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Post by delorentos on May 10, 2010 19:07:59 GMT
Sunday 9th May – Paradiso, Amsterdam Saturday was spent entirely in our van driving from Dublin to Amsterdam, via ferries and the channel tunnel. Due to the unpronounceable volcano we couldn’t risk taking flights over, so a van was rented and a rough itinerary booked. Halfway through England I realised that the recently cleaned passenger seat wasn’t dry and I’d have to sit on newspaper the rest of the trip like a disobedient dog. I’d write more about Saturday except not much happened except driving. One note – a prepacked sandwich from a service station tastes like shit whatever language it’s described in. On Sunday morning we woke in our city outskirts hostel and had showers and had a look about. Booking a hostel on the internet is like going on a dating website, the photos are always from flattering angles, the details are vague and inflated, and you don’t exactly ever know what you’re getting until you actually see it yourself. Our hostel didn’t have the internet it promised, the yellowy-green carpets were suspiciously stained and it all seemed kinda sweaty. Overall, one of the better hostel-booking experiences we’ve had so far. We arrived at the venue around 4, and after a quick walk around the filthy-but-still-personality-filled streets (there’s a rubbish strike on, overflowing bins, trash everywhere) we loaded the gear into the Paradiso. It’s a beautiful venue, with a spacious main room and a cosy second room, the later being our space for the night. The staff were friendly and helpful and we set up quickly and couldn’t help notice how easy it all was. We looked at all the upcoming gigs, Beach House, Dandy Warhols, Jonsi from Sigur Ros and our friend Conor from Villagers, while the previous visitors reads like a who’s-who of music. “Nice” as the dutch TV presenter guy from the Fast Show probably used to say. Downstairs in the labyrinthine backstage we’d a couple of cans of Heineken and hoped that a few people would show up to see us. Tonight was our first ever headline show in the Netherlands, and for us, was a proud moment… Our single “Secret”s been playlisted on a couple of places, so we hoped that would drive a few people through the doors…. Anyway, the gig came and there were handfuls of curious people dotted about the venue, and despite the room not exactly being packed, the gig was great, the atmosphere was warm and we loved it. Afterwards we tried to meet and thank everyone and then went out and like unimaginative tourists had more Heineken in a local bar. The Barman was wearing a Wilco T-Shirt and we struck up conversation. “A lot of bands play in the Paradiso, then come over here afterwards. The Arctic Monkey’s were the last to leave here one night, they even helped clean up!” I told him that we too had just played in the Paradiso, and he nodded. “Yes, I know” he winked, “I heard. it wasn’t full but that it was very good”. And that, I guess, is a pretty good start.
Kieran
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Post by Hazey on May 10, 2010 19:41:19 GMT
hahahaha Nice!
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Post by inlovewithdetail on May 11, 2010 11:35:40 GMT
I wish prepacked sandwiches would tell me whether they had mayo or butter in them. Mayo makes me gag. Urgh. Had any coffee *smirk* yet lads?
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Post by msgranger on May 11, 2010 11:39:43 GMT
That is HILARIOUS Kieran! Keep them coming.
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Post by delorentos on May 12, 2010 18:49:51 GMT
Sunday 10th May - Batcave, 013, Tilburg
We'd a very chilled night in amsterdam. Even still, I'm once again the sole Delorento at breakfast this morning. Toasted ham and cheese and sugar puffs. it's been a while, Honey Monster.
An hour and a half in the van and we arrive in Tilburg, which is a very clean, pleasant sort of place. It seems very quiet, but then it is a Monday. We're greeted at the venue by Steven and Stefan, who show us around the BatCave (the venue) and to our dressing room. The venue is incredible and we're chuffed to see everything we asked for on the rider (4 scooters) and more has been made available. Steven just shrugs his shoulders when we compliment him on their high standards, simply saying"It's normal".
We play in a small room to a petite audience, but there's a nice vibe and afterwards myself and Kieran do an interview for a Dutch radio station which is good fun. During the taping a flight case falls onto the index finger of one of the interviewers, bizarrely he utters not a sound as blood begins to flow. These are hardy folk indeed.
