Welcome to Part II of the tour.

We have started to notice that cut-off denim jackets covered with sew-on patches are the current fashion statement on the West Coast and there is also a demand for vinyl. This may be because marijuana is legal in many states and is the only explanation for this.

11th October

The drive down to Portland, Oregon is seven hours but the scenery is stunning. Our journey is only interrupted by the occasional stop at a diner or to replace more bus bulbs. On arriving at the Hawthorne Theatre we unload the gear and set up ready for sound-check. After throwing together a merch stand we head off for some food.
At the crossing outside the theatre we are approached by a floaty hippy chick who advises us that there is an excellent Vietnamese restaurant just down the road in the hippy quarter. She also advises us that jaywalking is illegal and that her name is Moonflower. That, I’m afraid, cannot be a real name but is nonetheless memorable.
Upon entry to the restaurant we are seated at a large circular table and given tea in funny little bowls. The tea is a curious green colour and I therefore conclude that it is ‘green tea’. Something I know healthy people drink and that should not be welcomed by a touring rock band. It is actually quite pleasant in a watery way but may be enhanced with some vodka. The ordering of food is a problem as not one of us can a) speak Vietnamese, b) read Vietnamese or c) understand Vietnamese. With this in mind we all order some soup. Yes, soup. The waiter has instructed us in a form of Vietnamese sign language that soup is plentiful. At this point Brian begins to play drums to an imaginary song using some ornate chopsticks that are consequently dropped.

In fact what the waiter actually tried to convey was that soup courses are not starters and are intended to feed a whole party. We had ordered no less than twenty-eight litres of various soups. On top of that we had also ordered a main course. Each. These we were obviously unable to finish and the waiter duly supplied us with some boxes to pack our stuff into. These were then packed onto the bus to fester for the night before consumption on the road to Reno. Somewhere in the Nevada Desert the very next day, a rock band would be consuming cold ginger chicken and beef strips doused in soup while travelling at eighty miles an hour.

There is a good audience and the gig is well received. This is reflected by the merch’ sales although I do still keep being asked if we have any vinyl for sale. This is like going to a computer exhibition and requesting an abacus. In Portland digital music media is considered witchcraft and is punishable by being draped over a pickup truck bonnet and flayed with a jute bag for twenty days and nights.
As we’re packing down the gear I try and exit the fire exit at the back of the stage and find it locked. A good shouldering manages to open it and I burst through into the parking lot to be met by a startled cameraman and a bloke with a boom mic’. And some very bright lights. I have accidentally gatecrashed Raven’s Oregon TV debut. Sorry guys.
Portland is a very pleasant place and somewhere I would like to stay a little longer. Still, we’re heading off to Reno tonight. It’s a ten hour drive so half tonight and half tomorrow.

12th October

We’re heading for the Nevada Desert. Yet again the scenery is endless amazing vistas and as we touch the top of California I have a little smile as we pass signs reading ‘Welcome to California’. I’ve never been to California until now. We pull in at a truckstop that boasts what must be the best truckstop view anywhere. Period. We’re eating fishburgers at the foot of Mount Shasta. Native Americans first settled here approximately seven thousand years Before Café. It’s a big volcano that Shasta and must’ve been awfully hard to erect wigwams on.

Karl has spotted a drain on the parking lot that is cast with the words ‘Storm Drain’. He’s of the considered opinion that this would be an excellent name for a metal band and we put our heads together and come up with a title for the new band’s first album. ‘Overflow’. We also decide on an acoustic set that we may title ‘Storm Drain – Unblocked’. As we continue on our journey I note Chas’s purchases from the truckstop are a bottle of ‘Lifewater’ and a ‘Promax’ vitamin cereal bar with superfruits. These are indeed a bottle of squash and a flapjack. Americans love that sort of thing. Lifewater must be different from plain water in that it sustains life in a more efficient way. I think David Attenborough should be alerted to this development.

We arrive in Reno and find our hotel which is a very high one and we’re on the twenty-somethingth floor. It’s called Harrah’s so Hooray for Harrah’s because the views over Reno are simply stunning and we’re only a few hundred yards from the gig. Jub Jub’s has been open precisely no nights at all and tonight is the first gig. It’s almost finished and there are only several carpenters remaining to complete the stage area. We’re helped with the load- in by some of the staff, one of which we have decided to call ‘Supercrew’. He’s dressed in a full toolroll and comes complete with more attachments than a Swiss army knife. He would have fitted right in at Spokane as he appears to be also adorned with a portable welding rig. He has a number of ‘special’ laminate passes on his person. Why a labourer in a club needs a VIP pass for Alice Cooper’s Poison tour defeats me. He also proudly wears a laminate VIP pass for Iron Maiden who have never been to this club as this is the first night. Unless they did a quicky before we got here for the chippies? Unlikely. Anyway, laminates are so last year it’s unbelievable man. Now it’s all computerised and crew are admitted only by retina-recognition systems and glowing radioactive DNA wristbands. Or by knocking the door.

