HEY! You can now download our ridiculously slop-metal, computer splat full length NHG album right here!!!
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=NRVLN65J
20 June 2008
NHG - BLACK PLAQUE LP
HEY! You can now download our ridiculously slop-metal, computer splat full length NHG album right here!!!
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=NRVLN65J
DUDE!
I feel like I'm going crazy, this is totally hypnotic!
But maybe that's just the 3 hours sleep (mangled by 2 cans of red bull) talking
Love you Connor!
Dunnununununcan
17 June 2008
sign on da dotted line
this is us signing with best before records on saturday. this was the point where we could all still speak in sentences..
14 June 2008
Danananaforeigner
Tour was awesome. Thanks to all the bands we played with and especially Johnny Foreigner for having us join them for a few days. Coming home is depressing, hopefully we wont need to wait too long until the next time.
Sleeping in my own bed feels like Christmas day right now, but damn it, rocking out with your best friends every night makes the pain of pushing your bodies and ears to extremes every night worth it.
Record deal signing party soon! Yay!
11 June 2008
10TH JUNE - A KIWI FRUIT IS FINE TOO
MORNONGING
I got a shower today! I even conditioned my hair (vegetarians, homosexuals and women, remember?), a brutally pointless activity when it's just going to get all tangled as soon as we start playing anyway. Maybe even at soundcheck if I feel particularly amorous towards music. We took a band trip to Tesco and all stocked up on food for the day, as we're not sure we're being fed later on. I got kiwi fruit and a bunch of other rad stuff. And plastic cutlery! Why we never thought to get cutlery before is so far beyond me that it's practically over there.
Today we're going back to London Village to play at Club Artrocker, which I believe is being held at the Buffalo Bar in Islington. I can never understand why there's a magazine called Artrocker. Every time I think of it, I visualise some seriously heavy dudes 'rocking' some real ground-zero 'art'. Those seriously heavy dudes invariably look like the members of Wolf Eyes.
LAAAATOR
We did a London again, mum. The show was really good fun, but let's talk about after it first, right? So here we are, in Colin's house, and we have the idea that we should play Grand Theft Auto IV in HD glory and 5.1 Surround Sound. So we play online and start talking to people, like 'Assasin Ant' (sic) - his name is spelled wrong on purpose because "the last three letters dude... it spells 'sin'" - and 'jake e c f c', meaning Exeter City, who lost the FA cup to Portsmouth. Colin is a Portsmouth fan. Cue amazing chat with Jakey-Boy and much goading. Turns out Jake isn't the witty type. I think I laughed a cough up and turned it into a nostril. All in all, a fantastic night filled with gunz and bombz and internet heroes - including Americans who told us about the two 9mm gunzz they owned in real life. Thanks, bro! And thanks, Colin! For being the raddest dude in the gold streets of Islington.
But anyway. What exactly is the deal with venues these days? We only seem to play places that you have to park a million lightyears away, then use our teleportation devices to get our gear inside. Last night, we dodgily parked on a pavement and whisked our brutal drumz into the Buffalo Bar. Our show was neat, but I couldn't find my voice for some reason. I think it's because I warmed up using a couple of things from the Zen Of Screaming DVD we 'got' (nudge nudge, wink wink).
Right now, Colin is playing GTA online, muttering "Scuse me, would anyone like to play internet with me?" at everyone. I think we're in the NME today, doing a human laughter all over paper magazeens. I'm not so sure, but, eh! Going to Birmingham today, maybe Johnny Foreigner will come see us and we can talk to their faces again. BIG YEAH!
I got a shower today! I even conditioned my hair (vegetarians, homosexuals and women, remember?), a brutally pointless activity when it's just going to get all tangled as soon as we start playing anyway. Maybe even at soundcheck if I feel particularly amorous towards music. We took a band trip to Tesco and all stocked up on food for the day, as we're not sure we're being fed later on. I got kiwi fruit and a bunch of other rad stuff. And plastic cutlery! Why we never thought to get cutlery before is so far beyond me that it's practically over there.
