Tour Diary – First show Buffalo

Loved that gig last night at Town Ballroom. The Revivalist boys are cool. Their live show has a lot of country swagger. They’ve got brass and pedal steel. Man. There’s seven of them on stage. Good people. It’s good to be back on tour.

Our show last night started in sound check. Everybody ran out of time before doors and we had no choice. Helped us relax though. First show. Always a bit weird. Love that venue. Played there last year with Blackberry Smoke.

Matt White wanted to go to Woodstock while we were in upstate New York but we’re going the other way to Detroit. He wanted to see Levon’s studio space there. HERE is a great link of The Band rehearsing King Harvest:

It’s one of my favourite pieces of footage ever, their whole detached-cool aesthetic one of the main influences on the Temp’ when we were getting together. Their greatest legacy is attitude. It’s a timeless thing.

Lot of Bob Dylan on this run. He breezed in late one night in Philadelphia last time we were over few months back. It was around 2am and we’d all just eaten out first Philly cheese steaks and we were tired at which point ‘Boots if Spanish Leather’ breaks the silence sending us to that twilight place where you know everything’s going to be alright.

Shout out to Detroit… We’re heading your way now. Can’t wait

Phil xx

Tour Blog

2016-09-09T11:53:07+01:00September 9th, 2016|

Tour Diary – Denver to Iowa City 

‘You’re driving where? Ugh. I hate that drive. It’s so depressing!’ says the Denver hipster barista while handing us our delicious over priced boutique coffees.

Great.
Now we’re really in the mood for a 13 hour drive across America’s majestic Midwest. But with true TTM gumption we suck it up & try to make the best of a less than ideal situation. Photos are duly taken & posted. Paul faithfully begins scouring his phone for good eateries as we begin a post mortem of last night’s Denver show. We’ve played the Marquis before and it’s a great rock club. Nice mellow people run it & there’s a pizza joint in the venue. What’s not to like?
Familiar faces like Cee & hubby cram down to the front but there’s also plenty of new fans.
( Thank you so much for our care pack Cee. Great to have some home comforts in the van with us. ) It’s a Tuesday night & there’s been a lot going on in Denver so we’re not expecting a riot. But boy do these guys & girls like a sing a long!
New songs.
Old songs.
They know the whole hymn sheet. Maybe those lyric books are actually working. White Bear goes down particularly well & why not? These Denverites love a good riff when they hear one.
The Stone Foxes play their first show of the tour & are really quite excellent. Try to make the effort to get down early to see their opening set. It’s well worth it.

Once the chat about last night dies down in the van headphones & novels make an appearance. Phil gets to work on some ‘music curating’ and we get to know a bit more about the new boy. Dillon is our new sound guy / tour manager & we decide he’s the most unflappable dude we’ve ever met. Hailing from New Jersey he’s the one who’s drawn the short straw to cheerily get us across this vast chunk of America known as the bread basket of the US.

The Midwest gets a bit of a bad name & I’m still not sure why.
We have brilliant memories of some really good times here. Most of my favourite shows that we played last year were in the Midwest.
Detroit. Kansas City. St Louis. Madison. Des Moines. Indianapolis. Chicago. Minneapolis.
The list goes on.
Fantastic crowds. Music fans. Big hearted people that don’t shy away from telling you what they really think. Good or bad.
I’ve got great memories of our last show in Springfield IL. The snow was three feet deep in the car park as we unload the van. We walk into this enormous wooden shed with a stage in it. We start setting up but the locals won’t have it. They lead us into the bar round the front & introduce us to our very first American BBQ.
Brisket. Ribs. Coleslaw. Amazing.
And they don’t want your money. They just want to make you feel welcome.
I guess the worst thing the Midwest ever did was not be cool. Apparently farming & pick up trucks aren’t hip. But I don’t really care about all that. This part of America goes a long way to making this country such an epic place. If you can survive here you can survive anywhere. The wide flat terrain can make you feel lonely but the people sure don’t.
There’s hope here. And modesty.
Most of all there’s an acceptance of the natural world.
Sometimes I wonder what these folks make of us when we roll into town with our blacked out van & strange accents. But we’re always welcomed.

Bring on Chicago & the rest of the Midwest I say.

