We're finally back. I drove 2800 miles (4500km) in 5 days (including Oxford to Linz on the first day, and Nurnberg to Oxford on the way back [as well as various dropping off points around London]). Needless to say I was pretty damned knacked upon my return.
Tom's written up a bit of a report that I shall edit slightly (you will see why. Also, in fairness it was the roadies / tour manager of the edited band who caused the problems and not the band themselves [apart from the drumming thing..]) and add a few pics to
Here's Tom's report:
Back in the UK after a week spent riding around numerous countries in the back of a Mercedes Sprinter (affectionately known as "Maximus"). The joy of sitting down for hours at a time whilst staring at the back of Lee's head was only twice interrupted by the inconvenience of having to unload instruments and play them in front of people, so, all in all, the driving went without a hitch.
However, it was during the brief spells outside of the van that the events of most interest took place, so it is these which I shall relate.
Having left Oxfordshire at 5am on Monday morning, our first stop was the town of Linz in Austria. I assume it was a town, for all I saw of it was the Novotel in which we were staying, where the delightful girl at reception proved that blondeness is more a state of mind than a superior genetic trait by managing to convert Hugo's £20 into 13 Euros, and then claiming that there was an error in the computer programme. To her credit, she did try to placate us by making up our beds personally and arranging herself in a number of erotic positions, before giving up and leaving before we had managed to find our room (this episode, of course, we can only assume to have occurred, based on the rumpled state of Hugo's bedsheets and the smell of perfume emanating from them).
Next day was the drive to Budapest. After breaching the defences of an army barracks (to park our van - whose registration number was only checked AFTER we had entered - if anyone feels like invading Hungary, just waltz right in - the army probably won't notice you until it's too late!), we met up with Julie's Amazonian sisters and were escorted to a medieval themed restaurant in the bowels of Pest, where flagons of ale and platters of dead animals were served by wenches with hourglass waistlines, much to Paul's approval. Possibly too much mirth and merriment was had by all, as we reached the Polenka-induced state of inebriation that was conducive to thinking that only a food-fight with the neighbouring table would be the most appropriate means of social discourse. Our diplomatic skills were put to the test after an innocent bystander received a duck-carcass to the back of the head (where this came from is anyone's guess). The happy outcome of this episode was that we met a host of French people (plus the odd token Dutch and Englishman) who were persuaded to come and see us at our show at the Sziget fest the next day. At which point it dawned on me that getting rat-arsed the night before a show and assaulting your potential audience with food was probably not the best way to prepare for a gig, so we retired to Julie's friend's apartment.
Gig day 1: Budapest. Hangovers all round, but everyone pumped for the show. We arrive at Sziget a couple of hours before showtime to get our bearings etc. We happened to be sharing the backstage area with ****** **********, a band who will have the unprecedented honour of feeling my personal wrath during the progress of this report.
Soundcheck got off to a great start by me putting down my pedalboard only to feel a massive spasm down the back of my right hamstring. The notorious cramp strikes again, and this time it was so bad I had to limp back and forth across the stage to get my equipment. If anyone wants to know why I spent most of the show standing virtually motionless....
This was shortly followed by Paul's discovery that the hi-hat stand had disappeared from the shared drum kit. How odd! Only a moment ago the previous band had been playing with it. Could they have mistakenly taken it with them? Oh no! Silly me! It was only the drummer from ****** ********** who felt a sudden urge to do some practice. Surely he won't mind if we take it back? Oh. He needs it to practice? Now? How does he think we're supposed to play without one?
Hmmph. Not overly enamoured with these Dutch chappies so far, but several stage managers manage to convince him that the other bands might need to use it as well, and Lee swipes it whilst he's not looking anyway. Before long, we're ready to roll, and we launch straight in with a new song, The Lie. The sound that leapt back at me through my monitors was enough to make even the strongest constitution quiver. My guitar had been turned up so loud I couldn't even hear the drums directly behind me, and as a result felt totally lost throughout the duration of that song. At the end, I looked over to the monitor desk to see it unmanned! Unoccupied! There was no choice but to carry on into the next song with the same state of affairs...
