Switzerland

It was jolly nice being in Switzerland for a couple of days - it's amazing how much the catering improves the nearer you get to Germany. As usual the chef (Barbara) at the Z7 in Pratteln cooked up some smashing grub, highlights being the home (or venue)-made vegetable soup and the fish-filled pastry parcels. Onstage hassles with cables and suchlike marred the previous evening's performance at the Rocking Chair in Vevey, though the equipment was so well behaved the following day (in front of film cameras as well) that I've decided to take it all out for a Mcdonalds when I get the chance. It looks like we'll be in a different venue in Bulgaria on the 20th as the roof has collapsed at the one we were supposed to be playing.

Vevey

In a break from the usual format of this page, today's post is given over entirely to monitor man Matthew Rowley's account of his dream of the previous evening:

According to Matthew, our entire entourage were in a narrow corridor in some hotel/theatre hybrid. For reasons unknown, our task was to remove all the plaster from the walls, an act which revealed a bank of soil behind. Using a fork as a digging tool, Matthew himself uncovered a small portal from which countless centipedes began to emerge. Utilising the previously mentioned fork, he pulled out one of the centipedes, splitting the poor thing in half in the process. We took half of the creature to an entomologist who was situated, rather conveniently it might be added, at the end of the corridor, and he confirmed that it was indeed a centipede and that we should put it back where we found it. Unfortunately, before we had a chance to do so, another "fucking massive" centipede emerged, forcing us to sprint for the bus and make a speedy getaway to the next venue on our tour. After some time we arrived at the hotel where our next gig was to take place. It was staffed entirely by people in Edwardian dress (including one particularly sinister gentleman with a pipe), and resembled the famous establishment from the movie "The Shining". We were asked to surrender our passports upon arrival and were given green ones as a replacement. Matthew soon found himself in his attic bedroom where in the corner there lurked a human skeleton. This didn't seem to bother him much as he took the opportunity to speak with some of the other hotel guests who appeared nervous and jittery. Rather worryingly, they told Matthew that if we didn't get the hell out of there we would all be killed and used a fuel for a steam train whose purpose it was to convey the hotel staff to a place where they could find food. Apparently anything was fair game to power the train - a grand piano and sundry items of furniture were seen being stuffed unceremoniously down the funnel.

Intermission. Well, I need one.

Escape became our first priority. The skeleton at this point revealed itself to be Les, who'd been planning an escape by utilising springs attached to his knees (what the hell?). This prompted Matthew to cover himself entirely in icing sugar, a disguise rendering him white in hue, and to climb out of the window and shimmy around the ledge in an attempt to get to the lobby. Upon arrival there, Danny sprinted by wearing a French maid's outfit (??), making good his escape. At this point I appeared, extremely perturbed due to my lack of two green passports which I could exchange for my own, thus securing my release. Still covered in icing sugar, Matthew selflessly and heroically gave his passports to me, allowing me to join my colleagues on the waiting bus. What was Matthew to do? The sinister man with the pipe approached, intent on causing him some serious harm. Matthew then opened his coat to reveal he was wearing rather a lot of high explosives. Calling his bluff, the sinister man appeared nonchalant about our hero's threat, a tactic which literally blew up in his face. Matthew, the sinister man and the entire hotel were gone, the rest of us saved by this noble act of self-sacrifice.

Matt, you need to see a shrink.

Granada

We find ourselves at the rather run-down El Tren club in Granada, a venue visited by us only last year, and which has somehow managed to get even crappier since. Frankly the entire place is falling to bits, and Vincent worryingly reported seeing cockroaches in the shower. A couple of our entourage have reported intestinal discomfort during our journey through the Iberian peninsula, a couple of close calls having narrowly been avoided with impromptu roadside stops, the bus's onboard toilet being out of bounds for anything other than liquids. In fact, one unnamed bus-mate found himself having to fashion a makeshift lavatory out of a cardboard box this morning (that reminds me of a song - "Am I shitting in a box? Am I shitting in a cardboard box?") in the car park of the El Tren when such an emergency presented itself. Just as relief was assured the van carrying support act Slamo pulled through the gates. Perfect timing I would say, though that's hardly surprising as one-time Anathema stand-in Daniel Cardoso is their drummer. The photo shows "Gimp-affe" (well, you explain the one-piece leather suit) which has become something of an unofficial tour mascot.

