Homeland-Tour 2019. October/November. Part II

01/11/19
Café Le Chez Nous & Les Tanneries, Dijon, France

Day eight. Rain. Rain in Basel, rain on the way, fog and even more rain in Dijon. Le Chez Nous, as on my last show here, a cosy harbour on the stormy seas of touring. After two days in Burgundy's finest, being fed and watered, being treated like the long-lost son or brother, this feels more than ever like some place I could imagine calling home some day. Even more so knowing I'll be without a flat in eight months time in Germany. Opening up a punk festival at Les Tanneries was a wild ride last night. No safety net, sort of back to the wall, loved it a lot. Moment like this remind me of what a good song, a voice and a guitar can do. A last one coming tonight at the Vieux Léon to kiss this city goodbye before leaving in the early morning hours for Ambert. The end of the world where souls were weeping and hearts were broken a year ago. Where the congregation of mourners were to set out for their grievous trail down to Nice. To the south. To bury the ghost that has spoken to me from the other side.

02/11/19
Au Vieux Léon, Dijon, France

Day nine. Yet another rainy day in the city of Dijon ended with a show at Au Vieux Léon. A smoky bar in the heart of the city, named after a Brassens song. Entering the bar made me instantly feel like being in the right place. The air heavy with rock'n'roll. Good spirit, lovely people, a perfect place for the kind of songs I write. At least tonight the whole scenery and atmosphere seems to be the perfect surrounding for them. As predictable things got later than planned or expected. Of course on this one tour day I have to catch an early train the next morning. Two sets. First one upstairs in the actual bar, second downstairs in the Léon's vaults. Late lunch in-between. Saw it coming but hell, no, I'll never skip a gorgeous lamb stew prepared by the boss himself if that's on offer. Delicious can't really describe it. The full monty. Of course followed by incredible cheese, a coffee and eau-de-vie. And it was a good night to hang out with Philippe who hosted me for the past days. What a guy! Nuff said.

Le Chez Nous. And the foxhole. Both fab.

Philippe et mon vin rouge.

Soundcheck at Les Tanneries, Dijon.

Dijon. Cradle of skinhead movement.

A good port. Very good. Dijon.

Via Baltica 2016

Two awful long rides. 72 h mostly behind the wheel. Turku. The ferry. Tallinn. Liepaja. Biala Podlaska. A minimum of sleep, roughly 1500 kilometers including a fair bit of gravel road in Latvia, a little nap on the driver seat, dozing away with a view of the baltic sea in the greyish dim morning light somewhere north of Riga. All muscles aching from both the endless driving and the fab but straining last gig in Tallinn, dizzy from staring onto the neverending dotted yellow line in front of me. Was it yellow? Blurred images of service stations on the nightly Via Baltica. Rush in, grab a coffee, a chocolate bar, still believing that little extra sugar would keep me awake long enough for another 20 or 30 kilometers. Just to make it in time for yet  another poorly paid gig? For the vague possibility of being rewarded by a small audience that appreciates the songs, the playing, the putting in everything you've got way beyond emotional exhaution? It's mad. It's totaly, utterly insane.

What makes people do things like that? They do it because it's worthwhile. Because nobody else would do it. Because there is nothing comparable to having given them the story of your life, all that you are, to people who have been strangers to you half an hour earlier, taking the risk of being turned down. Being ignored, being hurt in the worst case. But then there is nothing comparable to that wave of bliss following a short period of complete emptiness if it worked that particular night. Absolutely nothing.
Might be the idea of catching a fracture of a second's glimpse onto the other side. To have a stroll on that faraway boulevard, that high street of an inbetween world. Grabbing this shorter than short moment of eternal luck, being part of it, of a different world most people will never have the chance to see. Sure I know. It's playing with matches but it's irresistible once you've been there and made it back. It's one of those few remaining moments of magic in a world that has become too factual in it's functionality to allow such. A world trying to stop us from dreaming and thus putting it's sheer existence at risk.

Last Of A Dying Breed. Tourblog 2015. Episode 2

Die Toten

Jede Tour scheint in sich eine eigenartige Logik zu bergen. Macht man sich Notizen und liest die im Nachhinein durch stösst man in der Regel auf Muster. Mir geht's so zumindest. Der vier Wochen-Block im Frühjahr durch Skandinavien und das Baltikum war der regnerischste seit ich das mache und vielleicht der, der mich gezwungen hat meine Songs unter einem anderen Aspekt, mit einer anderen Attitüde zu spielen. Hat mich verblüfft das das möglich ist. Es ist offenbar doch noch mehr Punkrock in dem was ich mache als ich für möglich gehalten habe.


