Monday, September 27, 2010

Blog posts from 2007 Euro tour pt. 2


Whatever day it was, 2007.
Lyon, France.
Woke up to some fuckers snoring. Again. Like everyday. This time the snoring was in French and was emanating from unnamed member of the opening band. Around 7:45 am, one of the other dudes woke up, lit a cigarette and filled the room with smoke for the other 9 of us. The snoring got even more blower at this juncture.
So, we eat, do laundry, try to load the van and leave when a groupof düdes walk up asking us stuff in French. We do not know this language. The slap on these bright orange police arm bands and tell us in broken English to give them our passports as they begin a quick search of the van. I continued to match my socks on the sidewalk and put them in my suitcase. I have a small compulsion to match my socks and put them away sometime, especially on tour when socks mean so much to me.
The pat downs began, they opened all my pockets and touched all my items, made jealous faces at my wad of Euro dollar band money, and put hands on and around my penis location area. French police may be the least scary of all the world's police forces. At least Canadian mounties ride horses. These guys didn't even have a car, they were on foot.
Towards the end of this harassment, everybody from the squat came to the door to see what was going on and the cop by the door saw about 15 people staring at him and pulled out his police stick. Timo dogged them the whole time, asking what we had done, to which they eventually answered that they didn't have to tell us. Sissies. Then they left and then we left and my socks were in proper order.
St Etienne, France
The return to the Elephant Pub, sight of a majestic evening last spring featuring Orange Sunshine, Roger Moore, and us. What an event that was. This time was better, we played with a punk band and what was called a "cold wave" band. This turned out to be 2 düdes playing drums and keyboards, sounding like the Mob or maybe New Model Army.
We were mainly excited to see our friends from last year and they came through, as well as a few of the people from the squat in Lyon. The food was good, the show was going well until we tried to set up and realized that the other band had accidentally taken one of our drums. This made a short delay and then we played to a receptive, but dwindling crowd with an abnormal amount of females. I liked this though.
But after the gig, we made to Befa's flat/building. Since we had last been there, they had moved friends into all of the reamining apartments in the building and effectively had the whole building to do as they pleased. Nice. Waiting for us when we got there was a giant pot of vegan beef stew with potatoes. Fuckers. It was a great night.

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Lyon, France
The place: a lovely 3 story squatted complex covering hundreds of thousands of square feet. The power is drawn from the streetlights, so we had to wait until after 6pm when the lights came on to get lights and power inside. But there was so much food and it was an ambitious assortment. Vegan spring rolls, salads, 2 different apple pie things, lentil stuff, rice stuff, I lost track and ate. Then they began with the carafes of beer, which was something new. We spent the evening drinking out of little plastic cups and refilling them from carafes of the coldest and best tasting French beer yet. There was no way of keeping track.
The opening band played as long as humanly possible. The second band was better and not as drawn out. Still, we were not in such good shape by playing time. The set started out a bit slow and shaky, but worked itself out. By the end we had been coerced into playing our longest set ever. 17 songs. Thats what you get when your drunk ass keeps asking for more. You get our drunk ass. They seemed to enjoy this racket.
Everyone was happy and drunk. As soon as we had finished, a dance party started lead by reggae, The Pixies, and a suprisingly good Gossip record. The Americans were barely able to function after another hour or so and we kept bumping into each other in random halls and rooms, confused. Then we all found ourselves in the kitchen again upstairs, shoveling food like lonely college freshmen. Fat asses. Then someone took my sleeping bag and I had to get one of our French speaking hosts to retrieve it and avoid trouble. A similar thing happened to Brett last year in another French town when 2 men took his sleeping bag and were sleeping in it in the corner of the room. He, however, did not have the benefit of a translator and the results were scary and/or amusing. So, we slept. And it was cold.

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are you going to fall asleep watching cable?

