Askew blog part 2

Askew blog part 2

A FEW DAYS IN MARCH


I played a Goodgreef gig last night. It was at a really cool venue called The View in a place called Frodsham. Don’t ask me where Frodsham is – I was on autopilot with Satnav in charge. Apparently The View is owned by the guys behind Tall Trees in Yarm. It’s similar in the respect that there’s a complex that includes a hotel and conference facilities along side the venue. The view at night from the terrace at the back of the club is amazing (no guessing where they got their name then). It overlooks a valley with a large expanse of water at the bottom and what looks like some kind of dockland area on the far side (river mouth? Sea? No idea.)

The gig was good. Judge Jules was on before me and I really got into his set. He played some seriously banging stuff. There were several power cuts through the night – cutting out not only the sound but also all the lights – which was nice. According to one of the bar staff it’s because of power surges at a local power station caused by birds flying into power cables.

I ask Jules the name of a killer track he played but couldn’t hear his response over the obscenely loud monitors. I thought I heard “Mac and Taylor remix” but I can’t hear a thing.

I get into my set and the crowd are up for it which is a rarity in the UK.

After the gig I go back to my manager’s room at the hotel and hang out for an hour before I escape to bed. I’ve drunk a few Redbulls tonight and the taste of them keeps coming back to haunt me every time I burp. Hideous.

In bed by 4
Up at 9 – shower, piss (Redbull flavour), remove moss from teeth.
On the road by 10.
Slipknot “All Hope is Gone” on repeat. Loud.

I get home at 1pm with the intention of going to the gym but the weather is just too lush to be inside. The gym can wait. It always does.

9am on a weekday is the best time to go to the gym.

8.30 is too early and 10 am is too late.

There is a small window to get this right and to do that you’re going to need to be going through the doors at exactly 9am. Any earlier and you’ll be walking into a surrounded by too much testosterone and muscle tissue – which unless you’re on that kind of form is going to make you look like the “new boy” (out of shape and feeble essentially). If you arrive too late you’re going to be dealing with hundreds of pre-school kids screaming and rioting in the pool area while their mums laze around on sun loungers talking about George Clooney and the price of eggs. Equally annoying.

If you arrive at exactly 9am however you will find the place inhabited by only old people – which is exactly what you want if your aim is to pretend to yourself that you’re in better shape than you actually are. The muscle has gone to work and the mums haven’t been awake long enough to complete the essential application of makeup and designer gym wear. So here I am – an accepted regular at the daily 9am meeting of the grey and wrinkly brigade. I my friends have joined them and they have welcomed me into the fold with open arms.

There’s a line of ten treadmills and all of them, bar mine, are occupied by old women gassing to each other about possible recipe variations to make the perfect Rhubarb Crumble. Fuck I look good next to you lot. I run for half an hour listening to a blistering drum and bass set from Andy C.

I get to the studio about 10.30 and crack on with a few special remixes I’m working on - one for Vandit and one for the 50th release on Discover records (Hampshire & Bissen’s “The Vault”). Both of them have been an absolute bitch to get right.. They’re nearly there though and they’re certainly ready to road test this weekend and the make any final changes when I get back to the office next week.

The traffic on the way to The Atomik Weekender on Friday is shit. Stuck for ages in a long line of cars that have come to a halt due to road works. Well, that’s what the signs say, but in truth there’s no work being done anywhere? Don’t you love that – the bastards shut two lanes of the motorway but then can’t be arsed to do anything with the area they’ve sealed off. I suppose they need time to rest after putting out all those traffic cones the poor loves. Maybe they can’t fnd anyone to do the work that needs to be done? Which would be ironic because supposed to be in a recession with high levels of unemployment.

On the final approach to the venue an asshole in a blacked out Range Rover cuts me up and almost forces me to crash into a parked car. He then takes an insane risk by overtaking three cars on a blind corner. He must be doing 110 miles an hour in a 40mph zone and the experience really puts the wind up me, adrenaline pumping like crazy. About 10 minutes later I come round a corner and see the Police have pulled the Range Rover over. Delicious. Hopefully he will be taken off the road for a year or two.