Seville

The second gig of four in Spain and unsurprisingly the venue facilities have taken a rapid nosedive and show times have got progressively later. For example, the gig in Granada will in fact be taking place the following day, the band expected on stage at around twelve-thirty am. Hot running water seems to be a scarce commodity here, as does toilet paper. Eagles aren't though. We often see huge ones wheeling in the sky as we drive from one show to the next, a most pleasant sight that I'm not used to back home.

Portugal

Les, Matt, Brian and myself only just made it in time for the show in a beautiful big theatre in Lisbon, having missed our flight from Liverpool after being caught in massive traffic on the trusty old M62. We ended up dashing down to Gatwick for replacement passage on a TAP airbus which got us there with just an hour to spare. The band had found themselves having to set their own stage as a result, and whilst their efforts were commendable they fell some way short of the standards I rigorously impose upon myself. Having said that, I can't sing anywhere near as well as Vincent.

We awoke parked by the sea in Porto the following morning, Jay almost finding himself in it (see photo). It was a spectacular swell coming straight in from the Atlantic, hitting the harbour wall in great explosions of water, and taking me back to the times I spent as a kid dodging the best the North Sea could throw at us in East Yorkshire.

Leg 2

A week and a half off, feeling kind of refreshed, and off I pop again, this time covering southern and eastern Europe with a bit of Balkan action thrown in, not to mention the odd Alp here and there. I'm armed with a shiny new Macbook Pro so regular posts are to be expected, unless of course someone swipes the bugger. Woe betide anyone who so much as looks at it.

Here's how leg two looks:

02-11-2010 Teatro Tivoli, Lisbon, Portugal
03-11-2010 Hard Club, Porto, Portugal
04-11-2010 Penelope, Madrid, Spain
05-11-2010 Sala Q, Seville, Spain
06-11-2010 El Tren, Granada, Spain
07-11-2010 Salamamdra 1, Barcelona, Spain
09-11-2010 Rocking Chair, Vevey, Switzerland
10-11-2010 Z7, Pratteln, Switzerland
11-11-2010 Estragon, Bologna, Italy
12-11-2010 Alpheus, Rome, Italy
13-11-2010 New Age, Treviso, Italy
14-11-2010 Magazzini Generali, Milan, Italy
15-11-2010 Boogaloo Club, Zagreb, Croatia
16-11-2010 Listhalle, Graz, Austria
17-11-2010 Viper Room, Vienna, Austria
18-11-2010 Diesel Club, Budapest, Hungary
19-11-2010 Arenele Romane, Bucharest, Romania
20-11-2010 Blue Box Club, Sofia, Bulgaria
22-11-2010 Randall, Bratislava, Slovakia
23-11-2010 Exit Chmelnice, Prague, Czech Republic

Antwerp

Our rare and highly collectable tour passes:

Eindhoven

Second of the Dutch dates and Les finally gets the office he deserves. You'll generally find him tucked away in some dingy, brutally lit hole in the bowels of any given venue, hunched in front of his laptop taking care of the intricate and demanding bureaucracy of touring. Not today though. In Eindhoven he is king of his domain, floor to ceiling windows bathing the workspace in drab autumnal light and providing a commanding view for those moments of relaxation and contemplation when the mind is free to ponder such things as Jack Daniels, cheap cigs and midi. So here's to you Les - keyboarder, tour manager, sound engineer, driver, bank, agony aunt, travel agent, arbitrator, arse-displayer, booze-touretter and all round sorter-outer. Enjoy it, you deserve it

Saarbrucken

I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that having a "Wales - Land of my Fathers" (surely that should be "our fathers?") scarf on tour is almost as massively useful as Ford Prefect's towel was in the late Dougls Adams' Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. You can kneel on it, stick it in your tool box so the contents don't shift in transit, wipe up beer spills with it, polish guitars with it, wipe a patriotic tear from a bass player's eye with it, and if you're really pushed, wear it around your kneck when it gets cold.

