leidenschaftontour

[leidenschaftontour]

Another dimension.

I tried to keep these entries up as much as possible, but in the end I failed. That has two reasons. One being that the last day was too hectic to make time for this. The other one being that a lot has happened on the last two days, that I can’t talk about. At least not in detail. You might have noticed that so far, I didn’t give you any juicy backstage stories. That’s because there aren’t and even if there were any, I would still say that there aren’t. That’s not the point of this thing. Not to me, at least. What I wanted to do here, and I only realised this once I started writing, was not to give you an insight about what life on tour is all about, but an insight in how I experience all of this. Which makes all actions of third parties completely irrelevant. So I get to decide what I think you should and shouldn’t know. I’ll try and order my thoughts about the last couple of nights, but please forgive me if I ramble now and again. I’m writing this at 05h46 being awake for almost 23 hours by now. So let’s see, where should I start?

Maybe where we left off. Our Amsterdam show was in a place called Pacific Park, a restaurant/bar (but mainly a restaurant) in the Westerpark right outside the city. Westerpark is a nice area that’s pretty new, or so it feels. A couple of years back I saw Editors here, playing in an old gasworks plant. As it was a restaurant, it had a weird vibe when we played there. Maggot Heart was on first and played a really good gig for a not very energetic crowd. It was the same case when Reveal played, but being as tired as I was after drive orchestrated by Satan that day, I went to the backstage and decided to rest my eyes for a minute. It turned out that I passed out for about an hour. And I don’t like that, because the backstage could only be opened by venue staff or from the inside and as I was the only person inside when Reveal got off stage, they couldn’t get in, while it was my job to open the door for them. Apparently they knocked and shouted, but to no avail. Once the staff let them in they found me, curled up on two chairs I put together. They tried to wake me by shouting at me and pushing me, but I didn’t give any sign of life. They said it was quite scary.

But what I thought was scary, was that I felt like I woke up in another dimension. The last thing I saw before passing out was a bunch of Dutchies calmly watching a show, so I couldn’t believe my eyes when I went into the hall and could see everyone from above. There was loud punk music and everybody, about 30 people were dancing and swinging like they were partying to a big band playing. That stiff crowd was all over the place and each other, not only in a straight way and for the first time in my life I saw two persons enter the same stall of a toilet. I have to stress that this was the crowd, the regulars of that place. If you ever end up in Amsterdam and want to go to a wild party, Pacific Park might be the place to go. Another thing that blew my mind, was that at 02h15 I wanted to start load out, but wasn’t allowed. This guy from the venue just tells me, like it’s the most logical thing in the world: “no, no, no, you can’t load out! We’ll get noise complaints. The music stops at 03h00, then you can leave. But before that? No. We have a lot of problems with the neighbours.” And that was it. As I was still recovering from the comatose state I was in, I just laughed out loud and walked away.

In Oberhausen the next day it was Linnéa’s birthday, so obviously that had to be celebrated. We got “champagne” and a cake from a shop and after the show we surprised her with it. The fact that she started crying says a lot about the state we were all in by this time. You see, when the only time you’re completely alone is when you take a shower or sit on the toilet and all of the other time, you’re either sitting in a van, a small backstage dressing room or sleeping with at least four other people in someone’s living room, you start to get annoyed at every little thing the rest might do, but on the same time, you get in sync. Everybody’s on that same flow of lack of sleep, long travels and shitty food. So that togetherness, that oneness, in which everything you experience is by definition also experiences by the eight other people around you, in combination with that lack of sleep gives for emotional breakdowns. They can be happy, sad or angry. She had her happy one, we had a couple of semi-sad ones and I had an angry one. But I think our last day deserves a post dedicated to itself. It wouldn’t be right to throw that in here.

But before I stop, I want to bring up one more thing. I told the guys to start packing up and when five minutes later I went into the room to see how it was coming along, I heard them play music. At first I was a bit annoyed, because I wanted to go to bed see I walked up to the stage to tell them off, but then I realised this wasn’t the ordinary picture. You see, the bass and the guitar player of Maggot Heart took up drums and bass, while the drummer and bass player from Reveal both played the guitar. And I was absolutely stunned to see how they mastered these instruments. They were doing a blues jam and I just sat there listening to what they were playing for twenty minutes. Of course, they lived the life of every jam session: they came to live hesitantly, grew in intensity, exploded into musical magic but then slowly died out once that magic expired. But I can tell you this: that’s when you realise you’re working with musicians.

[leidenschaftontour]

Feeling rough.

It happened: the first time I have to force myself to start writing. I’m so tired. The gigs yesterday were in The Devonshire Arms, a metal bar in Camden and we stayed on mattresses and sofas above the bar, accompanied by cats, making it my favourite backstage of the tour. As I said before, when we played Göteborg, the only problem with having accomodation in the same place as the gig, is that there tend to be after-parties. Even I got seduced to ordering my first Jack Daniel’s whisky of the tour. Actually, technically it were two, as I doubled it up. But surely, being disciplined as I am, I went to bed by 00h30 and had a good, deep sleep. Until I woke up in hell.

The first time I woke up was at 03h20. I was sleeping on the floor in a room next to the kitchen and was awoken by loud, drunk conversations in there. But that’s nothing my earphones and some Tannhäuser can’t fix, am I right? So, I got my earphones out and discovered everyone's worst nightmare. The little rubber top was gone from one of the buds. Using only one soon turned out to not be an option, so I had to settle for pushing that hard thing inside my ear. And yes, I soon enough fell asleep. About half an hour later, the rest was ready for bed, but being in the state they were in, seemingly forgot I was in there. I ignored them, but when the casual loud conversation, with the lights on kept going on for almost 45 minutes, in which I dozed off constantly, a mere “guys, come on” turned out to be enough to make them realise they were being bit rowdy. Peace was restored and I went back to sleep.

Until fifteen minutes later, I was awoken again. This time not by conversations, but by a snoring competition that was going on between two of the guys with whom I shared the room. One of them was out of my reach, but the other one was on the same mattress as I was. The depth of one’s sleep is always a good indicator to see how intoxicated he was before he passed out. As I was able to push, punch and kick him, in order to make him stop snoring in my ear, to no avail, I guess he must’ve partied really hard. Holding his nose didn’t help either, so I just gave up and blasted music through my ears, making it too loud to get a decent sleep, but allowing me to drift off regularly.

When I woke up, fifteen minutes to load out (getting the gear out of the venue and into the van), there was no sign of life in either my room or the other. Having already made myself clear about being too late after partying, I deliberately waited until there were only five minutes left. Some phone alarms went off but were turned off by people who managed to perform that action without waking up. When the time had come, I turned on the light, started clapping loudly and informed them they had five minutes before load out. Ten minutes later the first zombies stumbled down the stairs and started loading the van, but in the end we left twenty minutes later than planned. I was wondering how I could punish them for this repeated offence and came up with a brilliant idea. That it was brilliant soon proved to be the case. After fifteen minutes in the car, I got asked when we could stop to get breakfast. I calmly explained that there would be no breakfast stop and we were going straight to Folkestone. Not because we weren’t going to be on time, we arrived 50 minutes before boarding, but because they were late. Let’s hope they got the message this time.

