Sick of writing about music, interviewing bands and producing radio shows for a living, I have realised that my true vocation in life is to be a "supersnogger" of 20-year-old boys.
For obvious reasons, I'd love to extend my portfolio, so if you have a film, video etc for which you need a person to play such a role, send me the script.
Check out the awesome Royal Flush Film Festival promo and come down to the festival in New York this week! You are not in New York? Get your ass over. They fly planes here these days, you know?
See ya there, Bitches!
Miss Pee xx
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Stephen Colbert - friend or foe?
After nine months of fantasising, hoping, posting shit about and obsessing over Stephen Colbert, I managed to get a couple of tickets for The Colbert Report. To say that I was hyperventilating at the thought of being in the same room as the man that makes me laugh (slightly) more than Chewie is an understatement.
It was Elisa (aka "Mariolino")'s birthday last night and our loose plan to go watch Chicago at the Ambassador Theater shattered like a window in the proximity of Montserrat Caballe. I knew I wouldnt have got another chance to meet my satire hero for another six months as that is the rule for people that apply for online tix. Elisa had absolute NO idea who Stephen Colbert was (she lives in Milan, Italy) but tagged along anyway. For anyone else out there who has never heard of this show, The Colbert Report has about 1 million viewers in the US alone.
Since I'd resigned myself to to the fact that I'd never get those tickets, when I received the email from the Audience Officer that a pair had been reserved for me, I replied three times with something that probably translated to "mad twat" to them. I consequently got a couple of fun reminder emails from them saying "You really got these tickets for tonight". So when I received a third one, I thought I'd join in the fun and replied with "I guess you guys are taking the piss now which is awesome. I'll be the one with the 'Enjoy Cock' tshirt on tonight." The silly "reminder" emails stopped though I suddenly received one from the lady in charge that read "Enjoy the show but please dress in a tv friendly manner. Have fun." So what did I do? I turned up wearing that tshirt. When we met in the queue, the audience lady panicked:-"Oh my god, you did wear it anyway! You are going to get me in trouble tonight..." A comedy show with NO sense of humour? Yawn. I offered to change but she let me in anyway as I proved I had a pair of solid lungs on me. They do this silly thing before they hand you your tickets:- they ask you to scream like an absolute baboon after they go "Welcome to the Colbert Report!" I have been to a couple of Metallica shows and screaming is like second nature. Once inside, she prepped us by begging us to laugh out loud at Stephen's jokes even if they werent funny. Nobody laughed at that but her. Oh God. Strike me now.
The evening began with a comedian called Dan Cook. His job was to warm us up. Rather funny, surreal in an Eddie Izzard sort of way, Dan Cook managed to turn me off by the time I realised he'd been on for 10 minutes. He was NO Eddie Izzard after all. Or it was 'cos waiting for Goofball Colbert soon became unbearable. As the various cameramen and the floor manager turned up, Dan Cook introduced the arrival of the creator of Esteban Colberto.
As the lights went on and Stephen Colbert turned up, I went cold. Though as I got out of the trance, I somehow climbed up the rails by the side of the studio. I only realised I'd got up there once I snapped out of it. We were all told that Colbert would turn up "out of character" but I didnt notice the difference. We were also told that we could ask him a question. I had a wicked one but unfortunately, my hand didnt get picked. Might have had something to do with the fact that I raised my middle finger up. What to do to get myself picked next time, hold a dildo up like the flame for the statue of Liberty? The questions asked were lame but Stephen turned things around and made jokes out of pretty much everything. It was like polishing a turd but that's what he had to work with that night. One girl who asked him why he chose a certain subject at university. Stephen wondered what she picked herself. "Philosophy," she coily replied. I yawned aloud. Stephen jumped back:-"Why is that, so that when you graduate, you can open a philosophy shop?" A lady asked him "Where is my daughter?" (What a fucking waste of time) but he found her boring ass spawn on the other side of the audience section and as her pushy mother asked another tedious question - "She is a writer, ask her what she likes to write," (lady, we honestly do not give a shit), Stephen posed that question to the girl. "I dont know, you're putting me on the spot now," she stattered. My fist through her annoyingly vacuous head would have been more entertaining. She managed to say something along the lines of loving poetry so Stephen went on to cite a passage from a poem off the top of his head. He interacted with the audience for about 15 minutes in total, after which the show taping began.
Colbert sat behind his desk and began flicking red wrist bands out to the audience and as he went into the show intro - "TONIGHT!" - he muddled up the first take. "Taping is over," he joked. "The show seems much longer on tv." He did the intro one more time, fucked it up again and apologised to the audience. He then screamed at his floor manager:- "They'll be blogging that Stephen Colber is not a pro. Turn all phones off! Stop them!! No blogging whatsoever!"
The rest of the segments went rather quick. It was not just the audience laughing like apes on speed. The crew (including his floor manager) chuckled heartily too. At the end of the second segment, he played a tune using this animal horn type instrument and then walked over to the people in the first row to have them sniff it. Their grimaces spoke volumes.
After the last segment, Stephen squirted some liquid sanitizer on the hands of the same peeps in the first row before he used some of it on himself. It had a touch of the divine. Jesus washed people's feet whilst Colbert cleanses your hands.
He left the studio in a flash and as quickly as he disappeared, we all left chatting amongst ourselves about the evening's experience.
Mariolino confessed that she didnt like him that much. Shocking to say the least, given that to me Stephen Colbert is the Holy Grail of comedy right now but it's horses for courses, eh.
I gotta plan my next clapping session on that show...considering my luck, it might not happen until August 2010.
Like some of you, love only Stephen Colbert and the rest, go watch the David Letterman Show. Ugh.
Miss Pee xx
It was Elisa (aka "Mariolino")'s birthday last night and our loose plan to go watch Chicago at the Ambassador Theater shattered like a window in the proximity of Montserrat Caballe. I knew I wouldnt have got another chance to meet my satire hero for another six months as that is the rule for people that apply for online tix. Elisa had absolute NO idea who Stephen Colbert was (she lives in Milan, Italy) but tagged along anyway. For anyone else out there who has never heard of this show, The Colbert Report has about 1 million viewers in the US alone.
Since I'd resigned myself to to the fact that I'd never get those tickets, when I received the email from the Audience Officer that a pair had been reserved for me, I replied three times with something that probably translated to "mad twat" to them. I consequently got a couple of fun reminder emails from them saying "You really got these tickets for tonight". So when I received a third one, I thought I'd join in the fun and replied with "I guess you guys are taking the piss now which is awesome. I'll be the one with the 'Enjoy Cock' tshirt on tonight." The silly "reminder" emails stopped though I suddenly received one from the lady in charge that read "Enjoy the show but please dress in a tv friendly manner. Have fun." So what did I do? I turned up wearing that tshirt. When we met in the queue, the audience lady panicked:-"Oh my god, you did wear it anyway! You are going to get me in trouble tonight..." A comedy show with NO sense of humour? Yawn. I offered to change but she let me in anyway as I proved I had a pair of solid lungs on me. They do this silly thing before they hand you your tickets:- they ask you to scream like an absolute baboon after they go "Welcome to the Colbert Report!" I have been to a couple of Metallica shows and screaming is like second nature. Once inside, she prepped us by begging us to laugh out loud at Stephen's jokes even if they werent funny. Nobody laughed at that but her. Oh God. Strike me now.
The evening began with a comedian called Dan Cook. His job was to warm us up. Rather funny, surreal in an Eddie Izzard sort of way, Dan Cook managed to turn me off by the time I realised he'd been on for 10 minutes. He was NO Eddie Izzard after all. Or it was 'cos waiting for Goofball Colbert soon became unbearable. As the various cameramen and the floor manager turned up, Dan Cook introduced the arrival of the creator of Esteban Colberto.
As the lights went on and Stephen Colbert turned up, I went cold. Though as I got out of the trance, I somehow climbed up the rails by the side of the studio. I only realised I'd got up there once I snapped out of it. We were all told that Colbert would turn up "out of character" but I didnt notice the difference. We were also told that we could ask him a question. I had a wicked one but unfortunately, my hand didnt get picked. Might have had something to do with the fact that I raised my middle finger up. What to do to get myself picked next time, hold a dildo up like the flame for the statue of Liberty? The questions asked were lame but Stephen turned things around and made jokes out of pretty much everything. It was like polishing a turd but that's what he had to work with that night. One girl who asked him why he chose a certain subject at university. Stephen wondered what she picked herself. "Philosophy," she coily replied. I yawned aloud. Stephen jumped back:-"Why is that, so that when you graduate, you can open a philosophy shop?" A lady asked him "Where is my daughter?" (What a fucking waste of time) but he found her boring ass spawn on the other side of the audience section and as her pushy mother asked another tedious question - "She is a writer, ask her what she likes to write," (lady, we honestly do not give a shit), Stephen posed that question to the girl. "I dont know, you're putting me on the spot now," she stattered. My fist through her annoyingly vacuous head would have been more entertaining. She managed to say something along the lines of loving poetry so Stephen went on to cite a passage from a poem off the top of his head. He interacted with the audience for about 15 minutes in total, after which the show taping began.
Colbert sat behind his desk and began flicking red wrist bands out to the audience and as he went into the show intro - "TONIGHT!" - he muddled up the first take. "Taping is over," he joked. "The show seems much longer on tv." He did the intro one more time, fucked it up again and apologised to the audience. He then screamed at his floor manager:- "They'll be blogging that Stephen Colber is not a pro. Turn all phones off! Stop them!! No blogging whatsoever!"
The rest of the segments went rather quick. It was not just the audience laughing like apes on speed. The crew (including his floor manager) chuckled heartily too. At the end of the second segment, he played a tune using this animal horn type instrument and then walked over to the people in the first row to have them sniff it. Their grimaces spoke volumes.
