The photograph is of Mirror 1 from Mirror 2 with your humble narrator holding the IPad…and a wardrobe…

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 11. Prague to Vienna.

Last night’s show at Cafe V. Lese had to be my favourite of the tour so far.
The small basement venue was packed to capacity and the connection between us on stage and the 200 or so people watching was so intense, I swear the Earth moved ( sorry for the tired analogy).
Things sure have changed in the Czech capital since our first show there two decades ago, and it’s hard to equate the way things were before the Velvet Revolution with the glorious abandonment we encounter there now.
In fact the first time we found ourselves heading for Prague was in 1989 after a wrong turning on a dark night in deepest Hungary.
The shiny highways didn’t exist at that time and somehow we found ourselves on a deserted road aiming for the frontier with Czechoslovakia.
It took a startled looking man in uniform , waving a torch, to show us the error of our ways and we were able to make a U- turn before tying ourselves up in barbed wire and bureaucracy.
This memory leads me to my most vivid Cold War recollection when I was playing a solo set as the opener for Skinny Puppy in 1988.
We’d just played in Sweden and the destination was Berlin, which necessitated a ferry to Stralsund in EAST Germany and an obedient drive down a “corridor “ highway to the reluctantly walled ‘island’ of West Berlin.
With The Pink Dots, we had made the journey on numerous occasions and,while the spectacle of seeing our passports on an aerial conveyor belt seemed like an unnecessary pantomime, we usually reached Berlin with no issues.
With Skinny Puppy, things were different.
I guess it was that brief break in Wittenberg that caused the problem. There was a huge depot there with tanks. Many many tanks.
Unwisely a video camera materialised and a spontaneous home movie was made…with tanks.
Do not get me wrong. These tanks were behind a high impenetrable fence so there were no close-ups or selfies but when we reached the exit of East Germany, it was as if the border guards KNEW where we’d been. For two hours they searched the bus.There were floodlights, dogs, pointless interrogations that failed to make it through the language barrier….on and on and on…
And, absurdly, they failed to find the video camera.
Eventually we limped on to the next border which was for West Berlin, manned by WEST German border guards.
Normally this was a place where the weary traveller would be waved through – but not on this occasion.
Our warm welcome to the free World was another full on search for over an hour resulting in the confiscation of a Swiss Army knife.
Draw your own conclusions. Had the East Germans simply phoned the West Germans?
Still I’ll take a lukewarm Peace over a Cold War any time..
The beautiful city of Vienna awaits us tonight. We hope to see you there!

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 49. Budapest to Munich.

Yesterday was that day of the month which always causes me to feel a little uneasy. Maybe it was the awareness of my unlucky number that led to that string of small tragedies in the hotel’s breakfast room in Vienna, but events did nothing to dampen my superstitious nature.
I’ll keep it short – I wanted a simple cup of tea.
None of the tea bags seemed familiar so I had to test the essence of each one first, at last identifying the label that seemed closest to plain old English Breakfast tea (when it comes to tea, I’m tediously unadventurous).
I put a little milk into my cup, lowered the tea bag, and opted for the large silver dispenser that looked likeliest to give me boiling water. That was my first mistake.
A very dark brown liquid resembling coffee was released into my cup, forcing me to temporarily abandon my mission.
I started again. A new cup, a little milk , a different dispenser.
To my horror, the liquid in my cup was turning pink! I’d accidentally chosen one of those horrible fruit tea bags. Control, alt, delete….
I tried again, perhaps third time lucky…
A new cup, a little milk, the correct teabag, the correct dispenser and…
This is painful. I missed and flooded the saucer with boiling water.
Eventually I was successful with desire for a morning cuppa as a result of the same bloody mindedness that sees me through 19 consecutive shows.
Show number 10 of this European adventure in Budapest was ultimately very rewarding with a fine night in a sold out venue.
Even so, previous outings to Hungary haven’t always reaped the same reward.
I’ll never forget our second outing to Debrecen maybe 15 years ago.
To be invited a second time to that Eastern city was in itself surprising, as the first show in a huge open space, bathing in neon lights, had attracted a crowd of perhaps 40 people.
Somehow we sensed trouble when, just a day before the second appointment, we were informed of a change of venue.
It’s never a good sign, but the scenario looked much darker when we actually reached that second venue only to find a note on the door directing us to a THIRD
one.
As with the unfortunate cup of tea, we briefly pondered on the possibility that maybe it would be a case of “third time lucky.“
Like the tea, it wasn’t . Our audience of around 12 people were already there, surprised to see a band suddenly humping amplifiers into their quiet, sacred space. A few of them stayed to watch us, most of them fled….
See you in Munich!

