Evile Infecting Nations 2010 tour. Part 3.

Fuck about last night was vicious! Hang over city on the bus this morning I can tell you. And, the bus is in total darkness ‘cause we can’t get hooked up to the clubs power ‘till some one comes and opens it. And, I have just come on my period. Today can die.

Chucking my clothes on as fast as I can in such a hung dog state, I bump in to Lyall in our little bus hallway and ask where the public toilets are. He starts telling me, I yell at him quietly in true maniac pre-menstrual womanly finesse that he can fucking come with me ‘cause I’m not about to wonder round his home town in this state looking for a necessary convenience that one should not have to leave one’s abode to fucking use.

We are in York, hometown of our formidable Tour Manager Lyall and Britain’s most haunted pub. Apparently. Blah. York is fucking beautiful and the other two bands enjoyed wandering round it.

Lyall quickly becomes my hero for the day by telling me that we are going round his mum’s house to grab a hot shower while everyone is still asleep and I try and hold it together and not cry! I haul my shit together at the bus and curtail it out of there and on to the more normal run of the mill bus up to Lyall’s mums house.

I could not get out of the shower, it was like the best thing in the whole fucking world and the first time I had been warm in what seemed like forever. If it wasn’t for Lyall needing it next I would have stayed in it till the water ran cold for fucking sure! By the time he’s done, I’ve pimped myself up and look decent enough to d=face humanity again.

Tesco’s gets a visit for a fry up but fails to deliver and we are left eating shit macaroni cheese and potato’s instead. Adam, the guitarist from Warbringer rang to tell Lyall him and The Fading boys were off on a wander and I took great delight in telling him about my hot shower incurring plenty of name calling off him. Adam is my fave I reckon, he looks like Jay from Jay and silent Bob and is funny as fuck. Proper dry, British sense of humour, sly like. He’s great to hang out with and chat, him and Lyall have been up till the morning chatting about random shit every night so far. Very intelligent guy.

Slowly but surely the stories of last nights shenanigans start to creep out of our mouths. We are still coming clean about our crimes and sins on the bus back to…the bus. Turns out there was way more misbehaving than I was aware of, and yet again I feel proud and honoured to be amongst such bastions of society! I think Lyall didn’t notice the old grannies sitting around him as he regaled me with filthy antics although knowing Lyall he probably wasn’t that arsed anyway. Needless to say I laughed till I cried and suddenly the world was O.K again! Filthy beggar.

Back at the bus I power napped away the next three hours in a bid to stop feeling like such shit and Lyall woke me after the load in had been done, bless those boys I really needed to not be loading in. Win.

So still I’m finding it difficult to write but finally I manage to get some words down on the laptop and before I know it I’ve actually posted! Thank fuck for that. Jeez. I set up the stand, get my shit together and go outside for one last ciggie before doors open. There are already people queuing, which is rad, and York turns out to be a successful merch night and a great gig for all three bands. In fact it was the best so far.

The Fading get a great response, Warbringer get a circle pit going and we find out later that Lyall’s mate Richard broke two fingers in it! Awesome. The Fading are getting so much better with each gig, it’s amazing to watch the progression. Warbringer are a fucking shit hot band, Laux is an outstanding , mesmerising guitarist, Kevill is totally with the audience the whole way through to the point where I always think he’s about to launch himself in and join them, Adam is banging his head throughout and Nic is holding it all together at the back.

A tired but very happy bunch of metal misfits traipse on to the bus after loading out and after a couple of hours of chilling, of video games, a few drinks, and some net surfing, everyone’s wanders off to bunks and all is quiet at a reasonably early time of about 3am.

Evile Infecting Nations 2010 tour. Part 2.

Wrexham. Wales. I wake up all cosy in my bunk, at some point I must have stopped being freezing and started being boiling in my hoody, tracksuit bottoms and socks ‘cause now I’m sleeping in a reasonable amount of clothing. I climb out and stagger to the toilet, head fuzzy with a bit of hangover and find a delightful notice stuck to the seat informing me that the toilet hasn’t been emptied and is full of wee. Lovely. Seems Steve our driver didn’t count on us drinking quite so much and therefore having to get rid of quite so much eh! Tut tut. I chuck my bon Jovi boots on, that Lyall put in the freezer last night when we were all drunk, throw on some layers and trek off to find a café that will let me use their pisser.

Me mum gives me a call, to see not just how I am, but how the guys are holding up. She met them and Mike when they came to pick me up on the last tour and being a typical mum is full of worry and concerns. Bless her. I’m not sure that when she was raising me she would have been happy to know that one day she would be talking to me over the phone while I’m wandering around Wales looking for somewhere to piss, you know the tone of voice I’m talking about! Still, I tell her last night went well and promise her that I will behave ( Don’t worry, I crossed fingers) and head back to the bus.

Matt, the front man of Evile and Joel are watching Back to the Future in the kitchen, so I sit with them and watch the man flick while at the same time being horrified by how many microwave burgers are being zapped by The Fading. The smell is rank and me and Joel have to step off the bus several times to get some fresh ciggie air.

