Champagne Supernova

26 August 2008

Hiya kid.

So...I'm leaving home in London yesterday. Literally putting my bags in the car and this lad comes up to me.. "Can I get a quick picture?" he asks. "Dunno..CAN you?" says I. Anyway while his mate is taking a reasonably quick snap he informs me that he was one of the lucky ones to get tickets for our tour in October. "I hope you're not putting any of 'em on e-bay?" "No chance, mate" he says "I'm going with my granddad ..he fuckin' loves you lot!" JESUS CHRIST!!! I ask him how old his granddad is in the vain hope he might be freakishly young...like. say..50? "65" he says. "He's been into you lot since '94!!"

At Heathrow airport the righteous people of B.A. have upgraded everyone to 1st class except for tour dj Phil Smith who has been mysteriously downgraded to "premium economy" (whatever that is). Halfway through the flight I'm interrupted by one of the cabin crew who's laughing nervously saying, "Mr. Gallagher your brother seems to have collapsed in the aisle!" (YES! AT LAST!!!) And sure enough....there he is, face down in the aisle unconscious. "Shall I wake him?" asks the attendant. "Nah, leave him there..he's only looking for attention!" Somewhat predictably U.S. immigration nearly takes as long as the flight. I think the sight of a true, real life evil genius has the young officer flustered. No major drama though except one of my bags hasn't made it. THE BASTARD. Please don't let me suffer the indignity of shopping for undies on the morning of the gig the person who serves me is bound to be a fan! Seattle seems to have changed though (and for the better, I might add) since the last time we were here (whenever that was). Had a quick skip down the venue to check what the wizards have done with the lights for this tour. It looks pretty good, I must say. Fuck knows how we manage to afford all this stuff. Pink Floyd eat your heart out! Anyway gotta fly, I have an excruciatingly pointless interview to do…'til next time.

In a bit.

General Dread

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27 August 2008

So we arrive at the sound-check for the gig in Seattle and Jesus, you want to see this place! It’s supposed to be a warm up, it’s massive! The sound-check’s a bit shit really. Sounds like we’ve not played for 10 days (which we haven’t). The dressing room’s a joke. It looks like the inside of a big brother house. White fake leather sofas you can’t actually sit on as much as slouch about 4 inches off the floor AND a little Buddha surrounded by little fake flowers in a little fake fountain that makes you just want to go for a little fake piss. LUDICROUS! Someone’s taking this 60’s thing too far. Who do they think we used to be? Kula Shaker? Meet Matt Costa backstage (he’s a singer/songwriter!) He’s opening the show on this leg of the tour. And Ryan Adams, who’s wearing VERY stripy socks.

Me and Gem are nominated by our fellow housemates to do ANOTHER interview which turns out to be quite serious for a change. Does kind of make me feel like I’m in Radiohead though.

It gets to that weird time of the day where no one’s sure what to do with themselves. Most have gone for dinner (I don’t do dinner before a show; there’s something not quite right about playing rock’n’roll music on a full stomach), I’m going outside for a smoke. Run into a few fans who ask THE most annoying question – “can we get a quick picture?” (“Erm..dunno CAN you?”). They try emotional blackmail by informing me that they’ve come “all the way from St. Louis" (wherever that is). I tell them that that matters not a jot as I’ve come all the way from England, which is (as everyone knows) FUCKIN’MILES AWAY!! Matt Costa gets up and sings some songs that he wrote all by himself, two of which are pretty good. Ryan gets up and also sings some songs he wrote by himself but he plays them with his band The Cardinals. It’s really good (just my opinion!). As for us? We were ok. Alright. Not bad. I know we’ve done better gigs and I’m sure we’ll do worse.

Off to Canada tonight. Vancouver to be exact. 4 hours door to door it is. Not enough time to get really pissed. Never mind, it’s early days. There’s plenty of time for that. And yes, my missing bag did eventually turn up (thanks for asking).

In a bit.

General Dread.

