guess is his own little way of making Claes feel better about things.

Our show was pretty good. The stage was pretty fucking big but it sounded good. We had a shorter set tonight due to the fact there were five bands on the bill, something I never have a problem with. Twenty five minutes is a perfect amount of time for a punk show. The crowd were into to. Pretty cool playing with Napalm since they have fans pretty much across the board and certainly no shortage of punks. Would be a fun tour to do I think, something me and Barney talked about earlier which would be great if it came to fruition some day.

After we played I hung out at the merch table and drank a couple of beers whilst keeping an ear on Black Breath's set. It seemed like it was going well for them too. Our friends in Reproach were at the show, always great to see them. Stijn told me they're hooking up a Japan tour with Crucial Unit. So jealous! That will be an amazing tour.

I noticed the Kadavrik guys sitting down at the end of the long merch table, looking sad. They were selling their merch at a higher price than everyone else, although selling is probably not the term to use since Jocke said he hasn't seen anyone all night buy anything from them all night. They'd even gone to the trouble of buying miniature wooden stands, the kind you would put a little painting canvas on in a parallel mini universe, to advertise their cd's.. Poor bastards..

There was this amazing metal guy at the venue tonight. He looked like a mini Danzig and walked around the whole night with his top off. Not like he was sweating or in the mosh pit or anything, he was just walking around bare chested all night. On one arm he had a list of tattoos. And I mean a list. At the top was the Slayer logo, underneath that Obituary and underneath that Entombed. They were pretty shabby tats as well Topping that he had another Slayer logo tattooed across his back from should blade to shoulder blade. Brilliant.

It was a lot of fun watching the Napalm set. It's been a while since I saw them play, think last time was at Debaser a few years ago when I was working in the bar. Barney is a great front man and it's always entertaining listening to him talk between songs in his Brum accent. “This song goes out to Victims, Black Breath and Tormented. Lovely stuff!”.

It's a lot of fun hanging out at the merch tonight. There is a half decent distro at the show too, I think it's the guys from Reflections. I'm close to buying a Government Warning lp but my wallet is way back in the dressing room and I can't be arsed going to get it. There will be further opportunities I'm sure. Our merch tables are set up on a long podium which is about a foot in height I guess. At one point Robban Tormented crouches beside me whilst I'm stood by our table, and pretends he's a dwarf with the goal of freaking Jon out. Jon is afraid of little people..

After the show we pack down and load the gear into a back room ready to be picked up tomorrow. We're staying at another roadside motel way out of town again. Eric and the Black Breath guys have some friends who have travelled from Germany and feel obliged to hang out in town with them. Eric asks me if I want to come and for a moment I consider it but reconsider when I see it's already getting on to two am. By the time we've sorted to hostel out it's going to be at least three and I can't be arsed with that.

I'm greatly disturbed when we get back to the hostel, which is in the standard industrial milieu, to find a Jeep parked in the car park with two beautiful German Shepard’s, confused and barking and left there presumably for the night by some fucking retard staying at the hostel. What is wrong with people really. There are a gaggle of drunk east European old timers sat at some tables outside the hostel, sharing what looks like a bottle of moonshine and making a lot of noise. Weird scene. I hope those dogs aren't going to be there all night...

We get the standard nonsense upon check in. Apparently only three of the five rooms are paid for in advance by the promoter. After some fucking around though, and to be fair the guy in the reception is cool enough to ring the promoter for us, everything gets sorted out and we head up to the rooms. The Black Breath guys are being driven back into town by Peter, we're all going to bed though. I go back downstairs to see if there is any chance of a night cap, but find only Drette and Robban sitting outside having a cig next to the old drunks. They've obviously brought their own booze because there is no sign of a bar or even a vending machine selling beer.

Elijah seems like he's in the mood to stay at the hotel, dropping hints now and again that he could deal with just hanging out at the hostel. He reasons with himself though that if he gets a couple of shots in him at the bar he'll wake up. They head off. Fuck knows what they're going to find open at this time. I head upstairs with Drette and Robban who are kipping in the room besides Andy, Peter and myself.

As we approach our rooms a very drunk, beer bellied Englishman appears from one of the other rooms holding a phone and wearing nothing but a large pair of green boxer shorts. He's completely fucked up. He seems to be locked out of his room, and although appearing to talk into phone is actually trying to converse with us. I can barely make out what he's saying since he's barely dribbling out words, but he seems to be asking if we have booze and something else about being lost. Fucking amazing. I'm pissing myself laughing as I walk into the room. Robban and Drette look chuffed.

