This blog is the third chapter in my daily journals chronicling my first tour as a rock artist. In the previous entries I recalled my journey across the Atlantic and our shows, in London, Warsaw, Prague, Berlin and Zurich. I soaked my laundry in vodka, thanks to a helpful tip from my friend Duff McKagan, and then I completely lost my voice in Prague and could barely speak! My adventures continue in Part Three…
Saturday, April 26
4:40 pm
Utrecht, Netherlands
Awoke in the Netherlands. By late morning, the bus drove through Utrecht, and I was enchanted by the city’s picturesque canals I glimpsed through the windows. This city looks like a vision from a storybook!
Stepping into the venue, TivoliVredenburg, I was impressed by the beautiful room’s towering balconies. For the first time on our tour, I will have members of the audience flanking me directly on either side! I’ll have to remember to give them a shout out.
While the crew unloaded, I wandered into Utrecht, unprepared for the chaotic festivities all around me. An ocean of noisy revelers spread out beyond sight in all directions. Today is apparently King’s Day, which is clearly a big deal for the Netherlands. The streets were flooded with thousands clad in bright orange shirts, wigs, and flower necklaces. A caravan of raucous party boats floated beneath the stone bridge from which I watched police mounted on horseback trot through packed streets. I felt swept up in the energy of this euphoric crowd of diverse and beautiful people.
Soundcheck went well today. Jai has hurdy gurdy tuning down to a science. One would never guess he’d never seen the instrument, hell probably never heard of it, before a couple weeks ago.
I am now once again backstage at TivoliVredenburg. Still feel lightheaded and dizzy. Brendan says he’s also feeling dizzy. Perhaps this is some kind of phantom motion sickness from having spent so many hours gently rocking on the bus. Like being seasick, I imagine. Still, the room is lightly spinning. Hopefully that’s what’s going on, and I’m not getting sick.
Monday, April 28
9:20 am
Brussels, Belgium
Well, I think its safe to say my health was actually in a pretty terrible place back there in Utrecht. Days have passed since I last wrote. I spent the previous thirty-six hours in a shuddering, sweat-soaked fever dream nightmare haze. Let me back up.
Saturday’s show in Utrecht went very well! Some of the guys said it was our best yet.
I wish I could say I felt the same for my own performance, but in truth, as the performance wore on I felt my energy slipping. By the end, I was just trying to stay on my feet. Backstage after the show, as I slipped my drenched shirt off my body, my skin tingled, my body shuddered, and my teeth rattled. I had a fever. I could ignore this no longer.
I pulled Frankie aside and asked for help. We decided to call a doctor the following day. So, I crawled into my bunk and tried to sleep while the bus took us to Belgium. Symptoms grew worse throughout the bumpy night. When at last the bus pulled up to our Brussels hotel around noon, I stumbled my way to my room where I collapsed in bed. A few hours later, Frankie came in with a doctor. She was a cute young Belgian woman, but I was too afflicted with fever to even try to be charming! After a brief check-up, she gave me a prescription for antibiotics. They left and I fell into a sleep that felt like a coma.
Bless Frankie, he went out to fill the prescription. No small task, as it turned out. Three or four pharmacies (that claimed online to be open Sundays) were all closed. Undeterred, Frankie ultimately prevailed and finally brought me the medicine in the early evening. I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn’t received those antibiotics for another twenty hours. By last night, I could barely get out of bed. I got the pills down my scratchy throat and passed out.
As I write this, the drugs have been in my system now for about eighteen hours. Even though I still feel absolutely awful, I am markedly better than I was yesterday. I’ve spent nearly twenty-four hours in this bed, broken only by a shower and a brief dinner and breakfast downstairs. I am grateful that my health is starting to improve for the first time in days. Please let this trend continue.
Monday, April 28
3:00 pm
Brussels, Belgium
I met my band and crew in the lobby in the morning today. I was moving slowly, barely speaking, trying at least to appear like I was a fully-functional human. Everybody was in incredible spirits, exchanging stories from an apparently unforgettable evening last night. Tales of dance clubs, karaoke, getting kicked out of an Uber, and all manner of mischief. And thanks to being sick, I missed out on all of it. Brussels, I owe you another visit!
Our venue, Ancienne Belgique, has a laundry facility backstage, and I made sure I got first call on it. Not a moment too soon! Over the last few days I have sweated through every article of clothing I brought. (Look, I’m sorry I keep talking about my fucking laundry, but I’m living the true rock star life here and I want you all to know about it LOL). I threw all my clothes in the washer and, feeling better, took a brisk walk around Brussels.
While I was exploring the city, an idea for a set change came to me that we could actually implement today. Back at the venue, I proposed to Brendan that we perform Outlander’s “The Skye Boat Song” as an encore, a song originally recorded by my wife Raya Yarbrough. Brendan and I took an acoustic guitar and accordion into my dressing room and worked out an arrangement. As music echoed through the narrow halls, our curious bandmates walked over, one by one. We asked them to learn this new song from scratch at soundcheck so we could perform it tonight. They were all game to try it!
Tuesday, April 29
1:30 am
Brussels, Belgium
Working the song out with the band during soundcheck this afternoon proved that “Skye Boat” was possible. The song isn’t technically difficult. Ironically, the most challenging part of the song was for Brendan, who kept breaking into tears as soon as he sang the soaring opening line, “Sing me a song of a lass that is gone.” Brendan is consistently able to hit this glorious high A on the word “gone,” and sustain it with a gentle vibrato, but then the note might frequently falter as tears welled in his eyes. Something about this opening line is incredibly emotional for him, as it is for me. This song has been a part of my family for over a decade, and I knew that playing it live in front of a crowd would be a special experience.
