This week I’ve been furiously loading software, racking up hardware (I had to buy a studio outboard gear rack, and lots of cables), and getting into mixing the A Life A Song A Cigarette album. In between I have had appointments, package deliveries, mornings in the park with Aden (school’s out for summer), a sleepover with Aden’s school friend to oversee, etc. No need to say the week shot by. One night during the days I was setting up the studio, I snuck out to see the late showing of ‘In Bruges’, which is quite a good film…
I found a DJ shop in my neighborhood that sells basic music gear, and was able to buy most of the cables I needed there…I love when I find things in the neighborhood instead of having to take the metro to some place like Pigalle, that’s not easy to get to.
ALKMAAR, 7/5
I was up this morning at 5.30, after mixing til 1.30. Unexpectedly, Dom & Aden actually got up to see me off, which was really sweet. Aden begged me not to go, but I explained it was my job and people were expecting me there, I had made a promise to be there, and I could only promise that I would be back the next day.
I walked up to the metro to head to Gare du Nord. I always enjoy being up early, and feeling the city’s calm before it comes to life.
Some hours later, I was in Alkmaar, and Lien, one of the organizers of the show, met me at the train station. I walked over to her place, to meet her b.f. and members of the band Black Sheriff—including Glen, the bartender from the Sonic Ballroom who was working the night White Flag played there a couple of months ago. We headed over to the festival; my bandmates were starting to make their way from the Amsterdam airport.
This was the Parkhof’s yearly festival. The Parkhof is in a park as the name implies—I don’t know what it was built to be, but it is now occupied half by the music venue that squatted there many years ago, and half by a kind of thrift store. The squat has gone legit over the years, and now is a regular stop for many a punk band on the curcuit. So, in July, the put a couple of stages in the park and of course had bands play in the club; we played indoors. All for free. Theoretically it costs one Euro to get in, but I didn’t hear of anybody actually paying that.
We started to assemble the backline--mostly courtesy of Black Sheriff--hang our backdrop, etc. This is after the first band, The Suicidal Birds, were done—the S.B.’s being a duo of two super tough looking women, playing awesome, almost grunge-like, punky rock; they play guitar and bass accompanied by a drum machine. Awesome.
We did our thing, and being that no one knows us in Holland to this point, the audience went thru a series of expressions I have seen a few times—curious, then amused, then intrigued, then they’re our best friends! A few familiar faces in the crowd, folks came down from Den Helder (Den Helder is the terminus for the train that goes from Amsterdam to Alkmaar). A band we saw on the main outdoor stage, kind of nu metal, had a singer who had a wireless mic, who never did more than squat on the bass bin in front of the stage. Me, with a cable, I was climbing on some scaffolding * outside * the club within a few minutes of the start!
Anyhow, we had a great show, and people seemed to love it. And, that is the only assessment really worth noting! Great people at the Parkhof, and the organizers from the Sonic Rendezvous label/discitribution co., we thank you!
LUTTENBERG, 7/5
As soon as we were done and I finished selling CDs/vinyls from atop a dumpster in the drizzle, we said our goodbyes, and climbed in the van that had come to pick us up for the next festival—orig. plan was to go by train, but it was really indirect and lengthy and would have put us in town not very long before showtime. I managed to convince the festival to pick us up, which they had no obligation to do, but they agreed to, which was incredibly cool.
In the van we had time to get tired, of course—getting up before dawn and playing a very physical rock show has its effects, and we were all beat. We had two hours to relax, actually. Needed.
We arrived to the festival grounds, a grouping of tents in/adjacent to a small enclosure in a small field, bordered mostly by cornfields but on one side by woods. A tiny site, as festivals go. But, Luttenberg is a tiny town. We didn’t even see it, and I’m not sure there’s much of a center. The parking lot was mostly empty when we arrived, and when we surveyed the grounds, we could see a few dozen people about. There were two tents, that alternated artists, a dance tent, a little tiny biergarten in the middle of the grounds, and on the edge were a few food and drink vendors. Think of it more like a very deluxe garden party than something like Glastonbury. We observed the Belgian Motorhead, Snaggletooth—a three piece hard rock band, with a cowboy hat –sporting gravel voiced singer playing a Rickenbacker bass—sound familiar?
I was once again reunited with Menko, The Posies tour manager/sound engineer 1996-1998; we had just seen him when he stage managed our show in Eindhoven in April. Laughing, I said “these things come in threes—so what’s the third?” He came back to me later, laughing—he’s at Bukta Festival in Tromsø with Woven Hand, the same day we are!
Anyway, when Snagglehead finished, and the band on the B stage began, we started setting up. There was some backline available in a trailer, we selected the pieces we wanted—Motortooth was kind enough to offer their behemoth drumkit, but we decided to go with a more modest kit (although Claus showed me photos of his new kit and it looks very much like something Keith Moon would play were he with us today). We set up, and got liquided up, and got, uh…made use of the running water, sit-down toilets that are such a rarity at festivals.
And then we rocked it. Seriously! We actually got Dutch people to dance at a show—Dutch audiences are notoriously mellow, you can sometimes think that you are being poorly received when in fact, people are just reserved at shows. As loud and hearty as Dutch people can be in person, as an audience they are quite shy. So, people were really rocking with us. We did 66% of “Shadow of Your Doubt” when Bjorn broke a string. We got an encore (no mean feat at a festival) and had a great, great show. I learned a few tricks from watching Aden on the playground and learned how to hang from the back of my knees off the barricade…I had plenty of cable, enough to get me way outside the tent.
