Day 1 – Nottingham, UK to Tilburg, Holland

… things not going too well. You know the score with touring – everyone crosses fingers and prays for the nicest mode of transport possible. Of course, we don’t always get what we want. And in the world of ‘band conveyance’ there are many unpleasant options.

With this Pitchshifter support tour we were informed early on that we would not be travelling with fellow notts-ites, the ‘Shifter. So we looked at what our budget could stretch too. Sadly Morris Minor’s with wheelbarrow trailers are not really appropriate. Luckily the man in the sheepskin coat (that’s manager to you) sorted us a lovely deal.

A converted longwheel base transit with six bunks, a video, game system, sink, mini-kitchen, mini-lounge etc. Can’t argue with that. What you can argue with is a 1.30am delivery of said vehicle. Especially as we anticipated receiving it during the day!

So we loaded up (in typically atrocious British weather) and claimed bunks. Through a series of events too horrendous to even record we ended up in Dover at 10.30am!!!

Oh, and it begins…

 

Day 2 - …still trying to get to Tilburg, Holland - 013

Got on the ferry only to be informed that the weather was creating a vomit-ride of unparalleled extremity. George (our driver) looked very, very tired. We all enjoyed a quality cup of coffee and Karl topped up his food supplies with a helping of beans on toast. (I only mention this because we have brought 60 tins of beans with us as emergency food rations!!!).

Right now it is 2pm. We are firing through France en route to Holland. Dave and Si have cracked some beers and are watching ‘Clerks’. Karl is sleeping. Joe is sitting upfront with George. I am writing this. Life, as a friend of mine once pointed out, is GOOD!

Arrived in Tilburg and parked our baby bus inside the mammoth venue. We have been here before (with Misery Loves Co.) and it is absolutely beautiful. The people are cool. The food is incredible. And, as it turns out, the gig is rammed! The lovely Pitchshifter lads are obviously v. big in Holland as the venue is almost sold out before the doors open.

We get an ‘inquisitive’ response (ie slow to warm to us but it does finally happen). Anyway, it is fun to be out in Europe again.

After we play, we shower, eat more, stash all our drinks on the bus and prepare to leave (for Denmark). But – horror of horrors – the power on our bus is, to use a technical term, fucked. No kettle, no microwave, no video etc etc. Not good.

A few panicky phone calls and little is resolved. But we have lights so we head off anyway.

 

Day 3 – Copenhagen, Denmark - Loppen

After another monumental drive we make it into the dark recesses of Copenhagen’s liberal, pseudo-independent drug state – Christina. There is a market flogging drug paraphernalia round the corner and it kinda feels like a cross between the hippy outworld of Nimbin (in Australia) and the underworld of Berlin! Relaxed with an undercurrent of hideous violence.

As it turns out the vibe is all good, and you cannot argue with a venue that loads gear via a winch/cage and creates ambience with candles across all the tables. Very cool.

We do a round of 6 interviews (courtesy of Tomas from Nordic Metal – our distributor in Denmark), and they are all excellent.

A couple of guys have come down to see us and make their way over to say hi.

The gig went well, with a receptive audience who seemed to be genuinely interested. We came off happy and very nearly forgot that our bus still had no power! Another fun drive beckoned…

 

Day 4 – Oslo, Norway (or rather it should have been…)

One of the best things about being in a band is seeing new places. You get a license (and subsidy) to travel.

One of the bad things about being in a band is having to deal with ‘jobsworth’ twats! And, sadly, Norway introduced us to a few!

We were making our way across the border (after a painful 10 hour drive) when we were pulled over and questioned as to the content of our trailer. After explaining that it was gear for a show, they countered that we were liable for 23% of the total value of our goods as tax!!! That equated to over £2000. We could claim the money back (but having experienced numerous forms of beaurocratic redtape over the years I wouldn’t have expected to get the cash back quickly!).

Well, we had agreed to pay up (on credit card) when the customs official we were dealing with mentioned that he would also want the weight of EVERY INDIVIDUAL ITEM! After cursing him profusely we duly obliged (rather inaccurately I reckon). At this point he explained that the processing of the data would take several hours (meaning we would miss soundcheck and food). And then (the crowning turd) he asked us to list the country of origin of every item in our trailer.

