The first European leg
was over (leg… over… hurrr
hurrr). As a band, we were reasonably
well-oiled and ready to work more. It
was time to cross the Atlantic for my first-ever tour of the United States, and
my second-ever trip to Canada. To say I was excited would be a bit of an
under-statement. Worries about visa
approvals and passports not being returned on time ate up most of the fortnight
or so prior to the trip, but once our travel documents were safely back in our
hands, all systems were go.
I wrote a bit here about far too much happening for me
to have captured it all, and how boring most of it would seem to anyone who
wasn’t there. Then I decided that I
didn’t care if it was boring or not!
It’s probably overly wordy, and I’m sure I missed a load of fun stuff by
being boring or, more importantly, simply Not There while fun things were
happening. I wrote what I saw and
thought and felt. I hope you enjoy
it. I bloody well did.
Thursday
27 October 2016 (Home – Falls Church, VA)
Whatever Pecks is doing to Atherton, he seems to be enjoying it...
I had
booked an early DadTaxi™, but due to a slight problem with the exhaust, that
option was unavailable. The MumTaxi™
arrived instead, and I was on my way. Ali
“noice one, mayte!” Azimi ‘phoned me whilst we were both en route, trying to
find out whether he’d beat me to the airport - as if!*
I had a
quick coffee with my driver (thanks Mum!) before heading off to the check-in
area to wait for the rest of the band.
Ali appeared, followed shortly thereafter by the rest of the band, and
we started queuing for our first flight.
We were flying out to Reykjavík, where we would change for Baltimore, Maryland. In all my experience of flying, the folks at
airline check-in desks are generally friendly, polite, and know what they’re
doing. On this occasion, we had arrived
at Gatwick in plenty of time, but the queue was long and going nowhere
fast. We later found out why; upon reaching the front, we were
faced with the most incompetent and combative airline check-in staff I can
imagine. Despite brandishing our visas
(which had cost a small fortune in both money and time to acquire), our nemeses
were adamant that we needed to furnish them with paper copies of our valid
ESTAs. I had two problems with this:
one, the “E” stands for electronic, and; two, the ESTA is related to a visa waiver program – we had visas!
All this idiocy left us
with precious little time to get through security and, of course, some of our
bags were then searched by Gatwick security (not that I blame them, of course;
it all makes me feel rather safer, but I could have done without it at that point!). Although the flight was ultimately an hour
late in taking off, which caused us to fret slightly about successfully boarding our
connecting flight, my stress level dipped a little while in the air. I got chatting to the lovely lady sat next to
me, a teacher whose family (seated in the row in front) had treated her to a weekend
away in Reykjavík to celebrate her birthday.
I hope she had a lovely time.
Sully: "Oooh, matron!"
Throughout the flight we
were told not to worry about connections – “Don’t
worry, everything is delayed out of Reykjavík!”. This turned out to be utter bollocks. We landed, and were subsequently stranded on
the plane until they could locate some steps to allow us to get off the bloody
thing. Then we had to get a bus to the gate. As we
were legging it through the airport, my heart sank to notice the departures screen stating that the gate for our flight to Baltimore was already closed.
“It’s all over!” I thought. I
am, however, prone to catastrophising. We
were cheerfully waved through the gate by some handsome blonde types, and as we
were on the jetway we saw our gear getting loaded into the underbelly of the
big ‘plane. Our connecting flight left
bang on time, although we were clearly the last on-board. Phew!
The second flight was
very pretty; I love being up above the clouds, especially in the perpetual
afternoon sun. On this
flight, I was seated between an American lady (who quietly read her e-reader for the
whole flight, but kindly lent me her pen), and Isabel; a Dominican lady who had
lived in Germany for 20 years. She spoke
bugger-all English, and needed some help in filling out her US customs
form. I did my best in my own terrible
Spanish, and we just about got through the form. I managed to ascertain that she was visiting
her daughter in Virginia. She tried to
explain what her daughter did for a living (something to do with medical
insurance was the best I could understand), but she spent most of the descent
showing me photographs; she must be a very proud madre.
