Malcolm Middleton, Prostitutes and Beer-mats

Hey heySo I'm kind of picking up where I left off a wee while ago. My commitment to keeping our stream of blogs slightly more human has perhaps drifted a little, but better late than never etc.

Plenty has happened since I last wrote, but in this particular little memoir, I'd like to skim over our trip to Amsterdam a couple of months back. What a fucking mental trip that was! We got there the day of the show. We played at the Paradiso along with the cream of Scotland (Malcolm Middleton, 1990s, De Rosa, Mother and the Addicts, Bricolage, We Are The Physics). As if this wasn't nerve-racking enough, we had to play last! I was speaking to Malcolm Middleton before our set, explaining how nervous I was. It would seem that the dry Mr Middleton is not the best motivator in the world:

Me: I'm fucking shittin myself!

MM: Why?

Me: It's a big gig, lots of great bands on before us...

MM: Just think about the history of the venue

Me: I know, Nirvana, the Rolling Stones, Sex Pistols...

MM: ...Malcolm Middleton! (pause, no smile) Do you rehearse?

Me: Well...

MM: Then you'll be fine. (Mr Middleton exits stage left and walks towards a less tedious source of conversation)

Anyway, we were fine. I think. We weren't sure when we came off stage but we saw the gig online afterwards (www.fabchannel.com/popup) and we liked the sweat. Sorry if I come across as particularly obnoxious in that performance, but I was very tired and nervous. I react to those emotions by being a bit of a cock. However, all nerves were settled soon afterwards in the comforting bosom of Mother and the Addicts dressing room. End of.

However, the Amsterdam trip only started there. Because of our limited budget, the cheapest way for us to get there and back was to fly in on friday and back on monday. So we were left with a whole weekend in Amsterdam. For a start, I have never seen so many beautiful women in my life as I did in the Paradiso and in Amsterdam's lovely parks - but sadly there are no interesting stories of that type to report. On our second night, our manager's son (Sebastian) who lives in Amsterdam and who was very kindly playing host to us all, took us on a tour of Amsterdam's red light district. After half a legally purchased joint and single-file trek through a five foot wide window parade, all of our casuality towards rock'n'roll decadence died in a great big hurry. Personally I couldn't even speak for about 3 hours afterwards. Seb took me to a nice watering hole and pulled us back to life by showing us how to build houses out of beer-mats. I took pictures of my beer-mat houses and of nothing else...

Anyway, otherwise we're fine. album still 'nearly' done, festivals great, playing shows meeting lovely people, no money in pockets - the usual Popup.

Love

Damian x