Kerboom, kerboom....
Aug. 9th, 2007 07:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mad_andyThat'll be the sound of my hangover, then. Little man with hammers on the inside of my skull.
But!
I am still happy and smiling!
Because despite the OH GOD I'D FORGOTTEN HOW HORRID A HANGOVER IS (I have been relatively sensible with alcohol for ages)it was so much fun getting said hangover that I don't mind at all really. I can honestly say that, once the overnight puking stopped, yesterday was the most fun day I'd had in ages.
Got home, had a shower, went to bed for a few hours. Dragged arse out of bed, had another shower, got in car, went back to sleep.
Woke up as we pulled into the car park - gotta love going to Birmingham, it only took an hour. Strolled toward the venue, and knew we'd found the right place when we spied a very familiar blue van with three very familiar guys unloading a lot of equipment.
Big hugs all round, and we offered to help them carry the equipment in. Nah, said Chris, it's the only exercise we get...
So we hung out, chatted, said hello to Dave the tour manager and John who works for the promoter (both tremendously nice chaps), got some pictures - and got put on the guest list again! Wanna be on the guest list? asked Ollie.
Can we?
Sure, if you want.
Well duh. ;)
The bar academy is an odd little venue - literally, a tiny bar downstairs with the venue itself upstairs. Very few staff hanging about - just the bar manager (as I found out later), the bands... and us. So we snuck in and crashed out on the comfy seats in the bar while everything happened around us. Nobody threw us out. Guess looking like you belong really does work, sometimes! :D
Had to go outside to smoke - obviously - and discovered that Paul smokes, and Chris hasn't had one since christmas. I love those bonding-over-a-ciggie moments, heh. Oh, and finally found out just how tall Paul is - six six, no wonder they call him 'Long'.
After a couple of hours chillin' in the empty bar, Paul strolled past. Did we want to come up to soundcheck?
Fuuuuck yeah!
Man, that was just the bollocks. I sat out of the way on the barrier - which was folded back, so the steps on the side that usually faces the stage were accessible - and promptly tore the arse of my trousers on the rough edges of the metal. Bum. Oh well. Ollie strolls past, clutching a beer and a drumstick. Wanna beer? Sure.
He trotted off, grabbed a couple more, and demonstrated how one can use a drumstick to open a beer bottle. I was impressed.
Soundcheck was fascinating. Obviously I've heard them before, albeit from outside, but to be able to sit quietly and observe was amazing. They played a couple of songs, I took a shedload of pics - and then Chris came and asked how it sounded from where we were. Pretty fucking amazing, I replied, a bit startled to be asked.
Slay helped John the promoter to put the barrier in place, and we wandered over to where the guys were sorting out posters and merchandise. It was all easy, relaxed - just like hanging out with friends, rather than a band - if you see what I mean. More beer. Damn, they're generous. Slay only had one - spot the driver - but me... ah, well, different matter! We talked about jobs and tattoos, I offered the lads the services of my snakes if they ever wanted to do a photoshoot with them - which Ollie was none too impressed by! Chris seemed keen, though.
Then we took the piss out of Chris for a bit - apparently they do the same set every night, but if Chris doesn't have a written setlist he gets nervous. And Ollie has to tell him, every night...
They went off to do an interview and we hung around, wondering when someone would get round to throwing us out.
They didn't. I left Slay with strict instructions not to let anyone beat us to the barrier, and went out for a smoke; there was a long queue outside and the shutters were half down on the door, so I offered John the promoter a cigarette so I'd have someone with me when i wanted to come back in! The bar manager joined us, and the three of us had a very agreeable chat - and when they started to let the queue in, the bar manager promptly earned my undying loyalty by promising to move anyone who dared to nick my spot: "You've been here all day," he said with a grin, "so we'll just shift 'em!"
The staff were an absolute delight, I have to say. Never met such a friendly, accomodating bunch. And that's saying something.
When I went back in, I just said to the guy at the bottom of the stairs that I was on the guest list (and fuck me, did I get a cheap thrill out of saying it!) and he just nodded and waved me on. Bless! He'd obviously seen us hanging out too.
Usual hanging about (front and centre on the barrier, natch), and I could feel the crowd pressing - the place was pretty full, and when the guys came onstage you could see they were stoked. And holy shit, they were on fire.
Within ten seconds I'd stuck my camera back in my pocket - I was going to be waaaay too busy banging my head to be able to breathe, let alone take pics. The crowd went mental, the sweat started to fly, and oh god it was just the most amazing feeling...
