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BANG!
suddenly i’m in a pub and we’re going to play a show. Noxagt get in late, their van is fucked, their sound guy is sick, their bass amp is blown. england has beaten them. it’s horrible seeing bands you know and love getting destroyed by the country you live in. there’s a whole load of nothing happening and eventually we open the doors and play, without a soundcheck, and somehow get away with it. Noxagt are spectacular, then we make 4 car journeys back to the practice room with all our shit and then 2 car journeys back to tom’s house with the PA, which tom has to then make 2 journeys to horsham with in the morning before work. then there’s as close to a party as you can get under the circumstances. then it’s work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work workwork work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work work and then

BANG! suddenly i’m at Basle airport being collected by Jean-Luc in a punk minibus and driven to Colmar and it’s all sunny and summery and i’m sneezing and wearing a teeshirt and everything. Jussi is here already. hello Jussi! and Kevin out of Trumans Water! hi Kevin!, and then all these other people who i’ve never met before who are incredibly friendly and shaking my hand and asking me if i’m Ca Va and fixing me drinks and i forget all of their names very quickly. Neman from Herman Dune tells us we’re on tonight, not tomorrow night, so it’s decided that Stuart should probably try and sleep for a bit, if he can remember how to, and we mooch around watching people soundcheck and drinking and generally unwinding.
Our soundcheck leaves us worried but when we play we’re a little sloppy and sound a bit fizzy but i think, well, we seem to get away with it at least, so it’s okay. other bands play, kevin plays with jussi and neman and it’s great, i still have 2 of his songs rattling round my head even now. and herman dune play and they’re great too, and some other people play but i’m ashamed to say i didn’t watch them. we sleep in the oldest building in town (built 1416) with mike and dina from pre-war yardsale and their incredibly well-adjusted baby and the bells don’t wake anyone up. i still manage somehow to wake up too early and get myself lost in town. Eventually get back to the venue and hang out and hang out and hang out and make some noise in the big derelict chimney and sit by the river and drink and eat and nod and shake hands with a lot of people and so on.
in the evening we somehow implicate ourselves into Jussi’s set, which seems to go well, although maybe not what he was expecting but i think he got away with it. Then there’s more drinking and eating and i manage to not be around when there’s a sing-song happening in back. it’s all about timing. and herman dune play and they’re way better than the previous night and then we go stay with charming Nicholas in his lovely apartment and i don’t sleep at all for some reason and then in the morning Nicholas is showing me a bunch of Vincent (vanoli)’s books and artwork that i’ve never seen before and a bunch of other amazing french artists’ stuff and i’m feeling very inspired and want to hang out all day talking about stuff like that but whoosh, we’re out the door and back to the airport and whisked home on the plane.
and that’s the end.
the end.