Inter-National Funtimes

Last week we took the long drive to the Netherlands (not as bad as it sounds as we did take a night in London on the way…) to play the first of three nights supporting The National, at the Paradiso in Amsterdam. This was something of an “off-again-on-again” gig as nobody had predicted the Dutch win over Brazil in the World Cup, a victory which resulted in their semi-final being schedulled to kick off right in the middle of The National’s set. After some jiggery-pokery with the timings the gig was rescheduled to play before the kick off, meaning that we got on at six as doors opened, but also meaning we got off at half six, got to pack up and watch not only The National but the whole match as well, so silver linings a-plenty…

It was a gloriously sunny day in Amsterdam when we arrived on Tuesday
afternoon, and sitting by the canal drinking coffee had never seemed
more appealing, but there was the small matter of soundcheck to be dealt
with first. This was our first gig with Craig standing in for Gill on
bass and guitar, and it was a great place to start, the main room at
Paradiso having played host to some of the biggest names in music over
the years, and one which we have wanted to play in since we were in the
upper room at London Calling two years back. So no pressure then…

The gig went swimmingly in spite of the early start, indeed most people
seemed to have got the message that the times they were a-changing and
showed up early too. I was suffering the fear due to being too far
forward on the stage (it is my firm belief that drummers should be
heard, and not seen…) but it is almost always the case that when I
come off moaning, everyone else has had a belter. We quickly threw the
gear off stage (literally) and packed up outside in the sun before
returning to watch The National from the upstairs balcony. They had
pulled out all the stops to woo the Dutch crowd, turning up in a bright
orange tourbus, arriving on stage all dressed in orange
suits/Netherlands football strips etc., not that the crowd needed much
wooing by the looks of it. After they played a massive screen was rolled
out and the football kicked off, which was an awesome end to an already
great night, watching the Dutch dispense with Uruguay in a nail-biting 3
- 2 victory along with 1500 mental fans.
The atmosphere in town afterwards was absolutely insane, not something
that we’ve been used to as Scotland supporters over the years (mainly
due to a lack of anything to celebrate). Thousands of people were
pouring into the streets from the main squares, throwing themselves onto
the front of trams, singing and generally going nuts. You could have
been forgiven for thinking they had won the whole thing already. We
spent some time trawling round soaking up the atmosphere (and beer), and
running away from the quite frankly terrifying police horses (as Craig
put it, “Wow, it’s got such a…big face, man”), before heading back to
our hostel abode with the chants of “kampioen” still ringing in our
ears.

The next morning was a bit of a toughy, as we had decided it best to
unload the gear and pack the van in the morning, foolishly not counting
on hangovers to be an issue. However the drive to Utrecht was mercifully
short (no A/C in the van, and no opening windows in the back. Ouch.).
and we arrived with enough time to eat the world’s biggest burger (me)
or salad (everyone else), and then spend a large part of the afternoon
sitting by the canal, drinking coffee, and eating sandwiches, before
soundcheck. By this stage of proceedings we were speaking to each other
solely in faux American or borderline racist Sean-Connery-psuedo-Dutch
accents, much to the amusement of no-one in the Tivoli except ourselves,
and even then only marginally.

I enjoyed the gig more this time, and the venue was busy from the outset
which was nice. We once again opted to leave the gear in the venue,
having learnt nothing from that morning, and headed into Utrecht to
check out the clubs, all of which it turns out bear a striking
resemblence to Edinburgh’s own Garibaldi’s. Jesus. It was a late one,
but tomorrow was a day of travelling to London so it couldn’t be that
bad, could it?

How wrong could I be? Find out in Part 2 tomorrow…