Diary From The Road
a view from the tour bus

Welcome to my diary page which, as a result of this manic lifestyle I lead, is generally only updated on a weekly basis. Simply click on the month you want to view. If you have more time, why not visit my Diary Archives from 2004, 2005, 2006 & 2007?

Jan|Feb|Mar|Apr|May|Jun|Jul|Aug|Sep|Oct|Nov|Dec

April

Sunday 27 April, 2008

So, yes, I’m a little late with this week’s entry, however I want to share with you, where I am at this very time: not to be smug in any way, rather to try to communicate this impression of enormity that I’m grappling with this morning. Intrigued? No? Surely just a little?!

I actually have the laptop perched on the typically wide window ledge of my Tokyo Hotel (the Cerulean Tower, in the city’s Shibuya district) – mostly all skyscraper hotels in Tokyo seem to feature “deep” window sills – we’re talking 15 inches or so, and I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that it bears some relationship to the occasional earthquake occurrences here.

The view from this 34th floor room (if “view” is the correct definition) is just of an endless metropolis: every size and shape of building – the majority of which, of course, are tall – as far as the naked eye can see. Maybe it’s because this is my thirteenth trip to this country in thirty years that I’m absolutely convinced I could not live here. Now, don’t get me too wrong: the people are wonderful, the culture fascinating and the nightlife memorable – but when the time came to escape it for a while, where could you go, for as little tranquility?

The traffic-ridden elevated flyovers that crisscross the city are literally within touching distance of the office and apartment blocks, that skirt almost the entire length of them: an hour and a quarter to get in from the airport today (Monday 28th), although – in fairness – with our Qantas flight from Perth touching down at 09.45 am, this morning, at Tokyo’s Narita airport, probably not much different than trying to make it into London’s West End, from Heathrow, at the same time of day. Good advice for claustrophobics: Tokyo’s not for you.

I was, of course, a little saddened to have left Australia – particularly where (as a result of Paul and Julie Ann having some family belonging the city) we stayed on after the show, for three days. Yes, folks, it’s one of those rare occasions where my accounts are totally up to date: it’s almost unsettling.

When I left off last week, we had just finished our show at Sydney’s Opera House, which meant that on Monday morning we were on an early flight up to Melbourne for our first “back-to-back” show since Mexico City (I was recall doing eleven shows back-to-back, way back in 1976 with Jethro Tull, so this surely could be a whole lot more frantic).

Tomorrow (Tuesday 29th) and Wednesday will see Paul play his first ever Japanese shows, and the good news is that we have sold-out the first show and we’re not terribly far away on the second one: I’m still reeling for the fact that I’ve been here twelve previous times (I had to run through them again, in my head, to make sure that was a true figure) so I don’t know if you’ll be interested in the list of acts (in, almost, chronological order): Aerosmith; Bay City Rollers (2); Japan (the band!); Alcatrazz (2); Wham; George Michael (2); The Cult; Westlife (promotion only) and now Paul Potts: that’s only twelve!! (that I can remember, anyway …)

Heading off to Korea later in the week, from where next week’s diary will be penned (we have three shows in Seoul and one in the coastal city of Busan.  See you “there” next week. BFN.

Sunday 20 April, 2008

Well, guess where my show was this evening? None other than the Sydney Opera House!

Sure, I’ve been to Australia a few times over the years – but the shows always seemed to be at the arena-sized venues (it’s hard to see The Cult playing the Sydney Opera House). Now, to be honest, although the venue is a worldly-recognised icon, the interior of the actual concert hall is certainly no more lavish than at least six or so of the opera-type venues we have played on this tour, so far. It’s the exterior of the building – rather than the interior - that captures they eye and leaves one with an indelible memory of it’s unique architecture.

So, what of the past week? Well, as you know (if you read last week’s entry!) I was rather saddened to leave New Zealand behind. Now, originally, the plan had been to fly from Auckland, Australia bound, on Monday afternoon (14th) to Adelaide, via Sydney. In fact, our crew guys stuck to this itinerary: however, Paul, his wife and myself – at the request of the record company – took a little “detour” via Melbourne, for a full-on day of promotional activity on Tuesday. We then flew up to Melbourne on Wednesday morning, in readiness for the show at Adelaide’s.

The next day we flew up to Brisbane, the city that my son has recently announced he wishes to travel to – once his University term finishes – to hopefully (for the both of us!) find his fortune. So, I’ve acted as a sort of “advance party”. Unfortunately, there were only two direct flights from Adelaide to Brisbane (one early morning, one late afternoon) so I was not able to have enough time, as I would’ve liked, to have a good look around the city, on his behalf. However – and I’m sure the decent weather had some influence on my initial impressions of the city – Brisbane comes across as a fairly cool city. Yes, I was here a couple of times with George Michael however – as all you young things will invariably discover, with the passing of time – the old memory cells are not quite what they used to be! Maybe just as well.

On Thursday evening our Australian promoter invited us all out to dinner at a very pleasant Italian restaurant near the river, which only enhanced my overall view that there could be a lot worse places than Brisbane, than my son could have chosen to embark upon the next stage of his life’s travels. The fact that the unemployment levels are refreshingly low always helps!

Following Friday evening’s show in Brisbane – at “QPAC”, next door to the city’s University, we took a flight down to Sydney, with no show last night. Chris Taylor (piano player) and myself took a late afternoon leisurely walk along the waterfront in the direction of the Opera House itself, passing very close underneath the Sydney Bridge (our hotel, Sebel Pier One, was located a mere stone’s throw from the south end of the bridge. Believe me, it’s only when you stand underneath that monster of a bridge that you seriously begin to marvel as to how they ever managed to build that bloody thing, all of eighty years ago. Quite stunning.