At the tunnel terminal we had time to get something to eat and I had the worst English breakfast ever. The rest of the journey was horrible as well. The estimated travel time was seven hours, it took ten. There was an accident on the ring road of Antwerp (what else is new) and with the consequences of ignoring Google Maps yesterday in mind, I took a detour to go through the toll tunnel. But a lot of other people saw that as a solution as well and that combined with the roadworks, resulted in a 45 minutes delay, which was still only half as the estimated one on the normal route. But that also meant going past Rotterdam and The Hague. By then it was about 17h00 and sure enough from Rotterdam to Amsterdam I moved, or should I say strolled, from congestion to congestion. So yes, I’m really tired. And today’s show is an odd one in the sense that there is no stage time. The earliest we can go on is 23h00, but preferably later. I don’t think I’ll be seeing my bed before 02h00, to be honest. Luckily tomorrow should be an easy day. We’re going to Oberhausen, which is a 200km drive and, if traffic is nice to us, should only take two hours. They expect us to be there by 15h00, so I hope I can catch up on some sleep, because the last drive is going to be a tough one as well.

[leidenschaftontour]

Magical music. Musical magic.

Accomodation: F1 Hotel, Saint-Dénis. When I read these words on the info sheet, I was sure that would be the day I die. It would be my first time in both the most notorious low-budget hotel and Parisian suburb. They I stand in life, is that I always have the worst expectations about everything. If things go down as bad as I imagined them to be, I’m shrug and comfort myself with the thought that I knew it all along. When I’m wrong, I’m happy through the pleasant surprise. Sure, Saint-Dénis is grim, but hotel had a secure parking lot. No wandering around those streets necessary. Yes, the F1 Hotel is the absolute basics of comfort: you get two sheets, one to cover the mattress and one to cover yourself and meanwhile protecting your body from the duvet. They don’t provide towels, so after my shower I had to dry myself with a t-shirt. The shower itself was so small and plastic, that I felt like being inside an airplane or a train or something. But, truth be told, the bed itself had one of the most comfortable mattresses of the tour so far. I slept like a rose.

Our route to Calais took us north-west out of Paris, passing by Amiens. It was one of those beautiful icy mornings where it doesn’t appear foggy, yet everything has a white gleam to it. The road crossed these stretched out sloping landscapes and it was really peaceful. We arrived in Coquelles to check-in for the Eurotunnel. As I was the driver, I got checked at the registration, but my passenger had to leave and go through customs. One guy, being not European had to fill in some forms, but apart from that there were no troubles. We had time to get some lunch in the terminal and I ordered myself two chili cheeseburgers at Burger King. When I started to eat the burger, I however noticed it had only one beef patty instead of the advertised two. So I did what every sensible person would and went back there to demand my meat. I had to prove to them that it said ‘two’, but in the end I got what I wanted. Our train was perfectly on time and we set off from Folkestone to London.

Suddenly my GPS told me to take an exit. I ignored it. I know the way to London, it’s just straight ahead, right? Less than 1 kilometre later, I was stuck. Turns out there are massive roadworks around Ashford and they only let a certain amount of vehicles pass at certain times. So, because I ignored my GPS, telling me to take some secondary roads, we spent 1h20 to drive 15km. Our timing wasn’t affected, but it’s not a very pleasant thing to happen. Personally, I don’t care, there’s no point in getting frustrated about it as there’s nothing you can do but wait. So I turned off the engine and started reading an essay by Schopenhauer about happiness. I didn’t read that much, but I love how this genius man still blows my mind everytime I read something of him. Allow me to quote a part of the essay I was reading (you can find the complete text here):

“There is no doubt that life is given us, not to be enjoyed, but to be overcome—to be got over. There are numerous expressions illustrating this—such as degere vitam, vita defungi; or in Italian, si scampa cosi; or in German, man muss suchen durchzukommen; er wird schon durch die Welt kommen, and so on. In old age it is indeed a consolation to think that the work of life is over and done with. The happiest lot is not to have experienced the keenest delights or the greatest pleasures, but to have brought life to a close without any very great pain, bodily or mental. To measure the happiness of a life by its delights or pleasures, is to apply a false standard. For pleasures are and remain something negative; that they produce happiness is a delusion, cherished by envy to its own punishment. Pain is felt to be something positive, and hence its absence is the true standard of happiness.” Arthur Schopenhauer - Counsels & Maxims, Part I: General Rules (1851)

Being the driver, I have the privilege of being the DJ as well. Sometimes I use my headphones, for example when listening to opera or podcasts, but most of the time I will play music through the speakers. As I spend so much time on the road, inspiration often drives me to music I haven’t listened to in ages. Falling under that category, I listened to the fantastic debut album by The Joy Formidable. I was a big fan when it came out and saw them live a couple of times, but the two later releases never really moved me or anything. But while I was listening to this album, the magical power that only music seems to have came into action. I was catapulted back to the time when I was so into this album. I felt like I felt back then: young, ambitious and happy. Of course I now know that when we think of the past, we only recall the scenes of those times, but not how we actually felt. Because then too, I was troubled with all sorts of desires and strivings, but they have disappeared and been replaced by new ones. So what’s left is the memory of the good times. And through the music, through that song and those specific lines or melodies, I was lifted out of the present and sent back seven years. Those magic moments go by as quickly as they erupt, but the aftershocks of those unexpected waves of melancholic nostalgia are true moments of bliss. It was round up with one of my traditions, or call it rituals. Driving into London, heading for the Blackwall Tunnel, you see the Isle of Dogs lying in front of you, with all its skyscrapers, with Canary Wharf being the highest. And then you put on that album and smile when Tom Smith whispers in your ears:

I swear to God, in this light and on this evening, London has become the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.

[leidenschaftontour]

Paris, I love you (but you’re bringing me down).

Let’s start with a huge cliché: You don’t know what you had until it’s taken away from you. When people say this, they often refer to family or friends that have died or some kind of happiness. Today, I say it because the absolute lack of comfort is starting to take its toll. But I have to admit, I’ve always been very spoiled. In the past I always toured with bands that had either a budget to provide hotels, often even with a room for myself or hired the magical nightliner tour bus, where you go to sleep somewhere along the road and wake up in the next city. On this tour we have the promotors (remember, the organisers) provide our accommodation. And as these gigs aren’t the biggest ones, that means the budget is equally limited. So far we’ve slept in hostels (make your own bed), band apartments (five beds, one room) or in “private accommodation” (here’s an airbed, a mattress and a couch, pick one). Needless to say that results in a lot of uncomfortable beds, cold rooms and an absolute absence of privacy. And it’s surprising how few days it takes for that to start weighing you down.