Cheers Felix from Leipzig!

Paris

A big show in the Elysee Montmartre, an old theatre somewhere in this great mess of a city with about fifteen hundred punters expected. Petter is a little nervous, bless him, so I reminded him that all guitarists are show-offs at heart and that he shouldn't have any trouble, being as sickeningly talented as he is.

I've found the perfect use for my Wales scarf, when Jay isn't draping it over his amp in an act of patriotic fervour that is (I thought the surname Cavanagh would have given him Irish ancestry). Anyway, I employ the aforementioned kneckwear as a handy hassock, making the act of kneeling to gaffer cables and pedals to the stage a far less arduous experience.

I write this on a laptop kindly loaned to me by our driver so posts should be a little more frequent for the rest of the tour. Cheers Tim.

Wurtzburg

Show number two of the German bit. We spent our day off after the Krakow show parked up at Auschwitz and took the opportunity to have a good look around, both there and at Birkenau (Auschwitz 2) a little way down the road. If you ever get the chance  go and have a look - it's a most sobering experience, and a reminder of how very close we are to quite staggering acts of inhumanity given the right (or wrong) set of circumstances.

Boredom kicked in big time in Leipzig the following day what with the lack of laptop, early load-in and having only one guitar to restring. Luckily we had ping-pong, pool and table football close to hand in the great little Anker venue. I had a bit of a kick around outside with a couple of the local kids as well, one of whom insisted on running home to get a present for me. He came back with a "Wales - Land of my Fathers" football scarf - a baffling gift I found quite touching. It was Dan's birthday but he didn't seem to chuffed to be another year older. Hope you had a good birthday mate.

Krakow

It's been a few gigs since my last post as I couldn't muster the required effort after having my laptop stolen in Oslo. Still, one mustn't dwell on such things. I have most of my stuff backed up and there were no bank details or other sensitive info on there. Enjoy your new computer dick head.

So, we've been to Arhus, Berlin and Warsaw since the last post and it's been pretty much sleep, load in, gig, load out, sleep, load in, etc, etc. There's been a bit of time for post-gig merriment on the bus but my merry-making has been of the quick night cap and straight to bunk variety. Nevertheless, it always seems to be four in the morning before I get there. Luckily I have a few series of Count Arthur Strong's Radio Show on my phone to listen to so all is not lost entertainment-wise.

I found a good answer for the occasions when the tour manager asks if you have any more names for the guest list. Simply reply, "Yes, sometimes I call it the friends register." Guaranteed to raise a titter. The more you say it the more the TM will love it.

We have a day off tomorrow and it looks like we'll be having a look around Auschwitz.

Laptop stolen from venue in Oslo. Gutted. Normal service will resume presently.

Oslo

It turned out the bus still wasn't ready for us so Tim had to find yet another replacement to get us to Norway, and it's a bit shitty to be fair. Still, any port in a storm. It's the first I've been on with bunks three-high so there's not a great deal of headroom to be had, and those sleeping at the top require skills in mountaineering to reach theirs. What it does have is a larger forward seating area and this became the setting for the inaugural Anathema tour bus pub quiz, won by Les and John with a cracking score of nineteen (out of forty - perhaps some of the questions were a bit tough). They won eleven (yes, eleven) Euros to do with as they wish, and Les is going to compile the next one in a week's time. So much more civilized than the previous evening's leisure pursuits. The bus is now fixed and on it's way to rendezvous with us in Oslo, so it looks like we can finally settle in to our rightful home and hopefully stay on it for the rest of the tour.

