On Tour With Ian Hunter #2

Wednesday 5th November
I'm revising my opinion of the blowhard. You can't rely on anything these days - just when I had him pegged as an all-time, award-winning arsehole he starts being nice to us.
I like the Motorco place in Durham, North Carolina where we played in last night. Amy and I played there a few years ago when it first opened, almost before they'd finished building it. Shame that now it's finished it doesn't have a backstage, just a small room with a bathroom off it, next to the front of the stage. One sofa, one armchair, a small fridge, a tea and coffee station, a big trash can and a table with the ubiquitous curling sandwiches and iceberg lettuce on it. And enough standing room for nearly four people.
Nowhere to put our stuff after the set. I found a corner behind a curtain next to the power amps where they keep the blown monitor wedges and spare mic stands. I told the blowhard I was going to stash the gear in there and he suggested loading straight out - 'peace and love all round, right?'
I pointed out the difficulty of taking the gear through the audience all the way to the loading door which was at the other end of the hall next to where the audience come in. He had a think about that and agreed that it didn't make sense and I felt as though I'd won a small victory.
The set was a lot of fun. I wasn't swamped by Amy's acoustic so I could actually hear what I was playing. Amy told the crowd that I'd become a grandfather twice over since we last played at Motorco. They seemed to like that, shouts of congratulation and someone at the back shouted something about being prolific.
'Prolific? I had nothing to do with it. I mean - I wasn't in on the creation of the grandchildren. I don't know how you people go about it down here, but I wasn't actually there or anything...'
We played for a bit longer this time, all the songs we played last night plus Please Be Nice To Her, Someone Must've Nailed Us Together and Rebel Girl Rebel Girl.
Afterwards I got our stuff off in a timely manner with no interference from the blowhard (I've decided I like him by the way), except that he took our guitars into the already overcrowded dressing room. I expect he did it deliberately in order to discredit us.

photo by Tamara Guo

The place was apparently full of North Carolina rock royalty - Peter Holsapple and Will Rigby from the DBs, Mitch Easter and a host of others but I don't really know what a lot of them look like so I couldn't really say, though I'm doing the best I can to be impressed.
Ian and the Rant Band were great. I love seeing them in real rock venues as opposed to City Winery dinner theatre places. A lot of people in the crowd were visibly moved, hugging each other and crying. Boy was an epic, I suppose it always is but in that place, with that audience, it seemed much more so.
Afterwards I sat on the dressing room sofa with Ian and he talked about David Bowie and Mick Ronson, and about being asked to join Uriah Heap when Mott The Hoople folded up. I'm glad he didn't. The conversation turned to hair care:
'...you don't have that problem, you're not known for hair, but I do, I'm known for hair...'

On Tour With Ian Hunter #1

Sunday 2nd November
I’m sitting in the backstage at the Hamilton in Washington DC. Not exactly backstage, more side of kitchen - Ian Hunter and the gang are backstage, except that they’re not because they didn’t want to dine off plates on their knees, so they’re braving the far-flung corners of this venue come outsize restaurant. We wolfed our dinners down in the time-honoured manner of opening acts everywhere, off a coffee table sitting on a giant DFS or Big Lots vinyl sofa.
And now we’re waiting to go on. Ten minutes to showtime and I’m feeling discombobulated, my condition not entirely helped by the large mug of er...espresso that arrived for me accompanied by a jug of steaming milk and a biscotti the size of Illinois.
We have a set list and I’ve got a case of the shakes. I've had a case of the shakes for about two weeks now: pre-tour nerves - pre for the up and coming European tour and now real live and current stage nerves because we’re about to open for one of my biggest heroes and I still feel as though I’m driving a car down I-95 through New Jersey and Delaware.
Time to go on....

