Day one
Thursday August 11
The second European tour starts today for me at sometime just before 5am as I’m up and then out to catch the first train from Clara to Dublin. 5:35am. First it’s a Dublin flight to Hamburg. There’s no taking in of the familiar Hamburg sights as it’s bus from the airport to the bus station. And from there a bus to Berlin where Maja will be waiting, having arrived sometime late afternoon. While the last tour eventually only took in Berlin and Hamburg, after we had to retreat, first due to Covid, then the war in the east, this time we really do think we’ll get to at least a few countries. However, in that last one, we at least managed to also stay in two places in Sweden before playing a show aboard a ferry between France and Ireland. So technically still a European tour, right?
This time round we’ve decided to give camping a go as it could be a cheaper alternative to hostels and hotels, and may well be a fun addition to the experience. Here I should probably mention the conclusion of our last stay here. We’d been hoping to have some sort of accommodation sorted out with Lenny, the manager of Fargo who said he’d be happy to look after us should we ever return to Berlin. Well, here we are, but the timing just hasn’t worked out. When we got in touch with him to say we would be on our way in a week or so, he came back to say that he was away this week and beyond, so we had to make our own arrangements. And here we are.
I land in Charlottenburg, Berlin at 5:30pm, having left the house almost exactly 12 hours earlier. Now to go and find, not just Maja, but also her friend Adrian who is travelling around Europe and has planned it so that he’s able to connect with us in Berlin. They’re at a camp site somewhere in the outer west district of the city, not too far from where I am now. I won’t pretend it’s easy to find the place. It really isn’t, and I’m not helped by the glorious clear blue sky and bright sun, which would normally be wonderful and welcome, but which mean today that I’m often totally unable to see my phone screen, and so am often not able to read my map screen. Which means I have a really healthy and bracing walk in the wrong direction so many times. When I finally get within hearing distance of them – literally – I discover I’ve come to a river with the nearest crossing about three or four hundred metres away, which means three or four hundred metres all the way back on the other side. Then I still have to negotiate a complicated industrial type complex, all the while somehow trying to communicate to Maja exactly where I am so that she can come and meet me. We finally make it, and this weary traveller wanders into camp. Seriously, if I’d discovered one more wrong turn I would have been thinking, screw the correct entrance, and I would have been starting to climb fences.
After Maja, it’s an emotional reunion with Adrian, whose Malmo apartment we stayed in during the hiatus of our first European tour back in December, when returning Covid restrictions all over Europe forced us to retreat to Sweden.
Oh wow, this is the welcome beers of all welcome beers as Maja has led me to the wonderful outdoor bar of the campsite, which also, very mercifully, does food. All my road dust is shaken off and the three of us now totally relax and catch up by the river which was so clearly mocking me in that last exhausted leg of my journey. As the bar closes, we finish up and Adrian leaves us for his hotel. We will be seeing him again tomorrow. In the meantime, we’re off to our first night of camping. Let’s see how this goes.
Day two
Friday August 12
First thing in the morning, Maja books us into a hostel. Nope. Not staying here. No how, no way. For a start, we’ve discovered there are just so many hidden charges. It’s advertised as a really good, cheap alternative and the prices do look very attractive. Until you get here and reality kicks in. Even a charge for parking. It’s a campsite. Way outside the main city. With caravans and large tents. Of course you’re driving. The charges mount up so much that by the time they’re all added up, you can get a lovely warm bed in at least a hostel, with probably a bathroom and toilet across the hall, hell, in your room if you’re lucky. And there won’t be sand all over the place. Oh yes. The sand. When you think of camping, you think of being in a wonderful field or meadow. Here, they’ve just plonked us in what looks more like a carpark. Oh damn, I can’t imagine what it would be like if it was raining and all that sand and dirt around us just turned to mud. No. Just no. And, kind of by definition, it’s really far away from anywhere we can play gigs in. Driving to the city everyday with all our gear then just having it with us until it was time to drive back here? No thankyou very much. The idea of making it camping was all good and noble, and may well be somewhere else in the future. But here? Absolutely no way. Maja gets on it and finds Isas Hostel on the corner of Templehofer field, just south of the main city.
We’re shown to a no frills but perfectly large and comfortable six bed-room. Three bunk beds. And the luxury of our own fridge, or at least a fridge to share with potential room mates as we’re the only ones here right now. The hostel we’ve found is as cheap and cheerful a place as you could imagine. Cheap at the price and totally cheap looking, but also totally good enough for our kind of stay with better showers than we’ve encountered at some much more expensive places; a shower can be a dealbreaker for me, so I’ll always take a good shower over nice furniture and pretty carpets thankyou very much. We have zero complaints and the staff are wonderfully friendly and helpful. A special shoutout to the cleaner, Fatma. It’s in a really cool and busy district, so everything you could want for easy shopping and eating, and very well connected for public transport. And all for about the same price as that ridiculously overpriced and horrendous campsite we’ve just left.
I’ll let you know now. We’re here for six days and, with just a few overnight companions – all of whom prove to be lovely, some of whom we don’t even see awake – we mostly feel like we have the place to ourselves. Which, as things work out, is just as well.
Out in the evening to meet up with Adrian who’s going to accompany us on our hustle tonight. Oh, Berlin, Berlin. Here we come.
