To Helsinki and back (a.k.a. Oh Lordi!, Seven Deadly Fins etc etc)

Time for the first ever Ruts D.C. show in Finland, at a night celebrating the 25th anniversary of Stupido Records at The Circus in Helsinki.

Dave, Segs and myself met up at The Music Complex in Deptford at 11 o'clock on Thursday morning; after a three hour rehearsal we then made our way to Jamm in Brixton to resume work on our upcoming live album. Up until this point we had been listening to a show recorded last year in Bremen but we since we have just been provided with a multi-track recording of our gig at The Carlisle in Hastings from March earlier this year we decided to have a listen through that to see if anything could be considered for release. It was an energetic show if a little rough around the edges in places (it was our third show of the evening and they'd all been in pubs...) but even so a couple of songs stood out and so were earmarked for further consideration. Work then continued on Friday afternoon before I took the tube up to Angel Station to catch punk covers band No Lip supporting The Sex Pistols Experience at The Islington Academy. I've known No Lip guitarist Pete for many years - he used to play in a band with my brother Terry back in the day, and since their old bass player Steve was depping with the band it seemed like a good opportunity to both meet up with them and see how the band was getting on. They sounded good, better than when I saw them back in June last year, although I don't mind admitting that it was a bit odd to see them playing Ruts songs and dedicating them to me. Weird! I had only intended to stay for a few songs from The Sex Pistols Experience as I had an early start on Saturday morning, but they sounded so good that I ended up watching the whole show (and it must be said that a few beers from the No Lip lads were quite persuasive in this area too!) Somehow I found myself behind their merchandise table too - I'm really not sure how that happened, but it was good to spend a bit of time talking to Dave their drummer after the show. A good if possible ill-advised evening, as my alarm was set for 4am...

...which was exactly when it went off. I'd had a little under four hours sleep, and too much to drink at the gig. Not good frankly. Still no point in worrying about that now - there's a cab booked and I've got to be in it. And somehow I made it to Heathrow Airport in time for our intended meeting at the Finnair check-in - in no time at all we were through security and in The Bridge Bar getting breakfast (or in the case of Segs and Nick the soundman a pint of Guinness!) I managed to sleep for much of the flight despite the best efforts of some noisy children in the seats in front of me and some nasty turbulence; after collecting our luggage and guitars we met Ollie from Stupido Records who drove us to The Hotel Presidentti (narrowly avoiding a collision with a car just as we left the airport) where there was a certain amount of confusion over our reservations and indeed who was paying for our rooms. Fortunately it all got sorted out in the end.
Judging by the posters in and round the venue The Circus seems to be a thriving place, with the likes of Television, The Manic Street Preachers and Primal Scream all making appearances in the not-too distant future. When we arrived at our allotted time for setting up and soundchecking we found all the doors to be locked - after spending a couple of minutes attempting to call the promoter and to attract the attention of somebody inside we went to the restaurant next door for a coffee before someone from the venue eventually came in to find us. We were on with The Valkyrians, JMKE and the astonishingly-named Anal Thunder - remember this is the country that unleashed 'Hard Rock Hallelujah' by Lordi on the unsuspecting Eurovision Song Contest - I was using the latter band's Marshall JCM900 set-up which despite looking a bit tatty (I went to grab the handle in the side of the 4x12'' speaker cabinet and my hand went right inside as there was no handle there!) sounded excellent. Soundcheck went well, after which we met Stupido Records mainman Joose and went back to the restaurant for something to eat before walking back around the corner to our hotel.
I woke up around half past eight, which meant that I'd missed Anal Thunder. Bugger. (I realise that I haven't perhaps used the best word there, but you get the idea...) Still I did see a bit of their soundcheck and they sounded good, as did JMKE and The Valkyrians, who included a splendid version of Wire's 'I Am The Fly' in their set. We went on at midnight - there could have been more people there (apparently there was a punk festival on nearby) but there was more than enough of an audience to make it work, and it's a great show from start to finish. Afterwards there's a 3 litre box of vodka (Ooo!) in the dressing room and lots of people to talk to (including members of local band The Rude Boys who specialise in Ruts cover versions) before heading back to our hotel - the night club is still open, where the music is not particularly to our taste but we're still in there until gone 4 o'clock...