We smiled sweetly. Told him to begin processing and ran back to our bus and turned it round and started our journey to Sweden. Bastards.

Happily for us we made it to Stockholm in good time and we had a landline (external powersource). To salve the wound of a missed gig we downed a few bottles of wine and watched The Omen. Cool.

 

Day 5 – Stockholm, Sweden – Klubben

Beautiful venue. We all pile in as breakfast is served. Karl and I have a load of interviews planned, but we have a while to sort ourselves out, so it is off to the showers and out with the razors (only joking!).

We are sharing a dressing room with the Shifter, so we try to behave and not be too annoying.

Nothing too exciting to report about the activities of the afternoon. We did the interviews (all very cool) and soundchecked.

Actually that’s a lie… something very exciting happened. Our good friend Patrik Wirren (ex-Misery Loves Co) was one of the interviewers (he does work for Close-Up mag). We were all really happy to see him again. There was plenty of catching up to do… and gossip to share. Lovely bloke. (…keep your ears skinned for his new band… it’s gonna be cool!).

The gig was great. The Shifter’s soundman, Dufus, has started doing our sound and he is incredible. Even onstage we can hear how clear the sound is. We now love Dufus… (even though he comes from Wolverhampton).

And what makes the show even better is spotting the two Patriks and Michael (Valhalall) from Misery in the audience. I feel indebted to pull some serious shapes for them. I grin all the way through the show.

Watched Pitchshifter with the (ex) Misery boys. They are (as always) excellent. It is inspiring to watch them. I wish we could be a bit more together onstage sometimes.

After the show we hang with Misery and the lovely Jenny (a dj for Fury Radio). Somehow we end up in the flat of a journalist called Martin. He forces huge quantities of vodka down our throats and plays us the new Marilyn Manson, Halford and Monster Magnet albums. (Halford gets the best response). He is a nice man. (Martin, that is, not Halford. Although I am sure Halford is a nice man too).

George (our driver and all-round crew chap) disgraces himself by becoming a pissed-up idiot (a theme that is to recur throughout the night). He is forced to stumble out of Martin’s flat and back to the bus so as not to cause an international scene.

Somehow we end up at a rockclub called ‘Starbar’!!! It is 2.30am. We have no Swedish money. We are ratarsed beyond words. Karl is trying to throw a table at Si and I get accosted by a very strange bloke who is concerned about taking a lady home only to find out that she is a glammy-man. What is going on?

Karl finds all the merch money for the evening in his pocket and proceeds to spend it.

I send a text message to Copro headhoncho Jose’s mobile telling him that his cash is getting us pissed. I may live to regret that one.

After a tearful aurevoir to our Misery chums we take a taxi back to the bus. Karl still manages to fall down a 6" incline and fuck his ankle. We laugh. Good night.

 

Day 6 – on the road to Hamburg, Germany – Logo

Awoke to find the bus in motion. George had already begun the mammoth pan-European trek to get us back to Germany. The thoughtful people who planned the tour have allowed a ‘travel day’, which is (when you have no power) akin to spending 24hrs in a prison cell.

We wiled away the hours by attempting to read the foreign magazines we have been given and listening to music.

It was a slow, slow day.

Had a pleasant meal of reconstituted potato fat formulated into stringy lengths of intestine-looking glob on the ferry (for the bargain price of £5 per head) and finally limped into Hamburg.

Perhaps our main motivation for attempting the entire journey in one day was the golden promise of a landline at the venue. Of course, as we arrived we discovered that our extension cables were not long enough to reach the socket. Horse, and indeed, shit!

Another night with no lights!

 

Day 7 – Hamburg, Germany – Logo

The venue is on a main road so we woke up to the sounds of a busy town. If there is anything guaranteed to remind you just how cool it is being in a band, it is brushing your teeth in the street as miserable people trudge to work!

We manage to get power to the bus and recharge all mobiles and make a desperately needed cup of coffee. (…it’s the small things).

The venue is cool and everyone seems to have settled into the touring mindset.

Karl and I take a gander round the town and are blown away by the ornate architecture and pleasant views. I buy postcards and get upset because everyone I speak too speaks English. We are soooo shit. Never making an effort to converse in the language of the country we are in. Must do something about it one of these days.