Germany. beer. boredom. sickness. curry chick peas and potatoes. cigarettes. snot. diapers. no interest in sex. books. cats. cats. cats. sleeping bag. blank. people. noises. fun. punks. beer. liquor. no skateboard. no snow. not cold. no sleeves. no sleep. Im not going to bed. Tomorrow, we visit Dachau and then play Munich.

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February 21, 2007 - Wednesday

Future repulsion
Category: Pets and Animals

Living more is sometimes repulsive and the idea of it is the makings of dread. The many decisions. Too much future pain and deaths and dying and failure and disappointment. Dealings with the ignorant and the illogical, the cruel and the self righteous. The bigots, pigs, shit heads, addicts, assholes, thugs, rapists. All the unpleasant and offensive, primitive, immature asses. And their victims. The broken bones, car crashes, plane crashes, cancers, suicides, murders, quiet suffering and torture. The future wars, those that fight in them, those that die in them, and those that get caught in the middle of them. And all the good moods turned sour, with or without reason. And the day when I can pet cats no longer.

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Category: News and Politics

Besancon, France
All morning with the sickness and the mid level nausea. So disappointed with myself. I kept my head down until we drove into Besancon. A beautiful city, reminded me of Edinburgh a bit just less dark. We had time to walk around a bit, across a little bridge where there was a guy playing an accordian, and it was all very European. Found the good throat lozenges with the lidocaine in them that actually work. Found a Righteous Pigs 7" old enough that it pressed in West Germany.
Played with 2 French bands in an ashtray, underneath an ashtray, under a heating lamp. I became slightly claustrophobic because there was a low ceiling in the basement, it was packed full of people, it was hot and there was a severe shortage of oxygen. All of these things were troubling and overwhelming, psychically and physically. It felt like tight diapers.
The French bands played as long as they could I think. I don't know how they could have known any more songs. There was even a 7 Seconds and a Black Flag cover.
I played sober and without glasses, unable to see or breathe very well. Eventually, I gave into the heat and removed my shirt, regardless of fat gut quality. I hope no one got pictures of this beaching. At the end of the set, we cut things short because Troi broke a string, and we were being shouted at to play more. A girl called out in a thick accent, "lets see the drummer naked!", to which Greg replied by climbing on his drum stool and beginning to remove his pants. At some point, he must have realized the potential repercussions of pants removal and the smell therein, and he pulled his pants back up. During this also, another voice yelled in the most broken of English "the singer naked!". It was a ladies' voice, but I did not look to see who it had come from, because I have no lady in France that I am aware of, and thus, this was a stranger to be avoided.
The drinking lasted well into the night, and later I slipped out to sleep in the van. When it is cold out the van is nice. Next: Lyon.

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Transcripts of the Broke and Unknown
Category: News and Politics

Reims, France
We play a squat that the cops were in the process of shutting down, but the people there were going to do our show as their last before leaving. The power had already been cut, so we understood why we had seen them wheeling out a generator when we drove in. There was enough power for the amps and PA but only so much for the lights, we spent the whole evening with a few dim lights and many candles. Many beers.
The first band consisted of a balding guy in his 40's playing guitar while wearing a blonde long hair wig/trucker hat, a guy singing in a flowered dress, and another dude in his 30's wearing sun glasses and sitting on a drum stool holding sticks. Their set began with a programmed drum/rhythm guitar track coming through the PA, and the guy on the stool playing air drums, blast beats included. He also did death metal vocals throughout the set, while the guitarist played leads continuously through every song. The singer jumped up and down a lot. It was something. The third band sounded enough like Discordance Axis that maybe a case could be made that they were plagiarizing their entire existence. But many bands do this, and it could be worse than sounding like a clone of Disco Axis. We got around to playing, and at the end of the set more songs were requested, but I said we would need more drinks first, hoping for a beer. What I got was cognac, and then we played more songs. This was the first of two French nights that involved cognac. During the playing of songs, I was assaulted by humans that picked me up above them. When they were done with this, the picked up Troi. After this, they made an attempt to pick up Brett, but he proved too heavy and he was dropped, breaking a part of his bass. Its all fun and games until someone fucks up.

