#turtle lamone

[bloomingtonchaosfest]

SATURDAY, JULY 4th - 7PM @ RHINO’S YOUTH CENTER, $5 Your Heart Breaks (WA) www.yourheartbreaks.bandcamp.com Ghost Mice (Bloomington) www.ghostmice.bandcamp.com Turtle Lamone (Edinburgh, UK) www.turtlelamone.bandcamp.com   Human Behavior (AZ) www.humanbehaviormusic.bandcamp.com

[garuda-audio]

On Thursday 8th January!

[antimanifestomusic]

STREAM THE NEW NEW FIGHTING FICTION ALBUM

Fighting Fiction's awesome new album is released on Monday 16th September via Xtra Mile Recordings and you can stream it now.

LISTEN TO IT HERE!!!

The band will be playing at Opium in Edinburgh on Monday 23rd September alongside Curators and Turtle Lamone.

[antimanifestomusic]

TURTLE LAMONE - THE TOUR DIARY (PART 5)

Pt.5: Dundee - Inverness - Edinburgh - Stirling - Glasgow

“Oh, so you WILL buy a ticket?”

After a day pretty much doing my own thing at work I went back to Bob’s and straight out again to Dundee.The show was at Cerberus and on my way I bumped into the Horse-Pix gang: JC, Kate, Emily, Chris and OliveAnne, as well as Jonny and his poppa Kev. As usual Kev extended his warm hospitality to myself, Ghost Mice and everyone, inviting us all for a box of noodles.All the late night boxes of chips had started to get me run down so I felt good after some tofu and veg. We headed back to the venue which was already filling out nicely and the ukelele strumming Nyla started the night off. I’ve never seen her play before and she was pretty awesome. It certainly had hints of Noun, Waxahatchee and Candy Hearts in there. Don Giovanni Records kind of stuff. It was also pretty great that she covered a song by a Glasgow HxC band. She said she thought they were pretty serious guys and might be pissed off. I’m glad she made a comment on the fact that people feel excluded when 6ft whatever muscle bros are throwing their elbows around at hardcore shows. Broken Stories were up next and I should say that they have really gotten good.There were occasions in the past when I thought that the songs seemed a little one-dimensional, sitting too safely in the Melodic Acoustic Punk ballpark. I wanted to like the music so much because they are such awesome and lovely people.And I’m glad I saved the compliments until they meant something because this time, Gillian’s violin shredding twinned with Kev’s silky smooth voice and some perfectly executed harmonica improvisation made Broken Stories something much fresher to my mind. It was something like what Saves The Day’s Chris Conley doing songs written by Chuck Ragan [may his name be praised] and Dan Andriano might sound like.Then I played and people were much more responsive than last time in Cerberus Bar. It will always be difficult with free entry shows in a small bar, but it seemed that MakeThatATake had brought most of the crowd this time, and on a Monday night that is impressive. It genuinely seems that MTAT are actively making Dundee a better place to live for people of all generations and backgrounds. Next up was Billy Liar. Billy works very hard and takes music seriously as a trade while making an invaluable contribution to the running of The Forest Cafe in Edinburgh. I have seen him play countless times but probably my favourite thing is the way that he scans his lyrics very loosely with the beat of his songs. It gives him room to write original lyrics and then pull everything tighter in the choruses. I can’t really explain it any better than that. I don’t always enjoy his songs about his ex-girlfriends but to his credit he writes and sings what he knows which is respectable. But hell let’s leave it there, I ain’t gonna go all Dave Hughes on his ass! [That’s a sort of in joke. Dave Hughes is lovely] Finally Ghost Mice took the floor and killed it once again.Towards the end of the set the cops turned up and said we had to finish because the neighbours had complained.The problem with local noise laws is that complaints are treated seriously even when Db levels aren’t exceeded so even though we were inside, playing acoustic instruments, somebody was getting pissed off. I happen to think that if you are that sensitive to noise you shouldn’t live next to a pub. Furthermore we were a gathering of people in a controlled environment having fun and respecting each other. I’m sure there was something more violent and hurtful that the police could have been spending their time on.

