Last night the stage had the odour of an old television. Robert's Fender twin was as hot as an oven. Valves glowing like a pinball machine with three extra balls and on target for a record score. We played in a room that felt like an American school gymnasium. The sound was bouncing around the brick walls like the silver balls in that pinball game. No one seemed to mind accept for the two toiling away in the engine room, struggling not to be tripped up by the phantom beats flying around the room.
Life in the road is gig-sleep-breakfast-drive-setup-gig-repeat. So here we are on the grey route to Oxford. We've never been here before so there is a low glow of anticipation in the van.
So far the tour has progressed without major incident. There have been some close calls, Adele narrowly escaping superheated broken glass showering down from the ceiling in Frisco, and Robert almost falling into one of those basement trapdoors on the sidewalk in New York. My major fear is leaving something valuable behind. There is no going back. On the road everything is valuable because you can only afford to carry essentials.
This tour will be remembered for its great leap forward in technology. Laptops and Satellite navigation. Life just keeps getting better. I remember first touring with a mobile phone and wondering how anyone ever managed before.