We arose at what I like to call “stupid o’clock” on Thursday, with my alarm going off horribly at 5am. It is that kind of time when you realise you would have been better off just not going to bed at all, but we had to set off from The Stables at around 6 to ensure we arrived in London at a reasonable hour. The journey itself followed the line of long, boring and sleepy, but we arrived on time for some of us to go to Gibson and get a lend of some lovely guitars, and the non-lutists amongst us to go on a miscellaneous bits and bobs buying mission. Myself and Arne trawled most of Denmark Street which has about 2000 music shops in it (well, it seemed like 2000) before returning to the van to head for the photoshoot.
This was our first time in a proper studio and we started the session by popping next door to the cafe to down some rejuvenating coffees and try to make ourselves look vaguely awake. We noted that everyone else in the buiding was very smartly attired in black suits and ties and it became apparent after a few moments that we had rather awkwardly and mob-handedly crashed a wake, so we took our coffees outside onto the bobbing riverside deck and had a few cigarettes before heading back in to get into our best mannequin poses. Jim was first up and looked a little perturbed by the…em…”topless” nature of the shots, but photographer John reassured him it was not a “page 3″ type effort, and that the shirts would be added afterwards with the power of modern technology. Despite being a pretty involved process, with everyone being shot individually, it was actually pretty quick, and it will be interesting to see how it looks once all the elements are put together.
We were all quite happy with how it went and decided to go round to the pub for a beer while we had both Barry and Grant in the same room, then shot off to Medway for quite possibly the most dangerously greasy pizza I have ever eaten (anything that comes with ten free mini doughnuts is a disaster waiting to happen) then some sleep before another early start (I say early start, but to be honest it was a lie in compared to the previous day…) to get us to Dover in time to check in for the ferry to Calais. We were going back to the Netherlands for the first time since London Calling at the Paradiso in Amsterdam back in April, and everyone was looking forward to it after the great time we had previously. We were also excited to be going to two new cities over the weekend, which gave the whole trip a bit of a holiday vibe. The first night was supporting the Black Keys at Tivoli in Utrecht, and after a pit stop in Belgium (where Dave cunningly moved the van behind some trucks whilst I was buying some water – cheers, that joke will never get old…) we arrived at the outskirts of the city listening to “Harmonica Hour” on a local radio station and with a strange smoke rising from under the bonnet (which was helpfully pointed out to us by several passing motorists). This situation appeared to rectify itself and we negotiated the narrow streets to the venue without killing any cyclists which was a definite plus. Utrecht is not really designed with the motor car in mind, and certainly not designed for the long Merc Sprinter we were driving. However we did get there to time and unloaded while the main support, Liam Finn, was doing his soundcheck.
The Tivoli is a pretty big venue with a very deep stage, and as the Black Keys had their drum riser up at the front stage right, we took up a sort of 3-3-1 formation in the remaining space. I found myself quite detached from the action at the back but I did have a very nice rug to play on which really tied the room together (in the parlance of our times…). The soundcheck went pretty well and being first on, we were able to leave everything lying at our collective arse, and stroll on at half seven for what felt like a very brief half hour set. The venue was filling up slowly but steadily and things went pretty well. We played: Nearly Home, If The News…, “Ukulele Song”, Eilert, Good Reason, Slow Parade, then I ran off the stage to be sick in the bin in front of Grant, which he found terribly amusing (the dangers of not eating before playing I think), then packed up quickly and settled down for some tea (including profiteroles! Woo) followed by a wander round Utrecht as the snow started to come down. There are some great buildings there, and a sort of “sub level” by the canals with small cafes and bars below street level under the canalside roads. We went to have a look at the stunning Dom Tower, part of the Catherdral of St Martin, of which there is now just the tower and the main Dom Church with a large empty space between them where the nave used to be. Everything is built out of the thinnest bricks, including the roads, and there must be millions upon millions of them in the construction of Utrecht centre. We found ourselves a nice pub for a few jars as the sleet moved in, as Grant went to grab the van.
Snow falling in Utrecht
When we returned to the venue, Arne and Ian were selling snow to eskimos on the merch stall, and the place was rapidly emptying. We headed round to our hostel for the night to get some beds organised (with lovely plastic mattresses) then popped round to a wee pub for a few bottles of Westmalle Tripel and some cigarettes (indoors!). The place was lively, the beer was strong, and eventually everyone succumbed to the need for bed and walked out into what was now the snowy streets to make our way back to the hostel.
The next morning we went out in search of waffles, pancakes, coffee and general European breakfast materials, with slightly woolly heads but only a short drive ahead of us to Den Haag (The Hague) so in no particular rush. The sun was out, although it was still quite freezing, and I took off for a little walk round the adjoining streets before bumping into Arne (on a search for waffles) and Gill and dandering through the Saturday morning flower market. We all met up back at the cafe and set off for Den Haag feeling quite rejuvenated.
Continues shortly…
