Thursday, 24 June 2010

Evile Infecting Nations 2010 tour.Paris.

YEAAAA Paris! I got out of my bunk so fast that I gained many, many new bruises and carpet burns. As soon as I saw Talita from Earache records, Evile’s label, and Louise Brown, Editor of Terrorizer magazine standing there in the car park, I couldn’t feel a god damn thing accept over fucking joyed! My girls! God I’ve missed them, 15 men for company gets kind of tiring after a while. I have watched all the Back to the future films, X-Men, Indiana Jones and so on. I need some drunken girl time!

After many screams and hugs we settle down in a smoking pagoda just out side of the venue, surrounded by snow and regale each other with recent triumphs. The launch night of Terrorizer’s club night, Grindhouse, at the Hobgoblin pub in Camden was an outstanding success, of course! I missed a good one there, and I fill them in on what every one has been up to on the road. They get to hear stories that will go no further forever more! Talita gives me the package my mum sent the pub where I work to me, contact lenses and my punk sleeveless jacket that’s patches were falling off and I didn’t have time to sew up. She fixed it bless her!

Talita whisks the Evile camp off to do press in the nice part of Paris and Louise joins Laux, Elad and Paul from The Fading and myself for a jaunt to the local laundrette. Why the fuck is this the second time of two times that I have been to a laundrette to do not just my own but many other band members washing? Oh yes, I’m a girl. Pff.

One of the guys from the club very nicely shows us the way there, because apparently it’s really rough round here, and then says he need not to have worried when he see’s us all standing there. I wouldn’t fuck with us.

No sooner do we step out side of the venue then a massive snow blizzard kicks off. No word of a lie, I felt like I was in 'The day after tomorrow'! Instead of Jake Gynalhalelflahrehf whatever his name is we had Paul wearing a t-shirt with no coat though, silly billy. Not a happy Russian. Once at the laundrette, which smelt amazing, this dude got the little Asian guy to show us what to do and within 5 minutes, 4 of his machines were pulling us in to a hypnotised state of being 5 again and we all just watched the washing machine windows, transfixed.

Laux stripped in true Levi jeans advert and so found himself freezing in basketball shorts, wandering around the next few streets with Louise and me to find food. We were starving and clearly missing the usual spread of ham and cheese sandwiches at the venue. Every diner was shut for food orders since we had missed lunch, which was bizarre, but we eventually found a little Chinese buffet place that we managed to take some plastic containers of food away with us. I had some sort of potato salad and coleslaw, it was heaven. I’m lying, it was all right, but I totally got food envy for Louise and Laux who had opted for hot food. Hate food envy, always get it, and never learn.

We fucked about in that Laundrette for a couple of hours, trying to stay warm by sitting in the tumble machines after taking our dried clothes out, shoving our heads in the still hot and just dried clothes, anything, we were freezing. It’s not a straight off the bat idea of a good time in Paris, doing loads of laundry, but I think we managed to have a relatively nice Parisian afternoon.

Back at the venue we raided the food that was left, attempted to get connected to the net and I set up the merch stand. I have a pop at the venue for their no gaffa tape on the walls policy and do my best to set up band merch in the seating alcove opposite the bar. By the time I was finished I had missed dinner, and no one had saved me any, the bastards. Chop had put some to the side for Steve and said he didn’t want it so I took that and straightened my face. I even argued with Shaked after he came up to the stand when I was clearly stressed and rushing, and started going on about who the owner of a pair of gloves was? I snapped at him, he told me to fuck off and stormed off.

I rush back stage to the Evile dressing room and come across the best dressing room snapshot ever when I open the door….Evile are having a full on Birthday party with hats, streamers, tooty whistle things and children’s presents like plastic bows and arrows. There’s booze and a massive cake to top it all off. It’s Joel’s birthday! Joel is certainly cramming in a lot this tour, first tour with Evile, first child born, and a birthday! They all looked like such a bunch of kids, all thanks to the lovely Talita! Awwww! I wish I had time to enjoy but doors are upon us and I’m not ready.

The doors opened and Lyall had to cover me while I went back stage and got changed. I found Shaked and apologised and we hugged and it was all forgotten, as I ran off to use Warbringers dressing room they all shout that they love me, family right there. I had to get changed in Warbringer’s room ‘cause Evile were doing an interview in theirs and rushed back to the stand quick smart. With magnificently big bed hair! My hair looked rad that night. I love it when that happens.

This French journo, Jessica came and hung out on the stand with me and the biggest win of all was having Louise hang with me. She even wrote notes in my book when I went for a ciggie break and she looked after the stand!