The gig is a sell out and so there is a real buzz around the two arenas. I get time to catch up with Simon Patterson and John O’Callaghan who I haven’t seen for ages and Willie Daniels from Inside Out which is cool. The gig itself is utter horseshit. It had the potential to be quite good, but just as I start playing some officials complain to the promoters about sound levels in our arena so 2 tracks into my set they cut the volume on the main rig to less than 10% of what is was before. The crowd are pissed off and start booing – at me. What a day. I max out all the volume controls on the mixer but it makes no difference – we might as well be huddled round a pair of fucking ipod headphones it’s so damn quiet. I can clearly hear people talking on the far side of the room – about 30 or 40 meters away. I jump down to the front of the crowd barrier n explain to the pissed off clubbers what has happened.

Walking back to my room through the maze of chalets that are all been occupied by ravers for the entire weekend is an experience to say the least. It’s only Friday – the first night in a 3 day weekend long rave and already there are casualties everywhere. This is a proper hard dance crowd and they like to party hard. Going to need ear plugs to sleep through this riot.

5.30am - asleep,
10am - awake.
12.30pm - in the car on the way to Blackpool. I’m playing at Syndicate tonight for Gatecrasher. My set’s not till 3am so lots of time to get to the hotel and hide.

Get to Blackpool at 3pm. Have a great sea view from my room. Order lunch and spend the afternoon downloading new music for my radio show and doing an interview for Urban Bug. Watch a truly bizarre film called “Sir Henry of Rawlinson End” while drinking a few cans of Kopparberg Pear Cider. The film is utter madness. Highly recommended. Kopparberg pear Cider. Where do I begin? This is a new find that can only be described as liquid sex. Christ, I could take a bath in this stuff. You know the juice created in your mouth when you suck a quality Pear flavoured boiled sweet – it’s like that – but cold and alcoholic. If only I’d known about this stuff when I was 13 getting smashed on Mad Dog 20/20 and Thunderbirds.

Go to sleep at 9.30pm. Alarm goes off at 2. Shower. Grab a lift to the club with Jason the promoter. It’s good to see him and we get a chance to catch up before we get to the venue. Watch the end of Signum’s set which is cool. Very uplifting and melodic with massive riffs for the hands in the air moment that the crowd greedily lap up. Really enjoy my set and after last night’s balls up at Atomik it’s nice to finally get a chance to hear my remixes on a quality sound system. They sound ok, but there is definitely a load of work still to do on both of them. Set comes to an end to quickly - wish I had an hour longer!!

Get back to the hotel at 5 and seeing the empty cans I smile as I pen an affectionate email to the Kopparberg brewery in Sweden…

a quality read

he loves my favourite cider

Mint read these like, seems like an absolute ace bloke!!!

Pear kopperberg ftw get the crates in for detox
Creased at the horse shit atomik set.. Tells it exactly how it is

without a doubt

Entertaining as standard!

Top geezer!

really good this this, his last one was as well, he sounds like mint crack Askew like

I used to love Kopperberg, but after vomitting it through my nose during some fucked up party at ours after We Love @ Space last year I'll probs never touch it again

I enjoy reading his blogs like. Some blogs I read and just don't buy into them at all and others are blatantly a half arsed effort by some skivvy, but these you can get right in to.

Cracking read

When he last played Evolve it was hilarious...

2 oriental kids at the bar in suits (clearly lost) drinking bottles of Champagne, Askew casually walks up to them both... stotting! takes a huge slurp out of one of the bottles in the ice bucket, the Chinese kids start kicking off so Askew apologises & orders 3 fresh bottles on the deal that they would neck all of them infront of him. In the mean time Askew's ordering all kinds of shots of fukin god knows what! squeezing them down their throats in-between these poor fuckers coming up for air.

...20 minutes later these 2 kids are total write off's, start sluring their words & begin to have another go at Askew before geting winged out of Digital

When he got the bottles in he went to give me a glass, though i had said no as im not a champagne fan. He pulled me to one side away from the kids and went "look, neither am i though im going to drink it to prove a fucking point to those cunts at the bar" before sticking the glass in my hand.

I followed one of the kids out of the club, and he stopped dead in front of the steps outside digital before falling face first into them.

Fucking creased, i was actually only thinking and laughing to myself about this earlier on today

He seems a top geeza his blogs are class like proper comedy gold!!

