07.04.04
Leave MM and Quill and go to Bilbao for another Gluecifer
headline
show at the Kafe Antzokia. We come in some time after noon,
some of
us do the Guggenheim, which still amazes me although I have
been
there four times now. The third floor of the museum is a veritable
who's who of modern photography and it is great. Really great.
I try
to see a really cool underwater video thing but it is hard
to get
into it as some ugly german kids are making insane noises
the whole
time. I try to stare down a bespectactled creature that I
think is
their parent, but she pretends not to se me. Good luck woman,
you're
gonna have some really nice shit to deal with when these toddlers
become teenagers. After some hours of art, I hook up with
Oskari. We
go to the hardware shop where he buys a Taiwanese Leatherman,
or a
Skaiman if you want. (It is almost just like the real thing)
Then we
stroll down the riverwalk into the old city where we get some
class-a
ham and a beer in an old-man's bar.
The show is sold out (700 people) and we have a great time.
The
basque country is a great place, and yeah we know it's not
Spain!
Kike Turmix is present of course, this time sporting a kind
of walrus
moustache. Marga is there too. We roll out a little too early
as we
have a long drive to Lyon, where Paul Bocuse will do the catering
tomorrow, and a river of cote-du rhone awaits us.
06.04.04
So it's another off-day due to the cancelled show in Madrid.
There
are worse places than Barcelona to kill a day though. Two taxis
pull
up where our bus is parked around noon and a whole gang of americans
and british pour out looking for tourist action. We walk to
the
sagrada familia and even Phil Caivano is impressed, the group
splits
up a little and there's more walking and a tapas breakfast/lunch
and
down to the Gaudi apartment block and more photos and another
bar
where the ham melts in your mouth and the pimientos padron are
salty,
and we split up again and Raldo buys another three feet of records
and Thomas and I get some shoes and t-shirts and I try on fifteen
pairs of jeans at at shop and walk out without buying any of
them,
and we walk another 20 minutes and hook up with Danny and Johnny
and
our friend Gabriella who have been drinking brandy coffees for
hours
and look kinda jittery and the second-hand shop next to the
bar is a
goldmine where I get a rubyred shirt and Johnny gets a pubrock
outfit
from heaven, and there is another great dinner with plenty wine
while
Poon, Johnny and Ketil go to the Skid Row show, and another
bar where
they lift the velvet rope and we are the punters with beer among
the
young and stylish red-wine drinking young people, and there
are more
photos and hugs and laughs and cigars that are just cigars and
it's
taxis back to the bus with Tim Cronin who will ride with us
to Bilbao
to see the Guggenheim and do some lights in that order. Good
night. 05.04.04
We come to Barcelona and Razmataz in the late afternoon. Hang
out at
the club doing showers and chitchat, get a mediocre dinner
and play a
killer show. Barcelona audience is in top form. Across the
street to
Pepe's bar for free vodka-naranjas afterwards, I try my pidgin
spanish on some people and probably give'em a laugh. Poon
does not
want to end the night and begs us to go to the city centre
at 3
o'clock in the night saying there is a miniuscule chance that
one bar
still might be open. Yeah right!
04.04.04
Spend most of the day in bed after last night's excorcism.
Dinner at
some swiss dive bar just off the Rumpumpsteige, I have liver
and
rösti potatoes. The liver brings back childhood memories.
The rote
fabrik in Zürich turns out to be great, we sell merch
like it's
Guinness on St Patrick's day. I drink screwdrivers the whole
evening,
and that is great too. Leave early as we have a mother of
a drive to
Barcelona tomorrow.
03.04.04
I wake up at about seven in the morning and when I look out
the bus
window I see some massive alps. It's straight out of Lord
of the
Rings. I crawl back in the bunk for some more weird dreams
and wake
up again in Fribourg, Switzerland. It is still beautiful spring.
Thomas and I head into the city. We take a wrong turn somewhere
and
have to climb two hundred steps to get back on track. I curse
every
cigarette I have smoked the last weeks as my chest is about
to
explode about halfway up. When I reach the top I am a mess.
We
recover with a beer on some terrace and have a decent conversation
about food. Jim and Bob from Monstermagnet have been given
a big flat
for a hotel room and there is a big party after the show.