Looking forward to a good night's sleep. After a long disco shower, which is possibly the best shower I've ever had, the shower head has a lamp in it and a revolving display of colours as I wash my balls, I crawl into bed beside Andy and lie watching the BBC World News Service. It seems like it's getting pretty fucking tense between Iran and the west...Scary shit.

Peter comes back about an hour later having dropped the American off in town. I'm glad I chose the bed option tonight, I guess those guys won't be getting much sleep tonight..

Rotterdam

Even though I slept almost eight hours in a more than adequate bed, I felt knackered when I woke up this morning. I guess that fourteen hour journey yesterday took more out of me than I thought it had. Sitting in a van doing nothing for hours on end is actually pretty tiring.

Once showered and dressed, I was back on track though. Once in the van we discussed our breakfast options. We'd noticed a supermarket not far from the hotel last night and decided on buying some bread and cheese from there. A Burger King breakfast is not something I'm feeling this morning. Unfortunately the supermarket turned out to be a food warehouse, the kind you need to have a business card for, something the old lady at the entrance counter gladly explained to us. I understand only a little German, but I could she was chuffed.

We decided to just get going and look for breakfast on the road somewhere. We still had to go by Punk Distro and pick up our merch for the tour. It was good to see Micha and Nico who were as happy as ever. I'd forgotten what a wonderful laugh Nico has. Just hearing it shook off the last cobwebs of sleep and put me in the mood for the day ahead. What we hadn't really counted on though was how many boxes of merch would be waiting for us. By the time we were done repacking the van, for the third time in two days, the back of the van was crammed, with barely a slither of air to spare. Tomorrow we'll split the gear up between this van and Black Breath's though, since all three bands are using the same gear. Things will be a lot easier then.

As always when at Punk Distro, I was forced to have a peek at the vinyl shelves. I picked up a pile of lp's that landed at seventy Euros. Expensive first day. I found the re-press of the Hellbastard classic Rippercrust though so I was more than chuffed.

The drive to Rotterdam from Hannover took around five hours, and was for the most part uneventful. We spent most of the ride, once again, laughing at the Tormented banter. They're an entertaining bunch of chaps. Makes things so much easier considering we're crammed in this van with them for the next three weeks. I can't imagine how painful sharing a van with another band that you had no click with. Thankfully that's not the case here. The only real incident during the trip was when we nearly slammed into the back of a car in front that braked suddenly. We'd just overtaken a lorry and as Johan hit the breaks, the weight in the back of the van was too much for the momentum. Luckily it was Johan at the wheel. He realised that we weren't going to stop in time and after a lightning quick glance in the mirror, swerved us back into right lane, clear of the lorry we'd just overtaken. Barely anyone else in the van noticed, only myself and Claes. My balls were ever so briefly in my throat though.

We pulled up outside the venue about an hour after the informed load in time, but the promoter seemed cool with us. He understood that we'd had a long journey. It was great to see the Black Breath guys again. They haven't changed a bit, still the same happy, easy going guys. It's been too long. They do have a new guitarist though, since my old friend Zack has quit the band and went back to law school. The new guy, Mark, seems to be cool though. He used to play in the band Go It Alone with Eric and has been friends with the other guys for years.

The club was a pretty standard, square shaped block beside a main road a little way out of down town. Good size stage and the place probably holds around two hundred. When Black Breath sound check the volume out of the PA almost pins me against the back wall!

The show tonight goes pretty well. I watched most of the Tormented set and they sounded really good. Towards the end of their show I go take over from Johan at our merch table. We have got a serious amount of merch on this tour! Whilst I'm stood there in the adjoining room where the merch is set up, I completely miss the fact that Claes has walked off the stage before their set is finished. I hear Drette laughing and telling the crowd that they'll play their last two songs as a three piece. Jon comes in a short while later and says Claes is in a pretty bad way.

When I go backstage to sort my stuff out before we line check, Claes is sat in nothing but his kecks, with a towel draped over him, shaking like a leaf. He looks like shit, pale as a ghost! I feel bad for him. He's pretty confused and doesn't really understand what's going on. I guess it's a mix of tiredness, stress of playing the first show, been only given five minutes after their line check to get on stage and play, and maybe a touch of hydration. I hope he feels better soon.

Our show goes ok. For a first show. The stage is pretty wide and I don't hear anything but myself for pretty much the entire set, which makes it pretty hard going, but I get through it. It's hot on stage and it's not the tightest set we've ever played, but as far as “first shows” goes it ok. Jon tells me afterwards that he puked during Svart År.. I must have missed that.

It's great seeing Black Breath play again. They really are a tight as fuck live band. Eric is an incredible guitar player. Me and Jon stand on his side of the stage and watch him and are getting pretty psyched as we stand there with a couple of beers. At one point Eric is in the middle of this ripping solo, making it look ridiculously easy, me and Jon just look at each other with our beers, acknowledging the fact that we'll never be that good, despite the fact Eric is quite a few years our younger, and Jon flips him off.