We know exactly where we’re going. We’re heading directly and deeply into Neukolln. This is an area we’d earmarked as a happy hunting ground before our first visit here and so it proved to be. Almost. Back then, in late December 2020, Covid restrictions were beginning again, but we were also discovering that Berlin practically closed in the runup to Christmas. So we pitched to a lot of managers who loved what we were offering, but said the time wasn’t, but please come back if and when you’re in town again. That’s exactly what we’re doing now, but it’s one of those nights when there are no managers around and all our pitches continually fall on unable ears. Yeah. They all just fall. Instead of the friendly, semi familiar faces we were expecting to be greeted with, all we can find are young, left in charge bar staff who have never seen us before and, in any case, can’t authorise what we’re here to do. I can sense Adrian’s frustration, and perhaps, embarrassment for us when, after another knockback, he asks what our strike rate is. I keep my mood upbeat as I tell him it can be one in four, or one in five. But really, if the boss isn’t in when you show up, and no-one there feels they can make a decision like this, there’s nothing you can do, no matter how good your act or your pitch for it. Very occasionally, a supervisor may take it upon themselves to say yes, but once someone says the boss isn’t here so theyI don’t know, there’s absolutely nothing you can do to make it happen there and then.
We’re Six bars in now and we also spent quite a bit of time walking to this area. We’re carrying a speaker, the guitar and our bag of accessories. It’s not a huge amount, but try a long walk with this lot and after a while you really do start to feel it. We’ve been walking for a while. We decide now that for any future hustles, we’re going to identify the target area and just get public transport there. Walking to an area with our gear is just wasted energy. We actually carried more stuff on our gigs last time, but we weren’t doing the now hustle then. Instead, we walked round unhindered to hustle gigs for some later date, then when we returned to a venue who’d taken us, all our stuff was on trollies, so the walking wasn’t as hard as it’s proving now.
Once more, Adrian waits outside while we enter a bar called Palermo. There’s a whole bunch of people sitting outside, and two or three people inside what is a single square space of a bar. Perfect for gigging. I ask the guy polishing glasses if he’s the manager. He is. I give my pitch, and he says, ‘Of course.’ That’s how it goes. When it’s hard, it’s hard. Then you come across a person like this, it suddenly becomes the easiest job in the world and you wonder what all the fuss was about. I run outside and tell a clearly relieved Adrian, ‘We’re in.’ I think, more than anything, he’s relieved for us, that we’ve finally been able to show him that we can come through. That this thing can be done. Now to actually do it.
This will be our first ever wireless gig and we set the speaker up by the large, fully open window, meaning it will also be heard out on the street. There’s some gentle expectation as we count off our first song, and we’re off. The tour is on. First date, Bar Palermo, Nansenstraße 31. Time, 9pm.
As soon as we start, the people are with us and Tomas, the manager, is looking upon us very approvingly as he rocks along. Now Maja does something she’s never done before. She goes outside and starts working the tables on the street. As she does so, I stay inside and dominate the bar, playing from the very centre of the floor to the very few people who are in here and who are really getting into it now. A little while on and we swap places with Maja coming inside as I go outside and start to rock the songs up and down the little strip of street of tables. Then we’re both outside, but again, in different places as Maja plays for that table, I play for this one, then we come together in the middle, then we’re up and down together, then separating again to spread ourselves all over. One in, one out, and change it round again. It’s a total, in the round, fully interactive show. The people love it and Adrian is just mesmerised, delighted at what we’ve become right before his eyes. The performance is one thing, but we can see that the songs themselves are really hitting too. And afterwards, after we’ve also satisfied the punters with the demanded encore, the hat does its thing and agrees that we have in fact been loved in here tonight. After such a faltering start, it is a totally triumphant return to Berlin, but witnessed by just a handful of people. But that’s what now hustling bar gigs is all about. Just a few people at a time, a few times a night. And add up those numbers.
However, it’s already been a trek to get here, we’re all a bit tired, Adrian’s been dragged round long enough. He’s seen how it’s done now, seen us in in action, the action has been fantastically successful and we agree we should take this as a result. We call it a day for hustling. It just so happens we’ve walked pretty much all the way through Neukolln and now find ourselves not too far away from Fargo. Perfect. Where else would we want to go right now?
Day three
Saturday August 13
We’re really slow to be up and in any kind of ready today. But as we do, Maja declares she’s still really run down and tired and just not up for hustling. That’s absolutely fine and totally understandable. We just meet up with Adrian when we’re ready to go out later on, and it’s just a wonderful Berlin hang.
Day four
Sunday August 14
Maja’s really tired again, so once again we call off the hustle. But Sunday Slip at one of our favourite Berlin venues, Zum Krokodil, is on tonight so we can at least manage that. This is a really cool little twist on the open mic format. Hosts Wynton and Liliana give it much more of an event feel with Liliana performing her wonderful stand-up and Wynton doing his freeform jazz/looper thing. Both remember us from last time and we’re enthusiastically welcomed when we arrive.
Their thing is all presented as a kind of ad hoc cabaret show, complete with theme music for the two halves, and just really slick stage organisation and full introductions to each act. Most of which are stand-up comedy performers. Musicians, poets, and anyone else with something to show off on a stage are also welcome so we fit right in here. And we have a little twist on our own act tonight. We’ve finally decided the time has come to do our random show, which is to write our songs down on a piece of paper and put them in a glass for audience members to pick out to decide which songs we’re going to play. Well, we say audience members, but we end up presenting the glass to Wynton everytime, but that’s all fine. It still turns out to be as random as it could possibly be. The first song picked out is Freefall, something I don’t think we would ever have thought of to introduce ourselves to an open mic as it start so gently, but really, why not? And isn’t this the point of the random glass? It really does force us into situations we wouldn’t have chosen ourselves, and also makes us see how the songs can perform in circumstances we wouldn’t necessarily think of for them. We’re wireless now, and we begin our performance taking full advantage of that fact. To the side of the stage is a corridor running up the side of the venue. So you can go down that and emerge at the back of the audience. I do that now and we start with Maja on stage on her own and me behind everyone. I hit the first chord and Maja begins to sing. The audience is transfixed immediately, but also confused, as people start to look around, and then seem to conclude that she’s singing to a backing track. But as the song develops, I make my way through the tables and see the surprised expressions on people’s faces of, ‘Oh, this is what’s going on.’ I time it so that I climb up onto the stage right as the chorus kicks in, and this gets our first vocal reaction of the night from the audience. We’re on. After Freefall, Wynton pulls out Nobody Said. This is a particular surprise to us because we haven’t played it for ages, and damn it’s a heavy song. Then we’re stunned when he picks out our actual heaviest song to follow it up with: My Game, My Rules. This is a big ask, but it means we perform a three song set going from our lightest to our heaviest side. And if last night rocked, tonight smashes. Adrian now sees what we can do to a crowd that is actually already up for and expecting original music, as well as what we can do when we have a full venue and a big stage to have a run at. He’s left reeling at the experience, and if the other night gave him a taster of what we’re all about, after tonight, he totally, fully gets it.