Another problem with this situation is that not all private accommodations can host nine persons. Meaning we get spread out. Last night in Antwerp, Maggot Heart and myself were in one place, Reveal in another. Unfortunately the residents of that house had to leave for work at 8h30, meaning Reveal had to leave the house at 08h30 as well, with our scheduled departure time at 10h00. The traffic situation being what it is in Antwerp these days, it would take me at least 40 minutes to pick them up in the morning and bring them to our place. A 20 minute walk would bring them to us, so it made sense to agree that they would walk to our place. I left them with the address but at 08h45 I received the dreaded, but expected phone call: we’re lost. So I got out of bed, got dressed and went to look for them. Because of traffic and being stuck behind a garbage truck, it took me 40 minutes to reach them and then another 15 minutes to get back to our place. I got back in, grabbed my stuff and we set off to Antwerp, without my very necessary morning shower.

I was nineteen years old by the time I first went to Paris. It was to see Editors play at Le Bataclan. We arrived just in time and afterwards we took a little road trip through the city where my friends showed me the main landmarks. Ever since then I’ve been to Paris so many times I can’t even remember how many. The first times I always went out exploring, but I never got it. I had a lot of trouble catching the vibe. But in december 2014 I was part of the crew for a stage adaption of ‘The Wizard of Oz’ and so I spent about two weeks in this city and that’s when I fell in love with it. You see, as with many other cities, you only see them when they sleep. Discover a city by night, without the distractions of traffic, inhabitants or tourists, but see the city as it is and let it tell you its story.

That being said, my love for Paris only starts the moment I get out the van. It’s not the driving that concerns me. I even think I’m actually quite good at driving in this mad traffic. The first time I did, I was racing of Place de la Concorde at 16h00 with a GPS that refused service the moment I entered the square. I’ll tell you, the rush of adrenaline was incredible. Anyway, so it’s not the driving, but the parking I hate. Or should I say, the lack of parking. There is one (1!) secure parking in Paris that fits a van. When I was here last time, that meant walking 30 minutes from the hotel to pick it up. The venue we’re at right now, Le Klub, is at La Chapelle. I’ve been here once before, back in may 2014, with a band called White Lung. There’s no parking spot in front of the venue. So you bring the car to a stop in the middle of the road and get your shit in/out of it as fast as possible because there will be someone waiting behind you. It then takes 13 minutes to get back there. Last time, a guy from the venue accompanied me and took me to a street nearby which had some parking spots in front of hotels. He then told me: this is where you can park. I replied that there was no space available. He smiled at me and said: “So you wait until someone leaves. That’s how it’s done.”. In 2014 that meant sitting there for 40 minutes, this time I was lucky as it only took 10 before someone pulled out.

[leidenschaftontour]

On gratification, passing time and homesickness.

I told you yesterday that our venue looked like a squat. Turns out it actually was. We were all a bit worried about this show: a sunday afternoon in Kiel of all places, but it was actually a lot of fun. It wasn’t a very big crowd, yet the ones there enjoyed every single second of the shows and gave all they had. Both Maggot Heart and Reveal played a really good show, my favourite show so far. To be fair: both have been getting better night after night. It’s always very satisfying to see that happen. The first shows of a tour the shows always feel very rehearsed, by show after show they become more dynamic and alive. There are two things that give me the gratification of a good job: a happy crowd and happy musicians. And feeling and seeing that unique magic happen is my absolute privilege in this work. Afterwards we went to a bar, it being only 21h00 I went with them and had a beer (and a shot of vodka) myself, before going to bed.

It was important to get a good sleep, as we had a 7h trip ahead of us with our destination being Antwerp. My two roommates came back around 02h30 and for the next six hours, one of them was aiming for the world record of non-stop snoring. Luckily, I have the ability to, and actually always, sleep with my earphones plugged in, almost always listening to some podcast or classical music, putting a 20min timer on my phone before it stops the music. I had to repeat this process three times in the course of the night. So in the morning I got up, had a shower and went to pick up the others at two other addresses. We had breakfast, went to the venue to pick up our stuff and hit the 640km long road.

When you have a day job, you work for about 7-8 hours a day, most people spend that time in front of a computer, sitting behind a desk. Today I spent 7 hours driving. Whoever has done that, knows that’s a long time. When you’re roadtripping with your partner or some friends, you can let someone else take the wheel. I can’t. There’s two reasons for that: the first being that I’m being paid to do that and the second that I’m the only insured driver of the rental vehicle. So I have to be very responsible so I can manage these drives, but also find things to help me pass the time. I obviously get to listen to a lot of music. I discover or rediscover a lot of records and artists. But sometimes the music just makes you too tired. Then I put on my special weapon: stand-up comedy. I promise you, whenever you’re driving and feel like falling asleep, take a short break, walk around, get a drink and when you return to your car, go to Spotify or YouTube and put on a comedy show. I can’t back this up scientifically, but my guess is that your brain interacts with what’s being said, keeping you focussed and laughing releases some endorfines or whatever chemical stuff your brain sends out, making it impossible to feel tired. Today I listened to a philosophical podcast about Schopenhauer’s take on art & music.

We’re in Antwerp now. In Belgium, the country I live in. That’s always a weird feeling, because you know you’re so close to home, but I won’t get there for another week. Apart from being so close to some, you also realise how close you are to your friends and family, yet you won’t see them either. Sure, they could come to the show, but then they come to my workplace, to watch a band they probably won’t care about, spending money on getting here and getting home late on a monday night. I don’t expect this of my friends. I think I’m pretty good at not feeling homesick or whatever, but it’s ironic how that feeling tends to show it’s ugly head when you’re closest to home. I already know I’ll feel like shit when tomorrow, on the way to Paris, I’ll drive past Ghent and not take the exit I would take if I were to go home.

[leidenschaftontour]

Hierarchy

I personally believe tiredness is the most dangerous thing on tour. Apart from that there’s malnutrition and getting ill, but I think all three of them are connected like a triangle. But when you get a good night sleep, you might be able to overcome the other two. Tired people tend to be a more easily annoyed, so it can result in being in a worse mood and worse moods are contagious. When someone who’s tired is being rude or short against someone who is also tired, that second person will probably feel more offended then he normally would. We are getting tired. I am getting tired. But I think we’re doing great so far. One of the musicians said that he was getting really annoyed earlier but knew it was because of tiredness and sucked it up, realising that there’s no point in working that out on someone else. I was having a rough night yesterday, because of the tiredness and another late show. I felt I was in a bad mood because of it, so I then tend to isolate myself from the rest. During the show I went down to the dressing room, just to closes my eyes for a while. By 01h00 I was in bed in our hostel on walking distance of the venue.

The guys didn’t feel like sleeping yet, so they decided to go out. We agreed to meet at 08h45, so I got up at 08h00, got a shower and when I got back into the room found my two roommates still in bed, having slept through their alarm. They got up to get ready and I went to get the van, which was still at the venue. When there’s no secure parking, there’s only one way to prevent your worstnightmare from happening, namely getting your gear stolen. You back it up against a wall and when there’s no wall, well, you get creative. When I got to the hostel, my two roommates were ready by lobby call (the time when everyone has to be ready), but of the other six, who were in the same room, no sign of life. I went to see where they were and found all of them passed out in bed. That’s when you have to do the things you don’t want to, namely be a dick.