The Black Breath set rips, and by the time they're done, I'm getting a little tipsy, even though I've only drunk four small cans of lager. We hang out at the venue in the bar room where the merch is, for an hour or so after the show. We decide to move on to some of the real beers they have behind the bar. Johan tries a weissbeer which clocks in at ten percent, and by the time he's done with it he's looking pretty saucy. Johan, Claes, who is now looking a bit perkier, myself and Jon try out a few different beers and steadily get cosily pissed up. The hostel we're staying at is about a ten minute drive away, but we can leave all the gear in the club and the lot of us can bum a lift in the Black Breath van, who have a driver with them, so it's all good.

It seems to be a usual deal in this part of Europe, but they don't accept cash in the bar. Instead they have these change machines on the wall where you put your money in a get plastic beer tokens out. Jocke, not really understand this concept, and at one point, whilst kindly helping out at our merch table, finds himself stuck for change. A confused punter gives him a twenty Euro note and Jocke, not having any change to give him, goes to the change machine beside the table and puts the twenty in it, telling the punter he'll be back with his change in a minute. The look of confusion on as his face as twenty Euros worth of red, plastic beer tokens shoot out is absolutely priceless. The punter is not impressed.

By the time we have to vacate the club, we're all pretty pissed. We pack into Black Breath's van, four or five of us on the floor in the back, and take the “ten minute” twenty minute drive to the hostel. Peter, Black Breath's driver has been given the address and we follow the GPS. We pull out of the van and find ourselves in the down town area of Rotterdam. We're parked up beside a picturesque little harbour with some old wooden boats moored up along the quay. We stand there admiring it for a few minutes before we realise we have no idea where the hostel is. We walk around pissed, everyone off in different directions looking for this place, until finally someone shouts that they've found it. We all slump off in the direction of the voice. It's now one thirty am.

The hostel is this really weirdly shaped building that looks like something from a David Lynch dream or something. We walk in to the reception area and into a weird scene. We're stood there for ages with no sign of anyone who works at the hotel. There are though about fifty young, drunk kids running around the place shouting. We do not know what the fuck is going on. Some older guy appears at some point and tells us that there is a night manager around, but he doesn't know where. We decide to explore the place ourselves. There is an unattended bar opposite the reception desk so we help ourselves to a couple of beers. After about twenty minutes the night manager finally appears, carrying a bottle of Bailey's. We all crack up but he hurriedly assures us he has indeed confiscated it from one of the kids upstairs. I guess it's some kind of school trip or something.

The night manager is actually a good crack and he informs us where we can smoke weed without drawing attention of the neighbours, should we so wish to do so. Elijah, the Black Breath bass player, is delighted by this. We finally sort our room keys and head upstairs to dump our bags. The corridors are crawling with teenage school kids who are shouting and screaming, completely fucked up on booze. Weird scene. It seems the word has spread that there is a band staying and some of the young girls seem to have taken an interest and try engaging us in drunk conversation. We smile politely and carry on walking, but then an older, very pissed off looking lady, obviously a supervisor, appears and pulls them away.

When we find our room, the door beside ours opens and we're faced with yet more drunk teenagers, this time boys. “Hey dude!” one of them says to a very drunk, confused Andy. “Are you in Red Hot Chili Peppers?”.

We dump the bags and head back down to the bar, which the night manager guy has now happily opened up for us. We sit around chatting over a couple of beers with the mayhem of the screaming kids droning in the background somewhere. Weird scene. The night manager clocks the beer Elijah has stolen from the bar, but seems to think that Elijah has brought it with him. Night Manager seems chuffed that Elijah has discovered the great local beer and commends him at length on his choice of beverage. When he leaves Elijah feels really guilty and leaves to go offer the guy a drag on his joint, in an attempt to even out his karma.

Elijah is soon back with us and soon he and Robban are fully engaged in a conversation about pinball. Elijah is some sort of pinball wizard guy, and unknown to us, Robban is also an enthusiast. The rest of us sit around in awe of the deep level of conversation they're taking this subject too. I mean, they're not just talking games. They're talking tactics, manufactures, pro-players and rankings. Every now and again Jocke, who is sat beside me, asks me what the fucking is going on here. After about a half hour of this, just as the conversation is reaching a climax, Elijah in a moment of excitement lifts his palm in the air in the hope of a high five from Robban. To our amazement, Robban holds back with a look of doubt on his face and then pulls away. “No man, don't know ya!” We all piss ourselves laughing. I thought they were about to get into bed together, but apparently a high five is too far a step for Robban at this early stage of their relationship! Elijah, sits there shaking his head, “Nah man, he's right..” looking really gutted. This just adds to the madness of the situation.