photo by Tamara Guo

That went quite well - the room was packed with diners and there was a girl from Worthing at the front. We started with The Downside Of Being A Fuck-up and I was surprised by the volume of Amy’s acoustic guitar. It seemed to be twice as loud as it was at the soundcheck. My Vox AC15 was no match for it, I was playing at almost completely busted up level and I could still hardly hear myself. It was fine once I'd got used to being in an acoustic guitar tornado. We played Don't Break The Heart, Another Drive-in Saturday, Till The Wheels Fall Off, Whole Wide World, Dancing With Joey Ramone, Days Of Jack & Jill and finished with Genovese Bag.
The audience seemed to be full of people who came from relevant places - a girl came from Mount Lebanon in Pittsburgh where Amy grew up. There was a frank exchange on the subject and I related my story of driving round the neighbourhood with Amy's dad:
He pointed out the old family home, was pleased to see it was still painted white. He turned to me - 'do you know why I painted it white?'
And before I could formulate any kind of answer - 'so there'd always be a Republican in the White House!'
I was still only a perspective son-in-law in those days so I was on my best behaviour. 'Er...yes...er...quite right too,' I managed.
Some of the audience looked slightly uncomfortable.
Things went better when I got onto the subject of Shoreham-By-Sea before Days Of Jack & Jill.
An English voice from the crowd: 'Don't dare say anything bad about Shoreham.'
'I wasn't going to, but what's it to you?'
The guy came from Shoreham and he could prove it, said he had photos of him sitting on Shoreham beach at an early age, eating pebbles.
'We were poor too' I said, 'I used to eat coal, and my Grandmother's dog's dog biscuits when no one was looking, but of course we had rationing...'
Ian's crew has acquired a new crew boss, an officious blowhard from Brooklyn who apparently worked for Bob Dylan and seems to rub everyone up the wrong way. As I was getting our gear off after the set I asked him if we were in a tearing hurry. I hadn't bargained on getting a lecture on opening act etiquette:
'We are always in a hurry - you need to get your stuff off my stage right now, do not be going in the dressing room until you have moved all your stuff. The thing you have to learn about being a guest is that you have to be a good guest and that means moving your equipment out of our way right now and remaining invisible...'
I've probably been doing this longer than he has. I told him I didn't need his fucking lecture and I couldn't imagine there was anything he could pass on to me concerning good behaviour. I suppose I can expect problems now.
Meanwhile Ian was appalled that we'd been shunted off into a second dressing room.
'You're in with us' he said. 'Always! Make yourselves at home and don't ever think you're in the way!'
I love that man.

NOVEMBER

04 DURHAM NC, Motorco Music Hall – Eric & Amy opening for Ian Hunter TICKETS
05 CHARLOTTE NC, Neighborhood Theatre – Eric & Amy opening for Ian Hunter TICKETS 
07 ATLANTA GA, Variety Playhouse – Eric & Amy opening for Ian Hunter  TICKETS
08 HUNTSVILLE ALABAMA, Yellowhammer Brewery yellowhammerbrewery.com Eric solo
09 NASHVILLE TN, City Winery – Eric & Amy opening for Ian Hunter  TICKETS
Wreckless Eric European tour with full band:
NOVEMBER
21 COLOGNE, King Georg www.kinggeorg.de 
22 NIJMEGEN, Merleyn www.doornroosje.nl/agenda 
23 UTRECHT, Le Guess Who www.leguesswho.com 
25 HAMBURG, Hafenklang www.hafenklang.org 
26 BERLIN, Crystal Club c-club-berlin.de/ 
28 MANNHEIM, Blau www.blau-jungbusch.de
29 MUNICH, The Atomic Cafe www.atomic.de 

DECEMBER
01 ZURICH, El Lokal TICKETS
02 STRASBOURG, La Popartiserie facebook.com/pages/La-Popartiserie
05 LEON, SPAIN, Purple Weekend Festival – THE LEN BRIGHT COMBO
06 LEON, SPAIN, Purple Weekend Festival – WRECKLESS ERIC solo
10 HULL, New Adelphi
11 GLASGOW, Broadcast TICKETS
13 LONDON, 100 Club TICKETS ON SALE NOW
14 BRIGHTON, Prince Albert

An Espresso Jolt Near Holt

Not that I want to start on a negative note but I'm immediately wondering if this is going to be yet another post that never gets posted. I've got quite a collection now, enough to fashion into some sort of redundant post medley. The last one was about Humble Pie – I was listening to their second album, Town & Country – my daughter gave me a copy for my birthday back in May. I was having a great time, lolling about on the sofa, hi-fi high and the lights down low and all that, recalling the time I saw Humble Pie in 1969 on their first ever tour – I seemed to be writing forever but it all feels a bit irrelevent and inconclusive now because so much has happened since and I haven't even written about suddenly being sixty years old yet. So I never posted it. I drove three and half thousand miles instead.

