K I L LY O U RO WNPRESENTS E H T Y R A I RD U O T
S E P T E MB E R2 0 1 2
So, yeah. An MC iPod tour diary. I should probably provide some background and context before delving straight into this. My name's Ian, I'm 28, originally from Cambridge and spent many years living in Norwich (and a few months living near Southampton). I used to put on a ton of gigs in Norwich, mostly of the mid-level punk/ska kind (Random Hand, Sonic Boom Six, Streetlight Manifesto, Big D to name a few). I've been in a few bands, namely: • •
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The Amigas; an acoustic two-piece Ataris tribute band. Dutch Boy; a four-or-five piece (depending on which line-up) punk rock band with a penchant for changing members and splitting up/re-forming. In all honesty we were pretty appalling, especially when I went through my phase of adding “OI” to every song and pretending we were a streetpunk band. We Skullfucked Pikachu; a novelty hardcore band where we constantly changed members – sometimes during a gig – and made it up as we went along. We had our first ever practice before our fourth and final gig. It was shocking. Gravedale High; a five-piece horror-punk band who are still going and are much better without me. Probably the most successful of these bands, with some good support slots and a festival appearance under our belts before I quit. No hard feelings or anything, in fact we're still such tight friends that I'm about to release their début album.
And this doesn't even take into account all the “bands” that I “formed” that never went anywhere; including – but not limited to – This Equals (the pop punk band), Derision Override (the metal band), Judan (the goth band), Hobsy (the band who changed genre with literally every song) and countless others I've forgotten. Anyway, point being I've been in a lot of bands that have ended badly. This eventually lead me to give up and go solo. Unfortunately for me I don't actually have any musical talent or the ability to play any instruments; but I am a computer nerd, so MC iPod was born. My “rap” project which consists of me and my friends programming some beats and me attempting to rap over the top of them. This was back in 2005. It's now 2012 and I'm still doing this. I did actually quit once, in 2008, and made a big deal about it and promoted an MC iPod “last ever gig” which went really well and was loads of fun. Nearly a year later though I ended up MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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recruiting my mate Luke on drums and trying again. It didn't work out with Luke but I was kind of back. For the most part, MC iPod has consisted of bedroom-recorded albums and oneoff gigs, with the exception of a three-day mini tour I did at the start of 2009 where I jumped in Kieran Kelly's car and blagged onto three James Hull/Tim Vantol gigs. Fast forward to 2012 and my mate Rob has decided he wants to use his holiday from work to drive someone on tour and – given that MC iPod is just one man and one iPod – he'll drive me. Several years ago I was moderately famous in the small Norfolk coast town of Sheringham. I had some friends I'd made in Norwich who were young'uns from Sheringham and they used to play MC iPod CDs at school, so some younger kids got into me. As such, I got asked to play a gig at Sheringham High School once and was asked to host the yearly carnival a few times, too. When I realised this tour was actually going to happen, the first person I contacted was a dude I knew from Sheringham called Adam who had started running gigs. He managed to sort out a gig at the local social club (Tuesday), which I was really excited about as I genuinely figured at least a few people would turn up and I could party like it was 2006. My mate Dan – probably best known as Ducking Punches – offered me a gig in Norwich supporting the excellent Jeff Rowe (Wednesday). I begged Jay from Young Attenborough to sort me out a Southampton house show and he did (Friday). I only needed to bag two more gigs. My good friend DS had an acoustic gig in Cambridge on the Thursday which me and Rob wanted to go to, but couldn't as we'd be on tour. DS then offered me a slot on it. Done. A few mates were going to try and sort me a show for the Saturday but they all fell through. I figured I'd try my luck and email Dave at Nambucca and beg to get on the Random Hand gig he had. He actually said yes. Me and my good buddy Asher (aka Chapter Eleven) would be playing in the bar between bands. Ace. Meanwhile, my extremely talented friend Laura had been roped in to play guitar/ukulele/melodica alongside me and my iPod. Also meanwhile, Emma Hallows and Sophie Porter had ended up being on three gigs with us, so – without asking Rob first – I volunteered the spare seats in the car to them. So Rob's plan to drive just me and an iPod turned into me, three other people, guitars and too much luggage; not helped by my stupidly large merch box.