After the last segment, Stephen squirted some liquid sanitizer on the hands of the same peeps in the first row before he used some of it on himself. It had a touch of the divine. Jesus washed people's feet whilst Colbert cleanses your hands.
He left the studio in a flash and as quickly as he disappeared, we all left chatting amongst ourselves about the evening's experience.
Mariolino confessed that she didnt like him that much. Shocking to say the least, given that to me Stephen Colbert is the Holy Grail of comedy right now but it's horses for courses, eh.
I gotta plan my next clapping session on that show...considering my luck, it might not happen until August 2010.
Like some of you, love only Stephen Colbert and the rest, go watch the David Letterman Show. Ugh.
Miss Pee xx
Friday, September 25, 2009
Finally back in New York - Royal Flush Film Festival promo shoot
After spending three months in Europe where I attended an incredible amount of gigs and events, I am back in the Big Apple reporting on behalf of Minarki. I am also getting ready to launch a new radio show on the channel. It'll be ready by the end of this year.
However, while waiting for a platform to make more noise on the airwaves, I've been and will be attending a bunch of events here in New York. Recently saw Gojira, Burst and Zoroaster perform in Williamsburg. All bands top notch. I had never heard Zoroaster before so that was a pleasant surprise.
Also, Eagle Train, Pelican, Earth and Sunn O))) at the Masonic Temple in Brooklyn. Pelican stood out, shortly followed by Eagle Train. Earth nearly sent me to sleep had it not been for the female drummer who kept my interest up for at least 10 minutes. Thing is, as Earth were on stage, I mistook a guy for somebody else and I told him to fuck off when he told me his identity. And no, it was not Peter Parker that expected me to believe he was actually Spiderman. This guy played drums in a band called Unearthly Trance and he remembered we'd done an interview in Oslo for Tinitus back in 2006. Ahem. It was chatting with him that made the Earth set go by fairly quickly. After that, Holly, Amanda and I went down to the Masonic bar by the toilets of the Brooklyn Temple and as we bit into a free muffin, I noticed this strapping young lad walk in. I waved him to join us and introduced myself. I could see that he seemed a bit unsure as to whether or when he'd met me before. Truth is, we had never met before but I had noticed him on stage earlier that night. And so had Holly. And Amanda. So we agreed that had we seen him around, we'd have a pic taken with him - the Pelican bassist. I believe his name to be Bryan Herweg. He made dancing look cool on stage during their set. He was lovely and chilled but not the sex pot that he looked on stage. Still, we had a chat, took a pic with him to document the evening and we left cos Sunn O))) were about to come on. Not sure what to make of that performance. The main hall was filled with smoke and it was unbearably hot. The introduction, which consisted of a 20-min-long note, made a bunch of people walk out. Guest vocalist, Attila Czihar (Mayhem, Aborym) did what he does best - scream and talk English in a very thick foreign accent. Very suggestive at times and therapeutic too - the odd vibrations and frequencies that made my body resonate cured my back pain. Unusual and arty though hardly something I would make a point of watching again too often. It was worth checking out at least once though. Especially for the finale where Attila wore something that made him look a blend of Chewbacca and Scuzzlebutt (without the Patrick Duffy leg or the celery hand).
I missed the show that I had been looking forward to the most because of illness - Porcupine Tree with support by King's X at Terminal 5 just last night. Really GUTTED but had I gone, I wouldnt have been able to get up early enough to get to the photoshoot for the Royal Flush Film Festival promo in the Bronx today.
James Galus, the man that manages Mindless Self Indulgence and a bunch of other acts also puts on this film festival in New York every year. Check out its site here: www.royalflushfestival.com. He got a team of peeps to shoot the promo for it today and asked me whether I'd like to take part in it. All I had to do was wear a tight red dress with a boobilicious split in the middle and force-snog a 20-year-old boy. I knew James had not requested my presence in this promo for my acting abilities but good God, that sounded too good to miss. The director only asked me and the boy to do that scene three times - a sign that I'd perfected my cougar talents to a T. The young boy did come over to chat in the dressing room, which was sweet but I kept my claws clean this time. But then, again, had he looked like Chewbacca, I might have made an exception.
There were also two main bitch-type characters - Emily (vocalist in September Mourning) and Derenzia (an NYC dom and fetish model) that were supposed to be fighting with each other a bunch of times. We all got to share a dressing room and we generally had a lot of fun. Plus, a girl from LA who currently lives in Philadelphia. She was breath-takingly pretty but rather vacuous at first. I got to chat with her for a bit in between takes and she turned out to be a little smarter than I first thought. James acted like the equivalent to Bob Geldof with Live Aid - he got everyone to work on this for free. Awesome, considering that he invests money into this venture each year. He also did sort out food and transport for each of us girls and was like a tour manager for us today. Bless his gentlemanly socks. Thank you, Mr Galus.
The shoot took place in some college around 200th Street, high up in the Bronx area. It was awesome to visit a place that I have heard so much about but wont be hanging in too often. And I made it back in one piece. Ho.Ho.Ho. I guess the Bronx is not what it used to be anymore anyway.
Pics of the shoot ready in a coupla days. Same with the promo. Cant wait to see it.
Miss Pee
However, while waiting for a platform to make more noise on the airwaves, I've been and will be attending a bunch of events here in New York. Recently saw Gojira, Burst and Zoroaster perform in Williamsburg. All bands top notch. I had never heard Zoroaster before so that was a pleasant surprise.
Also, Eagle Train, Pelican, Earth and Sunn O))) at the Masonic Temple in Brooklyn. Pelican stood out, shortly followed by Eagle Train. Earth nearly sent me to sleep had it not been for the female drummer who kept my interest up for at least 10 minutes. Thing is, as Earth were on stage, I mistook a guy for somebody else and I told him to fuck off when he told me his identity. And no, it was not Peter Parker that expected me to believe he was actually Spiderman. This guy played drums in a band called Unearthly Trance and he remembered we'd done an interview in Oslo for Tinitus back in 2006. Ahem. It was chatting with him that made the Earth set go by fairly quickly. After that, Holly, Amanda and I went down to the Masonic bar by the toilets of the Brooklyn Temple and as we bit into a free muffin, I noticed this strapping young lad walk in. I waved him to join us and introduced myself. I could see that he seemed a bit unsure as to whether or when he'd met me before. Truth is, we had never met before but I had noticed him on stage earlier that night. And so had Holly. And Amanda. So we agreed that had we seen him around, we'd have a pic taken with him - the Pelican bassist. I believe his name to be Bryan Herweg. He made dancing look cool on stage during their set. He was lovely and chilled but not the sex pot that he looked on stage. Still, we had a chat, took a pic with him to document the evening and we left cos Sunn O))) were about to come on. Not sure what to make of that performance. The main hall was filled with smoke and it was unbearably hot. The introduction, which consisted of a 20-min-long note, made a bunch of people walk out. Guest vocalist, Attila Czihar (Mayhem, Aborym) did what he does best - scream and talk English in a very thick foreign accent. Very suggestive at times and therapeutic too - the odd vibrations and frequencies that made my body resonate cured my back pain. Unusual and arty though hardly something I would make a point of watching again too often. It was worth checking out at least once though. Especially for the finale where Attila wore something that made him look a blend of Chewbacca and Scuzzlebutt (without the Patrick Duffy leg or the celery hand).
I missed the show that I had been looking forward to the most because of illness - Porcupine Tree with support by King's X at Terminal 5 just last night. Really GUTTED but had I gone, I wouldnt have been able to get up early enough to get to the photoshoot for the Royal Flush Film Festival promo in the Bronx today.
James Galus, the man that manages Mindless Self Indulgence and a bunch of other acts also puts on this film festival in New York every year. Check out its site here: www.royalflushfestival.com. He got a team of peeps to shoot the promo for it today and asked me whether I'd like to take part in it. All I had to do was wear a tight red dress with a boobilicious split in the middle and force-snog a 20-year-old boy. I knew James had not requested my presence in this promo for my acting abilities but good God, that sounded too good to miss. The director only asked me and the boy to do that scene three times - a sign that I'd perfected my cougar talents to a T. The young boy did come over to chat in the dressing room, which was sweet but I kept my claws clean this time. But then, again, had he looked like Chewbacca, I might have made an exception.
There were also two main bitch-type characters - Emily (vocalist in September Mourning) and Derenzia (an NYC dom and fetish model) that were supposed to be fighting with each other a bunch of times. We all got to share a dressing room and we generally had a lot of fun. Plus, a girl from LA who currently lives in Philadelphia. She was breath-takingly pretty but rather vacuous at first. I got to chat with her for a bit in between takes and she turned out to be a little smarter than I first thought. James acted like the equivalent to Bob Geldof with Live Aid - he got everyone to work on this for free. Awesome, considering that he invests money into this venture each year. He also did sort out food and transport for each of us girls and was like a tour manager for us today. Bless his gentlemanly socks. Thank you, Mr Galus.
The shoot took place in some college around 200th Street, high up in the Bronx area. It was awesome to visit a place that I have heard so much about but wont be hanging in too often. And I made it back in one piece. Ho.Ho.Ho. I guess the Bronx is not what it used to be anymore anyway.
Pics of the shoot ready in a coupla days. Same with the promo. Cant wait to see it.
Miss Pee
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
The Kerrang! Awards at The Brewery - Part II...the aftershow of the aftershow!!
