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My little tour (by Econoline) Econoline is a four-piece band with an added appendage the four are… Piers Chandler - guitar Valentina Magaletti - drums Steve Morris - bass Ian Scanlon - guitar and singing and the extra added ingredient is Il Duce who rules the Farfisa with a rod of Iron (and answers to the name Antonio). Basically 2002 has been an odd year for the ec', what with Rowan leaving and subsequently our album getting put back and having to cancel a bunch of gigs in Holland, Scandinavia and up North. We needed to get back to what we know best... playing toilets to no one! So we had to find a new guitar man as frankly I am too lazy to play the guitar properly and I write the songs so why I should think of the interesting bits to play in them as well! So we did one show in April with the irrepressible Chris "I've been sick on my trousers" Summerlin. A great man, a hell of a man who, despite waking up on the morning of the gig and demanding to be allowed to die, managed to not only pull off a storming afternoon show at RoTa, but also chivvied me and Steve into going to the depths of south east London that night to watch Song Of Zarathustra in a pub full of mentalists shouting "wha' 'bout Palestine, Ya American bastards" at the rather bemused lads. Anyway mighty as he is he also lives in Nottingham which made it difficult for him to fit into the cycle of rehearsing/ going to the pub that we at ec' central believe engenders true "band spirit", "Homo Gestalt", or, "childish in jokery" as some may have it. So we cast our eyes about and lo, there was a man who could "do this thing". Piers is an old mate of mine, who actually played drums in Econoline before we even had the name, and he has a nice guitar, a lovely line in shirts, and a boundless enthusiasm for getting falling down drunk and watching Star Wars - all of which we share and needless to say, enjoy. So after a couple of London shows to generally check out the line up and the addition or mystery man Antonio on the Farfisa to REALLY fill out the sound. It was thought that we should really get back on the road and do something resembling a tour. However I learnt my lesson last time. This time it would... a) be in the summer b) have some days off c) involve less sleeping on floors d) NOT HAVE A BIT WHERE I GOT STUCK IN A SNOW DRIFT AND NEARLY DIE So, furtively, so as not to frighten the other members of the band with thoughts of extended outlay of cash, fatigue and memories of hard, hard floors. I booked some dates. Not a tour you understand, no! That would be horrid and tiring, and here they are... Sunday 28th July (warm up day) Birmingham with Lapsus Linguae (cancelled), so we played with Grover and the Starries. Friday 2nd August (here it begins) Worcester with Ann Arbor Monday 5th August (see two days off!) London with Foe, Cat On Form & Moonkat Tuesday 6th August Oxford with Cat On Form & Sunnyvale Noise Sub Element Friday 9th August (see two more days off) Leicester with Ann Arbor & Moonkat (had to cancel 'cos the singers Nan's Funeral clashed) Saturday 10th August Norwich with Cat On Form & Sennen Modest but enough to see if the new line up was tour worthy, if they had the mettle! And this is what transpired. Sunday 28th July Flapper & Firkin Not even the first day of the tour and already the GYP is in full swing. Not only have our buddies in LL cancelled due to a nasty bout of van breakage, but the van we rented for all the out of town dates is no longer available. Luckily professional male model and Ph.D. chemistry genius David Crofts is on hand to sort us out. If you go to shows in London chances are you've stared in awe at this beauty and envied me as we stagger out of many a crap venue arm in drunken arm to bicker our way home. Sadly the days of our cohabitation are over, but that doesn't stop him from driving half our band to Birmingham with a days notice. Of course if Skippy hadn't so selfishly been in America, then there'd be no trouble but that's another story! Anyhoo, we made it to Brum on time with much local knowledge from Steve (a Birmingham lad through and through). Standard quote. Me; "so do you know where the venue/ landmark/ anywhere in Birmingham whatsoever is" Steve "oh, that wasn't here when I lived here!" Great, but after much stopping, pointing, misunderstandings and general feelings of panic, we found the place, and it really is rather charming. It's right on one of the canals (more than Venice according to fellow local and also non possessor of any local map knowledge Dave