All the
gear had made it across the pond with us, although my keyboard case and Rich “where's
Carol with my need?" Perks’ guitar case had apparently been left out on
the tarmac in the rain for a while; Pecks was dismayed to find that his
on-board tuner was only working intermittently.
Thankfully, once it dried out it was fine. Although we were all carrying boxes of CDs, I
was the only one stopped by customs. Joy
of joys. Once through that, we were out
onto the street and piled into waiting cars.
The lovely Alexander drove myself and Tom “sexed myself to leglessness”
Sullivan to the Best Western in Falls Church, where we checked into room
242. Once everyone was present and
correct, Ali went out for dinner with friends (including our surprise guest for
the first gig), and the rest of us went to a nearby diner for some grub and
some need before groggily heading to bed.
It had been a long day, though that didn’t stop Sully and me making some
very silly videos.
*He did actually beat me to the airport once,
but we won’t talk about that.
Friday 28 October (Richard J. Ernst Community
Cultural Center, Washington DC)
The Lincoln Memorial
This tour
was taking in towns and states I had never set foot in, so I was determined to
take every opportunity to see sights.
Poor Pecks wasn’t feeling well (not a great start to the tour for poor
Perksy, but he got over it quick enough), and he’d already done the sights in
this town, so it was just three of us piling into a taxi to go and check out
the monuments that loom large over DC.
Our driver was an Iranian fellow, who knew of tonight’s guest
artist. We checked out the Lincoln
Memorial and the Korean War Veterans Memorial, both of which were hugely
impressive.
***BLEEDING
HEART ALERT***
It was the
MLK memorial that sticks firmly in my recollection of the trip; I found that
one quite profoundly moving. An enormous
boulder with the middle section set away from it (“Out of the mountain of despair, a stone
of hope”) with various quotations inscribed on the walls of the surrounding
granite. One in particular got to me; "Injustice
anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable
network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one
directly, affects all indirectly."
He wrote that from prison, aged 34.
Wise, young, passionate… and murdered for it. I’d like to think that from that bullet, fired
in hate, we learned something as a species.
The fact that the memorial exists perhaps is testament to that. Although I don’t think we’ve learned all that
much. Perhaps we ought to listen to our
visionaries a little bit more than we do.
“We don't live alone. We are members of one
body. We are responsible for each other. And I tell you that the time will soon
come when, if men will not learn that lesson, then they will be taught it in
fire and blood and anguish.” – (J.B. Priestley, ‘An Inspector Calls’)
Ahem.
***NORMAL SERVICE
RESUMES***
A pre-post-truth world. With goons.
After the memorials, we
headed down to the museums via the Washington Monument. It was a bit windy! En route to take some silly photos in the
Smithsonian, Tom "Ray Winstone, Lollipop Man" Atherton’s
long, shaggy hair and beard was adored by a passing veteran - "That's a good start, young man!" The Air and Space Museum was particularly
impressive, and I would have loved to have spent more time there, but we wanted
to get to see Capitol Hill, and had places to be. We headed back to Falls Church in plenty of
time to have some lunch before getting ready to leave for the gig.
We’d
arranged to meet downstairs in the hotel.
I was determined to get a drink, so headed down to the bar a bit early. The lovely Thuy was behind the bar, and we
chatted for a bit about her and how she ended up in the States (memory does not
allow, sadly!). I asked for a double
bourbon; what appeared was basically a pint of Wild Turkey with some ice in
it! Whoops. Americans have a different approach to
measures, it would seem! Not that I was
complaining… As it turned out,
sound-check was significantly delayed.
Typical. I managed to resist the
temptation to simply carry on drinking, and we eventually left for the venue,
hitting the afternoon rush-hour traffic.
Sound-check over-ran quite spectacularly, leading me to apologise
profusely to the support act (who were really rather good about it all!).
