Sweden 2010, Day 13

I woke up to the sounds of deep breathing and light snoring. I lay in my bunk wide awake, loath to get up, knowing my stirring might wake them. I decided to risk it, grabbed my computer, and blogged Day 12.

Once that was done, and I had made myself coffee and breakfast, they still had not got up, so I went back to sleep myself. We all got up again around 11 and started our day.

Our gig tonight is in Uppsala, a small city 50 km north of our current location. We had to report for sound check at 15.30, so we left at 14.00 just to be safe. The town itself is incredibly charming. A lovely blend of old and new, populated by students and academics. There is a huge old cathedral there which dominates the skyline, though we do not have time today to visit it.

We walked into the Grand theatre for sound check, and I stopped COLD… the room was huge, the stage was huge, and I got so excited that this was where we were gonna play!!! Until I heard the words… “You guys are playing upstairs.” ARGH. So I have a huge-stage ego with a small-stage reality. Double ARGH.

We trudged upstairs to find a very cute lounge, with foosball, a pool table, and retro music-themed décor, complete with an old-style soda fountain bar. In short, a hangout for TEENS. Great. The stage was tiny, but the gear looked completely adequate, and the staff was friendly. And very young.

We completed our sound check and decided that now was the time to make a liquor run. In the bigger towns, the selection at the System Bolaget is much better. I figured we would buy a few beers, maybe a bottle of whiskey. HA! I keep forgetting, these are twenty-something guys. Our total haul was about 50 cans of beer, and bottles of bourbon, rum, scotch, and Drambuie (mine, so I could make a Rusty Nail). We threw it all in the car and went back to the venue to eat.

When we walked back in, the crowd had already started to gather. Young, tall, androgynous, almost elfin in their features, were many of these boys and girls. They looked at us like we were aliens. Even my 22 year old guitarist felt old. We were clearly in the wrong venue for our style of music, but hell, we are in this for fun too, so we made the best of it. I did not even bother putting on my full stage regalia; at this place it would have gone completely unappreciated.

Because the room was so small, the guys had to use their amps, which were solid state not tubes. Makes it easier to control the volume. Know what this means? TONIGHT I ACTUALLY GOT TO HEAR MYSELF! Sure enough when we broke into the first set, the stage volumes were absolutely perfect, except the sound man had about twice as much delay coming through the monitors as I would have liked. A little is fine; a lot is distracting. Nonetheless, I gave one hell of a vocal performance because I could actually hear what the hell I was doing. Even the boys were blown away.

As for the crowd… well, they seemed to like it, kind of like you enjoy watching the antics of old people… they tolerated it, respected it, and even clapped and cheered between songs. But it felt like we were teachers and they were students. They did not know quite what to make of us. Weird.

The next band held all the answers. They were a bunch of teenage boys, not very good, but had great passion and stage presence. Moshing commenced with their dual-frontmen growls and screams. They had asked to borrow our cymbals, so we stuck around for their short 20-minute set. When they were done playing, the place emptied out like the school dismissal bell had just rung. I think we will not seek a show there again. It was a fun experience, but not a step in the right direction of where we want to go. It was an entertaining detour, nothing more. Next time, we will be playing the main stage, opening for a large name act.

After the gig, the party commenced. There is no open container law here, so anyone in the car can drink except the driver. The pop and hiss of opening beer cans punctuated the music and laughter. Tobias was driving so he abstained, and had to concentrate on driving the tiny roads in fog.

I have debated about what to include in this next portion of the blog. Let’s just say… mass quantities of alcohol were consumed, silly things were done, stupid things were said, and all of it was in good clean fun. What happens on the road, stays on the road. I have no wish to embarrass my bandmates by publishing the specifics of their antics, but I can assure those of you reading in Sweden and the US, we are all alive with livers and morals intact. Mostly. A word of warning: no matter where you are in the world, drinking alcohol and discussing politics on the eve of a national election is a bad idea.

I had had enough by around 2.00 and went to bed. The others apparently partied and argued and laughed until the sun came up. I did not even hear it when they came to bed.