Back at the coveted Kerrang! Awards ceremony. A bunch of bands got their awards and Masto Brent sitting next to me confided that he liked them ALL (that included Placebo). I was so impressed when Alice in Chains got on stage to pick up the Icon Award that I have no idea what they said. I bet vocalist William Duvall mentioned he was just a hired gun and was stoked to be part of this legendary band. He needs to come up with a new script. He's been in the band a few years now, hasnt he. A huge fan of their dirgeful tunes, it was exciting to be around them. Without them noticing me in the slightest.
Alice In Chains pick up their Icon Award at the Kerrang! Awards (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Somebody whispered that Slipknot's Corey Taylor got an award for the shortest vocalist with the largest neck. Who could have such clarity of mind at that time of night? It was only 8pm though I doubt anybody in the room was still sober then (we do tend to believe others to be a reflection of ourselves, dont we). I assume that co-host Scott Ian was not mashed. The Anthrax guitarist looked metal as fuck in his non-descript black and leathery type apparel, whilst the Slipknot vocalist resembled a Saturday Night Fever pimp. He carried that baby blue look with panache and was very charming up there. Well done to those two boys, must say. They couldnt have picked a shor...better duo this year.
Birgit Martinussen with Corey 'Saturday Night Fever pimp' Taylor at the K Awards (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Rob Trujillo, representing Metallica, went on stage to pick up the Best Album award for 'Death Magnetic'. Slipknot won Best Live Band and Best International Band and Corey Taylor grabbed them both up wearing a bag on his head (most probably to make a clear distinction between his hosting and award winner roles). Machine Head won the Inspiration Award. Limp Bizkit? Hall of Fame. WTF. When they got on stage, I remember thinking:- "What is Ollie from Legz Akimbo doing up there?"
Ollie from Legz Akimbo (League of Gentlemen character).
But it was actually Limp Bizkit's guitarist Wes Borland with a new hairstyle. The eccentric guitarist went for the greasy-looking bleached barnet.
Here Pamela with Wes Borland (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Not the same specimen that Holly Van Hagar and I lusted after during the Black Light Burns performance at the Fillmore a few months ago. Ugh.
Wes Borland live with Black Light Burns. Droolworthy.
At the main aftershow, Nelly introduced me to Mark Adams who is in charge of Kerrang TV and is involved in a Channel 4 production...? Ahem. I was so delightfully mashed by then that he could have told me he was the new president of Burundi and I would have believed him. I had exchanged some emails with him a few years back and I couldnt believe how handsome he was in real life. Blond hair, blue eyes. Typical Burundian then. After 'making flirties', I went around looking for Chewie.
Chewbacca attended the Kerrang! Awards this year.
On my disjointed walk around the various halls, I bumped into the Lacuna Coil guys who were joking around behind a girl whose skirt looked too short for comfort. I believe one of them knelt down on the floor pretending to eat her ass whilst another took a pic of it. And the girl was oblivious to it all. Italians...
Out in the foyer, I got assaulted by Kerrang!'s ex Ad Sales biatch, Birgit Martinussen (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Birgit has a tendency to wrestle people at disparate times and that was obviously my turn. I have limited wrestling experience but I got her in a headlock right away. However, a short dress, fishnet tights and five-inch heels hardly make the most appropriate wrestling gear.
I got Birgit in a headlock here (pic by Pamela Steuri).
I lost like a snotty little girl as I chuckled till I cried. The thought of punters getting a glimpse of my miniscule stripper thong was too much to bear. In that horrible light, at least.
I'm done right here (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Darren 'let's party' Sanders watched and cheered (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Then we "girls" got up, brushed ourselves off and without missing a beat, we also posed for pictures. Such pros (from left to right, Pamela, Pee, Birgit, Lucy - pic by Pamela Steuri).
Incidentally, Birgit also wrestled Shat's main man Jeff Wood (ex-Dillinger Escape Plan) outside some bar in New Jersey a few years back. I do not know who won but Birgit has been recently wondering why Jeff is not talking to her these days.
Jeff Wood from Shat (ex-Dillinger Escape Plan) in stage gear.
I managed to lose Nelly but bumped into Masto Brann who introduced me to Robert Trujillo. It's a dirty job but someone's gotta shake the bassist's hand at some point, eh. Brann then dragged me down to this underground chamber. Time to get punished for arriving at the ceremony late? Chance would be a fine thing. We just ended up in this room with a bunch of peeps that did not want to get wrestled to the ground by K's staff. Anthrax, Slipknot, Machine Head members and their various partners drank, chatted and smoked like they were above the law. Lee introduced me to Robert Trujillo's wife - a classy blond French lady with a Princess Leia type hair style. "Is it a hairpiece or your real hair," I wondered aloud. "Oh, no, it's my hair," she replied giggling. "It is very long when I let it down." My type of girl.
Rob came over to whisk her away whilst Masto Brann grabbed my hand and dragged me out. "We're going to the Met Bar with Rob," the drummer explained in a haste as I was lost in a haze. On our way out I pulled Masto Brent with us. I had no idea how I managed to run on the cobbled pavement outside wearing my Betty Boop type shoes without falling flat on my face. Brann pushed me into a car and off we went to this other bar. Lee joined us a little later. Michelle from Roadrunner was there with the Machine Head guys. The RR iron lady (aka the label's Head of Press) was wearing a pretty floral dress. I offered to wrestle her. She agreed to do it outside. I giggled. She told me I was lame. No, Michelle, I have just remembered that I am wearing a silly dress and even sillier shoes. And I dont particularly fancy lathering my tights right now. How 'poo poo pee do' of me.
Masto Brann watches over Masto madman Brent Hinds at the Met Bar. Too late, mate. We were all too fucked by then...
I do not remember much of anything else but I must have made it home cos I woke up the following day and my tights were still in one piece. On the floor.
The day after, I was supposed to return to Milan and I missed my plane. I booked myself on the next available flight (6am the day after) and I spent the night at Stanstead, drinking coffee and updating my Facebook status. Life in the fast lane.
Phil Dowsett from Fundaforest, Greentreeco and Zoofari came over to meet me and keep me company. We have planned to join forces to make this planet a better place. Youthful folly (without the "youth"). Watch this space...
More irrelevant bollocks coming up, will update as soon as I have a spare minute.
Like most of you, love only one and the rest, get ready for Bloodstock and Reading. I'll miss both events this year to hang out with my mum.
Mashed Head Pee xx
Alice In Chains pick up their Icon Award at the Kerrang! Awards (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Somebody whispered that Slipknot's Corey Taylor got an award for the shortest vocalist with the largest neck. Who could have such clarity of mind at that time of night? It was only 8pm though I doubt anybody in the room was still sober then (we do tend to believe others to be a reflection of ourselves, dont we). I assume that co-host Scott Ian was not mashed. The Anthrax guitarist looked metal as fuck in his non-descript black and leathery type apparel, whilst the Slipknot vocalist resembled a Saturday Night Fever pimp. He carried that baby blue look with panache and was very charming up there. Well done to those two boys, must say. They couldnt have picked a shor...better duo this year.
Birgit Martinussen with Corey 'Saturday Night Fever pimp' Taylor at the K Awards (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Rob Trujillo, representing Metallica, went on stage to pick up the Best Album award for 'Death Magnetic'. Slipknot won Best Live Band and Best International Band and Corey Taylor grabbed them both up wearing a bag on his head (most probably to make a clear distinction between his hosting and award winner roles). Machine Head won the Inspiration Award. Limp Bizkit? Hall of Fame. WTF. When they got on stage, I remember thinking:- "What is Ollie from Legz Akimbo doing up there?"
Ollie from Legz Akimbo (League of Gentlemen character).
But it was actually Limp Bizkit's guitarist Wes Borland with a new hairstyle. The eccentric guitarist went for the greasy-looking bleached barnet.
Here Pamela with Wes Borland (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Not the same specimen that Holly Van Hagar and I lusted after during the Black Light Burns performance at the Fillmore a few months ago. Ugh.
Wes Borland live with Black Light Burns. Droolworthy.
At the main aftershow, Nelly introduced me to Mark Adams who is in charge of Kerrang TV and is involved in a Channel 4 production...? Ahem. I was so delightfully mashed by then that he could have told me he was the new president of Burundi and I would have believed him. I had exchanged some emails with him a few years back and I couldnt believe how handsome he was in real life. Blond hair, blue eyes. Typical Burundian then. After 'making flirties', I went around looking for Chewie.
Chewbacca attended the Kerrang! Awards this year.
On my disjointed walk around the various halls, I bumped into the Lacuna Coil guys who were joking around behind a girl whose skirt looked too short for comfort. I believe one of them knelt down on the floor pretending to eat her ass whilst another took a pic of it. And the girl was oblivious to it all. Italians...
Out in the foyer, I got assaulted by Kerrang!'s ex Ad Sales biatch, Birgit Martinussen (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Birgit has a tendency to wrestle people at disparate times and that was obviously my turn. I have limited wrestling experience but I got her in a headlock right away. However, a short dress, fishnet tights and five-inch heels hardly make the most appropriate wrestling gear.
I got Birgit in a headlock here (pic by Pamela Steuri).
I lost like a snotty little girl as I chuckled till I cried. The thought of punters getting a glimpse of my miniscule stripper thong was too much to bear. In that horrible light, at least.
I'm done right here (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Darren 'let's party' Sanders watched and cheered (pic by Pamela Steuri).
Then we "girls" got up, brushed ourselves off and without missing a beat, we also posed for pictures. Such pros (from left to right, Pamela, Pee, Birgit, Lucy - pic by Pamela Steuri).
Incidentally, Birgit also wrestled Shat's main man Jeff Wood (ex-Dillinger Escape Plan) outside some bar in New Jersey a few years back. I do not know who won but Birgit has been recently wondering why Jeff is not talking to her these days.
Jeff Wood from Shat (ex-Dillinger Escape Plan) in stage gear.
