Das Bunk

Complete Tours

2012-01-18T13:25:00.000Z

Been doing a spot of driving for this fine little Lincolnshire-based enterprise. Click on their logo for more info about their range of services which include luxury splitters, backline hire, storage, tour management, techs and roadies, and much, much more.

Berlin then home

2011-10-26T13:51:00.001+01:00

Local support Dance on the Tightrope's ample guest list ensured there was a far healthier crowd at Berlin's graffiti-clad Comet Club, and those that stayed to watch the headliners were as taken aback as any lucky punter on this short tour by the sheer wall of glorious noise North Atlantic Oscillation produce live. If merchandise sales are any indication as to whether or not a tour has been successful one can't help but conclude they must have made a pretty strong impression on virtually everyone that turned up, who to a man will soon be boasting that they were there in October 2011 in a tiny club with a handful of others just before NAO hit the big time. And they'll have the tee-shirt to prove it. They really are that good and I wish them every success. Check them out here

Hamburg 2

2011-10-23T21:00:00.001+01:00

As far as the evening meal was concerned we chose (well, drummer Ben chose) a random Italian restaurant close to the Reeperbahn, waited well over an hour for some decidedly dodgy tucker and watched amazed as the head chef resigned right there and then in a fit of pique, marking his departure by smashing a large dish on the kitchen floor. Gordon Ramsay would have had a field day.

Hamburg

2011-10-23T09:46:00.000+01:00

I never thought I'd write these words but I really wish there was a Formule 1 hotel nearby we could check into for a couple of nights - anything other than the unsettlingly weird Wira Guesthouse we've just dumped our bags in and fled to the nearest bar from. It seems an ageing gentleman found himself with a few redundant rooms in quite a large council flat, presumably after his children grew and fled the nest and his missus either left him or died - or perhaps both. One assumes at which point he thought, "Hang on, what if I put six beds in each room, name each after a continent (or a country for ante-rooms), and then charge people to stay there, all the while providing the absolute bare minimum in terms of facilities. Yes, that will work." And it does, kind of. We had to pay extra for "bedding" - our foam mattresses bend upwards at the corners because the elasticated sheets are too tight, the cases to cover our malformed, inadequate pillows are far too large and completely the wrong shape for their lumpy contents, and we find ourselves having to tip-toe past six sleeping strangers to get to our dingy quarters - quite arbitrarily named "Sweden". The room puts me in mind of Sweden in much the same way Idi Amin does, ie not in the slightest. It costs a euro to hire a towel should you wish to bathe - Chris circumventing this charge by drying himself off with a bath mat. There's that ingenuity again. Paul has decided he's keeping his, reasoning that one euro is a fair price to be paid for a second hand towel. The place is clean though, and right opposite a handy U-bahn station so I suppose things could be a lot worse. We're here for two nights so there's plenty of time to see if indeed they can be.

A report on our eventful evening meal will follow in due course.

And speaking of Chris

2011-10-21T17:44:00.001+01:00

he related to us a charming anecdote which so far holds the title of "most heartwarming tale of the tour" and displays a level of ingenuity and resourcefulness seldom found in the bass-playing community. When he was a child he and his brother reportedly left a portable cassette recorder permanently armed so that whenever either of them felt the need to break wind all they had to do was disengage the pause button to commit the audio portion of their emittance to tape. When the end of the side was reached they were able to sit back and at their leisure enjoy the experience of listening to a seamless forty-five minute fart. Remarkable.

Tilburg

2011-10-21T10:42:00.000+01:00

Top gig at the 013 last night by the band whose membership criteria appears to be that no-one must have a name longer than one syllable - hence Sam, Bill, Ben, Pete and Chris. Even sound-man Paul fails to break this curious rule. And that leaves me, currently toying with the notion that in the land of the monosyllabic the disyllabic man is king. How I can leverage (as twats who use words like "leverage" would say) this to my advantage is another matter entirely. I'm sure I'll think of something.

Great to see top Netherlander and fellow Cardiacs nut Maarten Adventurer at the show, and very kind it was of him to bring me a case of fine Belgian ale. Brilliant also to see my old chum and ex bus-mate Jamie Cavanagh. It'd be good to see both of them more often.

On our way to Arnhem now - pausing only at some football stadium or other to procure a special, magical pin badge, if bassist Chris gets his way.

North Atlantic Oscillation Day 1

2011-10-19T22:14:00.001+01:00

It's been a little over half a day since I set off on this particular trek and I already feel compelled to put finger to keyboard and wake this sleeping page. Somehow, and I don't know how, my hiatus from touring has numbed my faculties and allowed me to forget what a complete waking nightmare, prison-like hell an overnight ferry crossing can be - this time courtesy of DFDS and their boat (yes captain, boat) from North Shields to somewhere near Amsterdam. I don't know who it was who long ago came to the conclusion that "shit nightclub on the ocean" would be the best approach to keeping fare-paying inmates entertained during their crossing, but they really should take the time to point out to the lead singer of "NRG" that the well known and quite excellent Abba song "Dancing Queen" does not contain the line "feel the beat of the tambouroon." Even my spell checker knows that.

Another little teaser for Idiot's forthcoming EP...

2011-10-16T13:10:00.000+01:00

A brief hop over to Europe...

2011-09-10T18:59:00.002+01:00

is what's in store for me, somewhere around October twentieth for a week or thereabouts. I'll be driving, teching and merch-selling for those perky progsters North Atlantic Oscillation who, as those with keen faculties will recall, supported Anathema on more than one prestigious occasion and gained many friends in the process. It's been a fairly quiet summer for me since I resigned as Anathema's guitar tech way back in May when the band and dear old friend Les Smith parted company in less than ideal circumstances, though I've picked up a few jobs driving young punk bands to and from festivals and erected a few stages in the meantime. I've also been recording my own band Idiot's debut ep in my home studio (ie a laptop, keyboard and mic), and I don't mind saying it's much harder work than I ever dreamt it would be, but most definitely worth the effort. Won't be long now.

Back soon.

Maybe...

2011-07-18T17:03:00.000+01:00

...this blog will be resurrected in the autumn. I might just have a tour with a band not entirely unconnected to the Anathema family. Watch this space (if you can be bothered).

This is my band. Our name is Idiot. Enjoy.

2011-06-12T08:19:00.001+01:00

That's all folks...

2011-05-10T08:31:00.002+01:00

Well, as far as working for Anathema is concerned it is. Due to circumstances way beyond my control I have made the decision to terminate my role as Anathema's guitar tech. It's a shame as I've had some great times on the road with them and wouldn't swap those experiences for anything. I've enjoyed putting this blog together over the years, it helping to keep me sane when I've found myself in all manner of odd places and situations around the world. I hope you've enjoyed reading it. If I find myself on the road with another band (anyone looking for a guitar tech?) I'll write some more. In fact, I might even have the odd rant from time to time if I feel like getting something off my chest. I'll leave it here for the time being and we'll see what happens.

Cheers everyone, and make sure you listen to Cardiacs, the greatest band on the planet.

Darryl

2011-03-26T16:02:00.000Z

Anathema are currently in the studio so no shows for a little while. Normal service will resume presently.

2011-02-27T16:58:00.001Z

Another top French band name.

Stefan gets creative with the lights as Cloverseeds set up in Rennes.