Let me tell you something about the complex hierarchy on tour. So I’m a tourmanager. I get hired by the band/booker/manager to take care things go as they should go. But it’s always the band paying me. That means, the band is my employer. At the same time, they pay me to make sure they get to places safe and on time. That means that I make the decision on when we leave, so I become kind of their boss. So when things don’t go as they should, because the rules or agreements we’ve made aren’t followed, I’m put in the position where I have to reestablish order by drawing lines. I have to tell off the people who employed me. You see where I’m getting at? In fact, I have no authority over them at all, but I have to establish a position in which I am respected. That’s not always that easy. It’s happened to me that a band would tell me to fuck off and continued doing as they liked. I can accept that, but to me that also means the end of me taking responsibility. So this morning I had to do this thing I hate, telling off six of my musicians for having had a little bit too much fun and not following the agreements. In fact, there’s nothing more I can do then hope I gained enough respect to be listened to.

Right now we are in Kiel. We play in this venue that looks like a squat, full of graffiti and anarchist slogans. The place is freezing and is only heated by a wooden stove, which you can see on the left side of the picture indoors. We’ve got an amazing welcome with warm food, fruit and loads of drinks, basically everything we request on our rider. It’s an early show tonight, with the first band going on at 17h00 and the other two gigs starting at 18h00 and 19h00. I had some time to kill and decided to go into town to do some laundry. Sometimes when you’re on tour, you’ll end up in venues that have laundry machines or sleep in hotels that offer laundry service. The limited amount of clothes I carry has almost run out, but the plan was to pick some fresh ones up tomorrow when we’re in Belgium, but due to unforseen circumstances that’s probably not happening anymore. So here I am, living the rock & roll life, sitting in a launderette on a Sunday afternoon in Kiel. Life is absurd.

[leidenschaftontour]

Birds of Prey

I don’t like late shows. The time until the bands go on goes by very slowly, most of the time. You also get tired because of the waiting. I also think they called the venue Truckstop Alaska, because it’s freezing in there, which didn’t really lighten my mood either. But fortunately, my happiness in a certain situation is often not important. What is, is how my bands and the audience are feeling. And they were great. They had a lot of fun hanging out and Maggot Heart played their best show so far. By 01h15, the band got off stage.

When you’re accomodated in the venue, things tend to go a little bit different than they normally do. In a regular scenario, you play the show, you chill out for a little while, pack up, load the van and go to the hotel. When it’s like this, everything goes to the chill out part and tends to forget about the packing up one. Knowing they weren’t very likely to go to bed early, I decided I wanted everyone to break down their gear that night. I could already see it happen: a bunch of hungover and tired musicians who’ve spent the night partying that have to start packing up their gear in the morning. No-go. They agreed with me and did what they had to do. The loading of the van could wait until the next day.

When you don’t have to leave the venue, there’s obviously a lot more partying going on. That’s really good fun, I truly mean that, especially when you can join in on the fun. But when you’re the one who’ll be driving the next day, going hard isn’t an option. See I’ve only had two beers, of which one was a really good local porter beer called Carnegie. I went to bed at about 03h00. I picked a bunk bed in another room than everyone else, but unfortunately, that bed was situated above the backstage toilet and the room had no door. I feel asleep quite fast, but I woke up several times because of the party going on next door in the kitchen or people going to the toilet. I always passed out within ten seconds and I’m really not the one to complain about stuff like that. I want my bands to enjoy themselves and they were clearly doing so.

The road to Copenhagen was another 3h30 drive. Driving south along the coastline, it didn’t take long for the snow to disappear from the Swedish landscapes. The last couple of days I noticed how few birds I saw along the motorway, but as soon as the brownish grass (from being covered by the snow, I assume) started to reappear, there they were, sitting on stakes next to the road or circling above the fields. Do you ever watch the outer side of the road when driving? You’d be surprised by the amount of beautiful birds of prey you’ll see. I’m not an ornithologist, so I don’t know them by name, but I always look at them in awe. I also noticed the geese that were flying back north in V-formation. Winter is over.

Driving to Denmark means driving over this massive bridge over the sea, which you may know from the original version of the tv series ‘The Bridge’. The bridge is 9km long, with the road being 57m above the sea and is followed by a 4km long tunnel. I’ve timelapsed that crossing and also the arriving in Copenhagen, you can find it HERE. I’ve only been to Copenhagen once and then I didn’t have time to go out exploring. Neither will I this time, because we leave town at 09h00 tomorrow morning. It’s a shame, because it looks like a beautiful city. And then I’m not even mentioning the ridiculously beautiful people who live in this city. What a shame.

[leidenschaftontour]

Truckstop Alaska

After my walk, I went to a metal bar to check if the band was still there. They were, so I stayed for a drink. Normally a pint in Oslo will cost you about €10. But here we were, in this bar where the bartender was a friend of Linnéa, the singer of Maggot Heart, giving me a beer at a 50% discount. What a hero. I went to bed around 2 o’clock and as I said, my internal alarm did its job: I woke up at 9h, 30 minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off. We agreed on leaving at 11h30, so there was time to get some breakfast. I did some googling and stumbled upon this all day breakfast place, which at night transforms into a cocktail bar just around the corner, called Gunnars Generasjonsbar. I ordered sveler, which are Norwegian pancakes, famously served around the west-coast as snacks for ferry travelers. The pancakes came with berries and maple syrup (I wasn’t brave enough to order the other option, sour cream and caramelized cheese), amazing bacon and a poached egg. And it was amazing.

The drive was nice and easy: 3h30 may seem to you like a long time, but it’s nothing when you’re used to 5-7h drives. The venue we are at now is called Truckstop Alaska. When I saw this on the tour schedule, there was a feeling of “sweet mother of God” going through my head. The mental picture I had was this gas station/restaurant/bar, with flickering neon saying Al*ska because one of the lights broke, next to the motorway with nothing else to be seen. When I would go in, I would see a bunch of fat, hairy bikers sitting at the beer, sipping beer and smoking cigarettes. The women present would be meth addicts in short, ripped clothes. Yes, I just described a cliché American truckstop somewhere in the desert as you would see it in a movie. Maybe the customers would transform into vampires like in ‘From Dusk Till Dawn’.

Upon arrival, I had to turn into a parking lot on the edge of Götheborg, in an industrial park. There are two lovely dogs running around the venue and the in-house crew is amazing. We got a very rich get-in meal buffet. They’re helpful and we even got everything that’s on our rider. Not that our rider is that spectacular, but this will be the first night that the band will get their requested bottle of vodka. Apart from that we only require some fruit and vegetables, bread with cheese or ham, water and beers. Nothing too fancy, right? Related to our hospitality rider, I actually forgot to tell you this story.

