Mother and the Addicts, Norwich Arts Centre
Well, I was escorted away from my books one night, not entirely willingly as I was completely knackered and had lots to do. Still… one night out won’t hurt, I thought, I can manage tomorrow.. (We had actually gone to see Sons and Daughters, who acquitted themselves well and certainly did themselves no harm with the eager Norwich crowd.)
I happily settled into my customary place in the Arts Centre.. at the back, up the stairs, overlooking the mixing desk. Good place for a tiny wench. Support due on any minute.
Just a few minutes later, I was grinning from ear to ear. What where they called again? Mother and the Addicts.. my word. I just could not help laughing as the set went on, but laughing in pure pleasure, not at the band! I haven’t enjoyed a gig like that for sooooooooo long. I liked the songs. There was banter. There was Kendall’s dancing. And it was FUN!! Bloody bands these days forget how, sometimes.. and there was good old fashioned boogieing and singing along. (well, not me, the stairs were a bit toooo near). Fantastic. Go see, as they’re touring in September, I think.
I spoke to Kendall afterwards, who was obviously relieved and bemused by the fact that the bands had a night off. And, by dint of my charm and nice manners, the nice Mother condescended to do us a piece on what they got up to that night… although on sober reflection I’m not sure if it was wise to ask. See below. We don’t recommend that you try it at home…. Go touring instead.
single “Oh yeah… you look quite nice” is out on 1st August, debut album on 22nd August –
“Take the lovers home tonight”
There’s a free download single on the website. Enjoy!
Mother and the Addicts – notes from the road.
Yesterday I had been dreaming about a small frog I had managed to trap inside a test tube. Half asleep, I thought the frog kept jumping around my bed so I was thrashing around trying to catch it. Kendall, at this point, was ejected from the bed.
Of course I don’t normally share my bed with other men, but touring is one of those rare opportunities where the normal modus operandi of life is suspended to be replaced by male camaraderie, self control and an evolving group harmony fortified by bawdy conversation. My girlfriend, and quite rightly, has forbidden me to taste the fruits of the road: I reluctantly resist.
“What do you expect darling?” I say “Young bucks caged like animals, made to dance for their supper then placed in a room with nothing but each other and unlimited quantities of alcohol. It’s a miracle I’m still standing.”
“Quite” she quips: biting her lip and placing her teacup awkwardly in the saucer, the conversation turns to the church jumble sale. I give up and head for a cold shower.
Apart the wonderful audiences, vigorous plethora of fanzines and street drinkers another wonderful thing about Norwich is the nice cosy and very English pubs. See, in Glasgow your pubs selling real ale in quaint surroundings are a rarity. Dark rooms serving fizzy weak larger tinged with the threat of violence, however, abound. A couple of the Sons and Daughters party also found this a point of mutual appreciation and joined us over the road for a couple of pre-show pints.
Now the Arts centre scores pretty well in terms of hospitality, the food and the beer’s good, and supplied in ample amounts. Being treated like a human being, apart from being more conducive to doing a good show, means you’re more likely to spend the rest of the evening tripping the light fantastic with an bottle Bollinger stuffed down each trouser leg and a girl in each arm. Some promoters however work for darker forces.
Now it’s fairly hard to describe what it’s like being on stage, unless you’ve done it yourself, but most of the times you can’t see the audience, it’s a bit like playing to a large black void. When the lights do go down though, suddenly you get a glimpse of four hundred people, all eyes on you and you’re left thinking, “Oh hello, this is an odd thing to be doing, what the bleeding hell are they looking at me for? Oh I’m on a stage. Ah ha! 1,2,3,4.”
That night my hand was up the spout and I was dropping notes all over the place, so I was a little narked with my performance, but the rest of group kept it all together and the crowd were warm and cheered etc. So there you go, who gives a damn about the mechanics of my wrist. Afterwards I retired to the dressing room, had a wash, and hit the fridge. We hung around upstairs for a while, drinking and strumming guitars while Sons and Daughters applied make up and hair grease. Kendall and Pete as per usual headed out to watch the show; I popped down and watched a couple of numbers but spent most of the time upstairs with Ian pretending to be fraudulent Doctors. A robot appeared in the corner of the room.
We had the following day off so the whole touring party, us, Sons and Daughters and the crew decided to hit Norwich’s decadent underbelly. Finding a suitably dark basement playing a general mix of punk and electronica I donned my enormous electric thong and began to dance, Douglas came over, all leathers and good intentions. We partook in a swift fox trot then followed it with a shocking rendition of the opening pages of ‘all that fall’ by Samuel Beckett. Ian swung from the lighting rig and recited wild poetry. Kendall danced with strangers in huge platform shoes.
A few minutes later Peter approached, there was something wrong with his trousers and he had a strange glint in his eye. He was accompanied by a seven foot Nordic goddess dressed in the uniform of a nurse, she was sweating profusely. “Try one of these, man” he said proffering me a blue tablet that said ‘tower hamlets 1974”.
“That’s not drugs is it I said?”
“Hey Mother, relax, if the shoes fit”.
I dropped the rum and coke, and suddenly the sound of drums got louder and soon a crazed web light, sound and colour enveloped me. Voices began to echo and soon it seemed as thought the whole world was laughing, I screamed as saw the virgin mother bearing down on me. Before I knew it I was two human gorillas. Ian gazed back, a life size vision of the ‘Man from Del-Monte’. I screamed, “Great mother of god!”
Getting taxis back after words we met some of the more down to earth locals, one of whom tried to steal Ian’s take away, he wrestled it back however leaning out of the taxi window as we sped off into the night. The tour so far had been rolling along quite nicely on a wave of ‘white russians’ and continued to do so when we got to the lodge. After parking ourselves in Dave’s (S&D’s drummer) room I remember things getting a little overexcited. The Addicts are fairly high spirited, most of the time, so Kendall leaping on Dougie and simulating something animals do seemed pretty par for the course, as far as I was concerned; but the S&D’s tour manager who was sharing the room was beginning to look a little worn baby sitting nine fully grown adults, so we re-located.
With the volume from the Mother and the Addicts camp showing no sign of decreasing and not wanting to be implicated in any clandestine activities I left the group and hid away in a cupboard; in there, I met the surviving members of ‘Peter, Paul and Mary” who had been trapped there since the late sixties.
Earlier on Peter had managed to get himself floored outside by a certain lass (I will name no names) and ended doubled up on the stairs with a bottle of Rum. Gradually he entered the strange dimension we know as ‘tramp space’, when asked if he was alright, he used ‘blue’ language, so we dragged him back to his room and tied him to the shower. Later, taking an early hours stroll as I often do, I found Ian wandering the corridors covered in blood, apparently he’d found the towel cupboard decided to steal some towels, he then felt guilty, returned them then ‘something’ happened. But that’s secret. I retired and awoke none the worse for wear. Ian had passed out on the couch still dressed; this made me feel incredibly sophisticated. I showered and went to see what had happened to every one else. All was calm.