PHEEEW! A busy 2026 for French TV. I’ve been a bit remiss in documenting our misadventures over the last few years, I’ve been advised by my wife and various band mates that I really ought to remedy this. Soooo….
PROGDAY 2026:
In spite of my better judgment, I decided to throw our hats into the ring and suggest to Michael Bennett and the other organizers of ProgDay that having FTV play this year would be a splendid idea, even though we’d be heading to Europe for some shows a week later. They said sure, and so the sleepless nights began.
Touring FTV drummer Jordan Holiman was unavailable for the PD show due to a conflicting tour with another band, so it was up to FTV veteran Jeff Gard to come to our rescue. Jeff and I had weekly merriment-filled rehearsals for 2 months leading in to the gig. A few days prior to the show, we then arrived at Pat Strawser’s domain for almost-full band rehearsals (minus trumpeter Bret Proseus). On Friday, Lane, Jeff and I departed for Chapel Hill, North Carolina, somehow missing the hideous traffic the other guys endured that day. Got to the air b’n’b’ Brent and our good buddy Chris Jones provided, grabbed some needed groceries and Devil’s Brew, and chilled until our rehearsal. Met up with Pat at the rehearsal place Jeff had helpfully lined up for us for the night before PD, whose owner was a super nice guy and let us stay well beyond the allotted time we (well, Jeff) paid for. Lots of laughs during getting these tunes in good working order and felt pretty good about our ability to pull them off the next day.
Storybook Farm was a little over a half hour from our dwellings. Got there, parked, set up merch table, and killed time until our appearance on stage. Caught up with a bunch of old friends, including Cuneiform head honcho Steve Feigenbaum and organizer Michael Bennett, who is as big a nut about all those late 60s-early 70s rock bands as I am, really enjoyed discussing the finer points of Bloodrock and Steppenwolf (among others) with him. Got to hear a lot of of “I saw you guys in 1997—or was it 2009?” “Which cd would you recommend?”, and my favorite “So why the name French TV—what’s the story?” from most of the other ProgDay patrons. A prelude to the upcoming tour.
SHOWTIME! Shoveled our instruments of destruction on stage, a quick soundcheck (a good thing, considering the way things unfolded), a nice introduction, and away we go! Ferociously whipped through the set, Pat and I worked the crowd (almost as much fun as playing), and maybe halfway into our set, the temperature dropped, and the winds kicked in. I make a crack about the weather being under our command, and 3 distant lighting strikes later, we were temporarily bounced from the stage until the weather conditions improved. Rained briefly, and maybe 30 minutes later, we were back at work. Played another 3 songs, and somebody unwisely asked the stage crew if they were behind schedule. Of course they said yes, and we ended up finishing 2 songs early with Pat’s tune “Spirit Of The Age” that’s almost impossible to navigate cleanly in one go. Good thing it has a nice closing section! Back to the merch table, and was very happy to see our cd stacks diminish, accompanied by many compliments on our set. And boy, did Matthew Parmenter (singer for Discipline) like us! Also got to know our Louisville neighbors Isolation Tank Ensemble, who I mistakenly thought I had seen do a free show in town at a Shakespeare festival a couple of years ago. Good thing they weren’t as I didn’t really dig that other band AT ALL.
One “interesting” conversation I had was with a decrepit fellow (who I noticed sat in the front row of our set and read a book) who helpfully pointed out that we needed to add a sax player, as our trumpet player wasn’t “pulling his weight”. All while the trumpet player was standing there. Needless to say, he didn’t buy a cd. Somehow I resisted the temptation to snap his “grandpa” suspenders.
Somehow we disengaged from the festival and zipped back to the FTV clubhouse (or maybe “frat house” would be more appropriate). Many beer-enhanced touring tales unfolded as we waited for Brent’s incredible roast lamb and veggies to emerge from the oven he slaved over. Pretty cool to hang out with a bunch of pals listening (and arguing) about music, wish I lived in a world where we could do it more often. Somehow we ranged from debating the Canterbury-ness of Supersister to “how on Earth did the Grateful Dead pull off “Terrapin Station?” to the sheer musicality and arranging abilities of “soft rock” bands like Seals and Croft, Loggins and Messina, Bread, etc. Sack time around 3am.
Pleasant morning of coffee, bagels, and reading on the deck, interrupted occasionally by various attempts of laying out a game plan for the day by my bleary-eyed compatriots. Left around 10 for Day Two. Set up merch table again, chit-chatted with various attendees, and were told on multiple occasions that we were the highlight of the weekend so far.