After the set I went back to Kev’s house with Billy where we crashed for the night and in the morning Kate and I madeTofu scramble for everyone at Jonny’s pad.  A good start to a day which would turn sour. I’m now talking about today and I very nearly got arrested despite having payed the full amount for my ticket. I missed a train and got on the next one where I discovered that my ticket was not even valid for that route.The conductor told me that I would either have to pay or go back to Perth.  At first I said I would go back but realising the time I saw I would be too late once I got there, so I waited for him to come back. I waited in vain and I got off at Aberdeen where I saw him and asked if I could buy a ticket which I did on the platform.  An undercover cop standing with him then said “Oh, so you will buy a ticket?” Then about 6 cops appeared on the platform.They asked to have a word about what happened and all of a sudden I was being asked for my details, my I.D, my address (the fact that I had no fixed address was making me even more nervous), where I was born.  At first I argued that I shouldn’t have to say anything, that I hadn’t done anything wrong and then I was told that I would be arrested if I refused. The whole idea that not wanting to tell the police where you come from, when you were born, your address is cause for suspicion is absolutely insane.  Am I allowed to be suspicious of them? Apparently not... I was told then that I had been argumentative with the train conductor which is quite frankly bizarre. I also fucked up and told him I didn’t have any middle names because I was panicking, so they started asking for ID and I was glad that they accepted my railcard because I just wanted to get to Inverness.The conclusion: I can understand why someone very naive would want to become a cop if they were 10 years old, but apart from that you would have to be a bully in need of a power-trip.

After killing time for an hour in Aberdeen I got the train to Inverness and the train journey was picturesque. Staring out the window and listening to Franz Nicolay’s “Do the Struggle” calmed me down a good deal. I arrived at the station and was greeted by (fuck yeah) Ross Ryan who, for those who don’t know is an absolute sweetheart. He took me to the venue, Mad Hatters, where Spoke Too Soon were sound checking. It was just the 2 bands playing and as I had been warned, Inverness is fucking dead on aTuesday night. I wasn’t there to play a sell out show though, I was there to see Inverness, to see my friends and to play a show to them.Taking this into consideration, we walked onto the street which was empty apart from a couple of young skaters who we told that there was a free skate punk show on at mad hatters and that they should come check it out. I waited until 9pm and started as soon as one person entered the room. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and 4 or 5 people walked in out during the set. Being a full band, Spoke Too Soon’s first song brought a few punters up from downstairs & I was pretty surprised at how much I was digging their music.  It reminded me of a pub I used to go to for pop-punk and ska-punk shows in Cambridge when I was 13. They sounded a bit like Jimmy Eat World, Saves The Day, New Found Glory with some added metal.  A lot of you will be saying that this sounds like the worst thing ever but I loved it.  Afterwards S2S and Ross Ryan took me out on the town. Miami nightclub was closed (but a Fatman Scoop gig in September was being advertised. Definately going. No fucks given) so we went to Johnny Foxes, a friendly pub with a refreshingly diverse clientele. We drank until 3am and walked out onto the streets where we felt warm and it was still bright outside because we were so far north.

I fell asleep and woke up early with a headache. I walked to the bus station, said goodbye to Ross Ryan and began to dread the 4 and a half hour journey ahead.  At least I had a bottle of Lucozade. I spent most of the journey staring out the window and listening toThe Weakerthans’“Reconstruction Site”.The scenery was prettier on the way back. Going through the small towns like Aviemore it often is. On my return to Edinburgh I finally gave in and replaced my sodden, stinking pair of vans rip-offs with black Dunlops which sort of made me look like a school boy. I also bought a ball for a possible game of 4-square which had been discussed in Dundee and a pair of socks from Sports Direct. Navigating that place is difficult but with a piano and stand on your back its taken to a whole new level. I destroyed a good amount of their display and left, stopping by the American Candy store to give myself a Gelatine-Free Cola Bottle-Related sugar rush. I met Ghost Mice, JC & Kate at casa del Billy Liar y Fraser Murderburger before heading to our friend Michelle & Ricky’s place for Vegan Pizza. Michelle and Chris Clavin hadn’t seen each other for about 7 years previous so naturally it was special to see them reunited in Edinburgh. We headed to Banshee, fuelled by the singalong anthem of “BRIIITISSH ENGLIIISH, BRIIIITISH EEEENGLISH [rap] uhuh, you said trousers but you really mean pants, you don’t go to the prom but you go to the dance.” Or something like that.