So, with the unique experience of having, today, played the Sydney Opera, I’m sitting here on the outside deck of the Sebel’s ground floor bar, staring out over the bay and pondering that – really – this isn’t a bad old life I lead: trouble is, I can’t do this forever. Mmmm. Any ideas?!

Sunday 13 April, 2008

Alas – sadly – tonight (Auckland) was our last show of four, here in New Zealand: it’s a pity to find myself leaving here tomorrow, en-route to the Australian leg of the tour.

As I slightly struggled to explain last week, the last ten days or so have imbibed in me some strange form of calmness – and it therefore surely has to bear some relation to the new environment that I found myself in. Yet, I still can’t exactly put my finger on it.

On Monday, having undertaken the Christchurch show on the previous day, we took a midday flight to Wellington and checked in to the city’s Bolton Hotel, a very impressively designed establishment, where the subtle in interaction of colours and fabrics – both in the corridors and the bedroom – leant the hotel a very pleasing and comforting ambience. Of course, not much happening on a Monday night except – as a few of you kindly remembered –the occasion of my birthday! Managed to deftly hide that fact from the rest of my traveling party: knowing my guys, it would have immediately been deem as unquestionable cause for celebration.

Actually, the other three guys (Mark, Chris and Mark) had gone out to eat earlier in the evening, whereas I was determined to finish the last elements of my US-tour accounting and Fedex the paperwork back to our New York accountants. Consequently, I caught up with the guys at a restaurant, about ten minutes walk from the hotel, just after nine in the evening.

As they were just finishing their dinner and heading back to the Bolton Hotel (and also because their reports on the food they just eaten was not exactly glowing) I decided to seek out a restaurant in the Courtney Place part of town, the area – I was reliably informed – which “jumps” at the weekend. However, it was pleasing to be able to enjoy a leisurely dinner on my own, reflecting upon another year under my belt. Things could be a lot worse. A lot worse.

The day after the Wellington show, at the Michael Fowler Centre, we flew to the city of Rotorua, famed – and I kid you not – for it’s smell! The smell of sulpher hydroxide that is, being that Rotorua is located smack bang in the middle of New Zealand’s geo-thermal region: lots of mud springs and bubbling geysers. Everyone who has spent any time in the region kept re-assuring me that one will soon become used to the smell – however I’m not so sure.

The good thing was that we had a couple of days break in Rotorua, prior to Friday’s show and therefore – particularly with the weather being the most pleasant it’s been, since our arrival in New Zealand, I spent a fair bit of time doing – well – not much really: and it felt good.

Just to be able to sit outside one of the many street side cafes - and bask in the warm glow of the afternoon sunshine – was at least some reward for the grueling North American schedule.

Back down to Auckland yesterday morning, on a dinky eighteen-seat plane to play our last New Zealand show tonight, to a sold out house and a very receptive audience. So, it’s off to Aussie land tomorrow, for our first show in Adelaide on Wednesday night. I would certainly welcome the opportunity to come back to New Zealand soon. I have enjoyed it immensely. See y’all.

Sunday 6 April, 2008

Christ(church)! We’re in New Zealand and what a genuinely enchanting country it is. 

When I left off with you guys last week, I was en-route to Queenstown, on New Zealand’s southern island, where Paul and his wife had decided to “hole up” for a few days. What a picturesque part of the country this proved to be: the minute we touched down at their quaint little airport (no security check, before boarding the flight in Christchurch, to fly to Queenstown!!).

It’s quite something to depart Los Angeles last Monday evening, after flying in from Mexico City, and then touch down in Auckland, early on Wednesday morning (if you care to work out the time-zone changes and add that to the actual flight time of the LA-Auckland direct flight, then you’ll see how one actually loses a day!). I think it’s all done with mirrors.

You must check out Queenstown on the internet: a lovely little town, nestled between gentle rolling hills on one side – and a blue-green lake on the other. Yes, folks, I could stay there (well, I did – but only for three nights). The biggest challenge was finding a printer, in such an idyllic situation, which could copy, collate and reduce my tour itineraries for the next leg. However, step forward, the Queenstown Business Centre – and a young lady called Julie (as I recall!) – all the way from Galway in Ireland. Job done in just over three hours!

Having undertaken four different flights in under twenty-four hours, to reach Queenstown (Mexico City/LA; LA/Auckland; Auckland/Christchurch and Christchurch/Queenstown) I was fairly zonked: however, bitter experience has taught me to “graft” myself onto the local time zone, at the earliest opportunity, in order to minimize the sometimes-crippling effects of jet lag. In this case, it meant trying my hardest to stay up until later on Wednesday evening.

On Thursday and Friday, I completed various accounting tasks relating to the recent US tour – however, thankfully managed to find some time to wander aimlessly around Queenstown and partake of some of the local “attractions”, most notably the “Sky Lift” which whisks one upwards to the top of a prominent hill, overlooking the panoramic vista of Queenstown below. I actually experienced a small tinge of regret, as we made our way back to the quaint little airport yesterday (Saturday) afternoon, en-route to Christchurch, from where I sit at the venue, just completing the last couple of paragraphs for this week’s “Diary from the Road”.