Rennes

2011-02-27T13:26:00.002Z

Back in the Antipode where I did sound for Ruby Throat a couple of years ago and we seem to have arrived in the middle of a cigarette smoking convention. Things have been a little subdued of late - the dressing room in Caen was rifled and laptops, wallets and phones were taken. Still, last show today and everyone seems pretty chipper, if a little hung over.

Bordeaux

2011-02-24T20:17:00.001Z

"Alright you f*cking c*nts, please welcome, all the way from Sweden, the worst singer-songwriter in the world......Petter f*cking Carlsen."

In addition to his compèring activities John Douglas is also available for children's parties, after dinner speaking and humanist funerals.

Toulouse

2011-02-23T19:32:00.002Z

Day fifteen and we find ourselves at what must surely be a serious contender for best venue in Europe, namely Le Bikini in Toulouse. It's a fairly recent build, its original incarnation having been obliterated in an explosion at a nearby chemicals plant in 2001, a blast which also sadly left twenty nine dead. A lot of thought has been put into the design of the new venue, and I can honestly say I've never heard a PA sound so good. In fact I reckon you could mix an album on it. As is usual in France, and as I've mentioned here before, the food they serve us while on tour is generally excellent, though the staff in the kitchen at Le Bikini have somehow managed to raise the bar even further. Octopus for breakfast anyone?

Last night's gig in Clermont Ferrand is one I hope to wipe from memory before too long. After replacing Vincent's guitar, amplifier and cables mid-song(s) in an effort to make it all work again the problem finally turned out to lie within the venue's equipment. You don't half feel like an idiot though, frantically redesigning the stage while hundreds of punters look on.

Vincent ponders what to eat next.

Lyon

2011-02-21T16:28:00.000Z

Day thirteen of the tour and I'm starting to feel the first twinges of bus-trophobia, there being no nice little front lounge on this one in which to hide away. Another down side is that, while we can see perfectly well where we've been and where we currently are (on a moment by moment basis), we can't actually see where we're going. I miss that.

In a recent attempt to alleviate boredom I watched the sci-fi movie "Skyline" which I shall review as follows:

People you don't care about dying unheroically for no good reason.

Yep, that about sums it up.

London

2011-02-18T17:46:00.014Z

Sat in the Blackbird ale and pie house in Earls Court, immensely satisfied after scoffing one of their delicious speciality pies. The sold out show at the Scala last night marked the end of a hugely successful UK tour which saw audiences swelling (in the nicest possible way) and new territories conquered. Highlights included the backstage facilities at the Assembly in Leamington - Tammy Wynette's ornate sixties touring caravan and an even older fairground dodgem among the artefacts thoughtfully provided for our amusement. A couple of days earlier in Nottingham I missed out on a late night seance in caves under an old pub due to tour fatigue - the landlady of said establishment reportedly able to summon ghosts at will (yeah, right - why's it not the focal point of some serious scientific research then?) by getting gullible punters to hold hands in a circle in the dark. What she hadn't banked on was Anathema turning the pointless spectacle into an impromptu round of hokey-cokey. I'm sure the dead (had they turned up) would have found it most amusing. Another highlight for me was being able to watch North Atlantic Oscillation play their set every night. Shame they're not staying with us.

We set off tonight for Lille and the first of nine shows in France.

Merch spiv Brian Moss in the Noddy car in Leamington. Below is Tammy Wynette's caravan.

And for the record, I don't believe for one minute that Danny got his shiner by walking into a tree in Sheffield. I reckon he most likely bumped heads with Ken Clark.

Nottingham 2

2011-02-14T13:08:00.006Z

On our way to Leamington and the Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen-designed Assembly venue. I really don't know what to expect but it should be noted that roadies don't do fancy. I somehow managed to cram in two incredibly disappointing meals in Nottingham where we stayed for our day off. The first was a pitiful excuse for a roast chicken dinner served at the Yates's pub by the main square, not redeemed in any way by the "free" splat of crumble and custard masquerading as dessert. After Lee and John witnessed their beloved Everton getting thrashed by Bolton on a screen thirty feet wide a few of us ventured out to a curry house around the corner which (judging by the messages on their wall) comes highly recommended by much of the UK's celebrity elite, all of whom must have appeared at one time or another at the theatre across the road. Since the aforementioned meal I find myself urged to pen strongly-worded letters to, among others: Bob Carolgees, Little and Large, Christopher Biggins, David Essex, Lenny Henry, Dawn French, the bloke out of the "Confessions of..." films, and Whitesnake. I intend to ask why exactly they would recommend such bland, lukewarm and overpriced fare. Ah, thinking about it, I might have answered my own question there.

Nottingham

2011-02-13T12:24:00.000Z

The morning after the gig at the Rescue Rooms and we have a day off. Unsurprisingly the weather is purest gloom, though I doubt we'll be spending much time outside as there were murmurings last night regarding Sunday roast dinners and the match involving Lee and John's favourite football team being shown on the television.

In other news, a member of our entourage found himself much the worse off in an early morning disagreement with a Sheffield street tree and now sports an impressive lump on the forehead, one which will surely become more colourful as the days progress.

UK Tour

2011-02-11T11:19:00.007Z

Currently on our way to Sheffield for gig number three and things are going pretty well. Despite being a man or two down crew-wise load-ins and outs have been relatively stress free and have in fact proved a useful source of exercise, this being good as you'll never find me giving any of my hard-earned cash to a poxy gym. North Atlantic Oscillation (so nice to have a support act I like) have been chipping in, and the local crew at the Cathouse in Glasgow were supremely keen and helpful, making the hell of their steep sticky stairs that little bit more bearable. On the subject of the Cathouse, this was the gig I was least looking forward to on this jaunt. Last time we were there (on the day Obama won the 2008 presidential race) the band played to around eighty punters in a filthy room (or was it eighty filthy punters in a room?). The dressing room was a dimly lit pigsty (the shower would more aptly have been employed as a second toilet should the other be occupied and the need great), and the catering seemed the product of some nightmare that involved wandering aimlessly around Netto with a dole cheque. Not so on this occasion. It's amazing what a lick of paint and a bit of TLC can do to a place. Three hundred or so punters this time as well.

In other news, Vincent is playing a shiny new Paul Reed Smith for part of the set, leaving me with the formidable task of figuring out a way to purloin it without anyone noticing. It is a very nice guitar. Les currently has a form of beard growing on his face, causing some to liken him to the late Dennis Hopper. Personally, I see more of a resemblance to Albert Steptoe.

Off we pop again:

2011-02-08T20:52:00.002Z

09-02-2011 Live Lounge, Durham
10-02-2011 Cathouse, Glasgow
11-02-2011 Academy 2, Sheffield
12-02-2011 Rescue Rooms, Nottingham
14-02-2011 The Assembly, Leamington
15-02-2011 Academy 3, Manchester
16-02-2011 Slade Rooms, Wolverhampton
17-02-2011 Scala, London
19-02-2011 Le Splendid, Lille
20-02-2011 La Laiterie, Strasbourg
21-02-2011 Ninkasy, Lyon
22-02-2011 Cooperative de Mai, Clermont Ferrand
23-02-2011 Bikini, Toulouse
24-02-2011 Theatre Barbey, Bordeaux
25-02-2011 Le Cargo, Caen
26-02-2011 LE 106, Rouen
27-02-2011 L'Antipode, Rennes

Happy 2011

2011-01-04T17:36:00.005Z

2010 ended a bit weirdly really, what with the mini tour of Ireland which for me was broken up by the funeral of a friend. We then had a charity show for the poorly kiddies in Liverpool and all of this was only a few days before the massive pig-out that is, at least in my calendar, Atheist-mas. What I will say though is that despite the entire British Isles being crippled by snow and ice and all major airports being full of disgruntled, stymied, would-be passengers we managed to take a tour bus across to Ireland (by means of the roughest ferry crossing I've yet encountered) and drive around unhindered for three days. Leaving everyone behind in Belfast I flew (with only half an hour's delay) to Exeter and then from there to Manchester a couple of days later. I then took a coach to Liverpool and rejoined the bus which dropped me off the day after just in time for me to catch a train back home. I really don't know what all the fuss was about.