I managed to lose Nelly but bumped into Masto Brann who introduced me to Robert Trujillo. It's a dirty job but someone's gotta shake the bassist's hand at some point, eh. Brann then dragged me down to this underground chamber. Time to get punished for arriving at the ceremony late? Chance would be a fine thing. We just ended up in this room with a bunch of peeps that did not want to get wrestled to the ground by K's staff. Anthrax, Slipknot, Machine Head members and their various partners drank, chatted and smoked like they were above the law. Lee introduced me to Robert Trujillo's wife - a classy blond French lady with a Princess Leia type hair style. "Is it a hairpiece or your real hair," I wondered aloud. "Oh, no, it's my hair," she replied giggling. "It is very long when I let it down." My type of girl.
Rob came over to whisk her away whilst Masto Brann grabbed my hand and dragged me out. "We're going to the Met Bar with Rob," the drummer explained in a haste as I was lost in a haze. On our way out I pulled Masto Brent with us. I had no idea how I managed to run on the cobbled pavement outside wearing my Betty Boop type shoes without falling flat on my face. Brann pushed me into a car and off we went to this other bar. Lee joined us a little later. Michelle from Roadrunner was there with the Machine Head guys. The RR iron lady (aka the label's Head of Press) was wearing a pretty floral dress. I offered to wrestle her. She agreed to do it outside. I giggled. She told me I was lame. No, Michelle, I have just remembered that I am wearing a silly dress and even sillier shoes. And I dont particularly fancy lathering my tights right now. How 'poo poo pee do' of me.
Masto Brann watches over Masto madman Brent Hinds at the Met Bar. Too late, mate. We were all too fucked by then...
I do not remember much of anything else but I must have made it home cos I woke up the following day and my tights were still in one piece. On the floor.
The day after, I was supposed to return to Milan and I missed my plane. I booked myself on the next available flight (6am the day after) and I spent the night at Stanstead, drinking coffee and updating my Facebook status. Life in the fast lane.
Phil Dowsett from Fundaforest, Greentreeco and Zoofari came over to meet me and keep me company. We have planned to join forces to make this planet a better place. Youthful folly (without the "youth"). Watch this space...
More irrelevant bollocks coming up, will update as soon as I have a spare minute.
Like most of you, love only one and the rest, get ready for Bloodstock and Reading. I'll miss both events this year to hang out with my mum.
Mashed Head Pee xx
The Kerrang! Awards at The Brewery - Part I...
The day of the Kerrang! Awards. Exciting. Masto Brann gave me the choice of going to his hotel and getting in a cab with the band or turning up at The Brewery at 18:15 so I could walk into the K Awards venue with them. I opted to meet them at The Brewery and managed to get there five minutes too late. They had already gone in. Luckily, the lovely Emma from Warner came out to give me the ticket and I queued up to get the wristband. In front of me, the guys from Alice In Chains and behind me, Chester Bennington from Linkin Park. Awkward.
I went in and apologised to Brann, he introduced me to Stephanie (Corey's girl), I kissed and hugged Troy and then I went outside for a cigarette. There I bumped into Marco, Lacuna Coil's bassist. A slice of home, awesome. He and Mouse entertained me with their Italian slang about picking up chicks. Somehow they explained that Italian women are tough to get in the sack but once they give "it" to you, it's worth the wait and hard work. That's most probably what Chewie thought after we finally slept together last week. "Awesome" was the way he described it. And I cannot believe I actually gave into my favourite Wookie after two and a half years...it was totally worth it. Gaaaaargle.
Here with Marco from Lacuna Coil
As I chatted to the Lacuna Coil boys, Mike Inez from AIC came out for a cigarette. I went a little stiff (my five-inch heel got stuck on the irregular pattern of the cobbled pavement at the venue). Lacuna Coil toured with AIC in Australia so the boys hugged and kissed each other and exchanged a few pleasantries...Marco introduced me to Mike and as we all got locked in conversation, the AIC bassist wondered how yesterday's Sonisphere show went down. The LC guys didnt attend the festival so that was my cue to spit a few words out in the presence of the member of one of my favourite bands growing up..."The sound was perfect and I enjoyed the two new songs," I offered. "Which ones did we play," Mike asked. "I cant remember their titles, I just know what string to hit on my bass..." How cute are these artists that pretend to be total retards?! Jerry Cantrell also came out for a cigarette and he looked serene...unlike the last time I met him - it was 2002 and three months after Staley died - when he was constantly in a bad mood, slightly inhebriated and walked out on the interview. Blessssssssss
I went inside to mingle and chatted with Sarah (Lees, Century Media) and the other Lacuna Coil boys, saw Cristina and glam CM boy Dave Gulvin. I also bumped into a dear buddy I used to hang out with years before, Amanda Williams who won awards for best pr for the Bloodhound Gang's 'Hooray For Boobies' campaign back in the day. I then posed for pics with Machine Head Dave McClain and Masto Brann, then Brann and I made our way into the ceremony hall. We sat on the Masto table that was near the stage. I told him that I felt they'd win the award for Best Video. "We are the only ones nominated in that category," he joked. As it turned out, Mastodon DID win that award for 'Oblivion' and they'd had been told in advance. "Why the fuck didnt you tell me?" I raised my right eyebrow (I was too sloshed to lift the other one up). "You said you felt we'd win," Brann grinned. "And you were right, so..."
Masto Brann is always so sweet with me...
The ceremony began shortly after Troy, Darren and Brent sat down. Squeezed between Brent and Brann, I knew that entertainment would mostly come from our table. Brent started to throw stuff at the stage pretty much from the start so I encouraged him by pointing at items on the table that were loose and useless. I didnt expect him to go for the full beer cans but that's Mr Hinds. He does not discriminate. We ate rubber snakes (sweets), drank beer and white wine...I got inhebriated very quickly though I managed to behave myself. There's always a first time, eh?
With Masto madman, Brent Hinds...
As I looked around the room, I saw Alice In Chains and Robert Trujillo from Metallica at the table behind us. Linkin Park and Buckcherry on our left and Limp Bizkit two tables to our right. It was both surreal and indifferent at the same time. I was at the table with my favourite peeps anyway. Remember that mantra 'there could never be enough Mastodon in my life?" It still stands and right now I wonder how far that'll go. The Grammys next year?
Gotta get ready to catch my plane back to Milan now. In Part II of this super irrelevant blog, what happened when Limp Bizkit went on stage, why did Corey Taylor picked up an award wearing a brown bag and what went on during the aftershow, aside Ad Sales Birgit Martinussen wrestling me to the ground in the foyer? Plus, Brann dragged me over to the Met Bar with various members of Anthrax, Slipknot, Metallica, Machine Head etc...a surreal night seen from the eyes of a drunken Biatch hanging out with her favourite Masto peeps.
One band was missed - Coheed and Cambria. Luckily, their manager Blaze was hanging out at the ceremony. Always a pleasure to see him.
Here with Blaze James, manager of the awesome Coheed and Cambria
Loathe most of you, still love only one - Chewie and the rest get lost in Wes Borland's newly bleached barnet.
Mashed Head Pee :) xx
ps. more pics of this night on Facebook...
I went in and apologised to Brann, he introduced me to Stephanie (Corey's girl), I kissed and hugged Troy and then I went outside for a cigarette. There I bumped into Marco, Lacuna Coil's bassist. A slice of home, awesome. He and Mouse entertained me with their Italian slang about picking up chicks. Somehow they explained that Italian women are tough to get in the sack but once they give "it" to you, it's worth the wait and hard work. That's most probably what Chewie thought after we finally slept together last week. "Awesome" was the way he described it. And I cannot believe I actually gave into my favourite Wookie after two and a half years...it was totally worth it. Gaaaaargle.
Here with Marco from Lacuna Coil
As I chatted to the Lacuna Coil boys, Mike Inez from AIC came out for a cigarette. I went a little stiff (my five-inch heel got stuck on the irregular pattern of the cobbled pavement at the venue). Lacuna Coil toured with AIC in Australia so the boys hugged and kissed each other and exchanged a few pleasantries...Marco introduced me to Mike and as we all got locked in conversation, the AIC bassist wondered how yesterday's Sonisphere show went down. The LC guys didnt attend the festival so that was my cue to spit a few words out in the presence of the member of one of my favourite bands growing up..."The sound was perfect and I enjoyed the two new songs," I offered. "Which ones did we play," Mike asked. "I cant remember their titles, I just know what string to hit on my bass..." How cute are these artists that pretend to be total retards?! Jerry Cantrell also came out for a cigarette and he looked serene...unlike the last time I met him - it was 2002 and three months after Staley died - when he was constantly in a bad mood, slightly inhebriated and walked out on the interview. Blessssssssss
I went inside to mingle and chatted with Sarah (Lees, Century Media) and the other Lacuna Coil boys, saw Cristina and glam CM boy Dave Gulvin. I also bumped into a dear buddy I used to hang out with years before, Amanda Williams who won awards for best pr for the Bloodhound Gang's 'Hooray For Boobies' campaign back in the day. I then posed for pics with Machine Head Dave McClain and Masto Brann, then Brann and I made our way into the ceremony hall. We sat on the Masto table that was near the stage. I told him that I felt they'd win the award for Best Video. "We are the only ones nominated in that category," he joked. As it turned out, Mastodon DID win that award for 'Oblivion' and they'd had been told in advance. "Why the fuck didnt you tell me?" I raised my right eyebrow (I was too sloshed to lift the other one up). "You said you felt we'd win," Brann grinned. "And you were right, so..."
Masto Brann is always so sweet with me...
