We arrived in Frankfurt nice and early after a very cheerful overnight drive. It’s always good to get the first show under your belt and, given there weren’t too many hiccups, most people let off any pent up steam through the medium of drink.
Bed times ranged anywhere from 2.00 am to 5.00 am, with the exponents of the latter proving very unpopular with the former the next morning!
We dropped the poor old crew off at the venue around 10.00 am to get started with the set up and the band headed off to the Intercontinental to check in and do whatever each of us does with our free time.
Me, I like to work. Catch up on emails, documents and generally take care of any business that needs to be taken care of. Others have a much more relaxed attitude.
Andrea, for example, will head to her room, lock the door (only to be opened for room service) and watch the omnibus editions of just about every soap under the sun.
Mick plays Candy Bloody Crush
Each to their own, I guess.
The show tonight is an early start – 8.00pm on stage for us – so by the time I had finished up my stuff, had a bath and read my book a little, it was time to head off for sound check.
Rock ‘n Roll.
The venue was a beautiful old and typically germanic Rathaus which, whilst being a fascinating setting, offered one of the smallest stages of the tour. Not a problem per se except that it severely restricted the brass section’s dance moves.
The flick flacks were definitely out tonight!
I guess we weren’t fully aware of how nervous we all were on the first night in Zurich because, with that out of the way and everyone feeling much more relaxed, tonight’s show was a different kettle of fish altogether.
From out of the blocks we were all gunning for it and the crowd were absolutely up for a party too. It was one of those amazing nights which leave you buzzing at the end. The whole room was going to have fun and NOTHING was going to stop them.
At the soundcheck we had made a couple of small changes to the set but no-one let this hold them back and, if there were any wobbly bits, I certainly didn’t notice them. I was too busy enjoying myself.
I can always tell when I’ve really enjoyed a gig because afterwards it feels like my top lip has just gone 15 rounds with Mike Tyson.
When you play the trumpet the idea is to be controlled at all times, with a relaxed demeanour, focusing all of the energy you create with the air down the mouthpiece of the trumpet. At no point should you be tense and you should certainly never be applying undue pressure to the instrument on the lips.
Then you have a few drinks and the audience start screaming and you just jam it on as hard as you can and blow like hell!
It’s a tried and tested system.
Once again, Lisa was on top form. I know it gets a little boring saying that but it’s absolutely true. She’s always on form!
As you might imagine, post gig was buzzing as we headed back to the hotel to have a couple of hours relaxation before jumping on the bus to head overnight to Hamburg.
Back in the bath with the book for Johnny Boy (they didn’t used to call me marine boy for nothing) whilst the usual suspects headed for the bar for a night cap.
Highlight of the evening was most definitely Andrea, who spent a lot of time on the bus trip swearing that she doesn’t really drink.
Sadly she had been well and truly Donnellied* and no amount of liquorice tea was going to sober her up. I think the toasted crumpets we made helped a little but when I went to bed around 2.00am she was still utterly incoherent.
And so, dear reader, to Hamburg………..
* Donnellied Adj. to make the mistake of going to a bar which sells cocktails with Mickey Donnelly.