Tour 2018 - Brighton (Day 9)

Chuck at the Hope & Ruin - Photo by Lisa Walker

Snack of the Day: Nacho Cheese Flavored Bugles

They may have these in the States but none of us have ever had them. We have the Dorito dust and we have Bugles. How have the endless product innovation meetings not come up with this like 50 years ago? Doritos? Corn chip. Bugles? Corn cornucopia. “Seriously Jerry, why are you so afraid to try this idea?”
“Well the way I see it, if it was such a good idea someone else would have done it a long time ago”

Britishism: Winder

The turny handle thing for raising and lowering car windows. I looked it up to make sure I had heard correctly and the term window winder came up. When I first looked at it I thought it said widow winder. Ah ha! Now that’s a term I can work with. Could it be a gigolo who seduces ancient rich widows? Or more along the lines of a tool so dangerous it makes widows of those who use it. And then of course you have to wonder what sort of tool that would be. In my mind I see a very large, unstable spring. Flat like those in a watch. It gets wound to an exciting degree, so that the series of razor blades attached to the whip-end tremble with potential energy. Its use? If you calibrate it just right, it can perfectly peel, core, and slice an apple in one go. Of course if the calibrations are off then noses and toeses are surgically cut right off. When three men were maimed making one apple pie the foreman was heard to say, "If there’s a better way to peel an apple I’d like to hear it.”

The hotel we were staying in was delightful if the word delightful meant, “Are you fucking kidding me?” Joe, John, and I walked into the room and Joe said, “It smells like someone puked in here.” And it really did. We looked around but didn’t find any pieces of corn or other damning evidence. I walked into the bathroom and there was a human pubic hair dangling off the soap dispenser. We asked nicely if we could move rooms but they were inevitably full. In lieu of that a very nice employee came into the room and sprayed so much orchid and passion flower scent I could barely see Joe though the fog. She then sprayed the carpet with a different bottle and said, “It’s safe to walk on.” I asked if she could leave the spray in case the smell came back. She gave me a look and then reluctantly agreed. John sat down on his bed, sniffed and said, “Now it smells like a woman’s armpit in here.” I looked at the can and sure enough, she had fumigated the room with deodorant spray. Chuck and Lisa, by sheer coincidence were being housed in a disabled room. This means the shower is in the main room and has no door, walls, or edge to the shower floor. The success of this is predicated entirely on the slope of the floor and the efficiency of the drain. Sadly, the mucous and hair eating drain troll had not yet returned from holiday and their room flooded. A lot. A hotel in a big city is not necessarily better than one in a small town.

We landed in Brighton with an hour to spare before load in. Brighton was one of our favorite places on the last tour and we were excited to get back there. It’s such a wonderful windy* beach town and appeared unchanged since our last visit. I came across a wonderful antique bookstore where you had to descend a spiral staircase to get to the idiosyncratic selection in the basement. Had a coffee, a chocolate, exchanged some money and wandered over to the club.

The Hope and Ruin is an amazing venue. Right up there with the Musician in Leicester. Run by sensationally nice people, vegetarian food on site, and one of the best sound people in the world. Leon makes every band sound like the way they wished they did on record. We soundchecked, bickered, and everyone went their separate ways.** And this next sentence will be henceforth known as the whole reason this blog exists. Go to Foodilic. It’s a small restaurant that serves buffet style some of the freshest, cleanest, yummiest food I’ve had. Perfect for someone whose body is tired of processed, too rich, road food diets. And for only seven pounds! We’re talking rocket salad, couscous, lentil salad, and citrusy green beans to die for. Joe made vaguely obscene noises while eating the meat, so I have to assume it was equally good. Oh and did you know that Brits go through buffet lines backwards? The correct way is left to right. Especially when the salads are on the left as they were here. Joe and I spawned our way against the current and were gently admonished by Shaun for this faux pas.***

Feeling physically better than I had in days I walked down to the beach to work on the mental side. The fog was so thick you could just see a fuzzy indication of where the end of the pier might be. I spent a happy hour looking for rocks that were trying just a little harder than the others, so that I might lift them from their obscurity and carry them around in my pocket for awhile. I watched the surf and tried to let the timelessness of the sea put all the petty and transient worries in their proper place.**** I was pleased to note that small clots of insular and surly teens squatted in the out of way corners of the beach. The spirit of Quadrophenia being kept alive.

I’m not going to complain about the difficulties that with clockwork precision disrupted our set. Instead I’m going to say that I am proud of us. We had technical issues, broken strings, and voice troubles. All serving to force us to shout out whatever song could be played at that moment with what was available. And we did it. And I think put on a fairly entertaining show. I always tell my students that the essence of live performing is dealing with the unexpected. The ability to roll with the nightly challenges is kind of a big deal for bands. The crowd was generous with their patience and enthusiasm. What a great, little, weird city. It feels like Austin in a way. I get the sense that it’s a very artist/freak friendly. We need more spaces like that.

Tomorrow we cross the Channel!

* windy not windy
** Air keyboard go!
*** We said, "Whatever man."
**** It didn't. Stupid shelfish sea.

Tour 2016 - Brighton (Day 10)

Salty Snack of the Day: Leighton Brown Sweet Potato and Cheese and Jalapeno Crisps – Not a very common brand I gather but ridiculously delicious. Oh and before the show a couple of audience members who have reading the blog provided an entertaining and educational discussion  about the merits of regional salty snacks. And when people began shouting out different snacks during our set I was tickled beyond belief.