I was fully prepared to dislike Isolation Tank Ensemble (even though they’re such nice guys), as the vast majority of modern prog bands I find myself too nit-picky to fully enjoy (probably says more about me than those unfortunate objects of my disdain), but I have to say I totally dug them, they covered quite a few bases. Just when you had them pegged as being a thrashy Hawkwind clone, they’d throw a curve and do something atmospheric. Just when you thought, okay, 90’s metal, they’d go funk. And so on. Any band that has that many arrows in their quiver, I’m down with.
PKT went on next, and did not disappoint, watching an iconoclastic bassist like Percy Jones work is always a treat. Throughout the set, you could see Percy trying to get their phenomenal drummer Kenny Grohowski to crack up (and succeeding) by playing little odd “replies” to what Kenny was doing. Throughout the set, there was an annoying hum during the quiet sections, and eventually it became obvious that it was emanating from Percy. However, they oddly didn’t attempt to do anything about it. Funny enough, I was told afterwards that it was due to Percy’s hearing aid!
We were unable to stay for Discipline’s set as Lane had to work the next day, so we reluctantly packed up and off to Atlanta we returned, but not before getting a tap on the shoulder and being presented with a couple of gift cigars from a nice guy I chatted with quite a bit earlier, whose name unfortunately ended up in that untidy black hole I laughingly refer to as my memory.
Got back to Atlanta around 10pm or so.
Watch a video of “It’s Not At All What You Think“
Rather than returning to Louisville, I elected to stay in Atlanta for a week until our flights on Sunday. Spent most of my goof off time hitting thrift stores, used book stores, and a trip to the local Music-Go-Round, where a Michael Kelly bass leapt into my arms and followed me home. Lane, Jordan and I got in a couple of good rehearsals ( necessary due to 30 minutes of new material different from our ProgDay set). On Sunday evening we trekked to Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, braved the usual dehumanizing security checks punctuated by frantic phone messages from our French compatriots Ludo and Nico, who apparently had no record of their flights that I bought them, and made our way to Stockholm (with a brief layover in Copenhagen). After landing, first stop was to secure the van I’d rented. DISASTER #1: the van was a WORK VAN, with literally only 3 seats. Rent-A-Wreck promised a usable van an hour away in Stockholm proper, but it was getting late and everything seemed too messy, so we decided to just find our lodgings and try again the next day. One $90 Uber ride later, we decamped at Hotell Bromma and decompressed. Dinner at a nearby burger place and some grocery shopping. Around 1am, we were treated to the sounds of Ludo and Nico quietly staggering into their bunk beds.
9/15: After a bit of research, Lane and I took the train back to the airport and hit the Avis counter for our latest attempt at lining up our tour transportation. Plodded through all the usual rigmarole, went to the parking lot, and realized this SUV wouldn’t work either—too small. Back to the counter, and thankfully they had one that was JUST RIGHT. After stopping for provisions, the 4 of us went to Mattias Olssen’s studio for rehearsal. Mattias is quite the genial fellow, and his studio is a TREASURE TROVE of older instruments and amps, particularly keyboards—Nico was in 7th heaven. Mattias was full of stories and history of many of the relics we couldn’t stop picking up and examining.
Found myself snapping endless pictures and sending them off to Patrick and Katsumi. Took awhile for Nico to narrow down which keys to use, but give the possibilities available, how could it not?
Eventually we got down to business and crept our way through the set. Overall, very promising, and my fears of Nico muttering “sorry, I didn’t have time to work on ___” were groundless. Pretty fascinating to hear his approach to Pat’s keys. There was no cringing. We knocked off around 8 and went back to what Nico referred to for the rest of our stay as “Prog Jail”. I was still pretty full (and tired from the flight) from lunch and stayed behind while the others went out for pizza.
9/16: Katsumi was agreeable and took the train in, and I was supposed to meet him at the station (about a 20 minute walk) and guide him to Prog Jail. It was chilly, rainy (Mr. Genius made the mistake of believing the Scandinavian weather reports he read prior to the flights and didn’t bring a jacket or rain gear), and I promptly got lost, so figured I’d retreat back to the barracks. Thankfully Katsumi has a better sense of direction or Apple Maps usage than I, and found his way to the hotel. Killed time there until leaving around 1:30 for the studio. This time it was Katsumi’s turn to get goggle-eyed at all the equipment and to express his admiration of our host and his music endeavors. There was further equipment-sorting and juggling of the stage plan (the further away from a bass amp Nico is, the happier he is), and then we buzzed through the set, stopping to tighten up the trickier parts. Both Lane and I were SLIGHTLY concerned about the idea of a duel guitar FTV line-up, but both Katsumi and Lane had done a lot of sorting out parts prior to the tour, and they gelled nicely. Called it quits around 8, returned to the hotel, and took a train to Solna, picked out a nice Italian restaurant, and chowed down. Back to Prog Jail.