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I honestly thought they'd be a few people in Sheringham who would remember me from the old days, so made sure I had a nice range of merch – tote bags, CDs, tapes, posters and keyrings – and, as such, needed a big ol' plastic tub to store it all. As such, Rob had to begrudgingly remove his massive sub-woofer from the boot of his car. Everything had come together, and the final tour dates looked like this: • • • • •
Tuesday 11th September, Social Club, Sheringham Wednesday 12th September, Karma Kafe, Norwich Thursday 13th September, Portland Arms, Cambridge Friday 14th September, No 3 (Jay's House), Southampton Saturday 15th September, Nambucca, London
Being a Frank Turner fan, Nambucca had something of a special meaning to me due to the “tonight I'm playing another Nambucca show” lyric in The Ballad of Me and My Friends. Right before the tour, the Sheringham Social Club closed down but Adam and another good friend Mike (aka Big Mike aka British wrestler Bulk of the UK Pitbulls) managed to move it to the function room of a pub called the Dunstable Arms. I found myself being stupidly busy right before I was about to leave. On Saturday 8th me, Rob and DS were running an all-dayer in Cambridge which ended up not finishing until around 12:40 in the morning. A few hours later me and Claire (my lovely girlfriend who – due to various life factors – is currently living in Surrey whilst I'm stuck in Cambridge and was visiting Cambridge for the all-dayer) had to drive to Surrey for her cousin's 21 st birthday in some posh country club with a bunch of people dressed like the Banks family from the Fresh Prince. I left Claire's on Monday evening and hastily made sure my tour supplies – including tour passes I'd made to test out my new laminator – were packed ready for the next day.
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Day One: Cambridge → Norwich → Sheringham → Norwich I woke up in my own bed, made sure I had everything, and Rob drove over to pick me up around 1. I made him arrive a few minutes later than planned as I'd forgotten I'd promised Big Mike I'd play my cover of People Who Died and hadn't prepared a backing track for it. I'd decided I was going to film a tour diary, so stood outside my house and filmed Rob's car pulling up. This would be just about all the footage I'd bother shooting and the idea quickly fell apart. Rob had decided on a car rule that all iPods had to be on shuffle, and they'd be no actual choosing of music. This resulted in lots of metal from old Metal Hammer cover discs and sampler compilations that Rob had acquired off a friend years ago. We stopped off at a new discount store in Cambridge called B&M to stock up on knock-off Berocca and energy drinks with funny names – such as Power Horse and Black Sun. We drove to Norwich to stop at Laura's so me and her could have our first practice. A few hours before the gig. It'd be fine. I was headlining tonight and was on stage at 9pm, which meant that either the curfew was early, or Adam wanted a two-hour set. Me and Laura had a run through of the set twice, with her adding whichever instrument seemed appropriate over the top. I was happy with how everything was sounding, so we headed off to the venue. Laura fell asleep in the car, although she'd later deny this. Rob wanted a chippy tea and to see the sea. We accomplished both of these, so – so far – the tour was off to a good start. We also got paid straight away. Tonight was free entry, and Adam was paying us petrol money out of his pocket. Good ol' boy. So yeah, the gig hasn't even started and we've been paid and been to the chip shop. Other than getting lost en route to food, today was a good day. So far. In the run up to the tour, the catchphrase “shit got weird” had come up a lot, due to the fact that my Southampton friends use it a lot and I'd been promising Rob and Laura that – on Friday at Jay's house – shit would get weird. Tonight my friends, shit got weird. Adam and his friend Pat opened up as Homeless Finger Encounter playing acoustic-with-percussion tracks. It was all a bit weird. By this point, pretty much no-one was in the venue. And I mean no-one. There was a few of Pat's family, a couple who I think were related or close friends to someone else playing, Big Mike MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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and his lovely wife Sheena, and us. My buddy Tom from Cambridge turned up later as he liked the thought of seeing me play in his childhood holiday resort of Sheringham. This was pretty much it for the night. Jim Higgs played next and his friends turned up but managed to miss his set, so left again. Paul E. Fawcett was main support and turned up with his girlfriend right before his set, and left about a song into mine. I'd decided I'd do about an hour long set which is far longer than the 20ish minutes I'd normally do. I got changed into my lucha mask I'd brought along, stuck on a vest, and was in character and ready to be MC iPod. Except I was playing to no-one. I'm not going to lie, my ego took a battering at this gig. I had actually expected a few people would turn up. Not loads, but I genuinely thought we could pull 10-20. Oh well. I got on with it and treated tonight as a warm up for the rest of the – hopefully better attended – dates. So, yeah... shit getting weird. At some point I'd mentioned hookers which lead Adam to try and phone a hooker over the PA. Apparently he had a series of numbers stored in his phone for prostitutes and I think it was the third attempt that finally connected. He was pretty rude to whoever answered the