Again,Ghost Mice, Billy, JC and Olive Anne all bloody well killed it. An added bonus was that Ghost Mice were enjoying themselves so much that they played for an hour.The rest of the tour they were mostly playing for around half an hour and it seemed they really appreciated the attentive and positive ears.Afterwards a few of us went up to hunter square, drew a court on the ground in chalk and played 4 square. We played until 2.30pm. Strangers joined in and also taught us a French game called “Tomate”. Being around people like Ghost Mice and the Durhams makes me feel motivated to do crazy, spontaneous shit like that. It wasn’t until afterwards though that I thought about how little we allow ourselves those moments. We are too often bound by pre-emptive fatigue and disappointment and when even bars feel like prisons with age restrictions, overpriced beer, curfews and a lack of natural light, it’s important to make full use of publicly-owned space.

I went to work the next day with a smile on my face and left for stirling around 5. Debbie and a friend of hers picked me up at Stirling train station and drove me to a small village nearby called Fallin. I played to her family and a small group of friends in a park looking onto her back garden which they referred to as the muckhole which was a surreal and awesome experience. Debbie’s nephews and niece cartwheeled around the park while I covered Bouncing Souls and after the show rightly called me on my use of the F word!The rest of the night ended up being pretty tough for Debbie and I. I can’t say anything else other than we’re certainly closer for the experience and know each other better.

I stayed the night and returned to Edinburgh for a flat viewing, before heading out to Glasgow to play with Tim Barry, Deeker and my old friend Sam Russo. Boab was putting on the show and there was a large, friendly audience gathered from the start. I caught up with Sam for a few minutes and as I had been running late it was soon enough time for me to go on stage for my last stand of the 2 week tour.The best thing about the end of a tour is that your set gets really tight, and I honestly felt good about how I played that night and it made me very happy that Sam and Tim Barry thought it was good. Deeker played a good set too.  As I hadn’t seen my girlfriend, Susan, in about 5 weeks I wanted to get the last train to Aberdeen. Out of sheer desperation I asked Sam if he could go on asap after Deeker so I could see him play a little while. He played 2 songs and at the end of the first he asked me to sing with him: “The more I lose, the more I learn.The more I learn, the more it hurts”.The perfect end to 2 of the best weeks of my life. Sam struck the final chord of Factory Rain and it rang in my ears all the way to Aberdeen.

Appendix

I would never feel good touring or playing full time. I hope that non-tour related experiences, views and stories will always inform what I write and that it will never become inward looking.That said, while it isn’t some kind of “true calling”, these two weeks were 2 of the best I’ve had and I feel liberated knowing that I can travel the length and breadth of the country to strange places where friends and friends of friends of friends and so on will listen to my music, feed me and put a roof over my head. I could never show a substantial gratitude to those of you who I mentioned in this diary, I would only say that as long as I have a place of my own, I would happily do the same for you.

All the goddamn best, Turtle Lamone

[antimanifestomusic]

TURTLE LAMONE - THE TOUR DIARY (PART 4)

Pt.4: London - Bolton - Home

“I think that man’s bag is too big”

I spent the morning in Cambridge and then headed to the Old Red Lion in Kennington, London where I was to play with Tim Vantol and my old friend Jugs, another one of Norfolk’s gems. I was getting pretty jaded with the whole keyboard situation and while most people in on the London Underground seemed understanding of the fact that I obviously couldn’t avoid taking up a bit more space than everyone else, some less so, like one mother who told her son “I think that man’s bag is too big”. I agree with you ma’am but I don’t really know what you want me to do about it.The venue was an old country pub and the sun was shining so they opened the doors to the beer garden from the back room where we set up.The perfect way to spend the longest day of summer. I decided to keep it classy and get a glass of wine with my first beer tokens.