Vasteras

We're holed up in a hotel in Sweden - Tim has gone to drop the bus off and the other will be here around midnight, apparently, so we have more than a little time to kill. Jay and new shop girl Brian have sloped off on free bikes while the rest of us have set up a makeshift computer club in the bar. Anyway, it seems it was a far more eventful night on the ferry than I'd realised. I turned in early as I rapidly grew tired of listening to fat bald men singing out of tune in a language I couldn't understand, but by doing so I missed out on all the action, as usual. One member of our entourage spent the night in the ship's brig (sharing the metal cell with a man-mountain who'd found himself in a dance floor brawl) after an act of advanced pranksterism went a little too far. Petter (now affectionately known as Pettourettes) won a trip on the same boat after buying a Jack and Coke, then had a good shout at another passenger. It could have turned nasty but Les bravely defused the situation by falling backwards into a fruit machine. We had to leave Danny in Stockholm this morning as he'd overslept and we couldn't wait any longer for him to disembark, so we're down one band member, and John has just lost a stare-out competition with a fridge full of beer. Only nine hours to go....

Viking Line to Stockholm..

We're on our way to Stockholm on the SS Gabriella once again, Les having just belted out a more than passable rendition of Tom Jones' Delilah - part of our formidable karaoke task force which also comprises Anneka, Petter (voice of an angel, mouth of a trucker) Carlsen, Lee and John Douglas (though the latter was not quite pissed enough to take part) and other notable absentees. Tim's picking up the mended bus sometime tomorrow after having dropped us (and the trailer) somewhere random in Sweden - we'll wait twelve hours or so until he returns, then we head to Oslo. Quite unlike our Scandinavian tour this time last year, it's starting to feel a bit parky of a night.

Helsinki

Another show down and it's all a bit of a blur really - they do do awfully long gigs you know. It's taking a while for me to get into the swing of things on this tour, though I blame that on flying in and the fact our original bus conked out before we'd had a chance to get on it. We are getting on the old Viking Line ferry to Stockholm tomorrow morning and we don't really know what we're going to do when we get there. The problem is that there's an eighteen hour gap between Tim dropping one bus off and picking up the other which should be fixed and ready to take us to Oslo for the gig on Thursday. One idea is to disembark the ferry upon arrival in Sweden, hop back on for the journey back to Finland, and then get back on it again to return to Stockholm - total journey time being thirty six hours. It's a strange prospect but it might just work. The alternative is to crash at driver Tim's house (he resides in Sweden) but apparently it's in the middle of nowhere and facilities may be stretched between thirteen of us. There is one more idea but that involves booking hotel rooms in Sweden, the cost of which would probably negate our going on tour in the first place. We'll see.

Oulu

Back in the old sausage factory and it's piddling down. The equipment didn't arrive in time last night so the band made do with what was available - a random assortment of guitars, amps, drums and keyboards courtesy of tremendous supports (and sports) Anneka van Giersbergen and Petter Carlsen and the chaps at the rehearsal space connected to the venue. It all sounded pretty good, though unsurprisingly some of the keyboard sounds were a bit rinky-dink, and my lack of a tuner caused me some major headaches off stage. Still, a damn good gig nonetheless. Trusty Tim arrived with the new transport halfway through the show, and what a bus it is. Bigger, comfier, more luxurious and sporting a bonkers paint job. It says "Royal Class" on each side. I like that. Tim doesn't like it but we want to keep it, not least because the downstairs pub is twice the size and will provide a perfect setting for the planned quiz night and karaoke session. It arrived pulling a trailer full of brand new posh amps kindly loaned by the nice people at Peavey UK and they're being put through their paces as I write this. It all sounds bloody great, not least because Danny and Vincent have fancy new effects boards and one or two new cables and power supplies to boot. John (who was this evening delivered to the stage in a multi-couloured shopping trolley) has new cymbals as well. This is all of course nothing compared to the sheer magnificence of my new toolbox. Les may not be impressed but what the hell does he know anyway?