Today we're going back to London Village to play at Club Artrocker, which I believe is being held at the Buffalo Bar in Islington. I can never understand why there's a magazine called Artrocker. Every time I think of it, I visualise some seriously heavy dudes 'rocking' some real ground-zero 'art'. Those seriously heavy dudes invariably look like the members of Wolf Eyes.
LAAAATOR
We did a London again, mum. The show was really good fun, but let's talk about after it first, right? So here we are, in Colin's house, and we have the idea that we should play Grand Theft Auto IV in HD glory and 5.1 Surround Sound. So we play online and start talking to people, like 'Assasin Ant' (sic) - his name is spelled wrong on purpose because "the last three letters dude... it spells 'sin'" - and 'jake e c f c', meaning Exeter City, who lost the FA cup to Portsmouth. Colin is a Portsmouth fan. Cue amazing chat with Jakey-Boy and much goading. Turns out Jake isn't the witty type. I think I laughed a cough up and turned it into a nostril. All in all, a fantastic night filled with gunz and bombz and internet heroes - including Americans who told us about the two 9mm gunzz they owned in real life. Thanks, bro! And thanks, Colin! For being the raddest dude in the gold streets of Islington.
But anyway. What exactly is the deal with venues these days? We only seem to play places that you have to park a million lightyears away, then use our teleportation devices to get our gear inside. Last night, we dodgily parked on a pavement and whisked our brutal drumz into the Buffalo Bar. Our show was neat, but I couldn't find my voice for some reason. I think it's because I warmed up using a couple of things from the Zen Of Screaming DVD we 'got' (nudge nudge, wink wink).
Right now, Colin is playing GTA online, muttering "Scuse me, would anyone like to play internet with me?" at everyone. I think we're in the NME today, doing a human laughter all over paper magazeens. I'm not so sure, but, eh! Going to Birmingham today, maybe Johnny Foreigner will come see us and we can talk to their faces again. BIG YEAH!
10 June 2008
9TH JUNE - A HANGOVER IS FINE TOO
MORNNNGIN
Well! The show was weird - I enjoyed it (as usual), but David's guitar fell apart and his spare sounded like instant coffee, and John literally broke a cymbal stand by hitting a cymbal, broke a floor tom skin, and broke drumsticks left, right and centre. So we're on our way to 'Rock Around The Clock', some music shop.
Rolo Tomassi blew us off the big bad Barden's stage last night! They were awesome. Eva told me about this DVD called "The Zen Of Screaming" which I'll definitely have to download. I mean buy.
After the show, we went to Dalston Jazz Bar or something and got a bit silly with it. Today, some of us are a little hungover.
I have no idea where Exeter is, or how long it takes to get there, but GODDAMN, we're coming.
LATE-RON
We got David's guitar fixed for the princely sum of £1.50 (£1.50!) at Rock Around The Clock from a very nice man that looks like he's seen a thing or two on the good ol' rock circuit. A new tom skin, drumsticks, plectrums, guitar strings and strap locks were purchased too. The van was pure murder to be in for a while, due to a little hangover all over some faces, but we stopped at a really crap service station and got some food.
Service stations are weird little places, like microcosms of the worst world ever. Some of them are these empty, soulless places with over-priced wet sandwiches and strange people with strange accents, but some (like Westmorland in Cumbria) are amazing delights where you can get any manner of awesome organic foods. Which is perfect for us, seeing as we're comprised almost exclusively of vegetarians, homosexuals and women.
So we arrived in Exeter. Exeter is a really lovely looking place, all leaf-green and hayfever-inducing. After soundcheck at The Cavern (where we had the best on-stage sound I have ever experienced), and having dinner thanks to the fantastic bar dude, we had a short wander - it took about one minute of walking before we found ourselves outside a fucking cathedral. Amazing. Had a pint of some Cornish lager that had a monk surfing on the tap. BRUTAL.