He should compile them after about 4 years, into a book.
Quality read!

TRANCE ENERGY TOUR - AUSTRALIA 2009

The last 3 weeks have been nothing short of insane. Absolutely crazy. In the last sixteen days I have spent a total of 80 hours in the air on flights that have taken me from Ireland to London to Singapore, Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Perth, Sao Paulo and Buenos Aries. Not the best showcase of my green credentials.

How can I begin to tell you about everything that’s happened, all the places I have been, gigs I have played, people I have met…..

Let’s go back to the start….

The ground beneath us shakes violently, pitching from side to side like a ship being tossed about in a rough, mid ocean swell. I spin round and gaze back at the mountain towering above us way up into the cloud line. The icy wind that had been pushing us with vigour down the steep hillside suddenly feels warm on my face. There, near the summit on the northern face a long tear in the pristine white snow billowing plumes of thick, offensive black smoke straight up into the clear blue sky above. Another rupture some 30 meters below and another some twenty yards to the left – each one ejaculating wad after wad of molten red lava onto the crisp white carpet which reacted with a loud hiss of pain – throwing out a dense white flag of steam. A strange sensation snakes around my feet. Melt water – rushing past – enveloping us and filling our boots, the trail of deep footprints behind us instantly washed away like text on a whiteboard. I don’t fucking believe this. We’ve only just escaped being hacked to death by that gang of psychotic, machete wielding, Jamaican yardies and now we’re going to either drown or burn to death on the side of a sodding mountain?? Could my day get any worse? What the fuck am I even doing here?

Panic. Fear. A voice…can’t…quite…work out…something about…..seatbelt?

The stewardess was now shaking me awake. I stare at her blankly, gradually coming to terms with my surroundings.

“Sorry to disturb you sir – we’re preparing to land and the captain has asked everyone to fasten their seatbelts and return their tables and seats to an upright position. I’m so sorry sir”

“Jesus, don’t be sorry love you’ve just saved me from burning to death in waist high snow (is that even possible?).”

She looks at me with a confused frown. “Are you ok sir?”

“Yes, I think so.”

She smiles, exposing a row of horrid tobacco stained teeth that are crying out for urgent dental treatment.

Poor thing – she wasn’t to know what I’d just been through. Christ dreams can be so fucking vivid sometimes. I dread to think what may have happened if she hadn’t woken me at that precise moment.

I look over at the guy across the aisle from me whom I was talking to before I passed out. He is a large African guy wearing beautifully hand woven tribal clothes. For some reason he has dyed his hair ginger. It’s a strange look but he’s a really cool guy and he is now looking at me with a big, friendly smile.

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah I know, but it will grow out”. I smile and offer him some chewing gum while rubbing the sleep out of the corner of my eyes. I’m not quite awake yet.

For fuck’s sake John we’re trance fans who are only interested in reading about high hats and snare rolls will you please get to the bloody point and explain the relevance of this bullshit? Yes, of course, I’m so sorry… I’m on a flight from London to Sydney Australia for the massive Trance Energy Tour - which will see four large events in four days in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane and Perth. As well as the very best in local djing talent the tour has a massive line up of international djs including Jules, Marco V, Sander, BT and loads more.

This has not been a good flight from the moment we boarded. Shit seat, terrible turbulence, and a broken in-flight entertainment system (again!) that meant the only programmes I could access for the full 10 hours were Sex in the City, an out of date BBC World Service news bulletin and the film Brokeback Mountain. Brilliant.

I get to Sydney at 5.30am and get driven to the Vibe Hotel where the rest of the djs on the tour are staying. I crash and wake up sometime in the early afternoon. I get a call from Tyas who is in his room going through the long list of remixes that were submitted for the “Melbourne” competition on Discover. I go and meet up with him and Patterson and we catch up over a few beers in the hotel bar before the rest of the tour djs join us and we all head off to the harbour for lunch. It’s cool to put faces to names. After lunch Tyas, Patterson and myself go for a few more drinks at a slightly pretentious cocktail bar overlooking the same harbour. A couple of my old friends who live in Sydney come and join us and we eventually all head back to the hotel in time for our 8pm lift to the venue. Another friend meets us in the lobby and along with the rest of us and a few of Patterson’s mates from the city we head to the venue – two massive indoor arenas at the Hordern Pavillion situated at the back of Sydney’s famous Fox Film Studios.