As we are loading in a text message crosses the ether and appears on my mobile – ‘You have got the Soulfly support – Andy’. The man in the sheepskin coat has come good and we now have the prospect of a second great tour this year to keep us happy. Bargain.

We are so buoyed by the news that we foolishly attempt both Yellow Fever and Binary 101 in the soundcheck. They require both more rehearsal and, quite probably, better musicians!

The gig is ace! Great sound again and a receptive audience. Karl does his best to further german-anglo relationships by wearing a cut-off denim jacket and a gay bikers hat. Simon impresses us all by misreading the setlist and playing the wrong song halfway through the set. We stop. Si looks sheepish and Karl smoothly covers it by saying ‘err, only joking’.

We round off a cool day by drinking beer and watching Omen II.

 

Day 8 – Berlin, Germany – Knapp

On the road again. This time we are only a meagre 4 hours from our destination. Arrive refreshed and ready to rock. Sadly, boredom kicks in almost immediately.

George and I take a wander into this most historic of places. Feels strange to be here. The centre is quite spectacular. There are some amazing civic buildings. We also witness an incongruous funfair.

We head back to undertake another soundcheck and meet up with Gero, a rep for the company promoting us in Germany. He is a lovely guy and has organised all kinds of interviews for us.

Once again we abuse Pitchshifter’s hospitality and continually squeeze ourselves into the solitary box-like dressing room. As always they kindly don’t boot us out!

With only 5 minutes to go before show time the venue looks a little empty, but as we take our places the place is rammed. Where were they hiding??? Tonight’s gig is awesome. Great response and a real feeling of achievement. We come off elated.

The buzz even lasts as we pack up our van and head off on the 8 hour drive to Cologne!

 

Day 9 – Cologne, Germany – Underground

Awoke this morning to hear Mark Clayden (Pitchshifter bassist) persuading an over zealous traffic warden that our van was going to be moved imminently. Panic stations.

Turned out that George had been unable to find the venue carpark and had parked us up outside on the street, then gone for a walk with the keys in his pocket. Luckily Mark’s intervention and a speedy return from George got us out of the shit. Close call though!

I tell you what too – Mark Clayden is not only the kindest man in rock – he is also the nicest bloke I think I have EVER met. On this tour he has helped us load-in our gear. Made Karl honey & lemon drinks every day to help with his throat. Given us beer and wine off Pitchshifter’s own rider. He is like the big daddy looking after the slow-witted son. We would be lost without him!

Once we have loaded the gear in we all sit about and relax. Then we get a call from Karla Sopp (a lovely young lady who does an et9 website). She is outside the venue with two friends! We hangout for the afternoon. It is so cool to meet people on the road – I have had all kinds of correspondence with Karla because of the website stuff, so it is all the more poignant to finally put a face to the name. Karla had even done some fliers to promote our album! How cool is that?!?

After a great interview with Marcus from Rock Hard magazine we head for the stage. It is another packed gig and probably the best response we have had on the tour. I am touched to see Karla down the front singing ALL the words. We play a very rough-edged show but inject it with plenty of passion. The audience is so receptive that the set just flies by.

Pitchshifter literally tear the place down. Insane!

Mark (n.m.i.rÔ ) joins us on our bus after the show and we have a cool chat (we are documenting all his advice!!!).

There is a club after the gig but we have another massive drive ahead of us, so we reluctantly leave. In a ‘not very shocking’ twist Si and Dave manage to persuade PSI to let them crash on their bus for a night. We leave them in an already drunken state harbouring grave concerns for both their own safety and the continued structural harmony of the PSI bus.

Our fingers are very tightly crossed.

 

Day 10 – Munich, Germany – Backstage

Everybody is slow to rise today. Jim (Pitchshifter guitarist) was celebrating a birthday last night and rumour has it that all hell broke loose on their bus. Si and Dave remain tight-lipped on their involvement but both admit to being sick. Numerous digital photos of tour personnel in various combinations of nakedness/sleeping with cunningly added adornments etc etc surface and we witness a lot of pasty faces.

Funnily enough we have a photo session for Visions magazine planned, so we take great pleasure in turfing Si and Dave from their temporary boltholes.

Five roles of film later and we are ready for breakfast (even though it is 5pm!).