Seinäjoki

Day one of leg one of the 2010 European tour and, despite the fact we're on a Ryanair (tarmac your runway for you sir?) flight to Tampere, we're not off to a flying start by any means. The tour bus, which we loaded on Monday and which was supposed to meet us at the airport in Finland, has broken down somewhere in Sweden. Driver Tim has managed to procure a replacement and this will now meet us at the venue in Seinäjoki at about 11 tonight, giving us just enough time to sling the gear on stage and hope for the best.

Beirut...

...was alright - not much to report really. Now we're on our way to this little lot:

Leg one

24-09-2010 Seinäjoki, Rytmikorjaamo

25-09-2010 Oulu, Club Teatria
26-09-2010 Tampere, Klubi
27-09-2010 Helsinki, Tavastia
30-09-2010 Rockefeller, Oslo
01-10-2010 Train, Aarhus,

02-10-2010 Columbia Club, Berlin
03-10-2010 Proxima Club, Warsaw
04-10-2010 Studio Club, Krakow
06-10-2010 Anker Leipzig
07-10-2010 Posthalle, Wurzburg
08-10-2010 Centrum, Erfurt
09-10-2010 Matrix, Bochum
10-10-2010 Elysee Montmartre, Paris
11-10-2010 Garage, Saarbrucken
12-10-2010 Lagerhalle, Osnabruck
13-10-2010 Boerderij, Zoetermeer
14-10-2010 Effenaar, Eindhoven
15-10-2010 Antwerp, Trix Hall
16-10-2010 Substage, Karlsruhe,
17-10-2010 Backstage Hall, Munich 

followed a couple of weeks later by leg two (band members should have enough time to at least give their girlfriends a quick kiss between the legs). It looks like I'll be writing a more official blog on the band's main site, though I'll be carrying on with this one. Stay tuned.

Credit is due to Ian Pattinson and the late Humphrey Lyttleton for the "legs" gag.

Back in the UK now after a pretty grueling week with lots of travel at seriously odd hours, not very much sleep, and some pretty fine gigs in the middle of it all - this despite all the hiccups described in previous posts (I didn't have much time to write anything much so listing ill-fortune became the default theme for this particular excursion).

Highlights for me included the drinks we enjoyed with the fine gentlemen of Porcupine Tree - Steven Wilson surprising and impressing with his capacity for red wine (and his appreciation of the mighty Cardiacs). We also got rather merry in Poland with Ozric Tentacles who were all very lovely and nothing like the crusty hippies I expected them to be. It's a bit of a family affair with them - Ed Wynne plays guitar and his son Silas takes care of the keyboards (making it a Wynne-Wynne situation in my book). Brandi, Ed's missus, plays bass. Best grub of the trip was the Moussaka served backstage in Athens - another recipe I wouldn't mind having. On arrival at Liverpool the luggage carousel got jammed, resulting in what one band member rather dubiously described as "a suitcase Hillsborough". Hmmmm.

We're off back to Beirut at the weekend, a trip which will hopefully include a visit to Abdel Wahab's fine restaurant, and this time I'll know to pace myself (must save a bit of room for that crunchy sparrow).

Inowroclaw...

....after a six hour drive through dense fog from Berlin:

Danny's very nice Carl Martin distortion pedal has died on us, as has the power supply for his Line 6 delay (thankfully this one runs on batteries).
A member of one of the support bands took a swig of coke, not realising there was a wasp hiding in the can. The little bugger stung him on the tongue (!!!) and he's been rushed to hospital with an anaphylactic reaction.

Anyway, off to dinner with Ozric Tentacles in a bit.

Athens (or Thessaloniki continued....)

