In the final part of his tour diary, Panama Kings guitarist Stuart Bell takes onto a party boat in Bristol before heading north for a trip up hill and down dale. It’s grim oop north…
DAY NINE:
Tonight’s venue – the Thekla in Bristol – is slightly different to other places we’ve played on this tour (or ever for that matter) in that it’s a boat. Not a waterside or pier-based venue but a straight-up honest-to-goodness boat, where you load in the gear over a plank and set up in the hull, which is conveniently fitted with a bar, dancefloor and stage. It’s a club show tonight so we’re the only band on and are treated to a lengthy soundcheck before seeing what the town has to offer. Bristol is certainly one of the nicer places we’ve visited and does a mean vege burger. Back at the boat the crowd tonight is an unusual one – it seems like no-one is expecting a band to play but after some initial trepidation we get the party well and truly started. Props to the female DJ whose name I didn’t get for playing really awesome tunes all night, including our boy Alex Metric.
DAY TEN:
Darlington, it seems, is a party town. We’re playing another club show at Inside Out and from the get-go the place is buzzing. It’s a multi room type affair and we’re playing in the downstairs bar which is decorated in a style similar to children’s TV’s Bitsa (anyone?) which I thought was pretty cool. When we hit the stage there are barriers put in place to stop the crowd getting onstage, initially we thought this was a bit presumptuous but no sooner have we done about 10 seconds of ‘Universes’ than Lil’ Chris himself is onstage rocking out like a bad thing. By the end of the set they have done nothing but encourage people to try and get in – and us to try and get out. After the show we head to Leeds to get some kip at our mate Sarah’s student halls.
DAY ELEVEN:
We’re still reading Get In The Van when we have a spare minute and one the recurring themes of the book is Black Flag’s blatant contempt for the police. We can relate to this because over the course of our time touring we have developed an unbridled seething hatred for traffic wardens. It’s not like we don’t try. We always make the effort to ensure the van is parked legally and that there’s a enough money on the meter but still the one thing we can rely on on the road is succession of clamps and fucking parking tickets. When we get up in Leeds we’re greeted with a fine for parking for about 30 minutes too long in the back-arse of a student halls at eight in the morning when there is literally about 100 empty spaces around. This is the second ticket of the tour on top of at least one congestion charge fine – fuck you Boris Johnson!
After a disgusting lunch in what can only be described as a poor man’s Wetherspoons (no, really) we hit the road for a last minute gig in Accrington by way of dinner at our pal Dek’s home in Blackburn. Dek treats us like rock royalty and offers us a bed for the night so we’re all in good form en route to the gig.
Playing a gig in Accrington is like playing a gig in Last Of The Summer Wine. it’s a peaceful little northern village but people still turn out to see bands. In my experience of northern England, and I realise this may a bit of an unfair generalisation, people like their meat-and-potatoes rock ‘n’ roll. There’s a really endearing sense of pride for their northern heroes (Oasis, The Stone Roses, Kasabian [actually from Leicester in the Midlands - Pedantic Ed] et al) which we could all learn from at home but despite all this and the fact that our music is more akin to the Pacific northwest, they give us a warm reception.
DAY TWELVE:
After a great night’s kip at Dek’s we make a move for Madchester. The weather is glorious, we’ve all recharged our batteries and we’re looking forward to an NI-fest for the last day of this leg of the tour. Ed Zealous, The Jane Bradfords and Strait Laces are all playing in the afternoon/evening preceding our gig so we head down to represent and in my case join in as I jump on with the Bradfords to add some extra guitar/keys/drumming. Once we’re done we head up to the Dry Bar to get organised for our own show and have to endure two of the worst bands I’ve honestly experienced. At this point we realise we’ve been booked for the ‘pity gig’ stage so are determined to rip it up.
And rip it up we do. With about 20-odd NI people getting the crowd riled up we tear through the most aggressive (and hottest) gig of the tour, finshing up with Niall and Franko [bassist Luke] in a pile on the floor mid-crowd. Once all the music is taken care of we get back to doing what we all do best – drinking. Merriment ensues and despite the fact that the other three bands have enormous fancy hotel rooms that we were offered to stay in I find myself pished and crosslegged in the hotel car park desperately trying to reassemble my camp bed whilst begging for mercy from the security guard who is threatening to ‘fuck me up’ for the large stream of piss rolling down his car park from just outside our van. Rock ‘n’ roll.
Quote of the tour so far: “If I saw my mum right now I’d punch her in the face.” (long distance travelling by this point had taken its toll)
Posted on: 27th January 2010
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