Ollie [Jugs] went on first. Ollie’s vocal style takes some getting used to. Sometimes I don’t dig his voice, but when the songs match his register, it rings out real nice and is vaguely reminiscent of Leeds quartet “The Dauntless Elite”. Most importantly though, he is a fantastic songwriter especially when it comes to lyrics. I played what I thought was a good set.Then Rob, Joe and Tim played.Tim especially impressed me.These days I hold a negative prejudice towards most bearded white males with acoustic guitars. I openly admit that this will sound incredibly hypocritical and ironic but they tend to be the main culprits when it comes to gratuitous, inward looking bro-tour songs. Nonetheless,Tim had a gorgeous voice and while there were all the signs of the usual influence: Chuck Ragan [may his name be praised], the songs were straight-up well written, catchy and not overly simplistic in structure. I was drinking wine with my oldest and bestest friend Hugh Foley, poking fun at tour-culture and I was feeling good and gradually more drunk. So it seemed all too appropriate when Tim and Joe covered Old Crow Medecine Show’s Wagon Wheel while we sang along loudly and obnoxiously in 10 million-part harmony.

After the show I was invited by Jugs to another house of legend:Astbury Castle in Peckham. We walked in to the sound of Miss Dynamite, Liberty X and other 90s jams. I had saved a bottle of whisky from Southampton and it immediately felt the right time to sink it.There was a lot of folks dancing in the kitchen, a friendly person called Mary gave me a haircut [to residents of astbury who are still finding my hair in the kitchen, I am deeply sorry], I had a drunk shower, danced some more and out of nowhere the clock pointed to 6am and I realised I needed to get to Bolton that day. I had about 3 hours of not so much sleep but more lying on Jugs’floor before he woke me up about 9am: he had to get to his mum’s wedding reception and I didn’t envy him one bit. I, on the other hand fired up a cigarette and sat down on the wet, cold concrete outside. I talked to Ollie’s new housemate about the squat he had started up. “Cool”, I said. “No, not cool, I didn’t choose to live there, it’s not a fashion statement”. “Oh no, I mean, like, nice”. “No, living in a squat isn’t nice, you have to deal with cops raiding your home at 4am, you get kicked out on to the street in the middle of winter, it’s not nice, it’s a response to the housing crisis”. It seemed he was saying that the crusties went home to their parents’ house when shit got real, but for him this was real life. He wasn’t arrogant, it was just the reality and it made me reflect on how enterprises of that nature can become vanity projects for hipsters. I took a trip to the Cafe with my new friends Martha and Ren for Eggs done over easy and Mushrooms on 2 slices of toast. I felt a lot better for it but as soon as I got on the bus to Kennington where I would pick up my keyboard, I felt a full-body hangover kick in. You know, the kind which would not be solved by coffee, or sleep or throwing up or food, you just curl up into a ball, waiting for tomorrow to come around. I said goodbye to Ren at the Oval, walked 10 minutes to the Old Red Lion and back to Kennington tube where I discovered that the northern line was broken for the day. Fucking fuck off. I asked around and discovered I would have to walk another 10 minutes to Elephant & Castle.The tube was crowded and I felt claustrophobic and felt the fear setting in. I changed at Piccadilly. I watched about 5 trains go past, all overflowing with tourists and businessmen. I didn’t want to accept it but there was no doubt that all the trains would look like that for the next few hours. I forced my way into the end of a carriage and waited it out until King’s Cross where I again started to feel the the straps of my keyboard case rubbing, and the ache in my muscles.And as if that wasn’t bad enough I needed to take a crap. I usually object to a charge of 30p for using the bathroom, but this was not the time for morals and I really didn’t care. I sat in the cubicle with my head in my hands for about 10 minutes and I could have stayed longer but needed to work out when my train was. When I finally found assistance I discovered that the train I needed actually goes from Euston. Fuck off. I near- crawled another 10 minutes past the british library and round the corner to Euston, taking breaks every 2 minutes to consider taking a nap on a bench but time was not on my side. I bought a massive packet of Bacon crisps from Marks & Spencer [PUNX], bought a ticket of some description and boarded the train where I ate said crisps and immediately crashed out for a long fucking time.

