
The Jazz Butcher
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- June 20, 2002
June 20, 2002
The associated Gig:
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the 20th anniversary tour
June 8-19, 2002
JBC 20th Anniversary Tour Travelogue - Day One
June 8, 2002
Ich Bin Ein Hamburger!
A loooong first day. After all, I left Minneapolis at 1:00 pm,
arriving at 10:30 am Hamburg time. The connection from Boston
to Amsterdam was some 6 hours long, and the seats unreasonably
close together. Clearly they were designed with legless pygmies
in mind. The in-flight movies were 'Snow Dogs' and whatever the
hell the Brittney Spears movie is called, thereby completing
the aesthetic.
Arriving in Amsterdam officiated my first experience outside
of the continental US. The airport was a good primer for the
foreign experience, in that English appears to be the default
language. The flight attendants were all blonde Amazon supermodels
in bright sky blue uniforms. So far, Brian like-y this 'Eur-ope'.
I arrived in Hamburg to be met by the wonderful Owen Jones -
Drummer, tour organizer and hamburg-host with the JBC. We rode
the train into town, and sat in the front room of Casa de Jones,
listening to David J's most recent demo tape. We talked a bit
about the itinerary and proposed set lists, while he tried diligently
to find a bootleg that I didn't already have (success came with
Munich '85...he was so pleased to have stumped the one they call
'the archivist').
And then...sleep...
When I awoke, I found Owen, his girlfriend Baerbel and the just
arrived Max Eider out in the little garden wood-house/ bar. Max
and I caught up while Owen went off to prepare a fantastic pasta
supper for everyone.
Then it was off to the local pub, where the band will be playing
on Tuesday night. We played darts (501) after which I taught
them how to play cricket. It seemed ironic to be teaching a couple
Brits how to play darts (and cricket no less), but by the second
round, Max had got his game on, and put us all to shame.
It is, of course, world cup football (soccer) time, and apparently
most of Europe and certainly the Jones household revolves around
the tournament schedule. Me, I plan to sleep in...until I am
awakened by a couple of aging British rockers drunkenly shouting
'GOOOOOOAL'.
June 8, 2002
JBC 20th Anniversary Tour Travelogue - Day Two
June 9, 2002
I awoke to find Owen once again bustling about the kitchen, preparing
a wonderful vegetarian breakfast, which we proceeded to enjoy
out in the yard. Again today, the boys were keen on watching
football. They were most excited to cheer on Japan, having found
a recent kinship after playing there for the first time last
Summer.
So, while the displaced English gentlemen watched soccer, Baerbel
and I went walking. Altona, which is the county we are in, was
having a festival. Sideshows and music, food and drink and fantastic
people watching. Max & Owen soon joined up with us, and we took
the ferry boat
down the river (gorgeous) and took the train back. I was glad
of this, since all the shops are closed on Sundays, and I desperately
needed my diet soda fix. I took advantage of the vending machines
at the station, and loaded up. I felt very much the ugly American,
buying four 1 liter bottles of diet coke...I'm sure the Euro-perception
is that we Yanks have coca cola in our veins...hmm perhaps they're
not half wrong in my case.
Still a bit jet lagged from the long journey over, I went down
for a nap. I was awakened by the boys blasting 'Southern Mark
Smith'. They laughed and said they considered a number of ways
to wake me up, but that seemed the most kind. Too true.
Chef Owen had prepared a homemade spinich pizza that was unbelievably
good. I did the washing up, wanting to earn my keep. The generosity
of these guys is too much, really...I've barely spent a Euro
since I arrived...every meal has been prepared, every train ticket
paid for. I had to insist on paying the bar tab at the pub this
evening... fortunately for me, it was a tame night for the fellows
who once sang 'I don't wanna think about how much I drink/ it's
a habit that's out of control/ I hope I never get dry before
I get old'. Little chance of that! Me on the other hand...
At the pub, the song 'He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother' came on,
and Owen confessed that 'soppy' as it is, he loves this song.
He asked the bartender if she would turn it up, which she did,
and upon it's conclusion, played it again. Our table just sort
of sat and swayed, enjoying the music. Just then an elderly gentlemen
wearing a bathrobe came in to buy cigarettes. I informed Owen
that he'd gone and woke the neighbors.
We returned to the flat, and I played DJ, introducing the Brits
to some of my contemporary favorites, Gorillaz, and Soul Coughing.
Then, in honor of the recent passing of Dee Dee Ramone, I put
on the Ramone's 'Blitzkrieg Bop' which then had us talking about
punk rock history until it was time to retire.
Tomorrow, Pat Fish, the Jazz Butcher hisself, and Ms. Kathy McGinty
arrive. No one is sure what time, and Owen refuses to call and
ask him. 'Feck him, if the bastard can't be bothered' was his
and Max's attitude, 'so long as he brings the rubber reptiles
(JBC mascots) for the tour bus, otherwise, there'll be hell to
pay.
June 9, 2002
JBC 20th Anniversary Tour Travelogue - Day Three
June 10, 2002
Today was rather quiet...call it the calm before the storm. The
storm, of course being the arrival of a certain mad Northampton
tunesmith. Hurricane Pat, as it were.
We split up during the day, Owen went to get the beer, Max went
to the music store for guitar strings and such, and I went to
the shops. I had planned to go to the airport to greet the Northampton
faction, but Max had yet to return, so I stayed behind to let
him in.