phone and, at one point, declaring that there was “six guys who need their weiners sucked”. The poor lady was getting very angry but wasn't helping herself by not just hanging up; especially when she answered Adam's question of “what are you wearing” with an angry “NOTHING”. I carried on with my set – which included totally fumbling through a very under-rehearsed solo attempt at People Who Died – and ended up trying to cover Avril Lavigne's Girlfriend with Adam and Laura both on guitar, Big Mike playing a djembe and me on vocals. Even though Adam suggested it he didn't seem to know how to play it properly. Even though I agreed to it, I didn't actually know most of the words. It was a fucking disaster. I managed to redeem things when I got talked into doing the theme from the Fresh Prince for a second time and doing a cover of Call Me Maybe with Jim Higgs on guitar and vocals and me doing some backing vocals. At some point there was a three-way dance off between Jim, Adam and myself. I gave myself carpet burn and declared myself the winner. The only merch I managed to shift was a few things to Adam. Leaving me with – amongst other things – 19 tote bags with my “stupid face” on them. I'd dug up an old crude sketch a mate had done of me on the back of some till roll and decided it'd make an awesome tote bag. Before I'd really had a chance to think it through MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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I'd already had a chat with Dave from Pure Graft about him doing them for me and sent him the art. I quickly realised that this wasn't the best idea I've ever had, compounded by Dave delivering them to me at a Graft show in Cambridge and saying they had my “stupid face” on. He was right. My stupid face is the cover of this tour diary. Yes, I honestly thought I could sell 20 tote bags with that on. My overestimating how much merch I could shift would become a recurring theme for the week and – at nearly every gig – I'd mark the price of something down. As I write this, I think I have 17 unsold tote bags sitting next to me plus a ton of CDs and tapes. Anyone want to buy anything? Give me a shout. After the gig we packed our shit up and left, heading back to Laura's to crash there for two nights. We actually had beds as most of Laura's house-mates hadn't resurfaced for the autumn semester yet. That would become another recurring theme, me feeling incredibly old compared to everyone else. I can't remember when it started, but “that's what she said” became one of those phrases that I felt the need to repeatedly over-use. Also, I sarcastically described me and Laura as a “well oiled machine” which I would go on to do at every gig. Estimated daily miles driven: 118.0
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Day Two: Norwich I'd stayed in Laura's house-mate Harry's room as he wasn't in, and I'd crashed here a few times. His room is unbelievably messy. The first time I ever stayed in it I found ÂŁ1.27 in change, one shoe, a letter from Student Finance, a shirt, blood stains, and probably other things in his bed. This time it wasn't as bad, but the blinds were broken so I was woken up when the sun rose. Which is far too early, especially given that I hadn't got to sleep until late. I'd been bigging up Frank's Bar to Rob and decided we had to get breakfast from there as a treat. Laura bailed due to being a) vegetarian and b) broke. Once me and Rob made it there I realised that the breakfast menu I was thinking of was specifically a Sunday thing, plus we were a few minutes late for the normal breakfast menu. Fail. We ended up getting food off the brunch menu which was ace, albeit salty. We both ended up with the same dish, which was grilled chorizo, fried eggs and spinach on a grilled ciabatta. I declared it looked like “half a severed penis on a smashed up scrotumâ€?. Rob took a photo:
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We wasted some time in Norwich and I bought a roll of cloth tape because I was on tour and figured tape is an essential tour item. We popped to Soundclash Records were I spent money I don't have on a DVD of the Last Shop Standing documentary and a dirt cheap Dusty Rhodes and the River Band CD. After wasting more time at Laura's, we ate and drove to the town as it was raining. This would be the first of our three dates with Emma 'allows (because she's got a Northern accent) and Sophie Porter. We were all supporting the wonderful Jeff Rowe. This gig was one of Dan Allen's Out of Step nights but – as he was on tour – the actual running of the gig was left to Sophie. Sophie was in a massive grump. On Monday she'd spent eight hours on a Megabus from Norwich to Manchester, and Tuesday was spent on another bus down to London. Sophie and Emma managed to miss their bus on Wednesday and had to spend more money hastily booking a new bus to Norwich. Which, understandably, put her in a shitty mood. Add in the fact that she had to run tonight's gig, and she was in a foul mood. Luckily I knew Sophie before this – I put out her début EP – so this wasn't my first impression of her. I'd never met Emma before and, other than some Facebook messages leading up to the tour, had never even spoken to her. I was paranoid she'd turn out to be some raging PUNX who took offence to everything. Like what's-her-name from Rvivr. Luckily she's a Northern girl who is incredibly blunt about everything and took my stupidity on the chin. Good times. Sophie decided to try and finish everything up by half 10 as she had a feeling that people would leave early. Whilst waiting around I drew some crude sketches and attempted to blag some money.