Damon

Tour Diary - Denver to Iowa City 

2016-07-15T10:30:50+01:00July 15th, 2016|

Sweden Tour Diary – Halmstad, Uppsalla and Helsingborg

I did actually get that curry (see previous diary entry) but had to walk through tornado force winds and biblical rain to get it. By the time we reached the restaurant in Falkenberg, the umbrellas we’d borrowed from the hotel were a twisted, mangled mess. We laid them to rest in a nearby bin, their days of offering shelter well and truly over. The food wasn’t at all bad. Falkenberg seemed an unlikely place to find a decent curry but the Prashad Curry House provided a tasty and comforting spicy meal in pleasant surroundings whilst all hell broke loose outside. Thankfully, the raging weather was in direct contrast to my hangover which had, at last, began to subside.
The next day found us in Halmstad, a mere 45 minute drive from Falkenberg. After some initial confusion as to the whereabouts of the venue (say nav first took us to what looked like a large hotdog stand) we entered the rear of a large building and were overjoyed to find ourselves in an actual purpose built theatre. We were greeted by a very friendly gentleman, intent on making our brief stay as pleasant as possible. He made us all a cup of coffee and showed us to our dressing room, a large area on the first floor containing a table laden with pastries, fruit and an assortment of nuts. I was just settling down to do a bit of a vocal warm-up when about 15 young children came piling into the room followed by a confused looking lady who informed me that she had the room booked for drama class. Myself and Phil gladly vacated the room, taking the pastries and nuts with us, and left them to it. There were plenty of other rooms in the building and their need for space seemed greater than ours. I then asked our friendly promoter if it was possible to connect to the internet but apparently, as I was not the holder of a library card, this wouldn’t be possible. I would also not be able to obtain a library card as I wasn’t a resident of Halmstad – Fair enough!
Once Pepper had finished shouting nonsense into all the microphones we ran through a few numbers so Iain could work his magic to get the best out of the p.a. system. The magic was starting to happen when the same Lady from earlier appeared at a doorway to enquire whether we would be finishing soon as all the children now had headaches and another lesson was about to begin. This we did, not wanting to stand in the way of their education.
The gig that night was both strange and fantastic in equal parts. The early stage time of 7.30 first raised my suspicions, it’s unusually early for a gig. It seemed as though some of the older members of the seated audience, of which there were many, were entirely unsuspecting of what they had actually come to see. I’m not sure what they were expecting but it felt like we might just have been the first rock’n’roll band they had ever witnessed and spent a good portion of the show apparently frozen in terror. Other members of the crowd were up out of their seats and having a great time. Phil, at one point, jumped off the stage for a sprinting lap of the venue. It felt like 1962 and we were the Rolling Stones appearing on the Ed Sullivan show. I loved every minute of it and, after chatting with people after the show, it seemed that they did too.
Next morning we were up and out of the hotel by 7.30. Uppsala was our destination, a mere 354 miles away.
We’ve played Katalin a few times before and always look forward to going back. It is owned by a large and ferocious but lovable woman by the same name who gives a great cuddle and cooks fantastic food. Woe betide anyone who doesn’t stop what they’re doing to eat whilst it’s still hot as Iain Graham discovered, much to our amusement. It was his first experience of Katalin and wasn’t sure how to react when she stormed over to him at the mixing desk and demanded he went and sat down immediately to eat. Wisely, he did as he was told. I don’t think she’d mind me describing her as large. When I asked her if she had any butter she replied, “Of course I have butter, look at me!”
The show at Katalin was the best of the tour so far. There’s no telling when one of these standout gigs will take place, it’s like the aurora borealis, but when it does it’s almost spiritual and I guess is what drives us all to do this in the first place. The feeling is akin to the best drug and we constantly strive for it. Of all the bands i’ve been in, The Temperance Movement delivers my most regular fix!
I want to thank all of you who’ve come out to these shows with special mention to those who have travelled sometimes even further than us to get there. I’ve spoken to a few of you who have made surprisingly long trips to come to a gig and your commitment to supporting us has been very humbling. We really are incredibly appreciative. We’re all excited about the upcoming release of “White Bear” and subsequent tour. Matt has settled in effortlessly and morale is high. Next year is looking set to be very busy and we’ll be getting to as many towns and cities as we can manage.
As I write this, I’m on a plane home. We played a great show in Helsingborg last night and I was first up this morning to catch an early train to Copenhagen Airport. The band will be together again at the weekend for our final show of the year in Sheffield before the Christmas break but I’m going to leave you for now with a quote from the ever quoteable Iain Graham who, after observing a confused look on my face during the first few tunes of our Falconberg gig, said “You looked like you’d just woken up in a bass players shoes onstage – like Quantum Leap”
Back soon…
2018-08-28T23:32:37+01:00December 3rd, 2015|

Sweden Tour Diary – Who needs snow tyres?

It’s 8.29am and we’re back in the van again, The navy seals of Rock’n’Roll completed yet another mission last night in Avesta and are already moving to our next target. It was lights out at zero one hundred hours this morning following a military exit strategy from the venue. This elite unit displayed unparalleled discipline and restraint by failing to be persuaded by the enticing soft Swedish voice calling from the corridor outside our rooms five minutes later… “Hey guys, are you all asleep? You want to come and party?”
We were staying at hotel Bjurfors, owned by a charismatic Swede named Leif. A man who’s policy on life is that it should be lived to its fullest at all times and has built his own resort in Avesta dedicated to his great love of good wine, food, music, family, friends and fun. The last time we were here, we performed in his giant tipi before an after-show party in his own private little pub. Leif was partying till the small hours despite suffering a mild heart attack three days previously – the guy is as strong as a ox. It was this pub that he had sent one of his staff to lure us to but with an early start, a long drive and a fourth consecutive show tonight, we steadfastly refused to succumb to the Scandinavian temptress outside our door.

