Thursday, July 06, 2006

Did You Dudes Kill All The Butter Chicken?

Occasionally someone understands my plight.

i know it's probably kind of impossible to be cheered up at this point, i
know there reaches a point on tour where any optimism you had on reserve is
now gone and the situation you're in is just stale and repetitive and won't
go away.

That is my exact sentiment this afternoon. I am sitting in a dressing room at the Quart festival in Kirstinsand, Norway. It is raining off and on, roasting hot, humid and muddy. Today is our last day on the rolling tube of death known as the tour bus, which means that everyone had to gather up their belongings in the rain and drag suitcases around for most of the morning. I suppose that after tonight it is smooth sailing, and that things could always be worse.

No more sleepless nights in the mini-strip club that is the lounge of our euro-bus...

Sure thing...

A few more days with Pete. He takes shit from no one, and fears neither man nor beast.

There is, however, no food for miles out here. The rider consisted of a case of beer and four cans of tuna. I shit you not.

I just had a few days in Malmo, which were some of the nicest of this tour. Death Cab played the Accelerator festival, which is usually pretty great. This year the bands weren't so hot and attendance was poor. Jenny Lewis and the Watson twins were pretty hot though. I'd sort of missed the boat on their record, I know lots of people like it. The show was pretty refreshing. Country-esque, some a-capella, some pretty amazing sequined green dresses...

The festival was on the same park/carnival site that it has been on for years. They have a ferris wheel, a petting zoo with some guinea pigs and a relatively unattended kangaroo.

On the way there I took this picture. Stay with me. On the surface it's a self portrait with Death Cab for Cutie in repose, but on closer inspection it is not the first time that Michael Bolton and a cock have been in close proximity. God, I'm such a bastard sometimes.

I had a great day off in Malmo the following day. The weather was again amazing. I 'rented' (and by rented I mean was given without question) a bicycle and tore around the city. Here's my hog.

I ran into a few of our crew in the only place where people who have had enough of Europe can go other than the consulate. That's right, Burger King.

We carried on en masse

I settled in to a good Indian returned and watched some of the world cup. It was battle of the fascists night, Germany Vs Italy. This is the sky around 10:30pm. It was amazing, but I was sleeping 4 hours a night.

After spending a few days in Malmo and a day in Gotenborg, I tend to agree that the Swedes really are genetically superior in some sense (sort of. by agree that means agree with hitler, so...sort of), they are tall, slender yet muscular, blonde, quite attractive, intelligent, efficient, peaceful and creative. The drawbacks, other than the alarmingly high suicide rate, brutal winters, and lack of any sort of ethnic minority is the homogeneous culture of Ikea and H&M. Everyone literally wears the same clothing, and furnishes their house in the same way. Even the restaurants have Ikea furniture. I did, I'll admit, go to H&M to buy some socks and underwear because there is no sign of me doing laundry on the horizon. Now, I can respect the general openness of European, and particularly Swedish culture. I was in a department store the other day that had communal, unisex fitting rooms and everyone walked around in varying states of undress. Fine. In H&M I was down to my skivvies when I looked up to see someone crawling through the ceiling. Some sort of construction work was urgent enough to not allow me to be wearing pants before it commenced. I gave the guy the finger, shouted at him, took his picture and then tried to knock him off of the ladder that he was standing on....maybe I just don't fully grasp the culture.

Today the backstage area is right on the water, and in previous years bands have been known to fish or even swim in spite of the leaches, but this year it is rainy and we are overrun with some of the brownest swans that I have ever seen.

I reminds me of the zoo, and a certain someone's bird-hating tendencies.

Tomorrow I am off to Dublin for the Oxygen festival. I think The Who might be playing. I think I may sit that one out.