Now, many of you know of my notorious sense of direction (or
lack therof), but it pales in comparison to Mr. Eider. Owen told
me that they once stopped off at a pub across from the airport
before their flight...across the street, mind you...and Max managed
somehow to get himself lost and nearly miss the plane.
Well, once again, Max entered what the band calls 'the Zone'...that
being the Twilight Zone, and what should have been about an hour
long errand became something of an all day exercise. The good
news, is that Max is quite at home in the Twilight Zone, as he's
spent a lot of time there.
Pat and Kathy arrived at about 8pm, and after hugs and warm greetings,
we all made our way out back to 'Fritzi's Bar'. I should describe
this. In Owen's back yard he's got a wooden...well, clubhouse
rather aptly describes it. A handpainted sign reads 'Fritzi's
Bar', named for his and Baerbel's first cat. The Jolly Roger
flies over the door.
Inside, there is a fully loaded bar, and 3 stools, which, when
occupied, means the place is packed. As Pat pointed out, the
bartender was clearly behind the design, in that there is as
much space behind the bar as there is in front of it. But, we
all agreed that the ergonomic design is neccessary...for nothing
must hinder the barkeep from the swift fulfilment of his duties.
Then, 'Barkeep Owen' became 'Chef Owen' once again, and we supped
on couscous. The inn is now at full capacity, so now it is really
a matter of feeding the troops.
Owen asked if the plan was to go to the pub afterwards, at which
Pat and Max looked at each other incredulously...
Max: "is the Pope Catholic?"
Pat: "Does a bear shit in the woods?"
Owen: "Does Dolly Parton sleep on her back" ... pause
Pat: "Thank you so much for that enduring mental image."
And so, off to the Pub it was. Pat and I had the chance to catch
up some. When we last met in LA, last year, his mother had just
died, a scant two weeks after my mom passed. We talked a bit
about dealing with that, although unfortunately, his situation
is compounded by having to deal with his mother's estate. From
the sound of it, it has been an altogether terrible ordeal. I
think this tour is the best thing for him...A chance to redirect
his energies and let loose.
Wishing to let the three old mates have an opportunity to catch
up on their own, and wanting to be rested for the whirlwind that
is to follow, I decided to retire early. Tomorrow 'Baby' arrives
(aka Steven D. Valentine, bassist and legal representation for
the JBC), and the pub will serve as something of a warm-up to
the tour ahead. Not to mention, at midnight's chime, the band
celebrates it's official 20th birthday. June 12, 1982 was the
first Jazz Butcher gig, and that same day, Pat said, they signed
on the dotted line. If they knew then that they would still be
doing this some 20 years later, They might have dropped the pen
and run screaming.
Today was mostly business in preparation for this evening's show.
Owen & Kathy & I went to sort out the business of the tour bus,
whilst Pat & Max headed off to the airport to pick up Mr. Valentine.
A little background on Steve...he is a California native and
a JBC fan like myself. He volunteered to play with the boys at
one point, and...like many fans...was abducted. He
helped Max record his solo record last summer, and, in that
he is a lawyer, he serves as legal representation. As I say,
he is quite a bit younger than the pop stars he's gigging with,
and looks even younger than his age, hence the nickname of 'baby'.
So it was that we loaded up the bus, and went to the venue. This
was not an 'official gig' in any real sense, more of a party
and a warm up for the next week's shows. The pub itself is not
really designed for a rock show...they have folk music on Tuesdays.
So it was that the quarters were most tight on the 'stage'...also,
it was commented upon that the bar had never heard music so loud
before.
So loud, in fact, the politzei were called. As Pat pointed out,
'we may be old, but we're still antisocial.' So it was that the
gig was cut short...but they did make it to the midnight mark,
at which point baerbel brought out a birthday cake for the band
& guests.
The strangeness of the evening left the band feeling a bit out
of sorts, but a few pints and things looked brighter. At any
rate, tomorrow we leave for Munich, thus starting the official
tour.
Day 5 was mostly travel. The day began with a phone call booking
the band for a second gig in Belgium...rock! We got on the road
at a fairly reasonable hour, Baerbel kissed us all good luck,
and we were on our way.
Everyone was still a bit weary from the night before, not to
mention getting up at an unGodly hour to watch football. The
drive was long, but we reached Nüremberg in about 6 hours or
so. The initial plan was to go straight on to Munich, but Pat's
judgment at Nüremberg (pun intended) was to stay the night and
pick up the additional two hours or so the next day.
The hotel we stayed at was French, and had all of the modern
conveniences of a plastic room with a mattress on the floor.
Indeed, we got onto the elevator, which promptly trapped us until
Owen smartly came to look for us. Good thing, too...for we know
what happens when you leave a Fish too long in an elevator (don't
we?)...Also, no phones in the room (hence, no internet connection,
hence no report...QED)
I enjoyed a much needed shower and a good night's sleep, and
in the morning, we had breakfast outside a small cafe. We again
took to the autobahn, arriving in Munich mid-afternoon.
After setting up, the band did a rehearsal (since they hadn't
had one...even prior to the Hamburg gig) and really tightened
up. By soundcheck they were in the groove, and well looking forward
to the show.
The club owner prepared dinner for all, after which I went for
a stroll. Former JBC alum Peter 'No Show' Crouch turned up, to
everyone's delight. I ran merchandise before and after the show,
and once again got to be 'JBC answer man', a job I am uniquely
suited for. Pat decided that I was in charge of 'Public relations',
and was pleased with the number of CDs that sold...so I am earning
my keep. :
June 10, 2002
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