Here’s the full thing
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooka97gxLTA&t=2s
Day five
Monday August 15
Last night was great, but it’s beginning to look like Berlin really isn’t going to happen for us this time. Maja is just totally run down and probably sick. We’re barely even leaving our room at this stage.
Day six
Tuesday August 16
We resign ourselves to the fact that nothing musical is happening for us today either. But with this now being our last two days in Berlin, there is one little thing we can and must do, and that is to go and have a look at Templehofer Field. We can’t not go and have a look at Templehofer Field. This is a huge airfield which is now a public park, bigger in area than Hampstead Heath. But unlike Hampstead Heath, one of my favourite places in London, you can take this field in all in one go. It’s just one enormous, flat space and also a major piece of history. For a start, this was the airfield used during the Berlin blockade during 1948/49 when a plane landed every 90 seconds bringing supplies for a Berlin essentially under siege. Having been closed as an airport and then, in 2010 opened as a public space, it is now the largest inner city open space in the world. And oh, it looks like it. An enormous expanse unlike any I’ve ever seen, and it feels surreal to walk through it on an actual runway. In what is actually an open air museum complete with the kinds of historical story boards found in museums. We spend an hour or so in the wonderful sun having a gentle wander around the place. Then, happy that we have now managed to see this attraction right on our doorstep, we head back to the hostel.
Day seven
Wednesday August 17
Maja’s feeling much better today and, for the first time feels like going out and doing stuff. This will be our last day in Berlin as we plan to leave for The Hague tomorrow, then possibly Anwerp after that.
There’s going to be no hustle tonight though. Today’s the day of the open mic at Laksmi and this has been top of our return list since arriving. Our experience there during our last Berlin visit remains one of our favourite ever performances and nights. The place went mad for us that night and then, as the event ended, the evening just went on and on and we felt pretty much the centre of it. So yes, we have particularly high hopes for tonight. But before we take that on, we want to have at least one real look at Berlin in the summer, having experienced it a bit in the winter. We’re going to make a return to the Brandenburg Gate and Checkpoint Charlie. A very different feeling walking up to and through these places in the summer, wearing T-shirts rather than full on winter clothing. But we did well in December and never really felt uncomfortable walking around. It is really hot today and Maja says it possibly felt better in the winter. That’s the Swedish northern-ness in her. I’ll take summer anytime. But yes, like everywhere really, there is a very real contrast. The most expressive change, I guess, is that this time the outdoor bars are open, including an artificial beach type bar near Checkpoint Charlie. A large courtyard type place surrounded by bars and foodstalls. Of course we go in and take a beer or two in the sun.
After a lovely summer daytrip, we return to the hostel for a little bit of a rehearsal, then take ourselves out to Laksmi. We’ve really been excited about our return here as it generated in us a kind of instant nostalgia. So it’s very special to walk back here again, to the so called Red Bar. The last time we were here, we were told by host Moves Johnson, that it was the best bar in Berlin. It may well actually be. It manages to be both intimate and large at the same time, with a mid sized bar area at the front, supplemented by something of an offshoot area to the left as you walk in. There’s a raised seating area down the opposite wall to the bar, then at the back, the place extends to a whole other area of seating, almost separate from the venue, but still with sight and sound access. And for open mics, while Zum Krokodil has the large stage and great sound, this place has wonderful intimacy. Both places have audiences eager to hear something new, but Laksmi just takes it for atmosphere as far as we’re concerned, probably because of its smaller size which makes an audience feel that much bigger. It’s also totally unplugged, which could be a handicap, but like Krokodil, the people in here really do and the sound effortlessly carries all the way to the back, which is where we end up sitting because the place is already packed by the time we arrive.
As soon as we do, we see Moves. We have a wonderfully high energy catchup. We’ve been chatting with him online a little while we’ve been here, and we’ve been seeing his little flyers all over town. We even sent him a picture of us standing in front of one on our first night here. He’s only too happy to enthusiastically introduce to the host David, and offer his solid endorsement. David’s very interested to meet us as he’s already heard of and is aware of us. Moves says he still talks about us since our first show here, and it seems other people around know of The Diaries. Going forwards a little bit, there is certainly some air of anticipation when the time comes for us to be called to the stage. As for what happens when we get there, we’ll jump around a touch more here. Our plan was to ask Moves if he wanted to hear I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) again, or if he would like to hear more songs. Within a few minutes of chatting, he totally pre-empts us with, ‘I really hope you guys play I Like You (Better When You’re Naked). Whenever I tell people about you, I talk about that song.’ This is how we find out we’re still being talked about in this significant corner of Europe, and how we settle the question about whether we should play it tonight or not.
We would like to stay at the front and hang out with the guys, but there really is no room, so we head to the back area and find the last two seats together out there. We’re settled and ready for the show.