Diese, mittlerweile bei Tag 10 angekommene, Tour scheint sich ohne größeres Zutun immer mehr mit dem ihr gegebenen Namen zu identifizieren. Damit zu verschmelzen. Ich verlasse das von Kirchweih-Seligkeit besoffene Fürth, während die Bevölkerung des Landes in dem ich lebe vorwiegend damit beschäftigt ist Asylbewerberheime abzufackeln. Ein Land mit einem zwanghaften Drang zur Pyromanie. Keine allzu neue Erkenntnis. Ich treffe auf meine Toten, auf meine Vermissten und immer wieder Fragmente aus den vergangenen Jahren. Personen die ich vergessen hatte, Orte die ich nur noch verschwommen im Gedächtnis hatte. Eine Spiegelung dessen was sie tatsächlich sind.
Erstes Konzert Dortmund, Sissikingkong. Da sind Menschen die Isi und mich beim TFF Rudolstadt gesehen hatten, ein delirierendes Hafenviertel im Zentrum des postindustriellen Deutschland, eine Nacht zwischen Küchenphilosophie und Hafenschänke und erstaunlichen Erkenntnissen bzgl. der hiesigen Genussmittelversorgungslage.
Bei sonnigstem Herbstwetter nordwärts nach Wilhelmshaven, vorbei an Großenkneten. Wegmarke. Du erinnerst Dich? Dann das Kling Klang. Der letzte einer sterbenden Gattung in einer dahinsiechenden Stadt in einem der letzten Läden seiner Art. Leerstand, großartige Menschen und ein Auftritt der mich langsam in das richtige Fahrwasser kommen lässt. Die halbe Nacht mit einem Freund gesessen. Wieder die Küche. Erzähl mir von Deinen Toten und ich sag Dir wie's mit meinen steht. Die Dead Brothers als Ouvertüre zum Konzert sind mehr als passend. Was hätte auch anderes laufen sollen?
Den anderen Freund besuche ich tags darauf auf dem Weg nach Hamburg zum Auftritt im Mobile Blues Club. Hat weniger Glück gehabt. Der Friedhof von Lilienthal. Sonnig. Scheisskalt. Andrew und sein Fender Bass. Ich erinnere Momente die schon weg waren, Bühnen, Gigs und es schnürt mir den Hals zu. Krieg ne Textnachricht von Holm: Hab Deinen Song auf Deutschlandfunk gehört heute Nacht um 5. Das heisst ich muß zum Hamburg Konzert kommen. Sehn uns da. Kleiner, intensiver Auftritt im MBC, Übernachtung neben dem Otzentreff, Pflichtbesuch im Nachthafen. Sonntagsausflug am Day-off nach Groß Wedel. Fucking zweieinhalb Stunden runter Richtung Salzgitter. Ich mach die Tür von dem auf was mal als Haller's Kultur Cafe der Ignoranz der Region getrotzt hat. "Nee! Damit hätt ich jetzt nicht gerechnet! Der Mäkkelä!" Wir schlürfen Kaffee, ich höre zu wie sich Haller & Renate an die schönen Momente erinnern. Auch an die nicht so schönen. Er schenkt mir einen Gedichtband den er vor einem halben Leben veröffentlicht hat. Falls Du mal Inspiration brauchst.

