Once, when Slaughterhouse 5 were playing in London, I remember telling Miles Copeland III Jnr (our big boss at the time, IRS Records head honcho, former manager of The Police and general all-round music business luminary) that he had bad breath.
I don’t think I really offended him. Thankfully, he took the statement as it was intended – as a light-hearted and playful aside. But afterwards, I did regret saying it.
I felt embarrassed and foolish.
As I look back on it now, my conduct sort of symbolised and perfectly characterised, in a single casual remark, one of the worse gigs we had ever played.
Overall, the Wide Open Tour was a short but bizarre and peculiarly eventful one (more to follow).
We drove up and down the country in the middle of winter in an old and barely-legal Ford Transit. I remember sitting on the 2×15 bass cab, shivering and drinking Thunderbird Wine with roadies Tom and Rick at nine o’clock in the morning as we travelled over the Pennines, cuddling up with them in their frosty compartment that housed all the gear in the rear of the vehicle.
We were booked to appear at all the usual toilets and dives, unattractive and unwelcoming university halls of residence, hostile and elitist student bars, and of course, the back rooms of the usual assortment of sticky-floored pubs and clubs that stank of puke and cheap disinfectant.
It was great fun, though, and as the tour was coming to an end and we arrived for our shows in London, we calculated that over the course of those two months, we must surely have played to several people. We were a very hungry band at the time: we would literally have played for sandwiches – and very often did.
That particular night at The Borderline, Graham Boffey – the band’s brilliantly talented and good-looking young drummer - ensured with all his usual panache that the show really got off to a flying stop when his elderly bass-drum pedal fell to pieces during the opening bars of the first number in the set.
After more songs with various amps failing and guitar strings happily snapping, we reached the end of the show and played a medley of our hit Pathetic Girlfriend after which we stormed off the stage and headed for the dressing room for a good sulk.
It was perhaps because I was in such a foul mood (and acting like your run-of-the-mill, punk rock prima-donna) that I unadvisedly decided to point out to Mr Copeland that the freshness of his mouth odours left a lot to be desired.
I sincerely wish that I had kept my mouth shut, but then again, I wish that he had, too.
On the Fantastic hi-fi today:
Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band – The Beatles
Grace – Jeff Buckley
Wide Open – Slaughterhouse 5
Tagged as:
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