We get called up five or six acts in. This venue really, is where we first developed our act of just playing in and around an audience rather than on a stage. It was the unplugged nature of it that led us to the thought of just moving around and playing everywhere. Also, with Maja not confident of singing too loudly at the time, this moving around allowed the guitar to be further away from her and so she was able to be heard without having to sing too loud. Since then, and now especially with our new wireless gear, we’ve really developed into this as being a thing and a whole way of performing as far as we’re concerned. Now we totally break it out here, with Maja going up to the stage and me hanging a little back so that I’m more in the centre of the crowd, in the walkway between the bar and the raised seating area.
Maja’s standing, imperious, looking over the heads of everyone. And I’m down on the floor and the air is silent. It feels like there are only the two of us as I look up and say, ‘Are you ready?’ ‘Yes.’ I count it in and we’re off. And the atmosphere in the bar lifts, and keeps lifting as the song builds, and falls, and builds again. Along the way, people look as though they’re on a rollercoaster ride as they at times seem to be almost pushed backwards and then forwards and then side to side as they propel themselves along to our own pulsating energy. And it’s hot in here. Seriously hot. We’ve been sweating just watching the thing. Now sweat is almost flying off of us, adding to the steaming drama of the moment with Maja leaving the stage and stamping her authority all over the place. The whole time I’m powering along behind her, all animal, soaking wet energy. All the way to the climax and the place goes totally wild as we finish. Before they’ve even quietened down, we’re on it again with the percussive intro to Six Sense Lover. Oh, they’re with us now, as if they ever weren’t. This is our room, this is our crowd. When we hit the thunderous final act of the song, the whole place looks like they’ve just been tipped over the edge of the top of the rollercoaster and we see them, all but waving their hands in the air as it powers down, G force increasing all the way. And we’re in the middle of it, making it all happen. Scream for me. Scream. Screaeaeam. Final, explosive hits on the guitar to conclude our final show for this visit to Berlin.
And yes, they most definitely do.
After that, well, it feels like we’re the only people in the room. We receive the congratulations of the bar staff as we’re awarded our free beers for performing, and we take them outside. Because, after a performance like that, in this heat, an ice cold beer outside is simply the only thing that will do.
When we return, just like last time, we feel like the centre of attention for the rest of the night. That night goes on for quite a long time. By the time it’s all over and we’ve said our goodbyes, being demanded, and promising to return, we don’t get back to our hostel until sometime approaching 4am. And we’re up kind of earlyish in the morning. First, we’ve got to make the check-out time of 11, then we’re off for a seven or eight hour drive for European tour leg two. We’re off The Hague in Holland.
Day seven
Thursday August 18
For the next two nights as we tackle The Hague, we’re staying with a friend to whom I’ll give Diary privacy. The approach to this coastal city is spectacular as you drive straight at the tall buildings, speed quickly through them without breaking stride, then down in a tunnel and on your way to your destination. Brilliantly effective, a fantastic virtual welcome, and as different as it could possibly be from driving through gridlock in London. Which is why that city has the M25 and the North and South Circulars. Don’t ever try to drive through central London on your way to somewhere else.
When we talk about our plans of the now hustle and the hat, we’re immediately told one thing. Forget it. It won’t happen here. No-one can get gigs here just like that, and even if they do, no-one will even consider putting into the hat. It’s basically a full on attempt to talk us out of it. Well meaning, and very much what we heard – quite aggressively at times – when we first spoke about trying this in Ireland. Politely – kinda – I shut it down. Thankyou, but we’re doing this – this may come out a little sterner and full-stoppy than I intend. We’ll get gigs or we won’t. People will put in or they won’t. Simple. With that the conversation ends.
Day eight
Friday August 19
Maybe also get a bit more feel of the city in after watching this as a reminder
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C4CZtSILLuE
Shall we go straight to it? Shall we? After all the warnings and doom, and no-one I know could do anything like this, so don’t even try?
Oh alright, we will.
Our easiest and most successful ever hustle, and the most the hat has pulled in in a day. And we called that day at 8pm after having played four times. Yep. We’d played four times, money each time, by 8pm. Two bars asked and three bars played. We’ll get to that. As for the fourth one, we’ll get to that too. By nine we were back with our friend in a bar and yeah, we were quite vocal about what we’d done. In all fairness, he held his hands up and admitted he was wrong. In another all fairness, I’ll venture to say that he wasn’t actually wrong. It couldn’t be done. By anyone he knew. But we could do it. Either that or his friends hadn’t tried hard enough.
By four in the afternoon we think it’s time to get out and get this thing started. Into the city, it’s a wonderfully sunny day and we’re walking through the spectacular main plaza. Maja sees a couple of girls coming towards us pushing a trolley full of boxes of beer bottles. She’s on it as soon as our paths intersect. ‘Hi girls, where are you going?’ They could have been taking this lot to a bar, but no, they’re off to a party which they’re clearly taking responsibility for. Maja gives them cards, introduces us, saying we’ve just arrived here from Berlin on our European tours, and offers to come with them saying says we could play for them and their guests. I hang back and leave the three of them to be girls talking among girls. It’s a fun watch. Who knows where an afternoon and evening like this could lead? If they say yes. For the girls, and for us, this is a bit of a sliding door moment. They do seem to give it some consideration. They talk to each other, saying what, we have no idea, and they’re clearly taken by Maja. They’re intrigued and part of them seems to want to say yes, but probably, understandably, they don’t want to take responsibility for bringing strangers into the midst of their friends, who are then going to play who knows what, and it doesn’t quite work. No. They are not ready to make that kind of commitment for two people they just met on the street. It’s with some considerable good nature that they say thankyou, but no. Maja’s done her best and decides it’s best not to push. Lovely to meet you girls. Have a great party and we may see you around.
