Saturday, 3 October 2009

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!”

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