Crofts), with a huge beer garden. In which I swore mightily and spat beer out of my nose, on a table right next to a family with small children. What can I say there was a really fat man on a really small bike.. it was funny as fuck! The venue itself is reasonably sized and downstairs. Leading Steve to comment that it was "just like The Cavern" although that seemed to include anywhere that was downstairs (see also The Cellar in Oxford, and some club we went to in Worcester). Starries opened and were a lot more powerful (and oddly more ramshackle in a good way) than the last time we played with them. Prop's to them for opening the show at about three days notice, I'd like to see more of them and hear them really go for it. There's a definite GBV/classic alt rock thing going on with them. NICE. Grover were particularly cool when Simon sang, his voice lifts them out of the Mogwaish league and into something a lot more interesting. Again it's something I'd like to see more of. We played a decent enough bunch of tunes and the sound was corking. It wasn't exactly rammed but not empty either and for a Sunday night I was positively impressed. I did however get told off for swearing onstage in front of Steve's Aunty Gene (although she told me she didn't mind afterwards), but it was a keyboard swirling evening with love in the room, and a fair old warm up for the week to come - although we restrained from substances other than Mcflurry's, which had Magaletti, whipped into a frenzy on their own. So now we were ready to bring the rock to the people. Friday 2nd August Appletree We had to leave Anto' at home for this show, due to our failing to get a cheap enough replacement van. In retrospect he is probably thanking his lucky stars. This is another local boys show, this time for Piers who is Worcester through and through, and jolly proud of it too I shouldn't wonder. With myself being from just down the road (Hereford) I obviously fear and distrust the evil locals but what can you do, a show's a show? And boy howdy what a show. The venue is the upstairs room of a fairly nicely done up pub that serves mainly cider to mainly hard looking blokes from down the road, but the kids running the actual gig were superb. Yokel promotions saw us right, there were probably about 40 odd kids there and they were apologising for the weak turn out. We got paid about twice as much as we normally do too and the gig was free to get into! We also sold more records than at any other show we've played! HA! They have a Locust/Blood Brothers style harshcore band that should play London sometime. Basically, Steve and Shaun and the rest were true gentleman and we had a wicked show, Ann Arbor opened with their brutal drum machine lead instrumental hard core. They brought a mini PA for the drum machine and it was worth it, they ricocheted around the place dancing with some loony mid 40's looking geezer who had apparently just built the stage (which was so thin and narrow that we just used it as an extra long drum riser). The real fun started after we finished and drunkenly made one of the organisers take our entire gear home so we could go to a party. Where I got straight into the high volume swearing and pontificating, allegedly the rest of the band were in the back garden and all they could hear over the music from inside was "blah blah bollocks, blah blah blah fucking rubbish, blah blah blah they're fucking shit" in unmistakably Scanlon tones. Valentina made friends with more than her usual fair share of mentalists, and the rest of us were rude to everyone to the point of nearly being kicked in by a bloke who looked like David St Hubbins from Spinal Tap. Suffice it to say that we made it back to Piers' folks house, where we were staying, at 8am just as his mum was getting up. Some of us slept for ten hours and one of us stayed awake and drove back to London that day. Let's just say, that someone owes me something. Monday August 5th The Verge So it's two days later and I can just about see properly but the inside of my right cheek has a massive chew hole in it and none of us can eat anymore. But, we're at the Verge (AGAIN), we have a job to do, and that job is to rock. The Verge is not an ideal venue but is one of the best ones in London in terms of working with the people that run it/work there. And at least there's no stairs to load up and no one tells you you're barred for being too loud! Back to the rock, and our bringing it. That's kind of easy when you're doing it with kids like Cat On Form; they are probably the most energised and nice bunch of