And so we moved on from Newcastle up to Scotland and back down to the Albert Hall. Glasgow was without doubt the best show of the UK tour, I could feel the love and the verve of the evening as I walked out on the stage it was so electrifying. Liverpool was really good too, […]
And so we moved on from Newcastle up to Scotland and back down to the Albert Hall. Glasgow was without doubt the best show of the UK tour, I could feel the love and the verve of the evening as I walked out on the stage it was so electrifying. Liverpool was really good too, and it was my 63rd birthday, it came and went like they do. Gary our tour manager played a nice trick on me, and I will never forget the love of the crew and band who provided me with a cake and a winter coat. No jelly though. Louise had to head home after her visit to the tour, sadness but it must be boring for her being on the road, it is sometimes. Fish and chips in Seahouses mopped up my woes before a beautiful drive up the North East coastal roads.
A night at Warwick Hall near Carlise, and a fireplace in my room led me to light it and roast in my bed to see in year 63. The flames licked each other and the room beamed into a smile, a midnight smile. I woke up alone and to a nice small breakfast before more driving on to the Liverpool show. London, and the last night. Home is the Albert Hall, it feels so small on that stage, and what a great night we all had, I was proud of our tour and the hard work we have all put into it. The crew are so wonderful from Alice and her daily bake offs to Peter and his mixing skills. Martin and Des out front and all the rest, Chris, Bam and Carly. All make up the whole. I had some great emails along the way and I will print them here in a few days time. People who wrote to me know how touching their words have been, they keep me going. Thank you. Im so happy to have been on this tour despite the deepness in the background and the shadows of internal challenges.
The tour shuts down, the trucks are packed for the last time and I drive home with Mrs D for two days on the sofa, packing and being in the home. Another tour passes so quickly yet along the road sometimes it never seems that way. I feel submerged in the flight, and my focus is blurred by the coming 9 hour trip to America, and another tour. Its what I have always done. So why do I feel so. Touring appears to be like a jumper I once wore and fitted into snuggly, but today its a stretch to get it over my head. I look tubby in the now, but its my jumper and nothing seems to change. We can keep this going as long as we want to and I hope we do within reason. We have, and the we is Glenn and myself, built up this brand that has now evolved into some kind of wonderful. A snug fitting womb of music and life itself. We are complicated people, we are within everything the best of hearts, and in the two days at home, I brisk over with these feelings.
In my room there is a window and I can see the past there behind me, there is a cloud and some sky, there is you and me. In my room I can feel the ever flowing tide of life, the ebb and the flow of deep happiness and love. 2,000 plus miles and many traffic jams along the way, radio and talk, take outs and ins. Back stage pillow talk and catering. Middle of the night creep ins to bed, and the odd day here and there trying to catch up on. Audiences from Ryll to brill and back again, faces watching, people trying to stand and dance, and some singing along too. The up and down tour, get up, sit down, and the love, the Squeeze love its like no other I feel at shows when is go to see other acts, or maybe I miss it. We are the neighbourhood cat, coming in and out of peoples lives every few years. New songs, just a nod to the inner, but we could cook eggs and be in a good place. Some nights I could taste the crowd slowly lift from the cold to the heat of our sets, some long some longer. How lucky.
So when I put an add in a shop window I had no idea I would then wink and turn 63, I would write more than, and I would still be as confused about myself as I was then. Its been some journey and like a Satsuma at Christmas, I’m wrapped up in the sweetness of life itself, and deliver the very same feelings each time I walk out and nod to the guitar on its stand. Driving home from the Albert Hall I looked into the rain and the mist of the A23 and with Mrs D by my side I knew I had delivered the best show I could, with all of the feelings and the friendship I could find within each moment of the tour. After all home was 15 miles away, and there is where it all starts again, in a few days time.