Two excellent shows with two excellent audiences and two great festival staffs in one day. Thanks all.
After the show I went out on the grass, spread out a towel, and sold CDs and vinyls, and communed with the local kids. Actually had a chance to relax and chat with folks (and autographed a lot of sneakers). It’s nice to hear about other people’s lives, and tell people a bit about myself rather than just scream at them for 45 minutes.
Our original plan to hightail it outta there after the set was derailed by the pleasant atmosphere of that field, despite intermittent contributions from the clouds above. We ended up watching a few songs of Bettie Serveert (I didn’t explain, but Menko was there to do sound for them); I had chatted with guitarist Peter earlier, I hadn’t seen him since the Posies and B.S. played together in Beglium 11 years ago. Still great they are, with the drummer from a band, Metal Molly, that Jon produced, playing with them now.
But we still left before they were done, Bjorn was drunk enough to be hilariously nonsensical in the 20 minute van ride to our accommodations.
Our accommodations were a little Legoland village, where people rent little houses (they call them cabins, but, they are really just small, spare modern homes). I guess to get out of a bigger city they would come here. Anyway, it was a nice place to catch some sleep.
And get up at 7 to start making our way to Rotterdam.
ROTTERDAM, 7/6
We emerged from our little Mon Oncle cabin and waited for the van to come, like in I Am the Walrus. Our man took us to Zwolle, and bought the tix for us—and happily took the pile of coins and €5’s I presented as payment! We had time to load up on cafes and croissants, and boarded the train. It terminated in Rotterdam, all good. We stopped along the way, eventually in Utrecht, which I thought was odd as I didn’t see Utrecht listed on the sign by the platform as one of the stops. In fact, it was the * new * end of the line—a railway employee said the train would go no further and we had to get on another one. Okayyy…we went into the main hall, and the info desk told me all the trains going to Rotterdam were cancelled, and we would have to take a train to Den Haag, get off at Gouda and get a bus to Rotterdam. Oh. I went and looked on the board, and there were no trains to Rotterdam listed any more…except one, in about 25 mintues. I went back—“what about that one?” “It’s not going.” So, we went down to the platform to catch the Den Haag train, which was coming in just a few minutes. We were told our tickets would be honored all the way. Fair enough. Like dumbass tourists we sat in first class without checking to see where we were—it only dawned on us a few minutes later we were in the wrong section. No one had the energy to move all our stuff to another car. The conductor gave us a pass on this one, since by the time she checked the tickets we were one stop away from Gouda, she said. But, surely she met two stops? West Gouda was first, then Gouda central. Nope. Wrong again. The train came to a halt in West Gouda, and that was the end of this line. No Gouda, no Den Haag. The train headed back to Utrecht! A few calls to the promoter and we were sorted—a van came, picked us up and drove us to Rotterdam. Never did find what the trouble was.
In any case, we were soon on the enormous site of the Metropolis Festival—celebrating 20 years of having up and coming bands play for free in a huge park in the southern edge of the city. There’s some 4 stages that I could see, and I believe there are another one or two scattered about somewhere…about 8,000 people come down…and no band that plays is a mainstream act or even underground legend—it’s all bands that are prob. on their first record, or not even on their first record. I knew some names—Blood Red Shoes, the Virgins, Devotchka—myspace sensations of recent months; but that’s about it. On our stage was also Friska Viljor, a Swedish band that has moments of Arcade Fire, F. Ferdinand, the Wombats…anthemic, uplifting indie pop played with much energy (and a mandolin). I was excited to see them, and quite thrilled to find someone I knew was playing in the band—so I was able to chat and meet them, and of course enjoyed watching their set—but that was much, much later.
For our part when we showed up the festival grounds were yet to open to the public, and it was quiet, considering about 40 bands were going to be playing. We started to get acquainted with the crew, the backline, etc. Meanwhile, Christophe, our sound engineer, was on his way from Paris, and his train failed to materialize at the appointed time. His cell phone was out of range, but we found him, and he was arriving about 30 minutes behind schedule, the trains were backed up a bit, even the problem was mainly affecting trains north of Rotterdam, it was starting to affect performance up and down the line. But, he arrived, we soundchecked, and were hoping to be ready. At least I was, I had some reservations about the state of my voice after the shows the previous night and afternoon. My voice when I got up at 7 had a bit of the checkout kid in The Simpsons, with the perpetually breaking voice. Even before the show it was not quite back up to speed. But, somehow, miraculously, and because I did my best to avoid talking and drinking in the 15-hour period between shows, I was fine. And weirdly, my voice was totally normal after the show. I thought I might stave off hoarseness until the show was done, but I was sure I’d be in worse shape after this third show than I had been this morning. And I’m completely fine.
Now, the show, was great fun. We were the first band on the B stage, which was quite a ways from the mainstage, but we had some people there, and they were into it—only a few knew us, most folks it was pure curiosity or chance that got them there. And we gave them quite a show. Due to the enormity of the stage, once I was in the crowd I couldn’t leave so I simply played the last 75% of the show there…got the kids jumping, and ended up handcuffed to at least two of them! Bjorn has a shaky guitar connection that he did his best to fix but it left us guitarless for portions of the first coupla songs.
Anyway, it was a great weekend and a great intro to Holland, we come away with many new fans, many young ones which are the best, being so into it, of course! We sold all the CDs we brought, almost 100 of them, and tons of vinyls. Which is usually a good gauge of how people are digging it, if they want a souvenir.
So, thank you all for more great shows.
Love
KS
Paris
