Rhino's Tourlog 2012  
Part 2:
Log de France

The French.
Do you know what I love about the French?
If they donít agree with something they do something about it. In England itís letters to the editor from Mr. Angry. Iím in France at the moment, and theyíve had big demos about gay marriage, hundreds of thousands of people apparently, mainly anti. I personally donít have an opinion about it, but I think itís great people voice their feelings, that to me is democracy. In the UK, sorry PC world, if I didnít think it was a good idea Iíd be labelled a bigot. That isnít democratic to me.

Anyway, do you know what time it is? 9.15 in the bloody morning! And Iím doing this! No wonder Iím shouting! In the lovely city of Strasbourg, I know, Francophile me, except that I tried to get a meal at 4pm yesterday, "impossible monsieur" (French for are you barking mad?) "You are a customer? Oh, you are unimportant, the main thing is that we get 4 hours off in the afternoon then open for about 8 minutes and refuse you dinner, as they are complet (empty) even though the place has got about 3 people, and of course a chien (cat) in it."

They are amazing and annoying in equal measure here, just like me actually.


I canít believe it, I have risen early (ooh ah missus) to sit at me laptop and resume my long awaited, well, awaited, well, long tour log...

It has been a fair while, hasnít it. Not much happening... a one-off in Australia, original band reforming, loads of touring, film premiere, soundtrack album, Grant... Ah, thereís a sad thing. When we saw him earlier in the year myself and Andrew thought he looked unwell, even though he reassured us heíd just decided to get fit, had given up smoking and was on a diet. It kind of didnít really ring true, and it wasnít a complete surprise when I heard heíd been diagnosed with cancer. However, I thought, Grant? Constitution of an ox that one. Heíll beat this, but we all know that it beat him.

Heís a hard act to follow, as the testimonials to him on the Quo site show. You know, I never heard ONE bad word about Grant, and there arenít many people you can say that about. Heís missed very much by all of us, what a great guy.
Moving on, as Iím afraid we all have to, I donít know where to begin. So, a few gigs to start with. Heidenheim, tiny town in Germany, outdoors, on to Austria, land of the best Sauvignon blanc this side of Salisbury (what?), and a club, area 47 I think it was/is called, right next to an adventure park where we met Klaus, our old bus driver. Thatís interesting for those of you that know him, boring if not. I bought some cuppa soups in a supermarket there, now thatís interesting. By the way, thanks to the couple that actually threw me a cuppa soup on stage in Aurich, Germany, the other night, very nice too. I should mention here it was still in a packet, not scalding hot and in a cup, which it will be in about 8 minutes as I am missing petit dejeuner (lunch) for you lot, yes, I suffer for my art as well you know.

Anyway, hot and loud, next day quite a strange one. We were playing on the river Danube, or Donau as itís called in Europe. The stage is about 10 metres off the bank, a few billy were paddling while we were on, ahh, nice. Well strange, but a really interesting location, thatís one of the things I love about being in a band like this. We donít just play major cities all the time, we get around to all these exotic, and not so exotic locations, and I gets a chance to see some amazing things before the mindless boogie part of the day.

Home for 5 days, then Kew gardens, one of the few gigs I have caught a bus to. All the family there, some filming, which of course I am completely blasť about, and a sound limit about as loud as a botty burp Iím told (by the way a botty burp is a fart). And of course it rained. A lot. However, I must say the ever so posh billy did really enjoy oneselves, a good night.
On to Locarno In Switzerland, we stayed in the beautiful town of Lugano, I went out in the evening as they had their festival on in the main square, great vibe. What a fantastic looking lot they are, the Italian Swiss, stylish as you like. So went out in me new Fit flops trainers, of course you canít wear any kind of sock with them, even trainer socks if you want to look any kind of cool, which I most definitely am. So the coolest dude in town gets back to the hotel 3 hours later virtually on his knees, with patches of open skin the size of a half crown (ancient English coin) on each ankle. JEEESUSS! That stung for a while.

After the gig we had to get to Sweden next day for the first of our 10 date tour, so jumped in the old private plane like you do and headed off. We had a day off in Gothenburg, my favourite place in Sweden, the last time on the piss, sorry, having a drink with Grant sadly. The tour was, shall we say, dogged by bad weather. One show we actually watched the cloud coming in, it was as if it had gone "ah, there you are" and 2 minutes before we went on the heavens opened, not clever and not funny.
We were staying at and playing outside a hotel owned by the bloke from Roxette, really nice place, the dressing room was all decorated with photos by Anton Corbin I think his name is. There was a fantastic picture of U2 and their fathers, Google it if you can, itís so great. You poor Swedes by the way, weather like that and getting knocked out of the footie so early. Aah... Nice American cars though, and such great food there (?) I also bought a fantastic Fender Kingman bass in Sweden, which can be heard on titles such as ^38h\tydjg and )&^%£TY%%£YYM, on the soundtrack album for the Bula Quo film which I hear is coming along nicely.

You know, sometimes when I read my logs to check them, I must come across as a total tit at times, not exactly rock and roll is it...

So... yeah, got to soundcheck, looked in my dressing room and the Chateau Lafitte was the wrong year. I mean I asked for 1957 grand cru white, it canít be that hard can it? So, smashed the room up after drinking 2 bottles of Jack Daniels, and made my way to the stage, which had a speck of dust on it. I mean, WTF? (Nuspeak for what the f**k. That means fuck when those asterisks are there in case you didnít know) So I threw the monitors off the stage, sacked everyone, including myself and went back to what was left of the dressing room for 4 grams of cocaine and 6 blow jobs before dinner.

Yeah, we really wowed the crowd that night after Iíd reinstated everyone as I couldnít remember why Iíd sacked them all. I love being in Chicory tip. -->

What is this preoccupation with rain? Next show was in Tienan, Belgium, a venue weíve done a coupla (see how hip I am?) times before, this time with Alice Cooper. Love the town, didnít get to the sugar museum (damn!), we had a blinder gig. Alice came on, it pissed down incredibly, I reckon the cloud got confused.

Home and on to the lovely town of Ledbury, with the mighty 10ccs, a great ticket for the casual fan I reckon. I won 30 quid on the lottery that day as well, gig in Eastnor castle grounds, beautiful place, we always get dressing rooms in the main bit, how the other .00002 live, amazing.
Right, all done, salut mes amis.

Edwardse, cinquante neuf an' a 'alf.

By the way, as I finished this the fire alarm went off. This is typical French. Me calling reception:
"Is there a fire?"
"Is this a practice?"
"Can I stay in my room then?"
ďWhy canít I stay in my room?"
"Becourse you cannnot"

Phone goes dead.

Vive le difference!

Pictures by Gert Ohlsson.

The Quid Pro Quo Tourlog 2011/12:

2011 - Part 1    2011 - Part 2    2011 - Part 3    2011 - Part 4    2011 - Part 5   

2012 - Part 1    2012 - Part 2    2012 - Part 3    2012 - Part 4    2013 - Part 5   

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