On arrival we are guided to a backstage room for the djs which is filled with booze and subsequently testosterone. I do an interview with an Australian magazine. The guys from the magazine (sorry can’t remember you or your mag’s name) are totally on the same wavelength and we immediately scrap the interview in favour of a few rounds of table football which is situated in the corner of the media room.

The gig is unbelievable and looking back on the whole tour now I would say it was definitely a highlight - along with Melbourne. I play after Robbie Nelson who is rocking it. The only down side to this tour is that we all only get one hour each night to play. This is unavoidable considering the number of djs on the tour. So much music to try and cram into just 60 minutes. Only one option – get straight to work on the dentistry from the very first record. As Corey so eloquently put it “You were designed for my punishment”. Smash, smash, smash. I love every second of it and am gutted that it comes to an end so damn quickly. I would have given my fee back to play another couple of hours. Track of the night has to be Miller and Fafaq’s “Clause”. The build up in the breakdown is orgasmic to say the least. When I’m done I have a few drinks and end up getting a little bit drunk. Along with another character from the Trance Energy crew who’s birthday it is we try to organise a game of cricket with the bouncers back stage. For some reason they’re not as enthusiastic as us. I try everything in my power to get them organised into decent fielding positions but in the end the one that looks like The Dude from The Big Lobowski suggests the notion that a 5am limited overs Test Series wouldn’t be a hit with his boss and so I bid my farewells and go back to the hotel - crashing around 5.30.

Patterson wakes me with a call saying transport to the airport is leaving in 20.

Shower
Brush teeth
Down all water in mini bar
Go

Next we are on our way to Melbourne for the biggest gig for the tour. 15,000 people at a massive day time festival being held at The Calder Park race track.

At Melbourne we check into a great hotel opposite the airport. I order a steak and work through priority emails before heading down to the festival with the driver and Judge Jules at around 5.30pm. If I thought our travel schedule was tough, Jules has his family staying in Sydney and between each gig is flying back each day to be with them before flying out again in the evening to the next city/gig. That’s commitment. Talking about family with Jules makes me a little homesick. It’ll be another week before I get to properly see my missus and my boy. Horrible.

When I get to the venue I do an interview with inthemix.com.au and then head to the stage I am playing and hang out with my old mate Pappa Smurf. He introduces me to a friend of his who is a composer – who does loads of work for the BBC and other major TV / film soundtracks. We talk non-stop for an hour about music, studio equipment and other nerdy shit. I love every second of it. The guy is super cool and he invites me to come hang in his studio for a day next time I am in Melbourne. I only wish there was enough time to do it on this trip.

The gig is crazy. The crowd are really energetic and they like it hard – which is perfect because a sound thrashing is the only thing on tonight’s menu. My rework of Patterson’s “Thump”, “Vandalism”, “Bored of You, Bored of Me” and Tom Colontonio’s remix of “Affirmation” are big tracks in the hour but sadly, once again, the 60 minutes are up and I’m back in the van to the hotel – this time with Richard Durand who tells me that he was a Paratrooper in the army for 4 years. Good career change mate!

Patterson and Tyas come back for a few and try to get me to come to the after party at a local club, but I’m beat so call it a night and crash around 1am.

After an early night I’m feeling pretty good when I wake and head down to the lobby to meet with the rest of the crew before we head to Brisbane. Jeff Mills live from the Liquid Rooms on the ipod. Gritty.

At this point it’s probably a good time to tell you about Andy – the tour manager who was babysitting all the djs for the trip. Andy’s a highly experienced tour manager who usually works with big rock bands, touring theatre, comedy acts etc and its fair to say he’s good at his job. He’s seen it all before so I’m sure he was used to dealing with everything this tour could throw at him but it’s still worth saying without his organisational skills and ability to wake those that cannot be woken - I would have missed my flight from Brisbane to Perth.

It went a little something like this….