After this fun and very close encounter, we set ourselves up with an early evening dinner at a cheap and cheerful enough Chinese restaurant. Nothing fancy at all, felt more like a cafe. We leave and find ourselves back on the street quite full and thinking it could be a good idea to walk around just a little, and not try to play straight away. So we’re not hustling right now. Not quite yet. We are definitely not hustling. We start to make our way down the street, but we’re spotted immediately by people sitting outside a bar directly opposite the restaurant/cafe we’ve just emerged from. They see our guitar and beckon us, playing air guitar to indicate their interest. Come, come. Oh, OK then. We go and they enthusiastically gesture that we should go inside. The windows here are wide open, so they will hear anything that happens in there. We go inside. It’s quite busy, but the place just starts to open up before us and a clear path opens up between us and the bar. You play, you play. Variations on this are being heard all around as smiling faces and expressive hands indicate us to the bar manager right at the back, who as yet still seems oblivious to what is happening. By the time we reach him he’s turned to face us and the clamour from his bar that we play. Poor guy. He doesn’t stand a chance. The decision has very much been made for him. As for me, I barely begin my pitch when he puffs out his cheeks in friendliness and says, ‘Of course.’ What else? He indicates us to a spot by the wall, but very central and says, ‘Please.’ Brilliant. First bar, first show. We definitely did not hustle. But we do now as we go round the bar giving cards and beermats and generally introducing ourselves.
And yes, they really go for it. All originals, all in English, and we’ve got the people in here bouncing, stamping their feet, clapping along, at times trying to sing. Then when it’s all over after five songs, the hat puts in a solid shift, and we get pulled this way and that to pose in photographs. And the manager comes over to smile, say well done, put some money in the hat, and then give us some advice that we really should also try to add a few covers so that, you know, people can hear a song or two that they know. We smile and say thanks for the advice. Has he not just seen what we’ve done without covers thankyou very much? Well, he put in, so he does have some idea. I think in some corners of thinking, even when we appear to have entered those very corners of thinking, this thing we do still doesn’t quite compute. But you have to do covers. No-one walks into a bar they’ve never been to – and in a new country at that – and belts out a bunch of their own songs and makes money. No-one. Maybe he’s right. Maybe they don’t. But we do. It all happened so quickly we didn’t even get the name of the place. We do now. De Waag.
It’s 6pm and we’re already down one very near missed party and one show. By 6:30, we’re starting another show in Caseys, a large Irish bar. If you don’t count the girls, this is two gigs in two hustles, and really that last one doesn’t even count as a hustle. It’s more us that were hustled there. We’ve actually come here at the recommendation of those girls and the place really does stand out. Once inside, we spoke to the bar supervisor, who told us that Joseph, who organised the music, was around and available. Joseph came, and as soon as we did our pitch, said, ‘Set up wherever you want and go for it.’ This place is much longer than it is wide, so we set up our speaker by the bar, which runs about halfway along it, with a step down to the back level. Opposite the bar is an open wooden flight of steps up to a currently closed extra bar, and from where Joseph came to say hello. He has business to see to, so unfortunately he’s not able to stick around and see how we get on.
Which is essentially very well, if quite hard work and a little lonely at times. The place really is enormous, with the few customers in here right now spread all the way left and right, and very few people in the middle. We really work the whole area, but we feel spread too thin ourselves this way, but a big impression is still made. Not least when we ascend the staircase and perform, looking far down on everyone, and see that at least a good amount of people in here are looking up. It’s a strange, very disjointed show, purely because of how much space we feel we have to cover to connect with everyone. But while you’re connecting with that table over there, you’re far away from that bunch of tables all the way over there and so on. And when I go to one area and Maja’s all the way over the other area, it’s an impressing dynamic I’m sure, while making it quite hard to be dynamic.
But the hat tells us that people are at least on our side, even as we decided to cut it short after three songs, feeling the room slowly slip away from us after such a strong start, and fearing we could lose it altogether with a fourth song. However, even now, a few people voice disappointment that we’ve finished so soon. And when I go to the raised seating section just by the front door, I’m met very positively both financially and personally and am assured by a few people there that they will help put the word out on us. That really, is everything a tour is about. Getting your own word out there and hoping the people you play for will take it up and put more of it out themselves.
As we walk away from this venue, having played five songs at the first place and three just now, we conclude that, with this kind of hustle, four songs is optimum. Go in with a target of four, pull out at three if it really isn’t working, or is showing signs of maybe testing limits as we felt just now. And then, if shouts come for more, chuck in a fifth. With that, we feel we’ve just consolidated and confirmed exactly how we should be doing this.
Now we hit the backstreets with no destination in mind, until we’re gestured, De Waag like, into a place called Bar T’Achterom. Again, it’s the people sitting outside who see us and beckon us over. The bar manager, Dave, sees this and as soon as we go over to him, indicates that yes, we should play if we want to, as he also indicates there aren’t many people in here. Indeed there aren’t. This is one of those places that looks like a bar/small nightclub. The kind of speckled black floor area, and stage like area at the back which we will not be using. Instead, we’ll set up here at the front where there is one table of people inside near the fully open window, and a few tables of people outside. All seem eager and encouraging, and Dave himself, before hearing a note, offers us a beer. We’re very happy to accept as we set up and get this thing going. And it may well be the smallest and most intimate of places we’ve played today, but it’s our biggest reception and we do indeed get to play that fifth song. And even a sixth as they really do want to hear more and more. Two encores. But we’re not done here yet. As I’m finishing up the hat outside, a few people arrive at the place. They’ve heard something as they were coming down the street and now they’re hearing enthusiastic reports about what we’ve just done here, out of nothing. The lead guy of the new group would like us to continue, but we really are finished. It wouldn’t be right to fire up again. But he has more to say. ‘I will give you 20 euro,’ he says, ‘If you would come out onto the street and play a song for my wife.’ You cannot turn that down, and it’s all in such good nature and in such a good vibe, that yes of course. We’re on our way. So, unplugged, we head out onto the street and down a little way from the bar. He pays us before we even start, and then we launch into I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) just for the benefit of his wife, even as the whole corner of the street stops with people taking in our performance. Some staff and managers even emerge from a few bars to see our street stopping performance, even as we continue to play for just one person who yes, films the whole thing as her personal memento.