Once the venue is opened, we unload the gear in yet more freezing weather. Warbringer sleep through, jet lag and hung over no doubt! I find the ladies toilets and set about baby wipe washing since there are no showers for us today. I feel worrying clean and refreshed after that but still look forward to Manchester where I can drop in on my big bro’ and have a bath!

The venue we are in tonight is weird, one of the staff is shit and I’m feeling a bit off about the whole thing. We chow down our food, which has been cooked by the café attached to the venue while watching The Simpsons and then all get about our tasks, sound checking, instrument maintenance and merch stall set up.

Setting up the stand tonight is way easier ‘cause I know all the stock and I packed the boxes the night before, it looks pretty rad and I start getting excited about the night ahead. Until that is, I find out some rather worrying news. Low ticket sales. Fuck. By the time Evile come on stage, there are fifty-one people. 51 fucking people. As you can imagine, I sold out of stock completely and we all went home. Sold out of all three bands stock. Did I fuck, jeez, the few people who had come were obviously so broke they couldn’t even shell out a quid for a fucking sticker.

So I’m just kicking back really, getting a bit tipsy, watching the show. The Fading Bassist has been playing bass for Warbringer too. Warbringer’s bassist is unable to make the first two weeks of the tour due to health reasons and so Elad has amazingly learnt all the songs and is playing both gigs every night! What a fucking legend. There have been drum kit issues too. Ben from Evile is letting the other two drummers use his gear and Nic from Warbringer is having trouble working on it. Other than this the gig is going well considering there is barely anyone there!

During Evile’s set I start missing Mike massively. Then I well up. Then I have to go to the toilet and I lock myself in a cubicle and fucking cry like a bitch. This would be the low after the high of last night. I was so intent on last night being amazing, first gig back and all. So intent on being all stiff upper lip for the guys, who rightfully do not need people around them who are finding it hard when you can only imagine what this is like for them.

Tonight was the bitch slap, wake up call, loudspeaker in your face…Mike’s not here. Evile are on tour. Everything reminds you of Mike, of Sweden and that day in Sweden, at least half a dozen times a day you catch yourself thinking where’s Mike? Forgetting that he isn’t on tour. I still expect him to be there, it’s fucking weird and upsetting. I get it out my system, and get back out there. Lyall is right, there’s only one thing for it, drink a lot.

We pack up and hit the bar in earnest. I am a serious drinker at the best of times but tonight I’m trying to forget that this tour is actually quite fucking sad and hard and that subsequently I have severe writers block and still cannot write anything.

Drinks and dancing later and it’s off to bed. Only joking, not gonna leave out the good stuff eh?! I was necking back the vodka from the rider with Dr.Pepper, there was Jager all over the shop, Lyall and Kevill were doing drinking competitions, Joel and Ben were chugging away, even Ol was out. The Fading and Warbringer boys were all out and the club quickly filled up around us.

Look see, as we all know, what happens on tour, stays on tour. And I realise I’m writing about what happens on tour but you better believe there are juicy bits left out.

Many, many people got lucky that night, some with more than one person, there may have been vomit, there was a stupid fucking amount of booze and eventually there was a ridiculously loud party in the back of the bus between bands before finally everyone resigned themselves to the fact that it was the morning and way past bunk time.

Evile Infecting Nations 2010 tour.

“A woman walks in to the bar and asks for a double entendre, so the Barman gives her one”. Oh Ol Drake you winner you. Least he’s awake and he’s telling jokes, but jeez, bad joke man, bad joke. The dude is not asleep so I’m letting him off. Just this once mind.

Ladies and Gentleman, The Evile infected Nations tour 2010. We have just left Luton Airport and the 18 man Night liner that we are travelling in is packed to the rafters. We have Steve the driver, Lyall the tour manager, Warbringer from L.A who are the main support and The Fading from Israel, the openers. All along for an Evile adventure. Oh and me, Merch girl.

I’m back kid’s, for two weeks only alas, but two weeks none the less, for the U.K leg of a six week tour. First stop, Cardiff, Wales. Nice.

O.K so let me come clean. Cardiff turned out to be such a fucking outstanding night of debauchery that this blog did not get written. And Wrexham? Wrongness till the morn’. So here I sit, still fucking shivering and freezing in Fibbers in York attempting to get everything down before my fingers go numb. Let me tell you what when down…

First sleep was Wednesday night and it was fucking freezing. That’s for starters. And we were only in London. I literally woke up shivering on way too many occassions throughout the night, parked up there in the underground car park. Kinda dreading getting up North to be honest because this is only gonna get worse, especially when you add lack of sleep and food in to the equation.

