Tales From The Middle Of Nowhere (Vol.2)

Yes comrades. So, Singapore then? It was great. I do like that gaff. Very exotic. It pretty much amounts to a gigantic shopping mall. Nice place. Nice people. Very hot. Very wet.

The Grand Prix was in town. Seems like a right laugh. Absolutely mobbed with your Top Gear mob. Not Clarkson etc . . . but your motor enthusiast. Squares, golfers, United fans . . . you know the type? Gig's were great. Bit mad but very enjoyable all the same.

Had a very bumpy flight to Hong Kong or as your Aussie calls it "Honkers".

Massive electrical storm hit about 10 minutes after we landed which was a stroke of luck . . . it was spectacular!! Have you been here? Crazy place. Dripping with money. I've never seen so many billboards advertising watches. Literally ten's of them. What is the obsession with fancy watches anyway? What's the obsession with snide fancy watches? They're a pain in the fucking arse. Once they put a clock in your phone . . . that's it innit? Sorted.

Gig was ok. Wasn't really in the mood. Not been feeling well of late. Doesn't help when people keep saying "You ok? You don't look well".

I think time might be just catching up with me.

Off to Taiwan in the morning. Where all the shit gear in the world used to be made until the Chinese said, "Hang on . . . shit gear? We can do that better and cheaper than any fucker!"

In other - more important – news, I have learnt to play "Let's Dance" by that David Bowie fella on my guitar!!!! It might be up there with my greatest musical achievements of which there are literally a few . . . anyway gotta go. I'm not feeling well.

ONWARDS.

GD.

Yes comrades . . . we cool?

Now, the last time we spoke I was getting ready for a show in Taipei, (that's in Taiwan). It was grey, wet and miserable. Not the gig . . . that was great. Very enthusiastic crowd spoiled only by the obligatory fat English idiot relentlessly shouting out random song titles. I'm not really sure what the point of all that would be. I'm not likely to suddenly come to the conclusion that actually all these songs I'm playing and have been playing for . . . hmm . . . I dunno . . . A FUCKING YEAR might actually not be very good and . . . oh yeah . . . I totally forgot about that song "I Will Believe” . . . shall we do it now . . . RIGHT NOW!!?!?!?!!?!?! Great night all the same.

Left town the next afternoon, just before a typhoon arrived. There'd been a warning the day before. It was a bit touch and go whether the plane was gonna be able to take off. I'm not sure what's worse in those situations . . . spending another night in a hotel or trying to fly home through the front end of a typhoon? The locals didn't seem to be too bothered, so off we went. It was a fairly bumpy ride I have to say, but we arrived home safe and sound. Which is more than could be said for our bags what didn't arrive home until 2 days later. Barely had time to unpack before we had to leave again for Germany which is where you find me now. In Dusseldorf..or "doozle-dorf" as your local would say. You ever heard of that band "Dusseldorf"? Kind like that other band "Neu"? If kraut rock is your thing check 'em out.

Anyway I'm bored of this now.

IN A BIT.

GD.

Comrades.

The gig in Doozle-dorf was not the best. Not for me anyway. I must tell you I've got glandular fever and have been suffering with it for nearly a month now. Been feeling my age recently.

Good job I've only got 5 weeks left and not 5 months eh? Did not feel up for it that night in Doodle-dorf anyway. My old voice is a little shot and if I'm being honest it is well past this tour’s bedtime (so to speak). Still, we soldier on and like I say only 5 long weeks left.

SAYING THAT . . . a couple of gigs in my spiritual home of Italy is enough to perk anybody up and true to form the gigs in Florence and Bologna had enough healing properties to raise the dead, let alone give a tired man a lift!! They were unbelievable nights. 2 of the very best.

What is it with you Italians? Why do you seem to "get it" more than anyone else? It's a constant source of fascination for me. On the other hand it also means one spends most of the time trapped in hotels as you can't leave for fear of being kidnapped or trampled to death or kissed to within an inch of your life (these are not complaints . . . just observations!). These people sing their own versions of songs in between the songs they've paid to see you sing!! They sang for Mancini! They sang for Balotelli! They sang very nearly every Oasis song imaginable! The girls flashed there upper regions! They laughed and then they cried and then they surrounded the hotel thus ensuring that there could be no conceivable way to enter it without all the aforementioned things taking place again!

ITALY? WHY ALWAYS YOU??

ONWARDS.

GD.

PS: I'm back in Germany again (who's routing this fucking tour)!