On a plane now, from Belfast to London, just realised I only covered 2 shows, veering off the point a bit this time. Well that's alright with me if it's OK with you. Next to Doncaster races, beautiful day, lots of very pretty frocks about, with lots of visible female form.. Luverly Jubblery. Then Newmarket, more of the same, nice glass of vino with Cindy and Julie, I actually met a fairy there. I don't know her name, because all her mates called her Fairy Nice to meet you. Anyway, I had all these "hot" tips, they all lost. So I picked 2 at random for one of the races and they came 1st and 2nd. That's it for me, bit of a mug's game I reckon that betting malarkey.
Sorry about Tidworth, nothing to do with us, apparently we're getting some flak about the lack of festival, well it's completely unjustified. A word about buying tickets. Always pay with a credit card that gives you free insurance against things like Promoters going under. It might cost a couple of quid more than a debit card but it's worth it. I don't know, maybe every credit company insures you anyway.
Powderham was miserable and wet, the evening brightened up somewhat by the opening act, a French//American rock blues type thing. Or was it blues rock? They're called Carousel Vertigo - They're MySpace is at: http://www.myspace.com/carouselvertigo Anyway they like Free, so that's good enough for me, also one of those rarities nowadays, a band that doesn't mind playing a song slow if that's the right tempo to make it kick. We (Quo) used to play a lot of songs too fast with Jeff, nothing personal, it just happened, and when the Killer joined we kind of took a step back and let Mr. Adams (Methew Roger Letley, for that is he by another name) take over. Methew, that's the way to say Matthew posh y'know. Anyway, back to the band.
They're just starting out and will write better material, but there's a rawness to them that's promising. Anyway, I've asked them to open for Woodedz at our London gig, might be good for them and they told me to fuck off. No they didn't really, so they'll be there as well.
Germany, and, get yer chest hair wigs on, the "ROCK OF AGES!!!" Festival. Good to see Thunder there, 'twas their penulllt, penulti, penalt, er second to last gig ever, went out front to watch and they were seriously, and I mean seriously kicking. What a shame they've decided to finish, one of the bands that should have been huge but for some reason never quite got there, no idea why. I don't want to sound condescending but good luck to all of them in their future projects, they're such talented guys we'll be hearing more before too long. Does that sound pompous? Dunno. Bit Jimmy Saville if you ask me guys and galls.
Good audience, it was like and old comrades reunion backstage, there was the Thunders and Roger Chapman's' band, all of whom I knew from different gigs. Sitting next to John Marter the drummer, chatting away. He turned to talk to me and spilt his dinner and drink all over his lap, broke the plate, the works. All over the floor. Nothing to do with me, honest, some might say it's my aura; well just don't get too close or something very bad will happen to you. Ok, idea... any Anoraks out there know his connection with Quo? Prize for the first one who does.
By the way, I'm actually in Bilbao at the moment, just had my mind blown at the Guggenheim, can't say any more than that. In fact that's enough for now, I'm doing a "dipping in" log, as and when I have time/feel like it, later.
Ok it's later now and Barcelona is the location, I'm just going for a stroll to the Guell park, as in Gaudi designed it, get in there! By the way, they have an energy drink here that's a Red Bull equivalent. It's called Pink Fish. I haven't tasted it yet. It's in my room looking at me as I write.
I also lost the piece of paper with all the gigs listed on it and can't get on line so this will have to be from memory. New York was amazing, but not as good as Tokyo, yeah I know, ho bloody ho. I think we went to Denmark next, Sonderberg, by the sea with a natural amphitheatre. Yes I remember now. Packed it were, and there was a woman at the front I recognised from the recent Borgholm show. She had tattoos of Rick and Francis, I said to her "where's me?" Well, one week later and lo and behold she's at the front with a tattoo of me. You are mad but thanks a lot, I love you too babyxxx.
Now I reckon we went to Belgium to an outdoor festival called Sutterock or something, in a town square. Fanbloodytastic vibe, I went out for some chips and a stroll, as you do in Belgium, had my pass with me so that was cool. Wandered round the town for an hour, had a Maes beer (and thought of me daughter. Aah) suddenly realised I'm getting late for the show so went in through the front entrance. Not. The bloke at the door would not let me in. There were Billy there asking for my autograph, saying to the security guard "but he's in Status Quo, they're on in 30 minutes" He didn't care, I could have been Jimi Hendrix (well not really) and he wouldn't have let me in. I had to slope off to the ticket office; I thought I was going to have to pay (which as the second meanest man in rock would have hurt a lot. Paying to get in your own gig? Come on) but the ticket girl recognised me and gave me one. Ticket I meant you filthy minded lot. I just love those gigs, top totty an' all.
Back 'ome for a week then the Glastonbury, if you will, Experience. Us and Bjorn Again, it really doesn't do it for me, I know Abba wrote some classic songs but I've never been a fan, and it all seems a bit silly to me. Someone is really raking in the dosh though. I got to meet Micheal Eavis, who runs the Glastonbury festival, a very friendly chap who looked remarkably like a garden gnome. At the gig (Barcelona) now, maan, backstage and getting ready to rock, actually just deciding which bar to go to for an early evening vino blanco with the man from Barnes who is not a snob by the way, he just talks quite posh lak innit.
At Barcelona airport now, which is a good place for me to write as the airport is called El Prat, which apparently means hay in Catalan. On our way to Palma Majorca, where I'm meeting the Mrs. Edwards I am currently married to, in fact the only one I've ever been married to. I've started so...
Off to Kamenz, a former GDR town near Poland I think, anyway, completely un German, a complete mix between new and old, as in restored and not. Gig is a place built by the Soviets, an amphitheatre, half restored I think would be a charitable way to describe it. Ok it's a dump but we still had a good time. The support was bizarre even for a Quo gig, a one man Morrissey tribute act. I know, we've had 'em all, remember Nicole Lacey?
F*** F*** F*** F*** X10! Our flight's just been delayed by 2 hours, bollocks. Anyroad, after that, to Stadtallendorf, where I was fortunate enough to buy a new garden broom from my favourite shop, Lidl. Football ground gig, saw the guys from Pure Quo there, nice to see y'all. Next day's show as cancelled, ask me another on that one.
Zurich, what's to be said? The usual well up for it audience, with the Crappytravel brigade there also, well done that man. It's that thing they do when they want an encore, gets you well at it. Carrickfergus, where as I mentioned well cold, but we were excellent, had the WORST Chinese takeaway ever, if you're not tired of living don't go there, it's just round the corner from it. Saw the Thin Lizzy tribute band, well good they were as well.
Now, Spain. Wow. The best audiences anywhere. They're so up for it, they actually drowned us out in Madrid during Down Down, you ask that Billy and Ali who were there, I've got a really bad case of "Quo neck" which comes from shaking yer 'ead till you think it might fall off. Loud, sweaty gigs, perfect for me. I actually think Madrid should be banned from something, because there are so many stunning women there.
Bilbao, going back for a few days in October it was such a great place, anuvver sweat box, and last night in Barcelona, same again, kickin' arse.
Right that's it, I'm going for a drink to drown my sorrows because I'm going to be late for that Kath. That's my excuse anyway.
The Pictures tourlog 2008/9: