See you next year

Anathema are in the studio putting the finishing touches to their new album which will be released in March of 2010. It looks like we won't be on the road (or in the air) again until then, so unless something turns up in the meantime I'll speak to you in the spring. Happy hibernation.

Beirut

It seems like we're back home before we've even set off, having flown out Friday afternoon and then back again only a couple of hours or so after the gig. I was in my local pub by one o'clock on Sunday afternoon enjoying a pint of John Smith's. There were a few foreheads on carpets on the plane to Lebanon - it must have been a designated prayer time or something, which makes me wonder if it's a time-zone specific activity or there's a global consensus as to when five o'clock is. If the former is true it must be tricky doing it on a plane, what with having to figure out where east is as well. What if the plane banks mid-invocation? Or you're suddenly one hour further forward than you were when you started praying? I'm sure they take all of that into consideration, and anyway it was of no concern to us - a fan among the cabin crew ensured we had a plentiful supply of beer and vodka, of which Mick took advantage to the fullest, his impassioned discourse on the merits or lack thereof of well-known actor Tom Cruise polarising opinion among nearby passengers.

After ages waiting for passports to be stamped on arrival we found one guitar had gone missing (still at Heathrow when we got back), which was a bit worrying as we hadn't brought a spare. Finnish support "To Die For" came good in the end by lending Danny a very nice Tokai Les Paul for the show - thanks fellas. There then followed a white-knuckle ride to the hotel where we met our Lebanese promoter, a Christian gentleman named, surprisingly, Jihad. It turns out he'd converted to Christianity after being raised in the Islamic faith but subsequently found himself more than a little disappointed by the actions of local extremists. I'd best not go any further into that, though I know what I would have done in his situation.

Jihad kindly took us to Abdel Wahab's pie and mash shop after we'd dropped our stuff at the hotel. I'm prepared to believe him that it's the best cuisine to be had in Beirut. In fact it was some of the finest food I've ever tasted, and I now know finally what hummus is supposed to taste like. What I wouldn't give for a doggy bag right now - some of that perfectly marinated lamb and the spinach with the crispy bits on top, or maybe the stuffed vine leaves and the other stuff with the crispy bits on top, or that sliced sausage.... delicious. The only down side (apart from the whole tiny birds which Vincent gamely tried) was that they brought us far more than we could possibly have eaten. I do hope it wasn't thrown away.

I have to say at this point that of all the countries I've visited Lebanon has the worst driving standards. There really doesn't seem to be any rules, at least not that I could make out, be they speed limits, road markings, giving way to other road users or indeed any form of common courtesy. I saw the odd traffic light but I couldn't figure out what their purpose was within a Lebanese context. Every journey was a pants-shitting experience, particularly the one after the concert when we narrowly escaped being attacked by an unruly mob, our driver thankfully speeding away before they could get their hands on us.

Before soundcheck Vincent was whisked away for an interview on Lebanese TV, and again had to field questions regarding satanic worship and suicide connected to the band's music. Yep, that old chestnut. It seems a local Catholic school had circulated a letter the previous day warning young people not to go to the gig as satanism would be practiced there, along with much taking of drugs and the spreading of the gothic "culture of death". The no cameras rule was a dead giveaway to them - let's keep it nice and secret eh? I'm willing to bet these idiots have never heard a single Anathema track in their ignorant, narrow-minded lives. Honestly, the sooner these superstitious morons fuck off and let the intelligent and open-minded young people, of whom they're so obviously terrified, have a crack at running things the better it'll be for everyone. Why can't people just mind their own damn business? Here's an opinion from someone closer to the action:

http://tony.codealife.com/blog-1/index.php/2009/11/cultural_segregation/

Anyway, there was a very enthusiastic and non satan-worshipping crowd at the (very big) Forum de Beyrouth, half Syrian judging by the cheer that went up. As luck would have it the set for the Lebanese TV show "1 vs 100" was under construction next door so a couple of bits of wood for pedal boards weren't too hard to come by. The local crew were all hugely helpful, the backline technician being a big Anathema fan so his day was made. Guitar tech George also deserves a special mention. It all went very smoothly and the crowd went nuts - it's always a pleasure to work a show where there's an appreciative and passionate audience. At about two in the morning we headed back to the hotel for approximately one hours sleep before the previously mentioned journey home to the pub. During the show Vincent expressed a wish to return to Lebanon in 2010, and to maybe take in Syria and Jordan whilst we're in the neighbourhood. That should ruffle a few feathers. We'll see what happens.

Hellfire Festival..

...attached to a music trade show at the annoyingly large Birmingham NEC, bloody miles away from the train station. When I got there it took a fair while to find someone who could give me a pass, but luckily I was just in time to witness the joys of Kiss covers band "Dressed To Kill". If one is going to form a tribute act, surely there's better acts to ape than Kiss for pity's sake? Maybe it's the dressing up that appeals. While we're on the subject, I want to get OC/DC together if anyone's interested - we'll take ages to set up our gear, making sure it's just right, then play the same riff over and over for the whole set. Anyway, after deciding I would ignore fake Paul Stanley's advice to catch them in Swindon in a couple of weeks I went for a wander around "Music Live" in the hall next door, an event which magically brought back all the horrors of seven years working in a guitar shop, then multiplied them by fifty. The place was full of men playing bad guitar solos. I hate guitar solos. Actually that's not strictly true - I hate the vast majority of guitar solos, but particularly those without accompaniment played by punters in music shops. Honestly, just play a chord - you'll know if you like it or not.

The show went well anyway, despite the ludicrous fifteen minute changeover time (nice of them to admit it was their amp that was faulty when the show was over). Warm Carlsberg (441) backstage this time, and no catering I might add. Shoddy.

Flying to Lebanon on Friday. That should be interesting.

Leeds Damnation Festival

A short trip from Anathema HQ to the near-impossible to find students union of Leeds university for a load more metal. The set up was pretty good though the beer provided in the dressing room was un-refridgerated Carling - drink number 473 (of 474) on my list of preferred post-show beverages. Electric Wizard, on before us, where the loudest noise of any kind I've ever heard, making preparations for our slot a bit of a headache, though the pedal boards I made on the last tour finally proved their worth in a festival setting. The show went very well despite Vincent utterly destroying his guitar cable during a mid-song stamp. Later I enjoyed Nicholas Barker's band Lock Up who generously shared their stage with those wishing to dive off it, the largest and most menacing of their number looking more like a sweaty man gingerly belly flopping into a child's paddling pool than whatever it was he imagined himself to be. Another ignored etiquette altogether, randomly flinging himself onto an unsuspecting female audience member, almost knocking her out in the process. Idiot.

Hellfire festival in Birmingham next.

Doesn't seem like there's much happening until the Leeds Damnation festival on October 24th. Until then, here's some photos:

Derelict station in Osnabruck

Fonofest Latvia

Brits abroad at Fonofest

A Latvian beer engine

Padlocks on a bridge in Riga

Monument in Riga

John and Vincent in Riga

Riga

Matt and our guide in Buenos Aires

Santiago

Santiago sculpture park

Halfords Santiago branch

Monument in Buenos Aires

The Andes shortly before our landing in Chile

Helsinki

Leaving Stockholm for Helsinki

Returning to Stockholm from Turku

Three things I learned on this tour:

1. Flies can survive an awful long time in a microwave. I discovered this when heating milk for a poor man's cappuccino one hung-over morning. I didn't realise there'd been one in there until I opened the door and it flew out, continuing about its business seemingly un-nuked.

2. Having spent much time in the company of our esteemed drivers, I now know that the 1970s English sitcom "On The Buses" was in fact a documentary.

3. Matt, our front-of-house sound man, has the worst musical taste of any human being in history.

Nijmegan

It's jolly nice to have spent the last few days in The Netherlands, the one country which I could quite easily consider moving to when I finally get sick of the UK, which when I think about it, is about five years ago. The venues and staff here have been excellent, though the manager of the Patronaat in Haarlem appears to have taken a course in advanced moaning as part of her vocational training. Yesterday I managed to pick up a bumper supply of Chocomel which, for those of you who have yet to try it, is the world's finest chocolate milk. This will fill my fridge when I return home, and I won't mind throwing out all the salad stuff to make room for it. I reckon ten litres should last me a couple of days or so. Got myself a nice little ante-room for guitar world today. It's nice to be tucked away out of sight sometimes.

Potsdam

By practicing the ancient art known as "dowsing for wifi" - basically wandering around with your laptop open - I have found one of the best hotspots so far - down by a river near an arts and museum complex, bathed in yet more September sunshine. It'll be good to get back to work later after two days off - too much leisure time on tour can be a bad thing. Work focuses the mind. The ferry back from Finland tested limits of sanity and self control. There's only so much geriatric Finnish karaoke one can listen to before considering violence. Happily, I managed to rid myself of all my Danish Krone on the crossing to Germany, blowing them all on a fish fillet dinner which was pretty tasty. Unlike other fellow travellers, I eschewed the wonders of the Reeperbahn in Hamburg last night, opting for a quiet night in with a film instead. Going to find some breakfast now.

Tampere

A hot and sticky gig in a smashing little venue which epitomised Finland for me - clean elegant surroundings, helpful friendly people and damn good food. It was so hot during the concert that during the intermission, in an effort to compose himself, Vincent lay flat on his back in the backstage area. Upon arising he left an imprint in perspiration that I can only describe in the following terms: Imagine Han Solo encased in carbonite, had The Empire Strikes Back been filmed as a gay porn movie....

Oulu

Pretty close to the Arctic circle here and it's still tee-shirt weather. A coke and a reindeer sandwich were fuel for today's load-in at a huge out-of-town venue that was once a sausage factory. Unlike the converted church in Gothenburg I'm not so sure that in this case it's a better use for a building, sausages being, in my opinion, one of mankind's greatest achievements. Another of those achievements is the automatic washing machine, an example of which I found tucked away in a small room in a far corner of the building, currently cleaning more than a week's worth of manky tour-togs. Bliss.

Finland

Sat in the sunshine on the waterfront in Helsinki after an utterly bizarre ferry crossing from Stockholm where we'd been parked for what seemed like an aeon, at least. One cannot begin to describe the forms of musical entertainment provided by Viking Line on the SS Gabriella, presumably tailored to ease our eighteen-hour passage across the Baltic, so I won't bother. Vincent summed it up perfectly though with the question, "have we taken drugs without realising it?" Both John and Les raised the karaoke bar by several notches with fine renditions of Elvis Presley and Tom Jones numbers respectively, leaving subsequent hapless performers to appear hackneyed and amateurish by comparison. The photograph shows Les sporting correct head and eye-wear as recommended for such a voyage.

Made some pedalboards today....

One for Danny:

...one for Vincent:

...and one for Jay:

Courtesy of our helpful stand-in driver...

Gothenberg

After last night's nightmare with Vincent's pedals I'm pleased to report that (so far) tonight's gig is passing without major incident, taking place in a venue occupying a building that was previously a church - how nice to see it being used for a more worthwhile purpose. Several fellow travellers reported a fitful rest in their bunks during this morning's journey from Oslo to Gothenburg. I myself dreamed I'd designed a stage set for the band which incorporated a water feature with floating chess pieces, positioned just behind the lead singer. Fuck knows what that means. New arrival Tim is our stand-in driver for the next few days while John flies home for a scan on his knackered back. A day off is to be enjoyed in Stockholm tomorrow.

My glee at ridding myself of the 50 Krone in Copenhagen was to be short-lived, what with it being too late for a kebab after the show and driver John being eager to get on the road and Oslo-bound. I therefore have left Denmark with 97 of their Krone, 47 more than when I arrived. It's a buy out again tonight so knowing my luck I'll end up with a pocket full of Norwegian shitters as well, their sole purpose being to taunt me when I'm skint back home in London.

Getting into the swing of things now, having just finished setting up the stage in Copenhagen. Last night's gig in Malmo was a success, the airing of a new song ("Universal") going down particularly well. I finally managed to get rid of the 50 Danish Krone I've been carrying with me for the past ten months, a local branch of Aldi being chosen both for its proximity to the bus and its plethora of cheap snackables. Normally the cash would have gone on beer but it was early and to be honest it'd been burning a hole in my pocket for the best part of a year. It's a buy-out for dinner this evening so a visit to the local kebab shop, about which I've heard many good things, is in order.

Parked up in Bremen for the night enjoying a beer and currywurst. The ferry crossing was surprisingly smooth, unsurprisingly boozy. Nursing a hangover, Matt left his phone on board. It would be an invaluable find for one planning to make the leap from cabin cleaner to PA and sound reinforcement provider, what with all the contacts he has on there. Let's hope he gets it back. Spent much of today on the bus watching Penn and Teller's show "Bullshit", which is highly recommended, and banging my head on the skylight, which is not. It does take a couple of days to get your bearings on a new bus. I'm growing very fond of the little window in my bunk. I might see if I can find some tiny net curtains and lego window boxes when we get to Denmark, just to make it a bit more homely.

Finally on the road after couple of setbacks. We're now heading to Hull for the north sea ferry (and a pretty rough crossing by the sound of things) - the original Harwich/Denmark plan scuppered due to the bus breaking down twice before it had even picked us up. Still, that gave us ample time to make sure we had all the essentials for the tour, for example: two model helicopters and a unicycle. It also meant we were able to take delivery of one Les Paul guitar, finally reunited with its owner after an extended furlough in Tunisia. The bus is very nice indeed, having a proper downstairs pub and upper viewing deck where I sit writing this. We have little windows in the bunks as well which will make all the difference (or at least half of it).

Incidentally, it has come to my attention that an as-yet unnamed member of Anathema is writing a rival blog for the duration of this excursion. Any acts of blatant plagiarism on his part should be reported directly to me via the comments section on this page. Thank you for your cooperation

Scandinavia

So we're setting sail for northern lands, starting tomorrow with a twenty-hour ferry crossing to Denmark and then on to Sweden for the first gig on Sunday. I'm really looking forward to this. As far as I'm concerned you can keep your sweltering Mediterranean heat - I want pine forests, pickled herring and meatballs.

Here is the itinerary:

06 September malmo KB
07 September copenhagen vega
08 September oslo john dee
09 September gothenburg sticky fingers
11 September stockholm klubben
13 September helsinki nosturi
14 September oulu teatria
15 September tampere klubi
18 September potsdam waschhaus
19 September osnabruck kleine freiheit
20 September zoetermeer boerderij
21 September haarlem patronaat
22 September nijmegen doornroosje
23 September vosselaar biebob

Athens airport waiting for the connection to Heathrow - flight number thirty-three since August last year. Chania was very nice, though roasting. The gig, in an athletics stadium, was good despite a couple of minor incidents. For example, while innocently photographing the rickety stage before soundcheck I was accused of taking pictures of the monitor engineer's daughter's arse, which I can assure you was absolutely not the case, though this did not stop the promoter from hassling me all day for a copy. Later, after the show, I had to accost a punter who'd stolen a tuner pedal from the stage - he handed it back without protesting claiming he'd only taken it because I wouldn't give him a drum stick as a souvenir!?

Next stop - a tour of Scandinavia in September.

Chania

Yes, I was right. It's bloody hot.

Nothing doing...

...'til the Chania rock festival in Crete on August 8th. Blimey, it'll be hot.

After a pleasant evening's eating and drinking in the lovely city of Riga we headed off through a landscape of seemingly endless forest to the Fonofest - a bit like a heavy metal jamboree in a wooded clearing. Sadly it was pretty sparsely attended - a shame as it was organised by some very nice enthusiastic young Latvians who let us have a country house for the night. I hope it was enough of a success to warrant many more - those in attendance were having a whale of a time. Jamie very kindly toured the site offering strawberries to the punters, advertising his wares by having them smeared on his face, an approach which left many wary as to the motive behind his display of fruit-based altruism.

We arrived at the With Full Force festival near Leipzig to the sound of Motorhead playing and Les wondering loudly why we weren't pissed (he'd gone ahead as part of the advance drinking party). It was a standard German rock festival - big and well organized. Anathema played at half past one in the morning but plenty of people stayed to listen. The stage crew were pretty tetchy but that's hardly surprising as they'd been there for three days dealing with petulant musicians and road crew who'd forgotten to bring mains adaptors (for example).

Poland this weekend.

Riga

Waiting for everyone to emerge from their rooms so we can head out for some food in Riga's old town where our hotel is conveniently located. Perhaps we'll head for "Hospitalis" where diners sit in gynaecologists' chairs at an operating table while waitresses dressed as nurses spoon feed them "curious European cuisine variations." Or maybe "Gauja", a "tiny cafe that brings back memories of the Soviet way of life during the 70s." There, one can eat authentic Soviet era cuisine served on authentic plates whilst listening to cold war era Soviet music, all the while tended to by waiters wearing period clothing. Steak and chips will do for me.

The photo above (look carefully - that's a magazine she's holding) was taken on the train from London to Leeds.

Fonofest and With Full Force...

Heading off for the weekend, first to Latvia for the Fonofest, then to the "With Full Force" festival in Leipzig. If anything interesting or amusing happens I promise you'll be the first to know.

It looks like Anathema's return visit to Tunisia is going to happen later rather than sooner. Please refer to the band's official site for any news regarding future performances.

Best regards

Darryl

Looking back at the South American tour it was pretty good fun on the whole. I must be unique in having had a flu bug a couple of days before heading to Mexico, only to then get rid of it whilst there. For me South America was a continent full of cool trucks, in all shapes, sizes and states of repair. A lot of vehicles are personalised in some way - from trinkets on the bumpers to full-on elaborate paint jobs. In Buenos Aires it seems a sign writer can make a pretty good living painting up the local buses. I imagine beef farmers can't be short of work there either. It's quite amazing what they'll allow on the roads in Mexico City - accident repair centres must follow the "no job too large" business ethos en masse. Internal flights between shows put European airlines to shame - the facilities on a two hour flight with Lan aced out those on the Iberian long hauls with ease. By the way, stern Iberia stewardess, three small cans of lager do not constitute "too much alcohol on a plane", particularly when there's still seven hours of flying to be endured. As expected we didn't have much of a chance to get stuck in to South America - our experience being airports, hotels and gigs as usual, but it was well worth it nonetheless. Unfortunately we had to do the entire trip without trusty drum tech "International" Mick Reed, so were forced to do as best we could when encountering non-English speakers, though I think we got by without causing too much embarrassment or offence. I sincerely hope to go back to South America someday, hopefully with a few more days off to have a wander about. Until then, it seems we're heading back to Tunisia at the end of the month so stay tuned for more news.

Chile

Just finished setting up the stage in a bloody big sports arena in Santiago. We're staying in the Sheraton which is a little too posh for us in my opinion, particularly since our trip from the airport took us past many shanty towns. The weather has been beautiful - warm and sunny - though our promoter assures us that it's supposed to be cold and global warming is to blame. In light of recent events over the Atlantic everyone's feeling a little nervous about the fourteen hour flight to Madrid tomorrow. A few ales before take-off might be in order.

Argentina

Feeling nicely refreshed after a day off in Buenos Aires where there's a decidedly autumnal feel to the place. It rained all day yesterday but that didn't stop Matt and I heading off for a spot of sight-seeing with local helpful chap Dennis who took us to a couple of monuments and the old port. After a record store signing session we were driven to a restaurant (more a temple for the worship of meat) for some dinner and then back to bed. All very boring really but just what was required after the last few days traveling. From now on the schedule is pretty relaxed with flights at reasonable hours and (hopefully) decent venues with proper facilities. A couple of the band are feeling a little under the weather but that's hardly surprising considering the amount of time spent on aircraft and the hours we've been keeping. Our arrival at airports is usually met with masked doctors frantically collecting health questionnaires filled in during transit (do you have any of the following symptoms: fever, sore throat, aching limbs, etc) while passengers are filmed with thermal cameras and police stand by, presumably to arrest the infirm. It's invariably a snaking melee of irate travellers as queue management is non-existent and immigration and customs still await. Not what you want after a long flight. Still, it could have been worse, we might have been flying on one of these:

Ecuador

All a bit hectic really, what with flying in and playing on the same day. The venue was as described and lacking in many basic health and safety areas (must not stink of diesel being one of them), though it meant Vincent finished the concert in dramatic fashion, flat on his back after an electric shock from his effects pedals. Quito seems a nice town, though the sight of a dirty two-year-old kid wandering alone next to a main road without a care in the world was a little jarring, particularly since we were enjoying the luxury of the Hilton Colon hotel. Sleep patterns can now only be described as farcical, though the schedule means we can relax for a couple of days on arrival in Buenos Aires. We're flying via Peru so dramatic scenery should be available to those interested along the way.

Waiting for our connecting flight to Ecuador in a most mellow departure lounge in San Jose, Costa Rica. We all wish we were getting off here - it looks ace. The Mexico gig was well received by the most enthusiastic audience I've ever seen and therefore can be classed "worth the effort". I've lost all concept of time and distance now but it doesn't really matter any more. We're straight off the plane to the venue in Quito today (a brick hut if rumours are to be believed) but after that it's two days off in Buenos Aires.

Mexico

It seems like I fell asleep in London, had a seemingly never-ending nightmare about planes, then woke up feeling knackered in Mexico. It turns out this is all true, apart from the falling asleep bit. Twelve hours on a plane is a long time, and I was awake for every sodding second of it (not to mention the previous connecting flight as well). There were some breathtaking sights as we flew over the Bahamas though (see above). It was pretty chaotic at Mexico City airport - wheelchair-bound officials were helped by thermal imaging cameras to spot fever to make sure no-one had swine flu, while sniffer dogs looked diligently for naughty stuff in baggage. Customs officials invited everyone to play the "press the button" game - you press a button - a green light means pass through, a red light means you're searched. All passed except Danny, though he didn't get too much hassle. The drive to the hotel was nuts as expected - no driving regulations to speak of and some very interesting vehicles. Nice food at the hotel, though the fact that the peso and dollar signs are so similar had me wondering if we were in one of the worlds most expensive restaurants ($178.00 for a steak!?).

Off to the venue now. Lets see what awaits.

Slobbing around for a week in London before heading off for Mexico and South America next Tuesday. The Spanish leg of the recent tour was a bit of a drag - none of the venues were particularly great and most were in the industrial outskirts as usual. Alicante was nice though, Danny somehow getting the audience swaying along to an impromptu rendition of "The Jolly Pieman" - a bizarre sight, footage of which may appear on Youtube. I would highly recommend Portugal to anyone who's never been. I'd always imagined a bit more Spain with a different name but couldn't have been more wrong. Most on the bus seemed pleased to be heading home by the end of the tour - sound man Ian Bond itching to get to LA and his missus, the band bungalow-bound to put the finishing touches to the album. I on the other hand am happy doing absolutely nothing.

Cheers.

In Granada at a classic industrial estate venue. It's been raining so hopefully life on the bus will be a little more bearable than yesterday in Madrid. Unfortunately the schedule means we haven't had too much time to explore, though Vincent has been making sure he takes in some art when he has the chance. Nothing particularly blog-worthy has happened to be honest - the shows have been well attended and well received, the drives between cities smooth and uneventful. I did get left behind at a service station but a quick phone call sorted that out. Oh yeah, I think I might have lost a couple of cables but I'm not sure. Maybe something exciting awaits us in Alicante.

Portugal/Spain

Having a morning cuppa in the new Traveller's Arms (not quite as charming as our last mobile local but we're working on it) on "the Cream Machine" while driver John steers us through big open plains and the odd town towards Bilbao after shows in Lisbon and Porto. I like the new bus, mainly because there's only ten of us on board this time. The bunks are a little bigger and the toilet has rocks in it (either turd deterrent or ornamental piss-feature, we can't decide which) but on the whole it's business as usual. Portugal is a great country - like a grander version of Spain. We had a spectacularly tasty meal by the waterfront in Lisbon, enjoyed to the sound of a swarm of giant hornets (actually traffic noise from the nearby bridge) and then headed for the old town to sample the traditional Portuguese drink known locally as "a bucket of vodka with ice in it". Les' birthday was celebrated after the Lisbon show with a huge cake and happy birthday sung repeatedly to him by a nutter. Porto is a typographer's dream - elegant buildings with cool lettering and neon signs everywhere you look. Multi-skilled Mick Reed joined fine support act Leafblade with his djembe drum last night, managing to squeeze in rehearsals during breaks from his new job as chief lampshade designer for the tour.

Romania

Flew in to Bucharest, stayed in a hotel, had some beers and food, Anathema played to a couple of thousand people in a big hall, then we flew home again.

Touring Portugal and Spain starting Monday and we're on a bus again. Hope it's as much fun as last time.

A most agreeable way to record guitar.

Just come back from the pub - my first "leisure time" in a week. It was jolly nice to read the paper over a pint on a warm spring evening in Yorkshire. Speaking of springtime, there's an awful lot of rabbits running around outside the bungalow, all quite cute with their white tails bobbing about the place, though I can't help imagining what they'd be like in a spicy Sicilian tomato sauce with some crusty bread to dip in. Mick has very kindly supplied us with a motorcycle and mountain bike for our recreational and transportation needs while isolated here, bringing the shops a little closer, but providing less of a chance to say hello to the horses tied up by the roadside along the way. I'm going to buy the poor things some carrots tomorrow. Plenty has been done recording-wise since our return to the UK - the tracking for the album is rapidly nearing completion. Les is doing some rough mixes for record company and management ears. It's nice to hear the songs in an almost complete form - so much of recording involves listening to little snippets as you try to nail a particular vocal part or whatever. We've had news that visits to Colombia and Brazil might be added to our South American trip in May making the whole thing pretty bonkers flights-wise. Not good news for notorious aviation-phobe Matt.

The photo shows the big board in the studio, pictured some time ago I might add.

The Tunisian escapade made it into the papers back home in England, namely the Liverpool Echo and The Sun!

http://www.liverpoolecho.co.uk/liverpool-news/local-news/2009/04/10/the-devil-s-in-the-detail-for-city-band-100252-23357537/

I'm with Anathema in the studio for a couple of weeks (currently recording Vincent's vocals) so I might write something about it if anybody's interested - just waiting for something blog-worthy to happen. Knowing this lot I won't be waiting too long.

How about that?

I just had a call from Ahmed, our esteemed promoter in Tunisia, telling me that the missing guitar has been found! Apparently he received an anonymous tip-off pointing him towards an area of woodland close to the Acropolium where he found the damn thing sitting there. I still can't quite believe it. Many, many thanks to all those in Tunisia who did so much to help find the guitar - your efforts obviously pricked a guilty conscience.

Cheers!

Back home...

...in London for a few days before heading back to the bungalow to help Anathema finish the album. We returned from Tunisia minus one rather expensive Les Paul guitar which in all likelihood went missing from the Acropolium sometime between Friday and Monday when we were denied access. Also one piece of hold baggage was removed from the connecting flight to Manchester in Paris. This happened to be Jay's bass, so we're down two guitars on the deal. The bass is traceable fortunately. So if any of you good people in Tunisia come across a wine red flame top Gibson Les Paul in a black Gibson case, possibly with an Anathema sticker on it, I'd be awfully grateful if you'd let me know. You can leave a message on this blog.

What a massive pain in the arse that all was then. In spite of everything though, I'd like to say that I and the band have nothing against the Tunisian people - what happened during our visit was a series of unfortunate events. We would like nothing better than to return to play the concert, which judging by the fans we met will be an amazing event. All being well Anathema will return sometime very soon so keep your eyes peeled for news. In the meantime, the next stop is Romania on April 29th.

See you in a couple of weeks.

After four days at the hotel waiting "just one hour more" for authorisation or whatever, the gig has finally officially been cancelled (not by the band of course). We've been up to the venue and removed all the guitars and keyboards we set up on Friday, all the while watched by disbelieving fans, who one assumes experienced this same disappointment just two days ago. It's such a shame for all the Tunisian fans (and of course those who travelled from elsewhere). We don't really know why this happened and who really was to blame - there's been a lot of talk and a lot of silence surrounding the whole affair. The one thing that is certain is that Anathema will be back to play in Tunisia in the not-too-distant future.

Until then, bye for now.

For the record

I'd like to make it clear that this blog is not intended to be an official source of information regarding any of the bands for whom I work or any other persons mentioned in any of the posts, merely a series of (hopefully entertaining) anecdotes about life on the road with Anathema and others. I hope it is read in the same spirit with which it is written.

Cheers

Darryl

To all the Anathema fans who travelled to Carthage to find the concert postponed: myself, the rest of the crew, the promoters and the band tried everything in our power to make it happen but sadly were prevented from doing so by circumstances beyond our control. We'll do all we can to put on a great show for you tomorrow evening.

Hope to see you there.

There were a great many angry fans at the venue on Saturday evening and quite rightly so. Many had travelled a great distance and won't be able to make the Monday re-schedule. In an attempt to make amends Danny and Vincent put on a great little acoustic show in the hotel bar for around fifty lucky fans and a few unsuspecting guests. Our promoter Ahmed has assured us the gig will go ahead on Monday once the correct paperwork has been presented to the correct people. So we found ourselves with a day off today and headed to Sidi Bou Said for a prolonged high-pressure sales pitch from the local hawkers and shopkeepers. I almost had to buy a bronze horse just to escape with my life. It's a lovely little town, all white and blue due to some strange local bye law, though sadly lacking in places to enjoy a cool beer. Everyone's back at the hotel now, starving and waiting for the restaurant to open.

Okay, now this is good. The gig has been postponed until Monday evening and we have been denied entry to the concert venue, having arrived this morning to find a police guard at the entrance. Our promoter informed us that somebody, in an attempt to scupper the project, has told the Tunisian interior ministry that Anathema are Satan worshippers who eat black cats and drink their blood (but draw the line at kissing their anuses - see earlier post from Blois). The ministry have requested song lyrics to peruse over the weekend in order to put their minds at rest. We're now sitting down to a nice dinner (courtesy of our apologetic promoter) while someone heads up to the venue to break the news to the disgruntled fans. We'll have to see what happens on Monday.