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The gig had a total of seven paying punters. Seven. I wasn't expecting it to be busy, but I was at least expecting a few more than this. Given how quiet it was Sophie and Emma both decided to play unplugged. I had to plug in, though, because of the iPod and felt like a bit of a diva being the only act who used the PA. Even Jeff Rowe played totally unplugged. I love playing Norwich. I spent years living here and it really does feel like home to
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me. A week before the tour, I played a last minute gig here where my set solely consisted of cover versions. My newest cover – Changes by 2Pac – went down an absolute treat, so I was very much looking forward to playing that again; alongside something I'd worked on especially for the tour, The Bad Touch by the Bloodhound Gang. Both went well, in that I'm-a-goofy-white-boy-and-I-encourage-you-tolaugh-at-me kind of way. Having Laura playing actual, physical instruments over the top makes me feel like a real musical act. That said, I was still disappointed by the turn out and my heart wasn't as much into it as it should have been. I did manage to sell a couple of bits and pieces though, so it wasn't a total loss. We didn't get paid though. Sophie took Emma and Jeff back to hers whilst me and Rob drove back to Laura's. Estimated daily miles driven: 5.0
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Day Three: Norwich → Cambridge We'd planned to get to Cambridge fairly early so me and Rob could go back to our respective houses and ignore each other for a while. Okay, so it hadn't quite got that bad but everyone could have probably used some time alone. Laura took a while getting up and getting ready, and then we had to go and pick up Sophie and Emma, so we probably didn't get out of Norwich until the early afternoon. Rob informed me that Berocca (or the fake shit we had) will turn your piss neon yellow. I hadn't realised before, but this nugget of information did stop me freaking out later when I noticed this fact for the first time. Anyway... when we got into the car everyone quickly settled into what would become their places. Me and Rob at the front, with the girls at the back. Louise Distras' name came up. A lot. She became the go-to conversation for the remainder of the tour mostly due to her penchant for getting her name attached to things that don't necessarily concern her and her perceived hypocrisy. Sophie would come out with some rather batshit-crazy things in the car. Such as just blurting out “would you rather...” and then presenting us with two options. Here are some actual examples: •
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Hands instead of lips that have minds of their own, so keep clicking their fingers when you're in places where you should be quiet – like a library – and can also hold each other stopping you being able to open your mouth. OR Fried eggs instead of ears but if the yolk breaks you'll be in constant pain, although you'll still be able to hear.
And this – rather mundane in comparison – example: • •
Boobs for hands. OR Hands for boobs.
We got into Cambridge in the afternoon where we went our separate ways. I went back to my parents' house where I drank coffee, ate, showered (for the first time on the tour) and did some essentials, like send e-mails, etc and remember that I MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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run a record label which requires a lot of work. We reconvened en route to the Portland Arms. The back room of the Portland – where the gigs usually are – is being renovated and enlarged. DS – being friends with the pub – managed to put on this gig in the actual front bar of the pub. There was a small PA set up in the corner with regular sound-man Jazz behind the desk. As he'd squeezed Emma and Sophie onto an already-bursting bill, Sophie was on around 7.20 and played to pretty much no-one. Emma's crowd wasn't much bigger either. By this point, everyone seemed pretty fed up. Darren Michelangelo Smith was on next and all three girls managed to quickly develop intense hatred for him for a multitude of reasons including – but not limited to – the following: • • • • •
His face Singing a song with the lyrics “boys with guitars will never fade away” in a bill featuring several female artists His hair Singing about girls in Rome not comparing to “the girls back home” when he's from Haverhill His fake accent