There was barely anyone at our show, which kind of freaked me out a little. It was kind of nice, though - we got to play a bit more experimentally. John joined me with his microphone for things we haven't tried before, and there were a lot of drum things going on. I got to test exactly how ridiculous my voice can be. All in all, a really strangely fun show!
The guy that put on the show wasn't there (and, as far as I could tell, wasn't planning on attending), so it was left to the bar staff to find us somewhere to stay. Luckily, the night's DJs, Tom and Madeleine, threw us a bag completely rammed with hospitality, and let our gang of seven sleep in their house. So, thanks guys!
Well! The show was weird - I enjoyed it (as usual), but David's guitar fell apart and his spare sounded like instant coffee, and John literally broke a cymbal stand by hitting a cymbal, broke a floor tom skin, and broke drumsticks left, right and centre. So we're on our way to 'Rock Around The Clock', some music shop.
Rolo Tomassi blew us off the big bad Barden's stage last night! They were awesome. Eva told me about this DVD called "The Zen Of Screaming" which I'll definitely have to download. I mean buy.
After the show, we went to Dalston Jazz Bar or something and got a bit silly with it. Today, some of us are a little hungover.
I have no idea where Exeter is, or how long it takes to get there, but GODDAMN, we're coming.
LATE-RON
We got David's guitar fixed for the princely sum of £1.50 (£1.50!) at Rock Around The Clock from a very nice man that looks like he's seen a thing or two on the good ol' rock circuit. A new tom skin, drumsticks, plectrums, guitar strings and strap locks were purchased too. The van was pure murder to be in for a while, due to a little hangover all over some faces, but we stopped at a really crap service station and got some food.
Service stations are weird little places, like microcosms of the worst world ever. Some of them are these empty, soulless places with over-priced wet sandwiches and strange people with strange accents, but some (like Westmorland in Cumbria) are amazing delights where you can get any manner of awesome organic foods. Which is perfect for us, seeing as we're comprised almost exclusively of vegetarians, homosexuals and women.
So we arrived in Exeter. Exeter is a really lovely looking place, all leaf-green and hayfever-inducing. After soundcheck at The Cavern (where we had the best on-stage sound I have ever experienced), and having dinner thanks to the fantastic bar dude, we had a short wander - it took about one minute of walking before we found ourselves outside a fucking cathedral. Amazing. Had a pint of some Cornish lager that had a monk surfing on the tap. BRUTAL.
There was barely anyone at our show, which kind of freaked me out a little. It was kind of nice, though - we got to play a bit more experimentally. John joined me with his microphone for things we haven't tried before, and there were a lot of drum things going on. I got to test exactly how ridiculous my voice can be. All in all, a really strangely fun show!
The guy that put on the show wasn't there (and, as far as I could tell, wasn't planning on attending), so it was left to the bar staff to find us somewhere to stay. Luckily, the night's DJs, Tom and Madeleine, threw us a bag completely rammed with hospitality, and let our gang of seven sleep in their house. So, thanks guys!
8TH JUNE - A PEE IS FINE TOO
MORNING?!
Had a nice couple of days in sunny (seriously) Glasgow. John and David are in London already, John having been DJing last night and David having stayed with his sister, so the rest of our fair crew are party-vanning down the M6 like nobody's business. I've already watched the second half of Boogie Nights - I've only ever seen the first half, so it was nice to close that particularly raunchy chapter of my life. OUR STUFF'S THAT GOOD. Now listening to the new Venetian Snares record, 'Detrimentalist', really loudly. It's fucking awesome. No more 'Young Machetes' this week, I guess!
Duncan's gone and bought the entire internet. Well, a wee USB stick that makes HTML fly into our van out of the air like dead birds. That means I can post this crap on-the-fly. What a day!
Tonight we're having a record release party for Sissy Hits, and Rolo Tomassi are playing! I'm scared they're going to throw us over their laps and spank us. Those guys are going to be world famous times a million or something, I can't wait to see them. Also, I predict that John will shout at me for wearing a Misfits t-shirt. FUUUUCK.
