by king_rhoton » Sat Mar 06, 2010 7:50 pm
(cue Logan's Run announcer voice) Last day, Netherlands tour
8am. Gwen and I wake up to rain. Get cleaned up and head down to breakfast at 9am. Should've asked for a later breakfast--this is our shortest commute day since Hoorn is only around half an hour from Amsterdam. Breakfast is the same as yesterday. Specifically, cold and sparse. Shortly, Jan shows up.
K: "So, did everyone survive last night?"
J: "There was a lot of drinking. I must have had bad shrimp for dinner--I was ill all night."
K: "Yikes. Good thing it didn't happen during the show."
Jan smiles. Sounds like he's pretty empty, and that's probably a good thing.
K: "So, everyone's probably going to be sleeping until check-out."
J: "Yes. They have a few more minutes, and they're not even out of bed yet."
Unbeknownst to me, check-out is at 10am. Sigh. Great. So, rather than going back upstairs for another couple of hours nap, we need to get the heck outta Dodge. As we're getting ready to head back up to the room, Kevn shows up.
K: "Coffee."
J: (in Dutch) "Can get we get a pot of koffie?"
(waitress rummages around)
K, turning to the waitress: "And do you have a toaster?"
(nothing)
K (turning to Jan): "Do they have a toaster?"
J (in Dutch): "Toaster?"
(nothing)
J (more stridently, in Dutch): "Do you have a toaster?"
W: (around 30 seconds of pretty past-paced and emotional Dutch)
J: "No."
Note to self: investigate other hotels in Hoorn if there's a return....
Gwen and I brave the rain for the 2 blocks back to the train station. Short trainride back to Amsterdam. Great; it's bucketing down. Amsterdam just doesn't want me to like it. We grab a cab to the hotel. From on-line reviews, I knew about one big problem--lots of people had commented on the front stairs. And I see what they mean: stone steps, worn smooth, currently lubed with rain water, and with all of a 4" tread and a 6" rise. Definitely not ADA-compliant. This will be a joy to load our equipment in and out. Inside, though, it's warm and dry. I can see why Kevn likes this place. For one, it's QUITE cheap. That probably also accounts for its popularity with other musicians too; the wall is covered in framed photos of famous guests: Bowie, various Stones, etc. Later in the day, I see Aaron post to Facebook that Slash was in the room next to his.
We've arrived at the hotel at 11am, so I'm not too surprised that our room isn't ready. We wander around in the rain and find the venue. No small feat, as it's entirely unmarked--it does, however, have show posters in a ribbon around it. Ah, and the glamorous loading dock. Well, that took all of half an hour. So, now that we have time to kill, NOW's the time for a sit-down meal in Amsterdam. We find another pancake house. Gwen gets goat cheese and spinach, and I get Indonesian chicken (hey, it's an early show, so if there's a problem, it shouldn't kick in until after the show). That kills around an hour. We're back to the hotel around 1pm. After 5 minutes, our room is actually ready. The show's at 4:30, so we need to be there around 2pm, so it's a quick-ish turnaround in the hotel. Our room is tiny, around the size of a psych cell. The bed takes up most of the floor space. There's JUST enough room to open the suitcase on the floor. The window's open, natch, but the room's warm. The radiator doesn't seem to have any control, so I guess the strategy is to keep it on and regulate the temperature by how far you open the window.
Back to the venue, and I see the van, so I know Jan's here. As we're looking for entry, some timid and awkward German guy approaches me with a bag containing several records. "Kevn Kinney?" What is it over here? I need to find some way to work this to my advantage. I tell him when doors are and assure him that Kevn will be happy to autograph stuff after the show. We go inside.
It takes a while to find the right stage. I know Kevn's not playing the main stage (and some other band is loading-in too), but I thought is was downstairs, but it turns out it's upstairs. The room's roughly twice the size of Smith's. It's got thick blackout curtains, a raised stage, and rows of seats for around 70. I find Jan and show him my cables:
K: "Can I get a soundboard feed again?"
J: "You have to ask the house guy." His face turns sour and he gestures to the board. "All this is digital."
The sound guy plugs in my XLR cables (not cinch!). No signal. He boosts the signal all the way. Still nothing. I turn my gain all the way up. One LED. That's probably just noise. After another 20 minutes, he determines that the patch panel where I'm plugged-in isn't actually connected to anything. "All this is brand-new." Great. So, this will be a learning experience for all of us. He plugs me in somewhere else. Eventually he gets the sound routing right. (At one point, I have solid levels, and he seems happy, but I notice that they're not moving and ask him to kill the feed. My levels stay the same--yup, this is just noise. He understands. When everything looks reasonable, I grab ear buds from Gwen which she saved from our flight--not exactly high-fidelity, but I'm able to determine I'm getting SOMETHING although it's inexplicably delayed by 5 seconds from the room sound. Damn digital boards. I can fix that in post, and this is probably as good as I'm going to get anyway.)
The show happens. Gwen and I take our customary out-of-the-way-but-still-front-row seats. The front row center seats end up going to a family who bring several kids around 6 years old. And they're fussy and noisy. The house sound drowns them out, and I think Aaron performing "My Ex-Girlfrield Is a Bad Lesbian on Drugs" convinces the family to leave. Thanks, Aaron! During Kevn's set, some guy with a Nikon is taking shots at the front. I loan him my lenses--hopefully he likes 'em. He's shooting with an 85mm prime, and I notice it's f1.4. Nice. Shame it's a DX. As I wind through the crowd to check the audio, I stumble into Peter from Hoorn! "Hey!" He seems pleased I remember. After the show, I tell him, "Your show was better." Guys are talking around my mic, so I relocate it a bit further back. I expect that the show in the biggest city with the most expensive sound system will turn out to be the worst, audio-wise. You can just NEVER tell how these things are going to go.
After the show, Gwen and I pack our stuff well so we don't have to repack for the flight and drag our stuff back to the hotel--there's no telling when the band is leaving nor if they're going back to the hotel first. We get back to the hotel wet, but the equipment cases are waterproof, so I'm not overly worried. I take my time hauling it up the front steps. I have visions of slipping and losing a handful of teeth. Back up the in room, and I run out of steam. 4 days on-the-go. I set the alarm (we're actually leaving before breakfast, so I don't have to worry about that) and pass out.