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 48. Vienna to Budapest.

Apologies to all for the confusing change in the numbering of days. I added the American diary to the European entries as it is technically, the same tour, and it allows me to avoid my unlucky number. Superstition is a cruel mistress.
I’m happy to report that the Dots had their finest show in Vienna last night.
I confess there was a sense of trepidation as we approached the city on a Sunday afternoon for we had never really experienced much joy in the Austrian capital, but the turnout and reception we received literally floored us. A big thank you to all who came, and to Walter for making it happen.
As I type I’m reminded of a rare occasion when we enjoyed more than just a day in beautiful Vienna.
It was in 1994 when Spring was at it’s peak and the parks and palaces basked in the glorious sunshine.
For the Pink Dots it was our one bid to make it on to the small screen with a professional video shoot.
Our old friend Klaus fixed it as he worked at Austrian National TV, and it was an opportunity we never thought would come our way.
1994 was the heyday of MTV. Back then, if that channel picked up on a video of an artist or band, it had the power to bring fame and fortune overnight.
Consequently, record labels were content to spend six figure sums on the bands they thought were the likeliest to rake in enough cash to repay their investment many times over.
Alas, we were not considered to be that kind of hot property.
We chose the song “Siren” as our likeliest route to stardom. It was catchy, quirky and could have been a neat soundtrack for a cat food commercial if it were not for the extended medieval outro on the harmonium.
In the event, the dark half of the song was faded for the video and all the attention was paid to the words about a regular siren on a rock named “Sheba”.
The storyboard was complex. One dramatic scene followed by another. There’s a part where the whole band is lying down in the shape of a wheel covered by leaves.
I did my best Johnny Depp impersonation with the necessary lip movements and hand gestures, but I guess the mini-movie’s fate was sealed with the nude interval near the end.
It was a re-enactment of that famous scene from “The Shining” where Jack Nicholson hugs a girl fresh out of the bath, only for the target of his desire to suddenly age around 100 years, causing him to flee screaming.
It was 1994. Such a spectacle was far too much for the man with the blue pencil.
Our appointment with stardom was cancelled and,to be honest, I’m happy with that.
The “Siren” video shoot remains one of the kindest and most generous offers we ever enjoyed at a time when nobody went anywhere without that “big bucks promotion “.
A fun day with glorious weather, and there is value in the finished film despite the lack of commercial potential.
Sadly (for us), last night’s show was the only one Klaus has missed in his home city.Don’t feel sorry for him – he’s on vacation in Thailand right now, so we’ll raise our glasses to him in Budapest tonight. Cheers buddy!

Sheba waits for the unwary in the picture below..

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 50 Munich to Ljubljana.

Although the attendance was a little sparse at the Backstage Club in Munich, we enjoyed ourselves with an energised performance last night.
I confess to imbibing a can of Red Bull before the show which surely helped, although I have the aftertaste of liquefied toothpaste soaked in minty syrup even as I type this missive, 12 hours later.
Today’s adventure is our first crossing of the Alps to the capital of Slovenia.
If all goes well, it’s a mere 4 hours down the highway which,for us, is the equivalent of a morning stroll.
I made this journey once before on that famous Skinny Puppy Tour back in 1988, around 3 years before they finished the highway across the border.
We were in a nightliner (a coach used by bands) and the journey went smoothly until we reached the terrifying Loibl Pass.
To use an analogy, take a long wire and bend it as much as you can until it resembles the most complicated character in the Arabic alphabet. Apply pressure to your creation so it attains a spring-like characteristic while remaining devoid of any predictability whatsoever.
That’s what the road was like.
One hairpin bend followed another, it felt like the bus had attempted a vertical take-off at one point and I’m certain the groans of the passengers could be heard by amused villagers, who were probably used to such sounds, 1,000 miles down below in the valley.
At one point, Greg (one of the finest sound scientists on the planet!), turned white when he saw a road sign promising an incline of 25%.
“But that’s illegal in North America!!” he shouted.
The rest of us felt his pain as we tried not to look out of the windows, but there was no turning back on the Loibl Pass …
I’m happy to report that we made it to Ljubljana, very late but in one piece.
Still, I’m forced to ask the question……how the Hell did Hannibal manage this kind of trek by elephant?