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28 August 2008

I really shouldn’t moan but the venue in Vancouver holds 12,000 people! TWELVE THOUSAND!! I mean, if these are warm up shows then God only knows what kind of gigs we’ll be doing when the album comes out. Mind you, it makes for a great atmosphere. The gig itself? We smashed it. The crowd were fuckin’ amazing. We salute you Vancouver. There seems to be a problem with the rider; too much shit red wine and not enough vodka. This will not stand! We’re all on the bus tonight. 18 hours to Edmonton! EIGHTEEN HOURS!!! Now THAT is gonna involve some boozing. I’m proud to say there were still a couple of us going at it with vodka and Neu (70’s german rock) at 9.00am!! NOW THAT’S A DRINK.

Wake up at 4.00.pm. Feel horrific. We are literally driving across the middle of nowhere. Pull over at a truck stop for a belated breakfast. The gaff seems to be manned solely by 13 year old girls in identical black uniforms and sporting enormous smiles. It’s like we’ve stumbled into a Stephen King novel. Creepy. We order breakfast. What did I have you ask? Well, I had what any English gentleman worth his salt would have..fish and chips! Turns out we haven’t been lured to our death by the teenage waitresses. They’re on their school holidays. AND THEY CHOOSE TO WORK? Kids today, eh?

Back on the bus I notice I’ve got 26 messages on my phone. That usually means some famous person or other has got upset with my turn of phrase in an interview or something and my manager’s going ape-shit. Turns out it’s great news. SWP* has signed for Man City. What a coup! We might actually win something this time. The boys are up the front of the bus watching that film ‘Grizzly Man’. Think I’m gonna hang back here and watch the world go by. FEELING like a grizzly man.

In a bit.

General Dread.


* SWP: Shaun Wright Phillips

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29 August 2008

Day off today. Not much to do in Edmonton. They have the largest shopping mall in the western hemisphere though!! It’s that big it has a fuckin’ fake lake in it and a half sunken pirate ship!! Manage to catch that Barrack Obama’s speech to the Democratic rally. Impressive stuff. Spellbinding in fact. Wish he was one of ours. Why do Americans believe they’re electing the president of THE WORLD though?

Me and Sharrock head out for a Chinese (any day that starts with fish and chips for breakfast and ends with a Chinese for tea is a glorious day!) The thing inside my fortune cookie has these numbers on the back 9, 24, 31, 35, 38 and 49 (you can have them) and this cryptic message on the front: ‘YOU WILL SOON WITNESS A MIRACLE” We’ll see, eh?

In a bit.

General Dread.

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30 August 2008
Woke up to a beautiful sunny day today in Edmonton. Didn’t get nearly enough kip though. This jet-lag’s a fucker. There seems to be a wedding party milling around the bar in the hotel so a couple of us jib outside to the terrace for tea and cigarettes. We’re discussing another player (who we’ve never heard of) who’s just signed for City (he’s an Argentinian. I predict fireworks!) Some old lady approaches us to ask if we’d mind doing a “quick picture” with the bride and groom! “Erm..no, I don’t think so” (who do they think we are? Robbie Williams?) “Oh, go on, the bride will be heartbroken”. “Good”, I think to myself and off we go to the venue.

Ryan Adams was good tonight. Even Liam’s having him and he hates everything! Our gig was great. Just wish I was in better shape to enjoy it. Still a bit fucked from the other nights session on the bus. We left immediately after the gig. It’s what’s commonly known as “doing the Elvis”. Andy and his iPod are shuffling on the bus. It’s all good. Jimi Hendrix’s “Spanish Castle Magic” and Hawkwind’s “Silver Machine” are the highlights for me. I even turn a blind ear to some Beach Boys tune or other (told you I wasn’t feeling myself!)

No sign of the miracle I’m supposed to witness soon. Saying that, someone did throw their bra onstage tonight! Or could it be that we’ve just seen the 1st English paper since we left home. Apparently Margaret Thatcher’s got dementia! The lord moves in mysterious ways, eh?

In a bit.

General Dread.

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Une review de quoi ? C'est du néant ce journal, y a rien à prendre à part "il fait beau, y'a un mariage dehors, hier une fille a balancé son soutif sur scène"

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