While setting up the merch’ stand we are approached by a portly gentleman who extends his hand as a gesture of friendship and announces that he raises chickens. He then proceeds to ask us if we like wild horses. This outburst is met with an eerie silence. He does nevertheless purchase a T-shirt.
Raven hit the stage at about eleven and all is going swimmingly until an over-excited fan climbs the stage and poses with the band for pictures. During a song. For a long time. Raven’s Mark eventually tires of this and swings his headstock at the guy who then falls into the fist of John and an onstage brawl begins and ends swiftly as the guy is launched backwards off the stage, although it’s obvious he trips just before John punches him. Hard. Between the eyes. During the chorus of ‘On and On’ from their best album. He definitely tripped. Surprisingly, after the ten-foot fall, the lad is OK and has just lost his glasses and not suffered a broken neck as onlookers predicted he may have. He’s then escorted out by a large bouncer with much whining and Raven retire to the dressing room which is very nearly complete with the 2”x4” batons only slightly visible and the loo working at half-hourly intervals. A ceiling is planned for the New Year.
Diamond Head hit the stage at midnight and there is no brawling, just a great gig that’s well executed in what will undoubtedly become Reno’s premier rock club. They also sell very nice T-shirts with a funny monkey face on the front. Tomorrow is a day off. In fact the only day off in the schedule and we can either head for San Francisco a day early or hang in Reno for a day. We opt to hang in Reno.

13th October

Reno really is lovely. Like a little Las Vegas. We need to do some laundry and so head for the local launderette with our bags. Also Chas has left his cheat-sheet folder of lyrics at Jub Jubs and we must ensure it is found. The decision is made to share machines and my socks and pants end up swirling around with Ed’s smalls. This is disturbing for us both so we decide that the best course of action is to abscond to Jub Jub’s for a Bloody Mary and a search for the folder, leaving Karl in charge of pants and sock reclamation and pairing. The Bloody Marys arrive in pint glasses half filled with vodka and topped up with tomato juice, garnished with a selection of five-a-day items which will ensure our vitality. It’s better than ‘Lifewater’ on a variety of levels and it does contain some water albeit in the form of vodka.

We were pissed. No two ways about it. The return journey to Laundry Land took an age and pairing socks seemed far too difficult so, as long as we had some each we were not that concerned as trousers cover socks anyway. We did however ensure our pants were reunited with their rightful owners.

Raven’s John Gallagher has informed us that there’s a guitar shop in Reno where there’s the finest collection of rare guitars in all of North America. That’s one hell of a claim but we’re keen to confirm this and, all aboard the bus head for Greg Golden’s Bizarre Guitar. We burst in like a kids at a toy shop only to find that it’s a purveyor of guitars much like any other guitar superstore in any city. That is, until the boss takes an interest in the fact Diamond Head are on the south side of his counter and invites us to see his ‘private collection of premier instruments’. We’re led down to a vault deep in the bedrock of the Nevada Desert to view eight hundred of the world’s most expensive and rare guitars. ’57 Les Paul Gold Tops, ’59 Les Pauls, ’54 Strats, you name it and he has it. Simple as that. I’ve never seen a collection like it in my life and nor will I again. It is, without a doubt THE best collection of THE best and most sought-after guitars in the world. If you put every one of the best guitars in any collection in the UK all under one roof you couldn’t match this little lot.

Many thanks to Greg Golden and his staff at Bizarre Guitar for allowing us access to the most amazing display of guitars anywhere. And he gave us very lovely T-shirts that are too nice to wear. This was absolutely one of the highlights of the whole tour.

Brian did consider making an offer for one of Greg’s ’59 Les Pauls. The cheapest he would let one of the nice ones go for was $350,000. Brian did consider this for approximately no seconds at all and decided that he didn’t need another Les Paul at the moment. I also considered a ’54 Strat’. I considered it in a ‘why I can’t afford a guitar costing more than four times an average detached house in the UK’ kind of way. It was actually the sixth commercially produced Strat’ and in ‘as new’ condition complete with provenance. There were also original ‘Nocasters’ and ‘Broadcasters’ in there. Most folk have never heard of ‘em let alone seen one.