The bus dynamics are predictable for day 1, the Evile lot are up at the front chatting, The Fading are in the back lounge chatting and Warbringer are scattered between. There’s not a huge amount of mixing, everyone’s being polite and shit, pleasantries are made but other than that it’s all a bit new and weird. Exceptions there are, of course and the exception to this rule is one Mr John Kevill, front man of the mighty Warbringer. The guy is fucking hilarious. He is bounding around the bus between bands, I can tell out right that he is going to be the loud one that wakes everyone up all the time and trashes the bus but for now he is on fire. Totally laid back and chatty and definitely helping to ease the rest of the bus in to the same laid back manner.

The Cardiff Barfly is sold out and we are late. The pressure is on to get everything sorted before doors open. As soon as we have unloaded all of the three bands worth of equipment in to the venue, me and Lyall get straight in to the joyful task of stock check. Fuck My Life in the back of that trailer. In the dark and freezing cold we spent over an hour counting every bit of stock for Evile and Warbringer. Stock checks are depressing at the best of times but that was one of the most miserable times of my life right there. Thank fuck I don’t have to do it again until Wolverhampton. Fucking winter.

I set the stall up in record speed at the back of the room while the bands finish up sound check and start clearing the rider in to the bus. First set up is always long, getting shirts sorted in to workable piles so you know where everything is for quick sales. Just as I’m finishing sticking prices up and scribbling down a sales sheet, the doors are opened and people start spilling in.

I’m selling for all three bands, and all three bands sold well. Sweet start to the tour!

The Fading get up on stage and by the end of their set they have the crowd worked up in to a thrash frenzy. Turns out, this is their first ever tour! WTF? They did such an amazing job, English is their second language but they chatnervously between songs and are brilliantly received.

Warbringer are fucking A all over the shop! They definitely remind of Bonded By Blood but way more evil and I think that’s just the L.A connection too. The laid back style. It’s cool to see them performing it’s very removed from just hanging out with them on the bus.

By this time I have cracked open the Vodka and am in full merch swing. There’s something not right though eh? Mike’s not here. Evile have a new bassist, introducing Joel.

Joel is one cool motherfucker. From the minute I met him, he was laid back smiles, open with a spark in his eyes. Check how gay I am for him! I guess because you can still see the nerves in him, this is a big fucking deal after all. Obviously I was intrigued to see what he would be like on stage, what the chemistry would be like between them all. First couple of songs in there are nerves for sure. An amazing reaction from the audience helps no doubt to disperse this. Matt says a few words and bam, they are in full thrash swing, new songs and old for the next hour to a killer audience and the whole place is sweaty and buzzing and chanting by the end of it.

We pack up, I sort out the merch money and hand it out and then we take as much of the rider as we can carry, including Evile’s Baywatch posters and hit the bus. Pammy goes up in the toilet and drinks are poured, cans cracked open and…this is where it all goes wrong!

Wrong in the best possible sense of the word of course. We were down at that bar making the most of the cheap Welsh drink prices till bus call at 2am. I don’t know how many Jager Bombs we knocked back? I don’t know how many cheesy 80’s Metal tracks we danced to? I do know that the last men standing so to speak were Lyall, Adam and John Laux the guitarists from Warbringer and me. All stretched out in the lounge on the bus drinking even more and chatting about god only knows what.

Good times in the venue before that found Ben the drummer from Evile, Joel the new boy, Nic the drummer from Warbringer and a couple of The Fading out on the dance floor or propping the bar up till the end! A fucking awesome first night and definitely a great way to start a difficult tour. Difficult because Mike is all around us in his absence.

For example, he was one of the party crew for sure. One of the reliefs that I have about Joel, is that he drinks and likes a party. See, Mike was always Bens drinking buddy, and one of the worries that me and Lyall had about this tour, was that Ben wouldn’t have that. It’s not gonna be the same, Joel is not Mike after all, but Evile are in a new chapter in their lives and it helps that although Joel is a new member, he bares striking similarities to Mike. I don’t know if that sounds stupid or not, but it’s all the things that matter, not just the big things, but the little things too.

I guess in a sub conscious way this is another reason why I have writers block. I am finding it so fucking hard to write about this tour. It seems wrong to have fun, to laugh. It seems wrong to talk about Joel in a positive way. It seems wrong to mention that Evile are O.K, wounded and scarred but getting on with it none the less. And it is incredibly hard to write about Joel without drawing comparisons to Mike. Anyway, enough for now, time to finish the story….

I wake up around 6 or 7 in the morning passed out cold in the lounge, my throat is dry so I’m pretty sure I’ve been snoring, I look over and Laux from Warbringer is passed out too, Adam is shuffling in to his bunk and we come to, stagger up and follow suit. Man this is gonna hurt when we wake up.

When we do wake up, we are in Wrexham. A shit night that ends well will be what today brings us.

Evile. Day 8.

It’s snowing! This time last week we were just setting out on tour, driving to Dover and now we are deep in the North of Finland and it’s fucking snowing! Not a bad way to start your Monday all in all. Wake up in a motor home with your clan, outside the venue you rocked last night, get ready and drive off through Finland to do it all again! Hell yeah that’s how we roll fuckers!

