Go West!

18/3/2007 - Travel to LA / Joshua Tree, Pappy's and Harriet's

This is a test. The morning after...my first waking thought is that I feel terrible, and that we are going to playing a gig in a different time zone this evening. Before that, we have to get on two planes. Right now, that doesn't seem feasible. Still, Greg is in fine spirits as always this morning and some of his zest for life rubs off on me as we drive to the Airport. The drop off point is awash with bands lugging gear onto the pavement, and we bump into our friend Gabe and his sister from Manchester. The check in staff have mercy upon us today, and have no qualms with the amount of gear and luggage we are taking onboard. Sometimes these people can purposefully make life a misery, but thankfully not today, as that could have been the final straw that broke me. We're heading out to LA, but have to change at El Paso. Direct flights to and from Austin are not that frequent, and incredibly oversubscribed. As we wait in the departure lounge, the familiar face of Starsailor's James Walsh appears. He played a couple of songs at the Gram Parson's gig the other night, and he is on the same flights as us. We have a good chat, and he seems a very Good Soul (arf)! It turns out that he is on his way back to London, but is heading further west to change in LA. It is suggested to Mr Walsh, by us, that he may want to consider sacking his travel agent.

As the plane readies itself for take off, I am feeling increasingly queasy and I feel the colour draining from my face. The woman next to my takes pity on me during the flight, and makes sure I eat crackers to settle my stomach, and it works. Her kind deed will not be forgotten. We arrive at El Paso and board the plane to LAX. As we walk down the tunnel I hear Garo say "this time should be less than the last time." That in itself does not make sense, but I managed to de-code his statement to mean "I don't envisage the flight to LA will not take as long as the flight from Austin to here." Garo's rambling reminded me of something Robin said when we arrived in New York last year. Upon looking at the amount of snow that had been shovelled off the runways, he commented "they make big snow here one time." Incoherence is an inevitable part of being in a road frazzled rock band, but as long as everyone communicates in a similarly dysfunctional way, then it at least becomes less problematic to understand.

Joe heads off to pick up a van when we touch down, and a while later pulls up outside in a nifty looking people carrier. We are told off by over zealous airport security for waiting for too long in the pick up area. We are told that cars waiting outside an airport were not acceptable "because of 9/11." Oh come on! We can barely co-ordinate carrying ten pieces of luggage between five of us, I doubt we'd be capable of a terrorist atrocity. As we head onto the Freeway, cruising towards Silverlake it feels great to be back in LA, even if it is a little grey today. Before heading out towards the desert, we pick up Mr Danny Black (our American friend and co-writer) to come with us on this adventure. He suggests we pick up a couple of "road soda's" (tall cans of beer) to ease the journey and this is duly noted.

The other boys have been out to the Joshua Tree county park before, where as this is my first time. It's a couple of hours out of LA, and quite at odds with the madness of Tinsletown. As we get nearer, there are Cacti as far as the eye can see, just miles and miles of desert. If anyone's seen Nightmare On Elm St 2, I’m fairly sure Freddy Krueger drives the school bus through the Joshua Tree area near the beginning. In the middle of this sprawling desert lies the quite amazing Pappy's & Harriet's - kind of like a Wild West saloon bar. It's Sunday night, but still a hive of activity as people travel from all around to come here, and this evening, local legends the Thrift Store All Stars also are playing. And to think we were in Texas when we woke up - half the way across America...good times! The gig tonight is a roaring success, and the locals make us feel very welcome. We opt for a more ramshackle set, and throw in a few covers (The Band, Dylan etc) for good measure. The party vibe is happening both on and offstage - various people jump up and add backing vocals, including friend of the band and re-knowned singer Victoria Williams. We close with a twenty minute version of "You Really Got Me" and then collapse with exhaustion. It's been quite a day...but further excitement awaits us when we see our accommodation. We found out about these amazing cabins in the middle of the desert, really nice and comfortable with all mod cons. Previous clients included The Doors and Led Zep. Would be a great setting to go a little crazy, but I’m done in. There is pure unadulterated silence for miles around, and I enjoy the best night’s sleep of my whole life.




19/3/2007 - San Diego Casbah

Hello world! Waking up in the middle of the Californian desert is a good start to any day. I wish that it could happen more often. Musicians are sometimes accused of wanton wearing of sunglasses, but out here it is nigh on impossible to go be outdoors without. The heat is like nothing I’ve experienced, and I can only bear a few minutes at a time before going back inside. Joe makes a dash to the most local shop there is (twenty minutes drive) and make bacon and eggs which sets us up nicely for the drive to San Diego. As we drive back through the desert we see evidence of a recent fire - tens of miles worth of burnt cacti, which was a sight to behold. Our soundtrack to this part of the road trip was our good friend (and producer) Pedro's new album which provides a truly fitting backdrop to the shrillness of it all. We edge back towards civilisation, and after being on the Freeway for a while I scream very loudly when I spot the artifacts from one of my all time favourite films - the giant dinosaur from Pee Wee Herman's Big Adventure. This is definitely one of my personal highlights of the whole tour.

As we approach San Diego, it appears as beautiful as I had expected it to be from the film "Almost Famous." We are staying with a friend of ours Lisa, who lives near the sea, and her neighbourhood seems so tranquil that I can't help but feel a little jealous I don't live here. Lisa is incredibly hospitable, and tolerant considering her house is now full of boys brandishing full bags of dirty laundry. The prospect of clean clothes is something of a thrill, and comes not a day too soon. We make our way over to the Casbah in the van, during which Danny Black gives me a guided tour of San Diego as he lived here for many years. He says that the flight path to the local airport goes right over the venue we're playing at. As we park up outside I cannot believe what my eyes are seeing. A plane goes by, seeming to be a matter of metres above our wee heads. Blooody hell! Still shaking slightly, I head inside where Electric Soft Parade are soundchecking. Speaking to Matt Priest and other Matt after, they seem to be having a jolly good time soaking up the West Coast flava. Tonight’s venue probably holds 200 people, so it's quite suprising to see posters on the wall advertising Razorlight's gig here. Having a little, ahem, "trouble in America" Mr Borrell? Surely the dressing rooms at Earls Court are bigger than this! Still, there's no shame in playing "more intimate" venues, and if there was the last ten years of my existence would be considered pretty damn shameful on the whole.

Dinner time! We shun a soundcheck, because after SXSW they seem like something of an un-necessary luxury. "Dangerous" Dave Brown of Better Looking Records takes us to one of Bill Murray’s favourite local bars for dinner. I'm impressed by it on the whole and wish I could remember what it was called. There was a good pool table, and when I asked a barman where the nearest payphone was he let me borrow his cell phone. I order a Chinese Chicken salad, with some chicken wings on the side - they were just 25 cents each! Heading back to the venue, I see more planes flying overhead, although the shock value had diminished some what. After two local bands (by which I mean from the state of California), Electric Soft Parade are on. Cor blimey, they played a blinder tonight! Some people in the audience had travelled hundreds of miles to see them, and they were just brilliant. The White brothers join us onstage for "Aperture" and we have a pretty good gig, although perhaps not one of our best. Its midnight on a Monday night, and I think there was an element of exhaustion from both band and crowd. Still, at worst it was a bit of an average gig - and playing an average gig in San Diego sure is more fun than playing an average gig in Hull.




20/3/2007 - Day Off (Travel to Los Angeles)


We enjoy a lazy start to the day at Lisa's house, watching the telly and eating breakfast. Garo informs me that I had one of my "episodes" in my sleep last night, where by I just start saying "what?" over and over again. He asked if I was OK, and I replied yes, before asking him if "everything was sorted"? I'm beginning to worry about the darkness that exists in my unconscious mind that is fueling these increasingly regular outbursts. Robin and Joe went over to the offices of a new company called V-Mix (think Myspace meets You Tube) to talk about Goldrush. When they arrive back we decide to head towards the City Of Angels, so that we don't get back too late. Joe wanted to avoid rush hour traffic (which is basically from 3pm onwards) and we were well on course...until our stomachs intervened. On voice in the back complains of hunger, then everyone else pipes up in agreement and before you know it we are leaving the highway in search of a diner in some coastal backwater. We find somewhere, and burgers are duly ordered and devoured. By the time we get somewhere near LA, we are of course stuck in ridiculous traffic. Still, such woe's are swiftly put aside when "Maggie Mae" comes on one of the classic oldies stations. You've got to love LA...

Everyone wants to chill out tonight and do something relaxing, and avoid loud music and bars where we have spent the best part of the last six weeks (as we were in Europe before hand). This seems like a perfectly sane thing to do. I notice however, that Bloc Party are playing in town tonight, and my friend works for them so I decide to keep it the party going. I head over to the Wiltern Theatre and check out the gig. I would like to say how much I respect Bloc Party for two reasons. Firstly, they have worked their asses off and really done well out in the States; tonight is the first of two sell out nights at this huge theatre, and the crowd go absolutely bonkers. Secondly, they are clearly men of taste; I go backstage after the gig to have a drink with my friend Pete and notice that they have imported Strongbow in the dressing room. Cider is like gold dust in the states, and as I sit talking to Pete and drinking a can, I feel that the night could not get much better. How wrong I was was! My good mate Alex who is a Welshman living in LA pulls up to the Theatre and summoning me to the passenger seat of his car proceeds to pour champagne down my throat. I even hear an advert on Indie 103.3 for our gig tomorrow coming from the car radio, surely a positive omen. We leave The Wiltern and head onto the aftershow at Cinespace on Hollywood Boulevard where I think I hear a song by The Horrors, and presume it to be a DJ. I look over to the other side of the room and discover that it's in fact the Horrors playing. Wahey, it's the Brit's abroad! It's all a lot of fun though, and great to catch up with old friends who I see very rarely. Hardly what you might call a "day off" though. Talk about a busman's holiday!