9/17: If memory serves, everyone else went to town for breakfast (I still had leftover pizza) while Katsumi and I stayed behind to dope out the TV remote and watch all the baseball highlights we’d been missing out on. Left for rehearsal at 1:30. There is something supremely enjoyable watching a bunch of well-prepped musicians from faraway places come together and nail a bunch of tricky tunes they have no business being able to pull off. Things got a little tense trying to hammer “Drunkard’s Train To Westchester” into shape, lots of back-and-forth about the final section getting into the reprise, and it ended up in the “cross-your-fingers-and-hope-it-comes-out-right” bin. Went out to eat afterwards, and spent the rest of the evening at Prog Jail watching YouTube videos of Gentle Giant, Mattias’s old band Änglagård, and some bizarre videos of the pop band Jordan is involved with.
9/18 (first day of tour, Stockholm): Meandered about at Prog Jail until it was time to go to Mattias’s place to gather our equipment for tonight’s show. Then went to the venue in Sundbyberg, ENCORE. Miraculously found a spot to park RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE VENUE, and thanks to the miraculous EasyPark app, didn’t have to worry about feeding any parking meters (as if there were any in Sweden). Unloaded, set up, got to know the helpful employees and the owner. At some point I managed to lock myself out of the club as it was raining and had to hope somebody would walk by the door. Thankfully the waitress happened to notice me eventually and let me in. Had a lot of time to kill prior to the show, so napped in the lounge area until I was awakened to the good news that a fan was here and wanted to buy some cds—music to my ears! Went over to our merch table, made small talk with the 3 guys, and learned to my sorrow that hardly anybody in Scandinavia uses cash. They did promise to round up some Kronors later.
I’d been warned in advance by the owner that he’d sold a grand total of FOUR tickets leading into the show. We’d printed up a bunch of handbills promoting the show back in Atlanta that Lane handed out at various record stores while he was out and about. Watching the mere handful of attendees trickle in is a sobering feeling, one gets swamped with a big “WHAT WAS I THINKING?” mentally, especially when it’s leading into the first gig of the tour. Later, we were marched upstairs to the restaurant (also part of Encore) and treated to a delicious chicken stew plus drinks courtesy of the venue.
Eventually Mattias’s improv band took the stage. Mattias was definitely the highlight on the band, you could tell he was driving the improv (one long 30+ minute piece of music). Powerful drummer who knew when to leave out or add a part of his kit or expand on a drum pattern to keep the improv moving and not sit too long in the same space. Bass player clearly not happy with something, much frowning and fiddling with controls.
Then it was our turn. I assume it must have been so much pent-up energy that needed to be released, but we were ON FIRE. Despite playing to maybe a dozen people, we played like maniacs and put on quite the show. My jokes were landing, Katsumi and Ludo had to have lost a few pounds with their antics, and the crowd (such as they were) obviously had a good time. During the final tune, Samla Mammas Manna’s “Joosan Lost”, Katsumi made a big show of laying down and taking a nap during the 1st improv section of the tune and waking up in time to play the repeated phrase that took us into the next section. This proved to be such a hit that we kept it in the act for the rest of Katsumi’s shows. BIG cheers from the crowd after we said our goodbyes. Afterwards, lots of chit-chatting with the crowd, sold a few cds, and hung out mostly with my new friend Magnus and his wife (Magnus had done a video interview with me prior to the tour to hype our gig). Also met a fellow who liked us enough to announce that he would try to find us an addition gig in Stockholm on our way back from Germany. Yippee! After packing up, we all went to a nearby bar with Mattias for a couple of nightcaps and listen to him give us a class on how to keep an improv interesting—if he ever gets tired of playing, he’d make a good music professor! After closing down the bar, we dropped him off at his home and went back to Hotell Bromma for our final night at Prog Jail.