Despite having just learned “The Skye Boat Song” hours before, we nailed it with a flawless performance, as if we’d been playing it for years. The instant Brendan sang the opening line, “Sing me a song” the audience collectively gasped. Brendan successfully choked back his emotions during his vocal performance in front of the crowd, and even Pete seemed to tear up as he sustained his warm bass tones. Paul’s fiddle solo took me right back to the early days of writing this score, while Gene offered gentle snare drum rolls, Morgan played his frame drum, and Omer arpeggiated beautiful supportive harmonies. The lyrical song cast a spell over band and audience alike: the highlight of another great set.
I always thought I needed to end my show with a raucous party song like “Godzilla,” but at the moment I feel that “Skye Boat” is the proper finale, ending the evening on a joyous, communal, spiritual note. The song has been ringing relentlessly in my head for the last half hour, even after I’ve showered backstage and packed my bags to return to the bus.
The antibiotics are definitely working. I sang more tonight. Not beautifully, but I made actual sounds. I feel alive again for the first time in days, rejuvenated and inspired. Euphoric. I am grateful to feel my strength return at long last! Thank you, Brussels. And thank you, Frankie!
Tuesday April, 29
1:30 pm
Paris, France
I awoke in Paris, my first time in one of the world’s most beautiful cities. Our venue, Le Trianon, lies at the foot of Montmartre, so I brushed my teeth, left the bus and climbed what felt like hundreds of stone steps to the towering Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre, with its commanding view of all Paris, including the Eiffel Tower. Glorious. I grabbed a crêpe and coffee at a café, before exploring around the fabled Montmarte.
Returning to the Le Trianon, I realized this theatre is breathtaking. Even my dressing room looks like a five-star hotel room, complete with its own private bathroom and shower. Our crew was testing the sound system downstairs with a recording of us playing “Apocalypse” from a previous show that rumbled throughout the bathroom as I reveled in the hot water and rinsed the sweat and the last of the illness off my body.
Slash just texted me to ask how it’s going. It felt great to talk openly through the challenges and rewards of the last two weeks with him. He agreed it sucks being sick on tour, but assured me it’s an unavoidable part of the life. I am grateful I’ve been able to reach out to him, Duff McKagan, Serj Tankian, Jens Kidman, and so many other experienced friends for advice and support over the last couple weeks as I’ve navigated this crazy journey. Can’t imagine how I would have fared without them.
Wednesday, April 30
2:30 am
Paris, France
Paris, tonight you were amazing! The crowd at the front of the stage brought phenomenal energy. Folks were dancing in the balconies. And they sang, loudly!
An exciting, eccentric moment occurred tonight, one of those unpredictable things that can only result from live concerts. Brendan strummed a quick chord on his acoustic guitar in the pause before “Midnight Sun,” and surprisingly, the audience briskly cheered in response. Brendan strummed again, and they responded again, faster. This alternation continued faster and faster, Brendan and the audience performing a rhythmic and purely spontaneous duet, until the tempo hit a fever pitch and we exploded into “Midnight Sun” from The Singularity. Pure live concert magic!
The tour’s biggest technical issue occurred tonight during “Black Sails.” When I started playing the hurdy gurdy, a vile, horrifically wrong note blasted through the hall like a foghorn. Something was terribly wrong. I made a little comment about “technical difficulties” to the crowd and Jai ran out on stage to help me. We fumbled with the instrument for what felt like the longest minute of my life. Finally, with the issue fixed, we launched into a rowdy rendition of “Black Sails,” supported by the glorious singing voices of our French fans.
I’ve worked with Omer Ben-Zvi as a composer at Sparks and Shadows for more than a decade now, and he’s always been friendly but a little quiet. Finally, on this tour, I’ve seen his sense of humor and showmanship emerge. In Berlin, he bought a bright pink Hello Kitty branded guitar cable that immediately became an essential part of his set up. I almost cracked up in front of the audience tonight when I saw him wearing this black beret that he must have picked up at a tourist shop that afternoon. Suddenly, the mild-mannered Omer is on stage in front of screaming fans with a pink Hello Kitty cable, wearing a French beret, shredding his epic solos from The Singularity, as well as playing solos in the style of legends like Joe Satriani, Slash, Guthrie Govan, and Buck Dharma. I wonder what he’ll add next?
“Skye Boat” once again killed as an encore. This time, however, Brendan’s emotions got the better of him. His voice faltered and he nearly broke down into tears during the opening line, reflexively stepped back from the microphone. The crowd erupted into supportive cheers, as he collected himself and returned to sing the rest of the song perfectly: a heartfelt moment of connection between performer and audience. More magic.
After the show, Brendan and I met up backstage with a number of our distant relatives from the Armenian side of our family who now reside in France. Our family lines lost touch for a century until just a few years ago. I was thrilled they could come to our show, and they seemed blown away by what their two American relatives had just done on stage.
There were so many fans clustered outside our tour bus after the show that security set up barricades. Gene, Brendan, and I went out and signed autographs for half an hour before we climbed back on the bus to get some sleep. Tonight we head out to play a unique festival in Bruguières, in a small community in southwestern France. Tomorrow night’s festival performance will be the final one with my band on this unforgettable European tour. The end of the beginning is suddenly in sight.
Continued in Part 4.
-Bear