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 51 . Ljubljana to Bologna.

Last night at the Channel Zero was a heartwarming occasion. Admittedly the attendance was thin as The Pink Dots are virtually unknown in Slovenia, but the 40 – 50 hardy souls who showed up, delivered a rapturous reception and the hospitality afforded to us by those who organised the event was second to none.
The club in the Slovenian capital is one of those rare places born out of love and a sense of community, rather an a desire to one day transform into a chain of casinos.
It had changed little from when we played there back in 2004, but the good spirit hadn’t dimmed at all over the years.
The Netherlands used to have lots of these kind of places, genuinely “alternative” (a word I dislike) as they would be run by volunteers who were in it for the music and a sense of togetherness, rather than that promise of a pot of gold.
Having said this, sometimes the community ideal can produce a scenario that is the diametric opposite of what we experienced last night.

Picture this. It’s maybe 25 years ago and we’re driving down a busy street leading out of Innsbruck .
Behind us is the city and the glorious mountain that towers above it, ahead is a flyover and the highway.
The address we need to find is number 2 on the street where we’re driving but we cannot locate it, so time for a U – turn and we’ll try again….

It was baffling. The numbers seemed to begin at ‘4‘ and steadily ascend so we were forced into ANOTHER U turn at the edge of town followed by a slow crawl and a stop at where house number 2 should have been.
After a few seconds of head scratching, one of us spotted what seemed to be a ruin a little removed from the road and it seemed prudent to investigate further.
Indeed, you guessed correctly! The ruin WAS number 2 although it resembled a set for “Mad Max 32” – the one where the fuel has run out, and everyone’s trying to look scary on roller skates.
There was garbage everywhere. There were holes in the walls and in the roof; it smelt BAD as in pre war cheese sandwiches…but we held our collective nerve.
We climbed the unsteady stairs to the second floor where a handful of people were sleeping although it was 5 in the afternoon.
Finally we found the organiser who welcomed us and uttered the magic words, “Would you like to go to your hotel to collect the keys? “ A united cry of “YES PLEASE!!“ chimed from the weary travellers, but our host continued, “….or perhaps you’d prefer to sleep here?”
“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO…er, thank you “ we replied as one voice, so loud that a piece of the ceiling fell onto what we feared was the stage.
And still we played that night. I will not discuss the sound system as children may be reading this missive.
We played. We fled….and our van broke down on the mountain a day later.
Bologna tonight, at The Freak Out Club. See you there!

The picture below depicts the impressive heater in our dressing room last night.

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 52. Bologna to Milan.

We enjoyed a very decent turnout for our show at The Freakout Club last night, and left the stage feeling fairly satisfied despite the occasional visit from Mario, the uninvited Spirit of Mischief.
It was one of those nights where computers rebelled, batteries drained inexplicably, sounds disappeared and we felt like we were clinging on to the tail of a bolting stallion.
Yet in a way, we got off lightly – for playing in Italy is never short on surprises.
Our first show in that beautiful country was back in 1987 at the Centralino Club in Torino.
Mario was rampant on that occasion as it was an evening of technical Hell.
We arrived punctually , many hours ahead of the doors opening – but we spent all that time fighting to get the PA system to work.
I recall a moment when it all got too much and I was reduced to a limp shadow of myself, crouched and cowering in the corner of the dressing room. Yet we played, and then moved on the next day to Rome.
Ah, sweet, strong, beautiful Roma….Surely one of the greatest cities on Earth.
Alas, our venue was in the suburbs. A bizarre place, where the dressing room was also the Ladies’ VERY public bathroom . We did the decent thing and simply stared at the ceiling as the line of visitors engaged in conversation with us.
The show itself was loud, abrasive and terminated on the stroke of midnight when the police entered the building and brutally pulled down the faders of the mixing desk.
Onward we ventured the next day, to the beautiful town of Arezzo.
Although we arrived on time, the sound check was cancelled as the Hall was filled with hopeful punters playing Bingo.
When we eventually got to set up and play, there were fewer people present than for the gaming activities earlier in the afternoon, and they watched us in stony silence.
Later we found out why they didn’t react – it seemed that they could hardly hear us.
Our sound technician Hans was having one of those ‘difficult’ days and hadn’t actually put the music through the (admittedly primitive) PA system. In his own words he “ wanted us to know what we REALLY sounded like…”
Don’t judge him too harshly. We all lost the plot a little during that first Italian Tour…but the people were nice ( except for Mario) and the food was to die for…
Even so, I’ll begin this morning by saying “White Rabbits” at least 1,000 times, although it’s the 21st of the month. Let this day be blissfully UNEVENTFUL….
The picture below is from the dressing room in Bologna. It’s tiny and, as you can see by the walls, laden with history.

