The next day we had an early start for a photo shoot with photographer Nic Shonfeld. Location was a public byway in Brighton on a hill between KempTown and the racecourse. Nic was using an old medium format camera making the most of the available light and surrounding scenery. Doing a simple outdoor shoot with no digital processing or false light was a welcome change to the usual protocol of photo shoots these days. It was biting cold but Nic wasn't overly fussy and the shoot didn't take all that long once we'd worked out a good setting.
The next day saw our debut gig in Guildford. After a short drive from Brighton we arrived at The Boileroom; a friendly little venue on the side of a busy road. After sound check Eamon, his wife Koren, Matt (of ESP and Restless List fame, guitar tech-ing for us) and myself went on a little pub crawl. We had a drink in a pub called The Live and Let Live which was one of those places where everyone turns and stares at you in silence as you walk in. All except the pub dog; a large old Alsatian who gave us a couple of feebly obligatory barks as if to say "I'm supposed to scare you off but I really can't be bothered and would much rather sit here by the fire". We drank up quick and moved on further into town.
A pub called The Keep near Guildford Castle (dont worry, I didn't know Guildford had a Castle either) looked like a good old ale drinkers pub from the outside but inside it had been raped of any character it once had and strongly resembled an Ikea showroom. The bar maid greeted us by telling Matt and Koren that they'd have to show her some ID. Koren wasn't drinking so it didn't matter but Matt had no ID. Matt (who is 26) and I tried to reason with her and we could tell that she realised she'd made a mistake but the bar manager stepped in and said "If you've been asked you have to provide ID". We decided to leave. By this point we were fearing that there were no decent pubs in Guildford but then we found The King's Head; a large busy tudor pub that had obviously been there for a long time. After a couple in there we headed back to the venue. On the way back we passed some sort of youth club where through the window we could see a loud band playing to an excitable bunch of kids. We watched for a while before we realised that the band were doing an emo-punk version of Rhianna's Umbrella. Very entertaining.
Our gig was good that night despite a few strange feedback issues early on in the set. We played for a bit longer taking a few requests and slotting some extra songs in at the spare of the moment. A good debut for Guildford.
After another day off in Brighton on the Saturday, we set off on tour properly on Sunday and made our way north to Manchester.
The reports said snow and snow it did. Pretty much as soon as we got on the M25 the flurries came and it got heavier the further north we got. It really started to settle after we'd arrived at Moho Live and within hours Manchester was turned white.
We'd never played this venue before but it had a good on stage sound and we had a good sound-check. Support that night came from Airship and Ten Bears who were both really good and some very friendly bunches of lads. Our set was highly enjoyable and we played for even longer again. The general consensus now is that the longer our sets are the better.
The snow fell hard all night and continued through the morning. We'd opted to leave our gear in the venue overnight so before we could set off we had to load out in the snowy conditions. Once packed up we headed south to Cardiff to play at Tommy's Bar. The white wash hadn't hit the south west yet but the snow seemed to follow us down. A short while after we'd got there a thick layer of snow began to settle. The venue was in Cardiff University's art school, a little way out from the centre of town. We were expecting it to be the usual soulless Union bar but the place had a nice character about it. We managed to get our back drop up for the first time (all the other places so far had been too small) and it looked good.
Support that night came from the wonderfully named Gindrinker; a two piece consisting of a guitarist who also operated a drum machine and a guy spouting Fall-esque rants and occasionally blowing a cornet. They were uncomfortably satisfying in their own special way and ended their set with the guitarist sitting and playing on the bar. We had probably our best show of the tour so far that night, and probably our best ever show in Cardiff. There was a nice intimacy about the venue and the crowd were with us all the way. The snow continued to fall during our set and after the gig people were out in the quad having snowball fights.
The next morning the snow had compacted and frozen and people were finding it difficult to exit the M4 services car park. I watched out my window as cars slid around and generally didn't move anywhere particularly fast. Luckily our tour manager Ric had the foresight to get the van out of there before the rush so we left the service station with relative ease.
It was off to Exeter for us, only a couple of hours down to M5 so seeing as we had a bit of extra time we decided to hunt for a somerset cider farm. It was ridiculously easy to find one, we turned onto the A38 and almost straight away spotted a sign for Sheppy's cider shop. It was a nice and sunny afternoon when we found the place. We had some tea and cake in their tea shop, had a look around the museum which mainly consisted of old farm tools, and then hit the shop to taste and buy several types of cider and cider related products. It was a perfect mid tour activity.
It had been about 5 years since any of us had been to the Exeter Cavern, except for Eamon who played a solo show there last year. It hadn't changed much, tiny dressing room covered in lurid graffiti, awkwardly shaped stage and the lingering smell of human faeces emanating from the toilet. Still, Brakes had never played here before so we were up for it.
The in house sound guy was late so there was quite a bit of waiting around before sound-check. Somehow we just couldn't get the sound right and we ended sound-check feeling a little apprehensive about the gig. We were glad to have our mates Johny and Sally, together known as Cottonmouth Rocks, supporting us that evening. They used to live in Brighton before moving to the west country a couple of years ago. Johny is also known in his solo incarnation as Thirty Pounds of Bone and is also a founding member of Drift Records who put Tom's solo album out last year. It was good to see them and their set was excellent.
COTTONMOUTH ROCKS
Also attending were two of Eamon's brothers Josh and Ross and Ross' wife Rhea. Both brothers had been living abroad in New Zealand and Taiwan respectively and myself, Tom and Alex hadn't seen them for quite some time.