....during which, incidentally, the chaps from ****** ********** thought it would be a good time to test their wireless mics. Whilst Julie was singing. Now in my book, that's just not on! (Lee: They actually rendered Julie's wireless mic useless while they did their testing, meaning she couldn't be heard through the outside PA at all for the first couple of songs... But you could hear "testing 1-2, testing 1-2", etc while we played..))
By the fourth song, Julie's voice had finally emerged from the mix and everything else had settled, so we finally began to get into it and enjoy our performance a bit more for the remainder of the set. But not before we had to witness the audacity of **'s drumtech testing their drumkit on the side of the stage IN THE MIDDLE OF ONE OF OUR QUIET MOMENTS!
Fair people of Sziget! I am not one to make excuses! We did not perform at our best that day. I will not blame the compromising circumstances which perhaps a more professional band would have managed to overcome, so I can only apologise for a relatively lacklustre show.
But to have to put up with the selfishness and idiotic behaviour of a group of people who should know better ... I will make no apologies when I say that, whilst I initially regarded ** as a harmless goth-rock band with bland melodies and uninspiring musicianship, I now genuinely regard them as a bunch of big fat ********* who think that now they've reached the big-time they have the right to shit on their "subordinates". Nuff said.
OK, grudge time over now.
Anyway, it seemed most of the crowd enjoyed our set, even if we came off feeling a bit frustrated. It was lovely to meet some foreign fans and pose for photographs with foreign girls (no, they asked me, not the other way round! Honestly!), who seemed genuinely appreciative of my talents.
So a line was drawn under that gig and we immediately started looking forward to Brutal Assault in the Czech Republic the next day....
..... That is, I was looking forward to it in the same way that one might look forward to exams or something. Whilst I'm game for anything, I have to confess, I was slightly mystified as to why what is effectively a death metal festival should want us to play there. I had visions of being forced off stage by a barrage of piss-bottles.
Anyway, there wasn't much time to worry about that because, after having bribed our way across the Czech border (Czechs have a vendetta against Hungarians apparently. Poor Julie - we were worried it was going to be another "Stream of Passion" episode...) we suddenly found ourselves driving around a vast, derelict army fortress in the middle of the foothills. I have to hand it to them. Whoever decided to hold a metal festival inside an abandoned army fortress is a ing genius!
We were eventually guided towards a large wooden gateway in the side of a building, which led us into a huge courtyard inside what must have once served as the Czech Republics army HQ or something. The whole place had an atmosphere of a city under siege. We were guided literally by candelight through dark archways and corridors, past "operations/ production offices" lit only by candlelight, until we finally emerged into the backstage area. What a sight! Two large stages side by side, with the festival ground surrounded on all four sides by four huge walls, overgrown with ivy. Full marks for atmosphere!
Whilst backstage organisation was a little muddled, fortunately the onstage techies knew exactly what they were doing. Nerves began to settle as it appeared that the people gathering in front of the stage were actually there to watch us, rather than pelt bottles at us. After waiting for Leng Tche on the other stage to finish, we launched straight into our set, and what a joy to hear a perfectly crisp and tight mix coming out of our monitors. We hit our stride quickly and, in general, we gave a much better performance than the day before. It was also a delight to see us light up a few smiles in the audience (let's face it, we were definitely the "fruity option" of the day), and we managed to build up a pretty sizeable crowd. The death metal purists had the decency to at least be indifferent and wait at the other stage for Aborted to strike up.
Despite the fact that it rained throughout our set, and the mild frustration that my fingers started to fall behind towards the end, we came off having really enjoyed ourselves, and feeling hugely relieved that what we expected to be a hostile crowd turned out to be surprisingly enthusiastic and welcoming.