Brian has always been an aficionado of the humbucker and has used a number of guitars featuring such pickup configurations. The early stuff was the white Gibson Flying V (which he still owns) and he’s subsequently used all kinds including a few custom Jaydees (by the Birmingham luthier John Diggins, who made Tony Iommi’s ‘Number One’ SG, some of Angus and Malcolm’s guitars, Mark King’s Supernatural etc.) and various PRS’s, but his heart and ear is always with his trusty Les Paul Standards. He, like me, prefers a Taylor as a choice of acoustic. On the tour he used his favourite Les Paul – a ’79 Tobacco Standard that we’ve always referred to as ‘The Freak of Nature’. Called so because, looking at it years ago, it should’ve been unplayable as the frets were so fekkered. It’s always played better than most ‘59’s and must’ve been one of those ‘good ‘uns’ we all seek. Totally standard (apart from the machine-heads are now Grovers) so no EMG 81’s in this old chap. I remember the purchase of it and, not long after, I bought a Les Paul Heritage Elite and Bri’s was still better. The Freak.

Abbz normally plays a pristine’78 Tobacco Les Paul Standard (pristine until it fell over in Oklahoma) but he also uses a John Suhr and a PRS when the mood takes. Eddy uses a bass made of old park benches and bits of prams from Poland. He does own a Sadowski and a nice old Fender Jazz but both of these are currently in use as bird tables. A blue sunburst bird table is just sheer joy for his feathered friends.

After being knocked sidewards at Bizarre Guitar we have, on Karl’s recommendation, made our way to Virginia City.
This is not a city as you would have in mind, it is really only one street in the middle of some mountains in the desert. But what a street! Virginia City is the home of the Gold Rush and exists today much as it did in the nineteenth century.

Proper cowboy place with saloons, boardwalks and oldy Western movie kinda stuff but original. We take refreshments in the form of cinnamon whisky in the (quaintly named) ‘Bucket of Blood’. A bar unchanged since it opened in the eighteen-hundreds apart from they do now sell mugs. If ever you’re in Virginia City it’s next to the place where Mark Twain penned Huckleberry Finn.

 
 

On our return to Reno we make ourselves comfortable in Doc Holliday’s Saloon opposite the hotel, and drink for a while and play darts. Brian signs a dollar bill to put behind the bar with the other thousand or so that are wedged in the frames and mirrors.
The next gig is the 15th at the DNA Lounge in San Francisco. San Francisco is in California on the coast, which means it’s a really long way away. This means I can sleep on the bus for ages.

15th October

We’re now nearly in San Francisco and I’m rudely awakened from my slumber by Bri’s phone. I can tell by the way he’s speaking in his best phone voice that it could be an important call. It is. It’s Lars on the other end and he has every intention of coming to the gig.

As it’s me who’s responsible for the guestlist at the venues I must make sure that he’s included, as a member of Metallica being refused entry on the door may be a bit embarrassing. I must not, however, put ‘Lars + 1’ on the list as that would be a bit of a publicity stunt and so, from hereon, we refer to Lars as the ‘important guest’. Also, if he can’t make it we won’t look like we’ve been stood up. As we cross a bridge into SF with the Golden Gate Bridge in clear view across the bay, Chas asks if we’re on the Golden Gate Bridge. He has blonde hair. He also is interested in the intro’ music Diamond Head use (Holst’s Planet Suite – Mars) and asks how come they chose the theme from Star Wars. This makes us laugh. This makes us laugh a very great deal and in a giggly ‘back- of-the classroom’ way like when you saw the teacher’s knickers when she bent down.

I’ve met Lars before. In fact he married our friend (and a Stourbridge lass) Deb’ way back in the ‘eighties. Deb’ worked for my Dad at the Birmingham Gun Barrel Company and left suddenly to fly to Denmark to be with Lars immediately after Cliff Burton’s untimely demise.
Deb’ was a familiar face in the old studio days and I remember my Dad bringing back her letter of resignation. It was at this point that I realised she worked for my Dad and, although we hung out at the studio, I’d never known she worked at the Gun Barrel. Small world.
The Important Guest has always paid great respect to Brian and, as the founder and force behind one of the biggest bands on the planet – Metallica, that’s true testament to the path forged by this globally acknowledged pioneer of heavy metal.

As we arrive at the DNA Lounge we are stuck for parking the truck so we dump it outside the loading doors and seek advice. The gentleman who assists us is a giant. And I mean a GIANT. At 6’8” and built like a rhino you wouldn’t want to try your luck. This was Arlo, a lovely lad who wears a leather utility kilt and you wouldn’t take the piss. He’s named after Arlo Guthrie as he was conceived at a festival where Guthrie played and his Mum accompanied on an acoustic guitar. That’s great! And a nicer bloke you couldn’t meet.