The first 20 minutes of our set were a bit of a roller-coaster. The sound was all over the place and we had to re-level a lot of stuff. But once we got into it it turned into a pretty good gig. The venue had looked sparse before we played but with everyone in the room it felt quite packed. An enthusiastic rocker with long, curly ginger hair called Victor head banged down the front.
We sort of got chucked out after the gig. Obviously with family present we wanted to have a wee drink and do a bit of catching up but the security got a bit shirty with us. There was a slight stand off and a bit of word slinging between the bouncers and the Hamilton brothers who never need an excuse to question authority, but eventually we managed to talk security into backing off as long as we looked like we were actively getting ready to leave.
The next day wasn't a gig day but we had a BBC 6 Music live session with the wonderful Marc Riley. After a leisurely drive back up to Manchester we loaded in to the studio and did our thing. Marc always manages to make live radio feel pretty relaxed, more like you're just playing a private gig to him in his living room. After the session we got some dinner and had a few drinks in the glamorous Travelodge bar.
It was off to Sheffield the next day and although Sheffield and Manchester are a stone's throw apart we had to keep an eye on the roads because the weather had caught up with us again. Our preferred route of Snake Pass was closed so we took the non scenic route and sure enough when we got there Sheffield was deep in snow.
We've played the Fuzz Club a couple of times before, and were honoured to be playing their tenth birthday party. Support came from the brilliant Slow Club, a local boy girl duo who we'd met briefly before at the At Home by the Sea festival in Brighton last year. Whilst setting up we realised we'd left our drum stool at the BBC, whoops! And in pure ironic brilliance Slow Club's drummer Becky drums standing up. You couldn't write that shit! It wasn't a complete disaster though and Alex managed to fashion something drum stool-ish out of a seat and a flight case.
Last time we played Fuzz Club there were kids going mental ripping the monitors off the stage. However this time it was little more reserved and attendance had obviously suffered from the weather. We played well though and by the end we had a wee mosh pit going and i think we'd won over most there. We all got a bit pissed after the show. Glover and Zed from past support band Tiny Dancers were present and it was good to see them again and have some drinks. Turned out they were mates with Slow Club so a bit of a Brakes/Sheffield posse partay went down.
We eventually left and drove to our designated travelodge which was busier than usual due to the Pussycat Dolls playing at some local stadium somewhere. Shortly after parking up a crack lady came to the driver side window. "Have you got any tools?" she asked Ric. We didn't have any and upon Ric questioning as to what she needed tools for she gave us a bizarre sob story about her card being swallowed by the ATM and that she needed the tools to get the money out. "I know the moneys in there, i just need to get it out" We all started pissing ourselves laughing. "I've called the bank but they wont send anyone out", she was now crying. It was sad that someone can feel so desperate for drugs that they have to come up with a story like that. She wandered off eventually and across the snowy car park we could see she was with a man who'd obviously sent her over to turn the water works on and suss us out. Another addition to the list of dark things that happen in hotel car parks late at night on tour.
We eschewed the nearby Little Chef in the morning, however what we ended up eating halfway down the A1 a few hours later was just as expensive and still made me feel sick. It was icy going on the roads but eventually we got to Cambridge for our penultimate gig of the tour. The Junction is a big venue by our standards so to make up the numbers the promoter had booked 4 local supports. This meant the place was full of screaming teens, excellent! The weather was an issue too and in order to make sure people could get home the whole gig was running early and to a tight schedule meaning we'd be done by 11 and could drive back to Brighton without it getting too late.
I'd noticed on our facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/pages/BrakesBRAKESBRAKES/21107817478?ref=ts) someone had posted a message that seemed to state they were coming all the way from Phoenix, Arizona to see us that night. I assumed that must mean they were in the UK already for some other reason. "Why would anyone come so far to see us?" I thought. But sure enough Scott and Jess had come all the way from Phoenix, Arizona to see us play on a snowy night in Cambridge, in fact they wanted to see us in Brighton but left it too late to get tickets. Well.... we were so flattered that we added them to our guest list for Brighton straight away. Not only were they possibly the most dedicated fans we'd ever met but they also loved WEEN! If you're reading guys- thanks again, great to meet you! Hopefully see you in Phoenix.
The gig itself was good although most the screaming teens went home and someone through a cup at Eamon's head. This was even more poignant seeing as pre-gig we'd been watching youtube footage of Nickleback's Chad Kroeger being stoned off stage in Portugal. Obviously a plastic cup isn't quite as severe as a tirade of rocks so we took it with a chuckle and a pinch of salt. We left the stage and were instantly begged to go back on and play more due to a party of people from Norwich arriving late and missing most the show due to the snow. We obliged.
Brighton's legendary Prince Albert was the venue for our final night of the tour. Manager Will used to run The Free Butt, the venue where Tom, Alex and myself first cut our teeth in this rock business some 11 years ago. Tonight's show was sort of a testament to Brighton's musical community. My nephew Patrick came down to sound-check. He is 3 months old and although he and his parents had to go before we even played anything, he got a chance to hear some amplified bass and sit behind a drum kit looking cute and slightly confused in his lime green ear protectors.
Stuart Flynn and the Dirty Cakes were brilliant in support and Kinema were sublimely poppy. The place was heaving for the entire night and I don't think i'd ever seen it that full. We took the stage and started sweating, the heat was bewildering but we rocked hard. Hometown gigs are always slightly strange. Its hard to gauge how well they go because you just feel ultra paranoid performing to all your friends and family but post gig reports were good. Will gave us a lock in afterwards and laid on a good many crates of beer. Tour was over, all was good.
Cheers
Marc
