< previous | next >

We've got some time in the morning, so Mike, Daisy and I take a walk
around the neighborhood. We trot down West End Lane, the "Long and
Winding Road" the Beatles sang about, before it turns into Abbey Road.
We don't go quite far enough to see the most famous spot, but it's nice
enough just to take a walk. We stop in market for sandwiches on the
way back, tell Nuala thanks and goodbye, then hit the road to
Birmingham.

Guess what? When we get to Birmingham it's raining. We arrive at The
Rainbow and do the same old routine -- load in, soundcheck, eat
whatever food is provided (which in this case is mostly snacks and
junk food) and drink whatever beer we're given. Today we're given
Carling, which is a poor excuse for beer followed by the delicious
surprise of a case of Grolsch. Then we wait to play through a series
of loud, noisy bands and talk to our friends. Jonny is again looking
for a Western Union, but we convince him to wait -- after all, we're only
in the UK for two more days, then we'll be back on the Euro.

A decent crowd has turned out for the set, but it seems like a handful
up front just don't get it; they're just slamming into people and
hurting them. After a few words from Eddie and a few more songs, they
don't really want to hear, they lose interest and fade away. The power
is weird in this venue, and there's a massive noise floor, especially
since our amps are turned up so loud. I blow another fuse in my synth
and have to replace it, which sucks but is better than what would have
happened without a fuse.

After our set, the place is opened up for a dance party, indie rock
mostly in the bar area and anything goes in the show space. Of course
the crowd goes nuts when the DJ plays "Beat It."

"You can't escape him, mate. Michael Jackson's everywhere," says a
slightly swaying guy next to me, engaging in the sort of conversations
men have at urinals.

"I know," I respond, "it's like he's more alive now than ever."

After making fools of ourselves on the dance floor for a while, we load
our equipment out to a Blur song and make tracks back to London.

Pulling into West Hampsted quite late, poor Nuala wakes up to let us
in. We pile into their living room, trying not to awaken Nuala's
visiting father, asleep in the guest room. I throw my sleeping bag
onto a matress on the floor and start snoozing.

The Rainbow - http://www.myspace.com/rainbowevents
 

About the Author

Phillip Price is the keyboard player for Wilkes-Barre-based band An Albatross.

Archives

• August 2009
• July 2009
• October 2008
• September 2008