youngsters around. Tonight they are on fire but the sound lets them down a little. Moonkat, open the show and sound mighty with Richard audible for once, but what can you say about your girlfriend's band without being crucified by someone! Foe finished the night but I was improbably being interviewed for student TV about whether I liked novelty records more than serious music. The considered answer was, yes (as in the band, make of that what you will). Here's how the evening ends, Piers leaves early with dignity, Valentina, Anto' and Steve go to Trash and exit with reportedly varying levels of shame and I go home and have a hissyfit 'cos my! mouth! hurts! I wasn't drunk and I forgot my amp head at the venue. Dignity levels were low in Hammersmith that night. Cassie made me some toast though, even though I was being a jerk. Some people are good like that. Tuesday August 6th Oxford Cellar I don't like Oxford, every time we play there something shitty happens, the crowd's usually an odd mix of scenesters and people from the incredibly large number of local music websites/ papers etc. Tonight is no exception - although I do learn the identity of the man who heckled us so 'hilariously' on our last tour. If only I had known, my comeback would have been that much better. There's nothing like a bit of inside knowledge. Sunny Vale Noise Sub Element open featuring notorious pie maker Simon Minter, who forced me to eat one of his concoctions at ATP. GODAMN I only ate it 'cos I thought he was Steve Albini. Cat On Form tonight play with Eva the drummers back to the audience and Dan and Steve stripped to the waist. I used to be that thin once. Sadly I was never in a hardcore band that sounded like the English version of The Mighty Hoover. NICE WORK PEOPLE. Cat On Form sound fucking great but we suffer from the odd acoustics in this wine bar. Steve M' is informed that it used to be a venue then a wine bar, then switched back to a venue. "But what will they do with the simply red CD's" is his heartfelt plea. The glorious Ady Foley DJ's and plays a Fugazi song after us that makes me realise how much the last song in our set sounds like Fugazi. I make a mental note to not do that again. We alleviate boredom and the feelings of slight annoyance at the wankery of some of the people at the show by playing the alphabet game on the way home, i.e., name something for every letter in the alphabet. Predictably we are better at rude words than fruits, at one point I was crying with laughter so much that we all nearly died but I don't think anyone else noticed as they were all laughing too. Hooray for me! My cheek still hurts and Moonkat are doing the next date of the Cat On Form tour in Manchester the following day whilst I have to go and give a presentation about novel cancer drugs. At 2.30am when we get home I consider bunking and going up to Manc' but a strange dream featuring my Mum saying "no", and the knowledge that Cassie will probably kick my ass for skiving work to see her for thirty minutes draw me to work at the hospital the next day. So two days off, but still no van. So Antonio is consigned to bad TV and playing with his organ on his own (had to get an organ gag in somewhere!). Here's what we did next. Friday 9th Leicester Lamplighters A day off work is a marvellous thing, even when you like work there's something nice about waking up at 10 'o' clock listening to a bit of the test match on radio 4 long wave having some cheese on toast and milling about. So that's pretty much what I did before I popped out to see Richard Moonkat, and go and drop some stuff off to be fixed, oh and leave just enough time FOR MY HOUSE TO BE BLOODY BURGLED! And not just by a normal burglar but by one with a little dog, charming. I didn't even notice we'd been burgled (because the guy hadn't been in my room or the front room or the room with all of ec's gear in). It was only the guy over the road who noticed this one man and his dog theft duo leaving our house and that our front ground floor window was open. Although he could have come and told me when I got back at 2.30 (10 minutes after he noticed this guy leave) instead of at 4.30 when I was about to leave for Leicester. Therefore ensuring the due to the police's lightning response (they eventually arrived at 8.30, luckily my flat mate arrived at 6.15) ec' was not exactly on time to the show. We made it though with seconds to spare. We managed to avoid getting kicked in by the severe 80's metal posse (listening to Aerosmith, the Crue, and Alice Cooper's "poison" downstairs) and step over the couple dry