Es wird spannend. Wohnzimmerkonzert in Gettorf. Wo das ist? Gute Frage. Nicht so weit von Hamburg, also runter von der Autobahn, Landstrassen, immer noch sonnig, traumhafter Herbst, Tour-Herbst. Vielleicht sollte ich das öfters machen. Das mit den Wohnzimmershows. Das Wohnzimmer ist voll. Auch mit Kindern die kreuz und quer herumkrabbeln und somit auch ab und an über die Bühne. Intimer Abend. Bei Ship Repairing Men outen sich mein Gastgeber und einer seiner Freunde als Werftis. So nennen die das hier. Leute die auf der Werft arbeiten. Hab ich nicht überrissen, aber klar, hier ist genug Wasser für sowas. Irgendwie passt gerade alles.
Sightseeing mit meinem Gastgeber Tim am folgenden Vormittag fällt flach. Es wird jetzt genau so wie man eine Tour im Herbst gern nicht hätte. Kalt, regnerisch, ungemütlich.
Tag sechs ist Kiel. Prinz Willy. Liebe ich, den Platz.  Der Abend im Prinzen dann. Wieder wer nach dem Konzert: Hab Tramontana auf RBB Radio Eins gehört. Sendung Lost In Music. Die haben das Ding richtig gelobt. Sind gestern hioerhergezogen und haben gesehen Du spielst. Mir fällt ein das gerade seit gestern das Album CD der Woche bei Radio ARA in Luxembourg ist. Something is happening and I don't know what it is.
Der Mittwoch. Tag sieben. Endlose Fahrt nach Leipzig in Begleitung des neuen Libertines Albums. Ziemlich gute Begleitung. Ich freu mich auf Markus, Endrick und die anderen Verrückten vom Unstrut Festival im Juli. Wir befinden uns in Leipzig Dölitz. Hab ich das richtig verstanden? Das hier war mal der Ortsteil mit der örtlichen Nervenheilanstalt? Passt. Die Shows fangen an zu laufen. Ich meine: ich muss nicht mehr nachdenken. Ich kann mehr reinlegen. Zwischendrin schreit wer: spiel Miracle Gyrlz! Wie bitte? Was denn? Wer kennt das denn noch? Die kleine Punkerin die sich 1995 in Hoyerswerda beim Gig in den Fahrer unserer Band verguckt hat. Eine halbe Nacht vergeht beim Update von dem was seither passiert ist. Wer gestorben ist. Wer lebt. Ich muss weiter. Ich bin etwas weniger erledigt als ich eigentlich befürchtet hatte. Dafür das wir mittlerweile Tag acht schreiben.
Berlin. Wieder. Wie oft war ich dieses Jahr schon hier? Ich befürchte zu oft. Versöhnlicher Abend. Mäkkelä leicht durchgerockt. Handvoll Freunde im Publikum. Stenzel, Tiefel, Clarky. Auto abstellen, paar Drinks in der Schönlein. Er zurück von Gigs in Brasilien, ich arbeite mich südwärts. Nicht ganz so weit. Ab morgen dann mit Isi Rößler am Bass.

Vormittag. Tag neun. Textnachricht von Isi. "Hei, ich war beim Doc. Hat mich sofort ins Krankenhaus überwiesen. Irgend 'ne tischtennisballgroße Schwellung. Lymphknoten oder so. Weisst doch noch, wie vor zwei Jahren auf der Tour. Ich muss Dir das alles absagen und ich hatte mich so drauf gefreut." Scheisse. Ich auch. Pass auf Dich auf. Erhol Dich. Wir brauchen gerade keine größeren Katastrophen.

Das alles macht die nächsten Tage nicht unbedingt einfacher. Nochmal vier Tage 100% oder mehr geben, fahren, ins Bett fallen und darauf hoffen das am Off-day in Colmar wenigstens ein bischen die Sonne scheint.
Das KunstKaufHaus in Hof erreiche ich nach satten fünf Stunden von Berlin aus. Regen. Stau. Es nervt. Alte Freunde dort, großartige Presse im Vorfeld und wie schon beim letzten Auftritt hier ausgesprochen hervorragende Betreuung von Alex. Geschlafen wie ein Stein, beim Aufstehen gemerkt das ich jetzt endlich auch meine traditionelle Tour-Erkältung habe undmittlerweile bereits die dritte Stunde am Rechner. Blog schreiben, Mails beantworten, versuchen in Italien noch 1-2 Shows zu kriegen. Es fühlt sich richtig an im Moment. Richtiger als vielleicht jemals zuvor.
Heute Abend im Zum Rösla in Burgkunstadt. Ab dann geht's endlich südwärts. Offenbach, Trier, Karlsruhe, Freiburg und die Schweiz.

Für das Roadtracks Magazin geschrieben, findest Du bis Dezember 2015 in diesem Blog Nachrichten, Wasserstandsmeldungen, Befindlichkeitsnachweise und vermutlich auch den einen oder anderen Link aus der etwas unkalkulierbaren "On Tour"-Parallelwelt von Mäkkelä's Tour zu seinem am 4. September veröffentlichten Album "Last Of A Dying Breed". Alle kommenden Konzerttermine auf maekkelae.com.