Are you loitering if you're taking photographs?
As I
started to get ready to go on-stage, I realised I’d left all my stage clothes
back at the hotel. Skills! A fine start to the tour. Never mind.
The gig was good. A few
first-night jitters, but we were well received.
Our special guest was Faramarz Aslani, a genteel chap whose song ‘Ageh Ye Rooz’, I would later learn, is
pretty much the first thing any Iranian who picks up the guitar learns to
play. We had rehearsed the song to play
with him, but at the last minute I had ended up playing bass instead of keys on
it – a bit of a surprise, but it went fine and ended up being the highlight of
the show for me.
I managed
to upset security just after the show by daring to get dressed in our dressing
room while they were in there (“Sir, pull
your pants up. PULL YOUR PANTS UP!”)
Whoops. Then it was off to TGI Fridays
for burger and some fantastic red wine need.
Saturday
29 October (Washington DC – Palace Arts
Center, Dallas, TX)
Custom party?
On
gathering in the morning, we learned that the first casualties of the tour had
been Ali’s ‘man-bag’ and Sully’s laptop cable.
There’s nearly always something that gets left behind at gigs. We
were rather late in to the airport, and ended up having to get
slightly fast-tracked through security (who, again, checked my bag – there must
be something about a short, fat Englishman with a hold-all that sets the alarms
off!). I had been stressing out again
about the late-ness and being personally held-up by security when I knew I had
to be on-board in about ten minutes was not doing my mental state any
favours. By the time I got on the plane,
there was no room left in the over-head bins for my bag, which had to go in the
hold. Bless them though, the on-board
staff noted my state of distress and immediately diagnosed that I was in need
of need. They handed me 3 50cl bottles
of premium red wine. I was in a state of
some refreshment upon touching down in Dallas!
Gawd bless Virgin America.
“The only thing I’ve got from
this is a semi-on!” - Dr. Pecks
Sound-check
at the Palace Arts Center was extraordinarily painless, and after hunting
around town for some decent grub (and failing), we were whisked back to the
hotel. We couldn’t not giggle at the
massive Gaylord hotel we passed on the way (you sort of regress a bit when
you’re on tour – and you stay regressed for quite some time after you come
back!). It’s true what they say;
everything is bigger in Texas. Our hotel
room was about the size of my flat in London.
Backstage at the Palace
The world is his gym.
Pecks tries to shift Dallas *slightly* to the left.
The gig
was absolutely fantastic. It was, to all
intents and purposes, a Halloween show; Sully had splashed out on face paint
for us all, and we had worked up a quick cover of Ghostbusters to work into the
set for a bit of seasonal fun, which went down really well. We all had loads of fun on stage, and were
suitably fired up for the Halloween disco after-party next door. The audience were really warm and friendly,
and lots of photos and signing went on.
A lovely time had by all.
Afterwards we got driven off to Whataburger, where I consumed the most
disgusting food I think I’ve ever had in my life. Even worse than my first attempt at making
tiramisu. Eugh. Eugh.
EUGH!
Sunday
30 October (Dallas, TX – Music Box, San
Diego, CA)
Politics.
We had an 8:30
lobby call for our early-ish flight to San Diego. “8:30 sharp!” The word ‘sharp’
appended to a time became something of a joke over the course of the tour. Much as the given time of arrival in Douglas
Adams’ concept of ‘Bistro-mathics’, the time at which we had all agreed to meet
in the lobby in the morning was the one moment of time at which it was
impossible that any member of the
band would actually turn up. A bit like
the trains; sometimes early, usually late, never bloody on time!
The
weather was beautiful in Dallas as we drove to the airport. Our driver quipped that, just like in Game Of
Thrones, “They keep telling us winter is
coming, but it never f***ing arrives!” Airport security were very cheerful,
which made a welcome change. For the
first time so far on the tour, we weren’t running late, and got some to sit
about in the departure lounge enjoying the photos from the previous night’s gig
– some lovely shots from that one. Pecks
bought himself a copy of a fitness magazine, appropriately featuring former
California governer Schwarzenegger on the cover – “I’m totally trying out the
Arnie workout when I get home,” said he.