Thomas
enters pushing an airport trolley full of beer. Crafty. Danny
and I
wander back to the bus holding hands. Ketil is behind us walking
like
he's the ball in a pinball game.
02.04.04
Oh yeah, you probably were a little disappointed when I didn't
mention any april fools shenanigans from yesterday. We were
pretty
lame actually, Raldo Johnny and I tricked Thomas into believing
that
we met Jonas Fjeld on the street and that he wanted to come
to the
show. Oskari fooled himself by drinking seventyfive beers
and turning
into his scottish alter ego MacLehtonen, dressed in a kilt
made from
a bus-curtain. Today is spent in Reggio city, buying kilos
of
parmesan cheese and looking at shoes and girls. Before the
show a
nice girl called Debie gives us a tray of italian sweets,
cannoli and
rum puffs. Delicious. We hang out a little while after the
concert to
look at the goth-disco. They all look like Edward Scissorhands
and
Madam Mim.
01.04.04
Off day in Reggio Emilia where the nice people at Transilvania
offer
us a band-flat with showers and all. It's sunny and warm and
I wander
the streets for hours. Raldo, Johnny and I get a shave at the
local
barbershop. We hook up with Poon, Thomas and Danny for a splendid
dinner and cold Lambrusco. They know food in this country.
31.03.04
Early arrival in Rome where I haven't been in ages. We have
a
day-room at Hotel Arse, which actually is a nice arse. I spend
about
half an eon in the shower and put on my best Carlo Ponti clothing.
You know when in Wome etc. Johnny, Thomas and I take a bus
into the
city centre, and the sky just opens. It rains cats, dogs and
a couple
of goats. We buy some umbrellas from a street vendor and wade
trough
the eternal city spotting the Trevi fountain and the Pantheon.
What
was meant to be a pit-stop at at bar turns into a full engine
tune up
before we head back to the club. Dave W does a spasmodic dance
in the
front row as we start our set. MM cancels tomorrow's show
two minutes
after they go off stage. I hang out with Tim Cronin and co
at the MM
crew bus and get served some very nice cognac. A girl that
wants to
party with people after the show turns out to be a she-male.
Dolce
Drita.
30.03.04
Transilvania club is close to San Siro stadium so I go there
and pay
ridiculous money for a guided tour that takes me through the
main
stand and a couple of locker rooms. Then I watch old memorabilia
in
the "museum". Transilvania club is decked out in
a gothic theme. The
milanesios or whatever they call themselves show up in decent
numbers
anb seem to dig the Glue show. Wyndorf is not impressed with
the
crowd and cuts his set short. Chicken legs and free drinks
in a VIP
area afterwards. Meet our sweet friends Ruggero and Camilla
et al.
29.03.04
On the planes again, back to Munich. Picked up by bus at the
airport
and overnight drive to Milano. This day is about as exciting
as a dry
t-shirt contest.
28.03.04
I spend the day naked in bed watching norwegian TV and reading.
Get
dressed at eight for a gastro feast at Markens Grøde
where Leif Arne
cooks us straight into heaven. Will never forget the italian
chardonnay. Nightcaps at Blå Rock with Egon, the best
man to ever
walk the earth north of the polar circle.
27.03.04
And so the day starts at 5 o'clock in the morning at Munich
airport
where it's all aboard the red-eye-express to Tromsø,
Norway. I fall
asleep on all three flights, on the airports and in the car
into
town. The only thing I notice is the beautiful approach to
Tromsø
airport where the winds are throwing the plane around like
a tennis
ball in a tumble dryer and the mountains are drenched in blinding
sun. The show is the opening party for snowboard legend Terje
Haakonsen's end-of-season extravaganza competition The Arctic
Challenge. When we get into the backstage a plethora of snowboarders
have "challenged" the entire rider, but who cares.
We do our best,
and it's good enough. The night ends at the local biker clubhouse
and
when I get out the sunshine has been replaced by sleet and
snow.
26.03.04
And Bayern it is still, but today Munich at the Georg Elser
Halle.
Fifth "halle" on this tour actually. Big time! Georg
Elser was a guy
from Munich who tried to assasinate Adolf H at some point.
I'll give
you a halle for that Georgie. Right next to the venue is an
area
called "Kultzentrum" or something. Basically an
industrial area with
a lot of different clubs/bars/dönershops etc inside the
old
warehouses. It sounds cool, but it is actually pretty
creepy/boring/scheisse, especially at daytime. Guess the idea
is to
get all the people who want to party gathered at one place
so they
won't disturb the gute börgerliche schlafzeit for the
BMW-driving
Munich middle-class. My refuge is the Nachtkantine where the
coffee
is good and they have free internet. Meet Ed Mundell around
lunchtime, his face is very red after an 18-hour drinking
binge
yesterday. The crowd is absolutely great tonight, one of the
best
nights on stage I've ever had. Then it's on to watch a scorching
Monstermagnet show from the side of the stage. Then drinks,
hugs and
big smiles all around. Goodbye Germany, you have been great
to us,
and we have been great to you, like Paal from Backstreet Girls
put it
once.
25.03.04
From the eerie memories of Nürnberg straight to the Bavarian
countryside. We have a show at the Silo1 in Töging. We
were here once
before, and it was great. There are plans to rent bikes and
do a
little hike in the afternoon, but when I wake up and look out
the bus
window it is snowing. Fantastic, here I am in the south of Europe
and
it's snow, and then they tell me that back in Oslo it is nice
and
warm. Bummer. Spend the day sleeping in a beautiful bed at our
friend
Rudi's family hotel. Show is real fun, wild kids and two great
opening acts. Back to the hotel for a nice party in the restaurant.
We drink dunkel weissbier (dark brown ale made from wheat) and
Rudi
serves platters of cured meat with dark bread and fresh horseradish.
Yes please! 24.03.04
I wake up quite early today. We are in Nürnberg and the
club is right
next to a zoo. I get out of the bus in a hurry while everyone
else is
asleep and head for the zoo. It is very quiet, seems like
the whole
place is waking up. There's a light drizzle and pretty cold.
I walk
past some very deadpan baboons that stare me down. There's
some signs
that says "raubtiere" and I follow them until I
see some lions doing
what looks like predator yoga. There's a hole in the mountain
and I
walk in. I am all alone in in a circular room, the walls are
lined
with caged-in feeding pens for animals. In one of the pens
a huge
siberian tiger is pacing restlessly around. I have not had
breakfast,
and the tiger has not has breakfast. The tiger slowly looks
me up and
down, and I get the distinct feeling that I am being considered
as a
potential snack. I walk up to the cage and we have a little
stare-me-down contest that I lose. I can't help looking over
my
shoulder as I walk out, they say you will never hear if a
tiger
sneaks up on you from behind.
The rest of the zoo is depressing stuff, the animals have
empty
stares and look dirty. When I come back to the club, people
are
waking up. I tell everybody my tiger-story, might have overdone
it
ever so slightly actually, but hey, things like that doesn't
happen
every day do they?
After lunch, soundcheck and the
everydayjesuschristthisboringroutinecrapstuffthatyoudoontour,
Poon,
Raldo, Johnny and I take a cab to the Reichsparteitaggelände.
You say
what? OK, the stadium where Hitler and co held their big rallies
in
the thirties. You probably saw the pictures in your history
book in
school, hope you didn't buy the t-shirt. The main stand is
pretty
intact, and the proportions are insanely huge. We take the
obligatory
pictures at the podium where herr Schickelgruber used to whip
the 200
000+ crowd into a nazi-frenzy back in the days. All I can
think about
is Manowar.
23.03.04
We mess up the drive from Prague to Stuttgart and come to
the
Longhorn halfway into The Quill's set. The MM crew and the
local crew
helps us out and MM's tourmanager gives us some extra time
to get
ready. We feel like schmucks, but the show turns out great.
It is
sold out again. Thanks to everyone who gave us a hand tonight
so we
could do our thing, we appreciate it deeply. We stand at a
gallery
after our set and watch as Wyndorf and the rest turns the
1500+
people into a frenzy of sweat and slackjawed astonishment.
21-22.03.04
We are in Prague with our girlfriends/wives. Ain't gonna tell
you
nothing about this, you nosy people. I can say though that
Prague is
a very beautiful place, and that Slivovitz is a nice drink.
And yeah,
they have the coolest TV-tower I have ever seen.
20.03.04
So we are stuck three hours on the border between Germany
and Poland.
Then we hit a low-way that is so bumpy that my kidneys almost
turn
into a urine smoothie. Then it starts to rain, then I fall
asleep. I
wake up about an hour outside Warsawa. We see a highway hooker
on the
side of the street. Pretty bizarre, a girl in a miniskirt
and high
leather boots standing on a dirt road under an umbrella, smoking
a
cigarette. A friend of mine once saw one of these girls holding
a
cardboard sign saying "Puzi, 50 zloty!"
Nice people at the club, although they don't smile too much.
When we
ask for beer, they carry in about 100 full pint glasses on
trays. The
Quill has to go on a bit early, the promoter says the crowd
is
getting aggressive. Quill nails it tonight, we are a little
bit off
centre, MM goes down good as usual. Quick load after the show,
our
girls are in Prague and we are in a hurry to get there.
19.03.04
No you can't, because you are in Dresden with a hangover and
you have
a show to play. I try my amateur german on some people at
the club
when I can't find coffee, and they make fun of me. Very rude
on a day
like this. We play in an old slaughterhouse, it's fine. Have
to leave
right after the show as we are going to Poland. It's a shame,
we miss
the Church bar where the nice people from Flying Revolverblatt
has
invited us to a party after the show. Next time friends.
18.03.04
Berlin. Berlin! And what a day it is. Second hand shopping
in the
street a couple of blocks down from Tempelhof, meet two guys
from VG
newspaper that takes us to the East Side Gallery for a photoshoot,
doing outdoor interviews in the parking lot behind Columbia
Halle. A
pack of dogs hang out in the same parking lot, one of them
has been
observed eating human feces. Maybe we should film it and get
into the
Hundenkaviar business. Two thousand people show up for the
concert,
it is a rush, a great rush. Meet friends afterwards, go to
Wild at
Heart, meet more friends, go to Franken bar, even more friends.
Beer,
saure, more beer, more saure. Daylight-shock when we finally
get out
and head back for some sleep. Can I do this again tomorrow?
17.03.04
If yesterday was spring, today is pretty close to summer. I
spend all
day sitting in the sun outside the Schlachthof in Wiesbaden,
reading
newspapers and magazines. We do a headline show again tonight.
18
songs! The old bus comes back to us, and we doze off to the
sounds of
Professionals and Dr John. Tomorrow is Berlin. 16.03.04
First day of spring hits us in Cologne, and it is beautiful.
Monstermagnet and us are being filmed by german TV tonight.
Rockpalast! We get to play an hour instead of the usual 45
minutes,
and I think we pull it off pretty good. At the end of the
show there
are raised arms all the way to the back of the room. I think
a lot
about Rocco Klein today. This was his hometown and it is very
sad
that he is not around here anymore. We dedicate the show to
his
memory, and at the Underground club afterwards, one of his
friends
come up to me and say that she appreciated that. It was the
least we
could do. Poon and I are getting severely beaten by some germans
at
the fussball table in the Sonic Ballroom at 2 o'clock in the
night.
Bob from Monstermagnet are showing off his Jersey dancing
skills at
the floor afterwards. Pretty impressing actually.
15.03.04
So we wake up at Hotel Monopol at the Reeperbahn in various
states of
disarray. We have no bus and all our gear is inside the Grosse
Freiheit club where we left after yelling at everybody last
night.
Thomas comes to the rescue as he have arranged transport to
Hannover
with some rental cars. He has also fixed so a new bus will
come
tonight and drive us around until ours get fixed. We play
one of our
best shows on the tour tonight. After the show SPV president
Manfred
Schütze comes to our dressing room. He seems pretty happy
with his
norwegian kids. Manfred wears the best shoes I have seen on
this
tour, slick black leather loafers decorated with a massive
metal
ring. SPV has an aftershow party at the club afterwards and
Rudolf
Schenker is in the building. We miss the photo-op, sad. The
new bus
arrives and it is incredibly big and new. A redheaded girl
is in our
dressing room. She has a thousand-yard stare and is telling
everybody
that she needs some "kokaiiin" When she knocks a
glass over and spill
the contents over someone's bag I've had enough and I ask
her in a
very uncivilised way to vacate the premises. Moron!
14.03.04
I really don't wanna write about this day, but I will give
a short
report. Drive from Lingen, gearbox in the bus is a little
funky. Hit
the worst traffic jam I have ever witnessed outside Bremen.
Gearbox
Schmearbox even funkier. After standing virtually still for
90
minutes, shitbox decides to call it quits. Stuck on the side
of the
autobahn for four hours. All the backline, luggage etc taken
out of
the bus, bus towed away, we are stuck on the side with all
the gear
for another hour. We haven't eaten for nine hours. We finally
get
picked up by some cars and race to Hamburg just in time for
the show.
Our guys work like hell and gets the gear up in record time.
The
local crew fucks everything up for us, at the end of the show
there's
tons of feedback everywhere on stage. Our set is pure aggro.
After
the show we go the sauna at Scandia bar to be interviewed.
It works
wonders on us, and we end this asshole of a day on a high
note.
13.03.04
Another day where we play our own show. Today in Lingen. Don't
ask me
where that is, all I can say is that it's close to Osnabrück.
Everyone at the club is nice and treats us like family. I
take a walk
on the graveyard behind the club. Strange to see all the tombstones
for young men that died in Russia. Next to it is an old jewish
cemetery. I get thoughtful. The show is sold out and the crowd
is out
of control. Roars, stagediving, moshpit and smiles. Nice.
Oskari
tries to turn all his clothes into Marlboro Classics by putting
a
pack of cigarettes in with the laundry in the washing machine.
The
result is dubious.
12.03.04
Slow day spent on the streets of Åarhus together with
Thomas
tourmanager. I find a nasty black trenchcoat that I buy right
away.
It's awesome. Raldo finds a nice little guitarstore that says
they
can fix Stu's broken bass head. When we get it back it dies
the
second he plugs in. Parties on all three buses afterwards,
great fun.
11.03.04
Copenhagen. Rock City? No. Good food? Yes. Aftershow party at
the
worst rockbar I have ever been to. A nightmarish cross between
tyrolean afterski, postapocalyptic genesplicing and softrock.
Tons of
Jack Daniels regalia everywhere. A guy with a Joey Di Maio complex,
dressed in leather strips and a skirt, eats his girl in front
of Dave
Wyndorf. It looks like he wants Dave to join some kind of weird
threesome. Dave does the right thing and ignores him.
10.03.04
Raldo and I stroll around in Vasastaden in the daytime, buying
records and drinking coffee. Stockholm is bathed in sunshine
and
looks great. Robban Hellacopter invites us over for pre-show
drinks.
He and Kajsa has a beautiful flat close to where we play.
He makes
some mean caipirinhas and we have a good time with him, the
rest of
the Hellacopters plus Scott Morgan and some other friends
who are in
town. When we enter the stage the hall is a fridge, when we
leave it
is an oven. One of the best shows we have done on this tour.
We go
the O-bar afterwards, Boba Fett is playing records, and Sony
is
buying the drinks.
09.03.04
We have half a day to kill before we gotta go back on that
damn boat.
Poon and I put our day in the trembling hands of Oskari. He
takes us
to finnish sauna in Kallio, a working class neighborhood in
Helsinki.
It is beautiful. A big wood-fired oven and terraced seating.
Plus old
naked finnish men. The head saunaiste is an albino with a
shaved
crotch and red nailpolish on his toes. He tells us that it
can be up
to 140 degrees in this sauna. I get my entire body scrubbed
with
eucalyptus soap by a 55 year old woman. She also washes my
hear with
a tar shampoo. Inbetween the turns in the sauna, we sit on
a bench
out in the street with towels around our waists. We leave
feeling
compeletely refreshed. I recommend this to everyone who visits
Helsinki.
When we meet up to leave for the boat, the gearbox on the
bus is
fucked up. Driver Theo does some stunt mechanics as the clock
ticks
toward departure time. Theo saves the day when he fixes the
stuff and
we hit the harbor on time. I eat a terrible and expensive
meal at the
boat. Afterwards we check out the old finns dancing tango
untill the
wee hours.
08.03.04
I had my honeymoon in Helsinki. That was slightly more romantic
than
this stay. People hit the city in the daytime, returning with
records, shoes, clothes and pharmaceuticals. I meet Jarkko,
Milla and
other Flaming Sideburns/Bimboos people for a couple of beers
at Bar
Loose before the show. Tavastia is packed and the night rocks.
We
play Tim Cronin's band Gallery of Mites in the backstage after
the
show and it is great. The night ends in the lobby of the Presidentii
hotel where lamps are flying and tables smashed.
07.03.04
No show today as we have to travel to Finland by boat. Oskari
the
Finn is exited about hearing finnish language in the ferry
terminal.
He goes to the bathroom to relieve himself, listening to the
suomi
conversation outside the stall as he does his thing. He wipes
and
then accidentally drops the sheet of paper. With disbelief
he watches
the paper getting caught in a draft, sailing under the door
out to
where the finns are congregating. Finnish shouts of disbelief
and
discontent resonate between the tile walls as the people see
the
stained tissue on the floor, and icy stares nail our man Oskari
down
as he humbly exits from the toilet, picks up his "business
card" and
drops it in the can. We get hilarously drunk on the boat.
06.03.04
MM play in Oslo tonight. Lucky bastards. I miss home and everyone
in
the band still have their girls here. We are in Ørebro,
it is
saturday night and people are wasted. They are always wasted
in
Ørebro it seems. Poon and I eat scheisse-pizza before
the show. We
play at midnight. Have to take an elevator from the dressing
room
down to the stage and it reeks in there. Like the garbage
room in
Star Wars. Peepshows come up after the show, and Adde cracks
us up as
always. Some a-hole kids have a noisy party in the hotel at
night,
Danny is inches away from punching a 19 year old girl when
she is
knocking on his door for the third time.
------
05.03.04
Monstermagnet calls Gothenburg the rock capital of the world
tonight.
I think they are pointing to the fact that Union Carbide Productions
were from to this city. I back MM on this, Union Carbide was
one of
my biggest influences when I started playing in bands, and
they still
have a big place in my heart. Girlfriends/wives from Oslo
come to
visit some of the gang today, nice touch. The lucky ones goes
to a
hotel across the street with their loved ones. They all return
in the
morning looking pretty refreshed. I am knocked out with a
cold and
go to bed in the bus right after the show. I wake up around
5 am, a
drunk girl is knocking on our window and asks me where Bob
from
Monstermagnet is. "He promised that we should party"
I point out the
general direction to Bob to her. I notice that the parking
lot
outside the club is almost compeletely covered in urine. Some
of it
has frozen. It is a full moon. Oskari, Johnny and I sit up
till
sunrise listening to Dr John, Gene Clarke and Bob Dylan's
Desire
album.
------
04.03.04
Malmö, Sweden. I talk to my wife on the phone today and
it feels
weird knowing that I am so close to home, but still so far
away. We
get some rooms in a very nice hotel, and it is great as some
of us
are feeling a little beat at this point. Raldo and I have
Swedish
husmanskost for lunch, meatballs and isterband sausage with
mased
potatoes and all. I get the feeling that our show is a little
sloppy,
but we pick up at the end. We have made a new ending for Reversed,
and it turns out it is an excact replica of Monstermagnet's
ending
for the song "Right Stuff". Sorry about that, but
hey Dave you told
me that you wouldn't hesitate to steal any trick from anyone.
As
usual when we have hotel rooms I wake up at 06.30 and can't
sleep
anymore. I have a weird dream about german fans rubbing their
hands
in my face. Yikes!
03.03.04
We have decided to do our own shows on some of Monstermagnet's
off-days. Today is the first one. In Kiel. Pretty slow day
as
everyone's recovering from yesterday's shenanigans. Come nighttime
and over 500 kielers show up for the rock. They are mental
from the
first chord and it is messy fun until the finale. Thank you
Kiel. We
go to a spooky barcomplex in the city afterwards, Think like
a
cineplex, only there's not eight different movie theaters,
but eight
different bars. Everyone showing the same German B-movie.
The first
thing we see as we come into the place is some poor drunk
kid being
systematically beaten up by three beefy bouncers. I get depressed
and
can not shake that feeling for the rest of the night. Fucking
scumbags.
02.03.04
Dortmund. First German show on this tour. I get a ride with
Maria
from SPV from Amsterdam to the club. We drive through the
massive
industrial complex that makes up the Ruhr. It is grey and
rusty and
more smokestacks than I have ever seen. Something tells me
that this
is the quintessential post-war Germany. Shows in this area
are
usually pretty rowdy, and tonight is no exception. We even
do an
encore. Our dressing room is crowded after the show, and we
are all
very happy.
01.03.04
I have never understood the hype of Amsterdam. To be honest
I have
bored myself to death there several times. Maybe it's because
I have
never been to fond of hash and stoned teenagers in designer
running-shoes. Sure it's a pleasant place and all, but people
seem so
godamned reserved. My lack of enthusiasm might be rooted in
the fact
that we never have done especially good in this city. Tonight
feels
like a rerun, come to the Melkweg club, get some food and
something
to read in the shops around Leidseplein, play the show, get
drunk
afterwards and fall asleep. We meet our friends Mike and Tony
Slug,
and we also meet the guy with tha camper-van that has a painting
of
Cpt Poon on the side. We get the best reception in Amsterdam
that we
have ever had, but it's still pretty civilised. We'll come
back, I
know that, something's gotta give someday.
29.02.02
Big businessclass club in Brüssel. Lots of space everywhere,
great
catering, great hall, great big stage. We pull it off pretty
good and
groove to the boogie- and pubrock compilation that Nicke Andersson
has made for Poon afterwards. Oskari visits the dark side
of the city
and comes back to us in shambles.
28.02.04
Back at Trabendo where Oskari once burnt a woolen sweater
that
someone on that tour had with him. He said he needed a release
after
being daylight robbed at some strip club on Pigalle the day
before.
The venue is in the Villette park, a futuristic affair that
looks
interesting. Oskari and I go to an exhibition featuring spatial
music. Far-out stuff. Inside a room there's a surround speaker
system
with eight speakers blaring out electronic noise. I lay down
on a
couch there, and after a whill I feel pretty dizzy.
Great show, we play with a lot of heart and not too much head.
Lots
of friendly people afterwards. We end up in a bar that's so
crowded
that you could get a handjob without anyone noticing it. Well,
almost
noone that is.
27.02.04
Off-day in Paris. Johnny and I go to the Orsay museum and
see the van
Goghs. Four hour meal at Bofinger brasserie in the evening,
oysters,
foie gras, sauerkraut, veal, steak tartare, apple sorbets,
crème
brulee, calvados, vieille prune, coffees, hotel room, weird
dreams.
26.02.04
Stuck for hours in a dressing room where they have turned
the heat
off. We and The Quill get three baguettes and some ham that
we have
to share. Cramped stage. At dinner time some softspoken asshole
promoter asks if he can show me the room where dinner is served.
When
he finds out I'm from Gluecifer he says quickly that there
is no food
for us. Oskari kicks a chair right across the hall, and promises
that
he will knock the guy out if we don't fed. Monstermagnet finds
out
about the bullshit and takes us to the dinner table where
we get what
is left. We look like animals when we eat. After the show
there's a
farewell party for the house cook. Pretty ironic. We scrounge
all the
beer and pizza we can find and manage to get a little buzz
going.
Jim from MM decks a bristish drunkard with one punch. In the
bathroom
someone has taken a big crap and not flushed. Next time I'm
in there
someone has taken a dump on top of the whole mess. Who are
these
people?
25.02.04
Wake up in Glasgow. Breakfast at an italian café. Very
good.
Everything is a rush at the club, no time for anything, no
room for
anything, we have to set up with Danny at the side of the
stage and
it looks stupid. We're pissed off and play an aggro and loud
show.