Then I fall asleep again, and when I wake, no more snow. Fuck. Snooze you lose. I stay in ‘bed’ drifting in and out of consciousness till I finally pull my lazy arse self up and get in to a fit state to clean up in yet another service station wash room. Get this, Lyall and me only go and spot a Moomin comic hidden amongst all the other crap on the magazine shelves. A genuine Finnish Moomin comic!

Back on the road, we enjoy the last of the Finnish scenery before driving through in to Sweden where suddenly it’s all doom and gloom and dead babies everywhere. Jokes blood, it looks the same as Finland did!

Lyall, Ben and me pull over and get out to take pictures of lakes ‘cause we’re well gay for tourist snaps and then scurry back in quick cause it’s fooking freezing.

Sweden is pretty fucking rad so far, and once again, just as I start to drift off, we reach the venue. We are an hour early to when they let us in so again, Lyall, Ben and me take ourselves off on a wander so we can get some fresh air and stretch our legs. Take in the sights and generally not be cooped up in the motor home. We bumped in to Victor from Entombed and he’s up for coming for a run with me, which is cool cause the lack of exercise is doing my head in.

L.G had stuck his head in the driver’s window when we pulled up and had asked us for a ciggie, still not on top of that whole quit smoking thing huh. He points which way we should go for a wander and once parked that’s just what we do.

Mike just died.

I was in the middle of writing this in the dressing room when….I don’t know how to write this yet.

We are going home.

Mastodon’s ‘Crack the sky’ album is playing through the ipod. We are somewhere in Sweden, making our way from pretty far north back down again.

I keep drifting in and out of napping dozes. Last time I was awake, less than an hour ago, there was no music. I don’t know if that was because we weren’t ready for music. To have an artist propel us in to their story. To be suggested how to feel, what to think about.

None of us know how to feel or what to think about and at the same time we are feeling so much and thinking about everything.

This motor home, this small and claustrophobic space feels so unbearably empty. Stiflingly heavy. The silence will not quieten down so that you can hear yourself think. So you can try and attempt to register what the fuck has happened. But maybe that’s a good thing for now. Maybe that’s your head not letting you compute because it knows that you can’t handle the conclusion.

And so the numbness is bombed repeatedly by raw emotions, and these bombed repeatedly with numbness throughout every waking hour. Waves of awareness at what has happened hit you and you can see it in each persons eyes. Raw and red. Stinging from tears and insomnia and emotion and pain and shock.

This motor home feels like it’s stuck in this one time. Like we have been reliving this day for weeks. The same roads that led us through spectacular scenery a mere week ago now seem monotonous and never ending. This journey home where none of look like we want to go anyway.

Nine hours of this. Lyall drove us through nine hours like this. The first part was the worst. The burning absolute fucking agonising pain of leaving Mike behind. Trying to control the tears but they run free when they please. Everyone is exhausted. Just gone midnight we pull in to a service station to sleep. The absolute emotional exhaustion is a blanket over the whole motor home.

Wednesday. I think it’s Wednesday. The tour seems a million miles away. A million years away. There’s a gentle, subdued and eerie calm about us today. Texts are coming through but I’m loathed to pass on messages of condolence. No one has talked much yet. Mike and thoughts of Mike are being kept within each of us individually.

It’s like we need respite for a bit, ‘cause we know that if we vocalise anything to do with Mike, the rawness will come screaming back. There is an elephant in the motor home and no one is willing to point it out. Nobody needs to.

Two films, two books, god knows how many albums and a worryingly in depth and intense discussion over beer about tea and how to make the perfect cuppa, gets us through the day. We have made it to Denmark. Lyall drove us a further 11 hours away from the pain.

We have reminisced about mike. At some point today that became O.K. With trepidation. By the end there is laughter following silly stories about good times with Mike. We are massively relieved and at the same time pained to get on the ferry and leave Sweden. We stand on the deck and watch it disappear and say goodbye to him.

I get news from Victor that two major Swedish newspapers have covered it. The headline for one is ‘Rock star dies on tour’. He is going to keep it for us so that we can pass it on to his family. Word has come through of all the coverage, that a fund has been set up. I feel like this helps in some small way.

Tonight we will spend in a trucker’s lay by. I would usually say that it’s a perfect location for a horror movie but we are already in one.

We are nearly home now. In Holland. I can’t wait to get out of this fucking motor home and at the same time I can’t face the daunting task of being at home. Apart from knowing that the wound that we have done our best to dress while it heals, will be ripped and torn opened again when we have to face the reality of normal life and everyone in it, where as so far we have been cocooned together away from all that, there’s also the mammoth task that I for one am in no state to handle. I left everything I had in London frozen, safe in the knowledge that I’d be gone for a couple of months. Now what?

The guys feel like they have lost a limb that they can never get back. I feel like I’ve had my insides ripped out and stuffed back in and nothing sits right. How can anything else matter? How can anything else possibly matter right now?