POST-SOUNDCHECKIN'~
John didn't shout at me. Another load-in from a serious mile away, around corners and all things. This band, Baddies, are soundchecking. My brain is rejecting, I don't understand it. We're all in good spirits, doing a lot of running around, throwing things, and screaming. Rolo Tomassi are great and asked us to do a tour with them later in the year, which would be rad! Mike Diver from Drowned In Sound turned up and we finally got to shout "Holy Diver" at him. He says he's used to it. We don't care.
We get some drinks tokens (waaaaagh) and amazing veggie food (yaaaaaay) including quiche! I totally forgot about quiche, and will now be eating quiche every day in Glasgow.
Had a nice couple of days in sunny (seriously) Glasgow. John and David are in London already, John having been DJing last night and David having stayed with his sister, so the rest of our fair crew are party-vanning down the M6 like nobody's business. I've already watched the second half of Boogie Nights - I've only ever seen the first half, so it was nice to close that particularly raunchy chapter of my life. OUR STUFF'S THAT GOOD. Now listening to the new Venetian Snares record, 'Detrimentalist', really loudly. It's fucking awesome. No more 'Young Machetes' this week, I guess!
Duncan's gone and bought the entire internet. Well, a wee USB stick that makes HTML fly into our van out of the air like dead birds. That means I can post this crap on-the-fly. What a day!
Tonight we're having a record release party for Sissy Hits, and Rolo Tomassi are playing! I'm scared they're going to throw us over their laps and spank us. Those guys are going to be world famous times a million or something, I can't wait to see them. Also, I predict that John will shout at me for wearing a Misfits t-shirt. FUUUUCK.
POST-SOUNDCHECKIN'~
John didn't shout at me. Another load-in from a serious mile away, around corners and all things. This band, Baddies, are soundchecking. My brain is rejecting, I don't understand it. We're all in good spirits, doing a lot of running around, throwing things, and screaming. Rolo Tomassi are great and asked us to do a tour with them later in the year, which would be rad! Mike Diver from Drowned In Sound turned up and we finally got to shout "Holy Diver" at him. He says he's used to it. We don't care.
We get some drinks tokens (waaaaagh) and amazing veggie food (yaaaaaay) including quiche! I totally forgot about quiche, and will now be eating quiche every day in Glasgow.
07 June 2008
5TH JUNE - A LOAD-IN IS FINE TOO
MORNING|
Had a radical time last night, hanging outside with JoFo and the vans. David was being an amazing idiot, picking up ladders and hitting things on the wall. You know?
The stage was, again, bastard hot, and the crowd were at least vaguely up for it. Didn't get to see much of JoFo, as John, Duncan and I were staying at John's sister's lovely house. Her new son, Oliver, is a great wee guy.
Slept in a bed (!!) in a hot room, and even had a shower (!!!!!) because my hair stank like the next apocalypse. Today we're setting off to LDN (London), to do this strange thing on Brick Lane somewhere. Then we're playing our last show with JoFo at Proud, in Camden. So soon? Awwww.
LAT'R ON
So we did this weird interview-y thing... Basically, this advertising company (who are apparently a big deal?) are doing a new Nokia campaign based on the phone's music capabilities, and wanted to get an impression of what bands and promoters or whoever have to say about music, touring, and all that sort of thing. To get to the core of music in a digital age. LOL? So, we turned up to what I can only describe as Nathan Barley's office (but probably a whole lot nicer and not actually anything like Nathan Barley's office), and talked to some really rather nice people about being in a band and our philosophies about everything musical. They played a couple of tracks from Sissy Hits over the worst stereo ever, which was faintly embarrassing.
Oh no way guys! We got four Ks (out of five) in Kerrang, too. That made me feel pretty neat. I always wanted to be in Kerrang. We wandered around the Rough Trade shop, looking at expensive rad records. Being in a band makes you skint. Talked to Sinead (again) for half an hour and got a hot ear on the phone.
We're trying to find somewhere to load our gear in to the weird place Proud. I think they're still making the building be a building. Doesn't bode well...
DIDN'T WRITE ANY MORE TIL I GOT TO GLASGOW OKAY?
