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You know it ain’t a bad life. I am sitting by the River Tay, in Scotland, in beautiful sunshine with a couple of hours to kill before the gig tonight, in Scotland, funnily enough. Plus which my eldest, Max, got 5 A*’s, 3 A‘s, and 2 B’s in his GCSE exams. Geeser!Anyhow, where was I? Yeah well man I done a gig and then I done anuvver and after about free fasaand of em I got really poplar and yeah I sort of got completely twatted on booze all the time, bit of a pig I was when I think about it, knowharrImean? There was lodes of birds an’ all that, and I never made no money cos I was a twat about it, but we did loads of bev, it was great man, Shit life, dying as a pauper, knowharrImean?... That was an extract from, "Amadeus-genius or nobhead? Conversations with Mozart (from beyond the grave)", written by me, and available through Teddington press, priced £3,800,000. Life just got better, as a string quartet has just struck up as I sit here in Scotland’s fantastic clean air, this is fabulous. 
I think the next gig after the last one what I writ about was in Holland, Glaspop festival or something. Had both my boys, sorry, young men out working with us, as I mentioned, Max on crew, and Fred, official baggage co-ordinate. Lots and lots of the Dutch there, as were the Thin of Lizzy and the Deep of Purple, and the Bud of Gie. Eh? I went out for a stroll around the site, and found a CD stall, selling, of all things, Cds. When I looked under the Status Quo, I saw probably 40 bootlegs for sale, and what’s more they were of us! Ranging from 1066 to this year, some of them are probably pretty good, and some of them ain’t.
Gig itself, fabarooney, we had our favourite slot, in between 5 and seven, when people (the billy-not us!) are not too tired or out of it to get rocking, and playing with other big bands does really get you up for it that little bit more. Linnerd Skinnerd, (listen, how the hell am I supposed to be able to spell a stupid name like that if it’s not in spell check?) had to follow us, and I didn’t envy them one bit. There were some REALLY Drunk Dutch Dudes, luckily nobody got mashed, really odd that, at a festival when you do see it go off, there’s nothing you can do or get done about it... 
Anyway, back overnight to 2 shows in a day, one private, and one at Petworth House, a beautiful stately home in Sussex, England, all the Edwardses were present and correct, as were the Parfittses and Letleyses, very happy families backstage, saw some mad woman down the front going wally in front of me, oh m’god I thought to myself, she really looks like that wife of mine, then I realised it was, having a great time, oblivious to the fact she was continually pushing this woman, who I thought was going to knock her out! I don’t know, these lairy punters... Brilliant location, acres of space, even though it was sold out weeks in
advance, the stages on all these gigs have been a bit of a pisser, they’re semi circular, so the view from the side is a bit restricted, which could be good if for instance you didn’t want to see me, stand on my side just to my left and the other side of the stage covering and bob’s yer uncle. If I do see hundreds doing that, even I, the thickish skinned Rhino will get the message. Good show we done also...
Moving swiftly on, I am now in an hotel room in Lincoln, town of beautiful cathedral and lots of CCTV cameras, possibly quite a violent town, I wonder if the 100 yard long trail of blood on the pavement has clouded my judgement… Mind you, my judgement could be clouded by a day spent with our soundman Andy May, a man who SURELY must have 2 small horns coming out of his head. I always said that when I hit 50 I’d slow it down a bit. Right. I have DEFINITELY felt better than this... Feels a bit like end of term today, as it’s the last show before the summer hols. So.. We had a weekend off after Petworth, so Ms. L Worsfold and myself cycled the 58 miles from Richmond to Oxford, for charidy mate, which was pretty tough, but a good crack, then the following weekend a town square in Aachen, just inside Germany, beautiful place, with lots of our billy around, met folks from Germany, Belgium, Holland, Norway, and one who I think was from Saturn. 3000 of y’all, and you were great, however I’m still pleased we’re not playing in Germany for a while, not because I don’t love it there, but we could be seen to be taking the piss out of the willhelm. Still, don’t worry all you Deusche (check spelling) dudes and ettes, I’m sure we’ll be back with a 458 date tour in January, doing a 5 day set... or\ maybe Botswana. 
On to France, staying opposite the palace of Fontainebleau, wow, you can see why they had a revolution, huge place, starving peasants outside, and that opulence inside. A gig I’d rather forget in some ways, as the audience was un peu thin on the ground, maybe 1500 in an outdoor gig that could, and should have held more. However, our French Guillam is very vocal, and they love to rock their petits chaussettes off (I have no idea how you spell that, but it means little socks. And yes, I can spell T.H.A.T. in case there’s any smarty-pantses reading this) The other reason I can remember it is that we played fantastic, especially
The Right Reverend Rock Parfait, the rockin’ vicar...