 

Single Of The Year-Tour 2013 - Part I

Woke up this morning after what I'd call the best sleep I had in a couple of days. Much needed indeed as the flu I managed to catch right in timefor the first tour gig decided to feel very comfortable in my body.

Now this is Berlin and it welcomed us in exactly the way I expected it to in mid-October. When driving into town it was pouring down, it was dark and double bass player Isi and me couldn't have been more knackered at the end of the third day on tour.
Still I got a feel it's been worth it. The first show in my favourite Hamburg place, the Nachthafen, turned out a real blinder. Looked empty first, filled up then to what I'd call a packed place and ended with a pretty punkrocky encore which rounded out an almost perfect gig. A lovely moment was when Justin of The Galantiers and his wife Gaby (did I get that right?) did a 30 min slot in the middle of the evening playing Galantiers songs on acoustic guitar and violin. Brillant! Didn't get to bed early that night...

Second day.

The always wonderful Prinz Willy in Kiel. Again a well attended evening with the usual, very attentive audience there. Very different to Hamburg. If Hamburg was Rock'n'Roll this one got closer to a traditional folk club feel. Really good show again and a nightcap with our host at the nearby Club 68. Good talks there and to bed fairly early this time. A surprise was the local press being around for the gig the first time ever. An interested young lady who never heard of a band called The Clash. I assume it's a sign of me being a bit older than her. But then again... how can someone not know.... well, she'll find out. Been down to the sea front for a cuppa the next day before leaving. Loved it.

Kiel. Baywatch.

Bassist looking at the sea.

Last bit of this tour: exploring Sweden, Tyrolen and Möllan

09/06

We're lucky again with the weather and as the drive is not really a very long one today we decide to stop here and there for a coffee. Conveniently the Swedish make it easy for foreigners to catch some nice sights without even having to leave the motorway. So we stop at Brahehus grab a cuppa and have a look at lake Vättern from top of the old castle there. Quite a view.Didn't buy polkagris though.

Tourist attractions on the way. Brahehus.

Fortunately we can leave the motorway after Jönköping just before the boring bit towards the south.

Close to Växjö.

Turning east onto smaller roads Smaland appears to be a beautiful sunny place. Lovely.

Even closer to Växjö.

And then it's Växjö. Kafe de Luxe. Sure one of the warmest receptions I had on this tour when arriving at a venue. Maybe it felt like that as it is the first time ever I'm playing a gig in Sweden. First thing they tell us: "Please feel like home here! Want a coffee? Piece of cake? Let us know when you want to have dinner!" What's wrong in here?

The day seems to be exceptionally sunny for this part of Sweden as they say and decisions are made to put up a stage out on the terrace. A small vocal pa is put up with speakers with embroidered (!) covers. Lovely.

Watching over Mäkkelä & van Velzen in Växjö.

As  this was in the first place booked as a Mäkkelä's Trash Lounge gig I'm playing the first set solo. For the second one later on Robin joins in and we're doing a Church Of The Blue Nun set. Turns out that half of the audience are the local musicians which can be a pain at times. Not in Växjö. In fact we're having a fantastic time with particularly Pelle, Mikael and Bobo. The latter entering stage after our last song - Roy Harper's "Another Day" - and plays an amazing dobro/slide version of "Hat's Off To Roy Harper". Brillant. Thanks guys for coming down that Sunday!

10/06

A short drive to Malmö today so we've got time for a little stroll around town. I remember a small recordshop I've discovered the day we arrived and by chance we meet Ulf, the owner, while having breakfast at the de Luxe. We walk those few meters down to his store and the place turns out to be what can be described as a memorial site of Scandinavian underground music. Apart from a huge vinyl selection Ulf shows us around the basement where the shop is located. He used to run a venue in the place and all the great Scandinavian bands played here over the early 90s. And I mean all of them. The Nomads, 22-Pistepirkko, Bob Hund...well you name it! This all in a basement venue, capacity of about 50, middle of picturesque Smaland, Sweden. How weird is this? Looking at the place one can almost feel the spirit of northern Rock'n'Roll... Besides he used to run a studio down here which is still set up but apparently not in use anymore as I understood this. Shame. A fantastic, full analogue, recording unit. If I get a chance to come here again I've got to convince him to do some recordings here. I bloody have to!
As a little souvenir I purchase a limited Bob Hund LP "Live In Ystad". Would have picked up an Ebba Grön too but there were none. Next time I'll be lucky. Before leaving we run into Nils the promoter who tells us he's putting up a psychedelic/prog rock festival ("Psykjunta") nearby the coming weekend. We decide to have a look at the festival site which he recommends as an interesting place worth seeing.
This place dear reader, named Tyrolen, is definitely one of the whackiest things the writer of these lines has seen in a while. An old countryside dance hall they put up I assume in the 60s.

