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PETE'S TOUR JOURNAL PART FOUR - Wednesday 16 March, Osnabrueck Germany If it's Wednesday, it must be Germany. Ah yes - settling into the nomadic lifestyle of being on the road was starting to tell. I woke up a couple of times while the bus was on the move but eventually stuck my head out of my bunk around midday. Mainly due to the commotion outside, but also because of the feeling that I was being cooked on a low heat for a long time - and was probably a little overdone if my socks were anything to go by. I ventured out in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and to my surprise it was lovely and sunny. All we needed to have a perfect day was a little scenery. This was however not on the cards as we were in an industrial part of the town, probably by my guess somewhere near the outskirts and I'll stick my finger out here, I reckon it's marked down on some planning map for redevelopment in the near future. We were parked to the side of a long low building, whose front had been done up quite well, but the rest had that cool 60s look of concrete slab sides and asbestos roofing. All painted a nice sandy yellow, in keeping in fact with the courtyard to the side where we were parked which was made up of very sandy soil. So what -the sun was shining and there was coffee and food etc. The main club was being cleaned up as a PA was being brought in and then all the gear for both bands would be brought out of the trailer the bus was pulling. The back stage dressing room area was an Egyptian affair with a couple of tombs and large cat-type animals guarding a fountain I think it was. Then the one back room which was a bedsit a kitchen/shower /loo type room - nice. I sat outside with a couple of rolls and coffee, and made a few phone calls. I'd had a few texts from Los Marillos to say, "Good luck", "How's it all going" and "Wish we were with you" kind of things. Hmm, "not today you wouldn't", I was thinking, but it is nice to get support and a bit of chat from your mates while away. Everyone was milling around getting something to eat. Tommy and the crew were starting to sort out the gear from the trailer so I went over to talk about the merch boxes and who should move them and who shouldn't move them. You learn from experience that certain people will pitch in and help and others just do their gig and that's fine, and most of the time it works best if everyone knows what they should and shouldn't do. That way things don't get left or lost or forgotten about. We established that two of the local crew should set time aside to help Kate unload and then load back up at the end of the evening. There is always a grey area about when the end of the evening is however. The local crew being paid by the local promoter will try and finish ASAP. The audience will still be in the building because the bands are still hanging around, so merchandise can still be sold. So Kate can't pack up until there is no-one left who wants to buy anything, while the tour crew want to get everything packed away so they can get washed, showered, whatever, and get ready for the journey ahead. Tricky one. It eventually got sorted. The fact is merch is very important to most bands touring around these kinds of circuits as it is often what makes the difference between being able to tour or not. This means the merchandise stand stays until the bitter end and if the local crew have to wait then so be it. I eventually plucked up the courage to brave the shower. Not as grim as it looked - the water was hot and if you jammed the shower head in a certain way on its stand and lent to the left quite a lot, it was actually OK. I had in advance got myself a reasonably sized towel so I was sorted. I put clean clothes on and felt ready for the day, well the rest of the day, as when I looked at my phone, it was some time after two. John M and Kate were discussing the shower so I shared my happy experience with them and went off hoping I hadn't taken all the hot water. John Beck and Bob I think were still asleep after last nights little, er, problems. They had found it difficult to sleep with all the snoring going on. At this point I can't name names but rest assured I myself have never snored in my life. Well maybe once when I was young and just had to finish that last bottle of tequila before bed (I still can't stand the smell of the stuff). A penance for snoring it seems, was devised by them. Thus when the various perpetrators woke up, they found pieces of fruit placed strategically in their bunks. One poor soul wondered why three oranges were keeping him company as he slowly drifted into consciousness - indeed what bizarre dream was this to be dragged into? I decided to kill some time by walking somewhere like town or some shops. I tried but gave up after about 20 minutes and one garage, so I went in and bought a Cornetto and walked back to the venue. I sat in the sun again, then went inside to the now quite dark dressing room area. "I'll clean my teeth" I thought - that'll kill a bit of time, and so foolishly delving