The ceremony began shortly after Troy, Darren and Brent sat down. Squeezed between Brent and Brann, I knew that entertainment would mostly come from our table. Brent started to throw stuff at the stage pretty much from the start so I encouraged him by pointing at items on the table that were loose and useless. I didnt expect him to go for the full beer cans but that's Mr Hinds. He does not discriminate. We ate rubber snakes (sweets), drank beer and white wine...I got inhebriated very quickly though I managed to behave myself. There's always a first time, eh?
With Masto madman, Brent Hinds...
As I looked around the room, I saw Alice In Chains and Robert Trujillo from Metallica at the table behind us. Linkin Park and Buckcherry on our left and Limp Bizkit two tables to our right. It was both surreal and indifferent at the same time. I was at the table with my favourite peeps anyway. Remember that mantra 'there could never be enough Mastodon in my life?" It still stands and right now I wonder how far that'll go. The Grammys next year?
Gotta get ready to catch my plane back to Milan now. In Part II of this super irrelevant blog, what happened when Limp Bizkit went on stage, why did Corey Taylor picked up an award wearing a brown bag and what went on during the aftershow, aside Ad Sales Birgit Martinussen wrestling me to the ground in the foyer? Plus, Brann dragged me over to the Met Bar with various members of Anthrax, Slipknot, Metallica, Machine Head etc...a surreal night seen from the eyes of a drunken Biatch hanging out with her favourite Masto peeps.
One band was missed - Coheed and Cambria. Luckily, their manager Blaze was hanging out at the ceremony. Always a pleasure to see him.
Here with Blaze James, manager of the awesome Coheed and Cambria
Loathe most of you, still love only one - Chewie and the rest get lost in Wes Borland's newly bleached barnet.
Mashed Head Pee :) xx
ps. more pics of this night on Facebook...
Sonisphere festival, 2nd Aug - $200 haircuts, Alice in Chains, Mastodon, Lamb of God and the rest!
I slept on the floor in a room I shared with Nelly, Silvye and Nina at the Holiday Inn in Stevenage. I wore my back ache with pride on Sunday 'cos I was still high on Sancho from the day before. Excited about the more metal proposition on the bill that day and looking forward to seeing Chewie meant that I only had one meal that day: breakfast. Who needs to injest food to generate fuel when your adrenalin reserves are in overdrive? I had no idea what to expect from Chewie that day though I was looking forward to seeing him. As Nelly and Nina went on to work, Silvye and I made our way to the site in a very leisurely fashion. First person we bumped into when we got there was Masto drummer, Brann Dailor. Gosh, always a pleasure, Brann is fun to chat with and whilst he went off to sort some stuff out with his tm, Silvye and I made our way to the big stage to watch Killing Joke.
The show lasted 30mins but it was ace. Jaz Coleman still resembles a nepharious man of the cloth notwithstanding the fact that life has ploughed a few extra lines on his face. Did they play 'Life Like Blood'? Yes.
We also watched Lamb of God on the main stage. As Silvye, Gillian and I got there, Lamb of God had been on for a couple of songs. This young dude comes over to me and whispers in my ears "Hey, would you flash your tits for me?" He seemed disappointed when I laughed so hard in his face that his features changed a la 'Mask'.
As we got out of the main festival enclosure to return to the vip artist bar after vocalist Randy Blythe bellowed such tracks as 'Walk with me in hell' and 'You got something to die for...', we bumped into Masto Brent. "Patrizia, do you know where our dressing room is?" Ahem. Brent, do I look like your tour manager? I directed him to the area where I'd last seen Brann and he ran off after Lamb of God's Randy Blythe who in the meantime had got off stage and was just a few metres ahead of us. Blesssssssss...love Brent.
After spending an hour or so in the vip bar, Silvye and I made our way to see Mastodon...very cool sound and fab show all 'round. From 'Oblivion', 'Crack the Skye' and 'The Czar' to 'Blood and Thunder' and a handful of older tunes, the Atlanta boys played to the most intense of their abilities. After the show, Silvye and I took a shortcut to return to the vip artist bar that meant we had to walk past the back of the stage. We bumped into the sweaty Masto boys and I introduced Silvye to Troy, Brann and 'let's party' Darren. Brann told me he had to do a bunch of interviews but wanted to have a beer and hang out afterwards. "Do you have the blue wristband?" He asked me. "Oh yeah," I reassured him. "We have the right wristbands, we can go everywhere..." As we were about to leave, someone screamed "Patrizia, you're not going to say hi to me, then?" It was Masto Bill. "You had a haircut since I saw you in Oslo?" I wondered. "Yeah, I did, in Copenhagen, it cost me $200..." Silvye and I then left them to it and returned to the vip artist bar and sat down with two guys we didnt know. Will works at SJM. "I met one of your colleagues, Johnny Phillips at the Coheed and Cambria Neverender shows in London last December...I'm a huge fan of Coheed, in fact my term of endearment for them is Sancho..."
Here The Biatches with Travis, Claudio and Mic from the awesome "Sancho" (aka. Coheed and Cambria) at Sonisphere...
Will then introduced me to his mate Craig who was sitting next to him. "Craig is obsessed with Coheed..." And that was it. Craig and I got locked into nerd conversation about Sancho whilst Silvye and Will just looked at each other, gobsmacked. Are these two for real? I could see it in their eyes. Now Craig is one of my friends on Facebook...
Here at the backstage vip bar with 'mad-for-Coheed' fan Craig, Sonisphere festival...
It was soon time to watch Feeder. I always thought of them as very wishy-washy back in the day. On Sunday, I loved their show. Hardly surprising as my taste in music has softened up in the last couple of years - Panic at the Disco, anyone? I bumped into Total Rock Talita Two-Shoes and caught up on a bunch of bollocks, including seeing Sancho the day before. "Did you get a "wide-on" during the Coheed and Cambria show?" Talita asked me. And what the fuck is that, I wondered..."It's the female equivalent to a "hard-on"," she retorted. "Think about it..." Aaaa-hhhhhhhhaaaaa!!! Yes, I did. No doubt about it.
After that, Silvye and Nelly went to watch Limp Bizkit. I stayed put and chatted with Lee, Nina and Masto fan Brian, an American guy that lives in the UK and follows Mastodon nearly as much as this Biatch over here. Then the girls from Nemhain (Amber and Lisa) and Paradise Lost Greg Mac came over to say hi...bumped into Aaron and Nick from PL too and told Nick I really wanted to see their show but they were on too early (11:50am). Nick told me I'd not missed anything. It was time to go over to see Alice in Chains. The '90s' grunge super group put on a fab 'greatest hits' show ('Would?', 'Them Bones', 'Man in a Box'...)whilst showcasing two songs ('A looking in view' and 'Check My Brain'), from the new album 'Black gives way to blue'. Cool gig, with vocalist William Duvall doing his best to balance those big shoes to fill and doing it in his personal style. Duvall hits all notes though he cannot fill them with the same growls and vibratos as Staley did. Layne spoiled us all with his distinguished delivery and I still miss it.
I made my way back to the vip artist bar after AIC to find Nelly and Silvye but bumped into Nina and Lee again. Masto Brann came over to say hi and mentioned he'd done all his interviews that day. He was now a free man with a beer in his hand. I asked him whether he would be going to the Kerrang! Awards the day after. He nodded and asked me whether I'd be there. "No, I wont be there this time 'cos there are no spaces for foreign media this year..." So Brann rang someone and when he came off the phone, he said "I can get you in..." Fuck yeah! That man is so good to me. Then Nelly and Silvye came over to get me to watch Nine Inch Nails. The gig was very intense if highly disappointing. Reznor obviously picked the most chilled out tunes in his repertoire and played for himself rather than the crowd. I could hear people chatter around me whilst the sound coming from the stage was rather low. We returned to the vip artist bar disappointed. To me, Nine Inch Nails make the ultimate music to fuck to. Though on Sunday, they entertained like old people make love. If they do at all, that is.
Next: Metallica...the headliners...James Hetfield...the birthday boy...wearing cream cake in front of 50 000 people (and loving it).
Head Mashed Pee
The show lasted 30mins but it was ace. Jaz Coleman still resembles a nepharious man of the cloth notwithstanding the fact that life has ploughed a few extra lines on his face. Did they play 'Life Like Blood'? Yes.
We also watched Lamb of God on the main stage. As Silvye, Gillian and I got there, Lamb of God had been on for a couple of songs. This young dude comes over to me and whispers in my ears "Hey, would you flash your tits for me?" He seemed disappointed when I laughed so hard in his face that his features changed a la 'Mask'.
As we got out of the main festival enclosure to return to the vip artist bar after vocalist Randy Blythe bellowed such tracks as 'Walk with me in hell' and 'You got something to die for...', we bumped into Masto Brent. "Patrizia, do you know where our dressing room is?" Ahem. Brent, do I look like your tour manager? I directed him to the area where I'd last seen Brann and he ran off after Lamb of God's Randy Blythe who in the meantime had got off stage and was just a few metres ahead of us. Blesssssssss...love Brent.
After spending an hour or so in the vip bar, Silvye and I made our way to see Mastodon...very cool sound and fab show all 'round. From 'Oblivion', 'Crack the Skye' and 'The Czar' to 'Blood and Thunder' and a handful of older tunes, the Atlanta boys played to the most intense of their abilities. After the show, Silvye and I took a shortcut to return to the vip artist bar that meant we had to walk past the back of the stage. We bumped into the sweaty Masto boys and I introduced Silvye to Troy, Brann and 'let's party' Darren. Brann told me he had to do a bunch of interviews but wanted to have a beer and hang out afterwards. "Do you have the blue wristband?" He asked me. "Oh yeah," I reassured him. "We have the right wristbands, we can go everywhere..." As we were about to leave, someone screamed "Patrizia, you're not going to say hi to me, then?" It was Masto Bill. "You had a haircut since I saw you in Oslo?" I wondered. "Yeah, I did, in Copenhagen, it cost me $200..." Silvye and I then left them to it and returned to the vip artist bar and sat down with two guys we didnt know. Will works at SJM. "I met one of your colleagues, Johnny Phillips at the Coheed and Cambria Neverender shows in London last December...I'm a huge fan of Coheed, in fact my term of endearment for them is Sancho..."