I woke up a little after midday. (Molara had very cleverly had the foresight to arrange for us to have the late check-out time of 2pm - excellent!) All things considered I didn't feel bad, although I'm not sure how. Still I've long missed breakfast so it's time for a shower and then to search for some coffee before meeting up with the rest of the troops and planning the rest of our day. We're not due at the airport until half past five so we put our bags and instruments into storage at the hotel and walk into town for a look around and something to eat. We then returned to the hotel and somewhat inevitably found ourselves in the bar. Nick and myself are following the Liverpool vs. Manchester City game on our phones until Nick has a brainwave and finds it on one of the computers in the lobby - we tune in just in time to see City's first goal. Bah!
At 5 o'clock Ollie arrives and takes us to the airport - we check in and go through security with no problems before waiting for what seems like an age in The Sports Bar, eventually we give up trying to get served (Nick attempted to catch the attention of a waiter who just said 'yeah yeah' and walked off!) and go to a cafe. Whatever happened to service with a smile eh? Still our flight home was pleasingly uneventful (no noisy children, no turbulence - hurrah!) and I got home just in time to see the Liverpool game on 'Match Of The Day'. Could they win the League?  Oooh I hope so...

Let it bleed

Did you want to be old when you were young? I don't mean 'old' old, like your nan or grandad or the people who lived a few doors down, I mean old as in 'grown up' so that you could do the things that the grown ups do, like stay up late. I certainly wanted to stay up late when I was a kid, although thinking back I don't know why I thought that would make things better or more exciting. Strange... maybe one of the differences between being old and young is that when you're young you want to be older and when you're old you want to be younger? Anyway when I was about 8 or 9 I had a nosebleed. It was a Saturday evening and I had really bad hay fever (still have!) I blew my nose rather a lot before I went to bed, and I woke up a little after going to sleep thinking that my nose was running. When I looked down there was blood everywhere. Everywhere. It literally felt like it was pouring out of my face, which I suppose it was if you think about it. My mum screamed when she saw me. She and my dad tried to stop it with all the usual methods - cold flannels, holding the bridge of your nose etc - but to no avail. After about an hour things were getting serious, and mum called the doctor out. He was an old (and therefore allowed to stay up late) chap called Dr. Fenton - when he examined me he said that I'd burst a blood vessel in my nose and that it would eventually stop and that I'd be 'ok in the morning'. I think it finally stopped after just over 2 hours. I still get nosebleeds today, in fact I had one earlier this week. Horrible things.

So - why am I telling you this? Well, by the time the nosebleed had stopped, 'Match Of The Day' was about to start on the television. This was a mythical programme to me as some of my school mates were allowed to stay up late enough to watch it, and they said that it was better than 'The Big Match' which was the Sunday afternoon football programme that I used to watch with great enthusiasm. Anyway because I was still awake (and feeling rather weird as I recall) I was allowed to watch 'Match Of The Day'. It was good, but not worth losing half of the blood in your body for.