Allegra Shock followed and was ace so was very much a step in the right direction. Since the gig, though, Emma is now very pissed at Allegra for taking Emma's email address – supposedly to sort of music-related things – and adding it to her mailing list instead. Leading up to the gig – which was very much an acoustic affair – me and Laura had decided we'd do a purely acoustic set and we'd keep it short. Five songs with no iPod and an alarming lack of practising. I had done an acoustic set before – several years ago with Rory from Gravedale High on guitar – and it wasn't exactly amazing. Yet, I tried again. Again, it wasn't exactly amazing. The wholly acoustic cover of Changes was either spectacular or tragic. I'm not quite sure. Jason Welt and Sam Russo ended the night and were really good but I think we were all tired and grumpy by this point. In terms of numbers, the room was packed. Surprisingly so. That said, Sophie and Emma played to no-one, and my set was a slight disaster, so it didn't really mean anything that there were people there; except that DS is a champion and paid us far more than I expected. None of us sold anything, although Emma did have someone take a free-or-donation CD (but didn't pay). It was quite comedic watching him as he'd picked it up and was pretending to look it over whilst slowly MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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backing away from the table to avoid having to give a donation. There was a very drunk woman drawing attention to herself, especially through Sam's set, and this was probably the first non-Norfolk example of shit getting weird. Shit would stay weird for the rest of the tour. Plus, Rob got fucking wasted. At one point the woman was precariously balanced on a seat, resulting in me decided to tweet “No-one has died on this tour. Yet�. We walked back and Rob, being so drunk, wasn't paying attention and was actually following the girls back to his own house. Naturally they didn't know the way and it took ages to get back; much to the chagrin of a hungry Sophie and a cold Emma. Everyone's misery cheered me up, though, because I'm a dick. I went back to mine and slept. I was going to write about how I should have taken advantage of my own bed to have a mid-tour wank (but didn't), but that'd be delving too much into Bangers tour diary territory. Estimated daily miles driven: 61.1
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Day Four: Cambridge → Southampton The problem with waking up in your own bed is mustering the motivation to actually get out of it. I'm not going to lie, getting up to sit in a cramped car for several hours wasn't a fun prospect and my mood sunk. Still, I tried to perk up as tonight had been the night I'd been looking forward to the most, and the night I promised that shit would get weird. We probably got to Jay's at around five, before they were expecting us. We found somewhere to park and unloaded our gear. Well, their gear and my merch. My stupid face on stupid tote bags. We met Jay's house-mates and popped down the shops to get some food as they were going to cook for us. This would be our first meal on tour! Well, the first meal provided for us anyway. Having bought some bits and pieces from Sainsbury's we crossed the road to legendary Southampton off-license Champagne Charlie's where I talked Laura into buying a can of Crunk Juice. Crunk Juice is a massive can of malt liquor loaded with caffeine. It's about the equivalent of a whole bottle of wine with two cans of Red Bull thrown in. Everyone who drinks it 'gets weird'. This is basically a fact. I've heard a slew of stories from Southampton of people drinking Crunk and, well, just getting weird. It's also no longer legally available in this country (apparently) and Charlie won't be able to get any more after this load runs out. Everyone else bought more sensible drinks. Oh, yeah, this is probably a good time to mention that I don't drink. I used to, but haven't been drunk in nine years. Since then I've had the very rare occasional drink, but always been sensible and stopped on one or two; before it had any effect. Anyway... we got back to Jay's and were cooked a lovely chilli and explained why Louise Distras' name kept coming up in conversation, including watching her unintentionally hilarious “We Are All Pussy Riot” video. I complained about my mountain of un-sold merch, whinged about my stupid face, and lamented the lack of sales of my label's releases; which opened me up to being mocked relentlessly. I deserved this. People started arriving and we eventually got under way with Robin Black from Kids Can't Fly playing a short but sweet set. I'd previously – and frequently – said some rather disparaging things about KCF in my zine and decided to apologise to Robin. I think we're all good now. Alfie J Crook – the artist formerly known as Fun Alf – tried to play a set of Paul Baribeau covers. In actuality he MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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played four songs in an hour alongside lots of drunk-talk about how he didn't know the songs. This would be a main factor in my set not starting until gone midnight. Sophie and Emma played their sets and a very drunk Laura – who, despite her consumption of a Crunk Juice and several other drinks, managed to avoid 'getting weird' – did a short two-song set of one of her own songs and a cover of ONSIND's Heterosexuality is a Construct. At some point in the evening me and Laura happened upon a phone book so – being the mature grown ups that we are – decided to look for funny names. There wasn't an “A. Gorilla” but we did find both “A. Hooker” and “D.A. Hooker”. Y'know, Da Hooker. We seriously considered calling Da Hooker but maturity prevailed in the end and we put the phone book back.