Of course Mike can answer that. He already has. Mike died out on the road. On tour doing something he loved.

Mike and me were chatting earlier in the week about touring and how you cannot describe it to people who haven’t experienced it. We were banging on about how much we love going on tour, how much we love being on tour.

Mike didn’t die on the sofa, in front of the T.V watching some one else’s life playing out while talking about what he wants to do, what he’s going to do. He died while he was experiencing his own adventure. He was out there, chasing his dreams, he knew that they won’t come to you while you waste your life away doing nothing about them.

What happened to Mike could’ve happened to him while he was at home doing nothing. But he wasn’t. He was about to play a rocking fucking gig, on a European tour with his band, his mates, his brothers and he was living his dream.

I guess what I mean is that you don’t know when your time is going to be up, and I for one am going to do my damnedest to make sure that I’m as rocking as Mike when it’s my turn. As cruel as it sounds people, tick tock, tick tock.

We just reached Dover. God I wished it was the 24th of November and there was six of us.

R.IP. Mike. x

Evile. Day 7.

And….we’re back people. Not gonna lie, just had a bit of a gathering round our gaff, the ol’ motor home with some of the crew and Entombed guys. Just how we roll…what!?

Tonight fucking rocked. Yes sir it surely did. Bad side though, I think I have a bit of a crush on some one on this tour and that’s a big ol’ fat no NO! Good luck me with that one eh.

Sold enough, drank enough, head banged enough, chatted enough….and so on and so forth. As I said, tonight was fucking A. Last night in Finland, land of the Moomins too, so I’m glad it was able to leave an impression, lord knows last night was wank.

The drive to the venue had been particularly mundane. No snow, just rain. There had been lovely snowy vistas apparently but it was proper early and I had still been asleep. Fail.

You know the score by now right? Service station stop, shit, shower ( baby wipes ) brush teeth and coffee. Thing is, the washrooms in Finland are badass. The toilet cubicles have little showers in them, they are always clean and that’s because people seem to look after their facilities better than us Brits. Bit more respect for each other. I have been trying to remember not to litter, to put my fag ends in the ashtrays outside and that, cause that is what people do here. It’s dead odd.

Also, I’m doing well on the ol’ food intake so far. It’s really easy when you’re on the road to eat utter shit all the time. Especially if you’re with men. They can, for the most part eat whatever they want, faster metabolisms, us girls cannot keep up with this if we don’t want to get all wobbly fat fucker on ourselves with volcano’s all over our faces.

Worryingly enough, I’m actually eating better on this tour than I do at home. I eat a couple of pieces of fruit a day, always found backstage, which I cannot afford at home. A proper meal at night, at home I get something worse cause I’m working at the pub so it’s shit from Sainsbury’s or some other crap dependent on how I’ve done on tips. Other than that it’s nuts and ham sandwiches. Sometimes crisp sandwiches. Score. I reckon if it wasn’t for my obscene alcohol intake every night, I’d definitely be losing weight on this tour!

The venue tonight is in Oulu, and in our tour book, it has the biggest capacity. 2500. It’s a massive warehouse type thing outside and when we walk in we are greeted by a fucking massive stage in a huge space. Wow. There’s a heavy, black curtain down the far end that cuts off the whole room. Behind that is another stage, the little runt brother of the big macho one. We will be playing on the runt one. Ouch. Apparently if it was a weekend night then the bigger stage would be getting used but Sundays are never busy enough.

It’s an early start tonight so rush rush time. I dump the merch stuff at the stand and go sit on the Evile equipment to finish writing up my blog, send emails and all the rest. The equipment keeps being taken from under me and soon I’m crossed legged on the floor with my laptop on a box in front. Dressing rooms give you cabin fever, and after the motor home I need space, lots of space. Tom, my merch buddy comes by and ruffles my head and says Hi to us all, I’m so chuffed I get to work with this dude every night.

We find our dressing room and once I’ve got my fucking writing out the way I head in there. I wrote on my own in the venue while Amon Amarth sound checked so I could concentrate, rather than get distracted in the dressing room pissing about with the guys.

I’m really running low on time now, I get dressed, make up on, hair brushed and shovel some food down in light speed time. The merch stand gets set up, we got more space tonight and it looks fucking sick. Evile are on the table again but actually it doesn’t matter, it looks great all laid out and I think it would get lost if it was up on the wall with the other two bands stuff.

Enough time for a quick smoke and sit down back stage in the loading area, where there are loads of old sofa’s against the walls running the length of the ramp while Evile finish up sound check and Bam….doors open time.

While I was setting up the last of the merch stand, the dude from Apocalyptica who plays the cello comes over and has a browse over the Evile stuff. He has been guest starring on the last three nights during the Amon Amarth set cause he was on one of they’re albums or something. He only fucking buys both albums! No shit, I was like I’m pretty sure you can just have them, and he was like I’m pretty sure I should pay for them though and I was like your call dude. What a fucking legend!. The guys were proper stoked.