The barrier was close enough to the stage that Chris and Paul could both just step forward off the stage and onto the steps - the same ones I'd been sitting on earlier - and lean out over the crowd. I had my head down thrashing away, brought it up and *bonk*. Bass on the back of the head. *Bonk*, *bonk*, onto the shoulder - grabbed Chris round the waist to keep him from belting me with the damn thing any more, and hollered past his hip to a maniacally grinning Ollie.
Mad bastard back on stage, then Paul did it, wallop crack, gots a good grope in there too. The pair of them kept hopping up - and bashing me on the head - but damn, it was so much fun I didn't care that I was getting a lump on the back of my head. At one point I had the bass resting on the top of my head and was keeping time slapping Chris' bum... that's a first for me!
Then I almost dropped Long on the floor - daft bugger decided to try and fall backwards onto the crowd, and the first I knew was when his backside hit my shoulder and the neck of his guitar bounced off my head - again - and had to whip round quick to get my arms under him to boost him back up again. The girl on the other side got a bit squashed (*snicker*), but between me and a couple of husky young lads behind me we managed to not drop him, and held him up long enough to chuck him back on stage...
Christ, it was mayhem of the very best kind.
Once the set was over Slay and I hung over the barrier trying to get our breath back - and Chris passed me the setlist we'd been taking the piss out of him writing up earlier. It's in my jacket now - soon to assume its rightful place on the wall next to my computer with the one we got at Guilfest. Anyway, I staggered off for a smoke while Slay got the drinks in, then we both stumbled across to the merchandise stand - best place to catch 'em after the show.
Got chatting to some of the other long time Zico fans - Fi (very nice lady) tugged at my fringe and said I had 'a bit of a Chris thing' going on with my hair! I got a pic of me and him pre and post gig, and you'll see what she meant when I get round to posting them.
More beer, more chatting, more hanging out. Even more beer. Long gave me one of his cigarettes, we got chased off by the venue staff when we tried to have a crafty smoke out the back of the venue - god, it was brilliant! More beer. Tried to colour in Chris' unfinished tribal work with my sharpie. Compared ink, then Chris dragged Slay off to the area we'd been chased out of earlier to check out my tattoo work, and was suitably impressed, which gave me a squee moment of the highest order. He and Ollie both said they want me to work on them at some point - how fucking cool is that? Even if it's not true, it's damn nice of them to say so.
More beer. Chris was terribly apologetic about beating me in the head with his bass; he said he'd looked out, thought that spot on the barrier was empty and only realised it wasn't when my head popped up and he wondered why the bass was feeling rather light. I kept telling him he didn't have to apologise, but he was mortified when I told him how often he'd done it! Laughed like a drain when I told him about almost dropping Long, though.
More beer. Ollie pulled faces when I took some more pictures of him, he took some more pictures of me and him, him and some more girls, him and yet *more* girls, then came and hid by chatting to me when the hordes of teenage emos became too much for him. Gotta love the guy - I told him he was too nice to be a rockstar (he should be taking advantage, silly boy!), he agreed and said maybe he should try vet nursing. I told him I'd pay big money to see that, then started telling him some of the most off-colour stories I could think of about my jobs. He was horrified, but about laughed himself sick.
More beer. Chris wandered off to watch Ghost Of A Thousand - who were very good - we lost Long, and I carried on flirting with anyone within range and getting a good grope of Ollie's bum whenever I walked past him. Then it was over, time to leave; me, Eve from the Zico message board, a friend of hers whose name escapes me (lots of beer) and Slay decided to go for a drink at a bar next door, and the boys said they'd join us.
Which they did, but only had time for a round of shots (blue aftershock) before they had to head back to their hotel, as it was gone one in the morning and they had to drive to Glasgow the following day. However, Ollie bought the round and I went and flirted with him at the bar for a bit. He's so sweet...
The lads, me, Eve and Whatshername raised our shots and downed 'em. Chris then nicked Slay's coke to wash the taste out of his mouth. Everyone went 'ew' except for me and Long, who's notorious for being able to drink anything. The practice I had drinking with my old tattoo boss hasn't done me any harm in that regard either.
They had to go, and the hugs all round were genuinely warm - it had been a hell of a gig, and they appeared to have enjoyed our company as much as we'd enjoyed theirs. We promised to come to the York gig, got a last picture of the three girls together, swapped email addys and they went off for their taxi and Slay steered me back to the car.
Toooo fucking much beer. Chattered like a monkey all the way home. Staggered online, tried to figure out how to work the software to download my pics, failed, finally stumbled into bed at 2:30.
Woke up with a hangover.
And a bloody great grin.
Damn, it was fun!
And now I have to go to work. Nothing like mucking snakes out with a hangover... ;)
But!
I am still happy and smiling!