Load-in is easy and the sound-check is fine. We are a bit late so eating is a bit speedy and the merch’ is hastily organised. We’re running low on Large baseball shirts already. Raven’s truck rocks up soon after and their gear is unloaded almost single-handedly by Arlo (including lead-lined 4 x 12 cabs that are twice the weight of a stock Marshall 4 x 12) who is keen to get the show running smoothly.
As sure as yer like Lars rocks up with his bird, the model Jessica Miller and his son, Miles. Ms Miller is extremely tall and stunning. Much taller than Lars. And so is Miles. The pleasantries are exchanged in the bar and a number of fans clock the presence of (another) Rock God. Still, Brian is unfazed and has a natter with Lars over a pint.
As the intro’ is played the agent, Dean, is on stage messing with Bri’s Les Paul for some reason unbeknown to us. A quick bollocking from Bri’ from the balcony sends Dean on his way and the show is starting ……

The opening chords are delivered only in sign language and there’s a problem. A problem in San Francisco with Lars by the sound desk avidly watching. That’s a caper! It’s what we know as a ‘malfunction’. In the same way Glenda Jackson had a wardrobe malfunction at that awards ceremony when her tit fell out. Or was that Janet Jackson?
A quick check reveals a lead has strayed from it’s home in the back of Bri’s effects rack and the rumble of the Engl amps soon puts a stop to any doubters. Still, it entails a restart of the first tune which is a bit embarrassing. Halfway through the first song all of this is forgotten and the punters are lovin’ it! ‘Am I Evil’ produces rapturous applause (as usual) and the whole gig is a mighty success. Great sound and a great venue!
At the end I blag some T-shirts and dog-tags and we’re on our way. Goodbye Lars and goodbye Arlo. Load up and two hours drive to a hotel in the middle of nowhere so it’s less driving tomorrow to Santa Ana. Still gonna be eight hours driving tomorrow though.

San Francisco was great! What with Lars rockin’ up, seeing a real police chase go past with screeching tyres and sirens wailing and a complimentary Cobb salad, what could’ve been better? I’ll tell you – getting to the hotel before 05.00hrs. That’s what could’ve been better. Nevertheless, as the hotel was so nicely appointed, Karl and myself took a dip in the pool. The only time I’ve ever been in a pool during a tremor, which was weird and shook my towel off the railings. Eddy is never up in time for the pool and, in fact, never even felt that tremor. Or saw the pool.
We bought a few DVD’s in SF to watch on the bus. We bought them from one of those pawn shops like Cash Converters in the UK (except the American equivalent sells hand-guns and automatic assault rifles). With my seat reclined I was unable to watch the big telly so I slept all the way through LA to Santa Ana. This didn’t matter as I’d seen the movie before and we were gonna be back in LA the next day anyway. I do remember waking from my slumber just long enough to see the traffic gridlock in LA.

16th October

We’re at Malone’s in Santa Ana. Been to the hotel and it’s a comfy and clean place with nice rooms. It’s amazing how many times our cases come in and out of that bus. With our packing practice we’ve (nearly) nailed it. The cases are loaded in last thing after the previous night, unloaded at the hotel and then loaded back in for the next gig. This is an ideal situation. In practice, the bags get loaded near the doors then have to be removed for some reason such as going to the venue before the hotel. They are then reloaded, driven to the hotel and then removed. This is all hindered by the presence of ‘The Pointless Box’ that the Engls came in. On occasions we remove the luggage and drop it at the hotel, then unload at the gig. This means we can load the bus after the gig and pack the cases the next morning. This rarely happens as a snare drum will fall on someone’s head or there’s something at the back of the load that Chas needs urgently, such as hair products or Trail Mix. I actually see my suitcase wheels have worn down to little more than bobbins.
The load-in is through the front doors and there are two stages. Talking to the guitarist for one of the support bands I vaguely ask if he’s ever been to England. He replies with a solid ‘Yes’ and, upon further questioning, it transpires he’s Madonna’s guitarist and this is his ‘hobby’ band. Can’t say fairer than that! Nice bloke and has some choice gear as well.
As the gig progresses to the obvious ‘Am I Evil’ I note a punter who sought Bri’s autograph this afternoon. Brian autographed an early and mint pressing of ‘Borrowed Time’ for him. He’s in the thick of the mosh and still clutching the autographed sleeve which is now just a clump of damp cardboard with no vinyl disc. He seems to be having a good night though, which is the main thing.
We’re off to LA tomorrow – should be a stormer!

Next time – We do LA, San Diego and the legendary Vamp’d in ‘Vegas where we see some other famous faces, Ed’ threatens me with a gun over a game of chess and more scenery that’s straight from an Eagles album cover. Also the Las Vegas Hilton and Chas’s episode-cum-scrap with Howard Leese (the old bloke from Heart).