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 53. Milan to Lucerne.

It’s actually 9pm on Day 52 at The Ligera in Milan.
The dressing room is bigger than the one in Bologna but to call it comfortable would be seriously stretching things.
For a start, it’s FREEZING so I’ll keep my winter coat on until show time. There is no door, just a curtain. Chairs are stacked everywhere; when I look to my left I see cardboard boxes. Yes, it’s one of those moments when I’m feeling sorry for myself and simply felt the need to share it.
The dressing room should be a sanctuary but it often doesn’t work out that way.
Sure, there are cosy, welcoming ones like that perfect room at the Quasimodo in Berlin, with plates of sandwiches, comfy couches and hot coffee.
Occasionally we encounter a space ready for royalty, like that incredible Green Room at The Fillmore, San Francisco.
But tonight’s experience is not uncommon, and upon reflection I guess I should feel a little grateful – for sometimes there is no dressing room at all.
On those occasions it means changing in the van , usually in darkness. That’s how it was at the Great Scott venue in Boston last October.
Once inside the club, I did my best to melt into a dark corner and not be noticed at least for a while, but…..
I’ll do my best to make tonight’s space a little more sacred and ignore those chairs piled up on the table. Let’s pretend that they’re candelabras with flames flickering in this overwhelmingly red space. Let’s pretend that ugly fridge is a fireplace with glowing logs and orange sparks flying.
Two hours until show time. I’ll get there……

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 54. Lucerne to Frankfurt.

The first thing we noticed upon entry into the beautiful city of Lucerne yesterday was the peculiar nature of the inhabitants. Two identical frog like aliens were staring into the window of a pizzeria, clearly pondering upon whether to imbibe one of the odd circular creations or fly on it back to their home planet.
We turned a a corner and made a brief stop for two shadowy beings who seemed to be on their way to a Quidditch Tournament in the grounds of the nearby castle.

Bubble men and women floated past us. Exaggerated nurses, witch doctors, hulks and would-be heroes strutted the ancient streets and I briefly wondered if Lucerne had been chosen as the setting for “Hotel Transylvania 5”.
In fact, the answer to my question was far simpler. Carnival Time……
It’s the end of February and cities all over this part of Europe indulge in enormous street parties, which begin the day as bright colourful parades and finish as slow drunken crawls back to hotel rooms and railway stations.
These colourful celebrations last for a few days, and then Ash Wednesday descends, which is as miserable as it sounds. Empty cans, pot noodles, weak tea, council tax…
It is an extraordinary spectacle for the travelling band who had just dropped by for a single show and it was clear that the good souls who watched us at The Sedel venue last night were relieved to escape the Bacchanalian orgy on the other side of town.
In the event, they encountered us in good form and afforded us a warm reception.
Still I am fully aware that we may well see quite a few more frog-like aliens tonight when we venture into Frankfurt as it’s Carnival time in that city too.
Come as you are, just don’t mutate into Toblerones in front of the stage as it could be a little off-putting.

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 55. Frankfurt to Paris.

