Petersfield
Mar 29 '09
Across country in the A8 to the lovely small and well turned out Petersfield, where oddly Emma’s Dad has an Indian restaurant. And guess what we had for our tea! Lovely. Ella came with her dog Dave, who loves to lick people, he was cute and I loved being licked. The show was fun and I hit the delirious button mid way through the set forgetting words and telling silly jokes and laughing with our Dorie. John played really well tonight, I'm so lucky to have such nice people on the tour, and Emily is fantastic too. David Bailey, Squeeze wizard of Oz came all the way from Devon to see the show it was so great of him, what a nice chap. Em had some great feedback about the show, we drove home and that was that. Another day over, another curry under the belt.
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Kilburn London
Mar 29 '09
A full day of in the car, a master class in songwriting and a look around the shops at Brent Cross, what fun. The master class was lovely, I was tired but the people were so nice it kept me on my feet. I met my agent for the first time, Harry who looks like Tin Tin, seems like a nice fella. Face in a blackberry. The gig in Kilburn was lovingly attended by Ian our promoter who is so thoughtful and the best of the tour thus far. The show was ok without being amazing, not sure why. I stayed at Home House as a treat. I was beyond tired I was almost in a comer. Or is that a full stop.
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Southend and JR
Mar 29 '09
Steve who runs the venue is ever so nice to us, we turned up late for the sound check but it all went according to plan. The show itself was ok without being top of the pops, I think they had seen it all before. We played well enough and as usual I made it home by about 1 am in time for my wind down hour, mint tea, some emails and some internet. Good CD sales tonight, I think the best on the tour so far. During the day various meetings in London and Radio two with Jonathan Ross. A great time was had by all, he called Dorie the vocal parachute, you must listen to it on the listen again, 22 minutes if prime radio, thank you Andy and the BBC. Garden centres here we come!
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St Albans
Mar 29 '09
A pub on a corner by a railway station. A curry house on the adjacent corner. The worst dressing room of the tour award. A great show though with some nice people and someone who had a wonderful laugh, it was very uplifting. I enjoyed the show and the penis drawings on the dressing room wall, which I am now collecting. Works of art indeed. In 1975 Squeeze played with Curved Air here in St Albans, it was a very long time ago when a below 30 waist was the norm.
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Birmingham
Mar 24 '09
Up and out the door, breakfast with Emma and then on to the Providence centre in Bournemouth for a quick set of songs and some sharing with fellow addicts. Then on to Birmingham for a gig in a garden centre, a small café with a lovely felling about it, we eat curry for a change, and sit in the dressing room, its sold out and the atmosphere is pretty good. A day off looms and I'm excited, but for now its time to rock the garden centre, the last time I played a garden it was owned by Mr Madison. And what a great night we had, so much fun such nice people I felt really loved and happy. JB played well, he seems to be more settled, and Dorie is wonderful. A good team. Back home by 2am. No change there then. I have turned into an owl here at my desk, writing into the early hours, tired but now more settled myself with the set and the tour. What a fist week that has been, a full on heads down no nonsense marathon up and down the M40 and the M25. Sleep buster. Now i want a tour of garden centres, let me know if you can help me plan it!
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Worchester
Mar 24 '09
Meanwhile back in the reality of it all, I just managed to get myself together for this one and almost stayed in bed. I met Melvin by chance for breakfast and it was so good to see him, in fact without seeing him I may have gone back to bed. Three hours later and some good radio news, Liverpool won at home. The Marrs Bar is a sticky floor kind of hole in the wall where a sign reads no dancing while holding beer glasses. Another curry and we are back in the flow of it all, the dressing room is so repulsive we all debark to the balcony. A cat has lived home alone for about a week and the smell of piss is disgusting. Dorie has tooth ache. Ella writes on her hand, JB sleeps in the darkness. A nice small crowd who listened and seemed to enjoy the show, the curry sits on the back of my throat during the set but I soldier on. At the end a woman came up to me with four scones with fresh cream and homemade jam. I didn’t know what to make of the offering. I think they are still there on the top of the PA. I'm home now its about 2am. My arms are strong like Popeye but only from holding the steering wheel, not from lifting weights. The sky is blue.
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Bungay
Mar 24 '09
An odd sounding place for a gig but how chalk and cheese can you have two days be, tonight’s show was lovely, really nice people great back stage, full house, they were all ears. Especially a young kid in the front row who amused us with his tales of how his Dad used to have brown hair. You had to be there. The drive there and back was made exciting by hearing that Man U had lost to Fulham. Dories Dad played on Take me, I first saw him play in Van Der Graff Generator back in 1972, way before Dorie was born, the days of afternoon shows at the Lyceum in London. Afternoons hopping off school to see Genesis and Steam Hammer. I went to bed completely shattered but I think in a good way. Its about now that we all need a day off, Dorie is on the verge of losing her voice. A thrill of a day.