Here The Biatches with Travis, Claudio and Mic from the awesome "Sancho" (aka. Coheed and Cambria) at Sonisphere...
Will then introduced me to his mate Craig who was sitting next to him. "Craig is obsessed with Coheed..." And that was it. Craig and I got locked into nerd conversation about Sancho whilst Silvye and Will just looked at each other, gobsmacked. Are these two for real? I could see it in their eyes. Now Craig is one of my friends on Facebook...
Here at the backstage vip bar with 'mad-for-Coheed' fan Craig, Sonisphere festival...
It was soon time to watch Feeder. I always thought of them as very wishy-washy back in the day. On Sunday, I loved their show. Hardly surprising as my taste in music has softened up in the last couple of years - Panic at the Disco, anyone? I bumped into Total Rock Talita Two-Shoes and caught up on a bunch of bollocks, including seeing Sancho the day before. "Did you get a "wide-on" during the Coheed and Cambria show?" Talita asked me. And what the fuck is that, I wondered..."It's the female equivalent to a "hard-on"," she retorted. "Think about it..." Aaaa-hhhhhhhhaaaaa!!! Yes, I did. No doubt about it.
After that, Silvye and Nelly went to watch Limp Bizkit. I stayed put and chatted with Lee, Nina and Masto fan Brian, an American guy that lives in the UK and follows Mastodon nearly as much as this Biatch over here. Then the girls from Nemhain (Amber and Lisa) and Paradise Lost Greg Mac came over to say hi...bumped into Aaron and Nick from PL too and told Nick I really wanted to see their show but they were on too early (11:50am). Nick told me I'd not missed anything. It was time to go over to see Alice in Chains. The '90s' grunge super group put on a fab 'greatest hits' show ('Would?', 'Them Bones', 'Man in a Box'...)whilst showcasing two songs ('A looking in view' and 'Check My Brain'), from the new album 'Black gives way to blue'. Cool gig, with vocalist William Duvall doing his best to balance those big shoes to fill and doing it in his personal style. Duvall hits all notes though he cannot fill them with the same growls and vibratos as Staley did. Layne spoiled us all with his distinguished delivery and I still miss it.
I made my way back to the vip artist bar after AIC to find Nelly and Silvye but bumped into Nina and Lee again. Masto Brann came over to say hi and mentioned he'd done all his interviews that day. He was now a free man with a beer in his hand. I asked him whether he would be going to the Kerrang! Awards the day after. He nodded and asked me whether I'd be there. "No, I wont be there this time 'cos there are no spaces for foreign media this year..." So Brann rang someone and when he came off the phone, he said "I can get you in..." Fuck yeah! That man is so good to me. Then Nelly and Silvye came over to get me to watch Nine Inch Nails. The gig was very intense if highly disappointing. Reznor obviously picked the most chilled out tunes in his repertoire and played for himself rather than the crowd. I could hear people chatter around me whilst the sound coming from the stage was rather low. We returned to the vip artist bar disappointed. To me, Nine Inch Nails make the ultimate music to fuck to. Though on Sunday, they entertained like old people make love. If they do at all, that is.
Next: Metallica...the headliners...James Hetfield...the birthday boy...wearing cream cake in front of 50 000 people (and loving it).
Head Mashed Pee
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Sonisphere festival, 1st Aug - High on Sancho (aka Coheed and Cambria)!
Major boner all day due to the fact that Nelly and I would be seeing Coheed and Cambria live again - together. When we got to Knebworth, however, we were welcomed by the news that Sancho had missed their ferry from mainland Europe, they'd be late, had to be bumped off to a smaller stage and that was in case they made it to the site. PANIC! One of the reasons I came down to Sonisphere in the UK was to see Coheed and Cambria. So, Nelly took it upon herself to check the band's dressing room at regular intervals. In the end, they turned up, got to the vip artist bar for an interview with Channel 4 and Nelly grabbed them for a quick photo opportunity. Nelly and I with Mic, Travis and Claudio. I stood between Claudio and Mic. Too hot. I could have had a chat with them but I went miserably shy. What a twat. The lovely Coheed manager, Blaze snapped away and the band ran off right afterwards to get ready for their performance. Shame. I wish I could have chatted with bassist Mic Todd. I'm a sucker for witty peeps with gorgeous blue eyes.
That day, since Nelly was working, I spent a lot of time with her sister, Silvye who suffered through my insane obsession with Coheed and Cambria. What if they didnt turn up? What if they turned up but we'd miss them? What if they didnt play "The Hound"? As it happened, they didnt...The countdown to Sancho (every hour on the hour) took a deeply obsessive turn at around midday. When they finally got on stage, Nelly and I screamed like a couple of teenage dickheads on speed. When they kicked off with "Welcome Home", we ruptured an artery each. People around us stepped out of the way. Then "Ten Speed (of God's Blood and Burial)", "A Favour House Atlantic", "The End Complete III: The End Complete", "No World for Tomorrow", "Gravemakers and Gunslingers", "In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3"...Nelly and I were high on Sancho for the rest of the day. The day after, I kept talking about that awesome performance to anybody that would ask me what I thought of the bands on Saturday and I even chewed Coheed manager's Blaze's ear off about Sancho again at the Kerrang! Awards on Monday, 3rd August. On Sunday 2nd August, I happened to meet a guy who is just as insane about Coheed as this Biatch - Craig. We're now friends on Facebook. How old am I, again?
Anyway, the bloody pic with Sancho is in Nelly's camera and she has not downloaded it yet...I am dying to see it big on screen now...
Meanwhile in the VIP artist bar, Silvye and I mingled with a bunch of industry peeps and the odd musician (even though I only had eyes for Coheed). The lovely Gillian introduced us to Griffin (16) and Austin Dickinson (18), the two lovely boys whose father is best known as the vocalist in Iron Maiden. Lovely boys. Though, no, I was a perfect lady this time around. Austin's band 'Rise To Remain' performed at Sonisphere on the Sunday...but since they went on at the ungodly hour of 12:15, I missed them. Damn. The boys told me that Lauren (Harries) was also around, though I didnt bump into her until the night of the Kerrang! Awards...
Bands I watched by mistake on Saturday:
SOIL - new vocalist sings like a pre-pubescent boy whose voice is breaking any min.
ALIEN ANT FARM - are they still relevant?
Bands I heard on the way to the tent where COHEED AND CAMBRIA were supposed to perform:
HEAVEN AND HELL - very cool, Dio still got the lungs of the gods.
Next, Sunday at Sonisphere...Killing Joke, Mastodon, Alice In Chains, Lamb of God, Nine Inch Nails...
Metallica will have their own post and so will the Kerrang! Awards...
Mashed Head Pee
That day, since Nelly was working, I spent a lot of time with her sister, Silvye who suffered through my insane obsession with Coheed and Cambria. What if they didnt turn up? What if they turned up but we'd miss them? What if they didnt play "The Hound"? As it happened, they didnt...The countdown to Sancho (every hour on the hour) took a deeply obsessive turn at around midday. When they finally got on stage, Nelly and I screamed like a couple of teenage dickheads on speed. When they kicked off with "Welcome Home", we ruptured an artery each. People around us stepped out of the way. Then "Ten Speed (of God's Blood and Burial)", "A Favour House Atlantic", "The End Complete III: The End Complete", "No World for Tomorrow", "Gravemakers and Gunslingers", "In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3"...Nelly and I were high on Sancho for the rest of the day. The day after, I kept talking about that awesome performance to anybody that would ask me what I thought of the bands on Saturday and I even chewed Coheed manager's Blaze's ear off about Sancho again at the Kerrang! Awards on Monday, 3rd August. On Sunday 2nd August, I happened to meet a guy who is just as insane about Coheed as this Biatch - Craig. We're now friends on Facebook. How old am I, again?
Anyway, the bloody pic with Sancho is in Nelly's camera and she has not downloaded it yet...I am dying to see it big on screen now...
Meanwhile in the VIP artist bar, Silvye and I mingled with a bunch of industry peeps and the odd musician (even though I only had eyes for Coheed). The lovely Gillian introduced us to Griffin (16) and Austin Dickinson (18), the two lovely boys whose father is best known as the vocalist in Iron Maiden. Lovely boys. Though, no, I was a perfect lady this time around. Austin's band 'Rise To Remain' performed at Sonisphere on the Sunday...but since they went on at the ungodly hour of 12:15, I missed them. Damn. The boys told me that Lauren (Harries) was also around, though I didnt bump into her until the night of the Kerrang! Awards...
Bands I watched by mistake on Saturday:
SOIL - new vocalist sings like a pre-pubescent boy whose voice is breaking any min.
ALIEN ANT FARM - are they still relevant?
Bands I heard on the way to the tent where COHEED AND CAMBRIA were supposed to perform:
HEAVEN AND HELL - very cool, Dio still got the lungs of the gods.
Next, Sunday at Sonisphere...Killing Joke, Mastodon, Alice In Chains, Lamb of God, Nine Inch Nails...
Metallica will have their own post and so will the Kerrang! Awards...
Mashed Head Pee
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Fascinating and vomit-inducing subject at the same time
More fascinated by the scientific studies dedicated to such vomit-inducing subject:
http://health.discovery.com/centers/loverelationships/articles/fallinlove.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falling_in_love
I am currently feeling more sick than usual. It is PMT time so every man for himself.