Spent a fun time with Alexei shouting at promoters and whoever, trying to get a couple of beers (and gin for JoFo). It was fucking hilarious. No soundcheck, but I didn't care. Who needs that shit when yr a fuck'n punkk? Sid Vicious was all over the walls of that weird venue. I was immediately sick of the Sex Pistols for life.
Anthony (head of Best Before, JoFo's label) took us for a drink and eat. Much fun ensues as bad people continue to be completely unhelpful with regards to gear and beer. My younger sister turns up, which is nice!
Tubelord play and are excellent. I missed Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man as I was talking to the aforementioned sibling. We play, and go down well and have fun, I run about, everyone smiles, etc etc etc... John got his eye slammed open mercilessly by, of all things, the screw bit off of his hi-hat clutch. It was bleeding hardcore (That's not 'bleeding' as in 'very', that's as in 'blood'). Intermission - HOLY SHIT I HAVE PINS AND NEEDLES IN MY ENTIRE LEG. IF I WALK ANYWHERE RIGHT NOW I WILL MISS THE FLOOR AND FALL OVER GIGGLING.
After we play, I man our merch bit and sell a hundred thousand copies of Sissy Hits to ten million people with hands covered in money. So, thanks to the 20 people that bought our rock record!
JoFo were seriously fo' shizzle great, but all problems in life invariably lead back to crap promoters or venue staff - an encore was just about to happen when Mr. Volume decided to invite Mr. V. Loud House Music to the party, in an effort to quash those plans. My advice is that noone should play at Proud. It was fun, though!
Post-show, we cart our gear an absurdly long distance to the van, drop John, Duncan and David off at the 'Gay Mansion' (Joe from Cleckhuddersfax' house) and begin to ascend the length of our wonderful nation, bless it's very heart. I woke myself up singing 'Giant Swan'. I cannot stop listening to Young Machetes. Oh, but the new Venetian Snares album leaked! So that'll be on for the next jaunt.
Oh yeah! I finished the NHG record. It's called 'Black Plaque'. Fuck you!
Bye! See you next week, suckaaasss!
Had a radical time last night, hanging outside with JoFo and the vans. David was being an amazing idiot, picking up ladders and hitting things on the wall. You know?
The stage was, again, bastard hot, and the crowd were at least vaguely up for it. Didn't get to see much of JoFo, as John, Duncan and I were staying at John's sister's lovely house. Her new son, Oliver, is a great wee guy.
Slept in a bed (!!) in a hot room, and even had a shower (!!!!!) because my hair stank like the next apocalypse. Today we're setting off to LDN (London), to do this strange thing on Brick Lane somewhere. Then we're playing our last show with JoFo at Proud, in Camden. So soon? Awwww.
LAT'R ON
So we did this weird interview-y thing... Basically, this advertising company (who are apparently a big deal?) are doing a new Nokia campaign based on the phone's music capabilities, and wanted to get an impression of what bands and promoters or whoever have to say about music, touring, and all that sort of thing. To get to the core of music in a digital age. LOL? So, we turned up to what I can only describe as Nathan Barley's office (but probably a whole lot nicer and not actually anything like Nathan Barley's office), and talked to some really rather nice people about being in a band and our philosophies about everything musical. They played a couple of tracks from Sissy Hits over the worst stereo ever, which was faintly embarrassing.
Oh no way guys! We got four Ks (out of five) in Kerrang, too. That made me feel pretty neat. I always wanted to be in Kerrang. We wandered around the Rough Trade shop, looking at expensive rad records. Being in a band makes you skint. Talked to Sinead (again) for half an hour and got a hot ear on the phone.
We're trying to find somewhere to load our gear in to the weird place Proud. I think they're still making the building be a building. Doesn't bode well...
DIDN'T WRITE ANY MORE TIL I GOT TO GLASGOW OKAY?