Remember that in Stockholm, our show was the first one in this new venue? The place was a construction site during the day and things weren’t running as smoothly as they normally do, but they did everything they could to help us out as much as possible and I have no complaints whatsoever. Our dressing-room was in the basement/utility room. There were two fridges there and they filled them with our beers, telling me to ask for more whenever these were finished. When I did that, they started to fulfil this request, when someone comes in, all stressed and discusses something in Swedish. Turns out their manager was furious. The venue had a license for serving alcohol (Scandinavia and alcohol-legislation is a funny thing), but apparently this license, here it comes, didn’t cover the basement. There was also a dressing room in a container outside and alcohol was allowed back there, but not in our (warm) dressing room. I swear, this is what happened. I couldn’t even come up with this story. When they explained it to me, there was nothing else I could do then laugh out loud and tell them “well, I guess if that’s it, then that’s it…”. So they took away our beer and gave us coupons instead, so we could order beer when we wanted to. And to consume it at the beer, ofcourse.

Our dressing room/bedroom at Truckstop Alaska in Götheborg.

[leidenschaftontour]

Wanderers don’t get lost.

Remember when I said I barely get to see any of the cities I work in? Well, sometimes I get lucky. Like here, in Oslo. That means all these boxes are ticked: venue in the city centre, hotel in the city centre, late check-out and a short drive. So then there are three options. You can go to bed and have a nice long night of sleep. But because of your internal clock, you’ll probably wake up after 7 hours of sleep. You can go out and slam some beers. But then you’re hungover the next day and beers cost about €10/pint in Oslo. You could also go and lie down in bed with a book or a series, to relax. But then, you can do that at home as well. So I went for the other option: walk around through a city you don’t know at night. It’s one of my favourite things to do, especially when on tour. The city is silent, or as silent as cities get, and you just kind of wander around aimlessly. Five years ago, when I was in Oslo with Tom McRae, I actually also did this. Back then, it had a sketchy vibe, with drug dealers and prostitutes on every corner. But that was May. Now it was snowing, -2℃ and a night in February. I walked to the opera building, climbed the roof and then crossed the city to the Royal Palace. All in all I was out for almost two hours, walking about 6km. It’s my ultimate travel tip: wander through the city at night. And remember: A wanderer never gets lost.

It was snowing when I decided to head out. The orange building in the background is Revolver, the venue we played.

The Oslo Opera House is a marvellous piece of modern architecture and was built in 2008.

The Opera House was built next to the water, in which there’s a sculpture resembling cracked ice.

You can climb the roof and get some views of the city. In the first picture you can see the modern office buildings I mentioned in my previous post.

Right in the centre of the city, there’s the Norwegian Parliament (picture 1). When you follow the road, you end up in the City Park, that has the Royal Palace in it. When the flag flies over the building, the king is at home. There are no fences in front of the door, but there are armed guards that were keeping watch.

[leidenschaftontour]

The Slow Road to Oslo

I finally managed to get some sleep. Only 7h, but better that’s almost more than the two nights before combined. As expected, there was no strolling around Stockholm possible, but we drove through it and I looks absolutely stunning. It doesn’t happen a lot that I want to spend more time in a city than I do when on tour, but this was an exception. We had another 7h drive ahead of us, with our destination being Oslo. It basically meant crossing all of Sweden again, but more up north than yesterday. Which means it was mostly the same scenery as yesterday. Except with more ice. I said we would drive past the biggest lake in the EU and we did, but I didn’t see it. All I saw was an enormous stretch of snow on top of the ice that covered the lake. I’ve never seen that much ice in my life. I also have to watch out not to crash the car when we drive past rocks covered in ice, caused by the melting snow that trickles down them. It truly looks like the Wall in Game of Thrones.

Turns out Sweden also has hills, so coming closer to Oslo we started going up and down. We had a lunch break around 14h and with only 200km left to go, we set off. I noticed the ETA was 17h, which meant 3h for a distance that shouldn’t even take two. I soon found out why. There’s barely any motorway leading to Oslo from where we were coming in. 70km/h, if lucky 90 was the speed limit. I love driving long distances. But I want to feel I’m getting closer to my destination. Going that slow on those long roads soon become incredibly boring. My yawning was interpreted by my worried passengers as tiredness, but it was pure boredom. But there was nothing I could do, except activating cruise control, sit back and let time pass by.

We hit Oslo at rush hour, but congestion was quite ok, to be fair. When you come into Oslo, all you can see is just this block of ultra-modern fancy offices. I don’t know whether I liked that view or not, but it did instantly fascinate me. It’s freezing here. Literally. When surrounded by walls it’s doable, but when the wind can hit you, I swear, you’re cold from the moment you step outside. There was no catering provided by the venue for dinner, so they gave us buy-out instead. Buy-out is when they give you some pocket money so you can find some food somewhere. Most of the time that is around €15. So no drinks included. After two dull vegan curries the last two nights, I knew what I was getting. There was a hamburger joint just around the corner and my God, how I devoured that thing.

There’s not much more to say about today, having been in the car all day, so I’ll bring up something else. I finished my bundle of short stories by Murakami, called ‘Desire’, yesterday. There were only five, but it was the first time I read something by him. I liked it, but couldn’t really say why I did. Bringing this up with a friend, he gave a perfect description to what I couldn’t describe: Mild strangeness. One of the stories is about (SPOILER ALERT, but not really) a girl telling what happened on her twentieth birthday. She met a man who allowed her one wish. She’s telling this story to a guy and he asks her what she wished for. She doesn’t want to tell him, because you’re not allowed to say what you wished for. So she inverts the question:

She rested her elbow on the bar and looked at me. “Tell me,” she said. “What would you have wished for if you had been in my position?” “On the night of my twentieth birthday, you mean?” “Uh-huh.” I took some time to think about that, but I couldn’t come up with a single wish. “I can’t think of anything,” I confessed. “I’m too far away now from my twentieth birthday.” “You really can’t think of anything?” I nodded. “Not one thing?” “Not one thing.” She looked into my eyes again—straight in—and said, “That’s because you’ve already made your wish.

[leidenschaftontour]

Ice, snow and water

Yesterday, we played a show in Malmö. Tonight we’re in Stockholm. So that’s two cities in the same country. There’s everything to think you have an easy drive ahead of you and a relaxed day. So you go to Google Maps (how on earth were tours managed before this?), enter the data to see how long it’ll take you. Turns out, Sweden is actually a pretty big country. Malmö - Stockholm is 610km, which with the 110km/h speed limit is equal to about 6h15. Calculating stops and traffic, let’s make that 7h. And we had to be in Stockholm at 14h00. It was 01h00 when I went to bed, alarm set at 06h00. We left our apartment at 06h30, drove to the venue to pick up our stuff and left at 07h15. By the way: one thing a good road warrior should have, is amazing Tetris skills. Imagine this huge pile of boxes, cases and bags full of instruments, equipment, merch and luggage. And then you have this limited space in the back of your car. It means stacking everything in a well-thought-out fashion, filling every hole with whatever fits and then proudly stepping back and admire your creation.