Gateway to fairy land

Some theme park for lunatics. At least that's how it looks like. Trying to imagine hundreds of Swedish psychedelic music afficionados gathering here makes the whole thing even more bizarre. But have a look yourselves...

You might guess the purpose of this stage

Surrealistic icons of pop history

Ceiling fresco at Tyrolen...

Favourite Tyrolian pastime

Arriving in Malmö late afternoon. And no - I haven't got the faintest clue what to expect. The gig place is a bar named Cafe Simpan with an improvised vocal pa (which sounds surprisingly good) and we're curious about Rebecka, who got us this gig on pretty short notice. A friend of a friend who used to live here. She's a jazz singer (have to recommend her album here!) and turns out to be a wonderful person. She puts us up in her flat, there is even presents for Robin and me, and she shows us around the quarter named Möllan. To cut a long story short: this is just lovely. To say the least. Try to imagine a buzzing Berlin Kreutzberg or Neukölln plus a dash of Barcelona all condensed on a square mile with people being just unbelievably relaxed. A mixed, peaceful neighbourhood of immigrants and Swedes. Robin and me enjoying ourselves loitering about

11/06

Before leaving for Denmark for a last wind down gig at a party of my old friend Tina in Padborg, Rebecka takes us down to the Folkets Park and the west harbour for a coffee and we're having a look at Sweden's highest building.

Rebecka and Robin. Sunbathing.

We've been told about this by a very drunk, very excited young man on the ferry from Finland. I'm not sure if I fully agree to his words this being a very beautiful building. Well, it's revolving. That's something.

Very beautiful Swedish building. Revolving.

in a mild summer night this early June.  Not too many people turn up this Monday evening but the gig is a good one and a perfect official ending to this tour. Worth mentioning here is I have to say I'm kinda tempted to say I really love this country and it's people. Comes as a surprise as previous experiences had to do mostly with not very friendly Swedish customs and border police officers.

I think that's it. Thanks to all of you who put us up, fed us, bought drinks for us or been friendly in whatever way. Hope we'll meet again next year. The next longer tour stint will take me in opposite direction towards Czech Republic, Austria, Switzerland and Spain in autumn...

Recording in the woods, The Church Of The Blue Nun in HKI and a first glance of Sweden

Marko Haavisto & Johan Forslund after our recordings

01/06

Tiring trip back to Helsinki where my car is parked. Decision is drawn to no more tour with VR (Finnish Railways). From today on there are no smokers rooms on their trains. New policy. Rubbish policy. You guys lost a customer. Ok, I know that's why you did it.

03/06
Picking up Johan Forslund in Helsinki who will be the soundguy for the recordings at our Mökki I've been planning for a long time now. Setting up our gear early afternoon. I'm amazed about the sound and as Marko Haavisto arrives we succeed in recording an intense version of "Reason", here in the backwoods of southern Finland.  I was trying to keep my expectations low on this session. There was merely two options - either it's going to work very well or it's not going to work at all. Apparently we did something right this first Monday of June 2013.


05/06

Weather is even hotter today - 30°C out on the cottage porch just before noon - and I'm driving down to Helsinki again. This time picking up my Church Of The Blue Nun compadre Robin van Velzen at Vantaa airport for what is going to be the first and only Church Of The Blue Nun appearance in Finland this year. Another interesting debut as we never rehearsed with cello player Ulla-Riikka Kuisma in full band line up. Turns out there is no reason to be concerned. She plays an amazing gig at Liberte in Kallio. In fact the whole thing went down in a most pleasant way.
Sami Kukka (heard him first time - a fucking great singer/songwriter) opens the evening. We're on second with a set that turns right away in some weird thing with a life of it's own. The three of us being just players in a game controlled by an invisible hand, directing us like puppets in an irresistible groove of it's own. A big hand once more to Ulla-Riikka who's cello playing was simply stunning.
Mikael H. & The Siberians are on last and finally get the crowd dancing. Good gig of their's as well, in fact more powerful than last time I saw them when we played Semifinal toghether years ago. A perfect evening to end a Finnish tour and a good beginning for the shows Robin and me are about to play the next days.

