... after 2 minutes I'm still having trouble making them out as the singer sounds like he's really straining for a number 2. So far I've picked out Chaos, Disorder, Nothing Remains, and for the hook: OnanonanoninaBabylon. It's SOOO depressing!
As is the news today, what is going on in the world?
Ahh, that's better on the pod now, LA Woman, by the Doors.
In the middle of Sweden we are, on a day off, middle of nowhere but beautiful (say that word in a Welsh accent, it sounds so much more like it looks) scenery, After The TED NUGENT EXPERIENCE, we headed off to Denmark for Rock Under the Bridge.
Whilst I'm thinking of great Danes, I just want to say that Erik Thomsen, our Danish promoter, who died recently was a really great person to work with, and it's not the same without him. He only used to work with bands he liked, which sometimes wasn't right financially, a rarity nowadays. He'll be really missed by all. There's a tribute to Erik at www.ilmc.com/secure/ilmc/thomsen_tribute.html
Got Cream on the pod now, I'm sure Erik would have approved, Disraeli Gears... yeah.
Boiling hot early gig for us, packed out, said goodbye to the Perpel Peeple, that's the lot with them for now. Quite a few Brits, who we all had a bev with before we left for the airport that night. (thanks for the tenner back from the Essex girl I lent it to - means a lot, well the tenner does!) I owe you one... don't think I've ever mentioned that Kim from Birmingham before, who was there, now I have... that's 40p you owe me! That's market rate nowadays folks, 40 English pence, if you get a mention from me pay up, or Big Ron's on his way round.
Ain't Cream just amazing?
Yep, back to Denmark, rock and roll baby. Wait at Hotel for 3 hours after gig, wait for crew, f*** off to local airport, proivate (that's how they say it in St. Austell in Cornwall) plane to Coventry airport, met on Tarmac by band bus 01.45. Arrive backstage at Silverstone, where we're rockin' the British Grand Prix, sleep well on bus. Wake up, feeling good and looking good (of course), meet family (and Jensen Button by the way, seemed like a really nice bloke, looked about 9 though). Watch race from start line (that was the best bit of the race for me and the family - got confused after that and ended up watching it on telly) then play great gig to 12,000 racegoers afterwards. Few bevs on the bus, and get dropped off by it at home (which was nice) about 11... One of those shagtastic 24 hours baby!!!
Nearly 2 weeks have passed, the year is 1806. I was going to start the next bit like that but couldn't think of anything to follow it, so: 2 weeks later, Knowsley Hall, Sunday.
"Marred by trouble with tosspots, and crap weather, a small but enthusiastic crowd, which included the Earl and Mrs. Earl of Derby (from whence the name of the horse race comes. I found that out from the horseowners' mouith (posh for mouth) so to speak - he owns Ouja board, a real contender. Very nice people they were, for Toffs, y'know me old cock sparrer? Now go on, run an' make us a cup o'rosie Lee, while I climbs the old apple and pears. 'onest, I arst ya? By the way, I have left the building, I'm sure it's because I'm not drinking.) were treated to some good old fashioned shit kickin' rock and roll by the grizzled, or should that read gnarly? rockers from London, Status Quo... I rocked my bollocks off, as did everyone.
That's an article from the Knowsley Bleedin' Evenin' Bastid Gleaner, Reviewer: Richard nonce Head, lol. lat, that's my new net abbreviation for laugh at all, that would be good dear reader. So, I do hereby promise, no more feeble attempts at humour. From now on they're not going to be that good. See, I've started again already, enni? Can't help myself.
On to bootleg of the Beatles' Decca records demo session, Wow, the Beatles, and I've never heard it before.
What a few gigs this is turning out to be. Next to Gelsenkirchen in Germany, playing the old Shalcke stadium, right next to the new one, where England will of course thrash Portugal and progress to the semi finals, as it is written in the stars WE SHALL BRING HOME THE WORLD CUP!!!. A day to remember for me, I said in my last log about Germany, I really did feel I was there at a special time. About 8000 mainly Germans in the venue in glorious sunshine, we really delivered I can tell you. In football parlance, we're running into a rich vein of form at the moment, which is more than can say for our national football team, but never fear we will do it, I mean Frank Lampard MUST score with one of those 867 chances he's had. Mustn't he? I mean it's obvious the manager is a clueless spineless twat who doesn't give a shit about England as he's off anyway, so ignore his instructions and PUT THE BALL IN THE BACK OF THE NET YOU LOVELY LOVELY BOY!
Got to go, as I'm now playing a track which really is called "Metronomic Underground" from an album called "Emperor Tomato Ketchup", no shit. Off to bed where I can't sleep 'Cos I ain't drinking, Rhino the Whino or what? Morgen, or is it nacht?xx
I just woke up and read my travails of last night, no more for me man! It's just that I'm really tired, this tour's a pig for resting if you don't sleep on the bus every night, and I'm all over the shop. Of course something kicks in when you hit the stage, but it's just making me a bit of a mess, some might say no change there, but I am. Plus day 5 of not drinking today.
Air featuring Beck on now... weird.
Newmarket, always good for me, this time the bass end of the PA was directly under the apron at the front of the stage (the apron is the extra bit that sticks out - I think), I mean it was bass heaven out there for me, and bass hell for everyone else. When I played a B note on the E string my vision got blurred it was that loud!! Fantastic, as were the 15,000 punters, bar a few decided to get a touch too raucous, and I recognised them as Quo Billy, leave it out guys, come on!. And I only lost 4 quid on the Tote...
Hastings beer festival and England about to beat Portugal, doesn't get much better than that does it? We all know what happened, I went for a walk during the penalty shootout, I just knew we were going to lose. I blamed the whole of Sweden at the time, but the rest of you are forgiven now, it's now only him and the English FA, bunch of tossers. I was listening on the radio the next day about jobs he (The Swede) could do, and some wag suggested he could join the musical "Grease" for the bit in Summer Love when he could sing awellawellawellawell! I liked it anyway.
Gig was good, absolute Asian goddess in front of me, obviously a woman of taste... problems with the Parfitt voice, but that was always going to happen, nothing to gain by resting it anymore,
My wife's left me by the way. Gone to France for a week with her mates, so I'm head cook and bottlewasher, bloody hard work it is too, but qualitee (copyright Lloyd Owusu) time with saucepans, human and steel.
Epsom races next, took my mum and Mae. My mum put 3 quid on the last race and came home with 66, that's it, gamblers anonymous for her coming up, I can see it now.
Better than working this is.
Now, don't you think you've had enough?
Tea break's over, back on yer 'eds xx