As I said before, I’ve never driven in Scandinavia before. I was a passenger once and what I remember from that trip from Oslo to Copenhagen, through Sweden, was the grass. There were so many acres of stretched out plains of brownish grass. And that’s what I saw again, driving up north towards Helsingborg. From there I turned north-east in order to cross the country to Stockholm. It wasn’t long before we started to come across snow, but soon we got caught in this thick mist, through which you couldn’t even see the side of the road. When it cleared up, there was only snow and trees. If we weren’t passing through massive pine woods confined from the road by rock covered in icicles, there were huge fields covered in snow. I truly love snow, so this was like driving through paradise for me. And in those massive white surfaces, it was really easy to spot grazing deer. As everyone basically slept for the entire drive, I can’t help but getting some kind of kick out of the idea that they didn’t see them and my sacrifice (well, my job, actually) was rewarded with some of this natural magic. On the other hand, 6 out of 8 are Swedish and probably hate deer with a passion, like this fella.

I’ve got this pretty cool timelapse video of a part of the route, but I can’t figure out how to embed it, so just click HERE if you want to see it.

From Jönköping, the motorway runs along lake Vättern, up until Ödeshög, which is about 70km. I was instantly intrigued by this huge mass of water, so obviously, upon arrival, I wanted to know all about it and thanks to Wikipedia (how on earth did people survive without getting instant facts before this?) I’m now going to bore you with the details. Vättern is the second largest lake in Sweden and the 6th largest in Europe. It has a surface area of 1912km² (Flemish Brabant, excluding Brussels is 2106km²), but a catchment area (so surface covered) of 4503km² (which is as good as Hainaut and Walloon Brabant - for the Belgian readers - combined). The maximum depth is 128m, the average 41m. The largest lake in Sweden, the largest in the European Union and 3rd largest in Europe, is Vänern. And guess alongside what I’ll be driving tomorrow?

So here in Stockholm, we play the first show in this new/moved venue called Slaktkyrkan. And with new, I mean that this place is still a construction site. Our dressing room is in the basement with a bunch of loud machinery, that they intend to cover up but just haven’t come to doing so as of yet. At least it’s warm. We also have a rather early show and we only have to leave around 10h tomorrow, so who knows I’ll get a chance to see a little bit of Stockholm. Earlier, I had to bring the drummer to a music shop to fix something on the drum and thus got the chance to look around a bit, but of course we both know I won’t. Shame, it looks like a city I might like. I mean, they have an actual outdoor ski-slope at the edge of the city. You might wonder why I don’t spend my time writing this walking around instead. Well, that’s A) because I have to be here as I’m the communication point between band and venue and B) because, as so many times, the venue is like 5km out of the city centre. I’ve been to Prague twice and never saw more than the venue we played, which was the same both times. When I went to Rome a couple of months ago for the first time ever, both venue and hotel were in the outskirts of the city. People often ask me dreamingly “so how is it like, to see all those places?”. Well, here’s your answer. Thank God that I’m the driver and get to see the country, instead of the cities.

[leidenschaftontour]

That’s rock & roll for you, kids.

As I told you yesterday, I put my shampoo and shower gel in my toolcase, which I checked in as luggage. So arriving at the security check in the airport, I didn’t think of the toothpaste, hair clay or lens fluid that was in my cabin luggage. So obviously I had to open it, resulting in a funny moment because positioned right in the middle of my suitcase, was my copy of Schopenhauer’s ‘Essays & Aphorisms’. I couldn’t help thinking that if that had been a Quran, things might have gone way different. Ruben Block of Triggerfinger, accompanied by a guitar seemed to have business in Berlin as well. The flight was delayed 20min, but in classic Ryanair-style managed to land right on time. I passed the time reading a compilation of short stories by Murakami, called ‘Desire’ and once arrived in Berlin, I ordered my very first Uber. For some daft reason I decided to sit in the front, which made me feel awkward so I tried some small talk (”so... no snow here?”) but we soon came to the silent agreement that my German is way to limited, even for small talk about the weather. All in all my travel took five hours and three means of transport. Travelling, queueing, waiting and trying to pass the time? That’s rock & roll for you, kids.

I arrived at the flat of the singer and her boyfriend, who booked the tour, and was welcomed by him. We had a short conversation but it was time to get some sleep on my cosy airbed in their living room. Two hours and fifteen minutes after I’ve put my head down, it was time to get up and hit the road. Working on an insufficient amount of sleep? That’s rock & roll for you, kids.

I was happy to see it had snowed (maybe the small talk in my Uber wasn’t pointless after all) and enjoyed the walk around the block to get the van, in the deadly silent streets of Kreuzberg, the virginal snow crunching beneath my foot will small icy flocks fell on my head. Those of you who know me, know I have no connection with of love for Berlin, but I can’t deny that driving through those wide but empty streets with the snow falling down was magical. Getting to be enchanted on places that never moved you before? That’s rock & roll for you kids.

We had a 2h30 drive to Rostock, where we took the ferry to Trelleborg. There was an old, worn down lounge with reclining seats. The room was also airconditioned, but not heated. That meant that the six hours crossing was absolutely freezing. I managed to get four hours of sleep, but only after burying my head inside my jacket and pull up my legs so that, curled up in a ball my legs were warmed by touching my stomach. Finding the most comfortable position to get some rest in highly uncomfortable situations? That’s rock & roll for you, kids.

So you can imagine how good that shower was that I had at the promotor’s house, where we stay in Malmö. By the way: a promotor is the person who books and pays the band. If he doesn’t promote the show, he’ll lose money. Hence: promotor. After chilling out in our flat for an hour, I drove to the train station to pick up the other band, the Swedish Reveal and then we hurried to the venue, a basement called Plan B. This is where I’ve eaten for the first time since my dinner 22h30 before. Being very hungry and not really knowing when your next proper meal is going to be? That’s rock & roll for you, kids.

[leidenschaftontour]

Tour Diary: let’s try again

First of all: it’s been over four years since I’ve used this Tumblr. I won’t go to the trouble of reading or deleting what I’ve posted before. Feel free to join me in doing so.

A friend of mine keeps asking why I don’t keep a blog about being on tour. I told him that I think I won’t have a lot to say, as most of the touring days consist of getting from place A to B, followed by waiting from time X until Y. Yet, when he explained to me what things he wanted to read about, I started to consider it and now I decided to give it a try.

I’m writing this on the train between Ghent and Brussels. I’ve taken a lot of means of transportation on my commute to work so far, but today will be the first time I’ll fly to work and even though I’ve flown multiple times before, this one has a different edge to it. The main reason being that I’m bringing my toolcase as luggage and my clothes as cabin bag. That meant stuffing my Pelican case (as we call it) full of screwdrivers, wrenches and knives, my road printer, but also of shampoo and deodorant. It’s a funny thought that that’s what I’ll be handing over at the check-in, but I’m sure way crazier things have roll into airplanes on a daily basis.

I’ll be driving around and tourmanaging the band Maggot Heart on their European release tour. I’ll be on the road starting from today, 12/2, until saturday 24/2. In that time we have twelve shows, mostly in northern Europe. I’m pretty excited to be driving around Sweden a lot of the time as I’ve never been there. Actually, that is a lie. On my first tour with Tom McRae, back in 2013, we drove from Oslo to Copenhagen, through Sweden, but I must admit I slept almost the entire time.