The venue is pretty big and hopes are high for the last German date. It has definitely been a great success so far and we have had fun. It has been gratifying to see that some people know who we are! Hopefully we can keep building on that.

The gig is rammed again and we throw ourselves into the show with gusto. The reaction is great again – this is getting to be a habit – and we come offstage pretty damn happy.

Despite their earlier indulgences Pitchshifter still manage to play a blinder, and we pack down our gear to the sound of 400 German’s pogoing! Nice.

We decide to stay overnight (while we still have power) and crack out a few more bottles of wine and The Omen III. That’s one trilogy down.

It’s also suggested by various people that taking any ‘illicit’ substances into France is a seriously bad idea. The result of said comments is one member of our party consuming pot at a rate not seen since the seventies. Oh, how we laughed.

 

Day 11 – Mulhouse, France – Noumatrouse

We arrived at the venue unmolested by the fickle finger of french customs but seriously late. Luckily no-one seems even vaguely concerned about our tardiness and we set about loading-in. Our good friends, Natalie and Sabrina, have travelled from Lyon to see us, so we hang out together, enjoying the luxury of our own dressing room.

The venue is a biggie and the stage span is pretty daunting. We are not the most visual of bands, so an over abundance of space can actually be detrimental. Anyway, it proves to be ok as the stage shrinks when two bands gear is on it.

The audience seem less than enthralled with us to begin with. Karl throws them some lines… ‘I see we have offended you in a past life. Karma bites us on the arse again.’ The audience doesn’t get it. We laugh internally.

Si’s hi-hats break. We hastily rearrange the set. Things are not going well.

Despite the friendly faces of Natalie and Sabrina out front and a warmer response from the crowd we feel the gig is slipping away from us.

We limp to the concluding notes of Simon Says and vacate the stage. We have done better gigs.

Rather surprisingly we get a big round of applause from the audience and plenty of plaudits from the PSI guys. Turns out it sounded awesome out front and was better received than we had imagined. Ho hum – the oddities of life on the road.

The alcohol flows, I indulge in a lengthy blast of Perfect Dark on the N64 and life seems good.

 

Day 12 – on the road in France

Too dull to document. We drive. We stop for fuel. We read. We fail to find a campsite. We spend the night in a French service station. We decide to drink coffee all night as we are too awake to sleep. We are asked to leave the station at 3am (even though it is 24hrs). Bugger.

 

Day 13 – still on the road in France

We find a campsite. It is closed. A friendly local informs us that the holiday season has ended. We cry.

George decides to take us all the way to Angoulume.

An astounding 12 hour drive later and we arrive at the venue. And there is no external power points. For, and indeed, fuck’s sake.

We decide to eat at a take away joint and duly find the nearest pizzeria. Heaven arrives on a 15" vegetable deluxe.

Back at the venue some of the band are forced to undertake stealth excretion missions in the nearby wooded areas. Whilst ‘at work’ the most horrendous sound emits from over the nearby wall. It sounds like metal being torn apart or the tortured screams of a creature in mortal fear.

It is an abattoir and the latter is sadly true. I have never heard anything like it in all my life. It is the most horrifying sound imaginable. Even when I get into my bunk and I have put earplugs in, I can still hear it. It makes me think of concentration camps. My dreams are not good.

And neither, it appears, are Dave’s, as he wakes us all by screaming at the top of his lungs. The band collectively wets the bed and we all fear marauding creatures have overrun the bus. Luckily it is just a nightmare and sleep finally reclaims us with Si’s sympathetic words ringing in our ears…

"Fucking hell Dave… sort it out for fucks sake!"

 

Day 14 – outside the venue and very fucking bored

No gig until tomorrow. But we are saved from death by boredom because someone appears at the venue and gives us some power! Hallelujah and praise the lord! Videos. N64. Kettle. Microwave. Never have these small pleasures been so gratefully received.

Si ventures into the town centre and returns with wine and beer. All the essentials.

We spend the day watching movies and boozing. As I have repeatedly mentioned, it doesn’t take much to keep us entertained.

Throughout the day we are repeatedly visited by a stray dog. We christen it Smorgasbord in honour of Misery Loves Co. It is extremely friendly and we feed it. By the evening it won’t leave our sides. It ventures onto the bus. We are so taken with her that we ring our label and ask them to look into the possibilities of taking the dog back to England!