The flight was pretty dull; we sat on the ‘plane for over an hour before
it took off, and the coffee was brown dishwater. It was a far cry from Virgin America; I was
definitely looking forward to flying with them again.
We are not a full strength funk band.
We were met at the
airport and taken straight for a delicious lunch at Petreni’s in Little Italy,
just up the road from the venue.
Afterwards we went for sound-check, which was reasonably painless once
again. The venue was a great looking
little club with big floor space, and balconies above on two levels, and we had
video projection behind us for the first time on the tour. Ali took the time to talk to the video guys
about what to put behind us for each song while we finished up the finer points
of the onstage sound, and then we all headed off to the hotel. We were in a motel style place just by the
bay, which was quite a sight. Palm
trees, water, the ocean not far… bliss.
Atherton and I checked into 206 and got our heads down for a bit, as we
were well knackered by this point. I could barely drift off in the time we had
before getting back to the venue.
The view from the office.
The support band were
pulling out some tasty prog-metal chops, to which Atherton and I nodded our
approval as we passed the stage on our way to the dressing room to get
ready. The promoter, Kia, had laid on
loads of booze and food for us which was very welcome. We were really well looked after more or less
everywhere we went on this tour, which makes such a change from gigging in the
UK; most of the time, bars and venues look on musicians as being as irritating
as a tropical skin disease, rather than an attraction keeping people in their
bars drinking their beer. As a result, I
enjoy (and am very grateful for) being treated nicely whenever it happens.
The gig was amazing. The best of the tour, bar none (for me,
anyway). Personally, in the first half I
couldn’t put a foot wrong, and the crowd were right into it straight away. I remember turning round and looking at the
video screen during ‘Donya Joye Gozare’ and seeing the music video for the
track playing, with the moodily-lit black and white people starting to rise
from the ground at just the right moment.
Magic. The rest of the boys were definitely feeling the
good vibes as well; the second half was extremely well-oiled (thanks to the
bottles and bottles of Stella which had been provided!). Ali and I had been
starting the second set with a piano and vocal song, into which I had been
adding the opening refrain of ‘Pishdaramad’, the hit single. Most crowds went beserk when they heard this,
which was kind of the point; I had to do it twice before this crowd got
it! But still, they were utterly
wonderful. Pecks and I had one of those
magic moments during the last song of the main set, on which I was playing
guitar – the reggae breakdown turned into a guitar solo trade-off, without any
prior planning or rehearsal! We both
just went with it, as did the rest of the band.
Lots of fun, and something we’ll definitely do again. The video of Pecks chucking out some
glow-stick sunglasses off his face into the crowd just before launching into
the final triumphant guitar solo was a particular highlight.
Love. Guitar love.
How To Track Wild Guitarists, chapter 3: Bananas
Atherton had some family
in the crowd – a second cousin on honeymoon, and their friend from Toronto - who
joined us for drinks at the Waterfront Bar & Grill afterwards. I remember the drinking getting quite
emotional; we were all so happy with how the gigs had gone so far, this night
in particular, and we all really enjoying each other’s company. I won’t forget that night in San Diego for
quite a long time. Not least because I
had to put a very drunken Pecks to bed; bless!
Praise Jeebus for a late check-out…
Monday
31 October (San Diego – Los Angeles, CA)
Pecks still can't understand why the Littlewoods catalogue never called him for a photo-shoot.
Atherton,
Pecks and me went off to get some breakfast at a nearby ‘Jack In The Box’. Pecks later christened it, ‘Jack In The Slag’
after the meal left him in some gastric distress! Ali went off with his friend Ali (which got
confusing when I tried to explain it to someone else later), while the rest of
the boys went to pick up the hire car.
