Page 8
Steeleye Span 'World Tour' Diary 2004
Monday 4th May
Travell to Birmingham / Day Off.
A perfect illustration of the many variations our English weather can
throw at you in the shortest of times - that's how I'd describe the
journey from Chatham to Birmingham, but as the tour bus was being lashed
with rain and strong winds on the M25 it seemed that most passengers
seemed oblivious to weather conditions, the reason being - it was Bank
Holiday Monday - and we had the day off. By the time we reached our
destination the sun was out.
Tonight, I walked to an Indian restaurant on the Hagley Rd (called:
Regards) with Peter and Mark, both are men after my own heart when it
comes to Indian cuisine. It was great - completely self-indulgent, as
it should be. When we were finished we rendezvoused at 'The Garden House'
with (fiddle player) Joe Broughton and his wife Joy. Funnily enough,
the last time I drank there was on their wedding day and this was where
their reception was held.
Tuesday 4th May
The Alexandra Theatre, Birmingham.
The set was adjusted slightly for tonight's show - bringing back 'King
Henry' as the opener, and the instrumental 'Si Beg Si Mor'. The reason
was to take some of the workload off Maddy who seems to be getting all
the symptoms of a throat infection, thankfully though it doesn't appear
to be too bad. It was good to revisit King Henry, a song I'm particularly
fond of - I think more than anything because to me it played a large
part in what represents the beginning of my working relationship with
Steeleye. From the point of view of the song length, and the process
of becoming familiar with the overall arrangement, not to mention having
to memorise thirteen verses of lyrics, each time I perform it, still
it has a feeling of purposefulness about it. So, by replacing the usual
opener 'Padstow', that's how we started tonight's set.
Looking out from a stage towards the seated area of a concert hall is
a completely different experience during the sound check as compared
to during a performance. Of course, most of this is down to the lighting
which makes it virtually impossible see anything when the show is in
progress. But to me, what's more striking than that, is that as a result
of nothing other than familiarity, we can skim past things, we look
at something but, in a sense, don't necessarily see what we look at.
Often during a sound check I've looked out, repeatedly, at some of the
most majestic theatres, and then suddenly, out of the blue, I realise
how impressive it looks (as was the case at The Alexandra). I can't
help but draw parallels, and consider how many other aspects of our
lives are 'missed' in similar fashion. If I were to be honest I'd have
to say that 'familiarity' is a weak excuse for ignoring the quality
of what's around us, especially the people in our lives.
If there was one downside to this evening, it was the temperature. The
whole theatre seemed quite cold, and though this can have a bearing
on the overall atmosphere of a show, the evening was a good one.
The Assembly Hall, Tunbridge Wells (22/4/04)
Wednesday 5th May
Stratford Civic Hall, Stratford-upon-Avon.
It would be an understatement if I were to describe today as difficult - the understated difficulty beginning at something like 4am, the time I became conscious to the world, and conscious also of wanting to be anything other than conscious. I'd definitely caught something, or eaten something - and hadn't felt this dreadful in years. I won't go into any great detail, but I was about to become very well acquainted with the bathroom. Not being able to find a single physical position that offered any comfort whatsoever, one minute I'd be standing, the next lying, then sat on the bed - then it'd be the bathroom again. Apart from considering drawing up a will, my thoughts centered upon last night food in the dressing room - was it the samosas, or the camembert? My saviour today was Liam who, through the process of checking out of one hotel, traveling to Stratford, and checking into the next one, carried bags for me and even stopped the tour bus at a pharmacy for appropriate medication. On arrival I spent the rest of the afternoon in bed.
Mercifully, Bernie our new tour manager, left it as late as possible to collect me from the hotel for the gig. By this time some of the aches had subsided slightly, enough so, that playing a gig had just started to fall into the realms of remote possibility. I figure it could've been one of those twenty four hour bugs - but I didn't have the presence of mind to time it.
The gig was a another chilly one, well it was backstage. And speaking of stages, it was possibly the smallest stage so far of the tour, consequently the sound was that much more concentrated - to my ears it was good, and judging by the reaction it wasn't so bad on the outside. And I lived to tell the tale.