“Thenext station is Bolton” crackled through the train speakers and woke me from my slumber. Fuck off. I left the train and walked out in front of the station.The weather wasn’t making a flattering picture for Bolton, but people stopped to help me find the pub when I asked and that’s what makes a town. Being so near Manchester, Bolton has become a quasi-suburb which is a shame because towns like that have the potential to exist as a strong non-financialised community.Alas, the high street is, like Newport, a clone (actually it’s prettier than that) and the town desperately needs more people like Stephen Cottrell who was organising the show that night.Towns need music and art and generally things to do and see which improve the quality of life for those living there. Otherwise it becomes a magnet for crime and violence which is how people pass the time when they’ve got no chance in life and it feels like nobody gives a single flying fuck.

The show was good and included a guy who uses the name ‘my red balloon’. It was excellent and it reminded me of Esperi a lot. Even the instrumental songs were magic. Unfortunately when he was playing his last song he had some trouble with the loop pedal. I suppose it can’t be easy to work. I played last and one thing which made me happier than I expected was that the sound on stage was the best I’d had all tour. I thought I was too punx to care but obviously not. I was still pretty hungover but I was going home the next day and I would sleep it off in a bed at Cotty’s place that night.

I caught the train back up to Edinburgh the next morning and had the extreme displeasure of sitting next to some very sexist Medical students from Cambridge on their way to the British Medical Association Conference. I tried to distract myself by writing this diary entry but this one guy in particular was a total prick. His deal was pretty much “All women are [insert generic negative trait]... it’s not sexist, they really do”. Made me feel pretty ill to think that he would actually have any position of care & responsibility, let alone be a doctor. I nearly gave him a piece of my mind but just put it on Twitter instead. Minus 1 million punk points. Back to Edinburgh. I had a day off to move my shit to Bob’s house, and then a day at work on Monday before the show in Dundee. It felt like tour had come to some sort of end because I would be in familiar territory from then on, but that would depend on how weird things got in Inverness....

[antimanifestomusic]

TURTLE LAMONE - THE TOUR DIARY (PART 3)

<a href="http://turtlelamone.bandcamp.com/album/bedroom-walls-3" data-mce-href="http://turtlelamone.bandcamp.com/album/bedroom-walls-3">Bedroom Walls by Turtle Lamone</a>

Part3: Brighton - Southampton

“Oregano,Myxed Hibes and Hibes of a Province, namely Kingston, Jamaica”

Brighton looked awesome. I instantly wanted to run and jump in the sea or do something crazy.Alas, it was pretty much time to go to Murf’s house already when I reached the train station.Then again, I was greeted by the beautiful, friendly and familiar faces of Murf and Jay. Later on friends Luke Godwin, Katie Raine, Leo Parsley and Harry Partridge showed their faces. We played and myself and Luke played 2 songs together which I had done parts for on his album. We hadn’t practiced or even seen each other since recording so all things considered it was pretty ace. We talked long into the night and drank wine.

The next day I headed through to Southampton early to play the infamous Roomtown Fair. I arrived at Southampton station feeling pretty fresh but didn’t feel so great when I found out that I had to get back on a train. I had a growing rash on my aching shoulders from the straps of the near 20kg keyboard. But nothing good is easy and being able to take the train alone and walk to the venues is a nice way to look at the town where I’m playing.