It feels like we are entering the home strait. Just 6 days left and today will see us embark on the last serious drive of the tour – a six hour dash to the French capital.
It’s a show we have been looking forward to.
The Pink Dots have quite a history with Paris and I recall a glorious celebration in front of a big crowd at Elysees Montmatre back in 1990. Then there was the 3 night residency at Passage du Nord Ouest 4 years later; two epic nights at the theatre in Bagnolet in 2005….the list goes on.
Even so, our excitement surrounding those shows all those years ago was inevitably tempered by a sense of trepidation. For no-one reaches Paris without crossing the dreaded French border…..
The concept of Free Movement across the European Union was just a courageous idea floating around at the end of the 80s and early 90s.
For the travelling band, it meant dealing with tedious paperwork at every border and, with France, it seemed like only the worst kind of bully protected the nation from rabble, such as your humble narrator.
I recall the most harrowing time I ever had at a frontier was back in the 80s, as we were driving OUT of France at the dead of night.
We’d been making a video shoot for a local TV station with the song “True Love”.
It was a fun day. The mini-movie ended with a food fight across a huge table.
A mountain of baguettes were consumed, the wine flowed freely.
However, the day took a downward turn for me as one of those incapacitating migraines knocked me for six and I was lying down on the back seat of a car feeling very ill as we attempted to cross into Belgium.
Naturally Monsieur Customs Guy decided that I must have taken drugs to be in such a pitiful condition.
All of us were ordered out of the car and sent to different rooms where a small club of sadists insisted we stripped.
For me, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. As I removed each garment, I grew a little angrier and at one point I proceeded to aim each piece of clothing at the creepy power freak who initially seemed to be enjoying the ritual
humiliation.
Then I remembered a tip someone gave me…”in situations at borders where you feel you are being unfairly treated, always ask for a Superior officer to be present.”
In my worst French I barked, “Votre superieur!!!”. My torturer looked confused.
“VOTRE SUPERIEUR!!!!!” I screamed.
Monsieur Customs guy began to panic as he had clearly singled out a dangerous drug-addled madman who was capable of ANYTHING.
He raised his fists to me, yelling uncontrollably, and thankfully that elusive superieur came bolting through the door to ease the situation.
The boss did his best to apologise, pointing out how bus loads of drug smugglers
had turned his beloved country into a huge opium den, but the damage was done.
When the Schengen Agreement took effect and the borders were thrown open, I felt quite some glee at the prospect of monsters losing their jobs.
I felt my blood coming to a boil as I typed this one, so I’ll leave you in peace with the image of porcelain angels playing violins. Ah, I feel better already….

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 56. Paris to Lille.

The wonderful city of Paris never lets us down. Last night’s show at Petit Bain felt like a celebration, adding to a long string of memorable occasions in the French capital.
Certainly it was the largest attendance of this intense tour so far, despite the fact it was a cold and wet Monday evening.
Still, Petit Bain is a special venue. It’s a large boat on the River Seine, seemingly removed from the hustle bustle of the city centre, yet in reality just a few metro stations away.
As we sat eating our dinner before last night’s show, it was easy to forget that were actually floating- until a single rogue ripple would cause the Earth to move…just a little.
We’ve played on water a few times throughout our history. There’s the delightful Sonic in Lyon which has welcomed The Dots on numerous occasions, while it’s impossible to forget the impressive MS Stubnitz which was docked at Rostock when we first played there, but has since sailed to Amsterdam and now has a place in Hamburg Harbour.
I do enjoy those ‘different’ venues. The ships take their place alongside the churches, castles, circus tents, water towers, and even a volcanic amphitheatre in Mexico City as destinations we’ll always remember.
Yet if I’m pressed to point to the strangest venue I ever played in it would have to be a public toilet in Haarlem, The Netherlands.
You read that correctly: a TOILET…..
I should be proud to declare that this ‘solo’ performance with Phil, Ray and theremin player extraordinaire, Nicoletta, was sold out in advance if it were not for the fact that only 25 people could fit into the venue.
Even more bizarre, the walls of the establishment were all made from glass and it sat in the middle of a traffic island on a busy street.
During the performance we frequently had the impression of a bus heading straight for us as we peered over the heads of the audience, and I remain eternally thankful that few careless drivers were around that evening. One small mistake at the wheel could have reduced that venue to a pile of pretend sugar cubes.
Nevertheless, whenever I hear a rock’n’roller fishing for compliments by saying, “he’d paid his dues by playing toilets all over Europe”, I can now shake my head and sniff in a superior way.
YOU played in downtrodden clubs that RESEMBLED toilets – I played the real thing…..
The results of that strange night can be heard over on our Bandcamp site, but rather than resort to shameless advertising, I’ll leave you with our view of the river last night.
See you in Lille at La Bulle Cafe tonight….

