Thursday, 24 June 2010
Evile Infecting Nations 2010 tour.Luynes.
Yoz. That’s Laux’s views on Luynes apparently. I got a bit more to say. First off, yesterday was another fucking travel day. We watched a whole run of movies in the back lounge of the bus, where the wide screen tele’, hard drive and wrap round sofa live. Sounds rad but when you try and cram in as many people we do, it tends to get quite cramped and uncomfortable. Plus you have the squabbling over what to watch. The Israeli’s are always in there en-masse, so you kind of have to sit it out and wait till they all start skulking off to bed to get more space and more say over what goes on. The only thing I can recall watching that was worth noting was ‘Role Models’. Had us in stitches pretty much the whole way through, I’ve seen it before and still laughed my arse off. Highlights include the battle talk, the Kiss speech and the little black kid.
After the movie, I write some till I get bored and push off to sleep in the lounge. I can’t though, ‘cause Lyall and Adam are twatted and being loud enough to keep me from falling in to a deep sleep. At 7.30am I finally crack and tell them to fuck off and shut up. Lyall offered me his bunk but I’m all mad at him so cut my nose off to spite my face. 5 minutes later, Adam lets me take his bunk and I eventually get some sleep.
We get to the venue, in the back of beyond and follow through the usual routine of load in and make ham and cheese sarnies with the rider provided. I find myself wet wipe washing and fake tan spraying in a storage cupboard with a broom wedged against the door as a make shift lock today. No showers here. No toilet seats either. There’s a lot of this no seat malarkey in European venues. The pub I work in has to replace seats a lot ‘cause idiot customers abuse them so much and so it seems Europe has stuck two fingers up at the drunks who misuse their property and don’t bother replacing them at all!? Ha! Makes no difference to me. I live on a bus with 15 men. My standards are low as far as user-friendly amenities go.
As a desperate last ditch attempt to make a half decent merch stand, I use masking tape to attach the t-shirts to the hand railings running along the back of the table and crack on with the Warbringer stock check that their people back home have requested. Kevill does the stuff in the trailer and I do the stuff on the stall. They definitely need more stock. They don’t even have any C.D’s at this point in the tour, and after the Evile tour ends, they stay out a further month to do as much of Europe as possible before heading back over the pond.
I’m so fucking horribly exhausted today from my total lack of sleep. This lounge sleeping is a nightmare only ‘cause there’s always someone up till the next day watching movies or being drunk. I’m so knackered I even sent myself flying backwards when I hit my head on the staircase on the bus. I sat on the stairs dazed for a bit, shook it off and tried not to cry like a bitch through fatigue and frustration. Tonight, I am taking whoever is up lasts bunk for the night. I need a bunk night. And I fucking hate this bus’s bunks!
Back in the venue, everyone is piss bored. Halfway through the tour and even the food is getting hard to eat because it is just so fucking boring. Ham and cheese sandwiches run through my dreams alongside t-shirt designs that morph in to band members and scream and shred like wild eyed lunatics, all clinging on to the back bumper of a rickety rickshaw come night liner, bumping along dirt tracks in the middle of no where. One more sleep till Paris. One more sleep till we are out of Hicksville and back in a City.
Kids have begun turning up outside, which always bodes well, as I stomp up and down outside of the venue trying to locate a missing parcel that my friend was trying to bring to me in Paris. This is yet another strike against today, no parcel, which has a pair of much needed clean and new leggings in it. I packed for two weeks you know! And my mate has gone all the way up to the pub for no reason now, bollocks. Giving up on getting any joy out of it I hit the stand just as doors open and resign myself to having to do laundry in Paris.