Spent a fun time with Alexei shouting at promoters and whoever, trying to get a couple of beers (and gin for JoFo). It was fucking hilarious. No soundcheck, but I didn't care. Who needs that shit when yr a fuck'n punkk? Sid Vicious was all over the walls of that weird venue. I was immediately sick of the Sex Pistols for life.
Anthony (head of Best Before, JoFo's label) took us for a drink and eat. Much fun ensues as bad people continue to be completely unhelpful with regards to gear and beer. My younger sister turns up, which is nice!
Tubelord play and are excellent. I missed Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man as I was talking to the aforementioned sibling. We play, and go down well and have fun, I run about, everyone smiles, etc etc etc... John got his eye slammed open mercilessly by, of all things, the screw bit off of his hi-hat clutch. It was bleeding hardcore (That's not 'bleeding' as in 'very', that's as in 'blood'). Intermission - HOLY SHIT I HAVE PINS AND NEEDLES IN MY ENTIRE LEG. IF I WALK ANYWHERE RIGHT NOW I WILL MISS THE FLOOR AND FALL OVER GIGGLING.
After we play, I man our merch bit and sell a hundred thousand copies of Sissy Hits to ten million people with hands covered in money. So, thanks to the 20 people that bought our rock record!
JoFo were seriously fo' shizzle great, but all problems in life invariably lead back to crap promoters or venue staff - an encore was just about to happen when Mr. Volume decided to invite Mr. V. Loud House Music to the party, in an effort to quash those plans. My advice is that noone should play at Proud. It was fun, though!
Post-show, we cart our gear an absurdly long distance to the van, drop John, Duncan and David off at the 'Gay Mansion' (Joe from Cleckhuddersfax' house) and begin to ascend the length of our wonderful nation, bless it's very heart. I woke myself up singing 'Giant Swan'. I cannot stop listening to Young Machetes. Oh, but the new Venetian Snares album leaked! So that'll be on for the next jaunt.
Oh yeah! I finished the NHG record. It's called 'Black Plaque'. Fuck you!
Bye! See you next week, suckaaasss!
4TH JUNE - A BODY IS FINE TOO
MORNING OR THEREABOUTS"
Helped out with JoFo's merch for a bit last night, which was fun, then headed over to the ever-helpful Joel's house, where I was a bit drunk. I slept at a million 90-degree angles and watched Beverley Hills Cop. Shit, Axel F is the MAN.
Woke up with a huge throat, lumpy head, bad rib, and terrible back. Laura declared that she had a dream in which Duncan was hugely chauvinistic and gloating about sex. "What a guy!" I screamed. We watched Trisha for a short while, Laura wanted very badly to find out whose Dad was whose or something, and left for Leicester. I find myself without a hangover, possibly due to huge amounts of excitement. I'm like a child.
BIT LATER ON WHEN WE'VE LOADED IN, RIGHT?
Today has been an tarmac cover version of the Rainbow Road track from nearly every iteration of Mario Kart. A huge big line of grey that only Sat Nav units can truly measure. Wasn't bad, though. Watched Tim And Eric Awesome Show Great Job (which, if you haven't seen it, is the funniest, best thing ever, even after a million viewings) and then listened to The Blood Brothers' 'Young Machetes', which is the best album I can think of sometimes. Being away with the band is kind of like being at home with your clothes on, except you're moving (in my case, backwards) and you're with your best friends.
Our EP got 8/10 in the "NME". I seem to remember being told that they didn't like us anymore, so that was a pleasant surprise. I got called a "man-tornado". Informed Sinead via the magic of telecommunication that she is a "lady-typhoon".
Sumo in Leicester seems like a nice place to play. I hope the show is busy, and that the Berocca I'm about to drink sooths my throat back to it's normal size. Then, and only then will I be able to truly scale the heights of my very limited vocal range. I should definitely warm up before we play, and do a lot more stretching. And sleep more good, yeah? Five crunched-out hours isn't the best for a growing lad's body.
Can't tell if my ears are ringing (Young Machetes was LOUD) or if there's a dull hum in this cold, weird dressing room. There's ham in the fridge that looks like the seed of a new way of life.