After a while we head out to the veranda where Neil and Jamie from Black Breath, along with Claes and Drette are enjoying a bottle of Jim Beam. We join them enjoying some fresh air and a few sips from the bottle. I'm feeling more tired than drunk now and I'm starting to think about bed. As I'm making to leave a middle aged man turns up, another one of these supervisor people.

He's here under the guise of smoking a cigarette, but it's soon pretty clear why he's out here. He starts talking to Elijah. “Ha, you look like Jesus!” whilst feeling his hair. Elijah has a lot of hair... He then starts explaining the situation with the kids. We're not even really interested to be fair but the guy keeps on. He tells Elijah that he gets the whole thing with us being in a band on tour and all, but we have to keep our hands off of the young, drunk girls under their supervision. The fact they're all steam boats suggests to me that we should be questioning them really, but never mind. Elijah is a little taken aback by this. “No dude, that's not even on the agenda. I mean, we're talking about children here.” “I know I know, but I'm telling you” Supervisor continues, “But I'm telling you, don't touch them.” Elijah is completely thrown by this, and I'm starting to feel pissed off. To our utter, utter amazement, Supervisor then says, “Listen, tonight we're looking after these kids, so we can't let you mess around with them. But tomorrow we're off and they're nothing to do with us then, so tomorrow you can do what you want.” What the fuck is this?! He then slinks off back in the to hotel. Fucking stunning turn of events to this day.

It's almost four am by the time I make my way to bed. Johan follows my lead. Jon disappeared a while ago, but the Black Breath guys, Drette and Claes are all still enjoying the Jim Beam and the fresh morning air on the veranda...

On The Road Again...

Five am. I hate five am.

Even though spring has officially arrived in Stockholm and the days are starting to pull out, when the alarm on my phone went off this morning it was still pitch black outside. Five am..

I had at least managed to sleep for around five hours. And with today's journey ahead, there would be ample time to catch a few more winks. I left home with my unreasonabally heavy bag, I've never mastered the art of travelling light on tour, and headed down to the station at Sundbyberg. I'd planned to meet Jon at the back end of the train. We're meeting Andy and Johan with the van at Årstaberg.

I've been looking forward to this tour for a while. Work has been pretty stressful recently and all I've been thinking about is getting away and relishing not having to answer my phone for a while, just getting away with the guys and playing a bunch of shows, drinking some beer and hooking up with a load of friends. Although, this morning, that feeling, at least for a short while, had completely distinguished. Jenny has just came back from the States, and now I'm leaving. Bad timing.

As soon as I sat in the van though, things started to feel better again. Back on tour... Fourteen years of doing this and it's still a great feeling.

Today would prove to be pretty uneventful, which is exactly what we required since all we had on the agenda was a long journey... The first show is tomorrow night in Rotterdam. For once we're getting the longest journey of the tour over with at the very beginning. We've printed our merchandise at a company in Hamburg and we've had it shipped to our friend Micha's record distro in Hannover, where we also have some gear that we left at the end of the last European tour. The journey down to Hannover took about fourteen hours, with a few stops along the way, the compulsory lunch at Max in Jönköping, the bridge from Malmö to Copenhagen and the boat from Rödby to Puttgarden in northern Germany.

First stop was Finspång though, where we picked up our friends Tormented, who are the opening band on the tour and who are also sharing the van with us. We arrived at Rockbageriet, the music venue and studio where the guys rehearse, around eight am. After readjusting the pack of the van, making room for Tormented's gear and merch, we sat down with a cup of coffee for a few minutes.

I met Claes for the first time a few weeks ago, at the release party show we had at Kafé 44, and I met Drette, the singer, a long, long time ago, when I first moved here, although he didn't really recognise me. The other two guys, Robban and Jocke, I'd never met before but they seem like good guys. I took an instant shine to Jocke, the Tormented drummer. As we were sat drinking coffee and having a chat, Jocke sat engrossed in a game on his iPhone. Robban asked him what he was playing. “Snake” Jocke said without breaking his gaze. We all cracked up laughing.

The journey down to Hannover, as said, was uneventful, apart from some pretty rough wind just the other side of Jönköping, and even though in total it took fourteen hours, it didn't feel that long. The guys in Tormented are a funny lot, and there was plenty of laughter during the hours on the road. I have the feeling this is going to be a fun tour. I'm looking forward to seeing the Black Breath guys tomorrow too, haven't seen Eric since he came in to the studio and played some guitar on our last record.

