Amsterdam promo, 26/9/07 We journey to the centre of Amsterdam and the Melkweg in our luxuriously appointed bread van, complete with inoperable door handles , immovable 'easy-access' seats and greasy-haired driver who spends roughly 98.7 per-cent of the time talking to his base camp on his shiny, ear-worn Nokia whilst steering us between juggernauts carrying finest Belgian mass-produced lagers. At speed. We make it to our destination, it's odd how after years of being driven by strange folk you can shut out the time for it always seems we're there before we know it. We arrive as it happens before the back line and swiftly decide there is no point hanging around, we ask said driver "where is American Hotel". He says right round corner, we are whisked off once more. He's a nice chap really. Memories are vague of nights spent in the distant past at the American hotel in it's heyday, well before it's lobby refurbishment and they are soon dispelled as we shoehorn ourselves into an elevator designed for a maximum of three small monkeys. Ah, all is as our memories recall up here! A bit shoddy and a lot smelly. Mark had a room for interviews and the band had a room for luxuriating in and resting before our evenings handiwork. Dudley, Luke Danny and myself spend all of 3 minutes in the room before we are lift-bound again and on our way downstairs in search of NON-British coffee. In other words, drinkable. We round the corner and find our coffee easily and have customary laughter and frivolity. Mark is soon off to do his obligatory TV's and Radio's etc. whilst Danny heads off to the Melkweg for much shed-building and tuning of strange skin of drum. Luke, Dud and myself find ourselves with 3 hours to kill and so are off down the flower market to buy rare and peculiar Tulip varieties. Fabulous market. As it's raining now, I buy an umbrella which I end up leaving in the Melkweg dressing room. We decide to visit every shoe shop on the route back to the hotel. I have to add at this point that Dutch taste in shoes is odd; nothing personal, just odd. After managing to avoid being run over by numerous trams we are back in the lobby and hungry. Into the coffee shop where we sample local sandwich delights and some Dutch white beer. Yikes. Good stuff. An hour later we amble over to the gig and check our sound. The soundcheck is fine and the stage is set We are greeted in the dressing room by many strange and wonderful meats and cheeses. We hear the a rumour that the runner has gone out 'to get chips'! As soon as he arrives back (with 15 large bags of burger king chips) Glenn and Colin walk in ...as if they knew. Strange. A chip and strange mayonnaise dinner it is then. It's eight o'clock and the compere gets on the mic. A seemingly endless introduction then follows which includes unknown phrases such as 'De molen gaat niet om met wind die voorbij. A great little set follows, once we finally get to the stage. We really love doing these little shows. May they long continue. These pics were sent in by Marius van Andel l
|
|
 Dudley Phillips |
 The chorus of Rudiger |
 |
 That's gotta be True Love Will Never Fade |
|
 Luke in red |
 |
 |