It’s still not fully light yet and drizzle hangs suspended beneath an oily, flat sky as we begin the 320 mile journey. Our destination today is Falkenberg, a picturesque town in the south of Sweden we have visited a few times before. Each time we have played there, the crowd has grown in number and enthusiasm so we are expecting a raucous show and another demonstration in hard drinking, a skill at which the people of Falkenberg have previously proved exceptionally good at. Don’t let us down Falkenberg!
Unit Commander, Iain Graham is currently at the wheel. His co-pilot and navigator is Paul Sayer. Wilson, Campbell, Pepper and White are in the back immersed in a variety of activities including listening to music, video editing and sleeping.
Now that we’re making our way south, the snow and ice have given way to a rather more British like drabness. As glum as it is, the road conditions are now far less life threatening. The past few days on the road have been fairly hair-raising. According to the locals in Östersund, no one in their right minds would attempt to drive around Sweden in November without winter tyres. No-one that is, except us so we have been literally tobogganing our way around Örebro, Östersund and Sundsvall before achieving any sort of traction as we pass Göteborg on the approach to Falkenberg.
…24 hours later
As expected, the crowd last night fully upheld their reputation and any earlier intentions of retiring to our rooms soon after the show went out of the window. My souvenir from the evening is a slow burning hangover. It is gloomy and wet outside and i plan on making the most of our day off by involving myself in as little activity as possible, leaving the hotel only if absolutely necessary. I could murder a curry!
2018-08-28T23:32:47+01:00November 29th, 2015|

Sweden Tour Diary – Brrrrrrrr! It’s cold here.

Today we head North. The weather is becoming noticeably more hostile as we follow the long winding road to Östersund. To pass the time, we have set Ian Graham a geographic general knowledge challenge. His task is to list every country within a chosen  continent. He made a strong start by naming almost all South and Central American countries before moving on to name an impressive 37 out of 54 African countries. We’re now covering the Middle East. Testing his mental capabilities however, seems to be having an adverse affect on the quality of his driving which has just prompted the cautionary “Car quizzes cause carcasses” from quiz adjudicator Paul Sayer in the passenger seat.
A lot has happened since my last diary entry. The most significant being the departure of Luke from the band. His announcement came as a half-surprise to us. We’d been aware that he wasn’t the greatest lover of touring and being in the studio is where he is happiest but considering how far we’ve come together, it was disappointing that he’d chosen to leave. However, It can’t have been an easy decision for him to make and we wish him all the very best. We’re thankful for the amazing times we’ve had together and proud of what we’ve achieved so far of which he was a huge part.
Finding someone to fill Luke’s shoes (or lack of, if you consider his penchant for going barefoot on stage) was never going to be easy. We even considered importing from Austin, Texas at one point but realised that it would probably prove impractical in the long term. Turns out we only had to look as far as West London to find the considerable guitar talents of Mr Matthew White. He’s a quiet spoken skyscraper of a man with a gentle soul and a shared appreciation of the finer things in life such as artisan coffee, good music and quality luggage. He’s a perfect fit on many levels and in a short space of time, he’s dovetailed into the band beautifully. Losing Luke has been like breaking a leg. It was painful at the time followed by a period of limping but we’re now running at full speed and we’re going to keep on going. As sad as it was to see Luke go. We’ve all invested far too much to let his departure hold us back and there are many exciting times ahead.
Östersund is still a fair distance away and the roads are becoming increasingly treacherous. It’s dark now, very dark. There is no light pollution up here and our headlights illuminate only an icy road ahead lined with trees, their branches heavy with snow. It seems as though we’ve been driving a lot longer than the estimated 8 hours travel time but that’s probably down to the fact that we’re driving at 30mph to avoid sliding off a bend in the road.
So, if you happen to be knocking about Östersund tomorrow (wed) night, maybe we’ll see you. If not, the arrival of “White Bear” is fast approaching and we’ll be bringing it to a town near you soon.
Stay tuned…
2018-08-28T23:33:00+01:00November 25th, 2015|

Tour Diary Special – Hairy legs and Sticky Fingers!

