Redcoats' Tour Diary: Part Four

Newcastle

The first time we met Newcastle was a little while ago now but the relationship is only now beginning to flourish. Many moons ago we checked into a little bar on the main strip and began setting up what seems to be now, a lot less gear, for our first attempt at devouring a few new fans from Newcastle. The show began with an acoustic show by some local who managed to frighten the three heads within the venue out, and really breathe some warmth into the now empty room.

He was followed by a blind pianist, backed by a middle aged band of enthusiastic blue collars, who were clearly relishing the chance of a night away from home and the potential hangover. This was equally as frightening as the opener, and if I remember correctly some of the bar staff had to leave during the gig, simply due to the fact no patrons were present to turn their backs and leave. As we got up on stage to get ourselves ready the venue told us of the 'no rider' policy, much to our dismay, and when we were about to kick up a stink, the stage was taken over by a group of local thespians.

Dressed as teachers, firemen and the local sheriff, they began to sing and dance in formation, outlining through a cute little jingle that alcohol and drug related violence should be a thing of the past. Once finished, we cordially gave them a round of applause for being the most entertaining support of the night. The room still empty, we plugged in, turned up and turned around to find people promptly flooding in. Within moments, much to our surprise the small room was scattered with brand spanking new faces. I was quick to announce that the venue had a no rider policy and that we had driven 12 hours to get here, and once again, our new friends were quick to surprise. The stage was filled with bourbon and coke, beer, vodka and all assorted goods. We gave them a surprise in return and played with all the pent up energy we had acquired within the trip.

Making a point of our beginnings in Newcastle really puts our work over the past years into context for me. We started on a very personal note with these music lovers and we have managed to maintain it throughout five or six gigs. From 25 people drunk and merry to 150 drunk and pleasingly friendly. I have realised that Newcastle, specifically, is where we have made the most friends through our music. The same faces that were at the first dingy gig, were all at our most recent gig with an abundance of friends. Singing our songs, and still as into music as they ever were.

Opening this time around were a young local band call Maids. They were enthusiastic and definitely entertaining. A really primitive sound and well energetic, they had a cool following really getting into their ever-evolving eccentric performance. Next was our dear friends Royston Vasie. To put it simply these four dudes have got it down, they are all about having fun. Nothing overly serious, but always seriously juicy. They pull off pop songs, and genuinely get a vibe ripping through any venue. MUST SEE ROYSTON VASIE!

We then jumped onto the stage and the crowd pushed up front, camera phones out, smiles prevalent and a certain assurance of connection. We knew each other, we had met before, and we knew that we were going to have some fun. That feeling is sometimes hard to find when playing, that feeling of friendship. Newcastle has a way of offering comfort and friendship that I am yet to experience as strongly in other places. No arms crossed, no care for whether people see you singing along, no worries of perception. We all love music, and we had a great fucking time. It's the way it should be, always. I take pleasure in saying that Newcastle will always be a place we run back to for a hit of something a little more powerful. 

Onward, pizza, kebab, ginger beer and drunk loitering. Back to the hotel, quick flick through the late night SBS channels, fingers crossed. Nothing but the back of the eye lids.

Sydney

Something seriously frightens me about our wake up call. I'm unsure as to whether it is waking to another man laying next to me, a handsome one at that. Perhaps the fact I'm slightly attracted to my band mates scares me. It could easily be the gigantic goliath of a man in Dr Martin who storms through the door like a whirlwind and in a really passive aggressive voice, gently whispers, “Get up mother fuckers, it's time to go.” Nevertheless, whatever the fright is, I always wake up. A good sign. This day was important, we were playing Sydney. We awoke with an air of confidence but acknowledged the pinnacle of a circuit, being the Annandale and its abundance of label reps, assorted media, and the ever daunting crossed armed stern gig goers presence.

Game day, the one you prime yourself for. Sydney is the illegitimate hell hole for Aussie rock bands, well speaking on behalf of ours anyhow. For some reason, a wall of people always meets us and a strong wall at that. It's the type of wall you want to explode through and leave it in tatters. You want to combust the people into a million pieces, sprawled with tiny little scriptures upon them that then scatter into the night's sky, falling on unsuspecting peoples shoulders – spreading the word of an amazing gig. We knew what we wanted to do.