I had another nosebleed on Friday morning. It was nearly 6 a.m. and once again I'd woken up thinking that my nose was running; it wasn't anywhere near as bad as the one I've described above but it was still pretty unpleasant. By the time it had stopped I realised I wasn't going to get back to sleep and so decided to go downstairs for a cup of coffee. After I'd made it I decided to put the telly on, which caused a moment of mild panic as the volume was quite high and I had to turn it down quickly so as not to wake anybody up. When the picture came on 'Columbo' was playing - strange, why is that on at this time of day? It's normally shown in the afternoon on one of those weird channels that never seem to work properly. You know the ones. When I was a lad I remember avidly watching 'Columbo' on television, where the scruffy little chap in the raincoat would outwit the bad guy every time. I loved the way that he'd zero in on the murderer, seeming to be naive or even stupid then wearing them down with his peculiar mannerisms and stories of his wife, or his cousin, or his wife's cousin, or Burt who serves him chili, then leaving the murderer (who therefore thought they'd got away with it) before reappearing with the words 'just one more thing...' when they thought they'd seen the last of him. Great stuff. I even enjoyed the later episodes although the '60s and '70s ones are still the best for me. It was and remains one of the best television series ever created, and as such it was sad to turn on Breakfast Television on Friday morning to see a clip of it being played, because that could only mean that Peter Falk had died. Shame.

Last night I depped in The Repertoire Dogs. I'd been looking forward to this gig since I got a call a while back from Good Old Boys / Ali Mac Band guitarist Simon Bishop, who asked me if I'd be interested in playing with said band. Well of course I would, not least because their regular guitarist is none other than Mick Ralphs. Yes, that Mick Ralphs, the bloke out of Mott The Hoople and Bad Company. Strange but true. Anyway not long after this I got a call from Nick the singer who explained the situation - Hud's on drums, Nigel's on bass, Freya and Ann are on vocals and it's a 50th birthday party somewhere near Harlow. 'Simon will go through the set with you as I'm not in the least bit musical' he said cheerily, before going on to be very disparaging about his own vocal abilities. He then revealed that he'd 'started the band for a bet' after going to a Bryan Adams concert with a friend - 'and here we are, 11 years later'. Like I say, I was looking forward to this one...

As we arrived in Hastingwood I realised that this was a rather different area to the one that The Price visited on numerous occasions when we used to play at The Square in Harlow. We're playing in a marquee in the garden - maybe that should be 'grounds' - of a rather large house, and the first thing we notice is that there's a generator humming rather noisily nearby. 'I bet that's a note that's just out of tune with us' says Nigel as we're setting up; we decide that if we play loudly enough then it won't matter. I'd only met Nigel briefly a couple of times before, he's just finished a tour with comedian Rich Hall (where he was known as Horst Furst II - excellent!) and plays regularly with Half A Meal Ticket among others. We run through a few beginnings, middles and ends before the guests start arriving, it's all sounding good and a fine evening is in prospect. There's an acoustic duo on before us, they've both seen us 'playing in local pubs' and really like our version of 'Don't Stop Believing'. No one in the band reacts although I expect they were all thinking roughly the same as me - 'perhaps there's another band with the same name around here then. And they must look like us as well...'

After a search for an appropriate lead Freya's iPod provides some background music as food and drink starts to appear; we're all sitting around a table near the marquee when a loud POP comes from with general direction of the marquee; the music stops, the lights go out and quite a few people make a noise along the lines of 'OOOOH!' Investigation reveals that someone behind the (makeshift) bar had plugged a fridge in, causing a current surge large enough to melt the extention cable. With people complaining that were no lights on in the portaloos things are unplugged, the generator turned back on and everything returns to normal.

We start 'Jumpin Jack Flash' at 9.15 to what might best be described as 'polite indifference' from all concerned - a shame as I thought we were sounding good. When someone comes up to me in the interval as says words to the effect of 'everyone's enjoying it, they're just not dancing' it makes me feel a bit better, and our second set gets a bit more of a reaction although there are no demands for an encore at the end. As we turn our amps off Nigel said 'well played that man' which means a lot to me coming from a player as good as he is; I think I did ok but a few of the songs were in unusual keys which threw me a bit - if I get chance to play with them again I'll make a better job of it. No really, I will. And it was a shame that the audience were a bit subdued as I really had been looking forward to the show. Oh well. You can't win 'em all. Unless you're Columbo of course. 'Oh sir, just one more thing...'