“If we’re going to be on TV, maybe I should put jeans on” I said, standing in the lobby of our Orlando hotel at 7.30am wearing shorts. An hour later we found ourselves being interviewed live on Fox 35 TV. Not only was I still wearing shorts, but my legs had become a topic of conversation and the camera man was pointing his camera strait at them as the presenter commented on their hairiness (they look like I’m wearing a pair of wooly trousers – kind of like Mr Tumnus) much to Paul’s amusement who was also wearing shorts although his legs don’t have the same comedy value as mine.
The news story was not my hairy legs but that we, The Temperance Movement were the band that would be supporting The Rolling Stones at the Citrus bowl that evening. On a large TV screen behind us was an ariel shot of the stadium filmed from the Fox helicopter showing the gigantic stage that we would be performing on later to a crowd of 80,000. The day was already beginning to feel somewhat surreal.
Following the TV interview, we played a couple of tunes live on the radio for Lynch and Taco. We’d been on their show only a month previously when we played a small Cinco de Mayo acoustic gig in a downtown Mexican restaurant. This time, all talk was of the show that night. Orlando had been gripped by Stones fever!
Following this, we drove back to the hotel to collect our thoughts and our guitars before setting off for the Citrus Bowl.
All backline had been hired in for the show as ours was stored on the other side of the country in Seattle so, upon arriving, we went strait to the stage to check it all over. The air was hot and heavy and I became glad of my shorts.
Our dressing room was in one of the corporate sky boxes situated high up in the stadium to the side of the stage. These boxes are accessed by either a lift (or elevator depending on which side of the Atlantic you reside) or about 12 flights of stairs. The lifts were frustratingly slow and, as a consequence, we found ourselves running up and down the stairs for much of the day which took some considerable effort in the hot and humid Florida climate.
Once the Stones had finished their soundcheck, it was time for ours.
Towards the end of our soundcheck, as the 80,000 crowd began to trickle into the stadium, we were approached with a request you don’t hear often -“Mr Richards would like to say hello once you’re done. He’s waiting in his dressing room”. The day then got even more surreal
We were shown to camp X-Ray where we found not only a very welcoming Keith Richards but also Ronnie and Charlie who were equally congenial. They seemed genuinely pleased to see us again. There was a lovely atmosphere in the dressing room owing to various members of the Richards clan. Music flowed from the boom box on the table, the shepherds pie remained hitherto untouched. We felt honoured to have been invited into Keith’s sanctuary. He appeared relaxed and happy and who wouldn’t be, playing in the greatest Rock’nRoll band of all time surrounded by a loving family and friends. Luke and Paul chatted with Keith about guitars and music, Phil was nattering away with Ronnie whilst Damon and Charlie hit it off. I took a moment to look around and take it all in. It was a special moment. Thanks Keith.
The show itself was unforgettable. Whereas on the last shows with the Stones, we were given 25 minutes. This time we had a glorious 45 minutes to perform. We made the 5 minute walk from our dressing room to the stage, adrenal glands pumping hard, and opened our set with “Midnight Black”. It was still light when we began but, as it grew darker and the lights came on, there was a definite moment when everything clicked into place and the crowd were with us. People were there to see the Stones, not us. We were just an amuse-bouche before the main course but we felt an overwhelming amount of appreciation from the people of Orlando and, as we exited the stage, buzzed up and jubilant, we knew that we’d just experienced something very special. Thank you to The Rolling Stones and their touring party for such an incredible opportunity and for making us, once again, so welcome. We tip our hats to you.
2015-06-15T13:57:02+01:00June 15th, 2015|

U.S.A. Tour Diary – What a Long Strange Trip it’s Been.

I’ve started writing two incomplete tour diaries since the last one I posted. The problem is that by the time I got halfway through, they had already become outdated and events superseded by new ones. I’ve been chasing time but it out-ran me and so I find myself now on BA flight 0086 to London Heathrow
having finally completed our three month long adventure of the United States and Canada. Over that three month period, starting in mid-February, we have driven over 16,000 miles in our sprinter van, played fifty shows and performed forty-six radio sessions.. There have been highs and lows in both temperature and morale but regarding the latter, thankfully mostly highs. As five (six including the indefatigable Iain Graham) individuals travelling about in, what is basically, a tin can on wheels and living in such close proximity for so long. To come out the other side as an even stronger unit than before is testament to the love and respect we have for each other and our total belief in this band. It really has been an experience we won’t forget. As well as Iain Graham who has been solid as a rock as both a tour manager and sound engineer second to none, I’d also like to thank all the guys on our management team, our U.S. record label, our agent and live nation for working their asses off to make all this happen whilst we take all the glory! Stand up and take a bow guys, you deserve it!
Whilst i’m at it, I must also thank you, the reader of this diary, and everyone else who came out to see us on this tour and made it as amazing as it was for let’s face it, without you, the whole thing would have been pointless!
By now you may have heard that we are to support The Rolling Stones again. This time, in Orlando, Florida. We are obviously honoured and thrilled to be invited back by the most legendary band on the planet. Another piece of good news is that “Take It Back” has broken into the top 10 in the u.s. active rock radio chart. There are so many things going on at the moment that it can be hard to process it all. The implications of all the work we’ve done over here hasn’t become fully apparent to us yet. We’ve just been driving from gig to gig, cocooned in our cosy metal Mercedes womb, generally unaware of whatever impact we may be making. The active rock chart position has been a nice indicator for us that all our work has not been in vain.
So, to fill you in on the last week a little, I’ll backtrack to our San Francisco show. If this was a made-for-tv film in the late eighties, the screen would now begin to wobble and everything would go into soft focus as we travel back, back, back in time…..

I don’t think it could come as any surprise when I tell you that we are absolutely shattered. We swing wildly between bouts of manic energy and paralysing lethargy. It’s the kind of fatigue that has become so deep rooted that it’s going to take more than a good nights sleep to shake off. Add to that the fact that I forget where I am and have no idea what day of the week it is and you can see that it’s probably time we went home to reset and assume some sense of normality. I don’t want this to come across as a complaint. Everything about this tour has been incredible and tackling this gigantic country was always going to involve a lot of hard work but, like I imagine a marathon runner as the finish line comes into view would feel an elated sense of relief.  There are already plans for us to return to the States more than once this year and I’m already looking forward to this but it’s definitely time for a little breather – I’m knackered!