Watch a video of “Desire And Consequences“
9/19—Day Two, Lidköping: Somehow managed to roust ourselves out of bed and were on the road by 11am for our 4+ hour drive to Lidköping (pronounced Lid-SHOW-ping). Very pleasant, mostly country driving, interrupted by occasional pit stops and a search for ST1, a diesel additive we were all unaware of and had to research when the warning light came on. Arrived in town around 3:30 and found the venue, which was on the 3rd floor of some municipal-type building. Posters promoting the show everywhere, unlike our publicity-shy friends at Encore. Met up with Mikael Bennerhed, the guy who sent up the show and is the head honcho (I think) of a local prog rock organization who puts together shows like this 2-3 times a year. Sure wish you’d see more of this kind of gumption and initiative with the organizationally-impaired US prog fans. Showed us the hall we were playing in, met the sound crew, and were escorted to, wonders of wonders, an honest to goodness Green Room stocked with sandwiches, chips, meats, cheeses, breads, coffee, and an array of treats including Mikael’s wife’s yummy homemade brownies. Also got stare uncomprehendingly at a half page article promoting our gig in the local paper.
After setup and soundcheck, we went to our excellent hotel to check in, less than a five-minute drive away. Back to the venue, and spent some time hanging out with the opening act “Exit Stage Left”, super nice guys, and I got to check out Robin’s Sandberg bass–1st time seeing one in person. Set up our merch table, and yet another perk: there were 2-3 other vendors there who would help handle our sales while we were engaged elsewhere! Later, we all sat down to a good meal at the restaurant that was part of the venue, much merriment and toasts ensued.
Exit took the stage, and I have to say I was impressed. I’d briefly checked out their music online before the tour, and thought they were ok, nothing special. But live, they were a whole lot more exciting—the lead singer and guitarist Daniel Larsson was quite the showman, really sold the tunes, had good banter between songs. They were basically a hard rock band who could throw in some interesting twists and turns in their arrangements, they kind of reminded me of modern Nektar minus the spaciness. Bravo!
We trooped to the stage knowing we would have to bring our “A” game after such a hot show by those young upstarts. I’d say we did a good job, we were a little more fired up as there was a decent turnout this time, 30-40 people or so. My joking with the crowd was a little flat this time, so I more or less abandoned that part of our shtick. Ended up pretty pleased about our performance, and it apparently led to selling 20 or so cds and shirts. Lots of visiting peppered with the inevitable “So tell us the story behind your name French TV!” Yuck. After packing up , we made plans to celebrate the gig with our new buddies from Exit Stage Left” at a pub nearby the hotel. When we got there, it was like Florida Spring Break—tons of young people milling about drinking and partying everywhere. Found the nearly standing-room only pub, and somehow muscled our way into a table. Lots of fun trading tall tales and learning details about Swedish cops, marijuana use in Sweden, skiing, and God knows what else. Eventually said our goodbyes, got some nice band selfies, and staggered back to the house music-infested hotel for some shut-eye.
9/19—Day Three, Oslo: Got up around 8 and went downstairs to an awesome breakfast spread, I was tempted to shove some meats and whatnot in my pockets for later. After gorging myself, I decided to do a little sightseeing before we hit the road. Really lovely town, the city is next to what is the 3rd largest lake in Europe and has a large canal stretching through the middle of town. Accidentally walked into some church-related gathering (it was in a convention center-type building I thought might contain my future thrift store jacket) and spent more time than I cared to talking to an earnest church-goer who wanted to know all about me. Somehow disengaged, went back to the hotel, and gobbled down yet more breakfast with Nico and Ludo. Reluctantly left town around 10 or so for Oslo, with Lane faithfully in the driver’s seat yet again. Pretty uneventful trip again. Anticipated horrible traffic in Oslo, but it was manageable, I’ve seen much worse. The venue, MIR, was in a very pleasant part of town, urban, but a very large park nearby, very hilly. We were soon in the capable hands of Natalija, our sound person, who once we were set up put us through a very rigorous sound check—I like it! Also liked that she was out there helping us unload, a rare sight to see when it comes to surly club sound men. Gradually the Panzerpappa guys trickled in, nice guys, talked quite a with bassist Anders Krabberød . Their drummer Trond Gjellum had a very elaborate setup, Jordan actually had to veto a couple of pieces—also a rare occurrence in Drum World. After soundcheck, it was time to check in to the hotel, or, rather, the other guys, as I was staying at a different hotel with Katsumi. Stopped for a falafel wrap with Lane and Jordan, back to MIR briefly until departing to Katsumi’s hotel. Walked about 20 or so minutes, an I could swear it was all uphill. Nice pre-show prog playlist, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing “A Plague Of Lighthouse Keepers” in a good-sized bar blaring away. Set up merch table and tried to work out the dollars-to-Norwegian kronors math problems, met some fans. You’d think at my age, I’d be blasé about signing cds, but it’s still a bit of a wonder for me. Also encountered yet more incontrovertible evidence that cash in O-VAH in Scandinavia and that I better get with the program next tour, lots of jumping through hoops trying to pry money out of these Norwegian wallets.