around in my washbag I came across not my toothbrush but my razor. My 3 blade brand new really sharp razor which promptly made three long straight cuts along the index finger of my right hand. I knew they were quite deep as I didn't really feel what happened at first. I fetched the first aid kit and cut myself some plaster to cover my finger up. A little later the blood was still oozing through, and I was about to try again when Rio came over to see what I had done. "I have just the thing for that," he told me, and went and got his bag. He proceeded to coat my finger with some plastic skin he had picked up in Japan. It would prevent any bacteria getting in and had antiseptic in it as well to help healing. I hate anything wrong with my hands, even a broken nail, but this was quite scary on tour and so what Rio did was fantastic. I hate to admit it but I had got myself quite worked up about it thinking about infection and the gigs, and how I would play. Now it was covered liberally in plastic skin and a plaster so I couldn't see it. It felt cosy and so did I. Spock's
soundchecked while we had dinner at the venue. Then for some reason the
promoter opened the doors, because there was a crowd outside and he didn't
want any trouble from the police. I found Tommy and told him that the
doors were open. The promoter didn't want to know he said that if we wanted
to soundcheck, that was fine - the audience would enjoy it. THANKS MATE
WE OWE YOU ONE. The audience as usual came to the front of the stage -
our gear, as usual, was on the floor prior to being moved on stage and
plugged in. The lights were down and some music was playing - you can
imagine the chaos. John Beck didn't want to soundcheck, but we did do
a linecheck and the first verse of "Leave the Light On" with
Rob on cans so they couldn't hear us playing. Then we had to walk back
through the crowd who didn't really want to let us get to our hard-earned
spot in the dressing rooms. We then had 3/4 of an hour till we were on.
The promoter had given us some awful local brew, which it seemed we couldn't
change for Beck's or anything else, even though they were selling it in
the club, and we had no towels which we needed before the show. It gets
hot on stage, and water and towels are just part of the deal like electricity
and lights. We were told it would take a few minutes to get towels. A
few minutes later, still no towels. With ten minutes to go before we were
on stage, we were told it would be 15 minutes before we had any towels.
I went to see the promoter who didn't want to speak to me. He was too
busy taking people's money on the door. I asked again and he waved me
away with a hand, so I told him that he didn't understand and that if
he wanted Kino to play, we had to have towels and some proper beer in
the dressing room. He said we were being difficult and that no-one else
complained. It then got quite silly, when he suggested maybe we shouldn't
play! I said "Fine, shall I tell the audience or you?". He looked
at me and I looked back at him for what seemed like an age. "Look,"
I said, "as you opened the doors on our soundcheck, the least you
could do is meet us halfway. We need the towels before we go on stage".
"OK" he huffed, "you get the towels and I'll change your
beer". "Thank you" I said, and went off to calm down and
get changed. Sadly I don't remember much about the gig there was to much
else going on in my head. What if he had called my bluff and why was he
being like that? The towels were there, he just didn't want to give them
to us. Same with the beer, he was just trying to save himself a bit more
money, even though all the food and drinks for the dressing rooms were
accounted for. I was too cross and fed up to enjoy much of the evening
I'm afraid. I went out to watch Spock's after we were on, then I found
out that - deep joy - we were staying the night, and would be leaving
in the morning as it was only 180km to Essen, and the bus could have the
land line all night I got on the bus and I think this was the evening Al brought his acoustic on board and was playing Beatles songs and goodness knows what else, along with Jimmy, Rio and Dave, Both Johns and Bob were upstairs and then outside smoking at various points during the proceedings. We went through too many songs to remember, then the guitar went upstairs with Al to show John M who had a play, so out came some Gabriel and a few It Bites songs with Bob playing the beer and Coke cans, John Beck and John Mitchell singing, and Kate and I sitting there just enjoyng the blast. Then 'Afraid of Sunlight', one of JM's favourite Marillion songs, along with some Urbane. I got to have a go at some Brazilian-style stuff of no particular origin - it might have started with 'One Note Samba' though, seemed to fit the balmy evening. John Beck was in his element. He just loves music so much, it's nice to find other people who feel the same way about it as I do. Eventually the guitar got put to bed as people starting moving to their bunks, and that was another day given up to the cause.
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