I was experiencing one of these bouts of lethargy on our arrival in San Francisco. We’d finished loading in and, failing to find a place to prostrate myself, I considered lying on the floor in the middle of the venue until doors opened and I was forced to move.
As has happened more than once on this tour, just as we start lacking in enthusiasm or begin to feel demotivated, something will happen to turn it all around and restore the status quo. The show in San Francisco was possibly one of my favourite of the tour. We didn’t know if anyone would show up to see us at all and whilst it wasn’t a huge crowd, it was certainly enough to create a great vibe. The sound on stage was magnificent and I felt that connection with my brothers in the band that I think makes The Temperance Movement special. It was just the tonic I needed and lethargy was replaced with adrenaline and pure joy – I love being in this band!
After San Francisco, we drove through breathtaking mountain scenery to get to Reno. Once there, I have to say that Reno was less breathtaking. At least downtown was anyway. Although at one time exciting and glamorous, the shine has rubbed off a over the years and left “The Biggest Little City in the World” slightly tarnished and tired.
Despite us feeling the same, the show in Reno was great and the crowd made the long drive more than worthwhile.
Our hotel in Reno was, naturally, also a casino and so I applied the old maxim, “when in Rome…” by investigating the slots. My self-appointed assistant, who sidled up to me once I’d selected a machine promising me good fortune and wealth, was a local drug dealer wearing a cap so low that he had to tilt his head backwards just to look at me. He first broke the ice by asking me for a lucky dollar which, when I handed it over, turned out to be not so lucky, and then proceeded to instruct me on how to operate the baffling machines whilst unsuccessfully offering to sell me various methods of getting high. With his slot machine know-how, we amassed a staggering fortune of just over four dollars which I donated to him to buy himself a better fitting cap before going up to my bed.
The next morning, we discovered that downtown Reno was not indicative of the rest of the city when we visited one of the finest coffee twatteries of the tour. We basked in the morning sun, drinking cortados and cappuccinos and eating unbelievably good pastries. Reno had redeemed itself!
The drive to Portland, although long, was stunningly beautiful and included a food-stop at an unexpectedly good Chinese restaurant literally in the middle of nowhere. Jeff Lee appeared to be both waiter and chef who, amongst his various life achievements, had once cooked for Jackie Chan, a memento of which he hung proudly on his wall. I’m sure Mr Chan was as pleased with his dinner as we were with ours.
Portland gave us some beautiful weather and a venue to match – The Star theatre. I’d like to add this venue to the list of ones we want to return to and sell out. Being a Monday night, the turnout wasn’t overwhelming but what the crowd lacked in numbers, they made up for in enthusiasm. Thank you Portland.
Our next destination on the home strait was Seattle. Or at least we thought it was Seattle until we were told that it was actually Ballard which is considered, by residents of Ballard, to be an entirely separate place altogether. Either way, the venue was in possibly the coolest neighbourhood in the U.S. Pretty much every shop or business was a twattery.   Even the gym had exposed brickwork! (to those of you who may be new to the tour diary and unfamiliar with the term “twattery”,  please see HERE for an explanation)
After loading in, I went off in search of a toy shop. My little girl had requested I bought home a new “Sylvanian Family” (“Calico Critters” to residents of the USA and Canada due to licensing agreements!) to live with us. Faced with the shame of returning empty handed, I summoned an über car to take me to Top Ten Toys and it seems that even the über cars in Ballard are the coolest in the U.S. When the car arrived, I jumped in the backseat and was instantly handed a Gladioli by a wonderful lady who reminded me of a cross between Whoopi Goldberg and Mother Theresa. The pockets of both front seats were stuffed with more Gladioli waiting to be gifted to the next lucky passengers. I wanted to take her home with me but she told me she was busy studying network security at night school and was quite happy in Ballard or Seattle or wherever we were. Gladioli lady waited for me outside Top Ten Toys until I returned with a family of kangaroos, a pair of robots and a giant squid. Back to the venue we went and another show crossed off the list.
Now only one show now stood between us and the finish line – Vancouver.
As our final show, we were always going to throw every last bit of energy we had left into it. We were all running on empty but as we walked on the stage and Damon counted in “Midnight Black” for the last time on this tour, the fatigue soon transformed into unbridled energy and the next 75 minutes were spent immersed in a blissful, loud, sweaty, beautiful, emotional finale. And that was that – Tour over!
So, as I sit here in seat 48D, there is a strange feeling of disbelief that the previous 3 months happened at all. It’s almost dreamlike. Did we really just do all that? There’s also a huge sense of achievement similar, I imagine, to a group of mountaineers standing atop Everest thinking, “Fucking hell, we made it!” And whilst we might not have the same view, at least we don’t have to climb back down again!
Instead, I’m on my way home to give my little girl a huge cuddle…and a giant squid!
2017-07-17T10:23:45+01:00May 23rd, 2015|