Panzerpappa made their entrance on stage, and showed why they’re one of the better current example of challenging progressive rock out there today. Devilishly tricky compositions, not sure I could hang with them if asked. Their guitarist Jarle Storløkken was very engaging, although I had no idea what he was saying, and seemed to take the lead in guiding the band through those challenging arrangements. Left to enthusiastic applause.
We hopped on stage and put on yet another great performance, I can’t help but feel we were bummed that this would be Katsumi’s last show of the tour and decided to go out with a bang. All my goofy patter seemed to land this time, lots of laughs from the crowd. My delight at finding a washing machine in me and Katsumi’s hotel room became a running gag throughout my song introductions. Ludo in particular put on a maniacal performance. At once point, he corrected me on my pronunciation of his and Nico’s last name. I made big show of being indignant at this, the audience ate it up. We ended the show with the Samla cover, and boy, it was nice to hear some massive cheering break out when Nico played the intro. Finished the tune, said our goodbyes, bolted to the merch table, sold a batch of cds and hung out. It being a Sunday night, most of the audience as well as Panzerpappa had to work the next day and left fairly soon after the gig, so this broke our string of all us players drinking at a pub and dissecting the night’s activities. Loaded up, Lane dropped me and Katsumi off at our hotel (no mountain climbing for us this time!). Discovered to my dismay that the washing machine I had loaded up with my clothes was not a 2-way, so had to plot finding a nearby laundromat that opened early, as we need an early start in the morning. Katsumi and I celebrated the tour with a beer and reminiscing, and off to dreamland.
9/20—Day Four—the Road to Reichenbach: Woke up around 7, followed my phone while lugging my heavy wet clothes to a laundromat about a 10 minute walk away. Somehow negotiated the credit-card-only machines, took my now-dry apparel back to the hotel. Along the way I stopped for some trip munchies, a usb-c cord, and then ducked into a used books/comics/lps/cds/paperback books place that I had spied the previous day—was pleasantly shocked they were open so early. Only had 20 minutes or so to browse, so didn’t get to poke around as much as I would have liked. Kills me every time I find one of these type of shops in Europe, so many awesome comics with fantastic art that do me no good since they aren’t in English. They did have an English section, but it wasn’t as impressive as the non-English section. Attempted small talk with the proprietor, but he wasn’t particularly interested. Ended up leaving empty-handed (wish I’d had time to pore over their jazz section) and met Katsumi back at our hotel, where we awaited being picked up by the others. Or rather, I awaited, as Katsumi was staying behind for a day of sightseeing before returning to Tokyo. Our big black van arrived, and after some hugs all around, it was off to Reichenbach’s general direction. This part of the journey was going to be a bear, with a goal of 8-10 hours on the road (and sea, as we were taking a ferry from Gedser, Denmark to Rostock, Germany, home to one of my favorite German detective shows, Bukow and König). Pleasant trip, with occasional glimpses of the North Sea. Arrived at the ferry a half hour too late to catch the 6pm, which meant killing nearly 2 hours while waiting for the next one – of course, everything was closed on a Monday. Boarded, and were treated to the mall-like accouterments–first time on a ferry for me. Trip took 2 hours, then it was back on the road. Decided we’d stop around 11-11:30 pm, so found a place on Booking.com in Darsikow, Germany, the Gutshaus Darsikow. After realizing we’d probably arrive around midnight, I messaged the owner that we’d be late. On the way, we somehow got off the main highway and ended up on a road through dense woods that gradually became a one-lane dirt road. Stumbled upon what appeared to be our destination, but no lights. Somewhat farm-like area, including a kennel full of barking dogs announcing our presence. “Hey Mike, why don’t you get out and see if this is it?” (Gulp)—”Okay…” I began to envisage an angry farming greeting me with a shotgun, but instead wandered toward the silhouette of an elderly German woman who apparently spoke no English. The rest of the crew disembarked, and the woman herded us to our accommodations—very nice, best we’d seen on this tour! Staked out a bed, and I was out like a light.