In the words of Laura: “I'd forgotten about this and the fact that a 28 year old man was literally crying with laughter over names in the phone book.” MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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Before my set I managed to enter some sort of epic caffeine/adrenaline buzz and was literally jumping around, and offered to race – with me on foot – Olly on his bike. I peaked a bit too early and by the time I actually played my buzz had dropped somewhat. Not enough to really matter though. I don't want to sound arrogant, but I was fucking ace tonight. Everyone was really into it – especially the covers – and I had loads of fun despite Alf deciding he was my hype man for a huge chunk of my set; which involved him shouting “YEAH”, “WHOOOO” – in his best Ric Flair voice – and “SHIT”. Me and Jay got into a rap battle that felt like it lasted about 20 minutes, although Rob thinks it was closer to three. I'd challenged Kerry who lives here to a dance off. After she did a roly-poly on the floor I quickly started the next track without my rebuttal. I guess she won. This was, far and away, my favourite night so far of the tour. My expectations had been met and then some. Emma and Sophie seemed a lot happier than they had done before and everyone was just having a good time. We all stayed up until the small hours hanging out and lamenting the fact that our little mini-tour together was over as quick as it started. Emma was staying down South for Southsea Fest so – after the morning – we'd be going our separate ways. We were giving Sophie a lift to London though, so we'd have a little bit more of her the next day. Up to this point, we – especially me – hadn't really had a chance to hang out and get to know each other. We picked the girls up in Norwich and drove straight to Cambridge where I hid at my parents' house, met back up at the gig, and left each other again. So it really did feel a bit weird that we were finally getting some to just relax and hang out but that our tour together was essentially over already. For the first night of the tour, I slept on a floor. I think I did pretty well to manage beds for the first three nights. Emma decided she wanted this massive bean bag the house had, and pretty much threw me and Rob out of the room, so we slept in what had been the gig room. Estimated daily miles driven: 131.0
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Day Five: Southampton → London We woke up on floors in Jay's house and took far too long to get ready. I'll readily admit that I really wasn't looking forward to anything after this. Southampton had been really, truly, incredible and I couldn't see any way how playing a tiny bar stage in-between bands would come anywhere near to this. I think it's safe to say that me, Rob and Laura were all seriously considering sacking it off at one point. Still, more sensible heads prevailed and we did, in fact, attempt to carry on our journey, but not before getting breakfast. Our little touring party was joined by Kerry and Robin to head to a cheap pub for food. We bumped into my friend Leanne en route so grabbed her too, and Paul joined us after his early morning postman shift finished. We ended up at the Avondale, which is a Scream pub which means cheap and good enough food. They had a 2-for-1 deal on desserts so – prompted by learning that Paul always does this himself – ate two desserts myself. After an all-day breakfast. Good times. We realised that we couldn't leave yet as Fun Alf had parked behind Rob's car, blocking us in, and then crashed round renowned artist and moustache wearer Olly T. Taylor's place. Eventually Alf surfaced so we could say our goodbyes to Emma and Southampton, gather our things, and head to London. Whilst in Cambridge I'd borrowed my Dad's sat nav, which would prove invaluable, especially when trying to navigate inside the M25. We'd decided that we were going to park up and crash at Asher's flat in South London and commute to Nambucca in North London. This would save us having to find somewhere to park near the venue, and mean that – if he wanted to – Rob could drink. Having had to leave late because of Alf's car, we got to London far later than planned. I'd wanted to get to the venue by six, and by the time we found somewhere to park near Asher's, said goodbye to Sophie and pointed her in the right direction, got a bus to Waterloo, and got the tube to North London, it was just about seven. Doors were at seven. Asher wasn't sure if there was even going to be a PA for the bar stage, so my mood sunk even further as I really didn't feel like a repeat of Cambridge's attempted acoustic gig. As we arrived at Nambucca, I noticed my old house-mate was standing outside. He lives in London now and mostly works in bars and pubs, so I figured he might be MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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on a break from work. Turns out he'd actually come to see me, which was nice. I probably spent most of the evening chatting to him which meant I barely saw any of the support acts in the main room. When we finally arrived we were greeted by a dude who looked vaguely familiar, but I'd chalked that up to him looking like general aged 40-50 rock dude. There was sandwiches waiting for us and everyone was really friendly. Plus there was definitely a PA and an actual stage – albeit a tiny one – in the bar. All week we'd played on flat surfaces and this was our first actual stage. So far, everything was actually going