We finish to applause and cheers from the full street, and hugs of gratitude from our private audience. It’s only 8pm. We’ve played four times and if we want to, could continue hustling and play three or four more; we could probably jump right into one of those corner bars right now as we’re told one of the people watching us from there was a manager. We’re assured he would be most welcoming if we decided to make the first move. But we feel done and maybe we should join our host for a beer at some point before it gets too late. Before all that, we decide to take our own break from a very successful and busy day. Another round please Dave. Then we take a table outside and hang and chat with the locals, while toasting to a fantastic day in The Hague which we were told couldn’t happen.
Back for more beers to round off the evening and to think about where we might want to tackle next. Between us and France is Belgium. We discount Brussels, thinking it might just be a bit too formal and grown up. For cities in Belgium, that leaves us with Ghent and Antwerp. Antwerp’s nearer, and A comes before G. So yes, with about that much consideration, we have our next destination. There and then, Maja books the hotel.
Day nine
Saturday August 20
So yes, we’re finishing off this tour with a weekend in Antwerp. We arrive at our hotel at about 3:30pm after a wonderfully sunny two and a half hour drive. We’ve just put our bags down and have flopped on the bed when my phone rings. I answer it and a girl introduces herself Julia, one of the two girls we met yesterday who were having the party. Are we still around? Sorry, we’re not. Oh, that would have been interesting. We have a little chat as I enquire about their party and she also asks how we got on. Then she says that anytime we’re ever in The Netherlands again, anywhere in the country, we should let them know. Wow. Just like that, we discover we have something of a start of a student following in Holland.
Well, we’re here now and we should get going quickly enough. We have two days and it’s already deep Saturday afternoon. First, lunch. And a bit of a look around. We leave the hotel and discover that we’re right into the heart of things as a short walk takes us to a long promenade type area, very busy and somewhat near the river. We’re looking straight down what looks like a stretch of kilometres, and the whole thing appears to be just restaurants and bars. Before we even left the hotel we discovered we both really fancied a burger. A proper big bar one with fries or something. We take in a little more of this promenade, but yeah, we really lit up at a place called Ellis Gourmet burger, and a few minutes after walking past it, we’re turning and making our way straight back there. First off, just about the best burgers ever and an absolute perfection of the image I think both of us had when we said, yep, let’s do that. Also a fantastic outside setting. But then the final touch is that this the staff are truly brilliant. I have some experience of this you may know, and I can see when a team of restaurant/bar staff really are working around each other as a team and I totally see that here, along with a complete image of calm, always having time for a quick chat and to make sure everyone is doing well. We ask our guy about places to play, explaining that we’re on tour and are here for two days. He’s straight on it, explaining that the main bar area is up the street from where we are now and points us in the right direction. Now fuelled up and with a great first impression of this city, we thank him very much, go get our gear from the hotel and set off.
Back out again and we haven’t gone very far from the hotel and in the direction we were pointed until we come to what seems like a fairly local bar. We go in and find the manager who says that yes, we could possibly do something in here, but the jukebox is on now and she’ll have to see how many songs have been paid for. She leads us to it and about half an hour of songs are cued up. We’re welcome to wait until that lot’s been played, or we can try later. We thank her for her accommodation and say we may try some other time. Now we begin what is going to be quite a decent walk, loaded as we are, as we discover that Antwerp, not totally unlike Hamburg, has all the bars and venues concentrated in one place and, unlike in Hamburg, our hotel is totally on the other side of the city. Still, it’s a great walk and once we hit the first places, we’re in dense hustling territory.
Down a side street and a few people sitting outside a bar ask if we’re going to play. They’re a little bit on the older side and we’re not entirely sure, but they seem very interested so we go in and check it out. The manager, who we learn is called Azeeza, loves the idea and says sure, go for it. It really is a slightly (muchly) older clientele in here, although there is a sprinkling of slightly younger people. We’re only talking about 10 in total so a quiet early evening audience, but they’re intrigued about the prospect of getting something different, and when we start, they get into it instantly and are with us all the way. Azeeza is dancing her way around the place, and we have a guy in who clearly represents the metal element. Just for him, we pull out a few songs that aren’t total go-to additions for our smash set. My Game, My Rules, which is at times to be fair, and when that goes down brilliantly with him and everyone else, we decide to dust off Nobody Said. Yes. That also works. We declare ourselves done after five songs, but then the encore shout goes out and yes, they want to hear I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) again. How could we possibly refuse? And yes, these guys look after us very generously. We’re invited to stay for a drink but we have hustling to do. With that, Azeeza makes us promise to come back later and claim it then. Yes, come back later, comes back the consensus from an eager new audience. How could we possibly refuse? We’ve almost walked away from the place before we realise we’d never even got the name of it. It isn’t in big obvious lights like most bars, instead being displayed in quite small letters we see now, from the other side of the street. De Leuwvan Vladeren.
Out into the main streets now and the biggest thing we notice is that everyone is sat outside. We keep thinking of hustling bars, but then when we enter them, there’s no-one inside. Then a bar manager tells us that it’s so rarely warm here that no-one wants to miss taking advantage of the lovely weather. Oh dear. So this is kind of what we’re looking at. Bad weather makes for uncomfortable walking around hustling conditions but much better hustling opportunities. Nice weather. Yep, much better to be walking around in doing all this, but not so good for business. We really had never thought of it that way.