We've got two more days to spend at the cottage, taping new ideas, sitting in the sun, doing a short visit to Lahti to get Robin at least some little sight seeing. Just the evening before leaving, Finland finally get's it's share of rain. A lot of rain. While sitting on the porch watching thunderstorms and an impressive lot of water pouring down, an old elk hound, scared of the thunder joins our little round and is apparently not willing to leave anywhere. In a way this accomplishes the scenery - three tired old dogs on a porch staring into the pouring summer rain.

08/06

Boat from Turku to Stockholm. We off for the land of Epa-Traktor and Nödraket. Staying the night in Nykobing and learn a lot. Saturday night apparently every adult male in this Swedish town get's a US vintage car out and cruises the blocks of this small town in Sweden. Don't know if you get this in it's entirety: I mean every third vehicle is NO 50s or 60s cruiser. Part of this obviously much favoured ritual is, there is one guy driving, the rest of the passengers do their best to get seriously plastered. Successfully I assume recalling our observations.

Nightingales & Pontikka & Nubians

26/05

Arriving in Rovaniemi 10.00 am. Blue sky, sunshine, get picked up by Mäxi the Nightingales' drummer and his girlfriend Kirsi. This town always feels a bit like coming home. Afternoon rehearsals with Jorma (the Nightingales piano player) and Mäxi. Later on a pleasant little gig at Paha Kurki bar on Koskikatu makes this an enjoyable tour day. Otto Mikkola of Oskari Heikkinen & Arktinen Voodoo is there and passes me their new album. Great stuff as I expected after having them supporting me last year at the Grande just around the corner from here.



27/05

Mäxi preparing for the recordings

Recording sessions done and went down really well. Instrumental tracks of two songs fixed and thus half of the upcoming 7" ep. A pleasure working with the guys and sound engineer Tuomas.

28/05

Last day in Lapland. Did some cooking for Kirsi, here lovely daughter Sanni and Mäxi. That was most welcome fun. Love cooking. Should do this regularly on tour. Or at least any time there are decent facitilities. Gone for some tapa variation. Albondigas, chicken in white wine garlic sauce and a white beans and  serrano salad. A sunny summer day rounded up in the evening meeting all the boys from back in the days. Greenhouse AC, Nightingales and even Tuomas of Saariston Lapset. Good to see they're all doing fine. Got the second big compliment on this tour from Sanni and had some top notch Pontikka on top.

29/05

Timely at Vastavirta, Tampere. Yläkerta, their upstairs cafe, is just like made for my accoustic solo gigs. Amazing place. Attentive audience. After soundcheck the venue people send me to sauna. Just a few minutes' walk down Pispalan Valtatie one can find one of Finland's oldest still running public saunas. A very special place and just the right thing to have after 9 hours on a train and a possibly bit too crazy night at the Arctic Circle. Janne Laurila whom I haven't seen in years turns up for my show, invites me to stay at his place and hands me the latest album of his new band Janne Laurila & Tuhlaajapojat. Another familiar face is Jukka another member of Saariston Lapset. Last met 15 years ago. I still wonder if there is anybody apart from some really weird electronic music nerds who knows this band and how someone could have been so mad to put out their record then. Another miracle about this whacky art-meets-electronic-dada-pop project is that they've done a full tour of Germany after the album release. Gig was lovely. Really lovely.

30/05

Endless waiting for soundcheck at Henry's Pub in Helsinki but once we're there it feels most comfortable on stage. Playing a good 50 min set and leave stage soaking wet. My suit I must admit get's after this 7th gig pretty close to a state that can only be described as disgusting. Anyway a good one. The gig i mean. Great to see the Blue In The Face guys and Johan in the audience. Vallu who is hosting these "Helatorstai" clubs is like always brillantly compèring the evening. This hot summer evening's second band is Kap Kap from apparently Helsinki who are playing an eclectic blend of psychedelic indie rock, Bowie and Shellac. Good band. Later on we find out their guitarist and me met before. Some years ago after playing a Midnight Sun Filmfestival sideshow with Desert Planet we apparently had a chat on the river bank in Sodankylä at the traditional end of festival hang out.
Interesting news: Kimmo of Blue In The Face tells me they're going to play some German shows with Fucking World. The latter a punkrock legend from Finland with my old tour acquaintance Näkä Närhi on guitar.

