Intrigued and missed out on checking out part one? You should consider doing so before reading on.
The next day it was time for our first proper show in London at the legendary (Heavenly) Social. Opened in the 90s by the founders of Heavenly records, this is the place where Oasis, Primal Scream, Charlatans and many others were regulars, vibing to house DJ’s The Dust Brothers, later to become The Chemical brothers and huge rock stars. It’s a tiny place with an enormous vibe and, as we learned during our set, a dancing sound-man! The guy was right behind us, too, bopping and mixing and doing a pretty good job at both. First-night-nerves quickly subsided and we had an amazing show. You can see some of the video evidence here. And a lovely review from Artrocker.
Then it was on to Brighton, another show with a bit of magic (and a nice review). The fans here were truly amazing and the town, too, has a surreal pull on the soul that still sticks with us now. Naturally, given Brighton’s Mods-vs-Rockers history, we had to have a little Quadrophenia-themed pilgrimage to the beachfront. There really is no sound quite as English as that of those pebbles crunching under your feet as the air reverberates with the psychedelic cries of hundreds of seagulls.
A discussion quickly ensued about who in the band would have been a mod and who a rocker, given the legendary rumbles between the two factions down here. Turns out most of us couldn’t decide and would have been “mockers”. Undecided Ghosts.
A honorary mention here has to go to our amazing Hotel Pelirocco, where every room had a rock’n roll theme. Punk, Mod…all represented…United Ghosts rocked the “Skint room”, which fittingly means “broke” in American.
Next stop Colchester, Essex, which proved to be yet another highlight, despite the county's reputation for being... well, let's just say not the most forward-thinking spot in the British Isles. This night, though, Essex proved them all wrong. We had a top show with cool folks rocking out and afterwards experienced some amazing hospitality from our hosts, who filled us up with lovely Hobgoblin Ale and then gave us a freezing, yet absolutely amazing, midnight tour of the ancient Roman city.
Colchester IS the oldest town in England after all, built in 60 A.D. when old J. C. had just been dead, hmmm, 60 years. Check out the pic of U. G. getting our history on in a spooky Roman Arch. (Was Jesus really an Essex boy?)
As you can probably tell by now, we had a blast on the road. We weathered a few minor crisees, lived at close quarters and most importantly found out we travel well together. A proper crew. Time flies, though, and before we knew it, it was time to head back to London for our last show at The Water Rats.
Talk about history, this place has it in spades. A vaudeville theater back in the day, the likes of Bob Dylan, Oasis and P.J. Harvey (not to mention yours truly) have all graced this stage since it became a club in the early 90s. As we went on to a packed house ( recent XFM radio play may have had something to do with that), we keenly flicked on our US electrical transformers, only to immediately KILL the PA!!
Amps went dark, fuses blew, the music stopped. It looked bad; this could potentially have been the end of our night. We managed to keep our tour cool, though, and after a 10-minute scramble, the landlord, who had once, long, long ago, been a roadie, miraculously managed to fix things and we went on to play the best show of the tour.
The audience rocked. The band rocked...we had it and they loved it! It was a seriously pretty night and everything we wanted it to be.
Half way through our set, whom should we spot in the crowd, though, our drunken, dodgy friends from our first night at Camden Palace! Including scissor girl, still bonkers as a bagful of monkeys.
It was here, too, that we re-connected with our photographer from the Artrocker feature a few days prior and his lovely girlfriend, who invited us back to the very place we’d been meeting at all week. The World’s End in Camden, though not to the pub this time, but the club underneath, aptly named, the UNDERWORLD.
This was Easter weekend and she would be at the door, dressed as a bunny. We had made our all-important rabbit connection. First, though there was an epic after party in Camden featuring all the Shenanigans you’d expect from the last show of a tour.
The next day, sporting matching hangovers, we got through a slightly blurry afternoon, during which sadly, Sean had to leave for the airport for an early flight home. The remaining crew of three then headed out to beautiful Alexandra Palace where we saw a cracking set by a reformed and re-energized Suede. In the course of the evening we picked up a couple of lovely Mancunians and decided to share a taxi with them afterwards-a taxi back to the End Of The World!
We got there to a massive line outside, but we had our trump card ready, proudly walking past the frustrated throng, only to tell security that, yep, “We know the bunny!”
And not just any bunny, but big, bad Mac-bunny in charge of the door. And there she was, all ears and whiskers and free tickets for all. Score!
So down we went to the Underworld, and I mean all the way down. As is the custom at the UK Indie disco, we drank like fish and bounced and twitched like poisoned insects on the dance floor, alongside a few hundred other punters to indie faves past and present, all played at stupefying volume. Brilliant!
Apparently they’d spun Holes into the Night earlier, just to round off our now slightly VIP-ish night and in the process a truly amazing first UK tour. We shall be back.
“See you at the End Of The World”, said the Rabbit…
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