It’s the same when we come to Kids, a really central, really big bar that looks like it might well be the place to go around here. Inside it’s all set up for live music with a stage and a very clear live vibe. We meet manager Twist who says they have a band about to play, but he says that if we come round tomorrow sometime between four and five, sure we can play. Wow. Just like that, we have a gig in the book for tomorrow.
A little further along and we find a cool looking corner bar called De Vuile Was, with other corner bars around it. We go and talk to the guys there who seem to be jointly in charge and they’re cool with us having a go. We set up inside but again, people are generally outside, so we go out there and do our thing in the street with the amp up against an open window. The guys here at our terrace are really getting into it, people are coming out of the other bars and checking us out, and people are hanging out of apartment windows and filming us. This goes very well, but during our second song we see the managers of our bar talking to the manager of the bar across the small square. The guy comes back and says we have to stop because we’re disrupting the other bars too much. Oh well. But they’re really cool about it to be fair, and the hat gets a decent amount of action from our little audience. And at one of the tables we get talking to a girl called Kim. She says that her friend Alan runs a bar called The Corner House, a little way across town. We should go and see him. He’d love to have us, she says. We thank her and set off to our new destination.
On the way, on the final street before we come to The Corner House, we see a guy on the other side of the road. He’s looking at us with some little bit of interest and is standing outside some kind of quirky music shop. We wave at each other, and he beckons us across. And just like that we meet Barry, from California, who owns that very cool looking music shop. He’s very interested to hear about what we’re doing and how it’s going and takes a card. We chat to him for quite a while and he says he’ll definitely check us out. Of course we mention the show at Kids tomorrow, which he’s very impressed to hear that we have, but he has plans for around that time so unfortunately won’t be able to make it. No worries. Some other time maybe.
Now we walk that last hundred metres or so to The Corner House. There, instead of meeting Alan, we meet a guy called Sufian who says he took over the place some time ago. Oh. OK. We talk about what’s going on anyway, and he says he’d love to have us now but the place is totally empty. But please come back again tomorrow and if there’s any sign of a few people being around he’d love us to play. Brilliant.
We’re quite far off the beaten track now but there is another bar or two nearby, and Sufian points us in the direction of an Irish bar. But when we get there we just feel the vibe is all wrong, and nothing else of the limited options around here feels right. Well, we’ve played two shows today, got a good feel for the place, and it’s going to be getting on a little by the time we arrive back in the main area. Also, with the long walk out in the first place, we’re kind of almost walked out. And we have to get back to the hotel yet tonight as well. We’ve also got two gigs in the bag for tomorrow so that’s a result in itself. So we decide to call it for today and go for that drink at De Leuwvan Vladerenthere.
As soon as we arrive, we’re welcomed enthusiastically by a few people who are still there from when we played, and by Azeeza, who’s now semi off duty and has a table out front where we join her and other assorted locals for a drink. Almost immediately, her and Maja get talking and between them, arrange for us to play here tomorrow at eight. Damn. That’s three gigs in the book for tomorrow now. Practically no need for hustling anymore. Another drink after this one? How could we possibly refuse?
Day 10
Sunday August 21
Oh wow. Today it’s like we’re on an actual real tour. Final day of the thing and we have a full schedule actually booked. Three shows in the diary. So also, for the very first time, no need at all to go out and hustle. And we only arrived in this city yesterday, totally cold with no contacts having been made ever. With all that being the case, we have a very slow morning followed by a lovely lunch in one of the restaurants in that nearby practical restaurant city. Then, 4pm, like proper touring pros, we’re off for our first engagement at Kid’s. We’re totally delighted to have landed a gig here because it seems, as far as bar gigs are concerned around here at least, Kid’s is the most prestigious gig in town. Right in the centre, hugely prominent, hugely popular judging by the crowds we saw here last night. And by far the most custom built and apparently storied live music venue we’ve seen in Antwerp.
We arrive at Kid’s at around 4pm and the place is totally empty. Also, Twist isn’t there. However, the duty manager is and he says Twist told him to expect us and to have us play outside where there are five or six people currently hanging out and where it’s hoped a few more may come along. OK. We can do that. We get ourselves set up, give cards to the few occupied tables – maybe 10 people by the time we’re about to start – and get going. Well, this really becomes a thing as we rip it up between the outdoor tables and quickly get the attention of the whole street. This is a wide pedestrianised area with bars all along both sides and a good amount of foot traffic in between. We don’t attract too many people to actually come to this bar, sit down and spend money, but we do practically stop the foot traffic in its tracks as the scene in front of us transforms into something of an open air festival, complete with people standing in the middle of it all and dancing as we continue to do our thing. And it’s out there that we begin to project our energy as this starts to be in danger of becoming some kind of event. The people around us also totally come to it as we start to feel like we’re the only thing happening in town right now. And this is where we pull out Make Me Shine for the first time. Not the most assured we’ve ever performed a new song, but it certainly does seem to bring out the air drummer in people. While out there in pedestrianisedville, hands are being pumped into the air like we’re in a summer’s field main event stage.
When we finish, a guy called Coch buys us drinks and we sit with him and his friends, one of whom we at least learn is called Jack. They are regulars of decades standing here. As I might say, the taste setters among the cognoscenti. And they approve. ‘I would rather see The Diaries than U2 anyday,’ he exclaims, almost to the ether as he contentedly faces up to the sun, beer in hand. Now to us: ‘You guys have such an energy and an honesty of performance and with some really good songs. It was fantastic to see.’ We’ll take that.