We decided we'd book into a cheap Formule 1 hotel for the night. We had been speaking to Micha about the possibility of staying with him, but since we'd have to split ourselves up between his place and Nico, another friend who works at Punk Distro, we decided it would be less hassle just to pay for the cheap hotel. After a long day it would be nice just to park the van up and get into a bed. The rooms only cost twenty nine Euros a night, and we can easily sneak a couple of us in and share some beds, making it even less costly. I felt a little guilty though when we mailed Micha after we'd booked the rooms online, and he got back to us saying he'd sorted out beds and some food for us upon arrival...

We made a final stop a couple of hours outside of Hannover, in the vain hope of looking for some sort of real dinner and if nothing else, the chance to take a piss. After already eating a Max veggie burger for lunch, a packet of crisps and a yoghurt for tea, I was hoping for something else than McDonalds. We decided to just leave it, even though they actually did have a veggie burger on the menu. The Tormented guys were straight in there though. We stood around outside and waited for then, enjoying the fresh air and the chance to stretch our legs. Eight pm, and the sun was only just going down and it was still pretty warm out. Considering we've been on the road since six am, I felt pretty awake.

We got back in the van for the final leg, Johan taking the wheel back from Claes (the two pappa's in the band have assumed main driving duties on this tour, an arrangement I'm more than happy with). It was soon dark and I felt asleep to the hypnotic mangle of Mayhem's De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas album. It's funny, I must have only slept for about twenty minutes but awoke feeling as groggy as if I'd slept the whole night. As I stirred and gathered my bearings, Jon shunts a small bottle of Jagermesiter my way. No thanks mate, I'm good. Jocke, sat behind me, happily takes a sip though. I put Neurosis' Enemy of the Sun and close my eyes again, the smell of Jagermesiter and snus humming from Jon in the seat beside me..

It was just before ten pm when we arrived at the hotel. I was hoping we'd be able to find something representing an actual meal, but it was not to be. These cheap hotel's are always on the outskirts of the city and this place was no different, being located in some industrial estate beside a dual carriageway. The only options were Burger King and a petrol station. Johan and I resignedly walked into Burger King and placed an order, only to be told the card machines weren't working and they could only accept cash, and cash we didn't have. I was almost relieved.

We walked back over the road to the petrol station where the rest of the guys were and picked up a sandwich and a couple of cans of beer. The picture of the sandwich on the menu on the wall behind the counter promised Camembert and lingonberry, in reality it was fart-warm Brie and jam. The two cans of Budvar were exactly as advertised though, cold and smooth on the taste buds. Exactly what the doctor ordered.

We finished the night off with the beers and some packets of crisps, hanging out in the room Claes and Drette were sleeping in. A perfectly relaxing way of ending a long day on the road. Tomorrow we're picking up the remaining gear at Punk Distro before making the rest of the journey to the first show in Rotterdam. Only about four hours. No problem. I really need to get a proper meal in me at some point soon though, hope we can find somewhere decent for breakfast tomorrow.

Through The Past Darkly - Part II

Jan 30/03 – Belfast

We didn't sink anyway! I slept through pretty much although I did wake up briefly and it seemed a bit rough. Belfast? I never know what to make of it. First thing I did was get breakfast, which was ok, nothing special. Then I went and bought the new Isis album since Olly went on about it so much. It's great!

We got the same old shit we always get over here. The promoter is lame. Fucking us around. He's doing the next 3 shows. Things better improve with that cunt! Our fucking agent too! Arsehole! All these people are arseholes. They come from a different planet than me. I ain't hanging around these wankers my whole life..

The gig was pretty cool anyway. We played good, and the crowd was good. Couldn't find anywhere to eat after the gig. Capital city of Northern Ireland and you can't eat after 11. It's like a ghost town. Belfast is a strange place.

Just as we were leaving, 5 kids, out of their minds on glue, started shit. Useless situation. You need a bat for that situation. We all got off the bus and told them to fuck off and then we left with them trying to smash the windows. Good riddance to this place. Dublin tomorrow, we'll see what that holds? Can't wait to get back to Swansea personally, at least I can get a bath at Ben's house. 12 days until I meet Jenny. Can't wait!

Jan 31/03 – Dublin

More bullshit today! We turn up at the venue, an old converted church, and we're dirty and hungry. We get a shower, well a few of us, and then some twat starts going crazy at Daz because apparently he wasn't informed we're in there. Bullshit is the word. The promoter is nowhere in sight..again! He really is a fucking wanker!

The venue is absolute huge and there are no posters anywhere around town. Some kid came up to Frank earlier for an autograph and he didn't even know we were playing tonight! The guy who runs the venue is being a right twat. Can't wait to get the fuck out of Ireland!