I get this often. When the guys look after the merch stand for me I come back to find rude entries or scribbling about how great they are or how much I love them. Louise on the other hand drew a heart and kept me up to date with what I missed, bless her. Girls are better. Here’s what I missed. Warbringer made everyone sing Happy Birthday to Joel, who came out and laughed his arse off! I didn’t really miss this though because I could hear it all the way out in the smoking area! Louise did make a fantastic merch girl for sure.

Talita is in such a cheeky mood, what with being in Paris, which she loves, and seeing all her mates, who I’m sure she missed as much as we missed her. She’s off doing filming and taking photos but still manages to get Louise, herself and me a black Russian from the bar that is so strong and potent and delicious that I thin it is now my new favourite drink. Yum.

It’s unfortunately quite quiet tonight. The problem being that although we are finally out of Hicksville and back in a big City, there are two other metal gigs going on within 20 minutes of us. One of them being Dillinger escape plan. Bum. Still, The Fading get the crowd that is there warmed up, Warbringer get a stage invasion.

Rumour has it there is a 3am bus call tonight, and at least two parties that we can go to after the show, one being Dillinger escape plans after party, so everyone is full of energy and ready to misbehave.

Kevill’s arm is chopping through the air, and I pay particular attention to his moves tonight after having a conversation with him the other night about what moves he likes to do on stage, where he got them from and what he doesn’t like to do or see on other singers. Apparently although once totally put off by singers doing the air guitar along with their band’s solo’s, he has now fully embraced it after seeing some one do it who looked rad. I guess if you’re up on stage listening to music you love, you want to rock out too right? Kevill fucking kills it on the stage always, very infectious.

Evile come on to rapturous applause and Adam comes to hang out at the stand with me, only to be left all on his lonesome while I skive off for a smoke. It’s so icy out, that I very nearly go arse over tit, much to the delight of Nic, who catches my clumsy slip save. I’m pretty sure everyone saw unfortunately and I go hide in the pagoda to smoke away my shame.

I come back to the stand to find Louise with her laptop still trying to get Internet connection, and I go to get us another couple of black Russians from the bar. Evile are killing it on stage and find themselves surrounded by stage divers while watching crowd surfers in front of them. And the lighting is amazing for once!

So instead of getting another round of black Russians, Louise tells me to get this typical French drink called a ‘Pastis’. Lyall comes over to ask if I have seen the Israelis, seems they went to use the shower at the hotel room which the venue provided us with about 20 minutes away and have not returned. I am standing there looking at what can only be described as the juice of some young man. Louise Brown is the Devil for making me drink this. She has written down here that it is indeed a French tradition, when in Rome, she says as she mock voms’. I have then written back to her that it is the colour of sperm. (Loud music, writing is easier) She has retorted with ‘Thanks Luce! Not gonna help it go down that observation eh?! The only thing ranker than that drink is my hand holding it that is currently and has for the most part been sporting what I like to call the festival manicure. Dirty, filthy finger nails. Eww. I learnt a few days after that how to clean them with a biro pen, don’t worry.

The Israelis are back! Turns out there was football on the tele so they ended up staying and watching it for a bit, Lyall goes nuts at them and they skulk off like teenagers who have just got a bollocking of their mum. Louise and me laughed while trying to knock back the vicious Pastis drinks without looking at them. or tasting them.

After the show, Evile have another interview. It lasts forever and is quite possibly one of the most mind numbingly dull situations I have ever felt myself in. It is up there with waiting at A&E to get my foot X-rayed last year when I broke it. Someone fell asleep. 10 years later, it ends and we crack up open the Champagne that the lovely Jessica has bought the band and we talk about hitting the town. We ended up on back on the sodding bus didn’t we. The interview took so long that by the time we were ready to go anywhere it was 1.30am and there was no time to be getting taxis and gallivanting around gay Paris. Talita and Louise eventually had to call it a night and I saw them off at the road as the snow kept falling. The rest of us hung out long enough to get completely wasted and chain smoke profusely under a tiki hut by the bus. Joel even managed to write his name and Evile in the snow with his piss. I think he did a pentagram too, which Ol said Mike would have loved. Back on the bus it’s all rowdy and loud. People are wrestling each other and all sorts. I get attacked by Ilia who takes great delight in covering me in colouring pens, drawing smiley faces and writing The Fading on me, and although there were photos put up on facebook of this, we have since taken them down because they look a lot more frisky than what was really going on, innocent childish fun.

I can’t remember anything past that I’m afraid. Nobody chucked, I think everyone kept drinking till the booze ran out and then went to their bunks? Tomorrows gonna be hangover City though, that’s for sure. Good job Paris.

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