Miss Pee
Friday, July 17, 2009
Mastodon, Lamb of God, Metallica in Zurich, in the company of a young buddy...
The last few days have been hard-going. Partying is serious business.
From Entombed and Rotting Christ in Genoa where I hung out with the Roadrunner Inchiavabili, Barbara and Elena and the might ISIS in Turin with Corrado, Stefano, Barbara and Elena again, I have hardly had a moment to catch my breath. So, I was kind of looking forward to hanging out with 23-year-old Marcin on Thursday - skinny-dipping in Genoa. However, the lovely Masto fashion guru, Lou The Genius got me a couple of tickets and passes for the Mastodon, Lamb of God, Metallica show in Zurich, so Marcin and I ended up in Switzerland on Thursday night.
I went out on a semi-date with Marcin on Friday last week that turned into a proper date. We hung out until 10am the following day. I ended up telling my mum about him cos I returned home on Saturday morning with a huge love bite on my neck. Marcin was mortified. I was entertained. And requested him to stamp my neck with a few more of different colours and sizes "next time we'd meet".
A couple of good love bites, right here.
I do not "hang out" with Italian guys unless they are childhood friends. Marcin was brought up in Italy but is of Polish descent *big aaaaaaahhhhhh* He is handsome, gallant, magically endowed and the fact that he is a smart and witty conversationalist helps his case quite a bit. We set off from Milan at midday on Thursday. The trip to Zurich is supposed to take three and a half hours though for reasons beyond our control (two unbearably long queues on the way), we checked in at 7pm. As soon as we reached the border, a Swiss official requested that we pay a €30 road tax. "It'll last until January 2010," she explained. "We are only going for the day," I informed her. "I cannot make an exception for you guys," she continued. "The law is the same for everyone." There is more than one rigid asshole country in Europe then, isnt there. And oddly enough, it is also as expensive and boring as the other one.
Marcin behind the wheel on the way to Zurich, Thursday...
I believed Lamb of God to be the first band on that night. I was wrong. It was Mastodon. So, as we arrived at the venue and picked up tickets & passes and realised that we missed the 'don, I was gutted. Luckily, Marcin was grateful for the opportunity to see two bands he'd never seen live before (LOG and Metallica - blesssssss!). "Right now, I adore you," he whispered. "Get real, baby," I teased him. "You adore me ALL the time."
We managed to see Lamb of God perform five tracks amongst which "Walk with me in Hell", "You got something to die for" and "Redneck". Marcin went to fetch some beer. I enjoyed the Lamb of God show though, not sure I mentioned that before but I was GUTTED that we'd missed Mastodon. Marcin had cracked his skull open during the Masto show at Gods of Metal in Milan a couple of weeks ago and he admitted he loved their performance there. He was intent on getting into the pit for LOG had there been one. "What the fuck is up with you people," vocalist Randy Blythe shouted at the Swiss crowd. "You look like a bunch of pussies!" Marcin couldnt have agreed more. He returned after one song disgusted at the lack of a proper wall of death. "These fucking Swiss are a bunch of losers," he screamed in my ear. "They have no idea how to mosh." Bless his youthful folly.
Randy Blythe and Willie Adler...
When Metallica got on stage, Marcin had no time to look for a pit. He was totally transfixed by the veterans' performance. "This is the band I grew up with," he beamed. "I hope they play 'Master of Puppets'." Anyone that has had the fortune to see at least a date on this tour knows that Marcin got his wish. From 'Harvester of Sorrow', 'Enter Sandman', 'For Whom the bell Tolls', 'Sad but True', 'Cyanide', 'One', 'Nothing Else Matters' and 'Master of Puppets', Metallica got the crowd going. I had already seen the Newark show and knew what was coming though I was rather fascinated by James Hetfield's beard that has since turned a shiny shade of silver. Still a lovely specimen and one of the few over 40 men that I would not kick out of bed.
James Hetfield, hot as fuck
I wondered about one thing...the black balloons that some smartass unleashed onto the crowd during the last song, 'Seek And Destroy'. They might have been printed with the Death Magnetic logo but I'd seen that before at another gig in New York earlier this year: Thursday. Emo as fuck. Ahem.
Metallica, Hallen Stadion, Zurich
A fan clutches her Death Magnetic balloon at the end of the show. (I had to fight to keep three boys out of the picture. "Would you please move, I'd like to take a picture of the girl..." soon turned into "Move! I only want the girl in the picture!" that became "GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY, I JUST WANT THE FUCKING GIRRRRRRRRRRRRL!!!!" as I physically pushed two of them away. Typical men, they think the world is a much better place if they're in it.
At one point I excused myself to go to the loo and Marcin insisted on accompanying me even though he didnt need to go himself. I do not need a chaperone but I surely appreciate a man with manners.
With Marcin at the end of the night (both quite mashed), outside Hallen Stadion, Zurich
The return trip to Milan was as outrageous as the way to Zurich. It took us seven hours to cover the 300km distance. Luckily, Marcin was full of beans and kept me entertained all the way home. He even played a variety of albums by Rammstein, Marilyn Manson, Lamb of God and Metallica until he introduced me to few songs off an album by a Polish band called Hunter. They sing in Polish so he translated some of the words as the vocalist sang. Lyrics that inspired us to start a philosophical conversation. If this guy were a little older...
Marcin then dropped me off at my friend Elisa's place in Milan and then he set off for Monza, where he lives. Italian hospitality is awesome. It was out of the way for him but he still made sure I got to the place I was supposed to go. Barbara did the same after we hung out in a bar in Rho on Sunday and so did Stefano (Cerati, Rock Hard It) who gave me a lift to Turin to see Isis on Monday and took me home afterwards. Sweet peeps, the lot of them.
Marcin drives and sings 'The Beautiful People'
I might just take a 'day off' from the party lifestyle tomorrow...ahem...
Barbara and her Turin buddies are supposed to come over to hang out in Milan so no chance to get a break here. I'll be out with them.
I'm off to see the Mastodon, Lamb of God, Metallica show in Oslo in just over a week. I am going to make damn sure that I'll catch the Atlanta boys this time. Not cos I've never seen them before but cos there can never be enough Mastodon in this Biatch's life...
Mastodon: awesome musos, lovely boys (photo by Jimmy Hubbard)
Like some of you, used to love only one and the rest, get busy keeping Hetfield's silver fox beard trimmed.
Mashed Head Pee
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Down rip Turin a new bum hole whilst I do my best to throw the dirty Shroud in a local washing machine!
Not usually big on religious relics, I have been excited about visiting the Museum of the Sacred Shroud for a few days now. Mainly 'cos historical remains fascinate me. The lovely Barbara from Roadrunner got me in touch with one of RR's street-teamers from Milan, Stefano and we set off at half 10 in the morning. A carpenter by trade, 20-year-old Stefano is a huge Slipknot fan. He grew up with them, he told me on our hour-and-a-half car trip to Turin.
The main reason for the trip was to see Down live last night and hang out with Barbara and Elena from RR. During the day, however, Stefano and I walked around Turin, ate ice cream, chatted about music and visited both the Egyptian Museum and the Sacred Shroud. Considering we had never met or spent so many hours together before, we didnt end up clawing each other's eyes out.
(here with Stefano after nine hours together - not bad)
The Egyptian Museum in Turin is the second biggest in the world after the Cairo Museum. Never been to Cairo, I had visited the Egyptian section of the British Museum a few years back so I was looking forward to the one establishment that turned all Egyptian things up a notch. Fascinated more by the dry dead peeps wrapped in hay, mud and cloth than their vases and hair combs, I hurried along the various rooms and floors, eager to see some dessicated bodies in need of a good manicure. I wish I could have stayed for the night...
(with my favourite dry Egyptian buddy inside the Egyptian Museum in Turin)
I had no idea that Stefano was not a fan of museums. In fact, he only mentioned it in passing as we left the Egyptian one. "When you told me by email that you wanted to visit some museums in Turin," he offered non-chalantly, "I wanted to kill myself." That's good to know now. I howled like a Banshee and dragged him to the next one to see the Sacred Shroud. "You'll be glad you see it," I told him in between giggles. "When you travel outside of Italy, you're bound to be asked about it so you'll have something to talk about then." Ahem. It is actually yet to happen to me but that's hardly shocking as I lived in Oslo surrounded by the black metal brigade the last six years.
(here next to the statue of some Pharaoh, Egyptian Museum, Turin)
We then went over to the Shroud Museum and Stefano was even less keen to get in...the old peeps manning the place were so enthusiastic, helpful and willing to give him a discount (cos he is a young pup) that he agreed to come in with me. Discount: €1. I tried to pass for an over 65 citizen (they get free entry) but it didnt work. They explained to us that the Shroud inside the chapel was a copy and that the real one was in the Dome. So what the fuck had we just paid €11 for? "You cant see the real Shroud until April 2010," explained one of the over 70 (years old) volunteer. "It'll be open to the public for one month next year if you want to come back." I doubt I'll be flying over to Milan just for that. "In this museum you'll see a 15min video of the history of the Shroud as well as more in-depth information and relics downstairs," she continued. "You cannot take pictures in the museum downstairs but you can take pictures of the Shroud in the chapel upstairs, right at the end of your visit..." Anyone knows the way to the nearest launderette? That dirty ol' cloth could do with a 90 degree wash, I thought. Mainly cos it would have broken their zealous old hearts had I expressed such heresy to their cute seasoned faces.
(nice flowers on the altar...what, is there a bloodied cloth behind me, really?)