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 57. Lille to Cologne.

Last night’s show in Lille was a marvellous surprise. Promoter Marc had confirmed the event less than a month ago and we expected a thin turnout with so little time to play with.
Yet we could not have been more wrong as the venue was packed, and I’m proud to report that we rose to the occasion before the excitable spectators.
Curiously, in the build up to last night’s performance I was interviewed for a radio show and one question related to the first time I played in Lille back in 1988.
That was on the tour with Skinny Puppy when I opened with a solo set. Apparently the Puppy’s show was cut short and the reason was never clear why to those in attendance.
In the aftermath two theories emerged: 1. Puppy’s vocalist Nivek Ogre injured himself during the performance and needed to go to hospital, and, 2. A thief had stolen all the takings from the concert.
I was asked to solve the mystery and, even with my memory for useless details, I couldn’t.
Even so, I do recall that tour manager Dan was apparently paid with coins – a big bag of French francs….He seemed relaxed about it at the time, but I suggest you draw your own conclusions.
I can recall one show where The Dots were also paid in this manner.
We were booked into an odd venue named The Spielcasino in Dornbirn, Austria for one of those nights where the audience stared at us as if we were aliens, and we gazed back with absolute incredulity.
When the performance came to a merciful end, we just wanted to collect our modest fee and leave as fast as possible.
However, there was only the club manager and the bar staff to talk to as the promoter had been arrested on the way to the venue while trying to enter Austria from nearby Switzerland.
Arms were raised pathetically. We were told that the cupboard was bare, and we’d be compensated as soon as the organiser was released from a Swiss prison in maybe 20 years.
It had been a terrible night but we were not prepared to simply surrender and drive off empty-handed.
We surrounded the manager and demanded that he produced the agreed 400 DM (around $200).
It was a minuscule amount of money, so we pointed to the tills at the bar.
After a whole lot of scraping and rattling we ultimately fled the establishment with enough coins to guarantee us a steady supply of chocolate bars for a fortnight.
God bless PayPal, it makes the load far lighter.
The picture attached is the view of the French highway from the van. Odd geometric shapes for miles and miles ; brightly painted spheres turn into cubes then mutate into triangles . This scene kept the conversation going for ages but we still never quite came to the conclusion as to why they are there….
See you at Helios tonight….

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 58. Cologne to Amsterdam.

After boldly rolling Northwards to the frozen wastes of Scandinavia and crossing the Alps twice, the snow finally caught up with us yesterday.
We were close to Liege, Belgium when the blizzard was at it’s fiercest, but all credit to the emergency services which seemed to out clearing roads as soon as the first flakes were settling.
It was a brutally cold, treacherous day and we are grateful to the courageous souls who turned to make us feel so welcome at the Helios 37 club .
Still, as advanced in years as I am, the sight of snow always excites me.
I do recall a show in the small resort city of Zug, Switzerland many years ago.
As we approached the Theatre Casino venue, it felt like we’d been driving across a photo shoot for a chocolate box cover.
White roads, white roofs, soft lamplight and a circle of mountains surrounded us and we wondered who on Earth would have heard of the Legendary Pink Dots in that rarefied setting?
In fact around 60 immaculately groomed youngsters attended, politely applauding from 60 immaculate cushions placed neatly across the floor.
Before we played the promoter introduced us with a small speech in German which felt uncomfortably like a Sunday School sermon.
My attempts at demonic behaviour were invariably received with approving smiles and polite applause, and after the show, we sold 60 items of merchandise at the table to the attendees who queued politely before being served.
It was extraordinary, and I look back on that night with fondness.
Nevertheless, can you imagine my sense of shock when I read about a madman with a gun in the Town Hall of that small corner of Paradise a few years later?
Off to Amsterdam today and a show at OCCII.
The picture depicts the view from my window this morning.