Tonight was my first ever show in New Zealand.  It’s been too long coming: twice I’ve been heading this way and twice, budgetary constraints have put paid to it. I’m trying to come to terms with the country – what I’ve seen of it so far – but there is undoubtedly a ”uniqueness” about the place. I should be able to have crystalised my thoughts in a more articulate manner, this time next week, having spent another seven days, drinking-in the atmosphere. 

Environments, such as this, can also surely only have beneficial effects on my state of mind and therefore – as I continue to silently grapple with “where I’m at” – this calming effect that appears to have infused itself in my being, since arriving here in this fine country. BFN.

March

Sunday 30 March, 2008

Ola! I write to you today (Monday, actually) en-route from Mexico City to Auckland, New Zealand, via Los Angeles: this, of course, heralds the completion of our “North American” sector of the world tour – and, upon reflection later, possibly the toughest sector we will have endured.

I believe I left off with you guys, in Calgary last Sunday, awaiting our show in the city on Monday evening. On Tuesday morning we caught the flight to Los Angeles and booked into West Hollywood’s Le Montrose hotel. Of course, I have something of a love affair with that particular area of California, having spent extended periods of stay there, on two separate occasions in the 1980’s. It was good to meet up again with my dear friend Penelope and just having her company for my short stay there – in conjunction with my natural - at times unexplainable – affinity to that whole West Hollywood area, just instantly recharged my batteries. I love the place.

Back to reality: our show on Wednesday evening – at Los Angeles’s legendary Wiltern Theatre – went off without a hitch: many guests at the “after show” gathering (as you would expect in such a major, media, city) but very convivial indeed. The venue has a very helpful, experienced, technical staff – and that makes for a great difference (and an easier day) for my “crew” guys.

Although I would loved to have spent another night in Los Angeles, we all agreed that it made the best sense to have a tour bus show up after the performance at the Wiltern - and transfer us down to Phoenix, for Wednesday night’s show at the Ikeda Theatre in Mesa, a suburb 30 minutes from the city centre. Of course, with the extensive after-show arrangements, we didn’t actually leave the venue site in L.A. until around 12.30 am on the morning (technically) of 27th, Thursday.

However, it did not take our driver, Charlie Jam (never got round to asking him the origin of his surname!) long to cover the 225+ miles to Phoenix – with the result that we were pulling up at the front door of the Ritz Carlton Hotel by nine o’clock in the morning. Being that our reservation was (technically – that word again) for Thursday evening only – and also seeing as the hotel had enjoyed 100% occupancy the previous (Wednesday) evening – we unfortunately were not able to check in until 10.30 am: still, that was better than we had anticipated, so we were happy campers.

Wednesday night’s show went particularly well (Paul now back in full voice, following a minor cold bout) and everyone was in good spirits as we headed for Phoenix airport, Thursday, to catch the international mid-morning flight to Mexico City. My fourth visit to this huge metropolis.

I would venture that you really have to visit Mexico City to truly appreciate the vastness and the sprawl of the city. I would love to read up on how it became so populated and so extensive.

Sunday 23 March, 2008

I’ll bet you guys had more than an idea that I had managed to fairly seriously slip behind – again - with my “Diary of the Road” entries: and, oh, how right you were.

Today, thankfully (as I sit in the city of Calgary, a city with some distant, fond, memories – more of this later), I can report that I’m definitely on the mend, albeit I’m struggling to eradicate a wheezing cough: however, compared to how I felt this time last week, in Ottawa – as you may recall – I’m definitely on the road back to fitness (something of a pun there, maybe).

This particular evening finds me sat in my hotel room in the Sheraton eau Claire, in Calgary, where many, many, moons ago (1976 to be exact) I finished an eight-month stint with the band “Jethro Tull” and took my first ever road – and rail, to some degree – trip in the US. I’ll tell you how far back it was: Stella and I actually managed to hire a car, one way, from Vancouver to Los Angeles, purely on the strength of a $500.00 deposit and a photocopy copy of our passports – not a credit card in sight. Changed days, huh?

So, just to summarise, we boarded the Canadian Pacific train in Calgary, to Vancouver; flew from Vancouver to Denver and then picked up said hire car in Denver and drove to L.A. via Las Vegas. One day, I may elaborate on those bygone times (oh, to be back there now) but to quote my very special friend Loraine “I don’t do regret – it’s too saddening a place to visit”. Ah, Loraine – the woman merits a couple of weeks worth of “Diary of the Road” entries, right there on her own: she could still kick my arse at “University Challenge” - even if she had her TV sound on mute.

Time to – almost grudgingly – haul myself back into the present, and a rather chilly Calgary evening. So, what of the past week? Well, on Tuesday morning past, we took the long flight west, from Ottawa to Edmonton, thankfully on a day off. Now, much as though Edmonton is a fairly vibrant city, there’s no way I could live in such a place, being how “land-locked” it is. Strange that, don’t you think, coming from a guy who swims like a brick? But, that’s the way I feel.

Contrast the above view with that of the city that we traveled overnight to (through the Rockies) after Tuesday night’s show in Edmonton – namely Vancouver. Oh, Vancouver. Many years ago I had occasion to be temporarily based in the city, for five days and discovered much of the character of the place that has increasingly endeared me to the city on each subsequent visit. If the opportunity comes to visit this charming city, I’m sure you will not be disappointed. Trust me.

Sunday 16 March, 2008

Well, avid readers, while I may have left off with you in Boston last week, in the good ‘ol U S of U, you find me today – penning this week’s edition of the Diary from the Road – in Ottawa, Canada: however, the very situation I was quietly fearful of (catching some stray bug, when my resistance was so low, following on from too many severely late nights on this tour – all work-related, I have to say!) has actually happened for real. And I’m not in a terribly good way.