AFTER SOUNDCHECKKERR
This is how it works:
a) Three hours for five bands to play or something? What?
3) Promoters will take a long time to feed you when you are at your hungriest.
$) Promoters are always hiding from you.
Helped out with JoFo's merch for a bit last night, which was fun, then headed over to the ever-helpful Joel's house, where I was a bit drunk. I slept at a million 90-degree angles and watched Beverley Hills Cop. Shit, Axel F is the MAN.
Woke up with a huge throat, lumpy head, bad rib, and terrible back. Laura declared that she had a dream in which Duncan was hugely chauvinistic and gloating about sex. "What a guy!" I screamed. We watched Trisha for a short while, Laura wanted very badly to find out whose Dad was whose or something, and left for Leicester. I find myself without a hangover, possibly due to huge amounts of excitement. I'm like a child.
BIT LATER ON WHEN WE'VE LOADED IN, RIGHT?
Today has been an tarmac cover version of the Rainbow Road track from nearly every iteration of Mario Kart. A huge big line of grey that only Sat Nav units can truly measure. Wasn't bad, though. Watched Tim And Eric Awesome Show Great Job (which, if you haven't seen it, is the funniest, best thing ever, even after a million viewings) and then listened to The Blood Brothers' 'Young Machetes', which is the best album I can think of sometimes. Being away with the band is kind of like being at home with your clothes on, except you're moving (in my case, backwards) and you're with your best friends.
Our EP got 8/10 in the "NME". I seem to remember being told that they didn't like us anymore, so that was a pleasant surprise. I got called a "man-tornado". Informed Sinead via the magic of telecommunication that she is a "lady-typhoon".
Sumo in Leicester seems like a nice place to play. I hope the show is busy, and that the Berocca I'm about to drink sooths my throat back to it's normal size. Then, and only then will I be able to truly scale the heights of my very limited vocal range. I should definitely warm up before we play, and do a lot more stretching. And sleep more good, yeah? Five crunched-out hours isn't the best for a growing lad's body.
Can't tell if my ears are ringing (Young Machetes was LOUD) or if there's a dull hum in this cold, weird dressing room. There's ham in the fridge that looks like the seed of a new way of life.
AFTER SOUNDCHECKKERR
This is how it works:
a) Three hours for five bands to play or something? What?
3) Promoters will take a long time to feed you when you are at your hungriest.
$) Promoters are always hiding from you.
3RD JUNE - A VAN IS FINE TOO
Calum is keeping some kind of tour diary. He's going to post it on this thing. Starting now.
MORNING>
We're on our way to Newcastle to play our first of three shows with Johnny Foreigner and Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man, part way through their tour, in the best van we have ever had the courage to lay our eyes on. There's a fucking TABLE. And ELECTRICITY. That you can PLUG IN to. I took advantage of the latter by making a couple of things for the as-yet-unfinished NHG record - I'll hopefully have it finished by the time we get back to Glasgow, so the kids can use their browsers and html things and download it.
I have no money until Thursday, due to lying banks and cheques. Who uses cheques these days? When I have no money, it makes me hungry. I'm praying to anyone's God that there's some kind of rider. Or a sandwich made of eagles. Anything. I can't "rock" on an empty stomach, you know.
EVENING?
Got to Newcastle's The Cluny and watched Johnny Foreigner (from here-on known as "JoFo"? Is that okay please?) soundcheck. Had a hard time telling whether or not my ears are ruined from countless full-volume headphone rocking sessions. John and James had a mini-breakdown - their hi-hat stands have been transformed from hi-hat stands into miniature pieces of a broken clown shoe or something. We're down a footplate for one (HOW?!? JUST... HOW?!?!?), but Junior from JoFo is rad enough to let us use his. And his kit. Rad!
The stage in this place is the hottest place I have ever endured. Even soundcheck was destroying. The sound guy told me not to "cup the mic", which I believe is the standard emo-hardcore-screamo way. I've been meaning to stop doing that for a while, so I mutter something idiotic about having "done gigs before", and take his advice.