Went home, done me washing, got me wallet emptied and turned around for the Channel Islands, Guernsey, then Jersey. I was walking around St Peterport, the main town in Guernsey, thinking how nice it was, and maybe I’d bring that Kath out for a few days, then I thought, hold on, this is something old people do. A little voice said to me "but you ARE".Not that old though, and I speak as a survivor of the Guernsey inferno, one of the hottest gigs ever, I remembered it was a hot one last time we did it, but this was incredible. I am the proud inventor of he Edwards diet, e.g. go and get really hot, dance around like a twat for 100 minutes, and this is the clever bit, wear a vest underneath a denim shirt while you’re at it. Guaranteed to a) lose you weight, or b) kill ya. I now weigh 105 pounds, but of course I shall manage to regain normal weight by tomorrow, the Jersey gig, this is done by consuming large amounts of alcohol and food, a harsh regime I know, but I recommend it. I also have a good rate on heart bypass operations (p94). 
Jersey, pretty good, but we had lost a massive amount of energy in Guernsey, so a tad less energetic, still good though. Back to Gatwick, picked up my loverly Maisie Mae, and off we trundled to Brussels, for a lovely night off, spent some time in le Grand Place with Mae, mussels in Brussels of course, I love Belgium, it’s such an amalgam (posh word, ah?) of cultures, but they seem to sit together quite happily.
Gig in a town, can’t remember the name, plethora of Flemish speaking supports, in the town square, one of the cafes looked just like the one in ‘allo ‘allo, really quaint place, for once this summer the cloud found us, but it wasn’t too bad, and let’s face it, they do get a tad of wetness in Belgium. I love it when there’s a bit out the front of the stage, especially when it’s raining, if Billy’s getting wet why shouldn’t we? Apart from the risk of electrocution, there’s really no reason not to do it.
On to Liverpool, a marquee, took the ferry with Rick to the theatre he appeared in as a teenager with the Highlites, it was still there and open, and we had a good look around. He was SO sent, and if you’re reading this at the theatre, he’d like to thank you very very much for your help.
Sweaty gig, posh people in the front, lots of dosh, and lots of completely bladdered Liverpudlian women in the front. Phoarr! provocative or what? They were even cruder than me, and I really didn’t think that was possible. More wallet emptying, then Newmarket races, we did it last year, I had a flutter then and lost... I had a flutter this time and lost, met the lovely Cyndy and friend, the gig has probably permanently damaged my eardrums, the sound was just as horrific as last year, but when I stood out the front I realised the bass was the loudest thing in the mix, so that’s pretty much where I stayed. Preaching to the unconverted, but at the post the result was 1) Status Quo (5/1) 2) `Status Quo (3/2) 3) Status Quo 300000000000000/1 on, although we came third, we also came first and second, 25,000 ran. 
Overnight to Exeter, and Powderham Castle, met the Earl of Devon in his house, seemed like an awfully nice bloke, Powderham had been the ancestral home for 70000000 years or something. Funny thing, this nobility, innit? It means that sometime in the past, one of their descendents robbed, pillaged, raped and murdered quite a lot of people, and took their land, cows, etc. still, that’s the way it goes, it’s just called the Inland Revenue nowadays… Fabulous gig, Carl Palmer opened for us, that was the weirdest supporet (Devonian for support) since Nicole Lacey, by the way, is she in the "where are they now" file? Great billy great location, good old England, Exeter=ten out of ten for cool town, had my Fred along for the weekend, he said he wants to go there on holiday... even crapper footy team that TWFMBFC, who incidentally won 2/1 today, phew, first of the season, long as QPR don’t go up I’ll be happy. 
Switzerland next, arrived at Zurich airport 5.00, 45 minutes drive to show, on stage at 6.30. 38 degrees on arrival, can you imagine what it’s like putting denim jeans and shirts on in heat like that? Euugh! Still only 42 degrees on stage, with the lights, back in hotel, finished by 8.30, weird man. Always great to play in Switzerland, they do this thing with their hands when they want an encore, sort of looks like birds flapping their wings, shivers down the old sweat covered spine that... Great gig by the way.
Austria, Graz, with the Deep of Purple, we were supporting, but didn’t half go well, lots of Purple people are now Quo army now I reckon. I heard that it pissed down when Purple were on, what a pisser. I wouldn’t wish that on any band, well maybe one or two, but not them, took me Kathy wit me, a lovely little 2 day break, flew Ryanair as it was the only direct flight, bit of an eye opener, bloody good idea though.
More wallet emptying, then up to Scotland, which is where I started this episode, to play Knockhill race course, the Scots can’t half make some noise, and a s you probably know, Rossi is a real god up there. Top Mctotty, a seriously beautiful part of the world, the Little of Egypt were also on, with their brand spanking new guitarist Ik. No, really. Didn’t see them, but he is apparently the dogs’ Saw the mighty Fish, nice bloke him. We're on the bus, just done Lincoln, not bad, I am a top bloke for doing this log, you are the top billy, Heavy Traffic tour is no more, but Riffs is next. Seeya,  XXX
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