It's Canice, our engineer's birthday today so we end up staying in the venue celebrating and chatting with the crew. It's an interesting insight into the scene in the Netherlands where fierce competition between venues to book the top acts is commonplace. Government grants help to keep the whole show on the road, although we're surprised to learn that many of the staff here are volunteers. There's still the usual balance of trying to get enough megastars through the main hall to cover the small shows, but there's a healthy attitude to supporting and encouraging new music that makes me think we'll be coming back to the Netherlands very soon.
Ró.
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siobhan
Very Senior Member
Posts: 972
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Post by siobhan on May 12, 2010 20:52:20 GMT
Sounds good
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Post by klaartje on May 12, 2010 23:48:57 GMT
Sounds great
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Post by Dave on May 13, 2010 13:13:06 GMT
These are brilliant
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Post by delorentos on May 13, 2010 22:34:28 GMT
Tuesday 11th May I woke up with a headache in our cottage hotel, cursed the bright orange walls and ceiling and padded about unshaven, in my boxers, variously brushing teeth, constantly going to the bathroom, and groggily talking about our day plans. Due to the fact that we’d just come back from Haiti before going on this trip most of my clothes weren’t yet clean when I left, so I was operating on second tier clothes, the ones you either don’t like or stopped wearing. As a result I look vaguely like a wannabe rapper from the late 90’s, all branded t-shirts, baggy jeans and runners with the laces open because they won’t stay closed. (During the intensity of the gig last night I noticed my shoelace was untied and had a surreal moment of internal debate about whether it was cool or not to tie my shoelace during a gig. I bet that never happened to Kurt Cobain. Actually, he probably would have played entire gigs with his laces open, flaunting the possiblity of tripping into fate’s face.) Anyway, yesterday morning on putting on my giant jeans I’d caught my toe in a small rip in the jean jeg, and over the course of the day it had developed into a tear. I’d moved back into the early nineties. We sat around in the bar of the hotel, some of us more wrecked than others, nursing fuzzy hangovers and after some tea, mashed ourselves back into the van and went back to Amsterdam to have a day off and a bit of sightseeing. I refused to get on a bike for fear that all my clothes would get caught in the gears, get slowly torn off and I’d end up cycling rapidly back from the city centre in the nude. Instead we went to The Van Gogh Museum, an inspiring visit. It’s incredible to see his progression as an artist, and very affecting to see his last paintings’ moods darken the closer he got to his suicide. I went outside to buy some postcards of the images but the lady shooed me on, presuming I was a homeless man from the eighties, due to my 5 day stubble. The rest of the evening was spent wandering around seeing what the streets could entice us with. Like every city, Amsterdam looks drab in the rain, but we found some nice bars and met lots of cool people, a couple of whom kindly offered me change for some reason. We ended up in an empty Karoke bar in the red light district, nodding off into our Heinekens. People in bands often lament the time spent hanging around before and after gigs, but the reality is that we’re blessed to have such experiences, even if sometimes the very process of touring makes you jaded of the routine. Looking at van Gogh’s paintings didn’t make me “connect with the artist” or “feel his pain” or anything, anyone empathetic could do that, but it certainly made me want to live that life – the romantic idea of a man whose sole purpose was to paint, to create, to the detriment of eveything else. I, however, end up walking home firmly stuck in reality, where the shards of my jeans stuck to me with the rain and my tired body was rebelling against the lifestyle.