9/22—To Gig, Or NOT To Gig—-I woke up before the rest of the guys as I tend to do, and, after showering and cleaning up in the grandest (and cleanest!) bathroom I’ve ever experienced, went downstairs to the 2nd-nicest breakfast of the tour. Gradually joined by the others, and after gorging ourselves, wandered about the grounds enjoying the sights. Took our mysterious back road back to the highway and proceeded to the route, about a 3-4 hour drive. Decided it might be a good idea to contact Uwe Treitinger, the owner of the venue about when soundcheck is and when to check into the hotel he provided for us and its address (no messaging, just email). Shortly I get an email with the address, plus “but the concert is tomorrow? Or?” As a chill ran up my spine, I consulted our original emails, and SONUVAGUN—the gig is TOMORROW, not TODAY! I don’t know how I got the date wrong—I think what happened was that there was a gig in Cologne where I was considering renting a venue, but ultimately rejected due to some additional fees and I got the 2 dates mixed up and I just went with it instead of double-checking. Relayed my carelessness to the others, and after debating whether to spend a day in Berlin, decided to push onward to Reichenbach. Eventually turned up at the Bergkeller Reichenbach, where our host was out front loading some stuff. After eyeing each other warily, he offered us beers and we toured the premises, and holy cow, this place is a bigger deal that I knew! The place was covered with wall-to-wall memorabilia featuring the acts who played there—practically anyone ever associated with Zappa, Crimson, and Weather Report, nearly every shredder of note, tons of metal bands—odd, because it was about the size of your average dive bar. But it’s pretty much the gateway to Poland and the Czech Republic and Austria, so it’s super-convenient to bands headed in that direction. Told us tons of wild stories about dealing with various acts, and had a good laugh about us (well, me) getting the date wrong–”MUSICANS!–always a problem!”, which became our motto for the rest of the tour. After a round of Jägermeisters and more poring over the array of signed posters and a quick history of post-war Eastern Germany and its current ecomomic and political difficulties, we decided to head for the nearest city, Zwickau, birthplace of composer Robert Shumann whose statue we visited. Lots of wadering about, then had dinner at an American-style diner, serenaded by various 50’s icons who I had to identify to my younger cohorts. More wandering and found a THRIFT STORE, where I found my elusive zip-front jacket. Sadly, I continue to dream of the black leather jacket that got away—Ludo and I would have made for a dangerous-looking pair. Said goodbye to Zwickau and headed for our hotel, Agrarhof Gospersgrun. Got in the general vicinity, then had to resort to calling the owner who helpfully drove out to meet and guide us to our country lodgings. Turned out this place was also a horse stable, I guess their bread and butter is hosting school outings for horse riding. Very nice place. Americans in one unit, French brothers next door. Rigged up my mp3 player to the house system and introduced Lane and Jordan to Trettioåriga Kriget (big thumbs up) and Captain Beyond (polite interest). Lots of reading, then off to sleep.
9/23—REICHENBACH, ACTUAL GIG: I have to say this was one of the most enjoyable waking to the horrors of the day’s coming hassles I’ve experienced—excellent view of the countryside from my window. Coffe and reading-I’ve neglected to mention my choice of book: Gore Vidal’s „Creation“. Set around 500 BC during the Persian Empire, it’s about a (fictional) half Persia/half Greek old blind man reciting his memoirs to his nephew. The old man relates having tried in vain to get three generations of Perian kings to wash their empire’s hands of Greek wars and affairs and concentrate on the empires to the East, namely India and the collection of kingdoms that eventually became China. Along the way, he encounters the Buddha, Confucious, and other famous historical figures. 2nd reading for me, highly recommended. After the others got up, we (foolishly, as it turned out) checked out of the hotel and ambled our way to town, picked up picnic-type provisions, and mostly killed the afternoon in a lovely park. Weather was gorgeous if slightly chilly, spent an inordant amount of time staring at cloud formations and watched two sets of clouds trying to decide whether to merge or not (ultimately they didn’t). Around 4, it was time to invade Bergkeller Reichenbach for setup and soundcheck. Uwe had a nice spread waiting for us as well as a nice backline, including a CUBE drum set, which is a boutique company based in nearby Plauen, Saxony. Jordan seemed impressed, and that’s good enough for me. At one point I asked Uwe about tonight’s hotel and whether we needed to check in. Once he understood what I was saying, he rolled his eyes and explained that we were staying at the same place we did last night, you musicans. Yet more miscommunication—we were under the impression the preious night’s hotel was a last-minute thing he found when we arrived a day early. After assuring us we were set for tonight (insert ominous, forboding music here), we did a quick soundcheck with Uwe’s soundman. An hour or so later, Uwe fired up his grill, and along with the first wave of attendees, we were treated to a cookout of beer and grilled sausages and more beer—it was probably the most casual approach to a gig ever for me, it was more of a neighborhood happening rather than a formal concert—very cool!