So, overall, Sziget was so-so, whilst Brutal Assault was generally felt to be a success by all. I have to say, the atmosphere of the latter event really helped us rise to the occasion. I'd love to return there if they manage to retain the festival site.
[/img]
Tom's written up a bit of a report that I shall edit slightly (you will see why. Also, in fairness it was the roadies / tour manager of the edited band who caused the problems and not the band themselves [apart from the drumming thing..]) and add a few pics to
Here's Tom's report:
Back in the UK after a week spent riding around numerous countries in the back of a Mercedes Sprinter (affectionately known as "Maximus"). The joy of sitting down for hours at a time whilst staring at the back of Lee's head was only twice interrupted by the inconvenience of having to unload instruments and play them in front of people, so, all in all, the driving went without a hitch.
However, it was during the brief spells outside of the van that the events of most interest took place, so it is these which I shall relate.
Having left Oxfordshire at 5am on Monday morning, our first stop was the town of Linz in Austria. I assume it was a town, for all I saw of it was the Novotel in which we were staying, where the delightful girl at reception proved that blondeness is more a state of mind than a superior genetic trait by managing to convert Hugo's £20 into 13 Euros, and then claiming that there was an error in the computer programme. To her credit, she did try to placate us by making up our beds personally and arranging herself in a number of erotic positions, before giving up and leaving before we had managed to find our room (this episode, of course, we can only assume to have occurred, based on the rumpled state of Hugo's bedsheets and the smell of perfume emanating from them).
Next day was the drive to Budapest. After breaching the defences of an army barracks (to park our van - whose registration number was only checked AFTER we had entered - if anyone feels like invading Hungary, just waltz right in - the army probably won't notice you until it's too late!), we met up with Julie's Amazonian sisters and were escorted to a medieval themed restaurant in the bowels of Pest, where flagons of ale and platters of dead animals were served by wenches with hourglass waistlines, much to Paul's approval. Possibly too much mirth and merriment was had by all, as we reached the Polenka-induced state of inebriation that was conducive to thinking that only a food-fight with the neighbouring table would be the most appropriate means of social discourse. Our diplomatic skills were put to the test after an innocent bystander received a duck-carcass to the back of the head (where this came from is anyone's guess). The happy outcome of this episode was that we met a host of French people (plus the odd token Dutch and Englishman) who were persuaded to come and see us at our show at the Sziget fest the next day. At which point it dawned on me that getting rat-arsed the night before a show and assaulting your potential audience with food was probably not the best way to prepare for a gig, so we retired to Julie's friend's apartment.
Gig day 1: Budapest. Hangovers all round, but everyone pumped for the show. We arrive at Sziget a couple of hours before showtime to get our bearings etc. We happened to be sharing the backstage area with ****** **********, a band who will have the unprecedented honour of feeling my personal wrath during the progress of this report.
Soundcheck got off to a great start by me putting down my pedalboard only to feel a massive spasm down the back of my right hamstring. The notorious cramp strikes again, and this time it was so bad I had to limp back and forth across the stage to get my equipment. If anyone wants to know why I spent most of the show standing virtually motionless....
This was shortly followed by Paul's discovery that the hi-hat stand had disappeared from the shared drum kit. How odd! Only a moment ago the previous band had been playing with it. Could they have mistakenly taken it with them? Oh no! Silly me! It was only the drummer from ****** ********** who felt a sudden urge to do some practice. Surely he won't mind if we take it back? Oh. He needs it to practice? Now? How does he think we're supposed to play without one?
Hmmph. Not overly enamoured with these Dutch chappies so far, but several stage managers manage to convince him that the other bands might need to use it as well, and Lee swipes it whilst he's not looking anyway. Before long, we're ready to roll, and we launch straight in with a new song, The Lie. The sound that leapt back at me through my monitors was enough to make even the strongest constitution quiver. My guitar had been turned up so loud I couldn't even hear the drums directly behind me, and as a result felt totally lost throughout the duration of that song. At the end, I looked over to the monitor desk to see it unmanned! Unoccupied! There was no choice but to carry on into the next song with the same state of affairs...
