THE DEEP POOL - NOVEMBER 2003

In small chalk-streaked fields, long rows of vivid orange pumpkins lie under pastel-blue November skies in the dawn, while old shaggy ponies stand nose to nose, glad the flies have gone - in the distance the Hamble estuary eerily glints silver and ebbs toward the sea, here where thousands of years ago the Romans set up a trading post, to swap mobile phones for lesbian pornography - i must get all this stuff out of my toilet soon so i can sit on the lavvy and write my masterpiece...

I'm late with the pool this month because i've been on tour in Spain, UK and Greece - the last two with my friend and colleague Michael Weston King. It was all great fun, but gruelling, and afterwards i had to lie down in a darkened room sipping reviews through a straw whilst stroking the bottom of my nurse.

Moments to treasure: leaving the Sheffield Travelodge with the very wonderful Decent Men band to go in a taxi through the freezing Yorkshire air to a simply wonderful bar called The Devonshire Cat, which in additional to a blinding array of world beers, had some of my favourite scrumpies (peasant cider) ever - Space Donkey, Ruby Tuesday, Waterloo Sunset, Drain Cover, Wrong Eyed Jesus, Old Terrorist's Giggle, Blood Stockings, Rolling Hedgehog, and - my favourite of all - Old Moist Widdecombe's Ravine,which always reminds me of a particularily unpleasant Glaswegian insult - 'quick love, close yer legs, there's a car comin'.

Before that we had had an equally enchanting time in a pub in Nottingham called The Forest Tavern which is the other face of the gig The Maze where Michael Weston King and The Decent Men also played on tour. Here we had excellent Mexican food, followed by rather a lot of superb Belgian beers,some of which we, yes we, had not heard, this particularily delighting the great drummer Steve Killer Jackson (as chance would have it, while we were sipping our glasses of Leffe Blonde, 'Drivers Seat' by Sniff 'N The Tears was played - Steve was the drummer on this great single). If you saw us on tour, i'm sure you'll agree it was a great show - we were stunning at The Borderline, and apart from the quality of the show, it gave me a chance to be the electric lead guitarist for a change, and meet up with Steve, Kevin the bass player, and Michael Cosgrave too too too.

The other performers were most dashing as well - Miss Lou Dalgleish, Allan Cook on pedal steel, dobro, mandolin etc, not to mention that lonesome pioneer of the inexactitudes of the inner prairie, Mr Michael Weston King himself.

Brrrring Brrrring - what the fuck is that horrible noise? Oh, it's Rex, my trusty alarm clock telling me that if it's Thursday it must be Athens, and that means getting up at 5.30 am to get the Athens/Thessanoniki Express Train (5 hours) for our show in Salonica. I get up and open my door - Michael is already dragging his wheelie bag with the broken wheel so it goes 'guurnagigiggurrnohnochonumble' every 4 seconds across the hotel landing.

'Morning Michael!' i say cheerfully (well, why not?) - 'written any new songs this morning?'

'Oh yes, AND changed my guitar strings for tonight's show!'

The dedication of the professional musician - it brings a tear to your eye, just like in Mikey boy's songs....

(This next bit may upset some readers - i suggest you look away).

However, we were travelling first class on the Express, and as the train clanged carefully through the mountians of Macedonia, we sat in the Dining Car, drinking Macedonian white wine over lunch (chicken in red wine for me, moussaka for Michael). The waitress decided i was a great bloke for some reason, so threw some young backpackers out so we could have the best table in the carriage - ha ha, that was funny - you should have seen their smouldering hate-filled trust-fund eyes as they slouched off with their empty water bottles to join the underclass in the next car - a nightmare space of obese children throwing crude plastic spiders at each other while their parents drooled half -eaten processed cheese sandwiches, spraying wet crumbs every time they made shouty noises at their kids for poking the eyes of the aforementioned backpackers - moments like these - professionals like Michael and me exchange furtive smiles and get out our mobile phoones to make enquiries about the necessity of there being a good reverb unit at tonight's gig.

'Why you need reverb? - the people will hear you anyway...'

In Palma, Athens and Thessaloniki we met kind people, were given a splendid traditional lunch in Salonica, and had the unusual pleasure of hearing our records being played on national radio AFTER ROBBIE WILLIAMS! We were twitching with such joy that our taxi driver slowed down in case we were being seriously ill - 'no it's OK, it's just that that's ME on the radio!'

I'm preparing for my show at Den Haag at the Crossing Borders Festival, Netherlands, on Friday 14th. It's with Ian Rankin, Ciaran Carson and David Thomas with Michael Cosgrave providing his brilliant support. It sold out immediately - none of these guys know each other at all, and we're not going to rehearse - should be fine... There will be a DVD of the show with filmed interviews - in the next Haunted Valley magazine i shall be publishing the emails which i sent to these men setting the scene for the event.

At least i'll be staying in the Hague Novotel - a hotel hitherto unknown to me - another breakfast to miss - yes! - next year will be my fortyth year of playing shows - i'm going to call the whole year of gigs 'Forty Years of Missed Hotel Breakfasts' -

'What were the sausages like?'
'Not bad - a bit chewy'.

jl