After a lot of enjoyable chit-chat with some of the audience and a vigorous introduction (in German, so no idea what was said) by Uwe, we went into attack mode. I can honestly say this was the most enthusiastic audience I have ever encountered. You know how sometimes as a band if you want to get a crowd going, if something is in a nice 4/4 and somewhat danceable, you clap your hands and hopefully the audience picks up on it and all parties are satisfied until the inevitable next section ruins everything? This crowd was clapping ON THEIR OWN, to tunes they likely hadn’t heard before. Chanting, yelling, rocking to-and-fro, devil horns galore; the energy was off the charts, which in turn makes us guys on stage want to put out more. It was the best way imaginable to end the tour, smiles all around the stage. Midway through, another round of Jägermeisters found their way on stage and were quickly downed by the eager lunatics occupying it.
We ended with our Samla Mannas Manna cover, and the cheering was LOUD and non-stop. I attempted to extricate ourselves by yelling „ WE’RE OUT OF TUNES! THAT’S ALL WE KNOW!“ But I was answered with deafening chants from the audience: MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE! It was like being at a soccer match! The next thing I knew, the other guys went into a spacy improv which I gradully joined. It was very appropriate, it kind of reminded me of something those German space-rock bands like Grobschnitt or Guru Guru would do, very tribal and spaced out—sure wish I had a recording, it was so different to our usual tightly-arranged, vigorous output. Ludo cleverly inserted a big quote from Ode to Joy, and we decided this was the perfect ending. Incredible applause, Uwe seemed pretty pleased at the night’s proceedings. Lots of conversation at the merch table (and lots of merch moved). Finally loaded up and said our goodbyes and returned to our hotel. LOCKED. 3 frantic, unsuccessful phone calls to the hotel owner and Uwe at the club later, we found ourselves driving another hour away north to Lepzig, found a new hotel (Voyage Pension, thank you booking.com), and passed out.
9/24—Malmö (or, What To Do When The War Is Over?): Staggered out of bed knowing that we had a grueling trip ahead of us, probably 8-10 hours with a goal of reaching either Copenhagen or Malmö. Stocked up on local road food, and continued the expedition, with Lane continuing to occupy the driver’s seat. This time, we reached the ferry at Rostock reasonably early, around 4, in time for the early trip. 2 hours later, back in good old Gedser and on to Malmö; thanks to Lane’s gas pedal expertise, we were bypassing Copenhagen. Arrived in Malmö and found our hostel, Rut & Ragnar’s Vandrarhem, where we encountered a deck clerk whose vocal volume, vocabulary, and mannerisms enlivened many a dull moment during the rest of our voyage with our various attempts at imitating him or applying his outbursts to odd situations. He would have been the ideal commandant of a labor camp. After securing our rooms (Jordan drew the short straw and parked in a communal room), the others went out to see the sights while I staked out a bed and did more reading until lights out.