alright. Me and Asher were going on in between the bands, so we had 4 slots to play with. We decided to alternate with me on, then Asher, then me again, and ending with Asher. Over in the main room, some crappy metal band called Subset played. On the Nambucca-created Facebook event for this gig, which listed Subset as being on first, the singer had this to say: “hello nambucca thx for page. subset will be playing 2nd or 3rd not first, thanks” Suffice to say, I was pissing myself when I realised it was in fact Subset on first. Back to our stage and I decided to just fucking go for it. I'll admit that I had a tendency to not feel into a gig and half-arse it, but tonight I decided to just do it and see what happens. There wasn't many people watching us, but the few who were – I think they were mostly Asher's friends – did seem genuinely into it. My mood was definitely starting to perk up. Asher played his first set – also joined by Laura – and it was ace. I was starting to develop a much better mood. The dude who greeted us – who I'd later learn was called Graham – gave us free beers. I don't drink, but I appreciated the gesture. Rob was loving it. He'd planned to stay sober in case the gig was shit and he felt like a late-night drive home, but as things got better and we all got happier, that plan changed. During my second set – I think during the Bad Touch cover – I'd let a load of kids grab the mic. Graham signalled for me to come over and I thought I was in MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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trouble. Turns out he wanted to give me a tray of free shots for everyone. He wanted to get everyone “fucked up” so people would stay and have fun. Sound logic. He also wanted me and Asher to do more stuff after Random Hand and he promised more free shots. This guy had a plan. After Random Hand's set me, Asher and Laura fucked about for a bit. I did a song or two, Asher did some stuff, we did a load of covers – including the three of us doing Junior Spesh which will, no doubt, be a tour highlight – and Laura's cover of that ONSIND song. The night quickly descended into what I like to call “party guitar” (which is a term I stole from Kelly Kemp) wherein the guitar gets passed around and people play covers and everyone sings along and has fun. Covers played included Linoleum by NOFX and a Sublime song. One of the girls behind the bar was getting really into the Sublime cover and looked vaguely familiar, but I chalked that up to her looking like generic alternative bar girl. Graham offered everyone a shot of Sambucca – because we're in Nambucca, geddit? – and, even though I don't drink figured I'd have one as a sort of end-of-tour bonding experience. Rob comes over at one point saying how he's been chatting to Graham and it turns out he owns the place and is really into MC iPod and was implying I should do a residency. I went over to have a chat and he seemed like a genuinely awesome guy, who really just wants to run a fucking ace venue. He offered me some more gigs – one of which will definitely be the biggest gig I ever play if it happens – and we chit-chatted. Again, good dude. We got talking about venues and him running one, and I mentioned that I used to work in a venue. He asked which one, so I told him (The Ferry Boat Inn in Norwich). He points out that he knows the Ferry Boat and took a band there once, The Suffrajets. At this point my face absolutely drops and everything makes sense. But first, here's a long story to put everything in context: Ian and The Suffrajets (The Abridged Version) Many years ago (i.e. 2005) I wanted to book Big D and the Kids Table. At the time they were on an agency called First Contact. In an attempt to get to know First Contact, I took the first band they offered me which happened to be The Suffrajets. I wasn't a massive fan but Ben from Norwich band Lalia (RIP dude) begged me to do it and offered to do loads of promotion for it, so I agreed. Ignoring contract disputes between me and the agency, the gig came and the MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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band tried to soundcheck, but kept – repeatedly – tripping the venue's sound limiter. Eventually they managed to, sort of, control it so I thought we were good to go. All three support bands played without any hassle so I thought everything was going to be fine. The Suffrajets took to the stage and had an issue or two but tried to keep going. I was at the top bar – outside of the gig room – and the drummer stormed past me. I remember saying “I guess the gig's off”. It was. Her dad, their manager, was very angry and tried to incite a riot. Well, he wanted people to “smash the place up”. He wasn't a small guy and when he stormed up to me I honestly feared he was going to hit me. Luckily he didn't, but he did tell me not to pay them; which I wasn't going to anyway after this performance. Since then, it's become my go-to 'promoter horror story' and something – truth be told – I was still a little bitter over. Fin. I confessed that this had been my gig. I really wasn't sure what was going to happen next. Would he throw me out? Rescind his rad gig offers? He laughed and hugged me. Me called over the bar girl, who it turns out is Gemma, his daughter and drummer from The Suffrajets. She laughed and hugged me. Thank fuck for that! Turns out we were all amused at the fact our paths had crossed again, and appreciated the chance to apologise and have closure. Gemma had seemingly felt bad