So tonight I fly to Berlin. I should arrive by 23h00 and hope to make it to bed by 00h30. A bed I get in one of the band members house. I’ll knock their door, meeting them for the first time, but I’ll have to be rude and postpone the “getting to know each other” bit, because we have to leave by 04h00 in order to make our ferry. I guess the 6h ferry crossing will give plenty of time for making acquaintance.

So, we’ll see if I can keep up writing about stuff that happens. It might get boring, but then I might ramble about other sideline stuff. I actually hope it won’t get exciting on here. Because that will mean things have gone to shit. And that means problem solving and stress. But also adventure. And isn’t that what going on tour should be all about?

[leidenschaftontour]

Between now and then: Getting my career started

I haven’t written anything since coming of my tour with Tom McRae in May. Luckily that doesn’t mean I haven’t been up to anything though. The last couple of months I’ve been applying for loads of tours, all without success, but with a different approach I’m now slowly starting to get some work. In this post I’m going to talk about that process.

As I told you in my last entry, it was hard to get back to “the normal life”. I wanted to go back on tour as fast as possible and that urge is still there. Unfortunately all of my applications got ignored or rejected. I got close to getting a job on a couple of tours though, most notably with The Airborne Toxic Event. I worked for Tom when he played a gig in my hometown Bruges, but when the new concert season was about to kick off in September I was still without any upcoming work, so I realised chances that I would get on anything big before January were very slim.

In the last weekend of August I suddenly got a phone call from a friend who owns a company that takes care of the logistical support on events, asking if I was available to work for him as a stagehand. I agreed and the first job I did for him was an event for the opening of an apartment complex. There was an entertainment/cover band playing as well and my friend introduced me to their backline tech, whom he knew. We exchanged numbers and less than 24 hours later he rang me, asking if I was available to work for him that very day because someone was ill. That’s how I got my first proper gig, working as a backline tech at a Free Souffriau + Miguel Wiels Band concert. Not very rock & roll, but I was still very excited. We agreed that he would call me whenever he needed someone. I got a call once, but in the end the gig got cancelled. I haven’t heard from him since, but I haven’t been in touch either. Once the work that’s coming in my direction at this time is decreasing I’ll get back to him though.

In September I got my diploma from ACM and discovered I managed to get a distinction for my course Tourmanagement & Production. A couple of days later I signed up with Toursupport, a company that provides local and touring crew. I was invited for an application session and instantly got a good feeling about it. I could work as local crew on basically every Live Nation production in Belgium and there were prospects of getting into the touring crew as well. Two days later I did my first job, a load out for the musical production of Peter Pan in Forest National. It was very hard work which included taking down all the trusses with lighting gear, sound, projectors and scenery. Especially loading up a truck with what seemed like hundreds of heavy flight cases was intense. I caught myself thinking that this wasn’t what I had in mind, but signed up for all the other gigs on the calendar.

The next one I did was Fleetwood Mac. It was basically the same stuff as with Peter Pan, but more interesting to me. The production was also much more organised and I could pick up and learn a lot more. Obviously we also got to see most of the gig. These are long days, mostly starting about 9 or 10am for about four or five hours, to start again after the gig until about 2 or 3am. But apart from the hard work, it’s also good fun and very interesting. The crew gets along well and there’s a cool vibe hanging around the place while working. I did some more productions, including Jay-Z and this weekend even The Chippendales. But it was yesterday that I got the best offer so far.

I was asked if I was available to go to France from today (29-10) up until Friday to work as a backline tech for the one and only Arno. A last minute job offer like that got me dead excited instantly. I had to check if I could cancel another job I was going to do on Thursday for that friend of mine and he was alright with it. So tonight I’ll leave for France, going on a Nightliner tourbus for the very first time to do a gig. It’s only one show, so not a really big job, but still the most important since I got back to Belgium. I’m still buzzing with excitement and can’t wait to leave tonight.

So, the people who are interested got to read about my experiences since I got of the tour with Tom. I’ve been trying very hard to get work since then, without success. Then I decided to take a few steps down the ladder and wanted to start working to get myself back up again. This turned out to be a good decision. I realise this one job doesn’t mean I’ll get overwhelmed by offers instantly, but it’s a good start. A very good start.

[leidenschaftontour]

Tom McRae Tour Diary: Epilogue

So this was the story of my first ever tour. I hope you enjoyed reading it, even if it was only one entry. I'd like to thank you all for staying with me and sharing your thoughts about it. It's been almost a month since the tour ended and I didn't suffer from withdrawal at first. That was mainly because for the first three nights I was out with friends. But the fourth night I couldn't deal with myself. I couldn't sit still or stay focussed on something. It's funny that when I looked to the clock, it appeared to be 19h30, so starting from 19h I must've gotten the feeling. That's the time doors opened most of the time. I kept feeling like that for a couple of hours and all of a sudden I felt alright. It was a little bit past midnight, the average time by when we've completed load out. Strange how your body picks up on that rhythm so well. 

  By now, I'm not suffering from withdrawal anymore , but I sure miss it like hell. I keep telling people anecdotes or using lines and inside jokes. My girlfriend sighed a couple of times already asking me when that'll stop. Probably not until my next tour. Last week I caught up with David, who was on holiday in Bruges. It was great to see him again and I can't wait until I see him at Rock Werchter in three weeks. Or when Tom comes to play in Bruges. 

I'm going to end this with telling you that what they've told me is true: touring isn't for everyone, but when it's for you, it's very addictive. And I'm craving for a fix.

[leidenschaftontour]

Tom McRae Tour Diary: June 18th, 2013

It's always like that, isn't it? You keep up with something, until it's the last part. Then there's no pressure any more, 'cause there is nothing more to follow. So here it is, about three weeks after the tour has finished: my final diary. It's about the last three gigs we've done in Switzerland. Strangely enough, I hadn't been in Switzerland before so I was rather excited to see if it was as beautiful as people told me it would be. 

Zürich was a bit of a disappointment when it comes down to that. It felt as a city without personality. A bit weird considering it hasn't suffered from war like the rest of Europe has. The rest told me it was because we were in a new and trendy part of town. I believe them, but I have no desire of going back there. It was an early load-in and a late doors, so I had quite some time to kill. I did this by watching the episode of 'Never Mind The Buzzcocks' that features Tom. It's an old episode and he was never as funny or witty as he is in real life. He also destroyed some of the magic regarding the show for me by telling me about some stuff. This was also the first gig with a guy called Ryan Keen, who came from supporting Ed Sheeran and Leona Lewis. Ryan is a very nice guy and so is his drummer. With the merch stand a bit hidden away, me and Amy played '4 Pics 1 Word' for most of the time. That's a bit of a lie as we got stuck for ages and googled the answer in the end. We did stop during 'Strangest Land' to listen to some outstanding whistling. Normally Tom takes the piss out of the audience, but he too was completely confused by their talent. 

