....and the more that came in, the more it was actually going to happen. The biggest sub of them all, to date at least. G-Man had put my name forward for a short European tour with Sophie Solomon. Eleven shows in twelve days: Amsterdam, Brussels, Paris, and a week across Germany. From full time office work and no gigs less than a year ago, I was about to do the real thing, on a bus, with a band.
After a bunch of phone calls between G-Man, the manager and Soph, I finally met her for a coffee in Portobello Road where she gave me a copy of the album and some charts. I already had the album at home funnily enough through G-Man, and so shortly thereafter I hooked into learning the material with great gusto. An all day rehersal was scheduled in about two weeks, more than enough time to get the show together.
Sure enough, the day came around, and I was well prepared. It's an amazing thought really - a proper show where I had recordings and charts and ample time in which to learn the material before a direct, time-efficient rehersal where everyone knew their parts and knew what was going on.
You mean like a REAL job!?
After getting the material together, my next thought was a clothing upheaval. If I'm gonna be a touring rockstar, I need to look like one! So for the next available sunday morning, I called up my two most supa-stylin' mates, D-Funk and Mr N, to accompany me upon an excursion through the rambling markets of Camden Town in search of a list of crucial items. A resounding success on all counts, I walked away with a new suede jacket, new hat, not one but two new pairs of shades, and two crevatts (although I forgot how to tie them as soon as I walked out of the shop, but I'm sure I'll remember one day!). Their services were kindly repaid with a free lunch of their choice from the markets, and then Mr N and I took a walk up to Primrose Hill for the usual view and obligatory ales at the local establishments.
The evening saw us retire to D-Funk's apartment, and that's where it all started to go a bit blue and hazy, so by the time the Scorpion Dog requried my alliance on a dodgy venture to the usual East End haunt, the night had taken a far more inebriated turn....
Finally getting to the jam session at Uncle Sam's in Dalston, Mr N and mate were already there amidst a sea of long weekend revellers. It didn't take him long to find a Brazilian photographer sitting near to us, and it took me even less time to find the cute Japanese girl sitting beside her. I'd been drinking for most of the day, so in an uncharacteristically total lack of hesitation whatsoever I just launched in. It must have been like something straight out of Coota RSL - loud drunken Aussie, pure class!
Somehow all the usual questions of how are you finding the place went to can I have your phone number, and I was amazed to find that she was obliging with her email address, which I thought might have been a blow-off, but it ended up in the phone anyway, somehow! I knew that through the oncoming week of life upheaval and teaching reorganisation, it'd be worth dropping a quick note, just to see how it went....
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