We're locked out of the venue for an hour or so and it's freezing and lashing rain. We sit and eat soup in the back of the van. Lentil.

The folk running the venue come back and let us in.
It's a great looking venue and big too, we're looking forward to a great gig here. Then the promoter tells us that the headline band The Rolling Clones pulled out, three days ago. So they want us to play two sets. We load in and set up, back drops and all. It's freezing and pissing rain still, but one or two people start to come in. We're all sat in the !dressing room! about 8.45pm working out an extended set list when the folks running the venue come in.

"We're sorry about this but no-one's turned up at all. And we had a long night last night so we want to shut the club now. You'll have to take your gear down and load out now." Not - Hey, here's a drink guys, thanks for coming, but - just fuck off right now.

"What happened to them seven or eight people I saw in the bar?" I says.

"Oh, they came to see the headline band and when they saw they weren't on they cleared off"


"You could have let us know the headliners pulled out when you found out on Tuesday" I says.

"We couldn't get hold of you."

"The answer phone's on with my pager number on it, you can always get hold of us."

There's one of those awkward moments when one bunch of people in the room are being pretty well stuffed by the other bunch who frankly just don't give a shit. I'm furious, but there's fuck all we can do but smile and eat the shit and say yes, we'll come back another time... Hahaha!!!! and then calm down and really take our fucking time loading out. Oh, and the Rat and George try to nick the complementary stage towels, but the venue notices and I have to give 'em back and tell 'em they got mixed up with our gear.

So now we sleep in the van and the car in a back street in an industrial estate for fuck all point. Crap promoters - bane of my life.

On the bright side, this is the last night of this, and 'cos George girl and Stuart have taken a B&B - I get away from the Rat to kip in the car, YESSSS!!!! I'm too knackered to drive any more - I've got cramps in my arms and legs from driving that tank of a van and a stinking cold - and so Stuart's agreed to drive the van tomorrow. George girl has been driving the car / trailer all tour, so I'm done driving, thank Christ. We agree to meet up again tomorrow at 9am to get to Brighton early so the Rat can get to his flat and round up some mates to come to the gig, 'tho from the experience up North I know George and Stuart will be an hour late coming out of the B&B, but I don't give a shit, I get well cosy in the car and I'm out for the count.....


Tour Day 18 10/10/97 - BRIGHTON ROCK

.....until, George bloke scares the hell out of me by banging on the car window at 9am to wake me up. I forgot to mention to him that George girl and Stuart would odds-on be late. He hassles me 'til I get up. We end up having a row in the street 'cos George bloke is under the false impression that:
1) I'm not COMPLETELY FUCKED and that it would be perfectly easy for me to drive the van 30miles to the nearest M/way services for breakfast
and
2) that George girl and Stuart will easily find us again, by telepathy maybe? so that it will be easy for