So after getting accustomed to the Spanish way of life by throwing as much alcohol down your throat before closing time (oh wait, that's the British way of life!) before being kicked out and then going to bed, we did just that. Next morning we were awake early (mostly through the heat) ready to get to the bar and set up and sound check.
The venue was a typical Spanish bar but the owner had erected a stage and canopy just outside for the gig.
The owner was a really nice chap from Essex. In fact they were all really nice and ALL from Essex (if not, certainly the around that area) staff and customers alike. The whole weekend we hardly saw a Spaniard anywhere, it was quite weird. It also puts a little in perspective when people moan about the hordes of immigrants in UK, spare a thought for all them Spaniards over the decades that have had to endure the smell of Pie, Mash, Fish and Chips, cries of "CAAAAMON YOOO 'AMMMERS!" on Saturday afternoon, being greeted in the street by, "awwwight geeza!?" Chaz And Dave records being played loudly and the endless ramblings about "Landan" but hardly ever going there. All this amongst other things must have really tested their resolve over the decades. Those poor people!
After a monster breakfast, we waited patiently for the pa company to arrive. When he did, he was in no rush to get any work done. This is typical of and more typical of a Brit in Spain; everything is done with a sense of "mañana" It must have been two hours before he opened the back of his Van! And considering this was his first job for the Bar, you'd think he would have applied a bit of urgency, but noooooo! He was a Brummy and given my experience with them this year, he was quickly showing the trait in them! Not that I like to tar with the same brush, but the coincidence is undeniably uncanny!
After a long time waiting about for ANYONE to do any work at all, we thought "bollocks to this" went back to the Villa and got us 'eds down - siesta style!
We got back there around 5ish and saw that they eventually got the pa up and put all the backline in place, sort of. The drum kit was pretty crummy but beggars aren't choosers. It was ok, certainly ok enough for the likes of me. It was however set up for a cunt to play; The toms were positioned flat and almost either side of the kick drum, the seat was so high I it looked like he'd been using it to pain the ceiling and it was filled up with so much cloth and fabric that it would have been a fire hazzard!
I started adjusting stuff which prompted the owner of the kit to pop his head up and come to the stage and 1. introduce himself and 2. make his feelings known about me making adjustments. He was subtle about it but fairly obvious. For fuck sake, what did he expect? I couldn't have played it the way it was if there was a gun to my head; the seat was so high I would have feared for my safety! One thing I thought I'd mention about this kit though, I've seen Cymbal stands used at Microphone stands; in fact by nature of their very design are far better than the typical microphone stand. But I have never before this day seen this:
- Yes, that's a microphone stand doctored to be used as a cymbal stand. It worked ok I will say, but it mars the idea of someone getting funny about his shit being messed with!
Meanwhile, another ruckus was kicking off off-stage. There were issues about the supposed backline and pa we were getting. In short, what they said we'd get we didn't get, not even close! The bass amp for Darren was a £100 practice amp and the guitar amp albeit better than the bass amp, was certainly not a Marshall or anything if it's quality. Thankfully, that mattered less because Phil had all his sounds pre-programmed on his effects unit he took with him.
Ian had issues too, they gave him two keyboards and but only one stand and didn't think to wonder how the other one was going to be positioned; perhaps they took it as red that Ian is in Fact one of the X-men and thus could just use his telekinesis to suspend the other keyboard into position. I mean, seems plausible doesn't it? Suffice as to say, this is NOT the case and so he had to improvise with a table leading him to have to twist his posture in a way that looked somewhat painful to be able to play both at the same time. Fair dos to him, anyone else would have seriously fucking kicked off but in true Ian's valley boy charm of "aye whateva butt'!" he proceeded with no complaints.
- keyboard 1 to the left, keyboard 2 to the right much lower down on a table, still with ickle bit of Ketchup on it from lunch.
The pa "engineer" then started getting a little lippy to Darren which was treading on thin ice to say the least. Darren is someone well high up on the "not to be fucked with" table. Think of the term used in the media as "East end hard-hard" men and you'd get an idea. He was cast to play Lenny McLean in a movie that sadly wasn't made. Darren has spoken about some of his "instances" of ass kicking, Method acting?!?! Fuck me!
- Lenny McLean "Where's me faaakin' guns eh?"
- The Krays "you go back and you tell Rutherman no-one fucks with us"
The Mitchells. Eastenders well 'ard men! 'Nuff said!
Anyway, we all tried to calm Darren down because he was seriously winding himself up to give the guy a tuning that he'd not forget in a hurry, nor would any siblings he may have in the future for that matter. Eventually, everything calmed down. We did our sound check and had another awesome meal from the bar! A shit load of steak worked well to calm tensions.
After a brief stop at the villa to change, it was back to the gig. They had a support band playing as we arrived that consisted of more expats. They were actually really good though the guitar player sucked. The drummer was using an electric kit.... er, thought I'd mention it.
Then it was our turn. Gary came out with all his Freddy gear on and boy did he have all Freddy's moves and banter off! Musically it could have been better but also could have been so much worse. There were no train wrecks and we all responded to each others' fuck ups really well leading to no-one spotting it was in fact our first gig and second time we were all in one place at the same time (musically speaking)
After the gig, feeling quite euphoric, we all went to the nearby tavern and proceeded to throw as much alcohol down our necks before closing time... just like the Spanish do... Oh wait, I've done this one haven't I?
-- Post From My iPhone
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