Kieran
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Post by delorentos on May 13, 2010 22:37:46 GMT
Wednesday 12th May – Luxor Live, Arnhem Arnhem is a beautiful city, modern, welcoming, straightforward and pretty. Well, I’m presuming that’s the case, because we were so late out of bed and on the road that we’d to race to the venue and arrived sheepishly two hours late. When we - without taking a breath – got everything onstage and plugged in I looked out the window. I decided it looked pretty modern outside. Admittedly, all I could see was an underpass, but the concrete looked pretty new, so I think my assumption is warrented. Arriving late is a pretty normal thing for a band, and it’s important for the crew/band relationship. It shows the venue crew that the band are so cool and louche that time isn’t anything but a set of morals set down by the man, man. It also gives the crew ample opportunity to stand around rolling their eyes and looking at their watches because bands are soo annoying. These are the cornerstones on which we set our live music temples on. Thing is though, that’s all well and good if it’s 15 minutes or a half an hour, if you’re over an hour and half late everyone wheezes around like an idiot until everything is set up and ready to go. After setup I had a mini mars bar, then a mini snickers bar, a can of coke, and ignored the massive bowl of fruit. This is another example of being a idiot. Eat the fruit! My conscience shouted, knowing full well that I had already mentally undressed both chocolate bars. In Music, you’re either Mick Jagger or Keith Richards as regards how you look after yourself. Either way you end up wrinkly. After soundcheck we sat on the balcony of the impressive venue and ate a surprisingly opulent meal. There were broccoli tarlets. There was a chicken and tofu salad. Mashed potato with saffron. I’m not making this up. It was unbelieveable. The chef came out, welcomed us, introduced himself, and took us through each course. Awesome. After that we sat and digested in the dressing room, and gently argued about set lists. Pre-gig is a funny time when everyone does their own thing to relax. Nial listened to music and acted as dj, Ross played online golf, Gouj and Ro watched video’s of various bands on Gouj’s iPhone. I messed about writing sets and pacing about looking for something to figet with. After the punky support band finished (they were called “Phoenix Park” – but not after the place in Dublin apparently) we got up onstage. There were a few people in the audience we recognised so we started with confidence, then first song a string on Ro’s guitar broke. Of course. Que some tuning and guitar swopping and level changing, but after a few songs we got back into it. Playing a gig is almost a mindset, like a play or something, and when something technical happens you have try to shake it off and get back into it quickly. Luckily we’d a good audience so we got away with our early wobble and enjoyed it. The promotor afterwards complimented us and talked about his philosophy. He told us how it was a fairly new venue and he wanted to treat people like one would like to be treated. Afterwards, during a sinful mini Bounty, I wished all venues could look after bands like that. On the way back to our Amsterdam base we got a little lost and ended up driving through dark gardened estates, but we found our way back to the main road quite quickly. (Straighforward!) The next time we come back to Arnhem I promise to explore. And eat fruit.
Kieran
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Post by Aisling on May 13, 2010 22:41:00 GMT
Tuesday 11th MayActually, he probably would have played entire gigs with his laces open, flaunting the possiblity of tripping into fate’s face. Brilliant.
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Post by Hazey on May 13, 2010 22:51:05 GMT
I love the different writing types.. its class
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Post by delorentos on May 15, 2010 13:51:24 GMT
Thursday – Klomppop Festival, Ovezande, Zeeland
After getting in pretty late from Arnhem, we got up early on Thursday to make sure we weren’t late again. After a dodgy breakfast in a Turkish cafe, we all jumped into the van and started the two hour journey south to the Small but perfectly run Klomppop Festival. Dodgy food and long car journeys in stuffy vans in always a difficult situation, but we survived. Situated just outside the town of Ovezande, the one day festival is made up of two large tents that alternate performances a couple of food stalls and a few thousand people happily drinking, dancing and listening.
In a reversal of yesterday, we arrived two hours early, so we whiled away the time by playing football in the sunshine with the other bands, and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. If anyone ever needs an example of how a small festival should be run you could do worse than visiting this one. I get envious of the atmosphere at European festivals sometimes, despite the best efforts of Irish organisers, there’s often a crowd who just want to get as drunk as possible and that doesn’t seem to be as prevalent over here.
Before the gig we met a journalist who’d written a two-page piece in the paper about us. He basically translated the heading of the piece as “Irish band with Bad lyrics”. I was a bit disappointed but carried on the enthusiastic chat until it became clear it meant “Irish band with dark in their lyrics”. Ha!