MM's tour manager buys us a case of beer and says he's sorry
for the
mess. Nice touch. Meet a couple of scittish friends afterwards
and
I'll be damned, there's even norwegians in the house. One
of them is
a Backstreet Girls fan from Åndalsnes. Danny and Johnny
go to see
David Lee Roth who also plays in Glasgow tonight. I think
I saw Danny
put on some rouge and wash his balls before he went. Monstermagnet's
dressingroom looks like Sodom, Gomorra, Dresden anno 1945
and Detroit
after their aftershow party. The nights ends with topnotch
Indian
takeout food and stained clothes.
24.02.04
After the noisy morning we eat a late great breakfast down
the road
from the hotel. We head for the venue, which is a beautiful
old
theatre called the Ambassador. Inside it is so cold that you
can see
your breath. I have Irish stew for dinner. The show is our
best so
far on this tour. Tim Cronin does lights for us, and it looks
killer.
Monstermagnet end their show with Dave W setting fire to a
guitar and
smashing it during Spine of God. Wagner!!! Afterparty with
skanky
girls after this show too. We get in the bus and head for
Belfast
where we will take a ferry over to Scotland. Our soundthech
Johnny
plays the new Black Debbath record for us. Very funny stuff.
After
that we watch a Slayer dvd and I fall asleep with Reign in
Blood
ringing in my ears.
23.02.04
Off day in Dublin, Oskari gets in the mood by starting the
day at
08.30 with two pints of Guiness, "the black milk of Ireland"
as he
calls it. Nice stroll through the city at daytime, Irish drinking
from late afternoon and into the small hours. I pick up a
copy of
"Electric Mud" by Muddy Waters. Some of us decide
to get rooms at a
hotel on Temple Bar. The hotel is a "boutique" affair,
read: small
rooms with weird furniture and designer wear for the staff.
The rest
heads back for a night on the bus, they are not a pretty sight
after
copious amounts of Guiness, Irish coffees, lager and vodka
tonics. We
eat some average food together with parts of Monstermagnet,
and get
to hear some war stories. I share a room with Raldo and construction
work outside our window keeps us awake from 0730 in the morning.
I
wanna kill somebody, but have to settle for a discount on
the room
price.
22.02.04
British weather is merciless. The cold sucks all the heat
out of your
body. The hall in Manchester feels like big cold prison cell.
We get
an English buffet in our dresing room; four brown bananas,
25 small
bags of crisps and two bags of mini candy bars. We eat breakfast
in a
museum café, shitty omelettes and good coffee. Monstermagnet
plays an
excellent show, the hall is packed, we are rewarded with strong
drinks in MM's dressing room after the show.
21.02.04
The first thing that meets us as we get into the club in Nottingham
is an overpowering smell of vomit. We head for the city pretty
quick,
Raldo buys a foot of records, I pick up two dvds, one with
Peter Cook
and Dudley Moore and Christopher Guest's "Best in Show"
Rock City is
an old school rock club with three separate rooms, one main
hall
where a rock disco takes over after the show, one punk room
and one
classic metal room. A great rowdy crowd and nice club staff
makes for
a good night. Afterwards there is a plethora of skanky girls
backstage, some of them with very active jaws.
20.02.04
Last time we played Wolverhampton 15 people came to see us.
At the
end of the show we were down to 12. Tonight is better. We
arrive
after taking the ferry from Kristiansand to Newcastle. We
get aboard
the boat with intentions of taking it easy, early to bed with
a book
etc. We end up pretty drunk trying to fight the intense boredom
you
only can experience on these shitty boats. A bartender comes
to our
table with some orange peel he has cut out to look like a
man. And
yes, the stem of the orange is the orange-man-penis. He insists
that
we turn it around so we can see that the man has a sphincter
too. The
bartender comes to our table a couple of more times and everytime
he
"accidentally" touches Poon. Tender sailor-man.
The Wolverhampton crowd looks very nu-metal. They enjoy the
rock
though. I get my picture taken with a fifty-year old guy that
sports
a beautiful silver mullet. Our merchman Oskari almost sells
a
Gluecifer shirt to a blind man that wanted to buy a monstermagnet
shirt. Raldo rants abour German prog-rock with Dave Wyndorf,
and Phil
Caivano tells us about his plan to make a record that sounds
like Def
Leppard's "Pyromania". Plenty of lukewarm beer keeps
the night
flowing.
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