....during which, incidentally, the chaps from ****** ********** thought it would be a good time to test their wireless mics. Whilst Julie was singing. Now in my book, that's just not on! (Lee: They actually rendered Julie's wireless mic useless while they did their testing, meaning she couldn't be heard through the outside PA at all for the first couple of songs... But you could hear "testing 1-2, testing 1-2", etc while we played..))
By the fourth song, Julie's voice had finally emerged from the mix and everything else had settled, so we finally began to get into it and enjoy our performance a bit more for the remainder of the set. But not before we had to witness the audacity of **'s drumtech testing their drumkit on the side of the stage IN THE MIDDLE OF ONE OF OUR QUIET MOMENTS!
Fair people of Sziget! I am not one to make excuses! We did not perform at our best that day. I will not blame the compromising circumstances which perhaps a more professional band would have managed to overcome, so I can only apologise for a relatively lacklustre show.
But to have to put up with the selfishness and idiotic behaviour of a group of people who should know better ... I will make no apologies when I say that, whilst I initially regarded ** as a harmless goth-rock band with bland melodies and uninspiring musicianship, I now genuinely regard them as a bunch of big fat ********* who think that now they've reached the big-time they have the right to shit on their "subordinates". Nuff said.
OK, grudge time over now.
Anyway, it seemed most of the crowd enjoyed our set, even if we came off feeling a bit frustrated. It was lovely to meet some foreign fans and pose for photographs with foreign girls (no, they asked me, not the other way round! Honestly!), who seemed genuinely appreciative of my talents
.So a line was drawn under that gig and we immediately started looking forward to Brutal Assault in the Czech Republic the next day....
..... That is, I was looking forward to it in the same way that one might look forward to exams or something. Whilst I'm game for anything, I have to confess, I was slightly mystified as to why what is effectively a death metal festival should want us to play there. I had visions of being forced off stage by a barrage of piss-bottles.
Anyway, there wasn't much time to worry about that because, after having bribed our way across the Czech border (Czechs have a vendetta against Hungarians apparently. Poor Julie - we were worried it was going to be another "Stream of Passion" episode...) we suddenly found ourselves driving around a vast, derelict army fortress in the middle of the foothills. I have to hand it to them. Whoever decided to hold a metal festival inside an abandoned army fortress is a ing genius!
We were eventually guided towards a large wooden gateway in the side of a building, which led us into a huge courtyard inside what must have once served as the Czech Republics army HQ or something. The whole place had an atmosphere of a city under siege. We were guided literally by candelight through dark archways and corridors, past "operations/ production offices" lit only by candlelight, until we finally emerged into the backstage area. What a sight! Two large stages side by side, with the festival ground surrounded on all four sides by four huge walls, overgrown with ivy. Full marks for atmosphere!
Whilst backstage organisation was a little muddled, fortunately the onstage techies knew exactly what they were doing. Nerves began to settle as it appeared that the people gathering in front of the stage were actually there to watch us, rather than pelt bottles at us. After waiting for Leng Tche on the other stage to finish, we launched straight into our set, and what a joy to hear a perfectly crisp and tight mix coming out of our monitors. We hit our stride quickly and, in general, we gave a much better performance than the day before. It was also a delight to see us light up a few smiles in the audience (let's face it, we were definitely the "fruity option" of the day), and we managed to build up a pretty sizeable crowd. The death metal purists had the decency to at least be indifferent and wait at the other stage for Aborted to strike up.
Despite the fact that it rained throughout our set, and the mild frustration that my fingers started to fall behind towards the end, we came off having really enjoyed ourselves, and feeling hugely relieved that what we expected to be a hostile crowd turned out to be surprisingly enthusiastic and welcoming.
So, overall, Sziget was so-so, whilst Brutal Assault was generally felt to be a success by all. I have to say, the atmosphere of the latter event really helped us rise to the occasion. I'd love to return there if they manage to retain the festival site.
