gadge comes up to the stage and goes "bpllaaauuoossbelfascheeeer" I go "You what?" "bpllaaay uss belfas' chheeerrr" So I get the mic and I go "An' a big Belfast cheer to our friends over there!" That seems to satisfy the old gadge and we play on with the set. It's a good 'un, we play like crazy and at the end of it the Rat rolls about on the floor like a madman suckin' an' blowin' out the harmonica ending to Seroxat. By the time he's done he's cut his mouth all to hell. But he doesn't care. We're all pretty lifted off the music. The pissed up old bloke comes up an I shake his hand. He shouts in me ear, breathin' fumes all over me:
Pissed bloke "Ye didnae plaaarr Belfas' cheeeel"
Me  "eh?"
Pissed bloke "Belfas' cheel'! U2! Ye didnae play Belfas' chile!"
Me  "Oh right! Yeah, sorry mate we don't do covers"
Fuck me! The incoherent ol' bugger was after a U2 cover! I mean U2! Of all the pompous false fuckers to cover! OK it's a good song, but that Bonio bloke is a w*****.

We take in the last band's set (we have to 'cos they're using our drums) they're pretty good, baggy type of sound, I like 'em. Wish I could remember their name. I sit there drinkin' coffee and screwin' meself up for the night drive to get us south of the hellish knot of motorways around Birmingham, we've got a gig in Southampton tomorrow, y'see. We finally pack up and sod off gone midnight. It's hard to get the Rat to come away, intent as he is on boozing.

And so I entered the first circle of Hell. Driving South, in the pitch dark totally strung-out and knackered with a huge Rat, (he's 6'2", but he always manages to take up more room than me and I'm the same size.... it's an apeish territorial thing I think) drunk and stoned leaping around in the van.

"I want some food! Where's the food! I want to put the music on! Got to put the music on!"

"Phil", I says "I'm really strung out here and I really need to concentrate on driving, don't put any music on."

It's true, I'm a shite driver at the best of times. One of the reasons I insisted on buying a van was 'cos I knew I'd scratch it/crash it into a wall in a car park - and I did. If it'd had been a hire it'd have cost us a bomb for a couple of dents. By now the heater's packed in (later we figure out that this is 'cos the coolant has leaked out) and I'm driving wearing all my coats, hat and gloves - freezing and hallucinating... I was seriously confusing the opposite carriageway with a slip road.

Piss stop. I tell the Rat we're only here for two seconds, I've really got to get where we're going and crash out. The Rat of course does't give a shit. He's straight into the services and fannies about for 15 minutes shoplifting sandwiches. Eating these in the van he'd get more in his mouth and less on the floor, the seats, the dash etc. if you tied his hands behind his back and made him eat out of a bucket. If I had the energy I'd kill the bastard.

Thank Christ George-the-Drums-bloke is along, he gets pretty nervy zipping down the motorway so he takes on the daunting task of calming the Rat, who by now is like a massive toddler shouting and fidgeting as we hurtle along at 70mph. There is a total sense of the surreal here. I focus every drop of energy onto driving and try to tune the Rat out, who is constantly shouting ('most all really drunk people just talk in a constant monotone shout) about the gig, the band, how we should have spent the lottery money differently instead of doing this tour, how we should do the album, how hungry he is and blahblahblah which all basically add up to "PAY ATTENTION TO ME! PAY ATTENTION TO ME!". At this stage we're on an evens chance of death by rusty van crash. George manages to distract the Rat from shouting at me, but ends up having to let the Rat give him a full Tarot reading in the back of the van. As we shoot past Birmingham I can hear the Rat bellowing:

"Now that's Death, but that's not a bad thing that just means like a really big change in your life..."
I can't help thinking that this is not likely to calm an already nervy George.
Back to Channel Idris Main Page            Previous Page           Next  Page