I heard Olly and the J.T. Boys just got home, they first broke down and then got stuck in a 14 hr. traffic jam because it's snowing in England. What a joke! A bit of snow and the country freaks out and comes to a standstill. Take me back to Sweden where it's normal! Please!!!

Feb 1/03 – Waterford

The gig last night was really good apparently. I say apparently because everyone else was buzzing about it. I felt really shitty. I've got this cold and it's hard to get into it when you feel like shit. There were a lot of people there though. I feel wore today! I got myself some Lemsip so I hope that works.

There isn't much to Waterford. It's a nice enough little Irish town but there isn't much here. It took me about 15 mins to walk around the whole place! The venue is massive as well. I didn't know we were that big in Waterford!

Watched Live at Pompeii by Pink Floyd last night on the bus, gave me some inspiration for the band I'm getting together with Olly and Paul. Been listening to the Isis album again, amazing record. Just waiting for a shower now, apparently you have to let it warm up for 10 mins between every shower taken. I'm behind Frank in line. I'll get back to the Vivian Stanshall biography while I wait.. Jen might call soon, always cheers me up when I hear her voice.

Feb 2/03 – Limerick

One more Irish gig to go. Last night was okay, another huge venue which was about half full. I really don't know why we were playing there. I guess there aren't any other venues around there. The kids that were there were really great anyway, really enthusiastic. I think they're pretty starved of entertainment around these parts. After the show last night we went to a real local pub, I don't think we went down to well in there. I only the one then went to bed. Still full of a cold.

Today's been pretty boring. Got a shower at last though. Feels good to be clean again, if only for a short time. Jen told me she’s spending the day at home, lying on the sofa watching tv. I'm so jealous!! I'd do anything to be there right now. Got to plough on with this shit for now, don't know how much longer though. I'm really not sure if I'm gonna be in this band this time next year. I've really got to the point where just looking at certain people pisses me off. I can't imagine doing this for another 4 or 5 years.

I just had a bit of a stand off with one of the guys for acting like a real prick to some kid who was trying to give away a cd of his band. I hate it when people act lie that. Fuck this! When I'm out of here I'm cutting off all correspondence with these cunts.

I feel like I've been a right moaning bastard recently. I knew I'd feel like this in Ireland though. I can't explain it really. The gigs are usually good and the kids are pretty great but the place just depresses me a bit. Feeling ill doesn't help. I'm looking forward to getting back to the UK tomorrow. Get a proper bath at Ben's house and check out his record collection. Erik's getting in tomorrow. Should be a fun week. He's become one of my closest friends since I moved to Stockholm. From tomorrow things will be cool.

Jen will be with me a week on Tuesday. Can't wait! I hate moaning but I seem to do it a lot these days. I miss home a lot more than I used to, guess that's got something to do with home now being Stockholm and not Corby. No offence mum and dad. Gotta go on stage soon. Shake yourself boy. Swansea tomorrow...

Fen 4/03 – Sunderland

Hungover! Erik turned up last night and we partied hard. Paying for it today! It was cool to finally play Swansea last night. We've got loads of friends there. I got a couple of 7”'s from Ben. The gig was ok. Gordon fucked up something in his arm so he struggled a bit, but he'll be ok.

Limerick gig was great. There were loads of kids stage-diving, which is illegal there. The promoter got on stage and onto the mic, telling the kids to stop diving off the stage. After that they just started diving off the bar and the balcony instead! The promoter was going fucking crazy, it was great! He kept getting on stage and making threats to pull the show, which really wound Gordon up. Gordon got into it with him, “Fuck off you twat, it's supposed to be a fucking hardcore gig!” I fucking loved it! The kids in Ireland are crazy.

Today's been a bit boring. Pretty cold here in Sunderland. Still loads of snow in England. Jen said it's really heavy back home. Hope she still makes it to Germany next week, don't even want to entertain the idea of not seeing her next week. I miss her more than words can say.

Tuesday April 29/03

I'm on the plane home. Just been reading through what I've been writing on the last tour. I really do fucking moan a lot! I have to stop doing that so much. I'm going to LA in a couple of weeks and I was moaning about it because it's over my birthday. That pissed my dad off a bit and that made me feel guilty. I'm living his dreams and doing nothing but moan about it. It's hard being away from home but I should try enjoying it a bit more. I won't be doing this forever and then I'll wake up every day in my own bed.

I didn't end up writing any more on the tour because I was hanging out with Erik and then Jen for the next 2½ weeks and then there was only a week left.