Waiting in the hotel lobby for the bus to the venue. We were told to be here at 9am and it's now 11.30. This whole thing is starting to fall apart. The missing bag is still not here and they now have Les's passport. Also, the Carthage sewer system is having to work overtime due to something dodgy on the menu last night. There may not be a gig.

Carthage.

Things are not really going to plan here. We're still waiting for one bag that got left at the airport (complimentary drinks from Air France to blame) and we were denied today's soundcheck as there's a dispute about whether we're allowed to make any noise or not. We're heading back at 9am to see if there's going to be a gig. All the equipment supplied is a little low-spec - it's a bit like a "my first gig" play set. Still, the venue is spectacular, inside and out.

On the upside the hotel is posh and we've all got our own rooms and the dinners are great. Bafflingly, the place is full of people recovering from nose jobs. Regular sound man Matt is revealing his mental age (six) with his Dastardly and Muttley dvds, photos of a rocket he's building and a stupid hat he's planning to wear while mixing (see above).

At the bungalow of rock.

I'm heading off to the ancient city of Carthage with Anathema in a couple of days after having spent the last two weeks at their studio-in-a-bungalow in Yorkshire, helping them to record their much anticipated new album. It's sounding pretty good so far, thanks in part to the fine engineering skills of Les Smith. The bungalow is an odd place to be - a twenty minute walk from the nearest shops or pub (note the singular), in neither town nor countryside, sat in the middle of a scratty building site next to a golf course by the M62. The sense of isolation felt by those who have spent any length of time there becomes graphically apparent when one notices how faces light up at the prospect of a drive to the nearest Asda, usually courtesy of Les and his big van. On arrival at the supermarket everyone usually heads straight for the "Whoops!" counter, unless of course they bump into, say, a member of My Dying Bride as happened just the other day. Asda appears to be the store of choice for the budget-conscious local metal musician. Some form of endorsement deal might not be a bad idea.

Anyway, the "Whoops!" counter contains all the reduced stuff that's on or near its sell by date, and they don't half knock it down you know (green beans for one pence?), unlike tight-arsed Tesco's on Stroud Green Road back home. The thing I don't get is why they put a sticker saying "Whoops!" on a reduced item as if they've somehow made a mistake in not selling it at the full price, rather than having been merely unfortunate not to do so as is more than likely the case. In reality, writing "Damn it!" or "Bollocks!" on the sticker would more accurately reflect the circumstances by which the item came to be there. "Whoops!" is what old ladies say when they spill tea. Don't beat yourselves up Asda, it's not your fault.

So, Tunisia on Thursday afternoon for a gig in a big old ancient cathedral. More information will follow.

Alencon

Fittingly or ironically, the last show of this little tour with Ruby Throat is taking place in the bar of a curiously shaped arts centre in Alencon where concert promoters, venue owners and other operators within the music industry are gathered for a conference to try to figure out what the hell they're going to do now the government is withdrawing massive amounts of funding for the arts. I've really grown to like this country and its people over this past couple of weeks. We've been well looked after by friendly people who have uniformly gone out of their way to make us comfortable and welcome, cook us nice meals, ply us with drink and generally take a great deal of pride in what they do for a living, i.e running really great little concert venues and arts centres for the benefit of their communities and the country as a whole. It seems a lot of these people will find themselves unemployed or closing their doors within the next year or so which is a damn shame. They're not, as could easily be assumed, a bunch of arty layabouts taking advantage of a generous pot of cash from a well meaning government. As far as I can see they work hard to uphold the fine French tradition of treating culture as something as important as health care and good sanitation, even as the odds mount against them. Apparently we're only talking about zero-point-three per-cent of the national budget here as well. I really hope things will not be as bad as people fear - the venues we've visited are the lifeblood of a band like Ruby Throat who would struggle to make money touring in the UK. And apart from anything else I really want to come back here and do this all over again.

Having said all that, the main band this evening were a completely bizarre mixture of Boyzone, Crosby Stills and Nash and the Osmonds, and they were only about twenty years old. And on top of that there's still the worrying matter of the French jazz-funk fixation. Thinking about it, maybe they only have themselves to blame.

Next stop: Tunisia with Anathema in early April. Bye for now.