for acting “like a diva” and profusely apologised to me over it. I apologised for the venue. Everything was fine and it is now, finally, all water under the bridge. Graham decided that we'd all have a drink, so got JD and Cokes for me, Rob and himself. Rob mentioned that I don't drink and Graham offered to get me something else, but I felt that – for the sake of closure – me and him should have a drink together. Also at this gig I met Ian Armstrong. If that name means nothing to you, then you've never put on mid-level punk/ska gigs. I tried to introduce myself but he didn't really want to know and tried to get away so – just for fun – I kept pushing the conversation anyway. He didn't seem impressed. I laughed though. After chatting with Graham for a while, our little party ended up outside with MC iPod Tour Diary (September 2012)
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some friends of Asher's. Someone was spraying perfume and I ended up smelling like a cheap hooker. Asher, Laura, Rob and myself headed back to Asher's – via a couple of night buses – where we had to be incredibly quiet as Asher's mum was looking after Asher's baby niece. Me and Rob hadn't realised Asher shared the flat with his mum. Not that it was a problem, we just didn't realise we'd be woken up by his mother. She seemed nice though. We ended up staying up pretty late, just shooting the shit. At some point I offered to release Asher's next Chapter Eleven album. I stand by this offer. I'm sure it will be genuinely amazing. It also makes the second release I have upcoming with Laura on it; the other being the Damsel EP. I'm sure I can rope her into doing some MC iPod stuff on record, too. At this rate, she's rivalling Dan Allen for most appearances on my label's releases. Estimated daily miles driven: 82.4
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Day Six: London → Cambridge Me and Rob were staying in the lounge, which had a massive window with a pretty epic view of South London. Unfortunately this meant I got up when the sun rose. Again. Laura was staying with Asher, so it was just the two of us leaving. Rob had work the next day so didn't want to hang around too long. He even turned down breakfast from Asher's mum. Rob particularly wanted to get away early enough to try and avoid driving through London in the traffic. On this tour it became quickly apparent that Rob hates London. That said, he did a pretty good job of getting us through it. We'd attempted to drive south, get on the M25 as quick as possible, and go around London. We ended up driving north and driving through London. We'd managed to not hit much traffic and it was – surprisingly – a pretty painless drive. Well, I say that; I'm not the guy who had to drive. All I did was sit in the passenger seat and faff around on an iPod. By this point, our iPods-have-to-be-on-shuffle rule was out of the window and we actually chose what to listen to. As drives go, this was pretty straight forward, via a food stop at Birchanger services. We made it back and that was it. The tour was over. I got pretty bummed out when it was over. I didn't feel like going back to my normal life of being unemployed, broke, and trying to run a money-losing record label for little-to-no reward. Oh well. Estimated daily miles driven: 60.0 Estimated total miles driven: 457.5
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Tour Glossary Over the course of the week, various words and sayings got used and over-used. Here's a list of some of the best. A Lloyd – a measure of human size, based around size relative to Lloyd Chambers from Southport/Bear Trade. Originally coined by me to try and describe just how big Big Mike really is. I described him as being “two Lloyds”. Back in My Day – yes, I am such an old man I use this phrase a lot. Barlow – some Northern dude who Emma knows and talks about all the time. Emma Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 – my wholly unoriginal name for Emma. Louise Distras – saviour of punk rock. Освободи Освободи Освободи брусчатку! – the only part of a Pussy Riot song we could vaguely pronounce, from their song Raze the Pavement. According to Google Translate, it's pronounced “Osvobodit' osvobodit' osvobodi trotuar!” Shit Got Weird – examples of shit getting weird can be found in Norfolk, or wherever Crunk Juice is consumed. That's What She Said – over-used more than you could imagine. I decided to use it as much as possible, resulting in Rob constantly lecturing me that it should be “quality, not quantity”. Which, no doubt, resulted in a “that's what she said” from me. Wellllllllll – usually shouted by Laura at Sophie. It comes from Sophie's song AntiSocial. Sometimes followed by “...you can call me Sophie Porter” or “...you can call me Pussy Riot”. Well-Oiled Machine – my sarcastic description of mine and Laura's performances. Zig-a-Zig-ah – from the Spice Girls song. Sophie decided that this could mean anything, but ultimately settled on it being a tour poo.
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Addendum Here's a couple of bits and pieces I forgot before: Emma and Sophie shared a guitar as there was really no way we'd have fit both into the car. Especially with my stupid merch box (which I left behind in Cambridge as I was sick of carrying it). Laura is a vegetarian; Rob very much isn't. I kept, constantly, referring to Rob's food preferences as “meat stuffed with meat wrapped in meat with a meat jus�.
This is Asher's cat. She's looking right at you.
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