Thursday 6th May
The Assembly Rooms, Derby.
This morning, not only was the experience of waking up radically more acceptable than yesterday's, but I tasted the best mushrooms ever. I've considered keeping this to myself - something that would just be my little secret, but no, to not share this information would result in a burdon of guilt far too heavy for this man. So if anyone actually reads these chronicles - and happens to likes mushrooms, you must visit, and eat breakfast, at the Charlecote Pheasant Hotel - situated in Charlecote, just outside Stratford. I'm thinking about a long weekend there when the tour's over.
Bernie, yesterday's tour manager, is today replaced by Mark - the man Bernie replaced yesterday. It's all quite confusing, and after just less than three weeks on the road it's pretty difficult having he who takes care of everything just leave you. As Liam says, "It's like saying good-bye to your dad." Mark had pre-arranged work to do with his more established employer 'Katherine Tickell'. The same is going to happen again next week, only then it'll be for a stretch of four days.
Friday 7th May
Day off / Derby.
It's hard to know whether these days that we have off every so often really deliver all the promised respite one imagines over the two or three days that lead up to them. From one town to the next, one theatre to the next, days differentiated by name and place gradually start to lose their definition. The experience of perceived time becomes less one of division, more one of a seamless continuum. And in the midst of this time line that's lost it's beginning and end, the 'day off' can become a point of fixation. So, it's not hard to imagine that any difficulties or tiredness you have, any dropped notes, guitar chords, or lyrics forgotten - in fact, anything remotely problematic in life will be solved by having a day off. When you're back on the road, the day off then becomes the reason for those things. Well, you've gotta blame something I suppose.
Saturday 8th May
Theatr Hafren, Newtown, Wales.
What is it with these Welsh audiences? The last time we had an audience
like this, and I say this in the most positive sense, was exactly one
week ago, last Saturday in - where else but - Wales. And the way they
sang 'All around my Hat' when it came to their bit, was quite uplifting
- what a good night.
The hotel we stayed at was in a lovely and peaceful spot. It's called
'The Golfa House Hotel' and sits about a mile and a half west of Welshpool.
Apart from the surrounding countryside being some of the best you can
experience, it's fantastic to have absolutely no traffic noise in the
background.
Carol drove down from Preston to spend today and tomorrow with me - we'd
both forgotten what the other looked like. Not only was it fantastic to
see her (and be reminded) , but because we now had our own transport,
she'd brought me almost two days of freedom from the tour bus.
Sunday 9th May
Philharmonic Hall, Liverpool.
En-route from Welshpool to Liverpool, it seemed like a good idea to make the most of the reasonably generous amount of time we had at our disposal, so we (Carol and myself) headed west to Machynlleth and checked out some of our old and favorite haunts (see diary entry Saturday 1st May). Much of the journey was spent discussing the usual subject in the usual manner - that is the subject of buying an (affordable) property - in a scenic and quiet place. For years we've gone round and round on this topic, and normally it's either Wales or Brittany where we're going to do it. We've always wanted to buy the old railway building - that I've written about - at Evans Bridge , and as we were heading in that direction Carol suggested that there just might be a 'for sale' sign outside when we arrived. Well, would you believe it? - there wasn't. Never mind, we'll just keep talking about it.
On our arrival in Liverpool we checked into what must be one of the worst hotels I've ever had the displeasure of staying at - The Moathouse Hotel in Paradise Street. If you're partial to being checked into rooms that haven't been made up; rooms that reek of stale cigarette smoke; finding crumbs and toe nail clippings on the floor; not being able to close your window; being told breakfast is served at times when it's not; stained bath tubs and doors that won't close, and especially if you really enjoy paying considerable sums of money for such pleasures, you will absolutely love this place.
The Philharmonic Hall itself has a feeling of history about it; it's a very visual building. Also, I'd have to add that it's not only the Welsh that can enjoy themselves, tonight's audience showed us all the warmth and enthusiasm, and about as much appreciation as we could've hoped for.
[About Ken] [Press Reports] [Gig Guide] [Albion Band] [Discography] [Ken's Online Shop] [Notebook] [Links] [Further Information] [Sounds][Guestbook] [Email Me!]