They gave us two audio guides that looked like toy telephones, showed us the way to the museum downstairs and left us to it. There were cameras everywhere so Stefano suggested that I should film the inside with my video camera whilst pretending to answer it like a mobile phone (it is that tiny). So I did. "Hello, good to hear from you," I started talking to myself as I pressed "record". I obviously looked like a complete cunt but I filmed the gorgeous crown of thorns under the glass case and the three nails used to hold people to the cross...outrageously huge and thick. Ouch. As we got to the chapel, things began to heat up a little. Mainly in my throat as I was giggling so much. There I was with another over 70 eager Italian citizen very excited to show this relics to someone / anyone whilst my trip buddy Stefano was feeling a bit sleepy (he'd slept through the whole 15min documentary on the Shroud). I asked Stefano to take a picture of me next to the Shroud as I sniffed a bouquet of flowers on the altar. The whole situation felt ridiculous but what the fuck, it is not like I hang out in such places every Sunday. Stefano had been such a good sport that when we got out of the museum, I treated him to the best ice cream in Turin *neck explodes*
As our stomachs rumbled, we met up with Barbara and Elena of RR, went out for dinner and exchanged a bit of goss...my pizza got cold quickly. Spent more time laughing and chatting than eating...
Down were booked to play this local venue that used to be one of the most notorious nut houses in Italy - the Manicomio of Collegno. As the Italian Parliament passed this law where all nut jobs got released suddenly from such institutions, a lot of those patients were run over by the local train whilst some of them just hung themselves cos they had no family or friends on the outside anymore. Notwithstanding the sepulchral veil that loomed over that area, it was rather charming to be inside a venue that I'd heard about so much when I was a kid. I felt like a tourist in my own country.
(with Stefano, Elena and Barbara in the nut house grounds in Collegno)
Opening band, cant remember their name something Mammouth..., are a favourite of the Down tour manager. A three-piece from Alessandria, they sounded rather like High On Fire - quite cool indeed. When the New Orleans super group Down got on stage, the crowd went crazy and as vocalist Phil Anselmo joined them, it was clear who their Italian fans were there to see...never a huge fan of the jammy type stuff they proposed since their debut, I somehow got them last night. It was like a huge frying pan falling from the sky hit me on the forehead. Loved the show and I'd definitely see them again with glee next time they perform in a town near me. Anywhere my ass happens to land I'll check them out again. From 'New Orleans is a Dying Whore', 'Ghosts of the Mississippi', 'Nothing in Return' and the awesome 'Bury me in Smoke', Down fired off on all cilinders from start to finish.
(Down on stage...)
On the last track, Pepper Keenan handed his guitar over to Phil Anselmo's girlfriend who jammed with the rest of the band like a pro on speed. It is always awesome to see women who can give as good as they get. If there is someone I would love to have a chat with is certainly that Biatch. Never mind her famous boyfriend. I was transfixed by her technique and confidence...I support women with balls so, little Mrs Anselmo, I am coming to hassle you at some point soon. Watch out.
As Stefano drove me home last night, I told him I was very supple and flexible - in case he had space for me in his suitcase. He will be in Portugal for a week and is attending this festival in Lisbon where Metallica, Lamb of God, Mastodon and a bunch of other bands are performing today...but no chance. So, what's next? This death and black metal festival in Genova on Saturday with Entombed and a bunch of other necro bands. It's all going to end in tears. Looking forward to it.
Loathe you all, love only one and the rest can get on a plane to Oslo for all I care. I'll be there myself for a few days at the end of July. Boo!
Miss Pee
ps. I have a date with a 23-year-old hottie tomorrow night. I never thought I'd bother to hang out with guys in Italy but he seems rather cute so...
The main reason for the trip was to see Down live last night and hang out with Barbara and Elena from RR. During the day, however, Stefano and I walked around Turin, ate ice cream, chatted about music and visited both the Egyptian Museum and the Sacred Shroud. Considering we had never met or spent so many hours together before, we didnt end up clawing each other's eyes out.
(here with Stefano after nine hours together - not bad)
The Egyptian Museum in Turin is the second biggest in the world after the Cairo Museum. Never been to Cairo, I had visited the Egyptian section of the British Museum a few years back so I was looking forward to the one establishment that turned all Egyptian things up a notch. Fascinated more by the dry dead peeps wrapped in hay, mud and cloth than their vases and hair combs, I hurried along the various rooms and floors, eager to see some dessicated bodies in need of a good manicure. I wish I could have stayed for the night...
(with my favourite dry Egyptian buddy inside the Egyptian Museum in Turin)
I had no idea that Stefano was not a fan of museums. In fact, he only mentioned it in passing as we left the Egyptian one. "When you told me by email that you wanted to visit some museums in Turin," he offered non-chalantly, "I wanted to kill myself." That's good to know now. I howled like a Banshee and dragged him to the next one to see the Sacred Shroud. "You'll be glad you see it," I told him in between giggles. "When you travel outside of Italy, you're bound to be asked about it so you'll have something to talk about then." Ahem. It is actually yet to happen to me but that's hardly shocking as I lived in Oslo surrounded by the black metal brigade the last six years.
(here next to the statue of some Pharaoh, Egyptian Museum, Turin)
We then went over to the Shroud Museum and Stefano was even less keen to get in...the old peeps manning the place were so enthusiastic, helpful and willing to give him a discount (cos he is a young pup) that he agreed to come in with me. Discount: €1. I tried to pass for an over 65 citizen (they get free entry) but it didnt work. They explained to us that the Shroud inside the chapel was a copy and that the real one was in the Dome. So what the fuck had we just paid €11 for? "You cant see the real Shroud until April 2010," explained one of the over 70 (years old) volunteer. "It'll be open to the public for one month next year if you want to come back." I doubt I'll be flying over to Milan just for that. "In this museum you'll see a 15min video of the history of the Shroud as well as more in-depth information and relics downstairs," she continued. "You cannot take pictures in the museum downstairs but you can take pictures of the Shroud in the chapel upstairs, right at the end of your visit..." Anyone knows the way to the nearest launderette? That dirty ol' cloth could do with a 90 degree wash, I thought. Mainly cos it would have broken their zealous old hearts had I expressed such heresy to their cute seasoned faces.
(nice flowers on the altar...what, is there a bloodied cloth behind me, really?)
They gave us two audio guides that looked like toy telephones, showed us the way to the museum downstairs and left us to it. There were cameras everywhere so Stefano suggested that I should film the inside with my video camera whilst pretending to answer it like a mobile phone (it is that tiny). So I did. "Hello, good to hear from you," I started talking to myself as I pressed "record". I obviously looked like a complete cunt but I filmed the gorgeous crown of thorns under the glass case and the three nails used to hold people to the cross...outrageously huge and thick. Ouch. As we got to the chapel, things began to heat up a little. Mainly in my throat as I was giggling so much. There I was with another over 70 eager Italian citizen very excited to show this relics to someone / anyone whilst my trip buddy Stefano was feeling a bit sleepy (he'd slept through the whole 15min documentary on the Shroud). I asked Stefano to take a picture of me next to the Shroud as I sniffed a bouquet of flowers on the altar. The whole situation felt ridiculous but what the fuck, it is not like I hang out in such places every Sunday. Stefano had been such a good sport that when we got out of the museum, I treated him to the best ice cream in Turin *neck explodes*
As our stomachs rumbled, we met up with Barbara and Elena of RR, went out for dinner and exchanged a bit of goss...my pizza got cold quickly. Spent more time laughing and chatting than eating...
Down were booked to play this local venue that used to be one of the most notorious nut houses in Italy - the Manicomio of Collegno. As the Italian Parliament passed this law where all nut jobs got released suddenly from such institutions, a lot of those patients were run over by the local train whilst some of them just hung themselves cos they had no family or friends on the outside anymore. Notwithstanding the sepulchral veil that loomed over that area, it was rather charming to be inside a venue that I'd heard about so much when I was a kid. I felt like a tourist in my own country.
(with Stefano, Elena and Barbara in the nut house grounds in Collegno)
Opening band, cant remember their name something Mammouth..., are a favourite of the Down tour manager. A three-piece from Alessandria, they sounded rather like High On Fire - quite cool indeed. When the New Orleans super group Down got on stage, the crowd went crazy and as vocalist Phil Anselmo joined them, it was clear who their Italian fans were there to see...never a huge fan of the jammy type stuff they proposed since their debut, I somehow got them last night. It was like a huge frying pan falling from the sky hit me on the forehead. Loved the show and I'd definitely see them again with glee next time they perform in a town near me. Anywhere my ass happens to land I'll check them out again. From 'New Orleans is a Dying Whore', 'Ghosts of the Mississippi', 'Nothing in Return' and the awesome 'Bury me in Smoke', Down fired off on all cilinders from start to finish.
(Down on stage...)
On the last track, Pepper Keenan handed his guitar over to Phil Anselmo's girlfriend who jammed with the rest of the band like a pro on speed. It is always awesome to see women who can give as good as they get. If there is someone I would love to have a chat with is certainly that Biatch. Never mind her famous boyfriend. I was transfixed by her technique and confidence...I support women with balls so, little Mrs Anselmo, I am coming to hassle you at some point soon. Watch out.
As Stefano drove me home last night, I told him I was very supple and flexible - in case he had space for me in his suitcase. He will be in Portugal for a week and is attending this festival in Lisbon where Metallica, Lamb of God, Mastodon and a bunch of other bands are performing today...but no chance. So, what's next? This death and black metal festival in Genova on Saturday with Entombed and a bunch of other necro bands. It's all going to end in tears. Looking forward to it.
Loathe you all, love only one and the rest can get on a plane to Oslo for all I care. I'll be there myself for a few days at the end of July. Boo!
Miss Pee
ps. I have a date with a 23-year-old hottie tomorrow night. I never thought I'd bother to hang out with guys in Italy but he seems rather cute so...
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