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Fondest
memory of the tour:
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Difficult, as there are so many, but flicking through my mental diary, one does immediately come to mind. The first night, at the Hollywood Athletic Club, and the magical protean moment of suspension that proceeded the first note of the first song (Double Dare). There was no curtain this night due to the restrictions of the small club venue, so instead of the usual drama of that theatrical entrance, we merely walked onto the stage. The atmosphere was super charged and perceiving an opportunity to gather this in, instead of launching into the fuzz bass introduction, I decided to hold the moment. The electricity built exponentially as band and audience, cognizant of an almost unbearably heightened perception, savoured a very special moment. The bridge between the last note sounded in London fifteen years before and the announcement of the resurrection to come. This will live with me forever.
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What
show or city sticks in your mind as the best:
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Again,
so difficult. Every show was rewarding, every one
unique. From the aforementioned electric rough and
tumble of the initial date in Hollywood to the
majestic rapture of the penultimate performance in
Lisbon, when nine thousand impassioned Portuguese
people held cigarette lighters aloft at the end of
the set, transforming the theatre into a glowing
firmament of stellar like flame. For me, this was
the tour of tours and in a way, it was all one
marvelous concert. It was night and we touched the
stars. Not "hell again", but very, very heaven!
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What
was the funniest moment of the tour?
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For most of the tour the band would fly and the crew would travel by road. On one memorable occasion, however, the former would join the latter for a land-based journey into Hell during which some would still fly! 5 am and due to a sudden termination of the nausea inducing vibration that denotes the rolling of wheels, I am aroused from a state of irritated semi-slumber. Minutes pass....many more minutes pass..... seemingly enough minutes pass to usher in a count of hours. Why aren't we moving? Are we there? Impossible. We are not due to arrive at our destination until nine in the morning, and anyway, we would have all been gently kicked off the bus by now if this were the case! No, something is evidently up! An investigation is in order. So, dragging myself from my (previously mobile) coffin, I venture forth into the tobacco-smoke clouded environs of the front cabin. Here my olfactory sense is alerted to another presence. Sharp, acid and stinging. I need to take a leak. As I enter the John, I am greeted by copious chunky deposits of purple-green-black slime. Someone has been very ill indeed. I flash back to the sordid scene of some four hours previous: A bottle of red wine, tilted at an angle of 80 degrees, the last of its contents trickling into the puckered mouth of a well known guitarist, this now dead soldier having been passed to him by the one known as 'Vampire Boy' (note: not a member of the band) due to his nocturnal lifestyle and general darkly glamorous appearance. This was a two man bacchanalia on wheels and it looked set to go on long into the night. I bid my farewells and retired to my rocking crib. That was four hours ago. Now I appear to be aboard a stationary landlocked 'Marie Celeste', abandoned drinks, half eaten pizza, and empty but still warm seats, and not a soul in sight. Suddenly a frantic looking tour manager appears. "Have you seen Vampire Boy or Daniel?" she splutters. I have to answer in the negative. "What's going on ?" I inquire. 'What's going on' is as follows. Having become inebriated to the point of near to life threatening toxicity, the one who could still walk (after a manner of speaking) decided that a pit stop would be very necessary in order that the one who could not walk any more, could put head to porcelain and pray to Our Lady of the S-Bend, seeking penitence for his sins and cure for his sorry condition. The bus pulled into a scene out of a Wim Wenders road movie. A gas station in the middle of the middle of Bumfucksville, Nowhere, with greasy spoon and adjacent brick shit house, towards which , our disheveled anti-heroes beat a careening retreat. Due to the protracted length of their stay 'retreat' could be applied in the monastic sense of the word. The bus driver therefore decided to utilize the time and fill up with gas. A pump was sought. Moments after the vehicle pulled away, an identical wagon took its place, this being the hired property of rock legends 'Van Halen'. The scene was set! 'Time goes by so slow...' Due to the non-reappearance of the distempic duo, the bus driver was dispatched to investigate the contents of their shithouse sanctuary- Empty! The greasy spoon diner was then searched. Now the movie had changed to 'Priscilla, Queen of the Desert', the slop kitchen being populated by plaid shirted alpha male truck drivers with wrists like hams and mounds of cholesterol on their plates. The idea of our two skinny boys, clad fetchingly in their baby tank tops, velvet flairs and electric blue platformed booties, their hair waxed and teased into punky spikes, amidst all that red necked testosterone, well, the idea! Still, the wayward ones could not be found. Maybe they had been eaten. The search party returned to the bus. Nothing to do now but wait and hope. Van Halen drove off towards their next port of call and scene of rock and roll mayhem. Van Halen drove off. VAN HALEN DROVE OFF!!!! OH-NO!! Yes, it was indeed entirely possible, nay, probable, that the Van Halen touring party had suddenly been increased by two! 'Have you seen Vampire Boy or Daniel?' This is where we came in. The perplexed tour manager runs towards the diner in a desperate last ditch attempt to locate the A.W.O.L.S. The bus driver and I join in the search. No sign. The tour manager decides to phone the vehicle hire company to inform them of the dilemma and if possible get them to call the Van Halen bus to check on the situation there. I return to our coach. The rest of the crew, exhausted from many nights with only little or no sleep, rest soundly, sweetly oblivious to our plight. I am the only one awake. Until.... "WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?" It is Daniel. Suddenly I am almost made to feel guilty! "Er, more to the point, where have you been?" I reply. Apparently, upon emerging from the gentleman's convenience, He and Vampire Boy had been distressed to find a great gaping expanse of air where the bus had been. "THE BASTARDS! They've gone without us!" Came the plaintive cry. In order to move to the pumps, the driver had taken the most direct route which involved making a circuit of the diner and 'rest room'. For approximately 3 minutes, the vehicle was out of sight of anyone standing in front of the buildings. This was the precise moment when the lost tribe of two re-emerged into the cruel light of dawn. Necessity being the mother of invention, Daniel hatched a plan. They would venture into the diner and proceed to charm the waitress into letting them stay over at her place. Vampire Boy's eyes were showing only white as Daniel mopped the residue of bilious vomit from the corner of his slack jawed mouth. "For God's sake pull yerself together and smarten yerself up! Come on, we've got work to do!" He could still talk...just! (It was at this juncture that Van Halen made their brief stop before rollin' on down the road. It could have happened. It very nearly did happen, but in the end was narrowly avoided due to unconscious bad comedic timing!) Vampire Boy resembled an imbecilic ape returning from a prolonged voyage in outer space as the two veered at ever more acute angles to the tarmac en route to the highway as they left the diner, House of Pancakes and home of the cold shoulder. With two dollars between them, our abandoned puppies were about to set forth on a great adventure, when, glory of all glories, Daniel SEES THE BUS! The rest, as they say, is misery!
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What
most impressed you about the tour?
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LA
for its sense of event and 15 minute sell out. 'Saudade' Thank you one and all.
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If
you could be a woman who would you be?
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Helen of Troy.
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What
have you been doing since the end of the
Resurrection tour?
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zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.......(not!) |
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