A punk house in the Southampton suburb of Portiswoode was the venue for a 2-day Festival, headlined by Ghost Mice.There was 2 band rooms, One of which had a floor completely covered by real turf, and an Oak tree next to the window. It was surreal and amazing. Some people were camping on either side of the 3 storey house which added to the festival vibe.There were perhaps 40 acts playing over the 2 days including Perkie, Let’s Go Nowhere and OliveAnne who played my favourite sets. Laura Coles was involved in pretty much most of the sets over the course of the day and each one was great. It slowly became apparent that Southampton has a particularly strong DIY Folk and Ska Punk scene, plenty of patched, dreadlocked types who treated me well and were generous.The kind of scene which was the perfect setting for a Ghost Mice show, although Chris revealed later that he was on a break from drinking for a few days. In his own words: He chose the wrong day.

The place got rowdier as the night went on and I began to wonder how they hadn’t had a visit from the council, at least for a warning but I mainly just enjoyed the lack thereof. I remembered how our 2 full band sets in Mookleville, Edinburgh had gone down pretty badly with one particular neighbour. I still dream of a house in an Edinburgh suburb where the possibility of a full band house show could be a little more real. I spent plenty of time chatting with folks in the designated Merch Room and with Kate who was driving Ghost Mice and that was some much needed down time while chaos unravelled all around us.A downstairs ceiling was about to cave in, some said. I went downstairs to look with my own eyes and it was definately moving, up and down and it was definately not completely safe but I decided it was probably better not to think about that whole situation. Ghost Mice played an absolutely killer set and afterwards we started the rounds of goodbyes.The problem was that usually, at a regular show that would be maybe 10 or so people from other bands and nice talkative attendees. In this case it took forever and we finally left at around 1am, bound for the Southampton house of legend: no. 3 Handel Road where we somehow got onto the subject of herbs and the correct pronunciation of Oregano. Which became “So do you pronounce Mixed Herbs “Myxed Hibes”?” It was honestly the funniest thing that had happened to me on tour at the time. In writing it sounds stupid.Then again maybe the whole exercise of writing a tour diary is stupid.After all a tour doesn’t really make sense outside of the time when it happens.Time kind of stops and one travels from town to town, with the supposed primary goal of playing in each one to whoever will listen, crossing paths with others of the same persuasion, testing the limits of the road, the railway or the unbeaten path.

We went to bed, or in my case, floor and I slept surprisingly well, apparently mumbling to myself.At first Emily who was in the bed thought I was making “Comfy noises” But for some reason I actually remember trying to talk to myself. I can’t really explain any further.

I spent the next day playing on probably the best mini golf course I’ve ever been to with my friends Jay, Harry and other residents of No.3.The south coast had been good to me but I didn’t want to stop for the 2 days even though I perhaps needed them. Paul, Kerry & co. were soon moving out of that house and I watched them immortalise No.3 in ink under their skin before we went to bed.

TURTLE LAMONE'S NEW EP "UNLIKELY FRIENDS" IS OUT NOW, GET IT HERE

READ PART ONE AND PART TWO OF THE TOUR DIARY!!

[antimanifestomusic]

TURTLE LAMONE - THE TOUR DIARY (PART 1)

Our good friend Raph (aka Turtle Lamone) recently toured the UK by train and played a whole load of gigs along the way.  I asked him to keep a tour diary so we could all hear about his experiences, and he did!  It has been split into 5 parts, and you can read the first entry now - 

Pt.1: Edinburgh - Swansea - Leeds!

“All the biggies... you do the math.”

Those of you who attended Spoonboy/Martha/Delay at Banshee Labyrinth will know it was a special night [those who didn’t can read the anti-manifesto review]. It was special in several ways. Firstly it was probably the best attended gig we’ve put on this year.Also, Spoonboy’s “The Papas” is one of my favourite all-time releases and deconstructs gender binary from personal & political points of view in which I find a lot of hope, comfort and inspiration. Meanwhile, Martha consists of Daniel, Naomi, JC and Nathan.Although there’s plenty of ‘mates’we find from touring & putting on shows, for some of us it’s rare that a connection truly transcends a simple, mutual understanding of and faith in DIY and that’s how I feel about these four.