Happy New Year from all (i.e. me) at Das Bunk.

2010-12-18T19:52:00.001Z

RIP Don Van Vliet, aka Captain Beefheart. A true genius.

Ireland

2010-12-16T13:55:00.002Z

We sail tonight from Holyhead, travelling there on the blue bus with the dark and menacing rear lounge and upstairs kitchen, our preferred means of conveyance currently stuck in a garage with brake trouble. Whether the weather will hamper our progress to and around the emerald isle is a matter of much speculation - snow and ice storms are arriving from the arctic north as I write this. It's probably a good thing that Tim is used to such conditions as he makes his home in Sweden. This inclemency may also make it difficult for me to fly back to the UK for the laying to rest of a dear friend on the 20th, meaning I'll miss the Belfast show the night before. I really, really hope there's a break in the weather.

Home again

2010-11-26T16:51:00.004Z

So that's the tour over and done with - I write this back home in nithering Lincoln as I ponder just how I'm going to prepare my delicious steaks this evening while drinking a cold bottle of Old Speckled Hen. The last couple of shows were good, though not necessarily from a lighting point of view - poor spec once again thwarting Stefan Wolf. We arrived hours late in the impressive city of Bratislava where yet again smoking appeared compulsory among gig-goers, giving my already sore throat even more to grumble about. Despite this the Slovak people were all very nice, though it takes them an age to hoover a carpet. Support "The Ocean" missed the gig by being even more tardy than Anthema but this was no great loss as they'd developed a special way of annoying the hell out of me. How a band can complain they have too little space to set up when they have more lights on stage than amps and instruments is beyond me. Still, good luck to them.

The Prague show was also good, and I finally got the load-out pizza I'd been badgering Les about since the beginning of leg one. Another victory for pester power.

Thanks to some heroic driving through snow and rain we ended up back in blighty way ahead of schedule and dropped all the gear at Matt's handy lock-up near Derby. Later that evening, as I cracked open a bottle of wine bought on the ferry, I got a phone call from driver Tim.

"I thought you might like to know what happened on the way back to the depot," he said.

Apparently he was passed by his own trailer as he drove along the motorway. It had come uncoupled from the bus, most likely due to some idiots or other trying to nick it while he was parked up at services. I don't know why but this seems a fitting end to the whole tale. Maybe the trailer had finally had enough and was making a run for it. I wouldn't blame it after what happened in Romania.

We reconvene for three shows in Ireland in a few weeks. See you then.

Sofia

2010-11-22T17:58:00.009Z

As mentioned in a previous post the venue for the Bulgaria show had to be switched due to a roof collapse, and what this meant in reality was that Anathema became the first rock band ever to play the prestigious Sofia Philharmonic Hall, a grand old room that was the perfect setting for a great show in front of some nine hundred-odd very loud and eager punters. Later a good few of us tucked in to some top grub at a local restaurant while others bopped along to "Shakey and the Blood Rain" at an after-show party, Shakey being a fat greebo with a builder's cleavage. We then set off on the punishing journey to Bratislava, a trip which would take us through much of the terrain already endured over the past few days. So I retired to my bunk, drifting off to Doug Stanhope on the iPod.

I don't know how much later it was but I woke to the sound of Les screaming,

"Everybody get up and get off the bus now!"

So we did, quickly. The bus was filled with the kind of foul smelling smoke which comes from burning plastic. Not good at all. We stood in the road in the dark as Tim explained that the brakes were overheating as we'd just come down a particularly steep mountain road. Indeed, smoke was billowing out from the wheel arches (where you could warm your hands if you so wished) and some of this had found its way into our quarters, leading us to think quite understandably that the bus was on fire. We stood in the night for a while to let the brakes cool and to let a bit of air in, stepping out of the way for the odd passing car and the even odder old man on two horses.

The next time I woke was the next morning around ten o'clock. I wandered downstairs to make a cup of tea and found several fellow transportees still drinking heroically. Les was sporting comedy Fu Manchu eyebrows fashioned from gaffer tape and was spouting gibberish between blowing raspberries at people. He decided he needed to be off the bus for some reason, taking advantage of the fact we were parked up in the middle of ugly nowhere. Just as he stepped off the bus pulled away forcing him to run like hell to get back on board. In a scene reminiscent of the opening credits to "The Little House on the Prairie" he fell head first into a ditch. Most amusing.

A short while later we were required to show our faces for the cops at the border with Romania (these particular public servants not requiring several hundred euros in bribes unlike their fat, lazy counterparts in the traffic service) and it then became apparent we were taking a shortcut - hundreds of kilometres shaved off the journey by taking a ropey little ferry across the Danube - a good idea in theory though the reality was somewhat different. First of all the bus got stuck for a good twenty minutes trying to get on the thing, the entire vessel having to move to level the ramp and free us. A short hop across the river later and we were ready to disembark, though this time the trailer hit a kink in the ramp and the tow bar was ripped clean off the back of the bus. Not good news at all. A kindly soul hooked the stranded trailer to his truck and pulled it off the ferry for us while we drove a hundred yards or so down the road to a staggeringly dreary yet extremely handy garage for a spot of emergency welding. Thankfully we weren't stuck there for as long as expected. While the welder welded, a two litre bottle of cheap lager always by his side, we fed pressed ham to stray dogs and then scared them off with weird chords, watched two massive cranes do their work and marvelled at the sheer depressing ugliness of this Romanian border outpost.

After two more bored coppers relieved us of another hundred euros for no good reason and then ordered us out of town (we were leaving anyway, thanks) we drove through interminable nothingness for hours until we finally set up camp at a weird roadside truck stop where we ate undercooked sausages while soft porn played on the television in the background. We then drank sickly local wine at a bar across the way, arriving just as the house band were packing up for the night - a lucky escape I think. We're currently making our way to Bratislava where we hope to arrive at around six pm so it'll be another mad dash to get set up. Crazy times.

The Leader of the Starry Skies

2010-11-20T00:47:00.001Z

In 2008 the genius behind the greatest band there's ever likely to be, Tim Smith, suffered a serious debilitating stroke and he's been in hospital ever since. In a noble and moving effort to raise funds to help with Tim's ongoing care many who owe a debt of gratitude to Cardiacs for their inspiration and influence have contributed cover versions of their songs for an album to be released in early December. The album is "The Leader of the Starry Skies" and is available for pre-order here. It features, among others, Steven Wilson of Porcupine Tree, Andy Partridge of XTC, Oceansize, The North Sea Radio Orchestra and Julianne Regan of All About Eve.

If you pre-order you also get a bonus cd containing even more tracks for free. If you're unfamiliar with the music of Cardiacs then do yourself a favour and check them out on iTunes. "Sing To God" part 1 is as good a starting point as any, but don't expect it to be an easy listen. Perseverance will reap rich rewards though.