Weird - I was in Memphis the other day.

Now I'm in a place called The Art Cafe in a tiny village called Glandford on the North Norfolk coast. The Art Cafe sells tie dye scarves and landscape paintings, trinkets and hand-crafted teapots, stuff like that; and weirdly enough the best espresso I've ever had anywhere in Norfolk. I'm staying in North Norfolk for the duration of the Holt Festival so I'm in The Art Cafe every morning. Norfolk appears to have been completely taken over by well-heeled couples in late middle-age. The combination of these people, in their shorts, with their alarmingly gnarled legs, and a couple of excellent espressos has me quite confused.

I have to leave here now and go to the BBC in Norwich for a live interview on the afternoon show to plug my appearance tomorrow night at the Holt Festival. After that I have to go on Mustard TV, a prospect I find more than just vaguely terrifying.

I wish I could find the thing I wrote about Humble Pie, but I can't. A shame really because I think it was more interesting than this snippet of nothing, but at least this might get posted...

Twats on flights, solid-state amplifiers, nouveau middle-age, and a hotel

I hate this. The airport. Dumb fuck star-for-a day guest-listed fuck-wits, pink stetsons, earbuds, wires trailing from the head, dull-eyes staring at handheld devices, pudgy fingers prodding screens, oversized luggage (it's a hammock...) Why the fuck would you bring a hammock on a flight as hand luggage?

It's a guitar... that's right it's a guitar, it's my job and no, I can't check it because your beefy baggage handlers will drop an over-large suitcase full of bricks on top of it, break it and render it unplayable thereby negating the very reason for my undertaking this hellish trip.

I wish I could make a guitar that folds down into convenience-sized piece of hand luggage. Right now I wish I played the flute. Actually no, I don't – I know a guy who plays the flute and he can't get a girlfriend.

Why do all these people feel the need to travel? I'm sure they'd be happier if they stayed at home. I was thinking that myself at one o'clock this morning, as I unbolted a guitar neck so as to fit it into a suitcase with my ragged scraps of clothing which I'm really only taking with me to pad the effect pedals, microphones and dismantled Telecaster that make up the bulk of my luggage. Sod this, I'd be happier staying at home.

There has to be a way to simplify this.

I bought an amplifier the other day, a pariah among amplifiers: a Vox Cambridge 30 watt combo with two ten inch speakers. A transistor amplifier, very light, no tubes, no big transformers. I think it sounds really good, hard and defined. Solid state guitar amplifiers have always been frowned upon but Wilko Johnson used one for years - an HH IC100 – I had one myself at one time but I had to stop using it when the circuit boards cracked after it fell down a flight of stairs, a fall which apparently rendered it deadly as well as defunct. I don't know whatever happened to that amp.

Joe Strummer used a Roland Chorus JC120, an extremely unfashionable amplifier with not a valve or tube in sight, but he got a great sound out of it, and so does Amy with her seventy watt version of the same amp. Lightweight, compact, loud and hard-hitting, I'm all for it.

I just have to develop the folding guitar that I can put in the back of the amplifier alongside the fuzz boxes. Modular, compact, easy travel...

It's time to board the plane.

***************************

That was like a bad dream. Seven hours in a narrow seat surrounded by demanding passengers. The ever-so-slightly camp steward told the woman next to me: 

'I'll attend to you when I've finish serving tea and coffee, I've only got one pair, if you know what I mean.' 

I knew what he meant.

I like British Airways, as much as it's possible to like an airline. I prefer them to Virgin. British Airways stewardesses always find room for my guitar in the first class wardrobe where it gets to fly with the coats and hats of the rich and famous, and once even with a wedding dress. I sometimes wish I was my guitar - much loved, strummed and cossetted, admired by girls, boys, men and women alike... Travelling in a luxury wardrobe while I suffer the indignities of an economy class seat – a New York City bus offers a higher standard of comfort than the economy class cabin on a transatlantic flight.