I’ll backtrack over the events of the last week, from which you’ll be able to ascertain how I managed to degenerate into the wheezing, coughing, wreck that writes before you, today.

On Monday past, having played the Boston show a week ago today, we drove back down to New York City (still self-driving ourselves at this point) with the benefit of an evening off. We checked into Manhattan’s Affinia Hotel, an “all-suite” affair, located on 7th Avenue and East 31st Street, almost diagonally opposite Madison Square Gardens. I would definitely stay there again.

Paul had a couple of business meetings to attend with his New York accountants, therefore I busied myself with the procedures of handing back – and settling up for – the two SUV’s. Our next transfer – a flight from New York to Toronto on Wednesday afternoon – dictated that our brief love affair with self-driving was now at an unfortunate end.

So, we come to the New York show on Wednesday evening, at The Town Hall on 43rd Street and – as is typical with the big city shows – the emphasis can often shift from the basic requirement of performing a good, entertaining, show to ensuring that no-one on the guest list is left without the correct designation of backstage pass! Perish the thought. Of course, no New York show is complete without the accompanying “shindig” afterwards (for shindig, read record company after-show party) which is where Paul picked up a slight bug - said bug obviously figuring that, as it was not having too much luck making any serious (lasting) impression on Paul, it would sneak around looking for some far more vulnerable individual – and, yes, it found me.

I didn’t actually realise I was starting to come down with anything until yesterday (Saturday) morning. Since flying out of New York to Canada on Wednesday afternoon, we played a show at Hamilton’s Hamilton Place Theatre, then “overnighted” up to Montreal and then overnighted back down to Toronto for last night’s show. The combination of me pushing myself to sit up until 5.30 a.m. on Wednesday morning to finish my US accounts (and therefore not to have to drag them all the way to Canada with me) and my already physically weakened state – from too many similarly long nights on the UK tour – put me right in the frame for this bout of flu that I’ve contracted.

So here I sit in Ottawa today, having traveled up from Toronto during the day today, on this “day off”:  busying myself with the diary, as much to take my mind off things, as anything else.

I would have to confess to having felt better – the road is the worst place to try and rid oneself of such ailments, being that you don’t have the luxury of “holing up” in the one place and attempting to sweat the thing out of yourself. I will think seriously again in the future before I take on such a workload with so little time upfront of the tour. Can’t keep doing this to myself.

Sunday 9 March, 2008

So, now we are on the road for real (this week has seen us play another five shows on the US sector of the tour) and with there being a long way to go – world-wise - the need to pace myself is of paramount importance. I’m painfully aware that I’ve probably endured one too many “all-nighters” during both the preparatory and UK sectors of the tour and – God forbid – if I pick up even any sort of mild bug, I not best prepared to ward it off. 

On Monday morning we took a mid-day flight from Tampa to Washington and picked up a self-drive SUV from National car rentals, our mode of transport until we reach New York next week. I enjoy driving some of the shorter distances on the US tours, although it’s only when you have a compact touring party – as is our current situation – that you are able to achieve such a situation.

Pardon me if I’m repeating myself here, but our world-wide touring party is now down to a total of six: myself; Paul and his wife Julie; Mark Agnor (Conductor); Chris Taylor (Piano Player) and Mark Littlewood (Sound Engineer). When we have “back-to-back’ shows here in the States – as was the case with Tampa last Sunday and Washington last Monday, then the three “crew” guys will invariably take an earlier flight, to enable them to arrive at the venue with enough time to check through – and test - the local equipment, prior to the orchestra showing up for their designated rehearsal time (and, we’re using a different orchestra in every city as well!).

This was the case with Monday past, with the crew guys flying into Washington-Baltimore airport and picking up their hire vehicle and us flying into Washington-Dulles and collecting ours.

As our next show after Washington was on Wednesday – at the massive Foxwoods casino in the depths of Connecticut – at a distance of over three hundred miles, we decided to drive north out of Washington, directly after the show, for a couple of hours and check into a hotel, en-route, in Wilmington Delaware. As the hotel in question was located just off the freeway, it was pretty straightforward to make the stop – and we were soon on our way again next morning to Foxwoods.

You have to see this Foxwoods complex to actually believe it: the largest single-casino facility in the world, built on an Indian reservation – and therefore free of normal restrictive state gaming laws, that would otherwise prevent such a venture being able to operate (something to do with being located on “sovereign” soil – I must read more about this when I have time). Wild, man.

Having played at the small theatre within the Foxwoods complex on Wednesday evening, we then traveled south, 136 miles, for Thursday evening gig at Westbury’s North Fork Theatre, a quaint old establishment with the stage located in the middle of the venue – making for a very intimate venue, with the audience almost within touching distance. As Westbury is literally a suburb of New York, we stayed in Manhattan on Thursday night – particularly as we had Friday night off in the Big Apple. On Saturday, we drove south out of the city for a show at the Borgatta Hotel and Casino complex, in Atlantic City: for me, a quite charming area. Yes, it’s another “gambling city”, but with bags more charm than Las Vegas (the newer part of Vegas anyway) will ever be able to muster. After the Atlantic City show, it was time to take another long(ish) journey north, for tonight’s show here at the Berklee Performing Arts centre in Boston. Pretty manic week, huh?

Sunday 2 March, 2008

Most of this last week was spent in Las Vegas, awaiting Paul’s performance – on Thursday past (28th) - for that special one-off show, hosted by Tony Bennett. There was me thinking I should manage to get close to catching up on my work, but it didn’t entirely work out that way ….

An essential part of my any Tour Manager’s job – relating to “upcoming” territories on a world tour such as this, is the “advancing” of future shows: this entails calling ahead to each and every promoter – of each and every venue – to check over all production-related details of the show.

Time consuming? You bet it is.  Absolutely necessary? Unquestionably. However, for reasons I’ll briefly touch upon here, it’s a time consuming process. From my (the Tour Manager’s) end of things, it’s best if I’m sat at a reasonable workspace surrounded by laptop, advance files and proposed tour itinerary: this is fairly easily achievable if one is located in the familiarity of one’s normal work environment – in reality, this is rarely the case.

It’s far more likely that at the very time I need to apply myself to call a particular promoter, relating to his Paul Potts show, I’m stuck at another venue on another show, or I’m connecting flights in some distant city, or I’m out on a promotional run with the Artist. These previous circumstances are of course only my side of the coin: now we come to the guy I’m trying to hook up with, to successfully conclude the “advance” – namely the promoter’s Production Manager.

The very nature of the job description of the promoter’s Production Manager deems that, invariably, he is out on the road somewhere (at the very time you’re trying to get hold of him, of course) producing a show, for another Artist.

So (if you’re still with me here) you start to appreciate that just accomplishing one show advance – which, in actuality, only takes no more than an hour on the phone initially – can take days to co-ordinate. Multiply that by, in the case of Paul’s North American tour, twenty-two shows and you start to formulate an idea of just how time consuming this “advancing” business becomes.

Anyway, back to this week past: Paul’s appearance at the show in Vegas went off without a hitch (quite a buzz for me to be “hanging” in the same space as the infamous Mr. Bennett) by which time – having spent almost a week in the city that was “hardly built by winners”, I was more than ready to move on. Subsequently, at 6.00 am yesterday morning (Friday) we were on a flight bound for Miami – and eagerly anticipating our first “real” US show in Hollywood (Florida) last night.

The show itself was staged in the Hardrock venue, attached to their Seminole Hotel and Resort, a vibrant entertainment and leisure complex, just teeming with the excesses of vibrant youth.

This evening (Sunday) we played a the enchanting Tampa Theatre, Tampa being one of several US cities that can boast the main railway line running right through the centre of town. Something of a surreal situation to be loading the gear out, after the show, with a seemingly endless freight train crawling through the street behind you. However, folks, if you’re up for a little of the surreal, then don’t move that dial. There’s lots more to come. Until next week on the road. BFN.

February

Sunday 24 February, 2008

Viva Las Vegas! 

Arrived here yesterday, from London, via Los Angeles, in preparation for a special one-off show, hosted by the legendary Tony Bennet – and due to be staged next Thursday.

Having completed the UK tour last Sunday (17th) and realizing, as I said last week, that I was just not going to have enough time to make it back to Scotland, prior to yesterday’s morning trip from Heathrow – I spent Monday and Tuesday holed up in the K-West hotel in Kensington (they say Kensington, but it’s just round the corner from Shepherds Bush!) completing the UK tour accounts and ensuring that I did not find myself dragging unnecessary paperwork to the States.

On Wednesday the children flew down for a couple of days and we all met up at a friend’s house, one hour north of London. Even though I was now in preparation mode for this North American leg of the tour (13 shows USA / 7 shows Canada / 2 shows Mexico City) I still tried to keep the nights free to spend with my children and my friends children. They have all known each other for many years, although it’s a while since they all spent some time together. Most uplifting!

How I could have done with a few more days this week, just so that I could have completed certain basic tasks, relating to this sector of the tour (settlement programme, cash road-float spreadsheet, etc.). Once the tour is rolling, it becomes very difficult to nail down some quality time, to deal with tasks that require a fair degree of concentration. The day-to-day touring processes of just traveling the Artist to the show, ensuring all of the required components of the show are in place – and then making the arrangements to move on to the next show – can engulf many long hours. Meanwhile the daily administration work often takes second place.

One then relies on one’s days off to attempt to catch up with the backlog of work, this being particularly crucial when relating to all accounting-based issues. However, as I’ve mentioned on many numerous, past, occasions - a “clear” day off is an extremely rare occurrence: there is generally some element of travel involved with every touring day unless, of course, one is fortunate enough to be doing multiple shows in each city: on which case you have two or three nights when you don’t have to pack up everything after the show. A rare luxury indeed.

So here we are in vibrant Las Vegas, the world’s gambling capital and – even having visited this city several times (mainly work-related) in the last thirty years, I still struggling to fathom the enormity of it all. As I reminded my children a few years back, when we briefly passed through here on one of our motor-home “road trips”, this city certainly wasn’t built on winners. Yet it continues to grow and, currently, to be able to boast something like twelve of the world’s twenty largest hotels, on the Las Vegas strip alone. As with many things in this life, I struggle to come to terms with the sheer industry of the place. In a couple of weeks we play “Foxwoods” in Connecticut, supposedly the largest casino in the world, on the site of an Indian reservation. A few more days here in Vegas and then the touring starts for real. Time to hit the road (Jake).

The first touring show is in Hollywood (Florida) next Friday – then we’re on our way for real.

Sunday 17 February, 2008

Well, whadya' know? We’ve come to the end of the UK tour: but, yet, this is only the beginning, in the worldwide sense

However, what can I tell you of the last week? Don’t move that dial. Here we go. It’s Monday, 11th, so it must be Bristol, where we arrived last Sunday, with no show that night.

Now, in terms of concert venues, it has long been argued that the city of Bristol could surely support an arena type of facility. In fact the stage doorkeeper at the Hippodrome (the venue where Paul’s show was staged) informs me that talks were seemingly well advanced on the new venue front, however council politics and lack of funding resources put a sudden stop to things. 

So, for the foreseeable future, Bristol must soldier on with the three most notable concert type venues in the town: The Colston Hall; The Hippodrome and the Bristol Academy. Apologies to anyone from Bristol who may be reading this if I am somewhat ill informed – I believe there may be another venue known as (or on the original site of) the Tobacco Factory. Then, I do recall playing a gig many years ago at the then Bristol Granary – is it still around, I wonder?

For our part, the Hippodrome is a quaint little theatre, not always easy to book, as a result of the amount of “residency” shows it hosts over the year. That’s more than enough on Bristol!

As a result of many of Paul’s close family and relations making the trip to be at the show, we stayed in town on Monday night and traveled up to Birmingham on Tuesday, this particular city being notable as the one city on the UK tour where we played two shows. The Symphony Hall is a magical venue, perfectly suited to an event such as this. Check it out if you ever have the chance.

Being that we were in the city for two nights, Paul kindly offered to throw a little “after-tour” party at the “Living Room” bar/restaurant just across the road from the venue. Hardly end-of-tour, you may be thinking: however, most acts who throw after-tour parties on the actual last night of the tour glaringly overlook the fact that the very guys who have been busting a gut to put the show in and out each day, have two hours works to undertake, on the load-out, before they are able to show up at any such soiree. When they do eventually arrive at the party’s location, the majority of the “comped” food and drink has been devoured by a bunch of liggers, most of who only bothered to attend the last show! So that’s why we chose Birmingham.

After a day off on Thursday, we played a show at Stoke’s Victoria Hall, a shining example of a facility that has spent millions of pounds in the last ten years, upgrading the inside and outside of the building, but who couldn’t find £250 to install a wi-fi system – not even an Ethernet cable!

From Stoke, it was on to Ipswich’s Regent Theatre (the old Gaumont, when I started doing gigs there) after which we drove directly to London’s K-West Hotel in preparation for tonight’s final show on the UK tour. This time next week, I should be penning my diary entry from Planet Hollywood in Las Vegas. Glamorous as it sounds, current pressure of work had deemed that I will be unable to make it back to Scotland next week to see the children. Them’s the breaks. BFN.

Sunday 10 February, 2008

Monday past (4th February) found me in London, having arrived at 3.30 am in the morning, after driving down after Sunday night’s Liverpool show.

I may have mentioned last week that the reason for making the above trip (rather than driving down to Brighton on Monday, in preparation for Tuesday’s show at the International Centre) was to enable Paul to pay a visit to obtain his US visa for the upcoming North American leg of his world tour. Paul’s appointment was in fact scheduled for Tuesday morning at 8.00 am, however there were certain business matters that required him to be in London on Monday, hence the reason to drive overnight from Liverpool and avoid the next day’s traffic jams, coming into town.

We chose to stay at The Cumberland Hotel in Great Cumberland Street, purely on the basis of it’s close proximity to the American Embassy in Grosvenor Square: however, on my view, proximity is about all it’s got going for it. Typically of many London “get ‘em in, get ‘em out” conveyor-belt hotels, the front desk staff are heavy on patronization, but way light on initiative.

As far as Paul’s appointment went at the US Embassy, he was finished before 11.00 am, which is a damn sight quicker than when I went there a couple of years back, prior to my trip to the States with Franz Ferdinand. Might have to put that down to Paul being far more recognisable than me.

Keeping in mind we still had a show to play that evening in Brighton, we checked out of the hotel (not easily, I have to say) by midday, and set off for the south coast, arriving just before three.

Brighton holds many fond memories for me, having visited my grandmother several times, when she stayed in Hove, the sister town to Brighton. Oh, to return to those days and those times.

On Wednesday morning we drove up to Oxford for show at the New Theatre, formerly known as the Oxford Apollo, many moons ago. In fact, I was able to suitably impress some of the younger members of our crew by leading them down into the depths of the building and pointing out the old mechanism that once allowed the centre portion of the stage to rotate. Pretty cool, huh?

Oxford was one of the “hit and run” shows on this UK tour, meaning that I decided not to book a hotel there, in favour of driving to Plymouth afterwards – particularly as Thursday was a day off. It was also to allow Paul to have as much time in Plymouth as possible as he spent three years at University there. Plymouth is one of those UK cities, like Newcastle, where I’m sure I could live.

The next day we enjoyed a most pleasant run from Plymouth to Portsmouth, aided by possibly the best day so far, weather-wise, on the tour. We passed through some delightful villages and hamlets in the Honiton and Bridgeport areas of Devon. I may just end up there one day.

With a day off beckoning in Bristol (and on a Sunday too) we decided to head directly there, after the Portsmouth show, a journey of some 122 miles, which took just over two hours – and this is where you now find me. Even more satisfying, is the actual fact that I’ve managed to

finally catch up with my “Diary from the Road” entries. Yes, I’ll sleep easier tonight folks. BFN.

Sunday 3 February, 2008

Way, aye, man!

I should explain that the above is a common greeting in the North East of England (primarily the Newcastle area) which – roughly translated – means “How’s things going?”. I’m sure one of my Geordie readers (the general reference to the people that hail from that neck of the woods) may wish to put me right on the above: come to think of it, maybe I don’t have any Geordie readers?

But, yes, how I love the city of Newcastle, where the local population will generally be found to be wearing their hearts on their sleeves. On this occasion, it’s probably just as well that our show was at the beginning of the week (Tuesday) as Jakey boy generally finds the lure of the Newcastle nightlife just too much to resist. Hey, life’s just a touch too short, is it not?

Newcastle City Hall is a venue I have played on many occasions and with a diverse array of Artists: every act – who is any act – has played there at some point in their career, the likes of the Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton and AC/DC (local lads) being no exceptions. A truly great gig! 

On Wednesday, I elected to treat that day’s show (at Sheffield City Hall) on a “hit and run” basis: in other words, we drove from Newcastle that morning, direct to the Sheffield venue, after which we drove another two hundred miles to Cardiff. Sure, it makes for a long day – but I’m willing to go for it on the basis that it’s one less hotel to check into and who wants to drive that distance cross-country during the day? Of course, a day-off on Thursday was also on offer.

The Cardiff crowd gave Paul a rousing welcome at Friday night’s show at the International Arena: certainly, with almost five thousand people in the venue, it was something of a “home coming” gig for Paul. It was also a chance for him to hook up with his many friends and relations who live in and around South Wales. We’ll certainly take a few more shows like that!

Saturday’s show was staged at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester, a venue at which I had never previously done a show. A lovely little venue, with the bonus that we could walk to our hotel (The Manchester Hilton) located just over a hundred yards from the back door of the venue. If you are planning on staying in Manchester at some point in the future, it’s definitely worth spending a night in that particular hotel, if only to marvel at the view from it’s 23rd floor penthouse bar.

Originally, the plan was to spend two nights in the Manchester Hilton, just commuting to the Liverpool show tonight (Sunday) and then leaving for Brighton tomorrow morning. However, we received news on Friday past, from our immigration lawyers in London, that Paul’s appointment to receive his US Visa was scheduled for Tuesday morning at 08.00 am. As part of the plan was to have Paul meet up with said immigration lawyers, on the day prior to his scheduled appointment – to enable a run through of the next day’s procedures – we had little choice but to leave for London, directly after tonight’s show at the Liverpool Empire.

January

Sunday 27 January, 2008

How strange – yet invigorating – to be right back in the thick of things, touring wise: we did six shows in seven days, this past week – and I’m here to tell you all about it.

I left you last week in Cambridge, where we had a day off on the Sunday, having made the relatively short trip (41 miles), from Peterborough, to check into the Cambridge Hotel du Vin, arriving around midnight. On this tour I’ve employed a general policy – with Paul’s approval – that (provided the distance is not any greater than 200 miles) we will always drive ahead to a day off.

Let me briefly explain the logic of this to you: although I’m always claiming that there are no real “days off” on the tour (well, certainly for those of us who are charged with keeping the wheels turning) it is certainly a better plan to drive after the show, even if it means an early morning arrival at the next hotel. The next day there is no packing of suitcases; no battling through rush hour traffic as you leave town and – most importantly – no sense of having “lost the day”, as the major part of it appeared to have been spent traveling in the people carrier.

Even though we didn’t arrive in Cambridge until midnight on the Saturday evening, none of us missed breakfast later that morning (helped by breakfast generally being served half an hour later on a Sunday anyway) – then having the full day in front of us, with our suitcases already unpacked in the city we would play next (on Monday night) - and not facing any travel that day.

One final thought on the subject of overnight tour travel: it generally only takes from anywhere between 65% - 75% of the time to travel somewhere after the show, rather than the next day.

However, back to this week: a most enjoyable show on Monday evening, at Cambridge’s iconic Corn Exchange, followed by an old favourite of mine, venue-wise, The Nottingham Royal Centre, on Tuesday evening. Now, there has been a long-held (mythical?) belief that there are two women for every one man in the town of Nottingham. If indeed true, I’ve always pondered as to how such a situation actually came about. No wonder all the lads seem in good spirits in the town!

Our third show on the run (Paul will generally only agree to three shows “back to back”, for the sake of his voice) was undertaken at the International Centre in Harrogate, a delightful Yorkshire town, noted for it’s health spas and its relaxing environment. After the show, I was faced with an-almost two hundred mile drive to Edinburgh, where we planned to base ourselves and “commute” to both the Aberdeen and Glasgow shows. That was a tough drive, in the end.

Sunday 20 January, 2008

I’m going have to admit to the sort of record that doesn’t exactly make me proud: I think this may be close to as far behind as I’ve ever fallen with my diary entries. Here we go to put it right.

At this time, it’s not even a question of whether honesty is the best policy – I fear that now it is the only policy. So let me tell you that here I am on Tuesday 5th February, after the Paul Potts show in Brighton, determined to get the diary back on track by this week’s 10th February entry.

Right: if you’re still following my current train of thought, I’ll now detail the events of the week ending Sunday 20th January – and, of course, that starts with Monday 14th January. So here goes.

Monday (14th) was the third rehearsal day – of four - at the “Music Bank” facility in London’s SE16 district. This was the orchestra’s first day of involvement and it was good to meet up with all of them and feed off their enthusiasm and energy. To some degree, it reminded me of my days with the “Lord of the Dance” show, when the majority of the dancers (all 32 of them) were aged under twenty-five: always positive in their attitude - and always eager to give of their best.

On Tuesday, our final day at rehearsals, Paul ran through the whole proposed tour set one more time, making some general notes as to the best time to chat to the audience and – conversely – the best time to sing two, sometimes three, consecutive songs, to enable the maximum effect.

We didn’t finish at rehearsals until around 8.00 pm on Tuesday night, meaning a late arrival at the St. Asaph hotel, based about eight miles from Rhyl, the site of our first two shows and (prior to that, on Wednesday) our production rehearsal day. Much work still to be done.

Rhyl, once a vibrant North Wales coastal holiday resort – in the days before the advent of cheap European travel – now sadly appears to be struggling to retain its attraction of past years. However, in Rhyl’s defense, it is hard to make any definite judgment in the month of January!

As you can imagine, Wednesday turned into a very long day: however, we succeeded in staging a fairly comprehensive sound-check with Paul, and Natasha Marsh, our supporting Artist. Our Production Manager, Steve Levitt, made the welcome decision to have our tour caterers on site for the production rehearsal on Wednesday, which – apart from providing an excellent standard of cuisine - obviously curbs the tendency for the crew to have to leave the venue for their meals.

Sunday 13 January, 2008

Greetings from London rehearsals, where we are halfway through a four-day spell.

I wasn’t wrong when I forecast that this would be a fairly heavy week: it’s a familiar pattern to be honest – and the day I manage to have an early night, prior to the first day of rehearsals, or the first day of a tour, is the day that the sun passes the moon, twice in the same year.

As I made mention of a couple of weeks back, the fact that this is Paul’s first tour, means that many (normally run-of-the mill) procedures require to be initiated, to be able to build a touring framework, from which we will establish a solid – future - touring base (a bit American speak!).

Both of my children, to varying degrees, have assisted with this week’s “preparatory” run – actually they have been around me many times, in such a similar situation, therefore (with several of the common pre-tour tasks) many times they only require the briefest of instruction.

Typically, there are certain tasks that they have, individually, come to loath (although the promise of financial gain usually, speedily, rectifies their disdain): with Jade, it’s the “newspaper editing”. I always have this nagging doubt that, having not managed to even open the newspapers some days, that their may be the odd nugget of information or journalistic article that I would want to file away for future perusal. However, on a week akin to this one past, one can easily end up with a pile of unread newspapers, including the “Sundays”, about a foot high.

In Jade’s case, she seems ill at ease with the handling of newsprint but, bless her, she battled through the job on Friday, managing to save me a few pieces of interest on the football front: she also slid an article on to my desk – when I was deeply engrossed on the phone - regarding the anticipated slump in housing prices: that particular one I could have done without!

When it comes to my son’s dislike of a certain domestic task, I would have to put that down to unloading the dishwasher. It gets done eventually, but under more than the occasional protest.

So, two more days in rehearsal and then off up to Rhyl in North Wales, in preparation for the first show on Thursday coming, the 17th. The rehearsal studios here in London are very organised, to the extent of having wireless (Wi-fi) internet signal beamed throughout the building. This allows me to beaver on, in the little production office adjacent to the main studio, while Paul is running through the shows with the orchestra next door.

Sunday 6 January, 2008

Well, so much for an elongated break over the holiday period.

Having been in involved (as best I can recall) in two past tours that kicked off in January, I’m well aware of how easily one can find one’s self falling behind with the workload as (especially in the music business) everything – business wise – tends to shut down until the second week in January: in the case of this (new) year, many of my key contacts will not be back at their desks, in earnest, until tomorrow morning, Monday 7th.

Sure, I took it easy over the 31st/1st on Monday and Tuesday past, particularly on old year’s night. Not being particularly proud of my achievements (or lack of them) in 2007, I was actually quite glad to see the back of the year. I know one should not really wish one’s time away – particularly at my tender age – however as the hour’s crept away towards midnight on Tuesday night – I’m sorry – it just couldn’t come quick enough for me.

The opportunity to actually wake up in the (a) New Year – a year when I certainly intend to put right the wrongs of the past one – became increasingly tempting as the hours wore on. What could I liken it to? Shrugging off an old, irritating skin, to allow the new one the space to breath and to grow into a far healthier specimen than it’s predecessor? Something like that.

I’m very thankful to have my daughter Jade staying with me over her “mid-term” University break. In my line of work (my proper line of work that is – the Music Business) you don’t get to see your children as much as you would have liked. The upside of this – possibly more so for them than their father – is that at least I enjoyed the level of income that allowed me to take them on a few decent holidays. I recall 2005 as a particularly memorable year, in that a combination of my US touring schedule and the ability to downgrade my Virgin business class ticket (to provide me with three economy class London to New York tickets, oh yes) enabled the children to come out to the States twice, to join me both in the middle – and at the end – of the Deep Purple tour. For that, I will be eternally grateful. I still have all the pics!

So, the rest of the past week, I’ve busily engaged myself in many of the day-to-day touring tasks that require set-up and preparation beforehand and which I really need to finish before the tour actually kicks off and I find myself having to deal with the inevitable “new tour” issues that will undoubtedly arise in production rehearsals and the throughout the initial shows.

Experience has taught me that this is a given: and when you add to that the actual amount of hours just taken up by travel every day, then such things as accounting settlement programmes, tour itineraries, payment schedules, hotel instruction letters, immigration (for the ongoing territories) really need to be dealt with, before puts one’s first foot on the tour bus.

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