humping in the corridor to play a reasonably tight set to the 11 people who had hung around on the off chance we might make it through the torrential rain. This did include Tim Ann Arbor (who sounded great as we were parking the car!) and Phill and Kate (the bassist of Reynolds and recorder of our album and his dedicated Art teaching girlfriend) so prop's to them for coming from Northampton. It's always nice to see a familiar face, especially one that applauds a segue, and helps load the gear out. We get home, after a break for a very nice "proper Cornish" pastie (superior to Ginsters I have to say), at around 3 am wake up my rather peeved flat mate - whose stuff had been robbed. And so to bed. Saturday 10th Norwich Kafe Da Another arse aching 4 and half hour drive through driving rain, blinding sun and 45 minute standstill traffic jams to get to scenic Norwich. A lovely little town, but they seem to have not heard of the invention of the car and it's christingly impossible to drive into the middle of the place without using a pony and trap. After driving round for about a year we finally managed to find somewhere to park (admittedly illegally on a pedestrian area) and went and found Charlie Oil Red O (who was putting on the show). So he came and helpfully directed me up several cobbled lanes, roads that looked like someone's drives and appeared to be going away from the venue, while the rest of ec' manfully went and got pissed in an Italian restaurant. Thanks you selfish bastards I'll just load all the gear find somewhere to park, and then hang out in the venue ON MY OWN for an hour and a half. Yeah cheers. Although thankfully the beautiful Lisa from Bearsuit was on hand to take me to an equally bizarre dead end lane/bridge/park type semi road that you could at least fit your car on. In fact I have to mention that walking through scenic Norwich with an extremely stylish young lady made me feel like the filthy unshaven, ripped jeans and obscene t shirt wearing grebo loser I so obviously was, from now the iron is out in my house and the beard is off! Sennen opened with their Red House Painters style noise, Lisa and I replayed our roles as judges at UEA's battle of the bands last February, and gave them poor marks for stage presence, but they did have a lot of gyp and had to go offstage 'cos one of the THREE guitarists broke some strings. Anyway no sign of my band, so I sacked them all but reinstated them as we actually kicked ass when they finally showed up having polished off two bottles of white wine the greedy pigs. We were all drunk and screwed up everything but we looked like we meant it and the place was rammed with the punkers we played to when we opened for The Dismemberment plan last year, and Norwich's indie brigade, which interestingly, features an unnaturally large number of rather attractive people OF BOTH SEXES. Which as any regular indie rocker knows is so rare as to be downright unnerving. This prompted many comments of the nature of "hubba, hubba", "let's move to Norwich" etc. Although these were replaced later in the evening with "I'm going to be sick", "someone's' pinched my ass" and "no I really am going to be sick". Wine before beer, feeling queer. Or in my case beer and tequila and no dinner, because SOMEONE had to stay and make sure nothing got thieved, feeling fucking mental. Good job I couldn't find the car. Cat On Form were as fiery as usual although spilling water on the PA is, it turns out, a bad thing, and makes it break… a shame, it's worth noting that Ady "I live to drive" Foley drove from Glasgow to Norwich that morning and Norwich to Brighton that night after the show. A true hero, buy your Cat on form singles from him at Vacuous Pop. For the Econoline crew there was allegedly much dancing to songs of the calibre of "blame it on the boogie" but Piers swears he wasn't drunk enough to do "the worm", although he may have instigated a round of "the box". All I remember is a fire alarm and sleeping on a chair. Still that's rock and roll for you. A fitting end to our mini tour, a mini bacchanal. 6 hours of sleep and 12 hours of hangover later I was back in London watching The Simpson's with my best girl. The beat undoubtedly went on someplace, but I went to bed. We will be doing this all again, but more so, when our album "Music Is Stupid" comes out on October 14th. That tour "touring is stupid" is already slated to hit, Brighton, Tunbridge Wells, Manchester, Bath, London and hopefully Scotland, Wales and somewhere down in the south west. May God have mercy on our mortal souls. Econoline