U.S.A. Tour Diary – Somewhere in California…

As we discovered in San Diego, when you lose all front of house sound and lights halfway through a show, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. We were performing at a listeners party for KPRI. The venue was a room that reminded me a little of my old school assembly hall except that my old school assembly hall didn’t have a courtyard outside with a fountain in the middle and hummingbirds busying themselves around hibiscus blossoms, drinking their sweet nectar. Anyway, we were two verses into “Midnight Black” when suddenly, out went the lights and the p.a. fell silent. The backline was still working so we ploughed on, hoping for power to be restored. It wasn’t and, strangely enough, the more we carried on regardless, the more the crowd went crazy. All we could really do next was to attempt an off-mic version of Chinese Lanterns. This went down a storm and as if on cue, the power was restored just before we reached the middle eight, allowing us to finish the song full band. The place went mental. It couldn’t have gone any better if we’d planned it and, once the crowd were on our side, the rest of the show was amazing. There’s nothing like it when you’re playing a gig and you feel like the crowd are right there with you. It’s like crack. Every show we play, we’re trying to arrive at that point so we can get our fix. We definitely got our fix in San Diego.

Los Angeles seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. We arrived around lunchtime on Wednesday and by early Thursday evening we were on the road again. Our first port of call was the Sixx Sense radio show. Nikki wasn’t actually there due to tour commitments but we spent an hour or so with his lovely co-host Jenn. The studio was much as you’d expect from a Motley Crüe member. Large throne-like chairs, lots of leopard print, photos of Nikki with people such as Slash and Lemmy and a reception desk bell labelled “ring for sex” – I rang it but disappointingly it didn’t appear to be working. The building we were in was also home to several other radio shows. As we were shown along the corridor to the Sixx Sense studio, we wandered past windows looking in on the other shows being broadcast. It was a bit like visiting an aquarium but with radio presenters instead of tropical fish to look at.
The show in Los Angeles was a lot of fun. The venue was strangely laid out with the mixing desk way above our heads and to the side. This dictated that Iain Graham had to mix the sound remotely using an iPad – something that caused him great pains. You could almost see him wincing with embarrassment as he pushed virtual faders up and down whilst standing in the crowd. I guess it’s the engineer equivalent of playing guitar hero on a playstation instead of the real thing.
After we successfully blew up the room, we spent some time hanging out and drinking delicious tequila that had kindly been smuggled into the venue for us. We had a great night and the Los Angeles box was firmly ticked.
We had a couple of bits of promo to do the next day. The first, a photoshoot and interview out in the desert. The weather was uncharacteristically cold and wet for mid may in Los Angeles and, as we stood in the drizzle looking out across the rolling Valencia hills, it felt more like Scotland than California. The photographer was a nice guy and took some great snaps. We held the interview in our increasingly crammed van. We seem to have acquired an awful lot of stuff on this tour. Getting it all home should prove interesting.
As I write this diary entry, I’m sitting in a roadside restaurant somewhere in California. We left Los Angeles yesterday evening after our second bit of promo and drove for 3 or four hours before stopping in a comfort inn to sleep. I just woke up, showered and came outside to find breakfast. There’s not a lot around here – wherever here may be. As the rest of the world marched forwards towards the twenty first century, this little pocket of California appears to have been left behind in the early eighties. There’s an original PAC-MAN arcade game as you enter the restaurant and mounted all around the ceiling beams are children’s lunch tins. It’s an impressive collection. As I scan around, I see E.T., The Fall Guy, Knight Rider, Close Encounters of the Third Kind and other films and T.V. shows from that golden era. Paul has just joined me for a quick omelette before we head for San Francisco so sign off now but will return with more thrilling tales of sitting in a van!
2015-05-18T07:21:06+01:00May 18th, 2015|

U.S.A. Tour Diary – Ants!