I'm in the hotel.

It's one of those modern post-sofa-pub hotel pubs, an aspiring gastro-pub where the white painted saloon bar doubles as the breakfast room. Hand-painted lettering above the fireplace reads: life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's learning to dance in the rain.

A modern day take on middle-age. I look back wistfully to the days when men had comb-overs and women wore stretchy beige slacks. I think I was looking forward to wearing the outfits. But today you've got to let your freak flag fly, get in touch with the real you... middle-aged women of today dye their hair bright purple while the menfolk hang a dream catcher off one ear and fashion any remaining head hair into a ponytail, or worse – a pigtail. And everybody dances like nobody's looking.

Please, don't. I don't want to see that. And yes, I know, that's a sweeping generalisation. But not in Shoreham-by-Sea it isn't.

When I arrived they couldn't find my reservation. The punky older lady manning the desk told me I couldn't have booked on line that afternoon because they were already fully booked. Then they found my reservation just as I was about to show it to them on my laptop. The girl in charge took me to my room which hadn't been made up because the cleaner had left at one o'clock because they weren't expecting anyone to be staying in the room that night (fully booked?). They bought me back downstairs and offered me a drink of my choice on the house while they sorted things out.

I was upgraded at no extra charge to An Even Nicer Room. I didn't even have to tell them I was on my honeymoon, which is a good trick if you're traveling alone. If it's a restaurant of course it helps if you can let it slip that your dying of a very rare contagious disease, but the honeymoon works in hotels, they'll shut the fuck up and leave you alone.

I was quite touched by their repeated apologies for the inconvenience - I really didn't mind - it was nothing compared with the inconvenience of spending the night on a Jumbo 747 or whatever it was. And I was amused by being referred to constantly as this gentleman, and happy to sit back and enjoy my complimentary glass of orange juice.

The manager even carried my suitcase up the stairs which was good because I don't think I could have done it. Surprisingly there were no chocolates on the pillows. I spent the rest of the afternoon moving the largest number of scatter cushions off the sumptuous queen sized bed – it was labour intensive and I was running out of places to put them. And I still didn't find the chocolates.

I pulled back the king sized poly-cotton duvet and found the sumptuous queen-sized bed was really two mattresses zipped together. So I was glad I wasn't actually on my honeymoon. If I'd have told them it was my honeymoon I would have had to have gone downstairs and complained, and I really couldn't be bothered, I just wanted to lie down on my side of the queen-sized single mattress collective and sleep off the jet lag.

And just in case anyone doesn't know why I'm doing all this here's a link to my dates where you'll find links to buy tickets and make some sense of this idiocy: http://wrecklesseric.com/tour dates

Getting Ready

I feel I should make a list. A list of what I need to take with me, a list of things I need to do before I set off, a list of things I should be putting on the various lists, a list of lists....

This time feels even more weird than usual – it's not just the countdown to going on tour, it's the countdown to The Donovan Of Trash reissue which comes out next Monday, May 5th - four albums in five months, I love it and I can hardly believe it's happening.

And it's the countdown to being sixty – I don't know how that happened: I've lived for twice as long as I was originally planning to, and now I feel like I used to as a kid watching the approaching end of the summer holiday. I never wanted the summer to end, and now that old age is becoming a not too distant reality I don't want my life to end. I'm not scared of dying which is just as well because it's inevitable, but I'm certainly not ready to leave the party just yet, I'm having too good a time.

Someone's probably reading this and berating me for being morbid but I think that's more their problem than it is mine. Anyway, I'm hoping I've got another twenty or twenty five years of good health and creativity. Anything beyond that may or may not be a bonus.

When I was young I could remember with clarity everything that had happened in my life, sometimes right down to a stain on a cushion cover, a creaking door, the pattern on a floor tile that suggested a waterfall or an express train... As time goes on the experiences and attached memories stack up until looking back is almost overwhelming. And confusing. My life doesn't feel like just one life, more like a mismatched set of mini-lives, a collection of short stories, a succession of tracks that I hope will one day add up to a good album. I can't imagine how I got to where I am now and I'm surprised I've got away with it for so long.

