October 17th: Brighton Concorde
Oh I do like to be beside the seaside … oh I do like to be beside the sea …
If you haven’t been to Brighton before, it has a beach … of sorts. It’s not sand, it’s all pebbles. The Concorde is right on the beach, so it’s morning coffee with the rocks between your toes … not really THAT comfortable.
First job of today is to take the boys in the band to BIMM, the Brighton Institute of Modern Music, to talk to the kids. We get into the little lecture room and I’m not sure who’s more scared, the band or the kids. It’s like a whole warren of rabbits caught in the headlights of a really big truck. It’s not long before the questions are flowing and everyone has loosened up a bit.
BIMM
Next job of the day is Juice 107.2FM for a live session and an interview. We’ve done so many of these now that we’ve got a little game we play. While the presenter is focusing solely on the band, and not paying attention to me at all, I’m making faces behind her back. Yes, OK, it might seem rather childish, but it keeps us amused as we get the same dull questions over and over again.
Now, with that done we can finally head back to the gig to soundcheck.
I have to say that tonight’s gig is slightly out of the ordinary. It’s been sold out for more that four weeks and there’s still people turning up hoping to get tickets on the door. The punters who ARE in tonight just seem to be up for it, and it’s an absolutely blinding show, with the band feeding off the energy of the crowd.
Today is also the first day of us having a new support band, and I just realised I haven’t spoken at all about the support bands so far.
Opening most of the shows for us are Fortune Drive, then as main support up until now we had Polytechnic. As of today they’ve left us and we have The Grates, all the way from Australia.
Brighton Sunset
The joys of the south coast fade into the night as we head for York.
October 18th: York Fibbers
Fibbers used to be a bit of a hellhole. Then the Barfly organisation took it over … and nothing really changed.
I guess it’s not THAT bad. It’s not like it’s in France or anything.
To be honest, the people here are actually really nice, they do what they can to look after you. It’s just a tiny little place, with a PA that needs serious attention.
It’s NOT a bong… honest!
I have to say that nothing much interesting happened today, we just got on with it.
October 19th: Stoke Sugarmill
Most of today consisted of wandering around Stoke city centre, following bad directions and failing to find a laundrette. Actually, the last few days have all been like that, but today was particularly annoying as I’m down to my last clean change of clothes.
My only escape from the day-to-day drudgery of no laundrettes, and of course touring, was a trip to the supermarket. We’re having a day off tomorrow, back at the farm, need to stock up on stuff for making enough breakfast for 14 people.
There’s something very calming about the cheesy muzak numbing my ears as I wander quite aimlessly around Tesco’s looking for veggie bacon … sorry, veggie ’bacon style rashers’. The only annoying bit is, for the life of me, I can’t find black pudding to equal out the equation.
As far as the gig goes … A message to the people of Stoke: YER ALL MENTAL!
It was just non-stop crowd surfing tonight, not at all what I’d expect from a Young Knives type of audience. Even when they play ’Tailors’ which is a sort of solo acoustic song, there are kids coming over the top … mental.
’House’ moving faster than a speeding shutter. 
Henry …
Anyway, we get packed and leave as quickly as we can … back to the farm for a day off. Yippee.
Not drunk. Well … maybe just a little. October 20th: Day Off – Oxford-ish.
I’m sure I’ve said this before, but calling it a day off is a misnomer. It’s really a ’non show day’. When I get up at 10.30 I’ve already got four missed calls from management on my phone. Don’t they read the itineraries? Don’t they know it’s supposed to be a day off?
At the farm.
Today we know we can find laundry, so a few of us pack into the band’s little van and drive into Oxford.
There’s something strangely therapeutic about sitting watching your dirty clothes tumble over and over and come out clean. If only we could do that with our souls, take them to a spiritual laundrette.
’House’ bored in the laundrette.
Another trip to the supermarket is required. Henry’s lovely wife Cat, and her friend Pumpkin (not her real name, obviously, that would just be silly
) have made a huge pot of stew for dinner, along with all sorts of roast veg. It’s my job to pick up everything else we need. Basically this entails buying lots of beer, some wine, and a strangely large amount of Apple Strudel and double cream … oh, and toilet paper.
Back at the farm it’s feast time. I have to say, for two such beautiful ladies, Cat and Pumpkin are both also very handy in the kitchen. I offer to help a few times but I’m chased out the kitchen with various sharp implements.
After dinner we have a few hours to relax before all pilling on the bus again. Cardiff is calling, and we have to get in early in the morning to beat the traffic …