Our driver to take us to the train station after the Thessaloniki gig failed to turn up meaning we had to get three taxis at six in the morning. When we arrived we were rather unhelpfully informed that there was a train strike and we would have no chance of getting to Athens in time for the next gig, so we flew instead. Luckily Les had enough on his credit card to cover it.

At the Athens show, supporting Porcupine tree:

One of Danny's power supplies died, meaning no reverb pedal,
John knocked over his crash cymbal, and his floor tom collapsed mid song, meaning some hasty repairs and a lot of gaffa,
Porcupine Tree's keyboard player fell off his riser (after a manly swig of sake), injuring his head and ribs,

etc, etc.

We are about to board a plane to Poland via Berlin. What could possibly go wrong?

Thessaloniki

So far on this trip:

Mark (front of house) had to cancel due to an ear infection (not ideal for one who mixes sound for a living),

Les dropped  a bottle of beer, smashing it in the airport cafe,
We sent Vincent's suitcase to baggage handling with his passport still in it,
Les left his brand new book on the plane,
Vincent spilled tea all over his laptop,
Jay broke a bass string mid-song (and we didn't have a spare bass with us),
Vincent spilled a bottle of water over the stage - not good with all those electrics there.

They're still only halfway through the set and I have the fear....

Summer Breeze

Back to square one for me, the annual Summer Breeze festival near the lovely town of Dinkelsbuhl in Bavaria being one of the shows on my first trip out with Anathema two short/long years ago. My overriding memory of that trip was leaving my passport in the Czech Republic and having to fork out €450 for it to be couriered to Stuttgart airport with only moments to spare before check in closed. That was painful.

This time we flew into Frankfurt (rapidly becoming our most familiar European airport) and on the plane found ourselves sitting next to the legendary Herman's Hermits (well, their surviving members anyway). Les of course talked techy-talk with their keyboard player (who looked like he'd just stepped out of a lineup on Never Mind The Buzzcocks) while I battled the urge to ask if Herman's Hermits need German permits to put on their shows. It was noticeable on arrival that it had been quite some time since we'd exited an airport to find it cooler outside than in, a most refreshing change. A three hour bomb down the autobahn, interrupted only for the consumption of fine sausage, and we arrived at the festival site where it all came flooding back to me, though it did seem a lot smaller than I'd remembered. 

As it was a two stage setup we had the all-too-rare luxury of a sixty five minute changeover. The excellent local crew ensured the show went smoothly and we were all finished and packed up by half past six. So, a spot of dinner and a few beers it was then. It was then I found things were not going as smoothly as I'd imagined. An utter prick among the production staff was making life very difficult for the band for reasons known only to himself, smugly shaking his head in response to polite requests for wifi passwords and hotel room keys, and all the while demanding €95 for rental of a poxy keyboard which was part of our technical rider anyway and so had already been paid for. When Les challenged him about it and asked (with admirable restraint) why he was being so unreasonable the bloke offered him out for a fight! Utterly outrageous behaviour, especially when you consider that without the bands there'd be no festival and without the festival he'd be out of a job. We won anyway - he gave us the keys and Les didn't pay. Balls to your little scam. It was a shame though because everyone else there was great.

It was a bit quiet later on in the hospitality area, though Vincent livened things up by extracting a bottle of rock pop  from the production office (read the contract), making it two-nil to Anathema. The elderly turban-wearing metal fan we'd met a couple of years ago put in an appearance, prompting a flurry of top puns. I reckon I won with "Sikhs Sikhs Sikhs, The Number of the Beast" but that's only because I can't remember any of the others. Since our flight back wasn't until quite late the following evening I had a pretty mellow day exploring Dinkelsbuhl with its turrets and lakes and country parks. I'd highly recommend a visit to what is probably the archetypal Bavarian medieval town.

So that's it for the summer festivals. We've got a couple of weeks off and then we're spending the best part of autumn touring Europe and Scandinavia (with a little trip to Beirut beforehand). 

Keep your eyes on the main website for news. In the meantime here's a picture of a nice German shed: