2009 - Autumn

[Sweder]

Pressure? Let me tell you 'bout pressure amigo.
Pressure is having to unpack and assemble a borrowed, hitherto unseen (by me or the drummer) drum kit comprising a multitude of apparently identical shiny parts with folding spindly legs to support an array of skins that would satisfy an army of Orangemen. In 20 minutes. Whilst Motorhead are soundchecking Rosalie through the house PA. Pressure? Pah! I eat it for breakfast me ...

We discerned after several frantic, expletive-filled minutes that said kit was missing a hi-hat stand, snare stand, snare drum and stool. Thankfully the Damned stepped up and offered parts as did the venerable Hobbs, Motorheads' sound engineer, fixer of all things and generally top geezer. Rarely in all my days have I produced so much sweat in so little time. I wouldn't trade a minute of it for all the Lapsang Suchong in Soho.

As for diaries I'm erring on the side of living rather than observing it all. No doubt there will be hours in which to reflect - I've made a few notes - but I'll have to see what occurs. A lot of what goes on on tour should stay on tour. If word should get out that someone's pimping memoirs from the road a beautiful 30-year friendship might come to a messy end. Besides, I favour 'live', from-the-field reportage. I'm not one for chin-scratching and building something beautiful; I'd rather regurgitate, spew out events as they happen, laced with the diced carrots of error and omission, publish and move on. It's my way, flawed it may be, but I draw an energy from writing in the present that's hard to replicate outside the fast-flowing (as HST called it) Weird Lane.