After a nice soundcheck where I got excited about playing music, we sat around in our awesome van (at this point I'd like to thank our driver guy Scott - his mum knows mine!) with Alexei, who I immediately like. We find out that we can order some free food from the bar. I plump for a Greek Mezze, and read a bad review of our EP, Sissy Hits, which propels a serious LOL from the mouths of the Naykroyds. We're crying inside though. WHY MAN, WHY?!?!?
NIGHTTIME:
I was a bit drunk when I wrote this bit. Self-editing is probably necessary.
I really enjoyed our show in the epicentre of Newcastle's sweatbox, but I guess I enjoy all of our shows. David, Duncan and I spent a lot of time off the stage, which always results in radical carnage. I hit myself in the head with my microphone, on purpose, at the climax of The Greater Than Symbol And The Hash. It didn't hurt at the time, but it sure fucking hurts now. There's a idiot lump on my scalp. Rock music can be dangerous, maaaaan. I guess I've listened to too much hardcore recently, which I can attribute to Sinead's influence.
JoFo were fantastic. That's the first time I've seen them play. Looking forward already to tomorrow's show - JoFo are great fun to be around (GUSH, GUSH, GUSH) and I wish we could tour forever (OH, ~GUSHHHHH).
MORNING>
We're on our way to Newcastle to play our first of three shows with Johnny Foreigner and Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man, part way through their tour, in the best van we have ever had the courage to lay our eyes on. There's a fucking TABLE. And ELECTRICITY. That you can PLUG IN to. I took advantage of the latter by making a couple of things for the as-yet-unfinished NHG record - I'll hopefully have it finished by the time we get back to Glasgow, so the kids can use their browsers and html things and download it.
I have no money until Thursday, due to lying banks and cheques. Who uses cheques these days? When I have no money, it makes me hungry. I'm praying to anyone's God that there's some kind of rider. Or a sandwich made of eagles. Anything. I can't "rock" on an empty stomach, you know.
EVENING?
Got to Newcastle's The Cluny and watched Johnny Foreigner (from here-on known as "JoFo"? Is that okay please?) soundcheck. Had a hard time telling whether or not my ears are ruined from countless full-volume headphone rocking sessions. John and James had a mini-breakdown - their hi-hat stands have been transformed from hi-hat stands into miniature pieces of a broken clown shoe or something. We're down a footplate for one (HOW?!? JUST... HOW?!?!?), but Junior from JoFo is rad enough to let us use his. And his kit. Rad!
The stage in this place is the hottest place I have ever endured. Even soundcheck was destroying. The sound guy told me not to "cup the mic", which I believe is the standard emo-hardcore-screamo way. I've been meaning to stop doing that for a while, so I mutter something idiotic about having "done gigs before", and take his advice.
After a nice soundcheck where I got excited about playing music, we sat around in our awesome van (at this point I'd like to thank our driver guy Scott - his mum knows mine!) with Alexei, who I immediately like. We find out that we can order some free food from the bar. I plump for a Greek Mezze, and read a bad review of our EP, Sissy Hits, which propels a serious LOL from the mouths of the Naykroyds. We're crying inside though. WHY MAN, WHY?!?!?
NIGHTTIME:
I was a bit drunk when I wrote this bit. Self-editing is probably necessary.
I really enjoyed our show in the epicentre of Newcastle's sweatbox, but I guess I enjoy all of our shows. David, Duncan and I spent a lot of time off the stage, which always results in radical carnage. I hit myself in the head with my microphone, on purpose, at the climax of The Greater Than Symbol And The Hash. It didn't hurt at the time, but it sure fucking hurts now. There's a idiot lump on my scalp. Rock music can be dangerous, maaaaan. I guess I've listened to too much hardcore recently, which I can attribute to Sinead's influence.
JoFo were fantastic. That's the first time I've seen them play. Looking forward already to tomorrow's show - JoFo are great fun to be around (GUSH, GUSH, GUSH) and I wish we could tour forever (OH, ~GUSHHHHH).
06 June 2008
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