We left for Lausanne the next day, the final stop of this tour where Tom played two gigs at Le Bleu Lezard. I always thought the ending of a tour was the most impressive gig of all. It wasn't. It was this small bar in a cellar with crappy sound equipment and no backstage area. But there was a lovely staff. We suffered from some stupid technical problems. For example Tom's looping pedal didn't work even though it did during change over. I also felt really bad. Or sad, I can't exactly remember. I think I hit what they call the "tour wall" after all. The next day we had some time to walk around. I like Lausanne. It reminded me a little bit of Luxembourg as it's a city with two levels. You can walk and look up to the next one or just look down with the lake of Genève in the background. Shame of all the dodgy looking types on the corners and beggars, but no city comes without them I suppose. 

Unlike what I'd expected, the last gig didn't feel like the last gig. I expected to feel a bit melancholic realising that I would hear songs, laugh at jokes and experience unique moments for the last time. I didn't. I think it's because you're still in a work state of mind. You know you can't allow that to happen, you have to stay focussed. It was only after the last piece of gear was put back into the van that I felt the "it's over"-feeling. We had a couple of beers in the bar, I had a nice talk about Smashing Pumpkins, My Bloody Valentine and Nine Inch Nails with the promotor and we said good bye to the in-house crew. We had some more drinks in our hotel room and left six hours later for the final drive of the tour.

They've dropped me off in Arras, where I took a train to Belgium. I hate good bye's, but I though it would've been alright. David kept slagging me off, trying to achieve his goal of making me cry before the end of the tour. Little did he know he almost triggered it when we said good bye. We had this big "thank you"-moment in front of the station when he completely serious told me how much he hoped that things would work out for me. I could feel it coming, but didn't let it come through. Then Tom handed me a bottle of single malt whisky. I didn't expect this at all and felt so sad when we had a final group hug. I waited to wave them goodbye when Tom sprinted out of the van again towards me. He was holding the violin bow I broke. I thought it got lost weeks ago. When he handed it over to me, I felt happy and sad at the same time. In the end I didn't cry, but it was a close call. 

[leidenschaftontour]

Well, the tour has finished two days ago, but I’m sticking to my promise to tell you everything. I’ll do this in two more posts: this one about the Dutch dates and one about the Swiss dates plus some kind of epilogue.

So the morning after Brussels we left for Eindhoven. I decided to take my girlfriend with us for another day so she could really get a taste of how my life had been the previous weeks. Unfortunately she might have a wrong picture about the hotels as the two hotels she stayed in were probably the nicest ones of the tour. We got a little bit of time to walk around and I had an ridiculously expensive pasta-to-go for lunch. We played at de Effenaar that night. It’s a really nice and quite high building with two concert rooms. Tom played the small one. We also got to do laundry in there. Right in time as that morning I ran out of clean socks. The merch stand was placed outside the room, but I could listen to the gig through some speakers in the corridor. Unfortunately it was a bit of an awkward experience as I could only hear the Front Of House mix and thus nothing coming from the audience. As Tom asks for a lot of crowd participation, it just sounded as every request resulted in total silence from the crowd. Later I heard that wasn’t the case. Back in the hotel we had a couple of Westmalle’s and in the room Silke let me listen to Allah-Las. If you like feelgood rock, check them out. We went to see them last night and it was really good.

Some of my favourite artists had been in our dressing room before.

  Before we left for Den Haag (The Hague) we dropped Silke off at the train station in Eindhoven. It must’ve been one of the easiest goodbye’s since august, knowing it was only for a week. Quite a difference compared to the 1,5-2 months periods we're used to. In the hotel I went for another first timer: I ordered room service. Asking David what to do with the dirty plate, I didn’t believe him at first when he said that I should just leave it on the floor outside the room. But apparently that is the way people do it. The venue, Paard van Troje (Trojan Horse), was really nice. It also had two rooms and Tom played the small one as well. It’s funny to see the confused look on the in house crew’s faces when they realise they can speak Dutch to me. Very enjoyable. The crowd was a bit rude in my opinion, especially during support act Rachel Louise. They never really made an effort to listen to her music and kept talking through everything. Even during Tom a certain number of people just kept on babbling. It really annoys me when people do that.

Thus far, the York gig was the only one in a church. Holland was bound to change that. First in line was Utrecht. This was, just as York, a church that’s been converted to a concert venue. Mainly for classical music. That meant that the PA system wasn’t ideal for a gig of this kind. But David wouldn’t be David if he didn’t get it to work. With the right amount of swearing off course. We also had good food that day. Twice. For lunch David and I went to an Italian restaurant near the Markt in Utrecht where I had a nice lambs ham salad. The venue booked us a table in a small restaurant nearby called ‘De Clochard’. The steak we had there was truly excellent with the meat almost melting in your mouth. Delicious! Amy and I were a bit tucked away in the venue and that in combination with the WiFi allowed us to watch football and the Eurovision semi-finale. The Eurovision trick would repeat itself in Amsterdam. It was fun to discuss what was happening by showing each other’s notes on our phones.

Tom's work of art called 'Teastick Steve & Fan'.

And then, for the first time in about eight years, I finally went back to Amsterdam. I went there with the scouts for about two and a half days and it always stayed with me as I city I truly loved. Over the years I heard more and more negative stories about it and I was aware that that might have been youthful naivety. But now, even after noticing the more dodgy stuff, I still stand by my opinion. I love Amsterdam. The small streets, the logical way how they are connected, the houses, … I started off walking around with a map, but after studying it for a while I tucked it away and took my chances on exploring without it. And even though I was only fourteen and a half years old when I was there for the last time, I could still remember certain points and was able to orientate myself, walking somewhere and knowing where I would end up. I love that feeling. We went for dinner in a place called Quatfass, near the Oosterpark, and it was truly amazing. It doesn’t look like a place to have good food, but the menu we had was of gastronomic quality and for a fair price, especially considering you’re in Amsterdam. If you’re ever near there, go and look for it. You won’t be disappointed.

The gig in Amsterdam the next day took place in De Duif. This was the third and last church of the tour and by far the most impressing one. It might have something to do with the fact that it’s still in use. The fresco’s, statues and pulpit worked almost intimidating. We wondered if Tom would do the massive swearing part during ‘Fuck You, Prometheus’, which he introduced in Eindhoven. And he surely did. That man is so going to hell. In the dressing room, I caught Tom while he was learning how to play 'Birds' by Anouk, the Dutch entry for the Eurovision. He was looking for a song where it would fit in to, but I don't think he managed in the end. We (Amie and I) also watched Eurovision that night. I was rooting for Finland and I couldn’t believe they ended that low, but that’s all I’m going to say about it. After the gig I decided I wanted to go out in Amsterdam for a little while longer, so I didn’t join the rest of the gang to the hotel. Instead I went to a bar friends had told me about, met a bunch of women from Ghent who were on a hen night and hung around with them for a couple of hours. I had a good time with them and arrived back at the hotel by four. As we had an eight hour journey to Zürich the next day, it didn’t really matter that I didn’t get a lot of sleep. But that’s for the next and final entry. We’re almost there, even though it’s already finished, just stick with me a little while longer.