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February 14, 2007 - Wednesday

Transcripts of the lifestyles of the broke and unknown
Category: News and Politics

Where were we? All of the Toilet paper in Lille, France is pink? Apparently this is a popular color as we have seen much of it across France. I think it is a reassuring color to rub on such a sensitive spot as the human anus.
After the show in Rouen with Youssof Today, we went to a sleeping place but not before stopping and having British Matt buy 3 cases of beer. We made our best attempt to overcome 72 beers, but there were still 18 left in the morning. Somebody was snorting heroin somewhere and I was glad to not have been there. Then I found out that the french deoderant I bought for .85 Euros, was actually better at its job than anything I had used prior. Thank you French Sav A Lot.
Somewhere on the drive we stopped for making piss aand the bathroom smelled so foul that I though to myself, "what the fuck? this shit stinks in here". I opened the first available stall, and scrawled on the wall in perfect English: this place smells like hooker pussy . How crass and how wrong. This place smelled like the inside of human anus. Plus piss.
Cannot locate falafel.
Amiens, France @ Le Grand Wazoo
This was the first of the cognac nights. These fuckers are crazy with the shit. The place was prety great though with some of the best art I've seen in a bathroom ever. We were properly fucked up by the time we played and ended up playing Champagne pts 1-3 and also Juice pts 1&2. I slept in the back of a very nice flat but had bizarro dreams that kept me waking up. Fortunately, I have forgotten them.
We left for Paris, dropped off Matt, and listened to Copkiller. Further along the drive we happened upon the words "FUCK COPS" sprayed up about 30 ft long on a wall next to the highway.
Then Paris. We finally found parking and left Timo to have a nap. Walked for an hour and managed to see the big tower that is to be seen. It was big and fun to look at and stand under and the weather was cold enough that I was happy. We took pictures with the anti terror dudes strolling around carrying machine guns. I took a picture with a rhino. Then we had to go.
I'm tired. Next, we'll talk about Reims and the squat with no power but with cognac.....

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February 11, 2007 - Sunday


All right you little shits. There will be a large, bloated update of fat writings for you shortly, after I transcribe the analog notes, but not yet. Shits. We are busy with the party

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February 7, 2007 - Wednesday

Johnny Blacklung and the Coughs
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

I have a goal, a plan , and a hope to not die of cancer tumors in my lung sacks. There are few goals in life as important to me as this one. The next time that I come to the Europe for the tour, I am going to try to bring oxygen tanks and masks with which to breathe in this hostile environment. Of course, if next winter is as warm or warmer than this, I will be killing myself out of sweat induced desperation and perhaaps hallucination. By then kevin costner may be in charge and life will be a bad movie. If things stray to this course, I will probably stay around and watch the movie.
Only about 20 misfits soongs made it on the trip. A small tragedy.
Yesterday was push up day. My favorite days of the week. We incorporated the raising of the feet and felt the burning results. I hope that my giant breasts do not make my sisters or my female friends jealous upon their return with me to the states. Please, stay your fears. I shall only use them as instruments of good. Push up day, I love you.
This evening entailed a show in the city of Rouen. I have tried to pronounce it, but my American mouth appears to actually be an ass opening, incapable of French speaking. It does cough exceptionally well, though.
A new experiment was under way tonight. I made the attempt to play without being drunk. It was a little boring, but contained so many fewer calories. Chasing after the buzz has grown tiresome, and I do not have the funding nor the desire to pay for the necessary liquors to produce a guaranteed alcoholic stupor. I must drink what is provided, and mostly this is beer. The juices make appearances too, though usually we are so dehydrated from drinking that the juices quickly disappear.
Perhaps I will try to reacquire sleep now.
No cats tonight but the weather was much colder. I was able to wear my scarf more. It seems they call them shawls in Germany? I do not support that title.
Good evening from Rouen, France. Live 2007

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