As I look out of the window of our van I see open blue sky, unblemished save for the occasional wispy cloud and the odd bird of prey soaring above a vast expanse of Arizona desert littered with cacti, some reaching 25ft high. They’re the stereotypical kind you’d draw if asked to draw a cactus. A tall pillar with two offset arms held in a surrender. The mainly flat desert is interrupted by craggy mountain ranges. There is not one building as far as the eye can see. A small twister whips up a column of dust close to the road. I imagine you wouldn’t have to look far to find a rattlesnake. This has been the scenery for most of the day. We’re on our way to San Diego from San Antonio – an 18 hour drive that we’re tackling over two days. Last night we stopped over in Las Cruces in New Mexico and were back on the road at 9am this morning to smash the remaining 699 miles. It’s the longest drive of the tour so far but by now we have become so accustomed to spending our days in this van that we are relatively unfazed by such an undertaking and we’re excited to reach California.
We spend our time in the van in different ways. Some of us might binge-watch a tv series to while away the hours. Sometimes the constant hum of the van might lull you into a snooze. Sometimes we learn about a place we’ve been or are travelling to, or sometimes we’ll get stuck into a debate on important matters such as “The ultimate toasted sandwich”. Earlier on this drive we attempted to remember all the places we’ve been on this tour in chronological order, and any notable events that took place there. This took some impressive powers of recall and killed at least two hours!
We are a mere 10 days away from completing this 3 month adventure and our time with Blackberry Smoke has come to an end. San Antonio was the final show of their tour but all good things come to an end and we must now go it alone as we venture west.
We had a fantastic time with the Smoke boys (as well as The Ben Miller Band) and, if they’re reading this, would like to thank all the band members and crew again for being so hospitable and unfailingly helpful throughout the tour. We marked our final show together by all piling onstage, Parliament-Funkadelic style, for a version of “Streetfighting Man”. Doug from Ben Miller Band’s trombone solo was a highlight and, for me, secured the trombone’s place in rock’n’roll!
I last left you in Dallas where, if you remember, I was struggling to get up off the bed. We’d just returned from a couple of bits of radio promo which had both gone exceptionally well but after the previous night’s show and subsequent long drive followed by the early lobby call, I was feeling a bit depleted and would have been quite happy to have stayed in my room and staged a John and Yoko style love-in…minus Yoko. Unfortunately, this was not possible and we assembled at the van to throw our cases in the back and travel to the venue. Iain Graham had been given more of an incentive to get up as he had discovered his bed under attack from ants. Paul was witness to a highly agitated Scotsman hurrying towards the elevator past a housekeeper exclaiming “I’m covered in ants!” Her brilliant, dead-pan reply, was “I’m sorry Sir, would you like me to take you to a hospital?” This unexpected offer caused Iain to stop dead in his tracks and politely respond with “Oh, no thank you, it’s only ants!” We couldn’t work out if she was genuinely concerned that Iain might be in mortal danger from the ant attack or, she was just displaying a highly developed sense of sarcasm – I’d like to think it was the latter. Iain showed us a video of the invasion. It was undoubtably traumatic for him to have been violated by so many creatures, there must have been at least six or seven of them!
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…it is now 24 hours later and I’m sitting in sunny San Diego. We made it! The remainder of our drive took us through a constantly changing landscape. We drove through areas strewn with giant boulders, areas of lush green agriculture and miles of Kalahari-like sand dunes. At one point, not long before we reached San Diego, it looked like we were driving across the surface of the moon.
Myself and Luke celebrated our arrival last night by jumping strait into the hotel pool which interestingly was designed by Tarzan – or rather the actor and competitive swimmer who originally played Tarzan, Johnny Weissmuller. After our refreshing plunge, we ate a delicious dinner, drank a tasty beer and retired to our comfy beds.
We crossed two time zones to get here so found ourselves waking earlier than we’d have otherwise chosen. This was actually a positive though as it gave us more time to enjoy a delicious Californian breakfast and take another dip in Tarzan’s pool before setting off for a full day of promo. It feels good to be here. Not that it’s necessarily better than anywhere else we’ve been but there was a real sense of achievement when we arrived. We’ve been out here since mid February and have survived brutal sub-zero temperatures, driven tens of thousands of miles and made it all the way to the other side of the country. This tour has been an incredible experience and an amazing chapter in our story which continues to unfold daily. There’s probably a couple more diary entries to go before the final one of the trip so stay tuned, it’s not over just yet. Next stop – Los Angeles
2015-05-13T07:02:29+01:00May 13th, 2015|