We get to Brisbane where we are playing a smaller club gig for a few thousand people at a venue called The Met. After checking into the Sebel hotel we all meet up for a Tour Dinner organised by Rob and Brad the promoters. We are eating at the restaurant in the hotel where the food and the wine are both exquisite. I’m sat with Tyas, Patterson, Robbie Nelson, Rob Loader from ID&T Australia, Breakfast, Sander van Doorn and his girlfriend Lea. The conversation is light hearted and fun. It’s mostly non music related – which makes a refreshing change from the last two days of repeated “So how do you make your kick drums?. Eventually the numbers diminish and then the only people left in the restaurant are Rob, Robbie, Casey (Breakfast) and I. We’re getting heavily involved in a variety of topics over more of the glorious Pinot Noir that keeps flowing. Occasionally we sprawl into the street so we can smoke cigarettes without disrupting the flow. Any plans of having a few hours kip before the gig are now cancelled. We’re up for it and it’s agreed that the best course of action is to get to the club as soon as possible so we can get amongst it.

When we arrive we are ushered into the venue via a seedy back alley. Fila (from Aly & Fila) is rocking the main room which is a reasonable sized club room holding maybe 1200 people. It’s been cool hanging out with Fila on this tour – up to this point our paths have only really crossed at a professional work level or in noisy clubs where it’s impossible to converse properly so it’s been a real pleasure getting to know him - he’s a really decent guy who hasn’t let the success he is experiencing go to his head. He’s also a great dj and for half an hour of his set I get down and throw some shapes on the floor.

Tonight I’m playing in a small back room – for around 200 people. Although small the room has a killer sound system and I have a load of fun. Matt Darey is playing before me with Breakfast playing before him – so I try to keep their BPM and style going – playing slower, chunky electronic tracks which the punters seem to be wanting. After two night of really banging the hell out of it all my music sounds really slow. More drinks. Pitch control begins to creep up.135 soon becomes 137. More drinks. 139. More drinks. 140. I’ve been pretty well behaved on the last few nights in Sydney and Melbourne but now as I finish my set I’m feeling shit faced. The guy doing the lights has been feeding me Vodka Redbulls non-stop for the hour. I join Andy and some of the guys in the seedy alley where we originally entered. Although it is raining the dark and dubious side street has become a veritable hive of activity as staff and djs congregate to smoke and get a moments relief from the sweatbox inside the venue. You’re not allowed to have drinks outside on the street so every time the bouncer comes out and tells us this everybody simply knocks back what they have in their glass or bottle and throws the empties into one of the massive wheelie bins next to us.

Andy and I are talking non-stop about metal. He’s toured with Slipknot and being a massive fan I bombard him with questions. We go and do Jagermeister shots with Bourbon chasers at the bar in the VIP room while debating Lars Ulrich’s Drumming. The mutual conclusion is that he is utter horse shit and Metallica would be so much better if Joey Jordison was to replace him. Joey is in both of our views – the best drummer in the world and therefore it only seems fit that we declare yet another toast to him. [ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JopQMbr1lYU"]YouTube - Joey Jordison drum solo[/ame]

I don’t recall much of the rest of the night at The Met but I do remember one of the djs (I wont mention his name) got into a fight with a bouncer and got roughed up pretty bad and then thrown out. I also have a vague recollection of getting back to the hotel and cleaning out both my and Andy’s minibars.
Next thing I know it’s the morning and Andy is standing over me shouting “get the fuck out of bed – now!!!!” I can hear him but I’m not awake enough to comprehend what is going on so I allow my body to sedude me back into a deep sleep. Next thing I know – he’s emptying a bin of cold water over me while barking more orders at me. I leap to my feet – furious that I’ve been so rudely woken. I stand there face to face with Andy and the hotel manager – who had let Andy into my room following the failed attempts to wake me by phone and knocking. I’m naked. “Put some fucking clothes on and get your arse downstairs. We’re late and if we miss this flight because of you you will have fucked the entire Perth gig because it’s Easter weekend and all the later flights will be full!” Why didn’t you say! I’m awake now. Apologising while trying to get my shit together.

We make the flight with 20 minutes to spare and for the rest of the day I keep a low profile - hiding behind sunglasses – feeling more hung over than I have in a very long time. After all that anic the flight is only half full – so I lay out over 4 seats and sleep for the first 3 hours of the flight till Andy comes and joins me and we have a good laugh about our capers from the night before. What I can’t get my head round is the fact that he was there, matching me, drink for drink and yet he is still standing, apparently sober – and yet I’m close to death, booze sweating from every pore in my body. I promise god that I will never drink again if he would just do me one favour and relieve some of the immediate pain.