Because despite the OH GOD I'D FORGOTTEN HOW HORRID A HANGOVER IS (I have been relatively sensible with alcohol for ages)it was so much fun getting said hangover that I don't mind at all really. I can honestly say that, once the overnight puking stopped, yesterday was the most fun day I'd had in ages.
Got home, had a shower, went to bed for a few hours. Dragged arse out of bed, had another shower, got in car, went back to sleep.
Woke up as we pulled into the car park - gotta love going to Birmingham, it only took an hour. Strolled toward the venue, and knew we'd found the right place when we spied a very familiar blue van with three very familiar guys unloading a lot of equipment.
Big hugs all round, and we offered to help them carry the equipment in. Nah, said Chris, it's the only exercise we get...
So we hung out, chatted, said hello to Dave the tour manager and John who works for the promoter (both tremendously nice chaps), got some pictures - and got put on the guest list again! Wanna be on the guest list? asked Ollie.
Can we?
Sure, if you want.
Well duh. ;)
The bar academy is an odd little venue - literally, a tiny bar downstairs with the venue itself upstairs. Very few staff hanging about - just the bar manager (as I found out later), the bands... and us. So we snuck in and crashed out on the comfy seats in the bar while everything happened around us. Nobody threw us out. Guess looking like you belong really does work, sometimes! :D
Had to go outside to smoke - obviously - and discovered that Paul smokes, and Chris hasn't had one since christmas. I love those bonding-over-a-ciggie moments, heh. Oh, and finally found out just how tall Paul is - six six, no wonder they call him 'Long'.
After a couple of hours chillin' in the empty bar, Paul strolled past. Did we want to come up to soundcheck?
Fuuuuck yeah!
Man, that was just the bollocks. I sat out of the way on the barrier - which was folded back, so the steps on the side that usually faces the stage were accessible - and promptly tore the arse of my trousers on the rough edges of the metal. Bum. Oh well. Ollie strolls past, clutching a beer and a drumstick. Wanna beer? Sure.
He trotted off, grabbed a couple more, and demonstrated how one can use a drumstick to open a beer bottle. I was impressed.
Soundcheck was fascinating. Obviously I've heard them before, albeit from outside, but to be able to sit quietly and observe was amazing. They played a couple of songs, I took a shedload of pics - and then Chris came and asked how it sounded from where we were. Pretty fucking amazing, I replied, a bit startled to be asked.
Slay helped John the promoter to put the barrier in place, and we wandered over to where the guys were sorting out posters and merchandise. It was all easy, relaxed - just like hanging out with friends, rather than a band - if you see what I mean. More beer. Damn, they're generous. Slay only had one - spot the driver - but me... ah, well, different matter! We talked about jobs and tattoos, I offered the lads the services of my snakes if they ever wanted to do a photoshoot with them - which Ollie was none too impressed by! Chris seemed keen, though.
Then we took the piss out of Chris for a bit - apparently they do the same set every night, but if Chris doesn't have a written setlist he gets nervous. And Ollie has to tell him, every night...
They went off to do an interview and we hung around, wondering when someone would get round to throwing us out.
They didn't. I left Slay with strict instructions not to let anyone beat us to the barrier, and went out for a smoke; there was a long queue outside and the shutters were half down on the door, so I offered John the promoter a cigarette so I'd have someone with me when i wanted to come back in! The bar manager joined us, and the three of us had a very agreeable chat - and when they started to let the queue in, the bar manager promptly earned my undying loyalty by promising to move anyone who dared to nick my spot: "You've been here all day," he said with a grin, "so we'll just shift 'em!"
The staff were an absolute delight, I have to say. Never met such a friendly, accomodating bunch. And that's saying something.
When I went back in, I just said to the guy at the bottom of the stairs that I was on the guest list (and fuck me, did I get a cheap thrill out of saying it!) and he just nodded and waved me on. Bless! He'd obviously seen us hanging out too.
Usual hanging about (front and centre on the barrier, natch), and I could feel the crowd pressing - the place was pretty full, and when the guys came onstage you could see they were stoked. And holy shit, they were on fire.
Within ten seconds I'd stuck my camera back in my pocket - I was going to be waaaay too busy banging my head to be able to breathe, let alone take pics. The crowd went mental, the sweat started to fly, and oh god it was just the most amazing feeling...
The barrier was close enough to the stage that Chris and Paul could both just step forward off the stage and onto the steps - the same ones I'd been sitting on earlier - and lean out over the crowd. I had my head down thrashing away, brought it up and *bonk*. Bass on the back of the head. *Bonk*, *bonk*, onto the shoulder - grabbed Chris round the waist to keep him from belting me with the damn thing any more, and hollered past his hip to a maniacally grinning Ollie.