Britishisms Heard Uttered: Wee – As in pee. In the Windmill’s men’s room, one peed against a ceramic wall where the collective urine was collected in a gutter-sized trough and sent steaming to the right. During the second afternoon, when the festival was still going on, a little boy said to his father, “Daddy, I’ve never had a wee in one of these before!” He was so innocent and excited he didn’t realize it was actually barbaric.

 Birds: I saw one species of bird in Brighton. The Herring Gull – large, noisy, and ubiquitous; they are the American tourists of the bird world.

Signs That Sound Naughty: All three of these were spotted on the way to the hotel after playing Brighton. Will likely not be a regular feature.
Sussex Tent Show
Arlington Upper Dicker
Polegate Willingdom

 We got up and hustled out of Leicester as every one was excited to get to Brighton, a seashore town made famous to me by the Who’s “Quadrophenia.” We had about an hour and a half to see the sights before soundcheck so Olie, who lives there, played tour guide and took us around. It was a stunning, perfectly sunny day as Olie parked the van at the beach by the huge Ferris Wheel. The beach at Brighton is composed of rocks. Some as big as a steak bone, some patches of small pebbles, but most the size of a small rubber bouncing ball. A bit difficult to walk in but the child in me, as well as Chuck, (our inner children are conjoined and named Bo and Percival) began selecting the most interesting examples until we had a pocketful of rocks.

The beach cuts towards the ocean in a steep terraced fashion and when the water was pulled back into the ocean as the bigger waves receded it made a hissing, bee-like sound I loved. There seemed to be a lot of what looks like flint in their composition, but regardless, the rocks make a glassine sound when knocked together either by us or the ocean. Just lovely.

Next we began moving into town via the South Lanes. Very narrow, twisty, pedestrian only roads going back to the city’s fishing town origins, but now full of unusual posh shops like the one that created these two-foot high edible chocolate eggs.

We walked by the Pavilion, described as a pleasure palace built for King George the IV. By the time it was done it had domes, minarets, and towers, reflecting a decidedly Indian flare. It’s quite stunning even if it was just built so a spoiled prince would have a place to party and shag.

Then into the North Laines, spelled differently for reasons I could look up, but I’ve already looked two things up and honestly it’s just below the threshold of fucks I give. The North Laines continued the trend of cool antique/vintage shops, bookstores and such. And here is where I’d like to state my favorite thing about Brighton. It’s a beach town, a longstanding tourist destination, but it is almost entirely bereft (bereft can be a good thing) of cheesy chain stores. Of course there are some sops to tourism. The world famous Pier, which had closed by the time I got to it, looks just packed with noxious family entertainments. But it has retained a certain elegance. Olie says it’s a town very accepting to artists and the odd. I could easily spend several happy days here I think.

We split up for about half an hour while Olie went back to fetch the van. I had a half pint, sat outside watching the world go by and eating my first Cornish Pasty. (rhymes with patsy or ummm…rhinoplasty) Like a large empanada but with dough more similar to that of a pie. I had the cheese and onion and it was like a Hot Pocket fit for a very kind, benevolent king.

On to the Hope and Ruin, our venue for the night. The downstairs pub and restaurant were super cool with all kinds of hipster shit on the wall. (Not literally – although I did contribute a little smackeral later on) They had fit a camper (caravan) into one corner and turned it into a vegan kitchen. I enjoyed their Krautwork vegan dog later. The windows were open to the sidewalk and we all sat there for a bit, reveling in the beautiful day and rather fetching populace.

The venue itself was a lovely clean version of the rock bar box. When the soundman, a fastidious and thorough man named Leon, spent a full five minutes just on the Joe’s kick drum sound, Lisa laid down on the stage to wait and we all drooped a little bit. But oh my God it was the David of kick drum sounds, and the rest of the band sounded just as good. It was like we were getting studio sound in a club.

After check everyone went off to get food but I was still engorged by my pasty. I headed towards a very thin, incredibly tall and modern looking structure that Pierced (2nd worst James Bond ever) the sky. When I reached it I saw it was not yet completed but would eventually have a clear glass restaurant or some such riding up and down it like a doughnut on a hot dog. When I asked Olie’s girlfriend (a thoroughly charming and delightful young lady far too good for Olie ) she had several choice words for that horrible, expensive monstrosity. I will say, the early days of the project appear to have nothing to do with the aesthetic of the town.

I walked up the beach from the twice burned pier to the presently popular and unburned pier, walked through town until my feet sent pings of pain up my legs with every step, like the Nerka being depth-charged by Bungo Pete.*

The show was fabulous. It’s amazing how much more you can bring to a performance with great sound. Someone explain to me the high level of ability the soundmen (unfortunately all men thus far) of this island possess? The sound has been consistently great night after night, the engineers and crew consistently cheerful and accommodating. One thing that is the same is the weird way some towns become aware and fall for a band. We had one of our top two biggest crowds and they were excited to see us. They demanded extra encores (“Majestic 12” and “Muscle Cars”) and gave us a night to fill us up enough to power through the last three shows. (Hopefully! We’re really tired)

Tomorrow is Birmingham.

*”Run Silent, Run Deep.” Read it. Watch it.