It was a easy drive to L.A., though we hit the city in the evening rush
hour – it took us longer to get across L.A. than it took to get up the I-5 from
San Diego. The banter on the road was
particularly hilarious as we came up with imaginary films along the way. “Ray
Winstone plays Johnny Depp, in… ‘Johnny Depp Is Ray Winstone’…”. The
useless GPS navigation thing kept turning itself off, which was a little
unsettling. Thankfully it was a fairly
straight shot until we got into L.A. itself, and we got there safely.
We checked
into the small apartment that we would call home until it was time to head off
to San Francisco on Thursday, and went to Buffalo Wild Wings on Hollywood
Boulevard for din dins. Pecks continued
the assault on his insides by asking for his wings ‘extra hot’ – as he confided
in me in San Diego, he likes it to hurt!
Cock banana. I tried to think of something witty, but...just... cock banana.
Tuesday
1 November 2016 (Los Angeles, CA)
I hear the sound of marching feet . . . down
Sunset Blvd. to Crescent Heights, and there, at Pandora's Box, we are confronted with . . . a vast quantity of PLASTIC PEOPLE
Pecks hit
the Hollywood Gym, then after he got back we wandered off to check out the
guitar shops on Sunset Boulevard. Guitar
Center and Sam Ash had all the usual tricks, but the real find was the Mesa Boogie shop. Pecks has a Mesa Boogie at home, and they are
pretty special amps. We had a good long
chat with the guys in there before heading over the street to the Aroma café
for a really nice lunch.
Keepin' it swampy.
Once back
in the apartment, Sully and I got everybody’s washing done before we all piled
back in the car to drive to Amp Rehearsal Studios on Lankershim Boulevard in
North Hollywood. We were going to be
joined by a couple of guest artists for the L.A. show on Sunday, so rehearsed
the tracks with them. Hamed Nikpay rehearsed ‘Ah Az Eshgh’ with
us, adding an extra verse which was rather pleasant and kept us on our toes,
and Mamek Khadem came along to run through ‘Zendegi’ and ‘Farde Soraghe Man
Bia”. Mamek and I got to jam back and
forth on an extended intro to the latter, which was quite exciting.
After the
rehearsal, at my begging, we headed for the Rainbow Bar & Grill – a bit of
L.A. rock hallowed ground – where I had yet another pint of bourbon (stop
ordering doubles!), a Philly cheesesteak, and paid my respects to Lemmy. Pecks went a bit Rainham on the bar and came
back with a LARGE round of drinks just before closing, which proved unfortunate
– they don’t do ‘drinking-up time’ in the States, apparently!
I'm happier than I look.
Wednesday 2 November
(Day off, Los Angeles, CA)
They're happier than they look.
Pecks off
to the gym again. Atherton, Sully and me
headed off to IHOP for a sugary breakfast.
Once Pecks was back we decided to head off and do some
sight-seeing. We headed all the way up
into the Hollywood Hills to check out the Griffith Observatory, which was
incredible. There was so much to enjoy
there, but I was particularly taken with the magic thing there where you could
look directly at the surface of the sun (wow!) and a big Periodic Table with an
example of nearly every element on display.
Afterwards, Sully drove us through the winding roads of rich-looking
houses to try and get us as close to the Hollywood sign as he could.
Pedo-bear gets everywhere.
Holly woo.
In the
evening we went on a bit of a tour of Hollywood Boulevard’s rock bars, such as
they were. We checked out Loaded and the
Burgundy Room, before sitting down for some slightly ropey burritos at the Cabo
Cantina (I would have rather gone in Musso and Frank’s next door, as I probably
loudly complained at the time, but went with the collective). We headed back to Loaded after that for a few
more and hung out with people in the ‘industry’… Athers had a bit of a crash, and I’d had my
fill of gassy beer, so walked back to the apartment with him via a liquor
store, and I stayed up writing notes for this diary, listening to tunes,
drinking bourbon and generally chilling out.
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hat's it for now. Parts 2 and 3 coming soon.