Here is an amazing performance from their 1992 "Mare's Nest" video. Enjoy.

Bucharest (part 2)

2010-11-20T00:15:00.000Z

We got there alright, setting the stage in record time in front of a sizeable and impatient crowd. We had to pack down pretty sharpish afterwards as well, the stage being required for the Romanian equivalent of Fat Boy Slim or somesuch. We were in the venue for a grand total of four hours and now we have to negotiate the same roads again (but with the added twist of it being dark and foggy) as we make our way to Sofia for the band's first ever show in Bulgaria.

Home soon. Mine's a pint of Landlord.

Bucharest (part 1)

2010-11-19T23:33:00.001Z

I write this on the bus as it makes its way towards our gig in Bucharest. It's currently seven pm local time and we're still a good fifty kilometres from our destination. The doors are already open to punters and the venue has a strict ten o'clock curfew. We left Budapest at two in the morning and have done what seems to be the equivalent of driving the length of the British Isles via the back roads. Seriously, we've been through some proper nutty terrain - village after remote mountain village of tumbledown shacks, the only indication someone's living in them being the lines of washing hanging outside. Cows are herded across the (very busy) roads, donkeys pull hay-filled carts and entire families wander along with little regard for the trucks thundering by mere inches from them. Add to that the suicidal overtaking manoeuvres attempted by local drivers and the manky stray dogs running out to attack passing vehicles and you've got one seriously uncomfortable ride.

Budapest

2010-11-18T19:16:00.002Z

Day seventeen of this leg and the crew have been hit by a spate of falling over. Matt toppled twice in the crappy Viper Room in Vienna yesterday and Mark blacked out in the bus bog (after a healthy dose of Jim Beam though I blame the overpowering stench myself) leaving him with a nasty bump on the back of his head. So far I've managed to remain vertical but I'm having to be extra careful just in case.

The Viper Room has quite a bit of history it seems. It's deep underground in an ancient tunnel system where in the twelfth century the bodies of some eight hundred unfortunates were found buried during the second Ottoman siege. After that it was both an orphanage and a convent, finally becoming a shitty dive of a club in more recent times.

In marked contrast today's venue is superb - we're in the lap of luxury backstage with the legendary Sandra looking after all our culinary and towelling needs.

Vienna

2010-11-17T09:35:00.001Z

Heading to a gig at the Viper Room having dodged a bullet on our day off in the Slovenian city of Maribor - an electrical component behind our driver's seat shorted out and melted the circuit board. Matt and Tim spent much of the day attempting a repair only for it to burst into flames again when reconnected. A work-around has been found and the only things not working are the lights in our bunks meaning we can't read in bed. Group literacy levels may fall as a result but that's a small price to pay for not burning to death.

Incumbent merch spiv Brian Moss had an unexpected day off in Milan as the local (supposedly mafia-run) venue demanded nearly fifty percent of our takings meaning selling the stuff would earn them more than it would the band. The merchandise stayed in the trailer and the venue received fifty percent of nothing.

Stentorian support The Ocean seem finally to have perfected the art of putting their equipment on stage without trampling all over ours in the process, so good work there, lads - keep it up.

The photo shows lake Geneva a few miles from Vevey where we played a week or so ago.

Treviso

2010-11-13T16:51:00.007Z

Back at the New Age club where two years ago, if memory serves, Matt got rather hammered on red wine and vodka and as a result spent much of the day giggling like an idiot into the PA system. Talking of being hammered, a certain Norwegian singer/songwriter who shall remain nameless is currently on a period of probation after waking the hard-working crew on several occasions during the night with his debauched drunken behaviour. As a result ear plugs will from this moment onwards be referred to as "Anti-Petter Plugs" (ah, I wasn't supposed to name names now was I).

Earlier when we were setting up the stage, a single black sock fell out of a flight case, and out of that sock flew a moth. It was a moment of quiet poetic beauty that nicely broke up the drudgery of the tour.

It's driver Tim's birthday today so I expect we'll be having a few drinks in his honour later, and perhaps a whip-round for a present. It shouldn't be too difficult to find something for him - his two favourite things in the world are sports cars and breasts.

Switzerland

2010-11-11T17:47:00.001Z

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

2010-11-09T17:08:00.002Z

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

2010-11-06T21:59:00.003Z

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

2010-11-05T21:35:00.001Z

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

2010-11-03T23:49:00.002Z

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

2010-10-31T19:15:00.000Z

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

2010-10-15T20:01:00.000+01:00

Our rare and highly collectable tour passes:

Eindhoven

2010-10-14T23:18:00.000+01:00

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

2010-10-11T19:30:00.003+01:00

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

2010-10-10T17:41:00.001+01:00

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

2010-10-07T18:51:00.002+01:00

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

2010-10-04T15:37:00.003+01:00

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.

2010-10-01T22:18:00.001+01:00

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

Oslo

2010-09-30T20:30:00.001+01:00

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

2010-09-29T13:58:00.002+01:00

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..

2010-09-28T22:27:00.000+01:00

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

2010-09-28T01:40:00.001+01:00

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

2010-09-26T01:32:00.005+01:00

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

2010-09-24T12:32:00.001+01:00

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...

2010-09-23T13:17:00.001+01:00

...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.

2010-09-13T15:57:00.001+01:00

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...

2010-09-11T15:43:00.001+01:00

....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....)

2010-09-10T14:24:00.002+01:00

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

2010-09-08T21:50:00.003+01:00

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

2010-08-22T20:23:00.013+01:00

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:

Tunis

2010-07-25T21:37:00.014+01:00

So Anathema finally make good on their promise and return to play a gig that should have happened well over a year ago, the venue this time being an old prison rather than an important and culturally sensitive national landmark. I guess they thought it would be handy to have cells close to hand in case a spot of impromptu cat sacrificing broke out mid-gig (government officials were present just in case, scrutinising events from an elevated row of patio chairs, and a couple of not very secret agents were reportedly seen shadowing band members as they enjoyed a drink in a local bar later that night). As he's currently lounging around in Majorca, John's drum stool was filled on this occasion by Portuguese stand-in Daniel Cardoso who did an incredible job considering he'd had just one and a half rehearsals. Great drummer though he is, he does have some work to do before he reaches the standard of the legendary John Douglas. For example, I imagine it would be quite some time before he's seen baring his arse at Danny from the side of the stage during a heartfelt and tender acoustic number. You've either got it or you haven't.

The Tunisians now hold the gold medal in the "hotel furthest from venue" sub-category of international pro-celebrity gig sorting, making the Russians look like rank amateurs and leaving them smarting in humiliation. I honestly don't know what the Tunisians were thinking (a common notion, I found). It's like playing a gig in Manchester and staying in Birmingham, it being a tortuous slog down the motorway (a game which involves driving very slowly while keeping the white line separating the lanes as close to the centre of your bonnet as possible) to and from our annoying beach resort hotel where they served tasteless beer that doesn't get you pissed and where I felt like a tit dressed as a roadie among all the vacationing families. Who's bright idea was it to dump a rock band and their crew in a place where all the entertainment and facilities are designed to please ten-year-olds anyway? The person whose uncle runs the bloody place, that's who. God knows what the rest of the guests thought of us, though I have a good idea what some of the staff were thinking. As Mark and I ate our dinner one evening the waiter insisted on putting a floral spray on our table (replacing it after I moved it), asking us in that particular way if we were enjoying our stay. And then there was the Tunisian Bruno who it seems would have been prepared to do anything to get one of us to have a game of ping pong with him. Jay finally obliged (and beat him), but the only thing Bruno bummed that day was a couple of cigarettes off Les.

