Blimey, these logs are like waiting for a bus. You stand there for ages then 2 come along. I'm in Brest, forget that shit about all French restaurants being the bollocks. I've just been out with Ricardo (luckily he paid) and it were a bag o'shite. Ha, you didn't know I speak fluent Breton, didya? Alan Stivell eat your brains out. Actually I think the saying mentions heart instead of brain. Both sound pretty gruesome to me as it goes (cliché of the night so far).
I'm bussed out, we've done over 1000 miles in 2 days, some people get bus legs actually, just like sea legs, I'll stick with the 2. Which is the score by which I'm beating the man from Barnes in a fight to the death game of Russian roulette, sorry, rummy, 2 legs to 1, he just pulled one back, so to speak.
You know, when it's time to write a log I think "John babes, (I do, for that is my own pet name for myself) John babes, why dontcha just write about the shows?" Search me, it uses up valuable brain cell, but one feels one ought to relay one's present state or absence of mind, as I 'av in fect met 'er royal 'ighness the Queenie Margareta actually I meant Elixabeff of Ingerland, and them other places an 'all, like Whales and Scotchland, so there. Talking of that place, which I now am, don't forget Woodedz on Islay, 18th September, if you love me you'll be there... 8 distilleries? Suits you sir.
Right, I'm over that now. Oostende, Saturday, saw a bloke in a real Mankini promenading along the beach with an awesome mullet as well, style icon or what? Strange show, in a concert hall which resembled an East European building, lots of sitting down Belgians, a late hat-trick from Francesco Rossi of Inter Purley was the difference between the two teams on the day.
Bospop. Oh m'god! Backstage! Rock n' fucken' roll. Twisted Sister! I actually supported them on their first ever UK show, at the best club EVER, the original Marquee, on Wardour street in the West End of London. Great bass player in that band, hate the music me, but he was awesome. Anvil! Saw Lipps, told him how much I loved the film, he looked at me like I was mad, as did Dweezil Zappa! ...when I told him I loved what he's doing re Uncle Frank, met up with the guys and gal from the mighty Heep!, didn't get to see them as they were on just before I arrived, Francis and Rick both said they were great and kicking, which of course they are. Billy Idol! He watched our entire sweat soaked gig, as the sun was full on the stage, he was pretty good, great band... watched the World cup final at the gig, what an anti-climax, hang your heads in shame you dirty Dutch team, that was a disgrace, Sorry but it was.
Toto had to go on afterwards but they tore it up, credit where it's due. We (especially Francis ) were just too hot, and I don't mean that in a good way, but you can't win 'em all.
After a few days off, took me mum to Rochester castle, which was nice as we were playing there that night, well sold out, with, to be honest, a, for want of a better word, duff opening act, then Westonbirt Arboretum, funny name for a place that, loads of trees there though, 7000 peeps. Spud and his wife Gilly were there with a lovely looking picnic, unfortunately a complete glass of red ended up down Spud's shirt and jeans, poor bugger, how can one teensy glass of wine cover such a large area? Luckily Rick bailed him out with some clean clothes. We are doing something right, things is on the up y'all...
After that Guilfest, met up with one of my best mates Mr. Dave Levy, bass player extraordinaire and bon oeuf, my cousin Clive, as in drummer with Wild horses, Pat Travers, UFO etc, fantastic to see him after such long time, and Mr. Mark King of the Level 42s, what a gentleman that bloke is, he also has the good taste to play Status basses as well... god I'm so full of positive vibes I think I'm going to have to become a Scientologist. What is that all about?. How could you join a religion led by a bloke called Ron? Allah has a certain ring to it, Jesus, OK, but Ron? Leave it out...
Anyway, on to Freiburg, Germany. A very (well, used to be) close friend of the band, Dieter Boes is the promoter. "No worries, it won't be hot in the tent you're in".
Dieter I love you man, but you was LYIN! It were boiling, but no-one died, so fine. Backstage amazing by the way, but I took no photos, so you'll have to believe me, my word is my bond (cliché no.2 there) however. I'm off the land of somewhere else, see you tomorrah, Jeannie babbexx bons baisesxx
Sweden, 10 shows in a circus tent. What a great idea, each one a special event in the small towns we were playing. Started brilliant, great weather, fantastic days off in Helsingborg and Varberg, then it started to rain. And rain. And rain. What a total bummer, especially for the guys who were erecting and breaking down the tent every day. No fun at all. We had to move 2 shows indoors, one to a sports centre, and one to an hotel ballroom, weird that one.
A special mention must go to the Swedish crew who travelled with us, you were really really good guys, special thanks to crew boss Christian, especially as he thought I was about 45!. Also, well done to all the opening acts, they were all local bands who I believe won a contest to play with us. You all did well, credit to your towns. Except one, but I ain't telling which, they were KERAPP! We went to Visby, on an island we'd never been to, Gotland, where the rain, which amazingly held off until just after we finished, was absolutely mental.
Talking of islands did I mention Woodedz, Islay, Sept 18th? I did? Oh, never mind.
I had a really good time in Sweden, had Mrs. Edwards with me for 4 days, which was nice, it's such a massive country, and so sparsely populated. A brilliant day on the beach in Varberg, like I said, the days off were gorgeous weather wise. It didn't actually rain every show day, but you know what I mean. Photo call all with Swedes, English, Headbang Animal and Johan, they did the whole 10 shows. Hope we cheered you up Hans.
Anyway that'll do ya for now. Actually nope, we then had 2 days off in Norway, where we were headlining a blues festival, I know, we're not a blues band, but we were there anyway. Beautiful location, all the bands in the same hotel, met up with my mate Rick from the Walter Trout (yep, that's his real name) band, lovely bloke him. I never realised how much posing went on in the blues world, lots of American wearing Stetsons and talking loud in the bar.
And yes, it pissed with rain for pretty much the whole 2 days, but we had a great barbeque, band and crew in the local mud hut with a grass roof affair one evening.
Whoopee, show day was bright and sunny!! Loved it loved it loved it, also the luverly Norwegian ladees in the crowd. I love each and every one of you. Especially the two that kept kissing each other...
I had another reminder of how well travelled I am when we arrived at Oslo station to collect a bus driver, the legend that is Clarkay from Dudlay. I remembered they have a serious Indian takeaway on the concourse, which of course is where my self and Barnes man headed.
Ayway that IS your lot for now, go on, get a life. xxxx