As we’re basking in the same sun and a few more warm words from a few more people, we become aware of the shadow a gun holstered policeman talking quite sternly with the guys, who are all pictures of innocence. No idea what he’s talking about it seems. When he’s gone, we ask what that was all about. Apparently, some people in apartments across the road called the police to complain about us. The police were hearing reports of something that sounded like a riot and now here they are.
Oh wow. On our last tour we got kicked out of our hotel. Now here we are in Antwerp being accused of starting a riot and having the police called on us. All from one completely effectless acoustic guitar and a single vocalist.
The policeman, if anything, seems bemused, and doesn’t even register our presence, sitting right next to him, guitar case propped up against a chair. Who? Us? While he’s thinking, ‘What? Them?’ It’s like we’ve come, smashed, and are now invisible.
But almost as mad as the police being called on us is the report we hear that Twist made of us yesterday when he let it be known we would be coming. Apparently he said that he’d booked a folk act. Just a guy on acoustic with his girlfriend singing. A lovely little sway in the sun he seems to have had us down as. Yeah right. Just wait till you get the police report.
We would love to stay and have another beer, and indeed are invited to, but like the trend setting, riot inciting tour musicians we are, we have an engagement to get to. And another after that, so it’s time to rock on.
We arrive at the Corner House and damn. It’s empty again. Sufian profusely apologises. Not his fault. Empty is the last thing he wanted. He wishes us all the best and we thank him very much just for being up for it. I think now would be a good time to bring to your attention that over these past few days, in The Hague and now in Antwerp, we’ve yet to be told no by a single venue. There has been a time or two we’ve not covered when a manager or decision maker hasn’t been around, but apart from that, where someone had it in their gift, not one person has turned us down.
No gig, but we’re in the vicinity of Barry’s place so we decide to go by there on the way back and see if it’s open and if he’s around. Oh well. The shop’s closed. But as we stand there talking, he hear us us and and comes out to the street and asks how it’s been going. We fill him in, and then tell him about tonight’s show that we booked last night. He says he’ll come.
By 7:30, we’re back in De Leuwvan Vladerenthere where we’re now apparently recognised regulars on just our second day in town. A few guys are there from yesterday and they’ve brought a few more friends who are eager to see what all the fuss is about, and yes, a buzz ignites around the place when we walk back in. We’re set up by a little before 8 and the clamour begins for us to begin. But we want to wait until at least eight to give Barry a chance to get here. Afterall, our shows are so short that if we start ten minutes early and someone arrives five minutes late, they’re lucky to catch one song and maybe an encore. By ten past eight, the calls for us to start are becoming a bit too hard to ignore so we decide that yes, we really should just get on with it. Almost as soon as we start getting ourselves ready, Barry walks in. He came. Just brilliant. And we’re on.
Yes, this does become the biggest show of the past three days. We’re playing to people who could almost be regarded as fans by now, they’re delighted friends, and the wonderfully enthusiastic Azeeza who is something of a cheerleader for us by now. And Barry who is wide eyed in joyful shock as we practically rock the beers off the tables. When we’re done, the party continues and we jump right in, circulating and chatting to all the regulars around the place and staying all the way to closing time.
Tour over with a totally triumphant last performance and de facto party, we set off on our walk all the way through town back lto the hotel. On the last leg, we see the juke box bar we tried our luck in on that first leg out yesterday. No, we’re not thinking of hustling it. How could we possibly top that last show? We’re done. But we would quite like another drink or two to keep this evening going. And dammit. We’re in full on relaxation mode now, tour all done and only the journey home left. No more hustling, no more left to prove. At least for now. We approach the bar and it is indeed still open, which is to say there are still people in there enjoying the evening. But no. We’re informed as we reach the doors that it’s closed. Oh well. We tried. But inside we’re greeted by Miguel and Eddie who were at our last show, and the one in the same bar yesterday. They enthusiastically welcome us in, even though the bar will remain closed. But just like that, we’re transformed in the eyes of the staff and locals and then introduced to a guy called Jelle. He comes and talks to us and we’re told he’s the guy who knows about music around here. We have a great feeling for him immediately, which is reciprocated as he says he’s off to a bar that’s open till 5am, and would we like to come? Oh yes. Yes please. So, saying goodbye to our new friends in here, we set off deep into the back streets to be led to a bar practically no tourist would ever see.
It’s not massively big and looks something like a taverna. Cold hard floors, a few tables lining the window, a bar running almost the whole length of it with neatly arranged bar stools. And a game machine at the back. We buy our beers, including of course taking care of Jelle’s, and join him with a few regulars he knows at a table down on the floor.
Of course, talk soon turns to what we’ve been doing here, and our tour, and our experiences in general, then curiosity to what we actually sound like. Well, only one way for everyone to find out. Is it our most sober and professional performance ever? Maybe. Maybe not. Is it loud, raucous, and cheered and stomped at? Oh yes. And now we are done. Totally, completely. Concluded at an almost secret late late night bar in the back streets of Antwerp, saluted by the last standing locals of the weekend. A perfect end to a city that has given us just the best welcome and experience. As we’ve made it ourselves, so it has responded in as good a way as we could possibly have hoped, and more. As with Berlin, with Antwerp we believe we may have found another of our touring homes. A place we feel we can return to and develop on what we have achieved in just these two days. And that is what international touring is all about. We will be back.
Day 11
Monday August 22
Breakfast in the town centre. A quite superlative vegan falafel on the restaurant strip. This sets us up perfectly for our drive to our small hotel in France. And that’s all she wrote for today.
Day 12
Tuesday August 23
Up and out by 12, in perfectly good time to go wine shopping in France before leisurely trundling to the ferry. European tour number two. You were great to us. Thankyou. You are done.
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