Just to remind ourselves how to play the tunes, we decided to have a wee mini-tour last week covering both The Frozen North in the shape of a return to Inverness, and the comparitively sub-tropical swelter of the recently renamed Borisland Metropolis And Olympic Village to the south, with a few in between (mainly because we can’t abide long drives, or indeed long periods of time anywhere in a confined space with Jim and his Champ-Man Running Commentary Disorder).
We left Edinburgh for Inverness on a beautiful “Spring-has-sprung”
morning, with rabbits hopping in the central reservations and lambs
gamboling in the car park of the Gala Casino, but it was not far north
of Perth when we realised that nobody had told these highlanders it
wasn’t still winter. It was infact snowing. Luckily we got through by
the sheer momentum of our massively overloaded van, and made it to
Moray Firth Radio in time for a quick coffee and acoustic session. De
Rosa were loitering in the lobby having just done one themselves, and
our paths would cross further as they were playing the upstairs venue
of Hootananny that very same evening as we were downstairs. Spooky.
The night was being run by Dougie who had promoted the shows for the
Loop The Loop tour at the back end of last year, and once again was as
smooth as anyone could have hoped for. We were playing longer sets this
time round and it was good to see that we could still remember things
like And They All Fell Into The Sea, and that the crowd didn’t get
bored half way through and just wander off. This is Inverness though,
and they do make a more “hard-core” breed of gig goer up here. Indeed,
there was even some dancing going on, and not just Ian’s trademark
“Burlesque Shoogle”.
Saturday was a little different, we were playing in Bedlam Theatre in
Edinburgh, a converted church with but 100, all seated, tickets
available. We got there at midday to start setting up, as all the PA
equiptment was being brought in, and we wanted plenty of time to
soundcheck with Kas being in the unusual position of up a ladder on the
balcony. Everytime he climbed down to have a listen one of us would,
quite unintentionally, request some kind of adjustment to something in
a monitor, necessitating another trip up the ladder. It was all getting
a bit “Chuckie Egg” (note the Eighties computer game reference there,
trying to connect with the hip young audiences), but finally everything
came together before the massive duck flew out of the cage and
terrorised us all. We had some extra items on the stage, Dave’s
harmonium and T’s Massive Organ (matron, etc.), as well as a selection
of items wrangled from the huge pile of old stage props upstairs by
Emily. Doc had a rocking chair and a standard lamp, and was considering
playing the gig in his slippers at one point. Just his slippers.
Woodenbox with A Fistfull of Fivers opened the night, and played a
great set, (the beginning of which I unfortunately missed as for some
reason I had chosen to move house on this particular day…). We were a
bit worried about how the seated venue would work but we had a great
night, playing the full album, with the addition of a few songs from
the recent acoustic EP, Lessons Never Learnt which hasn’t been out for
a long long time, the album bonus tracks, and an unexpected rendition
of a new and un-named offering at the end just for fun. I haven’t
enjoyed a gig as much for a while, big grins all round on stage, and a
good night had by all.
Monday saw us return to the Ruby Lounge in Manchester, this time
without fear of the hardcore industrial metal night being started
during the end of Slow Parade (as occured last time we were here) but
sadly without a bevvy of strippers in the dressing room this time
around. However the night was better attended than last time (always a
good sign!), and things seemed to go pretty well. We then had our first
night of Luxury Accommodation for this year, two Travelodge family
rooms. It seems they have changed the rules somewhat for 2009 as they
were actually questioning how many of us would be in each room, and
denying us extra bedding as we were over the arbitary limit of three
adults per room, so in future we may have to up it to the (admittedly
more comfortable for all concerned…) full complement of three rooms.
After a few beers and some BBC News 24 everyone slept soundly, bedding
or not. For some reason I tend to sleep better and longer per night
when we are away than I do at home.
The next night was London, playing at Monto Water Rats with support
from De Rosa who had made their way down from Inverness over the
weekend via I think Newcastle, Leeds etc. This was a pretty mental
night, the place was packed out and the whole thing was very energetic.
It was a steamy van that afterwards made it’s way back to Wandsworth
and the Beggar’s flat at Alma Road, just ten minutes too late for Dave
to head round the corner for a round of Chicken Cottage suppers.
Last time we stayed here was almost a year ago before we went to
Amsterdam, and we had to get up around 4 in the morning. This time it
was a more leisurely affair, the destination was Birmingham so there
was no requirement to get up before 11. We popped into the office
downstairs to say cheerio to Roger and set off with no real haste for
the Glee Club. This was another unusual venue, more often used as a
comedy venue I think (hence the name), and we were in the small Studio
Room, which was set out as if for a stand up, with seats arranged in
tiered rows. Kas had his “oh well”, half-grinning, face on when he was
told there were no subs in the venue, but things came together as these
things do and the set was alright at the end of the day. It seemed a
bit harder with a seated audience, a little bit like being on Question
Time. As I was sitting at the back I decided to award myself the name
“Dimbleby” for the duration. Ian I had down as some guest Guardian
columnist, say a bearded Polly Toynbee, Doc as maybe a deranged TV
academic figure, like your man Simon Schama I think it is, etc. And for
Dave, of course, it had to be a ginger Anne Widdecombe. And it was
these thoughts that kept me going, worryingly.
The last night was Leeds’ Brudenell, a proper social club but also a
venue which has played hosted to many well known acts in it’s time. We
arrived quite early having been turfed out of the hotel at 12 and only
having a short drive, so we waited outside in the sun eating pork pies
and chaining cigarettes until someone came to open the club. Kas was
pleased to have subs again and it was good to be on an actual stage,
and the soundcheck went by without incident. We popped off for some
munch at the nearby Grove Cafe, where I attempted to eat the greasiest
pizza in the world, which rather disgustingly came back up several
times throughout the night, even as late on as the intro to Good
Reason. That’s not to say it wasn’t good, it was delicious, but it
didn’t do me any favours at all. We started a little later as the night
was running quite informally, the main support Curtis Eller had after
all come all the way from New York on the first night of his tour, and
he really worked at getting everyone involved in the set, running round
the room with his banjo and literally getting up in people’s faces
which was great to watch. We tried to get away sharpish afterwards as
it was a drive back to Edinburgh on the Pony Express that night, so
there wasn’t a lot of post-gig post-mortem going on, suffice to say it
seemed hard work from the stage but it went down well, and all in all
the tour was deemed a success. It was good to get back into it as it
really does seem like a while now what with recording and so on, and I
now can’t wait for the album tour, details of which will be announced
in the not-too-distant future.
Thanks again to everyone who turned out, and we will see you soon…
Anyhoo, ‘night all!
BR xx