Mad bastard back on stage, then Paul did it, wallop crack, gots a good grope in there too. The pair of them kept hopping up - and bashing me on the head - but damn, it was so much fun I didn't care that I was getting a lump on the back of my head. At one point I had the bass resting on the top of my head and was keeping time slapping Chris' bum... that's a first for me!
Then I almost dropped Long on the floor - daft bugger decided to try and fall backwards onto the crowd, and the first I knew was when his backside hit my shoulder and the neck of his guitar bounced off my head - again - and had to whip round quick to get my arms under him to boost him back up again. The girl on the other side got a bit squashed (*snicker*), but between me and a couple of husky young lads behind me we managed to not drop him, and held him up long enough to chuck him back on stage...
Christ, it was mayhem of the very best kind.
Once the set was over Slay and I hung over the barrier trying to get our breath back - and Chris passed me the setlist we'd been taking the piss out of him writing up earlier. It's in my jacket now - soon to assume its rightful place on the wall next to my computer with the one we got at Guilfest. Anyway, I staggered off for a smoke while Slay got the drinks in, then we both stumbled across to the merchandise stand - best place to catch 'em after the show.
Got chatting to some of the other long time Zico fans - Fi (very nice lady) tugged at my fringe and said I had 'a bit of a Chris thing' going on with my hair! I got a pic of me and him pre and post gig, and you'll see what she meant when I get round to posting them.
More beer, more chatting, more hanging out. Even more beer. Long gave me one of his cigarettes, we got chased off by the venue staff when we tried to have a crafty smoke out the back of the venue - god, it was brilliant! More beer. Tried to colour in Chris' unfinished tribal work with my sharpie. Compared ink, then Chris dragged Slay off to the area we'd been chased out of earlier to check out my tattoo work, and was suitably impressed, which gave me a squee moment of the highest order. He and Ollie both said they want me to work on them at some point - how fucking cool is that? Even if it's not true, it's damn nice of them to say so.
More beer. Chris was terribly apologetic about beating me in the head with his bass; he said he'd looked out, thought that spot on the barrier was empty and only realised it wasn't when my head popped up and he wondered why the bass was feeling rather light. I kept telling him he didn't have to apologise, but he was mortified when I told him how often he'd done it! Laughed like a drain when I told him about almost dropping Long, though.
More beer. Ollie pulled faces when I took some more pictures of him, he took some more pictures of me and him, him and some more girls, him and yet *more* girls, then came and hid by chatting to me when the hordes of teenage emos became too much for him. Gotta love the guy - I told him he was too nice to be a rockstar (he should be taking advantage, silly boy!), he agreed and said maybe he should try vet nursing. I told him I'd pay big money to see that, then started telling him some of the most off-colour stories I could think of about my jobs. He was horrified, but about laughed himself sick.
More beer. Chris wandered off to watch Ghost Of A Thousand - who were very good - we lost Long, and I carried on flirting with anyone within range and getting a good grope of Ollie's bum whenever I walked past him. Then it was over, time to leave; me, Eve from the Zico message board, a friend of hers whose name escapes me (lots of beer) and Slay decided to go for a drink at a bar next door, and the boys said they'd join us.
Which they did, but only had time for a round of shots (blue aftershock) before they had to head back to their hotel, as it was gone one in the morning and they had to drive to Glasgow the following day. However, Ollie bought the round and I went and flirted with him at the bar for a bit. He's so sweet...
The lads, me, Eve and Whatshername raised our shots and downed 'em. Chris then nicked Slay's coke to wash the taste out of his mouth. Everyone went 'ew' except for me and Long, who's notorious for being able to drink anything. The practice I had drinking with my old tattoo boss hasn't done me any harm in that regard either.
They had to go, and the hugs all round were genuinely warm - it had been a hell of a gig, and they appeared to have enjoyed our company as much as we'd enjoyed theirs. We promised to come to the York gig, got a last picture of the three girls together, swapped email addys and they went off for their taxi and Slay steered me back to the car.
Toooo fucking much beer. Chattered like a monkey all the way home. Staggered online, tried to figure out how to work the software to download my pics, failed, finally stumbled into bed at 2:30.
Woke up with a hangover.
And a bloody great grin.
Damn, it was fun!
And now I have to go to work. Nothing like mucking snakes out with a hangover... ;)
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no subject
Date: 2007-08-09 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-09 01:41 pm (UTC)I'm glad to hear you had such an awesome time even if you did get bashed in the head, squashed and plied with drink all night!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-09 04:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-09 04:12 pm (UTC)