9/25—ON TO STOCKHOLM ONCE AGAIN: A day in Malmö for sightseeing, imagine that! Checked out of the hostel, sadly our friend the clerk was nowhere to be found. After a big breakfast with Nico at a nearby cafe, our 1st stop: trying to convince a cd/lp/book/comic book store down the street how wise it would be to trade some of his wares for some big-selling French TV cds. Well, after doing his research, he wasn’t buying, claiming we were too “small”. Ouch. Needless to say, I wasn’t about to grace his cash register with any purchases despite seeing a bunch of stuff I would have liked. Next stop was a musical equipment shop about a 20 minute walk away, interrupted by a pit stop at a local pharmacy in search of meds to cope with the nagging cold I’d been dealing with. Along the way, we stumbled upon a small figurine shop that Lane (who had joined Nico and me at this point) decided would be a good place to purchase a cat figurine for his wife Jaime. We waited outside, and when it became apparent he wasn’t coming out any time soon, pushed on to the store. Lots of beautiful high-end stuff, I’m not entirely sure why I was there, it’s not like I had room in my luggage for something big! Later joined by Lane, who had a wild tall to tell about his encounter at the figurine shop: the old woman who owned the place was actually a trapeze artist in her youth who had actually ridden a unicycle across a tight wire connected to the Space Needle at the 1962 World’s Fair in Seattle. She apparently had also had a career in burlesque, and had in later years sold a figurine to the King of Sweden. All this was told to Lane by her son, who showed him a bunch of newspaper clippings about the old woman, whom Lane said seemed bored by all the attention and had no interest in joining in the conversation about her exploits. Boy, the people you meet by accident on tour…
Got separated from the others, as I attempted to find a bookstore (I have a hit-and-miss relationship with Google Maps walking routes, as established earlier). Finally tracked it down, and of course there were no books in English—curses! After yet more walking around and seeing the sights, I joined the others at a very cool park, very kid-friendly with all kinds of weird things to look at, where we chilled until it was time to head for Stockholm. Jumped into the van, goodbye Malmö, hello (again) Stockholm. Did a lot of walking around sightseeing, at one point the clouds opened and we huddled under an awning next to one of their 7-11s, where, after being unable to agree on a restaurant, settled for raiding the 7-11 for wraps and various other necessities (Jordan made his usual pilgrimage to the candy aisle in search of untried treats). Took the train back to Anker Hotel, where we plugged Ludo into a single room where he couldn’t do any further damage to anyone’s sleep cycle (especially Nico, who had to bear the brunt of Ludo’s volcanic snoring throughout the tour).
9/26—The Tying Up of Loose Ends: Excellent hotel breakfast while finishing my book, which I then stashed in the lobby for a lucky English-reader to discover. We then decided to spend the morning in downtown Stockholm before rendezvousing with Mattias to return his equipment around 3. Zeroed in on a record store to unload more French TV cds. Despite the good taste shown by the proprietor while playing Deep Purple’s “Come Taste The Band” over his sound system, I was rebuffed once again in my attempts to inflict the music of French TV onto unwary Swedish music aficionados. Oddly, there was also a record store NEXT DOOR to this one, run by a woman with much better taste and less of a fear of the unknown. Thankfully Lane and Jordan “greased the skids” and plied her with small talk, sparing her my usual blunt “here’s what you need to do, pal” onslaught. French TV cds in Swedish record store—CHECK! Walked out with a recent Steeleye Span, Traffic at the BBC, a live Bill Evans disc, and a Swedish jazz cd she recommended whose name escapes me.
Off on Mattias-ville, unfortunately we were late and he had a birthday party to attend in half an hour, so we weren’t able to regale him with our tales in detail. He was just coming off a short tour himself with the legendary Swedish prog band Ragnarök. Hugs all around and back to the van. After some debate on the next course of action, I timidly suggested me hitting an English language book store to replace the book I had just finished. Somehow Lane got us there about 10 minutes before closing. They dropped me off as parking was a little squirrely, I ran in, grabbed a Harlan Ellison collection (it was slim pickings and I was in a hurry), and after a bit of scary near-misses, they collected me up and we spend some time in yet another interesting park before dinner. This time, we had our final meal together in the pizza place they had dined at on our 2nd day here. Jolly if not bittersweet mood to the proceedings, with many toasts being raised. Back to hotel and made preparations for the busy day awaiting us early in the morning. A final drink with Nico before a mostly sleepless night. Might as well have had Ludo in the room snoring away!
9/27—Mad Dash After Mad Dash, Punctuated With Lots Of Sitting Around: Up around 6, gobbled down breakfast, jump in van, drive 30 minutes to airport, drop off van, collect luggage, drop off oversize stuff, run to gate, 30 minutes of TSA nonsense, board plane, etc etc etc, no need to assault you with yet more variations of this. Arrived in Atlanta 12 hours later, yet more bus/train escapades before arriving at Lanes house around 7 or so.
A CONCLUSION, OF SORTS: What to say? Well, a sense of accomplishment, and a thumb in the eye to all the naysayers who claim that such shenanigans are wasted effort, that nobody likes prog, better to stay home and be bitter. Yes, I lose money doing this stuff, but thankfully I’ve stashed enough away to get away with pulling capers like this off without too much heartbreak. And I’ve now got extra memories to call up when I’m laying in that Hospital Room Of Finality in the future, wondering about all the time on this planet I’ve squandered. Thankfully I have guys like Lane, Jordan, Nico, Ludo, Pat, Jeff, Brent, Chris, as well as a ton of others (especially my long-suffering wife Eileen) who make these invasions possible.