Anyway, after the gig (more on that later) we got back to the hotel at three-am, and deciding not to visit a nearby bar with everyone else as I was bloody knackered, I went straight to my room where I found all my belongings were missing - clean clothes, shampoo, the lot. It turns out the maid had somehow misinterpreted my reply of "no thanks" when she'd asked earlier if I wanted my room cleaned as "yes, and not only that, can you remove all my possessions and put them in your office, apart from any toiletries which you should put in a carrier bag and hide it under the bed." Seriously, the mind boggles. Anyway, after remonstrating with the front desk I was eventually told my things were in safe hands and would be brought to me in the morning, though they would wait for me to call so I wouldn't be disturbed. Unsurprisingly, I was woken up at eight-thirty by the maid hammering on the door. I was not happy. I tried to get back to sleep but conceded defeat a couple of hours later and went for some food and a couple of beers in an effort to feel sleepy again. It did the trick and I went back to bed. An hour or so later the phone rang, and like an idiot I answered it. I was to immediately vacate the room - they needed it for new arrivals. So instead of slumbering in air-conditioned loveliness I found myself seething and drinking vodka in the insane heat while watching masochistic nutters doing aerobics to bad techno music. I really was not happy. I put my stuff in Les's room (he'd forgotten to put his "coldener" on so it was mafting in there), returning a little while later for a much needed nap, only to turfed out of there after half an hour as they needed that room as well. What the hell was going on? It felt as if there was some insane conspiracy to make my stay in Tunisia as miserable and frustrating as possible. Our flight back to the UK wasn't until two-thitrty in the morning (why??) but that didn't stop our hosts from then deciding we'd be picked up at seven to go to a bar in Tunis until it was time to go to the airport. What? Are you insane?

LEAVE ME ALONE! ALL I WANT IS SOME SLEEP!

We refused to go along with their stupid plans anymore and I went and sat in a corner with my headphones on and listened to some Cardiacs to calm myself down. We were finally picked up at ten and I don't think I've ever been more relieved to get the hell out of anywhere in my life.

Anyway, the gig, allowed to go ahead despite more accusations of satanism, was good though the PA lacked oomph. The crowd had a great time, though sadly absent was the lovely Myriam who'd made such an effort to make our stay pleasant last time we visited, refused entry by some dick head among the promoter's entourage who'd been "wronged" in some way. Grow up idiot. Support act Carthogods were entertaining, having brought Fabio Lione over from Italy for a spot of stunt singing. Universal was played with an interesting twist and the mayor of Tunis was sufficiently impressed to allow more rock at the venue in the future. Good though this news is, I really don't know how long it'll be before I'll feel like making a return visit.

Best quote of the trip?

"I can say this now, my rival has a nuclear weapon on the darkness of his anus" - Ahmed Chebil on the shit-stirring, letter-writing, satanism-accusing rival promoter.

And the moral to this tale? Never suggest a Tunisian man's wife is a donkey.

Pistoia Blues Festival

2010-07-18T22:34:00.007+01:00

More baking heat, this time in Tuscany - a beautiful part of the planet and a world away from the bits of Italy I've found myself in previously. All was going well until we found we'd been delivered to the wrong hotel - suddenly whisked from air conditioned luxury to a town centre three-star with faulty plumbing and a decidedly rickety elevator. Still, we were close to bars and restaurants and suchlike so it was a fair trade-off as the other one was in the middle of nowhere. We ventured out for a production feed (cheers lads) in the evening and found a little place which seemed nice, nestling at the edge of an elegant square in the town of Prato. If only we'd known about the service before we sat down. What remnants of our order that survived the journey from waiter's notepad to kitchen and back to our table arrived in such a random fashion we may as well have just asked for one big plate of chips between us. Matt's burger arrived before most of the starters, these accompanied by vegetables meant for other absent main courses. A mysterious bowl of what looked like vegetable soup appeared and had us all perplexed. I then had to remind the bloke that I'd ordered some onion soup, though he decided to treat this as a brand new request which meant more agonising minutes looking on as others ate half of their dinners. Eventually I got a completely different steak to what I ordered (where was the red wine sauce?) with no roast potatoes, but tucked right in as I'd lost the will to complain. Won't be eating there again.

Pistoia is a beautiful town. The gig was in the magnificent medieval square overshadowed by a cathedral and museum on two sides, grand old buildings on the others. Porcupine Tree (headliners) were setting up when we arrived, my introduction to them amounting to being told in no uncertain terms that if anything happened to their precious stage carpet the plug would be pulled on our show. Fair enough. I'm Darryl by the way, pleased to meet you. I built a couple of pedal boards as usual (nice multi-level one for Dan this time) and watched the first two support acts from the side of the stage. North Atlantic Oscillation caught my ear - great harmonies and dynamics. Anathema played a good set and then it was time for PT to take the stage. I have to say I was intrigued by their setup. At the front were a couple of pedal boards, racks of guitars and a lovely looking old wooden keyboard. Right in the middle though, was a vacuum cleaner. I remember thinking, "Wow, that's interesting. Maybe they mic it up and put it through some effects or something". Sadly not. One of their roadies hoovered the bloody carpet with it.

I headed back to the hotel pretty early after all was done, missing the spectacle of PT's tour manager thumping a member of Astra for nicking booze and behaving like a twat, allegedly. Matt and I took advantage of the late night roast pork sandwich shop across the road from our lodgings - a bit salty but nice all the same. Les slept in the hotel corridor as Jamie couldn't hear his increasingly desperate attempts to get into the room they were sharing. Hey ho.

I have to say a big thank you to our drivers who really looked after us while we were there - top blokes the pair of them. The photo shows Porcupine Tree's crew setting up in Pistoia. (They did help us out by the way, lending us a couple of essential bits of kit, so cheers fellas.)

Hey, guess what. We're in Tunisia again on Wednesday. Watch this space.

Sonisphere Madrid

2010-07-10T18:16:00.003+01:00

Another day, another Sonisphere. This one was going to be nuts from the start as ever-thrifty Les had us flying home the moment we cleared the stage in a worthy effort to save money on flights. Of course this would mean a pretty tight schedule, one exacerbated by hour after tedious hour of delays caused by, among other things, adverse weather and dumb passengers. We were delayed (thankfully) by thunderstorms on the way to Madrid; our flight was bumpy, Dan's and Vincent's from Paris choppier still, though the one carrying Porcupine Tree's crew was reportedly a terrifying journey into hell. The reason for the thunderstorms was the insane Spanish heat. Anathema played in blazing mid-afternoon sunshine on a baking stage (106 Fahrenheit if the thermometer was to be believed), John no doubt regretting not bringing a sombrero with him. I on the other hand could really have done with some oven gloves to aid the removal of pedals after the show. It was a speedy pack down and then straight to the airport and back to Bristol on a plane full of very well behaved though quite staggeringly talkative school children. All in a day(and a half)s work for your trusty crew. Italy and the Pistoia Blues festival on Wednesday.

One way of dealing with Spanish heat.