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Stourbridge
Mar 20 '09
A lovely spring day, could this be our summer. A drive from York to Stourbridge down the very slow M1 and across the country to this part of the world that I never seem to stop in, but pass by. The pub is tucked away at the bottom of a hill, the club is below the pub in a cold cellar, the room is long and small like a railway carriage, and on stage we are all squashed in against the walls to make sure everyone can see the screen. Its cold in here and we are not on stage for hours, it’s the long wait. The long wait is the story of my life, its either being in dressing rooms or in the car, I wait and then I sleep, then I wait again. I sit around and be the waiter, months of my life have been spent waiting. Another curry and more waiting this time in the bare dressing room, like most others we have been in it seems that owners of clubs don’t really care about the travelling musician. You get a kettle if you are lucky a jar of coffee and some tea bags, a cold white light and some seats that have been just thrown together. Joy. Elton has his own dressing room wherever he goes in the world, I would like to aspire to this but I'm afraid I cant get it all in the boot of my car. Ella writes a set on her hand, Dorie and Emily are on stage playing. John is on the texting in his overcoat. Nice show, good people and a good set it seems that all the hard work for sorting out the edits on the videos is paying off. Someone came up to me and thanked me for putting so much effort in to the show. Drove home a reminisced with JB about our early lives in music, our first festivals and our first bands, music to my ears.
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York
Mar 19 '09
What a lovely city, so grand to walk around, JB and I had lunch and walked between the castle walls and high streets, the cobbled lanes and walk ways, we were looking for velvet, for the stage, and some knickers for his wife. No joy. The show was in a basement club, dark and airless, there were pews in front of the stage and by the time we went on we had a small congregation to play to. I played like a tosser as my mind was elsewhere, on the films I think. We still need to rehearse some more, not sure but I feel there is something missing from the set. Back at the hotel another small bed and next door a loud TV, so I complain, make tea and go to bed while the world winds down around me. No driving tonight.
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Leicester
Mar 19 '09
Up at eight, pick up dry cleaning and drop off suit for alterations. Nip over to the bank, drive over to guitar shop to pick up some money for sold guitar. Back home to do three interviews on the phone. In the car with JB, up to London for another this time live on air interview with Robert Elms. Meet chap to swap over the hire projector in high street car park. Drive to Leicester. Arrive in time to set up and eat curry at the side of the stage. Great show tonight, people seemed happy with the films and the show, really great applause. Settle up with promoter. Confused. Drive to York arrive one thirty in the morning, people falling about coming home from clubs, in bed by 2, single bed over high street, its cold and the covers are not very warm. I float rather than sleep.
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Cannock
Mar 19 '09
The club was set at the end of a long road full of what seemed to be council houses, this once fine social club was now a home for local covers bands. Think Floyd, U2 me, Twin Lizzy, that sort of thing. Run by chain smoking chap with big belly and braces over a Jucy Lucy t shirt. Our set ran well enough until I knocked the size of the dressing room, a cupboard at best. The tubby one finished us all off with a very loud Labelled with Love through the PA. We leapt in the car and drove home. Tonight another curry.
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Hurst House
Mar 19 '09
We played a set that was dogged by people looking at us like we were on display, the table in front of the stage were collectively about 300 years old. The hotel is wonderful and we were well looked after, we had a lovely time just being, what more can you ask. It was good to play to Keri and Gregor who run the hotel, they liked the show and for me that was good enough. Nice food, nice people, nice bed. And a surprise guest, Harry who first gave Squeeze its live badges by letting us play at his Dad’s pub in Greenwich in 1975/6, three nights a week for hours on end.
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Cardiff
Mar 19 '09
The club was half empty, or half full as you might like to see it, but the people who were there seemed to enjoy the films and the banter between songs. After two days rehearsing in Brighton it was time to get on with the show. Ella Edmondson opened up for us and I met her Dad who came along to support her, and carry her guitars. He enjoyed the show and had some great comments to make. Dorie was lovely and JB played lovely too. We had a nice curry before the gig and all in all it went well for a first night. I was busy watching the screen to see if we were in time with the films so my nerves were a little shot by the end of the evening. Afterwards we drove, radio three on loud, on to Hurst House for some fine bacon sandwiches and a night cap before bed. And what a bed, the size of two large swimming pools.