31/05

Last day of May 2013 I find myself with two instrument cases and two way too heavy bags on the train to Kuopio. Last solo gig on this tour supporting Faarao Pirttikangas & Kuhmalahden Nubialaiset at Henry's Pub in Kuopio. Get there way too early and too knackered to have a look around town. Particularly because of all the rubbish I'm dragging across Finland.

Not light enough to travel. Not really.

Instead decide to smoke all of my accidentally bought menthol cigarettes and update my tourblog. Failed with the latter.      
The gig turns out to be the most satisfying one on this tour. A good crowd has turned up to see their hometeam Faarao Pirttikangas playing and is surprisingly really listening to what I'm doing. In fact they seem to be really into it. None is leaving, nobody chatting. Sound is fantastic and the playing goes down perfectly well this time. Hot again. Again wet suit. Respectful words and backslapping from the Faarao Pirttikangas guys makes this a perfect last one. Encouraging after a little down this afternoon. The odd tour crisis caught up with me on the way here.

Right after gig. Good there are are no odo-rama pics.

A word about Faarao Pirttikangas. It's a long time since I last heard some band like this perform. I don't think I'm exaggerating saying this is the most inspiring and definitely outstanding band from Finland. Absolutely unique in their way. Fingers crossed the wave of success they're currently riding carries on.

Faarao Pirttikangas right before gig

It's a long one this Friday night in Kuopio. Long talks with the Faarao guys (namely their bassist, their singer Pekka and their trombone player Pertti), run into Tomi Kosonen and Paul Staufenbiel of Aavikko and end the evening in the wee hours on Pekka's balcony, smoking a last ziggy and sipping red wine from coffee mugs round six in the morning. No less than a magic evening here in eastern Finland.
Footnote: before leaving I manage to get me a Kalakukko (no link here - ask Wikipedia or something) on the market square. The real thing.

A Southafrican bar in Lahti

24/05

Here we are. Back in Lahti at the Amazulu Bar. I assume the only Southafrican Kroeg in Finland. It's Friday night, a vague idea of summer in the air and the inevitable vintage cruisers are rolling down Vapauden Katu. Pillu ralli hour.
A good crowd throughout the whole gig and the longest gig so far on this tour. Playing three sets this evening. Just before the last one accidentally spilling my beer over the power plugs thus killing the pa. The last one works out unplugged possibly even better. A fantastic audience. Really love this place. Thanks Floris. Will come back.

Setlist Lahti

Volcano God
Silver
Saints
The Great Escape
Reason
Queen Of Switzerland
September Gurls
Miss Hertforshire

Icecubes
Penguins Of Notting Hill Gate
Evelyn Says
Good Friday
Highway Song
Crisis
All The Lights In This House
Kahden Viikon Mies
Diane

Floozy With An Uzi
Chelsea Embankment
Coma Girl
Lonesome Town


25/05

Day starts with bad news. Janne calls to tell me he has to cancel all the gigs we were supposed to play together. He's been to the doctor's and they booked him right away for a surgery next Tuesday. Not the nicest surprise (good news now that I'm writing this: all went well and he just needs two weeks rest for recovery). Means: complete change of plans. Means a lot of calls, e-mails whatsoever to let the venues/promoters know, find a way to to get there as Janne won't be driving as planned. This is getting adventurous. Not sure if i really enjoy this but it's as it is.
Off to Tampere for a rehearsal with Ulla-Riikka Kuisma who will be our Finnish cello player with Church Of The Blue Nun 5 June at Liberté in Helsinki.Turns out a good rehearsal and we later go for a little Tampere sightseeing and dinner. Besides the weather is just getting better and better. Summer apparently is really going at it. Doing again what I promised myself to avoid after the last time - get on the night train to Rovaniemi. Something like 8 hours staring at trees. Occasionally swamps. A lifechanging experience to say the least.

3:16, Sunday morning near Lapua