So, I have already sold by the time the first of the customers comes up. Good times. Olle, the drummer from Entombed, Victor the bassist and some one else who I’m mot sure of hang out for a while with us, getting a t-shirt for their mate and we cajole Victor in to doing a beer run for us. Poor Tom is parched over here. We laugh cause it looks like it went straight over his head. Bless him he only comes back with two beers a bit later on.

Allow me to introduce you to some one though. Miss Beer Nazi. Seems you can’t have alcohol near the front door or some fucking shit, Finnish policy. Ooh I think I smell a jobs worth. So Victor has to turn around and go back. Me and Tom are well bummed out. Fuck that bitch though man. ( The venue crew informs me later when I’m banging on about it that she’s actually a very nice girl. I’m sure she is but she was a fucking cock to us and needs to drop the ‘tude. You ain’t Demi Moore in G.I Jane love. I could kick you in to next week easily.)

Like I said though. Fuck that. I got Lyall to go back stage, empty some water bottles and fill them up with my Raspberry Vodka and lemonade and bring them over to us. Safe blood, Tom and me got wasted right in front of Miss Beer Nazi all night long, Ha!

We are selling more tonight. Lots of hooded sweats and beanie hats for Tom and L.P’s and all sorts for me. Me and Tom, of course are having the (your mum)* time our lives. Well not the time of our lives but we’re having quite a good fucking laugh.

The Evile boys get proper bummed out during their show, apparently the immediate audience were totally non moving, non reactionary which is weird cause for the rest of the night they are asked for a whole bunch of autographs and pictures. Go figure.

The gig is over and the packing up is under way. Everyone is chilled and cool, ‘cept Mike who is feeling ropey. I help pack up the merch stand with Tom, who has a much greater amount to do than me with my two boxes. Then I piss about. Yeah, just piss about really. Get a ride on the trolley off one of the venue crew and shenanigans of that sort.

I’m pretty fucking drunk I reckon. I’m inviting whoever I walk past back to the motor home for drinks and then completely forget and after mincing around outside having a ciggie with some of the crew, am quite shocked to open up the motor home door to find people in it!

We got Victor from Entombed, Steve the stage manager, the soundman Paul and Amon Amarth’ drum tech! Full house!

Drinks all round, we’re having a fucking blast. Stories are being spewed out left, right and centre. Just as we are about to continue with more drinks…… bus call. Can you Adam and fucking Eve it?! Jeez time flies when your having fun eh. The guys all hop off and over on to they’re bus and before you know it they are gone and it’s just us left. Ho hum.

*Ben wrote that. Let me explain. Not much to explain really but he has reminded me of something I have forgotten to add so far. Your mum jokes. All over the fucking shop on this tour. We are all over them like a rash. See what he did? I turn my back for 5 minutes and he’s written it on me blog the cheeky begger.

Evile. Day 6.

When I wake up, the motor home is pulling in to a service station and I rake myself together and stumble out bleary eyed with the rest of the band. We slope off to the washrooms to clean up, brush teeth, baby wipe wash and the like. Top up on petrol, bread and ham and back on the road.

Finland is just so fucking beautiful toady. The sun is out even though is freezing and the scenery makes you sure a grizzly bear will scamper across the road at some point. Don’t think that will happen since it’s not bear Country but you still expect it. There are warning signs for Moose but we never spotted any. L.J from Entombed assures me we will definitely see reindeer at some point, and probably hit one. Errmm…nice.

The other bands are already at the venue by the time we pull up. It’s a massive hall that looks like a run down disused school in the middle of nowhere. We are feeling more and more like we are in Black Metal land.

The venue is fucking sweet, massive with a phat stage and loads of seating and tables dotted about the place. Members of bands and crew are scattered about doing their things and chilling out, killing time. It is split in to two parts with crowd barriers. One has the bar within its enclave and is for the adults, the other has the stage in it and is for anyone without a drink. All ages gig. Interesting set up.

I can’t help noting the set ups of the venues we visit cause I have worked in live music venues for years and am always intrigued to see how other places rock it. Bit of a fucking geeky thing to do but you never know when you might find a cracking idea you can take back home and claim as your own eh!

Victor, bassist from Entombed is walking in from his their bus when we arrive so hellos all round and he shows us in. Hello’s and hugs to the rest of the people we have gotten to know a bit so far and it’s straight down to the business of unloading all the gear.

Me and Tom, my merch buddy are at the other end of the hall to the stage. Looks like I’ll be getting table space only again tonight, no worries, it looked pretty sweet last night so I know I can do it.

Steve the stage manager is stage left fiddling with technical stuff and shows me wa blow with that. Amon Amarth have stage left and Entombed and Evile have stage right. He tells me where our dressing room is, also sharing with Entombed, poor lads!

First task, as always is getting online on the wi-fi and answering emails, sending reports and figures and writing to the familia to let them know I haven’t been gang raped yet, I’m in one piece and that all is well. I think we are all really aware that we are sharing with the mighty Entombed and so no one looks massively relaxed at first.

Our dressing room is up some precarious steel stairs stage left, fuck I bet I end up stacking it on these bad boys. The room has windows over looking the stage with curtains across. Later on I will be peeking through them watching a bit of Entombed without realising that the singer from Amon Amarth is next to me doing the same. We are still not chatting freely with the AA massive. They are the lions and we are the cubs type thing.

Entombed are fucking blinding blokes. Tonight I get a chance to chat with them a bit more and they are a proper laid back and easy going bunch.

Dinner is burrito’s or tortilla or cheeseburgers and chips. My burrito is the best one I’ve ever had, not a fan of Mexican food , find it too rich so probably this was a really shit one. Wash them down with a beer and sweet as a nut it’s wash time.

Seriously feeling like a right scum fuck toady. The shower has no door so I take over the whole locker room making sure everyone knows I’m in and that it’s out of bounds till I’m done. Matt is the nearest to it, pissing about on his guitar so I double check with him that he’ll make sure no one goes in. Victor lends me his hair band, the one bloody thing I forgot and I’m good to go.

That shower was like heaven. I did not ever want to leave it. Running short on time though so bish bash bosh it and crack on with making myself up so I don’t look and feel like I been living in a motor home for the past week.

Merch stand is set up pretty much the same as the night before, sound checks out the way and it’s doors open time. Bigger capacity tonight and after doing so well last night I’m feeling kinda cocky.

Fucking shouldn’t have. Check this out. I sold nothing for the first hour. I literally wanted to kill myself. I’m selling Entombed and Amon Amarth but no Evile. Finally after an eternity of pain, I start selling. By the end of the night I have nearly reached the labels target, thank fuck but I’m hoping and praying that this will be the worst sales night or we are screwed and I’m going to have to go on the game.

There are a whole lot of absolutely wasted Finns coming in and Tom my merch buddy is looking pretty strained too so there’s nowt else to do but pull out the vodka and beer. By the time Entombed come on stage we are both merry and taking the piss out of the idiot drunks who keep falling about the stand and trying to barter prices down.

I skive off the stand a whole bunch cause there is nothing to do, no one at it for huge periods of time, and go for smokes out the dressing room window, drink, watch the bands and check my emails, but generally skive, it’s just too depressing.

Evile leave the stage after they’re set to the crowd chanting ‘more more more’. Fuckin A. I get a lot of creepy drunk men asking me if I want to come have a drink with them, jeez, it’s like being behind the bar for fucks sake. I wouldn’t mind but they’re not fucking buying anything, just wasting my time. Buggers.

The staff there are fucking genius, and after all is packed up I hang around and smoke with them, people are so friendly when your out on the road and not from around their parts. Tonight we were very definitely in Black Metal land. As the kids walked past I wondered which ones have burnt down churches and have serial killer tendencies. Quite a fun game as it goes. I’m pretty sure I nailed it on a few of them.

Me and Tom have for sure bonded now. He is a fucking winner and I’m well chuffed I get to hang with him every night. My new drinking partner.

I got to chat with Alex form Entombed tonight for the first time too. The fucking coolest guy. We chatted about family and tattoo’s and travelling, he has this kind of quiet Shaolin monk vibe going on. All wise and knowing but with smiley eyes. He seems kinda unapproachable on meeting, but he is proper fucking laid back and helpful and totally has time for us Evile minions.

L.J is also a number one legend. He is just the fucking sweetest guy. Well chatty and friendly. He’s quitting smoking so isn’t buying them and now and again will pop up on the scrounge for one, all apologetic like. Funny as fuck. I got to meet the drummer too, who’s name I can’t spell, Ollu or Olli? Well funny guy. And Victor, although not reliable for a beer run, is the sweetest guy. Tom and me pull him up on his hair. It’s fucking long man! We are standing at the merch table deep in conversation about it for far too long before catching ourselves, laughing at how gay we are and shrugging it off with shuffling feet and drinks to mouths.

Basically a really cool group of mother fuckers, which is sweet cause all this can be a bit daunting.

It’s pissing it down with rain, I have no idea how all those people got there, and how the hell they all got home but its lights out and off to the motor home. Ol is already in bunk, Matt and Mike are making sarnies and Ben is stomping around cursing, trying to get his broke arse phone to work. Lyall is chatting away and all is as it should be as we get ourselves tucked in, gas heater on, ready for another much needed sleep, all be it cold before we do it all again tomorrow.

Evile. Day 5. Part 2.

A whole lot of fucking waiting around now folks. We all make the most of the free wi-fi but then that’s done and boring, there’s only so long you can stay on facefuck banging on about how you’re in Helsinki. I send my merch info and post my blogs from the last couple of days and generally just sit behind my laptop watching all the goings on. Oh and I’m drinking. Good times. Amon Amarth eating, Amon Amarth chatting, Amon Amarth watching DVD’s on their laptops. Entombed eating, Entombed chatting. Entombed watching DVD’s on their laptops.

Outside I had met a few more people, one of whom is Steve, the stage manager and guitar tech. Small world time, I know him from years back when I was a bouncer at The Devonshire Arms, and more recently the Big Red. Diamond fella is Steve. Had a catch up, turns out like so many of our British men, he found himself a gorgeous Swedish girlfriend and moved over there.

So Amon Amarth and Entombed will know that I was a bouncer, this helps in my bid to get taken seriously as one of the crew and not a groupie, since I am the only girl on this get up.

My merch buddy for the tour will be Tom, from Sweden. Previously done merch for Machine Head and that level of players so I’m excited to see what I can learn of this dude and also nervous to make a good impression. I go and introduce myself to him and explain that he is the Jedi to my Padawan self. I think he thinks I’m a fucking lunatic. We are gonna get on just fine you’ll see.

Again, I cannot set up Evile merch until Tome has finished setting up Amon Amarth’s and Entombed. So it’s more fucking hanging around which means, more drinking. We finally get to hit up the buffet, by which time we are fucking starving. Rice, chicken, salad and bread . I pile my plate up high and go up the balcony with a beer to watch Entombed sound check while I eat my dinner. Not a fucking bad way to live eh!? The chicken is the most amazing thing I have eaten in a long time and Entombed are sick.

I ask Steve if he can point me in the right direction for a Dentist when we get to Sweden and he calls the Amon Amarth singer over, who has apparently just been himself. This is getting twilight zone stylee. Does a visit to the Dentist with Amon Amarth await me? What la fuck?

I fuck off outside for a tab and to collect myself and then set up the merch stand. Evile have to sell at the same price as the other two bands, which is a bit nerve racking. There is no wall space left for me to hang t-shirts so I present everything as best I can on one of the long tables. Evile sound check and by the time they have finished, doors are open and there are loads of people buying merch and waiting to get in to the gig area.

In the short space of time before Evile play, I pass both the labels daily sales target and mine!. Holy fuck, what a fucking relief. I’m also helping Tom with sales of the other 2 bands, since I’m not going to get all arsey when a customer asks for that and not Evile stuff. That makes no sense to me. Every merch stand I’ve shared before, this is how I’ve rolled. You help each other out for an efficient night with maximum sales for all.

Tom seems perplexed by this, so maybe that’s not the way on a tour of this scale but I’m grass roots so whatever, that’s how it is rolling and by the end of the night he an I have shared booze and the bonding is done. We are brothers in merch arms. We fucking ruled that night and I know that for Evile we surpassed our sales target 3 fold. SWEET! Still, don’t count your chickens too soon or something, I’m not going to assume that every night will be this good.

All the bands rocked the fuck out of that Finnish venue and the mood was ace by the end of the night. Everyone was drunk and happy. Mike more so than the rest. Mike managed to cane his entire bottle of vodka, what a fucking legend.

At some point during the night, Tom and me are sell sell sell all over the shizzle when down the stairs in front of us saunters Mike, who starts jigging away like he’s Christopher bloody Walken in the Fat Boy Slim video, a cheeky little glint in his eye. Right up to us he comes, and smiles at us both, pointy finger dancing about on the spot “ I’m dunk” Yeah you are!. No shit Sherlock! Ha! Fucking legend. He amuses us for a bit then swaggers off elsewhere to bring joy and festivities in to the heart of others. Funny drunk Mike.

A couple of hours later, one by one I get reports of the rest of the band that , yes indeed, Mike is drunk. So drunk that he has passed out in the dressing room after puking down himself and is rolling around on the floor. Then an ironing board fell on top off him and he just lay there laughing his arse off along with the other guys who were watching the whole sorry affair. Bless. What a bunch of fucking losers, you gotta love it.

We pack up and I hang back to help Tom clear up. There are random drunk as fuck Finnish people dotted around the venue. Finnish people like a drink man, very funny bunch. I’m quite drunk myself by now and we debate going to a rock bar round the corner.

It is fucking freezing, so we pour in to the motor home parked outside behind the other bands night liner and put the gas heater on while we figure out what we are doing. Ben is drunk *and has already gone off to the bar with a bunch of people. Ol has gone to bunk and Mike is passed out cold in the front seat. Apparently he had opened the door earlier to be sick but fell out instead. Win.

We get a knock on the door and it’s Steve. In the end we didn’t go out. We sat there prompting Steve for tales from the road, the man has worked with everyone. We heard about Anthrax and Slayer and all sorts. Suddenly I’m feeling drowsy, either a contented tiredness or too many painkillers on copious amounts of booze. No matter, I’m done for. A quick ciggie outside and time to make up the bed.

We all nestle in with our gas heater on and sleep. It is 4.30 in the fucking morning people. Gods honest truth I thought it was about 1.30. That’s how fucking amazing tonight has been.

* Ben: “ I wasn’t fuckin’ drunk!”