When the time came to set up we got all hands on deck, set up, and hoped that some people would come in and have a listen. We needn’t have worried, as the gig was the highlight of our week, and we played with the huge crowd and got a great response. It was a relief for us, I suppose the enormity of starting again in another country had been playing on our minds, but the gig showed that audiences are open to new music (well, new to them!). After the gig a young guy came over and told us he thought the crowd didn’t feel it very much. I was disappointed, but carried on the enthusiastic chat until it became clear he meant that he thought the crowd didn’t feel it enough, as much as he did. As the prophet Keating once declared: Life is a rollercoaster....
Reluctantly we squeezed back into the van and drove for a few hours through Belgium and France to get the midnight Euro Tunnel Train, but we missed it by 10 minutes and sat in a draughty warehouse-sized shopping centre until the 1.30 train. I had a tuna sandwich and debated how tuna entered the big four of sandwich fillings, behind ham, turkey and chicken. I got withering looks. It’s been a long week.
Eventually we arrived at a Travelodge and collapsed into bed. I’d like to say i lay there contemplating a great end to the tour, and devising plans of future trips, but in reality within seconds of getting into bed i was snoring in the face-down starfish position.
Kieran
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Post by msgranger on May 15, 2010 21:16:40 GMT
Have you noticed both yourself and Ro tend to talk about food alot in your blogs? I definitely think it adds a certain something. Perhaps Ross and Nial could also leave a few messages so we get a the full band approach to the tour? Just a suggestion...
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Post by griff on May 20, 2010 10:59:55 GMT
Tuesday 11th MayI woke up with a headache in our cottage hotel, cursed the bright orange walls and ceiling and padded about unshaven, in my boxers, variously brushing teeth, constantly going to the bathroom, and groggily talking about our day plans. Due to the fact that we’d just come back from Haiti before going on this trip most of my clothes weren’t yet clean when I left, so I was operating on second tier clothes, the ones you either don’t like or stopped wearing. As a result I look vaguely like a wannabe rapper from the late 90’s, all branded t-shirts, baggy jeans and runners with the laces open because they won’t stay closed. (During the intensity of the gig last night I noticed my shoelace was untied and had a surreal moment of internal debate about whether it was cool or not to tie my shoelace during a gig. I bet that never happened to Kurt Cobain. Actually, he probably would have played entire gigs with his laces open, flaunting the possiblity of tripping into fate’s face.) Anyway, yesterday morning on putting on my giant jeans I’d caught my toe in a small rip in the jean jeg, and over the course of the day it had developed into a tear. I’d moved back into the early nineties. We sat around in the bar of the hotel, some of us more wrecked than others, nursing fuzzy hangovers and after some tea, mashed ourselves back into the van and went back to Amsterdam to have a day off and a bit of sightseeing. I refused to get on a bike for fear that all my clothes would get caught in the gears, get slowly torn off and I’d end up cycling rapidly back from the city centre in the nude. Instead we went to The Van Gogh Museum, an inspiring visit. It’s incredible to see his progression as an artist, and very affecting to see his last paintings’ moods darken the closer he got to his suicide. I went outside to buy some postcards of the images but the lady shooed me on, presuming I was a homeless man from the eighties, due to my 5 day stubble. The rest of the evening was spent wandering around seeing what the streets could entice us with. Like every city, Amsterdam looks drab in the rain, but we found some nice bars and met lots of cool people, a couple of whom kindly offered me change for some reason. We ended up in an empty Karoke bar in the red light district, nodding off into our Heinekens. People in bands often lament the time spent hanging around before and after gigs, but the reality is that we’re blessed to have such experiences, even if sometimes the very process of touring makes you jaded of the routine. Looking at van Gogh’s paintings didn’t make me “connect with the artist” or “feel his pain” or anything, anyone empathetic could do that, but it certainly made me want to live that life – the romantic idea of a man whose sole purpose was to paint, to create, to the detriment of eveything else. I, however, end up walking home firmly stuck in reality, where the shards of my jeans stuck to me with the rain and my tired body was rebelling against the lifestyle. Kieran ha ha this is top
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