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 59 Amsterdam to Namur.

Sweet Amsterdam….you gave me shelter when I needed it all those years ago.
Sweet Amsterdam….you nurtured me and supported for three fine years.
Sweet Amsterdam….you are so much more than your museums and temptations.
Last night at OCCII was spectacular. The little venue was possibly the cosiest of the tour, operated by good souls who know what it is to fight for an ideal without compromise.
The small club at the Southern edge of Vondel Park dates back decades, emerging from the city’s once thriving squat scene.
As the fat cats moved in, and squatted houses were evicted (including my home in Nieuwe Zijds Voorburgwal) all those years ago, OCCII stayed put and today’s
proud descendant of that movement is a shining example of what is possible from undiluted idealism.
It was packed as well and we reconnected with friends we hadn’t seen for 35 years..truly a heartwarming experience.
My only small mistake was to stretch out for a sleep on a comfy couch on the first floor, surrounded by my personal bags.
For when the doors opened, the room began to fill…in short, it was NOT the dressing room, it was the SMOKING room!
Sweet Amsterdam…such temptations…..
In fact The Pink Dots learned a lesson about succumbing to those temptations on the very first tour of The Netherlands back in 1984.
The location was Venray, and, as the band loaded in their equipment, a local punter was casually carving up an enormous chunk of hashish on a table.
Crumbs were sprinkled, spliffs were distributed and almost the entire band spent the rest of the day navel gazing on a fluffy cloud .
The sad part is that a few members of the band forgot to step OFF that cloud when it was showtime, and the result was one of the WORST performances in our long history.
I recall one of our number believing his instrument had mutated into a licorice stick ( no names!)
Worse still, the audience didn’t seem to notice or care as they too were comfortable on that cloud. They just stared at the ceiling, not reacting at all to the music.
As a result we made the rule of “ NO ALCOHOL” and “NO SMOKING” before a show. I slipped here and there during the 90s when a bottle of Tequila would inevitably be waiting for me on the dressing room table (though rarely more than a small shot), but for two decades it’s been a case of nothing stronger than orange juice. Believe me, it’s better that way………
The picture was taken en route to the Dutch capital yesterday…. there’s old Amsterdam, and a very NEW Amsterdam!

THE LEGENDARY PINK DOTS 40TH ANNIVERSARY TOUR.
DAY 60

……begins with a picture.

Namur, Belgium, is beautiful this morning. The early sun melts into the fast flowing river, ducks are calling each other and it feels like Spring has arrived early.
Sadly all that will change as we head North for the final show of this European adventure. Our destination is London, and as I type this missive I’m aware of a massive storm battering the British coast line.
It seems like apocalyptic weather wreaks havoc across the country of my birth on a weekly basis. Part of it is still under water as a result of LAST WEEK’S STORM, known to close friends as “Dennis.”
Ciara passed over a week before that, and the name of this weekend’s horror eludes me. I guess the names are intended to make them sound somehow friendlier, but I’d be more impressed if they were tagged like Norse Gods…. I’ll call today’s manifestation Odin the fifteenth. Perhaps that pitiful show of respect will see the demonic gust afford us a little mercy as we board the train through the tunnel.
It’s useless fact time. Did you know that there are TWO tunnels under the English Channel ? There is the one that efficiently links the UK with the rest of Europe and the one which “missed” – a cul de sac under the sea, haunted by a hugely expensive digger, presumably manned by someone who couldn’t read maps.
I cannot help wondering if this will be the last time we’ll travel to London for a show in this manner.
For sure, when the UK has severed its ties and literally burned its bridges ( or tunnels) to the neighbours, everything will become impossibly complicated for small bands .
Half of the Pink Dots are Dutch, our equipment is stationed in The Netherlands and just to purchase one of those ridiculous customs forms would eat up half of what we would normally be paid for a show in London.
I guess we’ll cheat, lie and fly with EasyJet to Southend on the “Tourist Special”.
Who knows, if the lie is good enough they may even make me Prime Minister.
London awaits. My lovely little family awaits. I want tonight to be a celebration with no thoughts drifting towards viruses, politics and the impending apocalypse.
I want tonight to be all about LOVE.