I'd better get back to the list, try and find my passport...

14 BRIGHTON, The Prince Albert
15 BBC 6 MUSIC, Marc Riley Show
17 LONDON, The Lexington
22 HUDDERSFIELD, Vinyl Tap instore
23 LEEDS, Belgrave Music Hall
25 MANCHESTER, The Castle Hotel
26 LIVERPOOL, The Lomax
27 EDINBURGH, Voodoo Rooms
29 PARIS (tbc)

JUNE
12 PHILADELPHIA PA, The Tin Angel
14 ALBANY NY, The Low Beat
15 BUFFALO NY (tbc)
16 DETROIT MI (tbc)
17 COLUMBUS OH (details to follow)
19 MEMPHIS TN, Murphy's
20 KNOXVILLE TN, The Pilot Light
21 COLUMBIA SC, The Conundrum Music Hall
21 RICHMOND VA (tbc)
23 WASHINGTON DC, The Black Cat
24 ASBURY PARK NJ, The Saint www.thesaintnj.com
25 NEW YORK NY, The Mercury Lounge

JULY
12 HASTINGS, EAST SUSSEX UK (details to follow)
26 HOLT, NORFOLK UK, The Holt Festival with The Bad Shepherds

Wenchin' 'n' Benchin' with The Schoemer Formation

There was a jazz fusion group on before us. The front man sported a piece of driftwood fashioned over time by mother nature into an approximation of a bass guitar with a battery compartment and an extra wide neck vaulted by six big strings. Amy quite liked them, said she admired their nerdiness. I thought they needed to lose two strings and a ponytail.

The group that came on after us were God awful – drums and a percussionist, chick singer strumming an inaudible baritone ukelele, an abundance of beards, flat caps and shapeless, pseudo-Peruvian clothing. And a three man -sorry, boy - brass section with a dizzying amount of metalwork: tuba, French horn, trumpet, trombone, saxophones... they looked like music students.

The band seemed very pleased with themselves, especially the bass player – disgusting active bass sound, all bonk and doink, very unsexy, no throb. And again the wide neck with the surplus string problem. He'd evidently practised long and hard but he wasn't a player, no soul and no real groove.

Apparently this band are much loved in Albany. I thought they were smug, boring and not as good as they thought they were, though they obviously thought they were hotshots. None of the members of the other bands were particularly friendly towards us so I don't feel bad saying these things.

'I hear this is only your fifth gig,' one of them said to us in a somewhat patronising manner.

'Yes, that's right, we're newcomers to all this, unlike your goodselves. We'd always planned to buy a mobile home when we retired but I said to my wife, "You know, I've always dreamed of being in a rock band," and to to my astonishment my wife said "well, that's a coincidence because so have I." So we put the mobile home on the back burner and bought a backline instead. We've got a lot to learn but do you know what? We're absolutely loving it! Living the dream!'

In Olden Tymes, long before even my time, bands would finish the show and while their roadies cleared up the debris the band members would be off looning and wenching. At least this is the mythology that has been handed down. Karen Schoemer comes to the business of being a rock group vocalist a little late in life but she's a keen student and eager to learn everything she can from load-in to after-show party. So I'm doing my best to school her in the ways of rock.

'What do we do now?' she asked after our first show, a packed-out affair at The Spotty Dog in Hudson. I didn't want to disappoint her so I told her we'd be off a-wenching.

I was worried that there was something sexist about that idea but she seemed to like it, so off we went, me, Amy and Karen, a-wenching as best we could. Amy had a glass of whisky that she couldn't finish while Karen and I each enjoyed a ginger ale with a cocktail cherry. As far as I'm aware those were the only cherries that were popped that night. I don't think The Schoemer Formation are very good at wenching.

In order to bring wenching up to date a female equivalent had to be invented. I thought long and hard for nearly five minutes and came up with benching, as in nice muscles – how much do you bench?
And even though we're not very good at it I'm thinking it's an odds on bet that we could out wench and bench any of the bands we played with the other night in Albany.

Hanging Out In Public Places

We've just spent two nights in succession at the BSP Lounge in Kingston, down the road from us here in Catskill where according to Mojo magazine we live in bohemian squalor. They pulled that from a biography piece I wrote and somehow the word splendour got translated to squalor. So just for the record we live in Catskill NY in bohemian splendour.

Except when we're practically moving into the BSP Lounge.

We went down on Thursday night to see Laura Cantrell. A captivating set – just Laura and an acoustic guitar player who's name escapes me for the moment. Two acoustic guitars, a harmony vocal and a bit of acoustic lap steel. They started with Amy's song Don't Break The Heart and ended with an Amy Allison song – a mesmorising set book-ended by Amys!

I only wish the people at the back hadn't been talking – it was like a bus station in there. I don't think people realise sometimes how loud they're being, and I think they forget why they're there. They meet their friends, get excited and the evening turns into a social occasion with music in the background.

One has to be forgiving, they don't mean any harm, but I wish they'd shut the fuck up.

We didn't have that problem last night when The Schoemer Formation opened for Purple K'nif. I think there may have been as many as ten people in the audience and most of them were a dancing Jane Scarpantoni. Jane is a great cello player, and one of my favourite people to hang out with.

I'm writing this in my preferred coffee place, Swallow on Warren Street in Hudson. It's not the ideal place to be writing on a Saturday morning. I'm getting increasingly annoyed by a rich, middle-aged, house-hunting gay couple at the next table. One of them keeps reading stuff out loud from a magazine that must be called Sumptuous Homes or some such drivel.

I'm going to have another espresso – it's a two espresso day.

The Sumptuous Homes out loud reading guy seems to have put a sock in it, he could probably hear what I was writing. They're leaving so I'll drop it, except to say that there's got to be a cut-off age and weight for wearing a candy striped blazer - he looks like all of The Troggs poured into one garment.

It's not a pretty sight, unlike the young hipster couple making out at one of the other tables. Oh to be young again.

We're playing with The Schoemer Formation tonight at The Low Beat in Albany NY. For anyone who doesn't know - which is almost everybody in the entire world - The Schoemer Formation is the writer Karen Schoemer delivering poetry and spoken word, backed up by Amy on keyboards and electric guitar, and me on the bass guitar, fuzz boxes and echo units. According to our bio which we wrote ourselves we're a three piece in the tradition of The Doors, Suicide and Two Lone Swordsmen.

Here's a link for a new Wreckless Eric Radio Show – I really should have played The Doors, Suicide and Two Lone Swordsmen so that everyone could have admired the synchronicity and integration of my act, but I hadn't thought of it then so I didn't and haven't.

wreckless eric radio show #39 

And before I go a ticket link for my 60th birthday bash in London on May 17th: TICKETS!

And here come the tour dates:

MAY
14 BRIGHTON, The Prince Albert www.wegottickets.com/event/267391
15 BBC 6 MUSIC, Marc Riley Show, session with band
17 LONDON, The Lexington – Eric’s 60th Birthday TICKETS all star band spectacular!
23 LEEDS, Belgrave Music Hall - jumborecords.co.uk/tickets - wegottickets
25 MANCHESTER, The Castle Hotel
26 LIVERPOOL, The Lomax
27 EDINBURGH, Voodoo Rooms TICKET LINK
JUNE
12 PHILADELPHIA PA, The Tin Angel
14 ALBANY NY, The Low Beat thelowbeat.com
19 MEMPHIS TN, Murphy's
20 KNOXVILLE TN, The Pilot Light www.thepilotlight.com21 COLUMBIA SC, The Conundrum Music Hall http://conundrum.us/calendar
23 WASHINGTON DC, The Black Cat www.blackcatdc.com
24 ASBURY PARK NJ, The Saint www.thesaintnj.com
25 NEW YORK NY, The Mercury Lounge

JULY
26 HOLT, NORFOLK UK, The Holt Festival with The Bad Shepherds TICKET LINK