U.S.A. Tour Diary – Quantum Leap

Disclaimer : I’m reaching the stage of the tour where i’m not altogether sure where i am or what day of the week it is so bear with me, this could get confusing. Strap in, here we go!
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Myself, Luke, Paul and Iain Graham have just returned from Del Mar Lanes in Houston, Texas. Along with shuffleboard, table tennis and frisbee, 10 pin bowling has now become a favourite pastime of the Temperance Movement touring party. Our hotel in Houston is not downtown but 30 minutes out and surrounded by freeways. A large Mexican seafood restaurant, a laundrette (which has proved itself very useful) and a fuel station are our neighbours but it’s pretty much concrete and billboards as far as the eye can see. We had caught the bowling bug two nights previously in Orlando (I’ll come to this later) and, as there was no show tonight, we looked up the nearest bowling lanes. We were rewarded with a no-frills, time-warp of a bowling centre that looked like it was strait out of the Big Lebowski. It was absolutely brilliant! Once we’d collected our special shoes and were shown to our lane, we noticed that the room seemed to be segregated by ability. One half of the room was buzzing with activity. All lanes over that side were crammed with mostly men brandishing their own custom made balls, one dude even sporting a single bowling glove like a ten-pin loving Michael Jackson. They hurled balls down the oiled lanes with practiced confidence and the sound of resin smashing into wood echoed around the building. On the other side of the room, taking up one solitary lane, was us. It was as though the occupants of the other side were worried that they may somehow, by proximity, contract an inability to bowl. There seems to be a certain amount of superstition in bowling. I noticed some kissing of balls (fnar, fnar!), and little rituals adopted to get into “the zone” so perhaps it’s generally considered wise in bowling circles to stay well clear of people who are shit at bowling i.e. us – we were bowling lepers! Thankfully, a couple of guys were brave enough to wander over to our side of the room. In a friendly gesture, they first advised us that it would work financially in our favour, if we purchased a bucket of beers instead of buying them singularly. This led to further conversation at which point I asked one of them outright, “So, how do we bowl?”
“I’ll be right back” came the reply.
Obviously, any idiot can throw a ball down an alley and knock a few pins down but we suspected there was more to it than this and, sure enough, 10 minutes later, our new friend Ron, came back over with his buddy to shed some light on the intricacies of the game. Literally, within a few frames under Ron’s expert tutelage, we were noticing an improvement and definitely a less random result. It was interesting to watch how differently everyone bowled. Luke developed a beautiful fluid style whereas Iain Graham’s technique by comparison was still to hoof it down the lane and hope for the best.
So, as I mentioned previously, it was our last visit to Orlando that sparked this bowling obsession. We’d hopped on an airplane to do some radio promo after our stint in New Orleans. We were collected from the airport by our radio plugger Howard, and, after a huge feast of meat at a Turkish grill, ended up at an AMF bowling centre just a stones throw from our hotel. Howard, being the affable and modest guy that he is, played down his bowling talents on the walk to the lanes but once there, absolutely destroyed us. Whilst we flailed about, trying to keep the ball out of the gutter, Howard became Roy Munson from “Kingpin” scoring strike after strike. We should have suspected he had bowling talent after he revealed to us that his grandmother had, only the previous week, scored 190 – not bad for an octogenarian. He was from bowling stock! Howard was most pleased that night to have beaten her score and was looking forward to calling up Grandma to gloat. Now that we’ve been receiving coaching from our mate Ron, we’re looking forward to a rematch with Howard and kicking his ass. Get ready Howard, it’s on!
The following morning, we were up early to get on the radio and promote a little acoustic gig we’d be doing later in the day for Cinco de Mayo. This holiday celebrates the Mexican army’s victory over French forces at the battle of Puebla but seems to have been hijacked as an excuse by Americans to drink tequila. The radio went amazingly well and attracted a bigger number of people than we expected to the 2pm session. Similar to the acoustic session we did a while back in Silver Spring, it could have gone either way – an uncomfortably empty and unresponsive room, or a resounding success. Thankfully it was the latter and we turned the Elixir Bar Room into a party. Damon worked the room, dancing with anyone within reach, Phil was a frenetic ball of energy and by the end of our set, I was wearing an oversized sombrero and performing a shaker solo – something that is unlikely to happen again! An interview was conducted immediately afterwards which involved coercing us to drink tequila shots and then we were free to hang out and chat to some Floridians.
You’ll have to forgive the confusing chronology of this diary entry today but one thing I haven’t mentioned yet is our trip to New Orleans. This happened six days ago after our blowout on route to Houston which is where we find ourselves again now. Plus, by the time you read this, we’ll be somewhere else – see, confusing isn’t it!
Anyway, I’d personally never been to New Orleans and was pretty excited to get there, especially as the jazz festival was in full swing and the town would be in party mode – which it is most of the time anyway from what I’m told. After our first of two shows, we went out to explore. The streets were alive with partygoers, tourists, buskers and other characters with dubious intentions. Buses cruised up and down with signs inviting people to jump aboard and in the back would be either a live band or an earth shaking sound system. People poured out of bars onto the pavements and there was music everywhere. Bass-heavy Hip-hop mixed with jazz trombones and tubas and live bands playing cover songs all blended into a cacophony of noise making it hard to know what to dance to. As you walked down the street, you’d tune into whichever was the loudest or nearest to you. Parts of the French Quarter and particularly Bourbon Street are like Blackpool sprinkled with voodoo dust – full of cheap bars, souvenir shops and inebriated tourists but there are also parts of the city away from the madness with stunning architecture and beautiful gardens. We tried to go to Preservation Hall – a historic music venue established to preserve New Orleans jazz, but all tickets were sold out so we walked through some of these quieter parts in search of a place to have a drink on the less mental side of town. It had been a long day and was already way past midnight so it wasn’t too long before I found myself back at the hotel and tucked up in bed.
New Orleans was a memorable part of the tour. The weather was hot and sunny, the atmosphere unlike any other city we’d visited and we got to see some great live music. Lenny Kravitz, Buddy Guy, and a spell in the Gospel tent at the jazz festival followed by a typically chaotic show back at the House of Blues later that night from George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic. Backstage at the House of Blues is a wall on which is written the names of all the bands who’ve sold out the venue. I’m looking forward to the day we can come back and add “The Temperance Movement” to that wall.
So we’ve now come full circle back to where this tour diary started but, just to confuse you even more, I’m going to reveal to you that I am now no longer in Houston where I began writing this quantum leap edition of the tour diary, but lying on a bed at midday in Dallas. We drove from Houston after the show last night to get here as we had early morning radio promo to attend. We’ve just returned from the station and are attempting to get our heads down for an hour before moving to a new hotel and then the venue for tonight’s show. As far as I know, it’s Friday, the 8th May, 2015.
Phew! I’m beginning to know how Marty McFly felt.
2015-05-08T17:45:20+01:00May 8th, 2015|
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