Even George (the sole voice of reason) is unable to kick her off the bus. She begins to whine pitifully as soon as he makes to remove her.

She sleeps in the cabin!

 

Day 15 – Angouleme, France – Le Nef

Another killer venue. We are enjoying our breakfast when Natalie and Sabrina appear! Cool to have friends on the road. They keep us entertained until we are called to soundcheck.

Things go swimmingly until my amp fizzes and dies! We have no spare, so we appear to be well and truly screwed. Kev Papworth (PSI stage manager) whips out his trusty tools and goes to work on the offending article. But it is beyond the attentions of even the guitar doctor.

Luckily for me the Pitchshifter posse haul me out of the shit. They grab their spare amp, some of Matt’s pedals and before you know it I have a rig.

Earthtone9 – sponsored by Pitchshifter.

The gig is very weird. The venue has a substantial limiter, so we only play at the same volume as a subdued conversation. Despite this (and the weirdness of playing with a different amp) we get to the end of the set unscathed. The audience are warm and we leave feeling good.

Natalie and Sabrina are travelling overnight with us, so we pile into our bus and head for the hills.

 

Day 16 – Paris, France – Le Boule Noire

As usual the Parisians give us a typically warm welcome – screaming at us to move our van from outside their shops! As one owner complains we move further down the road and then receive an ear bending from the owner of his neighbours establishment. This continues until we decide to adopt a more Paris-centric approach to affairs and just leave the van where it is and tell anyone who comes near us to sod off.

This works, so we load into the venue and scavenge a breakfast. Despite being in such an incredible city we are just too far from the sites, so we all head for whatever attractions we think we can reach in the time available. Si and Dave take Natalie and Sabrina to the red light district (!!!), Karl and George head for the nearby cathedral and Joe and I do the guitar shop thang. Almost feels like real life for a bit.

The show is cool. The audience are (as now anticipated) slow to warm to us, but get there in the end. We notice reactions to certain songs, and it seems that some people actually know our stuff. Bargain!

Pitchshifter patently have lots of friends in Paris as the dressing room fills up like an alcoholics bladder after their blinding performance. We do our best to get in the way and be annoying as we can by removing all of our equipment straight through the hordes.

Rather surprisingly Darren Taylor (editor of UK Rocksound) makes an appearance. We chat for a while and it is cool to put a face to the name. He has some cool plans for the mag – so keep your eyes peeled throughout 2001.

Before leaving we head for a late night taverna and have a meal with Natalie and Sabrina. The random plates of veggie fare they provide are devoured in an almost animalistic orgy of excess.

After a few sad goodbyes (our French sisters have university to return to), we hit the road.

 

Day 17 – Clermont, France – La Cooperative De Mai

Last show in France and perhaps the most impressive venue since Tilburg. The gargantuan structure houses two venues - an aircraft hangar and a more intimate setting that we are playing in.

It is a very modern building. Very hi-tech. The urinals flush automatically as you move away from them. The towel rails are motorised so they roll on after you have dried your hands. All the soap dispensers fire out aerated cleaning foam. It is very cool.

Of course, I fail to notice most of this because we have a landline and I am almost physically unable to leave the bus.

After soundcheck we head for the catering department and our freshly prepared meal. The meat eaters catch a glimpse of their main course – a bed of spiced pulses and a sausage that resembles uncooked offal in a condom. In a comedy moment the entire touring party turns vegetarian. The food is excellent and we eat like the pigs we are.

The show is great again. Karl berates the audience for standing too far back and surprisingly they oblige by coming forward. We unleash half an hour or racket and vacate the stage.

I spent a good few hours amusing myself with the backstage washroom technology and then we are off on our way to Spain. (But not before Mark Clayden ^n.m.i.r brings us a huge box of beer to take with us).

 

Day 18 – Oriezyan(?), Spain - Pagao

This is Basque Separatist country – not that I know anything about the situation here! We vow to say nothing incase it turns out to be controversial. But forget the politics – this is a stunning area. The views (mountainous ranges, lush greenery, picture perfect cottages etc etc) are simply breathtaking. The only sound to permeate the air is dogs barking and kids playing. It is very Little House on the Prairie. What an amazing place to live!

