See the smiling faces of the crew as they gather in the hotel lobby eager to start another day in the glorious cavalcade that is rock'n'roll. Comedy genius Miami Dave provides the first big laugh when he appears clutching his new digital camera, purchased the day before at the airport.We all line up ready to have our photo taken but there's a problem. Using all his technical knowhow the previous night Miami Dave had plugged his camera in to charge it up but had forgotten to put the battery in. Result. No power. And to think that this man is allowed to run riot with thousands of pounds worth of equipment.
All aboard a little minibus and I am immediately struck dumb by the presence on our humble vehicle of Kurt Wagner, singer with Lambchop. The mighty LAMBCHOP!!!! THE MIGHTY CHOP!!! On our bus!!! I can't speak I just stare. We travel to the festival site and all tumble off the bus. I kind of hang around with the intention of saying hello to Kurt. Eventually after two or three failed attempts I pluck up the courage and say hello. He is very friendly and I have my photo taken with him and the rest of the band. Ahh! Life doesn't get much better than this.
We spend some time doing plugging in and noise stuff and generally trying to justify our enormous wage packets. One of Steve's basses falls to bits and I start pulling it apart and soldering up loose wires. Before I know it I'm surrounded by technicians eager to help, so eager that I'm gently edged out of the way and end up looking over someones shoulder trying to see what's going on.
We have a few hours to kill before the gig and there just happens to be a go-cart track next door. Next thing I know I'm pottering around the track at about 20mph while Des, Beeves, Abbiss and Miami Dave scream past at speeds in excess of 120mph.
Back at the site we clear out catering and I start to get excited about the prospect of seeing Lambchop. Danny and me go out into the crowd because we reckon that the sound will be better out there. Knowing the horrendous racket that Miami Dave manages to wring out of the wedges during an Embrace gig this seems to be the best option. Only joking Miami.
Lambchop are great even though there are only 4 of them as opposed to the usual 13. Mickey Dale and me go backstage afterwards to get some CDs signed and they seem pleased to see us. I try to tell Kurt how much I love his band without sounding too pathetic. I can't really put into words how his music affects me without sounding like a gibbering fool. He seems to get the message though and offers me a drink. Being the true professionals that we are, we normally don't drink before a show (T. P. please take note) but on this occasion I make an exception. Kurt pours me a giant vodka and we chat for a while. I'm grinning like an idiot, but a happy idiot.
Back over to our stage where we throw gear about for 10 frantic minutes in an attempt to set up the equipment in record time for the arrival of our heroes, Embrace.
The gig is a real stormer. Everything works, nothing falls apart mid-song and Rick even manages to get his guitar solos right! We pack all the gear down, go back to the dressing room for a wee dram and meet up with Pablo, the percussionist with Joe Strummer, a lovely man who just happens to be mad as a fish. We get on another bus taking us back to the hotel and have to listen to the most boring man in the world with the loudest voice in the world giving us his opinion on everything. Boring sad fucker.
Arrive at the hotel about 2:30am. We have to check out in an hour, so there's just time for a quick shower and a bit of target practice on the TV. No sleep tonight then. |