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White Rock
Mar 07 '09
I interrupted my busy week in Wales to be an educator in a battle of the bands in Hastings, I imaged it would be a sort of X factor kind of a night. The White Rock theatre in Hastings is one of those old dusty venues that they should never pull down, it’s a treasure. Everyone has played there, even Squeeze. The stalls were half empty with mums and dads teachers and kids from local schools, it looked and felt tired. However the bands were really good, young and nervous looking at their feet as I used to when I was there age. Little drummers with spiky hair, bass players build like hod carriers. Guitar players with long washed hair. Guitar players with no idea of tuning but every idea about pose. Girls playing guitars and drums, who won top prize, and me. Me and the fellow judges. One of them liked drummers, the beats got her going, the other explained she knew nothing about music at all. I enjoyed myself and I thought he music on the whole was pretty good, I wish I had that chance at their age to perform on a stage with full PA and lights. It would have sounded like tonight I'm sure. I would have been the one with the frown and the tight jeans, pants showing, hair cut terrific and washed, strumming like I'm ironing on my mums iron. The girls won, they were the only ones with a great orginal song, good vocals and nice smiles. One of the bands screamed down the mic and played really loudly music that would be best used as interrogation in a far off military camp. Music to their ears but not mine, let alone my fellow judges who seemed to die for three minutes then come back to life to mark them with stickers. Merit, first and second. I signed a few autographs and fell into the car, Em and I went for diner and I slept like a log in an x factor fire of talents.
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Home House
Mar 06 '09
Home House
Playing in a large living room at Home House is like playing in a large living room, the furniture very comfortable and expensive, this being the new wing of the club. Our first show together with this line up was for some reason quite nerve racking, and I'm usually very calm before a show of this kind. The room was full of lovely people, the sound was amazing and we were pretty good too. John Bentley brings so much to the line up, he brings a piece of Squeeze with him, his voice and his good nature is so warming. We played for about an hour and I must say it was one of the best nights I have had in a long while. Phillipa who put the show together did such a great job of looking after us, we eat and drank well. The good thing about the new line up is the harmony’s I think we did really well for a first night. We ducked playing any new songs, we shall keep them for the tour coming up soon. Home House is a club frequented by some fine people, mostly media but some who are seen by most as local Dandies, flamboyant dressers and dreamers who creep around the house like mist. The house has some wonderful history. Once a home of an art collector and then an art school, now a private club. I have been a member now for six years and it’s a good place to come and relax while visiting London from Brighton. A nice night, some money raised for charity and a room with a shower the size of my house. Tonight we were supported by the wonderful Chris Sheehan who gets better with age, so ripe and confident, so lovely.
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In and out of Wandsworth with the numbers on their names
Mar 03 '09
Walking into prison is easier than it seems, at Wandsworth we checked in like you would any high security building, showing a driving licence as id. Once inside we were escorted across a small road and through some gates into a paved area. From here I could see all around me the Victorian monster that is Wandsworth, with its barred windows and bleak looking walls and fences. If you remember porridge you will know what I mean. Once inside the RAPT wing Dorie and I sat at one end of the long drill room while prisoners slowly shuffled in from their cells which looked small and tired. Pictures on the walls and some books, some nick knacks, their home. Drum and bass on a small stereo alerted me to the fact that my acoustic overtures might not be to everyone’s taste. One by one they sat with us in a large circle, I opened my guitar case, which had not been checked at the front gate, and I tuned up. They sat quietly. We played for about an hour and when I got to Cool for Cats they sang along with the line in and out of Wandsworth…it made me laugh and I repeated the verse at the end of the set. RAPT is a charity that helps prisoners with the drug problems, they work hard to keep clean inside and I admire their will to walk the talk, although they cant walk that far. Some of them became addicts from being inside prison. Maybe it passes the time to be out of your head, it would for me. My musical chair was a success and thanks to Catty for organising the afternoon. Leaving the heat of the basement and walking into the fresh air was a stunning feeling, like a bird being released, leaving behind me the people who have only cells to share and no fresh air to speak of. Some of the faces of the inmates we met were scared and momentarily scary, but mostly they were warm and friendly. Being stir crazy on a plane for 8 hours is as close as I get to feeling locked up, but some of the lifers here will never know the freedom that I can take for granted so much of the time. My freedom is my unclipped wings in a world caged by only my own desire to explore the possibilities around me. I went shopping that afternoon and stole something from a shop, I have no idea why, later that night I felt guilty and stupid.
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