Friday, February 11, 2005

Hello, every single one of you people purposely or accidentally stopping by this blog and taking a few moments to read. EIB is in Europe right now, I sit on the couch or our booking agent in Nottingham, the home of the infamous Sheriff of the Robin Hood fame. I have not spotted him yet, and am beginning to think this story is old. I think perhaps the Sheriff in this story is dead. The police here hardly appear evil enough to be the "sheriff of Nottingham."
We have been traveling around Ireland, Scotland and England with a wild pack of belfast boys known as The Dangerfields. We played a show in a city called Norwich, the promoter let us stay over night in the pub, which was kind, but every so slightly weird. When he left he locked the doors behind him so that we couldn't get out until he came back the next morning. In the one room we packed ourselves in, there was a sign that had fallen off the wall. The sign told the story of a woman who had died, right in the very spot where the drums were set. Supposedly she now roams the pub sobbing, waiting for her husband who is lost at sea. They call her "The Lady In Grey". We did not witness her traverse across the pub. The idea of being stuck over night with a bunch of crazed Belfast boys in a haunted river front pub, is much more threatening in theory than it was in practice. The night was actually quite pleasant if not just a little uncomfortable sleeping on hard wood benches that resembled church pews.
We had a sell out show in Scotland which was pretty amazing. Insanity with no stage separating us from the overzealous audience. There were a few annoying blokes who were trying to sing into our microphones even though they didn't know the words. One of them was an older bald punk with bolging muscles and two beers clamped in his fists. It takes some forethought to deal with this type of audience member. They enjoy the music but they are so rambunctious that they actually hurt the show for others. He knocked the mic into Liz's face, and that was enough. I kicked him in the chest, in the most kind way you can commit such a deed. He seemed to take it fairly well. I warned the audience that if they got near Liz for the last three songs we would stop playing. It was a daring move to make because I didn't know if they liked us well enough to take the threat to heart. But the DID like us, and they jumped around, went completely insane and avoided the stage as if there was bullet proof glass surrounding the front of the playing area. At every show we talked to many many excitable entertaining locals with thick accents that made comprehension very difficult, but we understood enough to know that they were good people who liked to drink a lot.
I quite enjoyed Scotland. We have probably played in front of more people in Scotland than any other place on any tour so far. I find that very interesting. I underestimated Scotland, and I apologize for my premature undisclosed judgment.

Well that's if for now. Take care folks.