When we get to Perth the temperature is much higher. It’s damn hot and we all get picked up in a fleet of people carriers. We are then driven 45 minutes to the Vines golf complex resort where we are staying. It’s out in the middle of the countryside and about 5 minutes away from tonight’s venue – an incredible amphitheatre cut into the side of a hill called the Belvoir. On the way we see something really disturbing. A pick up truck driving in the opposite direction to us has 2 or 3 dogs in the back – which is open. They, like us, are travelling at around 50 miles an hour. As we get closer we see the driver of the van screeching to a halt, jumping out and running back down the road – in the same direction we are heading. We slow down. One of his dogs has jumped out of the back of the moving vehicle and is now lying in the middle of the road – motionless and stunned. His legs look wrong. We slowly pass the guy just as he has reached his dog and scooped it up into his arms. He’s crying “you’re going to be ok mate” over and over again. Poor fucking dog. I only hope it made a full recovery.

After a quick shower at the hotel Patterson, Tyas and I head straight to the event. This is the final night of the tour and in a way it feels sad that this adventure is coming to an end. Touring the world can be fun, but doing it on your own does not compare to travelling in a big group like this. It’s like being back as school. Capers, adventures, chaos. Brilliant. Patterson makes an amazing find in the back stage area – a crate of Jack and Cokes. And they’re ice cold!

The night is amazing. I see Sander rock the main stage and it’s an impressive sight – 10,000 people sing his Killers remix back to him. There is a near emergency when part of the stage bursts into flames after one of the pyrotechnics explodes in the wrong direction. The stage crew are quickly on it – rapidly scaling 50 feet of rigging with fire extinguishers to get to the blaze. People are in a blind panic because sparks from the fire are being carried on the wind out towards the arid scrubland behind the stage where there is an abundance of trees and foliage – all as dry as a bone. One spark could set the whole area ablaze in a matter of seconds and with the recent bush fires that ravaged parts of Australia during their summer – the atmosphere is tense to say the least. Hoses are located and no chances are taken as the crew spray the whole of the scrub area with hundreds of litres of water. Panic over. I end up talking to an old couple who are in the think of this activity. They turn out to be the owners of the venue and when the emergency is over and the risk of fire eradicated we have a most enjoyable conversation about the history of this epic venue. They tell me the entire ampitheatre was dug out of the hill by hand – and most of that digging was done by themselves. Impressed I ask them what the venue was originally built for. They give a rendition of all the theatre acts, operas etc that have performed here and I consider this as I look out over 10,000 ravers going fucking nuts to Paterson and Tyas – who are playing back to back.

I enjoy my set in the Judgement Sundays arena and when I play the last record of the last set on this last night of the tour – I feel really sad.

Back at the Vine Resort there is an afterparty at Brad's chalet which I hang out at for a while – spending most of my time there talking to BT about deep sea diving and sharks. He is a really keen diver with loads of great stories. From the party Andy and I got to Tydi’s chalet for a drink and then back to Andy’s for another. At this point the 5 days of travelling (from the start in London) catch up with me and I’m passing out on my feet. It takes me nearly an hour to find my room but eventually after climing over fences and bushes I find the right door and throw myself into the delicious Egyptian cotton linen which welcomes me into its arms. At last I begin an amazing, uninterrupted 8 hours of sleep.

I wake with a jolt – knocking at the door. A wide eyed Andy - pint of beer in hand and big smile on face. He’s been playing golf with Rob and Simon Eve who are equally smashed. What a sight that must have been for the other golfers!

It’s time to go, so once again I shower etc and head to the hotel lobby, say my farewells to the characters that are loitering with intent and jump in the taxi back to the airport to head for Sydney once again – where my connecting flights leaves the following morning. I sit back and smile as I watch row after row of Australian vineyards zips past me – Andy C live from Detonate in the headphones.

Next stop – Argentina for next weekend massive gigs in Roasario and Buenos Aries. x

Albsolutely class read that like

LOL

Heres me thinking askew was teetotal.

its like reading a novel so much detail