We’ve spent far too long on a two block stretch in Poland. Walking one hour in either direction from what they like to call a hotel, there was little save for a pair of pastry shops and some mechanics. Oh, and soot. Lots of soot.
The show went… well, let’s be fair to ourselves. In all fairness, we licked donkey balls while giving a reach around to a syphilitic gorilla. I think that would be basically how anyone would’ve described us. It was pretty damn bad. That’s what we get for not practicing our set for oh, I don’t know, a month? Raul biffed the second song big time, Sean couldn’t remember riffs, myself as well, and my bass not only had a problem in the input, but I also broke a string half-way through the set. Perfect!
Yeah, it was bad. I think there were two kids who enjoyed it… well, they kinda thought it was okay, at least. I reminisced upon other first show of tour shows, and I have to say, we’ve uniformly managed to suck. Never come see us on our first show on any given tour. You’re are sure to see and hear the visual and audio equivalent of shit.
Colin from Vile told us it was a good “warm up” show. Then they went on and played a set that sounded like a CD playing. After Sean had complimented Mike from Deeds of Flesh on their set, Mike said it wasn’t good according to his “standards.” Apparently, we have low standards. We think if you miss just on out of every 2000 1/24th notes, you’re doing okay.
The people showed their appreciation by buying one shirt. W00t!!1
Back at the hotel, we drank away. It was pointed out that we managed to nearly polish off all the beer the venue gave to us while the other bands barely put a dent in theirs. Go Impaled! At least we’re good at something.
The bad news that hit was our Nightliner was apparently broken down. It was a possibility that we would have to cancel our Friday night Berlin show. This, of course, is where all the bands have had their merchandise sent. Needless to say, none of us were pleased. Mariusz, the tour director, managed to save the day. He got us a coach bus that will get us to Berlin where we’ll meet up with hopefully the two Nightliners we’ll be living in for a month.
Here’s the fun part: the coach bus. We had to load all the backline, luggage, guitars, and merchandise that the bands had brought with them. Let me describe my situation right now… behind me, is stacked to the ceiling and over my head are cardboard boxes and at least one giant case of drum stands. To my left on the seat is my bass, our bag of merch, and some luggage. To my right is more cardboard boxes. Now, I know, I shouldn’t complain because I’m on a bus in Europe on tour. But fuck you. It’s tight. I’m sandwiched in tighter than John Holmes inside a Barely Legal model.
At four in the morning we started this process of completely overloading a bus. Sean and I partook in some victor gin, aka Polish wodka, and I can see why they cling to the stuff. My nerves were steeled, or at least numbed, to the cold. Go wodka.
Now I’m getting car sick typing this, so I’m gonna lay me down to rest.