DAY 2 – Stick to the Beers (16.10.15)Rising like phoenixes, it was up at 11am for showers and refreshment. Scotty cooked the sausages whilst I scrambled eggs and beans. With some time to spare we took a walk around the holiday park, enjoying the scenery and freshness. We found crazy golf, trampolines and a swimming pool (complete with Turkish baths and sauna) all free to use. Earmarking the pool for the following day Johnny remarked “better be careful Kal, don’t want the ‘S’ falling off your Speedos”. Back at the lodge I shocked the world with my first ever vocal warm-up. Honey and hot water followed by a few a couple of renditions of ‘Moonshiner’. Then it was off to Munnekzjil for gig two.
Longest journey of the tour at two and a half hours (which is nothing for us
with our regular London treks) we arrived to the question: “Coffee or beer?”Answer: four beers and a coffee(for Johnny). The bar was a cosy little place which I knew would make for good rocking. We sat down to chicken and chips, laid on again – still a novelty. The American band who were joining us in this small village in the North (population 484) – Shawn James and his Shapeshifters arrived and we got to chatting to the guys from Fayetteville, Arkansas. A cool bunch, hell-bent on getting as high as humanly possible and delivering their own brand of folk rock and roar. Some t-shirt and CD swaps went down and then we got to checking.
No sound guy proved no problem. We checked via Jordy and Kal and it was sounding good. As the place filled nicely we proceeded to bust out a solid hour-set of SBs finest. The response was real good and we came off stage pleased, happy to sit back, drink some more free beers and enjoy our transatlantic amigos. Man, did I enjoy their set. The violinist, Chris Overcash, might be one of the sickest musicians I’ve seen live. Between the banjo, mean bass, snappy percussion and Shawn’s Waits-on-crack-with-bags ’o’ melody voice it was both literally and figuratively music to my ears.Afterwards we mixed it up with the locals, drinking and chatting. Chris provided
us with a violin solo show in the gear room and then it was time to truly hit the bar... and when I say hit the bar, I mean destroy the bar. Sat with Baker, Shapeshifters Banjo player, talking about DBT, Isbell and all our alt-country-rock faves he warned me in thick Southern U.S. accent “Have you tried the Fireman? They had to carry me out of here last time!”. I had no idea what the ‘Fireman’ liquor consisted of but it sure went down easy. Two hours later Scotty was literally carrying me out of there… then slipping as I gripped the door in defiance, toppling us both and busting up my arm.
In the interim I had made some Dutch drinking buddies, as loud and lairy as myself. Continuously saying “this motherfucker can sing” and laughing from the gut when I repeated their names with near-perfect impressions of their accents. We hammered the bar so much that they withdrew the ‘free’ bar offer. My new buddies didn’t let that affect us and dug deep for more rounds of beer and Fireman. So we drank… and drank… and…That’s where my memory of the night ended. I headed for the guillotine. Full blackout. My first since January 2014. A good run but a timely reminder. Pleased it was on foreign soil and by all accounts limited damage – but the re-caps the following morning made for an amusing, embarrassing and torturous listen. I'll save them for my day 3 writing. Another Tour rule had been broken and another ‘new’ tour rule written. Holy shit – I paid for those shots in the end. Still paying.
