Well, I'm back from the show.
Thanks to anyone who made it along. The Underworld was a lot of fun.
Here's a recap:
The day starts off early in the am, and the coach is 30 mins late after the driver goes missing. Apparently he left his house to come to work, and never showed up. To my knowledge, no-one has yet figured out what happened to him. The coach company send another driver.
We finally get on the road but are again delayed coming into Cardiff because of the rugby. Goo (who booked the coach) being a genius, made allowances for lateness, so we're technically still on time, more or less.
The fans we pick up are in high spirits, having mostly already been drinking all morning. The rest of the journey is generally fun if uneventful, except for a stop in a services, where we saw this guy walking round with a hands free, apparently doing phone sex.
And we weren't the only ones to notice, either. I mean, here's this john, walking around, buying things from the coffee shop and the newsagents, talking aloud, saying stuff like "ooo... you're a dirty girl... you're lovely... gimmie a kiss". Like, everyone was sniggering watching this guy walking around doing it. Credit to him, keeping a straight face and probably getting paid for it. Unless... that was actually serious...
Anyhoo, everyone knows soundcheck is boring, and I can't well describe the gig itself properly. I mean, if you want to see it, come to a show, y'know? Suffice to say it was awesome. Nothing major went wrong, the crowd "dug it", man, and that was that. Nice dressing room with a big ol' leather sofa I made a home of, being all anti-social an all.
The barmaid at the Underworld (mohawk, awesome heartbeat tattoo, and a couple on her back, one of which said something bur I couldn't quite read it in the light), anyway, the barmaid should probably be on this site somewhere. Not that I'm typecasting what it is to be "a SuicideGirl", as the girls are all very individual, but you get my drift. Point is, she was beautiful and she made paying hand over fist over arse for a drink a little easier to stomach.
The journey home was long, and getting the stuff out of the club was annoying. Usually, we'd have come back at midday the day after, but we had to leave London at 1am, which - because the management wouldn't open a fire escape for 10 minutes - meant us having to cart all our equipment through an entire nightclub full of people. Being all pissed off and such, I literally ploughed my way through everyone, shoulder barging people out of the way with half a stack, my guitar and gig bag on my back. So, if I hurt anyone who might read this, well, too bad you were in the way, eh?
Anyway, it was a great night all told. Except for when we got home to find some fuck had put a rock through Mondo's car window. Didn't even steal anything. Just vandalism. He's pretty pissed off.
There are some pics, courtesy of George "Fooey Poo" Whittaker, in my Pics folder. Plus, there'll be some more from Mick and possibly some video footage from Dave Saunders.
Ok, that's enough.
Thanks to anyone who made it along. The Underworld was a lot of fun.
Here's a recap:
The day starts off early in the am, and the coach is 30 mins late after the driver goes missing. Apparently he left his house to come to work, and never showed up. To my knowledge, no-one has yet figured out what happened to him. The coach company send another driver.
We finally get on the road but are again delayed coming into Cardiff because of the rugby. Goo (who booked the coach) being a genius, made allowances for lateness, so we're technically still on time, more or less.
The fans we pick up are in high spirits, having mostly already been drinking all morning. The rest of the journey is generally fun if uneventful, except for a stop in a services, where we saw this guy walking round with a hands free, apparently doing phone sex.
And we weren't the only ones to notice, either. I mean, here's this john, walking around, buying things from the coffee shop and the newsagents, talking aloud, saying stuff like "ooo... you're a dirty girl... you're lovely... gimmie a kiss". Like, everyone was sniggering watching this guy walking around doing it. Credit to him, keeping a straight face and probably getting paid for it. Unless... that was actually serious...
Anyhoo, everyone knows soundcheck is boring, and I can't well describe the gig itself properly. I mean, if you want to see it, come to a show, y'know? Suffice to say it was awesome. Nothing major went wrong, the crowd "dug it", man, and that was that. Nice dressing room with a big ol' leather sofa I made a home of, being all anti-social an all.
The barmaid at the Underworld (mohawk, awesome heartbeat tattoo, and a couple on her back, one of which said something bur I couldn't quite read it in the light), anyway, the barmaid should probably be on this site somewhere. Not that I'm typecasting what it is to be "a SuicideGirl", as the girls are all very individual, but you get my drift. Point is, she was beautiful and she made paying hand over fist over arse for a drink a little easier to stomach.
The journey home was long, and getting the stuff out of the club was annoying. Usually, we'd have come back at midday the day after, but we had to leave London at 1am, which - because the management wouldn't open a fire escape for 10 minutes - meant us having to cart all our equipment through an entire nightclub full of people. Being all pissed off and such, I literally ploughed my way through everyone, shoulder barging people out of the way with half a stack, my guitar and gig bag on my back. So, if I hurt anyone who might read this, well, too bad you were in the way, eh?
Anyway, it was a great night all told. Except for when we got home to find some fuck had put a rock through Mondo's car window. Didn't even steal anything. Just vandalism. He's pretty pissed off.
There are some pics, courtesy of George "Fooey Poo" Whittaker, in my Pics folder. Plus, there'll be some more from Mick and possibly some video footage from Dave Saunders.
Ok, that's enough.
I always feel pretty bad for my friends, who have bands, at the end of the shows. The last thing that I would want to do, is to lug all of my shit out after a show. It's paying dues, I guess.
Slainte!
Lo-