There were ups and downs but we had some great gigs in Germany, Denmark and Holland. Italy was horrible! It was fucking nice to get home at the end of it all though! Right now? I've just been writing with the boys in Northampton for five days. We've got 6 new songs towards the next album. I'm pretty happy with them. I still get pissed off with some people in the band but I can handle that for now. We'll see what happens in LA?

Right now...I'm just looking forward to a couple of weeks at home.

Through The Past Darkly - Part I

I was rooting around the house when I happened upon on an old tattered, black notebook containing some snippets of a Speedhorn tour diary I wrote back in 2003. I hadn't seen this book for years and I barely remembered writing the diaries as I sat there on my living room floor and started to read through them...

For the most part I laughed aloud, mainly at myself and how much I bitched and moaned through the power of the pen onto paper, all from the secluded den that was my bunk on the tour bus. It's really very cringe-worthy stuff, but as embarrassing as it is for me, it offers an interesting view through a window into the past. It's one thing recounting old stories through blurred memories, but this is an eyewitness account from then and there.

It's embarrassing in that I really do come across as the immature twenty-three year old that I thought I never was. At this point I'm about a year and half into my relationship with Jen, who I'm happy to say is now my wife. I'm completely lovesick and at the same time homesick for my then new home in Sweden. On top of that it's written during the period that we're touring the second album and tensions within the band were high, indeed the first line up of the band would start to fall apart a short while later. So there is a lot of bitching about other members in the band, most of which is down to nothing more than tour fatigue and cabin fever.

That first line-up of the band really was an emotionally defunct little family. The entire time Frank and John were in the band together was strained through fist fight after fist fight. Those two equally head-strong characters just couldn't work out how to get along on tour together. Even the rest of us, as close friends as we were, had the odd dust-up now and then. Gordon is to this day, one of my best friends, yet he's the person that I had the most vicious fights and arguments with, rare as they were. In hindsight I realise that it's probably because we were such good friends that we felt we were able to say exactly what we wanted to each other.

The moaning and complaints about various members of the band in these pages are by no way representative of how I feel today, or even, I imagine, how I really felt back then. Constant touring can do funny things to your mind and humour, even somebody as levelled out as my good self...

The things written in these diaries were of course in the heat of the moment and nothing more. If anyone is offended then I apologise in advance. I'm sure I pissed off other members of the band just as much as they did me.

The following pages were scribbled down during the UK leg of a six week European tour. Our good friends Johnny Truant and One Pity were supporting us, although unfortunately they couldn't follow for the mainland section of the tour. This might well have been the final tour we did with the original line up of the band, although I'm not entirely sure.

Also, please excuse the terrible writing...  

Jan 21/03 – Bridgewater

We're in Bridgewater, wherever the hell that is. Funny atmosphere in the club, we got the same PA guys from last night and they reckon we owe them £150 coz Frank put his knee on the monitor last night. Twats. Last night was Plymouth. That was a pretty cool gig.

The guys from Johnny Truant are fast becoming friends. Great band too which is a bonus. We pissed off some girl with pink dreads last night. A few of us took exception to the shit music in the club and pulled a table on to the middle of the dancefloor and sat there drinking. Me, Frank, Daz, Olly and Paul (J.T.). This girl didn't like it too much! Someone left a note on our cases at the end, “Raging Speedhorn ruinined a kool gig by being arogant twats”. Nice. Can't even fucking spell! I'll give that to my dad for his scrap book.

Newport was cool. Hooked up with Ben, he bought me some discs and a top. Good guy. Fuck knows what tonight will be like! We've done 200 tickets so we'll see. That's okay for somewhere we've never been. I got Gorilla by the Bonzo's and an Alex Harvey Band record, the album with Faith Healer on it. Been looking for them.

Jan 22/03 – Cambridge

Just hanging out in the dressing room, been doing nothing but hanging all day except for doing a few photos with some French people a bit earlier. Rock Sound Mag had some competition that some guy gets to come hang out in our dressing room. We're all hungover! I don't know what you're supposed to do with these people, can't do much except stare at the walls. At least the lucky winner gets to taste the reality of touring.

Last night was Bridgewater. It was a cool show. Frank was in the mood for being a cunt, he smashed some kids phone that had made it's way to the stage. Some guy from RCA came down to see us “perform”, he didn't stay around to say hello afterwards. Fuck him! I really couldn't give a shit anyway. That shit scares me. Big contracts...Big Dicks!

Had a good night after the gig. Some kid who was into the band told us we could go back to his dad's pub for a lock-in. Worked out pretty good, we all got pissed as farts. Olly nearly died. We came out of the pub at 3 am. and he walked straight into the path of a truck. I saved his ass. He owes me!