Sonisphere Bucharest

2010-06-29T12:58:00.007+01:00

After a couple of hours kip in a bloody horrible Belgian hotel we got on a plane to Romania, ate a dreadful in-flight meal on the way then were dropped off at a proper big hotel in Bucharest, this one only ten minutes from the airport and right next to the festival site. Russians take note. In fact, as I constructed pedal boards in my room for the show the following day I could see Metallica playing their set. (Un?)fortunately I couldn't hear them as my window wouldn't open. According to Matt they were a bit ropey.

Despite the festival stage being enormous we ended up with an area about the size of a tea towel on which to work, the reason for this being Rammstein's stage-hogging monster of a set - all welded pipes, gas canisters and steel walkways, though I can forgive them as their concert was incredible - perfect sound, insane pyrotechnics and a wicked sense of humour. They definitely gained a few fans in the Anathema camp. We had a good titter with them at their after-show party as well, Les taking the time to engage in a bit of friendly keyboarder rivalry:

"Balls to your treadmill, I've got a mini trampoline and a unicycle!"

I look forward to the day he readies the act for stage. All in all a highly enjoyable weekend.

Graspop

2010-06-26T21:47:00.004+01:00

A nice mellow voyage to Zebrugge on the North Sea ferry for the band to play a blinder in a packed marquee, opening with a mighty rendition of Led Zeppelin's Kashmir. Afterwards I met someone who is kind of partially responsible for my being there. The gentleman's name is Biff Byford and his band is Saxon. When I was fifteen my uncle took me to see them play at Sheffield city hall. It was the first gig I'd ever been to. Not too long after that I bought my first electric guitar, and now I make a living travelling the world tuning and re-stringing the things. So I shook Biff's hand and said thanks. All he had to say in response was "Who are you?" It meant something to me though. I also met a very knackered Lips, lead singer with Anvil. He's just as nice a bloke in the flesh as he is in the highly entertaining documentary, "Anvil: The Story of Anvil".

Jamie was rather keen to show everyone his very smart yet curiously branded sunglasses which apparently he found in his car. Here's a photo of him wearing them (click for larger view):

How they came up with that name I've no idea, but I reckon they should team up with the company that makes the television we saw in Turkey. I'd buy shares in Arcelik and Knobbout.

Cologne (continued)...

2010-06-20T07:40:00.018+01:00

Not a good day football-wise for both Germany and England. It was embarrassing to watch our eleven idiots cluelessly chasing the ball around the pitch, our being in the company of many surprisingly cheerful though unsurprisingly crapulous locals. And what a bar we chose to watch it in - dimly lit, curiously decorated and full of weird Heath Robinson-style automated musical devices. "Tunnes & Schal", a deeply sinister robotic accordion/tuba combo relieved us of far too many of our euros, their repertoire being remarkably comprehensive and their renditions flawless. Who could possibly resist this?:

Tunnes & Schal play Kraftwerk

Luckily our ferry back to the UK was the not-too-shabby Pride of Dover, not its sister ship, the oddly depressing Pride (should be Shame) of Kent which carried us across the channel at the start of the trip.

Three days rest then it's Graspop in Belgium followed closely by Sonisphere in Bucharest.

Cologne

2010-06-18T15:21:00.001+01:00

Just watched Germany lose to Serbia in a pleasant city square. The locals don't seem that bothered which is good as a lot them made the effort to doll themselves up for the occasion. So now we're down by the river watching USA v Slovenia, making sure we'll be in the right frame of mind for the England v Algeria game later this evening. A few Bitburgers should do the trick.

In Germany you can experience the disappointment of your team losing while waiting for your tram.

Frankfurt

2010-06-17T21:54:00.001+01:00

A very hot and sweaty concert played to several hundred happy and excited Frankfurters. Danny rather aptly dedicated his performance of "Are You There?" to a chap in the audience called Amir. Most amusing.

2010-06-17T10:23:00.000+01:00

Just arrived in Frankfurt and it's piddling down. Not much to report from Hamburg - good crowd, good local crew, nice take on the traditional ham and cheese load-in grub. All very efficient.

Germany

2010-06-15T22:54:00.004+01:00

Well on our way to Dover and we find ourselves on the bus that took us to Scandinavia and back last autumn, though it's had a lick of paint and a new bog since then. I wonder if that's anything to do with the fact it's also the bus that followed Davina McCall and David Walliams (among others) on their recent charity bike ride for sport relief. Apparently we're much nicer to have on board. With the bus comes top driver and all-round good (dirty-minded) bloke Tim, who never fails to inspire confidence whenever we entrust our lives to him. Among the improvements to the bus, I've noticed the kettle has been replaced, or "upgraded" as some might put it. I wouldn't. The new one glows blue, and when it's ready it spits out exactly one mug's worth of boiling water (note to self: remember to put a mug there). It's not so much a tea's made, more a "water's poured". Now call me old fashioned, but sometimes I want more, or less, than exactly one mug of boiling water. What about my noodles? What about John's "Vesta" ready meals (which I haven't come across since the 1980s)? What if I want tea in a small china cup? The possibilities of being annoyed by this thing are probably endless, though I can't think of any more potential grievances right now. Why re-invent the bloody wheel though?

Download 2010..

2010-06-13T10:24:00.009+01:00

..or "Heavy Metal Holidays" as Les so aptly puts it. Anathema played a blinding half hour set and then after a frantic pack down I found my old mate Darren who'd been parked up, patiently waiting until I could get his ticket to him. What followed was booze, food and a stunning set by AC/DC who I expected would be entertaining but not nearly as good as this. Later poor Darren had to wander the campsite and eventually curl up on the grass as an inebriated Jamie had nicked his sleeping quarters, though in his defence Jay had erected two tents and got to sleep in neither.

Shame I didn't get to have a beer with Emily (who I hadn't seen since she was five years old) and her Das Bunk sign - sorry, mobile phone trouble meant I didn't get the message until I was back home. There'll be another time.

Germany on Tuesday and back to the world of bunk.

Matt Rowley is Monitor Man

London

2010-05-24T11:10:00.001+01:00

The near demise of a crow and a motorcyclist were nothing compared to the greenfly genocide on the windscreen of Les's trusty van on our eventful trip down to the capital. An atmospheric show at the Islington Academy was almost cut short due to a baffling technical issue affecting Danny's amp and pedals. It turns out John's china crash had fallen from the drum riser, hitting the switch on the power outlet supplying Dan's side of the stage on its way down. Now what are the chances of that happening? An impromptu acoustic "Are You There?" filled the gap nicely and we were on our way again. It was an excellent gig, and I think everyone's now enjoying a well-earned chill out before Germany in a few weeks.

Ekaterinburg

2010-05-18T13:30:00.022+01:00

(I think I have this figured out - from left to right: Margaret Thatcher, Michaela Strachan, an Anathema pick for whoever correctly guesses the bloke in the glasses. A young Billy Crystal?)

Ekaterinburg was bleak compared to Moscow and St. Petersburg, though nowhere looks particularly appealing when the weather's drab. A sizeable portion of the city's population appear to make their homes in ramshackle tin roofed huts which I imagine would be quite cozy in the winter months when the fire's going. It was odd to find such a well specified venue in the midst of all of this, and I'm still struggling to figure out the meaning of the giant silver blob hanging from a knackered crane at the building's rear.

