Well, there was some problems. This was the one night that the promoter insisted that Impaled not open the show, but play as direct support. Duh, this was going to a problem. For months, I'd been asking this cat, Pove, if this would be cool, if he'd cleared it with other folks. He'd said yes, and indeed, he had cleared it with the tour organizer. The first night, I'd made sure to talk to the other bands about it. This wasn't our deal, we didn't ask for it, we were told.
Well, we get to Birmingham, I meet this guy Pove. He was a nice guy, showed me around a bit while I waited for the other guys to wake up. He showed me a comic shop in the UK, and come to find out, it's a lot like a comic shop in the U.S., except loads more Dr. Who merchandise. Christ, they love the Dr. Who in England.
The show, loading up, started decently enough. The club was at the top of the stairs, but fuck it, the club itself was cool. Loads of paintings of monsters from famous movies all around. I was stoked. The only shit started was when I started getting a ration of shit about the line-up change from two guys from Monstrosity. Like I said, everyone else was very cool about it, but these two guys were relentless. Were they kidding? Maybe, but I was already sensitive about how this might go down, and it pissed me off. The only people it didn't effect kept giving me shit despite my explanations, and wouldn't stop even as I kidded with them about it.
Well, I got quite sick of it, and wouldn't go with the rest of the tour for dinner. Which, apparently, turned into quite the scene itself. The promoter had made sure everyone would be fed, but one person just had to get in his face about a soda or something. Now, I wasn't there, so maybe this is all heresay. But here's the thing... the promoter also doubles as a cop, so he's not so much to be fucked with. Apparently, he put said person in his place. According to him, he made the band member his "bitch."
Good. Some of the whining on this tour has really put me at odds. The bulk of people are quite cool, quite willing to chip in. But the whiners... ugh, how can they say they are metal when they're bitching about the most trivial of things? How metal is it to complain about not being pampered enough? It boggles the mind.
Right, so here's how the show in Brum went down... fucking great for all involved. Either the promoter overjudged us and it didn't matter, or perhaps he judged perfectly correctly and the night went great because of it. In any case, everyone did well. So great. Impaled went nuts and we just had a great fucking time. Birmingham, we love you.
Then, onto London. I had my doubts, as this show started so fucking early in order to make way for a goth club later on. As it turned out, people were lined up and we had a really good set in front of a lot of cool people. The one guy to give us shit bought us all beers and showed us around later on, so obviously, he was just taking a piss. That's good for laugh.
There was some technical foul ups, but mostly I'm just glad we're all having a good time, and yup, getting tour tight. Well, for Impaled. The other bands have us blown out of the water for tightness.
Sean and I busted out for a few and I FINALLY got to see one of the locations I've longed to see for so long, 10 Bells Pub. That is, the infamous pub that Jack the Ripper's victims all met at. God knows how we found it, because we were lost as fuck, but eventually there it was before us. I was stoked, as I was shortchanged out of seeing this place before. Come to find out, it's a tiny little place, quite ugly, really. But dammit, I was there.
Back, we loaded out, the goths came in, and we headed to pub around the block. Even Jason, who just drank Coke. We met up with some cool folks from around here, and one crazy Czech chick obsessing about her tits being too small (they weren't) and her boyfriend. The only fucking bummer was when this Polish guy came up to me and said "Make your vocals lower..." which was fine. I laughed and said I'd try. Then he said "No, I'm serious, and I will smash your face in." What the fuck? Good lord, I was ready to throw down. Threaten me? I really didn't know what to say, he was friends with these other people, and obviously, they didn't know what to say. I let the moment pass, and they left, but god dammit... fuck you, you piece of shit. I don't know your name, but if you read this, stay the fuck away. You were about three seconds from getting a pint glass struck to your ugly head.
Critique me all you want, but momma says if you got nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all. Enjoy the snow in Poland, I'll be in Cali, beyotch.
After that, Raul, Sean, Mike from Deeds, me, and this other cat (fuck, I don't remember names) had a killer time walking around, drinking, and finding some shit to eat. Today, I've had awesome crepes and fallafels. London is pretty fun, for a fucked up town with crazy drivers on the wrong side of the road.