Later: In bed now, missing Jen pretty bad. Tonight was fucked up. First off, the gig was pretty shit, the crowd sucked. Although, right at the end Frank got in the crowd and moshed to My War (at the request of some guy in the crowd), and John sang it on his own. Frank got the fuck kicked in!  I had to respect him for doing it though..  After the gig John got jumped by 3 guys, guys from town looking for trouble. They were hitting everyone, they hit two girls, dislocated one of their jaws. Olly got a bad hit too, shook him bad. It was fucking horrible. I can't imagine how I'd feel if that happened to Jen. I feel like crying just thinking about it. I miss her a lot right now. What a shitty day!

John's giving a statement to the cops right now, it's 2.50 am. I'm gonna read some more of my Vivian Stanshall book, cheer my ass up a bit.

I just remembered that last night, at some point, Paul (J.T.) was crouched in the middle of the road outside the club, taking a shit! Last night was great. Today was shit. I'm lonely right now. Hope tomorrow in Hull is better...

Jan 26/03 – Edinburgh

I was fucking blasted last night, Snitch was there...Last night was Leeds. I'm a bit pissed off with myself actually, shouldn't have been like that. Some of the guys fucked me off with their snidy comments, considering that some of the cunts can't even play their instruments when they're sober! Pricks. It was a good gig last night though, from what I can remember. The crowd were really cool. One of the best so far.

Hull was really cool, even though the venue sucked. They gave us plenty of food to eat. Everyone got involved in some Jackass style nonsense afterwards, like taking a solid steel tray over the head. Frank took a lot in a stand off with Daz. We left the place pretty trashed!!! Liverpool was okay. Love were playing next door, would have been great to see them. My old man is going (to see Love) tomorrow. After the Liverpool gig, some kid got messed up in our dressing room. Totally fucked. Some of the guys were pouring vodka down his throat. Twats. He was no older than 16, he couldn't even stand. Some of the people in this band can be real wankers at times.

Last night One Pity's van got broke into. They had a couple of basses and a guitar stolen. That's pretty shit but you have to learn from stuff like that. They were just sitting in the front seat waiting to be stolen. You don't do that in Leeds. Wonder what tonight will be like? Sober! I'm pretty bored and I miss Jenny loads. I got the new Entombed album earlier, the covers record. It's ok.

Jan 27/03 – Somewhere near Dundee

Just sitting on the bus, waiting. Sometimes the boredom really gets you. I just had a very welcome shower though, feel better for that.

Last night was cool. Really good gig, good crowd. Usually is in Scotland for us guys. It was our old mate Big Al's last ever gig promoting last night, fitting that it was us playing. He's going back to tour managing. We went to this rock bar afterwards, this place we played about 3 years ago. It's totally changed now, it's pretty posh! There were loads of old friends there. I spent three hrs. chatting away to old faces. The guys from Ninth Circle were there, the first band we ever toured with.

I was talking to Olly and Paul from J.T. and we're gonna organise them coming to Stockholm to jam out some Slint style stuff. Hope that works out, would be really cool. I could see myself being really good friends with those guys...

Daz got pretty wasted on whiskey and puked on himself in the bar. That cunt will never change! We're moving again now. Watching the Blues Brothers. The scenery outside is beautiful. Wish Jenny was here to see it with me.

Later: It totally pisses me off being in this band sometimes. I can't even fucking brush my teeth because there's too many stupid girls on the bus. Sometimes I have no respect for these guys. I miss Jen. Good gig tonight!

Later still: I absolutely fucking hate these guys! I don't know how much longer I can stick being in this band with these people. Someone is crying in their bunk again, although I'm not sure who it is...

Jan 29/03 – In the Bunk

We just left Johnny Truant in Whitehaven. We're going to Ireland, they're going home. It was pretty tough saying goodbye to them, it's been great having them on the road, we've got some new brothers in these guys.

The last couple of days have been ok. Dundee and Aberdeen were both good gigs. We found this really cool record shop in Aberdeen. I got the first Saints lp there. The guy who owned the place was great. Spoke about great music with him for ages.

Tonight was a weird one. Whitehaven? Fuck knows! It was a really big hall with not that many people in it. John and Frank got really fucked off because some guy threw beer at them. They didn't want to go back on stage and play a couple of extra songs. Then I had an argument with them, telling them that these kids out there had paid good money to see us and were shouting for more. They went back on in the end. It makes me laugh when they moan about getting a bit of beer thrown at them.

On our way to get the ferry to Ireland now. These roads are bumpy. Doug reckons he had a premonition about the boat sinking tomorrow so he's getting off the bus and up to the deck. Fuck that! It's too early, I'm staying here! Fucking Doug!

13 days until I see Jenny...can't fucking wait! I miss her so bad!