During the course of the day we certainly witness an amazing display of the fabled Spanish work ethic. Everything rolls along at the pace of a stoned snail. Not that it matters. We aren’t exactly in a hurry.

The venue itself is cool but kinda odd. It is a big hall but the stage has steps leading upto it along almost its full length!

The venue also has its own restaurant – and that is where we receive our rider. And the food is absolutely stunning. Without doubt the best I have had on this (or perhaps any) tour. A fresh salad with asparagus and beautiful dressing. Fresh, warm bread rolls. Ice cold lager. A tomato and pasta dish that they called vegetarian spaghetti but was quite obviously deserving of a more fancy name. And chocolate icecream and cream. Oh yes indeed.

Obviously it proves hard to play a blinding gig after that feed but we give it our best shot. It is not the biggest crowd of the tour but they are enthusiastic and we have fun.

 

Day 19 – Madrid, Spain – Caracol

More displays of the aforementioned spanish work ethic today. Sadly it is more inconveniencing for us than yesterday. We have a brief flirt with power and then the landline is yanked from us because it might cause someone to trip in the street. One of our party points out that the shifter have a line plugged in and ours could just be taped to theirs. But, apparently, they have no more plug sockets in the venue.

No worries we say. We’ll just sit in the venue and chill with a few beers. But our rider is no where to be seen.

"Hey, mr promoter, any chance we could grab our rider drinks please?"

"Errr, yeah, I’ll just get them."

Fifteen minutes pass.

"Mr promoter – any joy with those drinks?"

"Errrr, sure. I’ll just get them."

Fifteen minutes pass.

"Mr promoter – those drinks still aren’t here."

" Errr, let me just sort them out now."

Fifteen minutes pass.

"Mr promoter, one of our party has been rushed to hospital with severe dehydration. Do you think you could see your way clear to getting the drinks we were promised on our rider????"

"Sure, no problem."

Fifteen minutes later.

We go onstage.

Maybe it was the lack of rider. Maybe the lack of power. But something inspires us to play like demons tonight. Maybe our best performance of the tour. It rockkkkkks!

We finish. We leave.

 

Day 20 – Barcelona, Spain – Garatge

Today is quite important in the big scheme of things. Our sheepskin wearer has flown out to meet up with two labels about possible wheeler-dealings. We are required to be on-fire at the show. No problemo.

A nice man from Columbia takes us for a meal. Nice. We chat and enjoy a lazy Barcelonian afternoon. Karl asks why Columbia fucked C.O.C. Mr Columbia stands tall and defends the label. He is no pussy.

We wander back to the venue and prepare for the show.

Rather than delve too deeply into the exact happenings that followed let me just list the events.

We walk onstage to approximately 20 people.

We begin creating artistic feedback.

Karl goes to introduce us as ‘et9’ when he notices that his microphone has stopped working. He gesticulates wildly at the soundman and crew. They ignore him.

We continue creating artistic feedback.

Karl still gesticulating.

We now look like idiots.

A techie appears onstage and replaces karls mic.

Karl says… "..and finally – we’re earthtone9."

Si begins I Nagual Eye.

Perhaps happily this delay has allowed a few more people to enter the venue.

We launch into I Nagual Eye like our very lives depended on it.

Karl and Joe look bewildered as it becomes apparent that ALL the monitors have stopped working.

We continue playing, Joe and Karl hoping that the harmony vocals in the chorus are still harmonies.

We start Star Damage For Beginners.

Dave is looking anxious. His bass is not working. There is no sound coming out of his amp.

We finish the second song with no monitors or bass.

Through the universal medium of hand signals and gurning-like facial tomfoolery we finally get the monitors back.

Dave manhandles his bass rig back into action.

We continue with the set (slightly put off our stride as I’m sure you can imagine)!

Things start to slot into place.

The venue starts to fill up.

We are angry, so we play hard.

It’s getting better.

And then… my guitar strap lock breaks and my guitar drops away from me mid-song.

Arse!

Mr Papworth leaps onto the stage and gaffers the offending strap onto the offending guitar and we continue.

We finish and leave the stage.

What a way to end the tour.

Still, who gives a fuck.

Thankyou and good night.