First things first, breakfast, coffee, good vibes. Everyone just chill out, and enjoy the experience. It's a necessity, to find a cosy establishment which treats your blood stream to one of life's essential nectars, caffeine. The lads from Vasie had worded us up about a nice little joint around the corner from the Cambridge. We spent way too long trying to find this place, and with the assistance of a co-pilot, navman, and shaded memory, we managed to get increasingly frustrated at how lost we were. Finally, we found it, instantly being replenished by the plethora of friends and family awaiting. It never ceases to amaze me, how the right gathering of personalities can set any worries or heaviness at ease – eradicate its weight and allow you to float up into the height of life. Georgia, our lovely manager's beautiful young daughter was running about the cafe, banana bread in hand, jumping in puddles and levitating in the reminder of innocence and fun.

Leaving with the breathe of life in us, the subdued excitement for the evening's gig and full stomachs, we were ready for one of the best car trips Australia has to offer. The drive from Newcastle to Sydney is a memorable one. With the right tunes, or a comfortable silence, the surroundings are as tranquil as any I've known. Water meets mountain and forests meet sky. No sky scrapers to be seen. We have been lucky to do it a few times now, and in comparison to others, it is one I would love to do for a long time to come.

As the metropolis sneaks into the horizon, the real meaning of our evening kicks into action. We have a quick beer at the Sando in Newtown whilst Doc measures up the room for some new project he has in mind. Traffic doing its best to slow us down, we forced our way through to the rock hole of many before us, and ourselves before the Annandale. In one smooth burst of energy, and with the help of crew, we made the stage ours and set up ready for a focused sound check. I was using in ears tonight for the second time ever, and although I was familiar with them, hints of uncertainty crept into my mind as to whether tonight's gig was the right time to give them a test run. When in doubt, go with gut instinct. Fuck it, if not in front of a full room, an important collection of ARIA goers, then when? So we ran through four or five songs, and gave them a serious go and decided that we were all checked and ready to go.

The first band, Dead Love, are Sydney-siders who play a tight brand of rock and roll, not dissimilar to the sound of Melbourne boys Fangs. Very cool, rock'n'roll. They got everyone going, and helped us erode the Sydney crowd's veil. Royston Vasie then kicked into action as they always do with extreme negligence to seriousness, beautiful. They thrashed about the stage and had everyone swaying and humming about. We then spent a little time wandering about the empty hallways up above, warming up, warming down, focusing in on that little portal behind your eye lids that enables you to ease into all the things you have learnt together, all the things you have taught yourself and foresee the gig before you.

We got up onto the stage, tonight was going to go our way. People jumped about, screamed our words to us, and knew the majority of our album as well as us. It was a treat, a memorable gig. We started in fifth and finished in fifth. The gig was electric. My favourite of the whole tour. For the first time, we truly connected with the people of Sydney, managing to completely lift the veil off of them and see eye to eye. Encores ensued, and ease kicked in. A fun gig, a game turned into reality, and a real point of execution for us.

Drinks, smokes, kisses, laughter and back to the hotel room. It was a hard night to sleep, the wheels within me were wound up like a toy car, ready to race in any direction you pointed me.

The Annandale Hotel.

Canberra

Supposedly not many bands stop off in Canberra, but we had been once or twice before. This gig was as memorable as our first for different reasons. The first time we came, we played to three well-dressed chairs that we had put in front of the stage. The second time we came we met a 19-year-old prostitute who asked us all to sign beautiful breasts. This time, she was there once again. Luckily for us Transit Bar had squeezed in a hundred or so more folk in also. It's easy to let your mind wander on the last gig of a tour. You have done exactly what you wanted to do previous to that gig, and you feel really accomplished like nothing could change the way you have gone about it. We played a good show. I'll say it was good because even our bad shows seem to have reached a pretty cool level in which they still reach a level of enjoyment for the crowd. We enjoyed Royston Vasie for the last time on the same stage as us, and then jumped up on stage and ripped through an hour or so of drunk rock'n'roll. It was sloppy, but everyone had a great night, crowd included.

The whole tour was successful for us, much more so than we expected. We performed the way we wanted to and definitely made new friends and fans. I wish it went for another three years, but for now I'm satisfied. We were lucky to play with such a good crew of musicians along the way and really get along like a brotherhood of artists, doing the things we love, enjoying the people we love, and spreading the universal language of music to as many that wanted to come and see. The next time is too far away, but for now, Meredith will give me my fix of others music. I'll go along and dream up some dreams that one day may come true. I know we just lived a dream on the road touring our debut record, so fuck, who's to say the rest won't come true?

Packing for the last time.

Who's rollin'? Until next time…

By Emilio Mercuri