The food during our visit to Russia was uniformly excellent, goulash soup being a particular highlight for me. I got to try proper Borscht for the first time as well. The meal on the Ural Airlines flight back to Moscow was such a vast improvement on the one served coming in that I can only assume they read what I said about them in my previous post and gave the catering company a massive kick up the backside. So, do fly with them if you wish, they're alright. The BA flight back to Heathrow was great, only a third full and staffed by stewardesses whose sole purpose seemed to be to keep us in food and perfectly chilled booze. To top it all we were chasing a beautiful sunset for much of our journey west, and the view of London as we came in to land was quite simply incredible.

I like Russia a lot. Everyone we met, be they fans, local crew, hotel staff or whoever were friendly and helpful, and the country itself frequently impressed with its sheer scale and rough edged beauty. I find it hard to believe that I spent so much of my early teens terrified the USSR would blow the crap out of us with no more than four minutes notice, though I feel I may have the BBC to blame for that with their gritty apocalyptic dramas of the time. I'm already looking forward to a return visit.

Ronnie James Dio 1942-2010. Much respect.

A conversation between our Russian promoters:

2010-05-17T10:32:00.008+01:00

"Right, we've got an English rock band coming to play a concert tomorrow, they're going to need a hotel for the night."
"Okay, how about this one?"
"How far is it from the venue?"
"Fecking miles away."
"That sounds perfect. Ah, hang on a minute, it's quite close to the airport."
"You're right, I didn't notice that. There is another one that's sodding well hours away from both the airport and the venue."
"That sounds good, we'll stick them in that one."
"They're going to want to eat tomorrow lunchtime. We should find a restaurant that takes so long to get to they'll feel they might starve to death by the roadside before they get even halfway there."
"Yes, and it should have seventies funk-disco music playing continuously while they eat."
"I know of a place which satisfies both criteria."
"Good. Then let me ask you a question. For the drive there, how bumpy will the roads be?"
"Incredibly so."
"Excellent, book it immediately."

"It seems our arrangements for the band are complete. Lets have some vodka."
"Cheers."

Moscow

2010-05-16T15:06:00.006+01:00

More post-gig drunken shenanigans at the Tochka Club last night after a well attended and entertaining show. Lord knows what time everyone got back to the hotel but it took a major feat of people-management (and white knuckle driving) to get everybody up and to the airport in time for the flight to Ekaterinburg, upon which was cheerlessly served the worst meal in the history of air travel, unless of course greasy pressed ham and horrible cake are your kind of thing. The stewardess burned me twice with her kettle, the dimwit, and this was while she was apologising to another passenger for spilling water over him. Don't fly Ural Airlines, even if they advertise on this page. Russia seems to be caught up in a bumpiest roads contest with Turkey, and I tell you, if I were a betting man I'd have trouble deciding who to put my well-earned fiver on right now. We're starting to wonder if we'll get back to the UK on schedule, what with that pesky volcano and the looming BA strike.

St. Petersburg

2010-05-15T21:54:00.005+01:00

It was a jolly good gig enjoyed by many in the worryingly crumbling city of St. Petersburg where I can honestly say I've never seen such filthy cars - all of them covered in a thick layer of light brown dust. Come to think of it, I don't think we passed a single car wash on our excessively long journey from the hotel to the venue so perhaps the two phenomena are related. After the show we boarded the overnight train to Moscow, a most agreeable mode of transport unless you're the poor sods in the compartment next to the vodka-fuelled big sweaty man's singing competition which regretably I missed by retiring to my cabin early like a good guitar tech. Les has been taking full advantage of the legendary Russian hospitality by having Kellog's Vodka Flakes for breakfast (part of your five a day over here) making for some incredibly artful swearing at all sorts of odd hours, though I must say there have been far too many utterances regarding "hairy arses" and suchlike for my sensitive ears. He also has a new and novel means of finding his way home should he become lost.

About to have dinner in the excellent Tochka club in Moscow. Might go for the ribeye steak.

Thank You Sporty Much!

2010-05-15T09:11:00.000+01:00

Russia

2010-05-13T15:22:00.008+01:00

Another flight at bollocks o'clock (or bollocks-hundred hours if you've done military service) in the morning from Heathrow meaning a through-the-night slog down the M6 from Heckmondwike via Liverpool. Basically you miss a night's sleep doing it this way, one you'll never get a chance to catch up on. I bet I missed some great dreams. The fatigue does make for quite a pleasant floaty feeling on the plane after a couple of ales though, and conveniently helps one overlook the rude behaviour of French fellow passengers (you know who you are Madame avec le gros cul). Mark (from Cornwall) quite sensibly booked himself a hotel room near the airport for the night so he's nice and fresh, the bastard. Now why didn't I think of that? Les was most impressed with Terminal 5, particularly the thoughtful inclusion of a bar right next to our boarding gate. I don't know how but we managed to shrink our check-in baggage tally to nine items from nineteen - a miracle of downsizing if ever I saw one, though Dan still carries with him a suitcase the size of a chest freezer. First time flying with British Airways for me - might as well have been EasyJet. Most unremarkable. Our Russian hosts met us at the airport. They are called Igor and Dmitri. It's like arriving in Scotland and being met by Jimmy McSporran. Perfect.

Only with this band...

2010-05-10T21:17:00.003+01:00

...would you find yourself printing Russian visa applications in the back of a van in the car park of the Staines branch of PC World having just got off a flight from Istanbul after an insane bus ride through perilous terrain at the end of six days hard slog with little sleep and sporadic feasts and an absolute ton of laughs. Beats working in an office.

See you in St Petersburg on Thursday morning.

Today's workplace...

2010-05-09T15:08:00.000+01:00

...and I take it all back. The local crew in Izmir (a company called Diva) have been superb. They even keep the cables tidy.

Sleep

2010-05-09T08:39:00.016+01:00

Why is it so difficult to sleep on this bus? It's a nice bus, kitted out like a narrow boat on wheels - you can't look anywhere without seeing polished wood of some description. The bunks are comfortable and spacious (with a full window this time) and all the facilities one would expect are present and correct - playstation, dvd, well-stocked fridge, etc. Ooh, and wifi! Maybe it's the schedule we've been keeping? Once we're loaded up and ready to go it's generally gone two in the morning and that often heralds the first chance we've had to get something decent to eat all day. Or maybe it's the bumpiness of the Turkish roads? It seems you can't go more than two hundred yards in this country without feeling you've driven over a badly designed cattle grid. Or some cattle. You're continually being jolted awake from your shallow slumber, all the while fearing that if the driver takes the next corner too speedily you might find yourself in a heap among the socks in the aisle. Then again it could be the heat. The bus has excellent air conditioning, though unfortunately it's being rationed like food in a Dickensian workhouse. When asked to turn it on the driver cheerily obliges, as he should as the band are paying for it, but then works under the assumption that this will be the only occasion, ever, that we will require cool air. Surely it should have clicked by now, after the quadrillionth time of being asked? If it's hot (which it is, every day) turn the damn thing on. I can hear Bill Hicks' father now as he responds to his son's request for the blessed relief of air-con as they drive through the baking heat of Arizona.

"No son, it eats gas."

One generally wakes feeling mildly roughed up, coupled with the disconcerting feeling that someone's been trying to smother you with hot, damp smelly towels. Not ideal at all.

Didn't see much of Istanbul and Ankara unfortunately, partly due to the Turkish plague of half-arsed venue staff doubling or trebling the time it takes us to set up with their incompetence and lethargy. Moan, moan, moan.

On a lighter note, it's a lovely morning and we're heading to Izmir by the sea for the last show of the tour, and it's open-air. Should be a good day.

Why is this brand unavailable in the UK?

2010-05-08T08:46:00.003+01:00

click on photo for larger view

Bursa, continued...

2010-05-07T10:46:00.012+01:00

Bursa was just one of those gigs. It took hours and hours to set up as we were beset with so many problems (courtesy of the shittiness of the venue's equipment) that Matt almost resorted to a strike ballot within his one-man union, so miffed was he. The in-house sound guy was so lackadaisical in everything he set his mind to (or didn't) we may as well have asked the luxuriously moustached tea/popcorn dude to sort out the stage for us. The chaps who turned up with the front-of-house mixing desk suggested new tone-meister Mark Ellis position himself behind a solid pillar, lest the precious board get damaged, meaning he would neither see nor hear the band. Then to cap it all the on-stage monitoring system conked out almost before a note had been played, which merely made Matt more miffed. I also ended up doing the light show (actually two lights - must ask for a lampy bonus), this being one more thing the useless venue staff couldn't have cared less about.

"Welcome to Turkey," as our helpful local roadie Mustafa so aptly put it.

Looks like a hung parliament back home. I expect much impassioned political discourse on the bus today.

Bursa (apparently kebab capital of Turkey)

2010-05-06T14:34:00.003+01:00

Day four (gig three) of our Turkish excursion and bunk flu has me firmly in its grip. Yesterday I felt dreadful and today I feel like shit, so thankfully there has been some measurable improvement. The germ-spreading capabilities of the onboard air conditioning system are of course to blame, the source of the outbreak almost certainly traceable to the bunk of monitor engineer Matt Rowley who's been coughing continually since we checked in at Heathrow.

The technical specs in the venues have been going steadily down hill since we started - today in Bursa we have equipment seemingly supplied by the Turkish equivalent of the Early Learning Centre. In Eskisehir last night we battled shoddy electrics, frankly bizarre mixing desk placement, a ragtag band of misfit mic stands that would not do as they were asked and a stage that, being honest, would have really benefited from a good hoovering. But, as is often the case in these situations, the gig sounded great. I guess it must fire the band up having to battle against the odds to put on a show.

Time for load in now, this time fuelled by a breakfast comprised of Les's delicious birthday cake and an ice lolly.

Antalya

2010-05-05T12:57:00.002+01:00

A free concert in the beautiful Ataturk Culture Park where the audience were forced to share the area in front of the impossibly high stage with shrubs and hedgerows, presumably quite an inconvenience for some of them. As the show drew to a close the band were extremely honoured to accept a floral tribute from no less a notable than the minister for culture himself, graciously received by Vincent who proved himself a dignified and worthy ambassador, not only for Anathema, but for the UK music industry as a whole.

Best not get too used to this..

2010-05-04T08:07:00.006+01:00

My view from my balcony as I write this, shortly after breakfast at the Porto Bello hotel in Antalya. Our Turkish promoters have very kindly put us up here for a much needed rest, our yellow wristbands indicating we can help ourselves to anything the hotel has to offer with complete impunity. I'd say it's a lucky escape for them being that we're all too knackered to take full advantage of such a kind offer, and bearing in mind we reportedly ate, drank and telephoned our way through fifteen hundred dollars in two days during the infamous "Black Cat" debacle in Tunisia last year. After the show tonight (a free one in a big park with Anathema headlining) we'll be boarding the tour bus where I imagine conditions will be somewhat different.

2010-05-02T11:02:00.001+01:00

On my way to meet the band for our six-day jaunt around Turkey. Should be a lot of fun.

4th May Antalya

5th May Eskisehir

6th May Bursa

7th May Istanbul

8th May Ankara

9th May Izmir

Hope the bus has decent air-con.

Drachten

2010-04-26T20:09:00.008+01:00

Bit of a funny gig really, what with the mysterious and rather large stranger getting in my way at the side of the stage, the most feeble drunken stage invasion I've ever witnessed, and my utter conviction that I'd been belmed at for no good reason, knocking my chipper mood for six. It all came good in the end as it always does somehow, and thankfully the post-show shower was nice and hot. Dinner was lovely as well - top marks to the chef.

The ferry ride home from Zebrugge (much nicer than the Rotterdam boat) almost rivalled the now legendary Stockholm/Helsinki Viking Line crossing for sheer bizarre drunken tedium. This time we had loudly farting pensioners, cabaret turn Rocker-Fella sticking noodly guitar solos where they're least wanted in his you'll-never-guess-what-I'm-going-to-play-next set, and a hyperactive French version of the Kids from Fame leaping about the place. I also experienced what it feels like to eat the world's most disappointing pizza.

Turkey next week.

Dordrecht

2010-04-24T02:00:00.000+01:00

Great gig in another converted church (Rock 2 - God nil) in the handsome, historic town of Dordrecht with its jauntily-angled buildings and surfeit of elegant river craft. Whilst the front row at the Deventer gig had representatives from the "gran-athema" contingent, Dordrecht had the other end of the spectrum amply covered with three fine young lads air-guitaring and singing along with youthful vigour. I'm not so sure about the devil sign/yawning combo one displayed - must have been a little past his bed time. I'm also harbouring the suspicion that some of our missing picks ended up in his pocket. You know who you are. Anyway, it seems Anathema can truly claim to be a group that appeals to all ages. There's a lot of pension/pocket money to be had out there.

Deventer

2010-04-23T01:13:00.011+01:00

It may not look like much from the outside but our bus for these three Dutch shows might just be my favourite yet, despite its obvious flaws. The bunks are most capacious, though the curtains (providing much-needed privacy) wouldn't look out of place in your granny's bungalow. The kitchen is far better designed than others I've come across, though its situation on the top deck means something as simple as making a cup of tea can be a hair-raising and potentially life-threatening experience. We have three lounges (including one at the front - essential in my opinion) but nothing to match the original travellers' arms from my first European tour a couple of years ago. Swings and roundabouts really.

The Deventer gig was a classic "airing new material" kind of a show. It sounded great from where I was standing, despite Vincent's Electro-sodding-Harmonix pedals messing with my head once again by not working at the most awkward of moments. They sound tremendous but don't travel well. It may be time for a rethink. Anyway, always nice to be in the Netherlands - good place, good people.

Finally..

2010-04-20T15:28:00.003+01:00

..only one more day and we'll be boarding the North Sea Ferry (only ten minutes away from me), bound for the Netherlands and three shows which could not be more welcome for so many reasons. I will be reporting from the bunk so be sure to stay tuned for all the latest news, comment and analysis.

Not long now.

2010-03-23T19:02:00.004Z

Anathema's much-anticipated new album will be released on My 31st and the first shows in a long while are just a few weeks away. It's been a long, cold winter.

2010-01-26T08:51:00.002Z

Old news for many of you but the first dates of 2010 have been announced on Anathema's official website. So far in April we have Deventer, Dordrecht and Drachten, part of what's shaping up to be the places beginning with "D" tour. Then in May there's three dates in Turkey followed by a couple in Russia. Can't wait to get on the road again.

See you next year

2009-12-03T12:37:00.005Z

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

2009-11-16T12:12:00.035Z

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..

2009-11-09T19:35:00.008Z

...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

2009-10-25T16:48:00.009Z

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:

2009-10-05T09:58:00.011+01:00

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:

2009-09-25T07:44:00.005+01:00

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

2009-09-22T17:42:00.010+01:00

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

2009-09-18T10:05:00.010+01:00

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.