As The Fading goes on stage, a huge plume of dry smoke is released around them and they disappear for the first part of their set. Fucking cowboy whoever did that, although it was quite funny. Laux is shuffling around muttering something about having not practiced for two days and how he is letting it slip. We all are, it’s tour lull time. Bound to happen, at about the half way point you just cannot be arsed. Every day is the same. The lifestyle that is amazing when you compare it to office work and the like, suddenly becomes as monotonous and mundane. You do the same thing every day, eat the same, with the same people, hear the same songs, and do the same job. Then you mentally shake yourself and berate yourself for being so damn ungrateful! I learnt a lot from Laux being all pissed at himself for not practicing for 2 whole days, the guy is seriously focused and I think that is a route I will take when I get back home. Practice does make perfect.
Kevill as always brings me out of my mood when he comes and hangs at my stand as the rest of Warbringer set up their gear. We talk of ‘Rape tractors’ fuelled on hash, of the logistics of them possibly staying with me in March when they come through London and we play 1 2 3 shit your pants with a German accent attached. No idea, but god that man makes me laugh.
So this is a small venue, and lets not make any bones about it, it’s not exactly full. The people that are here are mostly at the back, and even with Warbringer on stage, they are stiff. Until of course they get hypnotised in to a mosh pit frenzy they are! Ha, yes Warbringer, show ‘em! The fuckers, we aren’t in England people, no place for stiff upper lips here. Kevill dedicates ‘Pray for death’ to the kid that sage dived when there were like 3 people willing to catch him with the introduction of “This songs about starvation…sorry about that”! Kevill’s usual infectious, over excited demeanour has once again won over a difficult audience.
Between sets, the vibe is terrible. These fools here don’t put any music on between sets, I’ve never heard anything like it at a Thrash gig, quiet. WTF? No one is buying and I suspect this could be the worst sales night yet. It is certainly going to be in the top 5.
Warbringer come and hang at the stand, a wise tactic that helps encourage sales and we all piss about, discuss the night etc while they sign stuff. Kevill calls me a ‘silly goose’? Cannot for the life of me remember why but it cracked me up, and Laux informs me that when he was staring at me like a madman, that was the queue to let me know the next solo was dedicated to me, ‘cause I asked for one out of boredom before they went on. It was an epic solo, I was dead chuffed.
Evile are up next and the crowd is still being difficult, yawn. Matt asks who has the new album and 4 people put their hands up, he retorts with “Selling well then!” You can’t help but laugh, laugh or cry right, laugh or cry. It’s almost a first time reaction that Evile are getting. What I mean is when a crowd doesn’t know you, they just stand and stare and listen. That’s good, they are taking you in, and they are taking it seriously and paying attention. The Fading gets this. The headline act should not be getting this. I mean, there’s a bit of reaction, some head banging, but that’s pretty much it. I think we were all glad when the night ended. It’s tough when nights go like this because you still have to perform to the best of your abilities, and it’s hard to since so much of a good gig is based on crowd participation.
I pack up and sit on a step while the guys finish putting their gear away and find myself getting chatted up by a cute French man that I have no interest in. He has beautiful eyes and a lovely accent but I just want to get on the bus and hang with my mates. It’s amusing to be on the other side, and see the perspective of the band and their crew who leave you wanting more.
I love that I’m not the one being left behind, it’s one of the reasons I got in to touring in the first place, I fucking hate it when the party ends. This way, I just get on the bus and am part of the party, on to the next stop. Which in this case is Paris! Thank fucking god. I get to see one of my favourite people ever, Talita from Earache records, and hopefully do some washing, and hopefully the gig will be banging. If it’s not? We got 10 dates left, some of them have got to be great right.
For now, it’s on to the bus to sit myself in the kitchen and write while Laux plays music through the speakers from his ipod and we knock back vodka and just chill. Steve, our second driver comes and joins us and puts on some blinding tunes we would never have thought to and when my eyes get too tired to focus on the screen any more I kick back in the lounge upstairs. Adam is watching Leon and we all agree that Natalie Portman was one sexy damn 11 year old before I hit the land of nod. It must be a bummer to be at your sexiest when you were 11. I wonder if I should be on the sex offender register for that comment? Whatevs’, tomorrow Paris, and rumour has it a certain Editor from a certain metal magazine will be accompanying miss Talita, fuckin A.