Anyhow, as stated in the review, everyone played very well including Delay, who I hadn’t really listened to before [I find sometimes that hearing a band live before I’ve heard them recorded can be the difference between a band I like and a band I love: being caught off guard moves me in that way].They were maybe like a rougher and more interesting Cheap Girls with hints of Weezer and bits of Dirtnap records grunge thrown in.Andy Chainsaw played sat down which made for a more confident and dynamic set than ever before. In the past he’s gone for an all guns blazing approach and I think stepping back a little really payed off. I’m confident he will keep improving. My highlight was maybe Spoonboy playing ‘Peanuts’and dedicating it to me. I’m always fighting back the tears when I hear that number. I played and the crowd seemed to enjoy themselves, friends and new faces alike.

2 days later I woke up at 6am to catch an 8 hour train to Swansea. Probably the stupidest idea I’ve had since playing as Turtle Lamone. But actually, I’ve come to realise that one can be fairly productive on trains (like right now) and no train journey in the UK is really that long if you’ve got something to do.

As the train headed through the Midlands and across the Welsh border the stations looked quaint and familiar and I realised that it was Newport where I had written the first Stay Gones song: ‘Home’.The untouched areas of Wales are good to look at, and in some ways the industrialised south coast, but not Newport. It has a cloned high street and a River which is constantly running near dry but not dry enough to look like it happened on purpose, if that makes sense. It trickles along and bares its naked banks, filthy and grey like the rest of the city.

Swansea is good though. I walked for 20 minutes to the venue: Mozart’s, a restaurant- turned-club/bar. More like a member’s club than anything else. It seemed nobody was going to show up until 5 so I headed down the road and sampled some Theakston’s ale until Gav showed up. Gav plays in a band called Dividers and is a great person to have around.

Myself and my new friends Forrest loaded in, while my other new friend Jenny set up the P.A. and we soon heard news that Annabel and Dowsing, the headliners for the night would not arrive until 8 or 8.30. Considering that doors were 7pm, anyone who has ever put on a show will know that Gav pretty much went into overdrive at that point, trying to find a drumkit to borrow which he eventually managed but not before generally freaking the fuck out.

I went on first and played to a refreshingly large and attentive audience given how early it was, some of whom even bought an E.P afterwards. Forrest and Hellmoney played before Annabel & Dowsing eventually turned up, right on time... sort of. On the plus side they were incredible. Especially Dowsing who sounded, I thought, like Superchunk playing in the club in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. In other words, the best kind of 90s Emo-come-Mid- pace rock.After the show we went back to one of Gav’s friends houses. He seemed to really like Front magazine. I should probably say at this point, if you like front magazine, we’re probably going to have a BADTIME.  Anyway, I drowned myself in medicine and went to bed as I could feel a cold coming and once you get a cold on tour you know you won’t be rid of it until you get back to your own bed.

Dowsing and Annabel were kind enough to drive me as far as Birmingham the next day where we got breakfast in the sunny garden behind a cafe. I also caught the beginning of the all-day show which they would play later on before catching the train to Leeds. Once again they were a group of great musicians and great people.As per my track record when it comes to navigating unknown places, I went to the wrong train station and spent a while navigating the Edinburgh Tram-style roadworks before I eventually found New Street.

Upon my arrival in Leeds after a smooth 2-hour train journey I was pretty happy to find out that Wharf Chambers was a 10 minute walk from the station. I was even happier to meet Kev Fenton in person for the first time and discover that the venue was a members-run club/grassroots community centre.Attached to a board on the wall was information about how to contest your bedroom tax decision, no borders meetings for moroccan refugees, skill shares and more.There are not nearly enough venues like this and that is no coincidence. Simply put, neoliberal government policy makes it difficult for people to create something purely for its social value.

In the true spirit ofYorkshire, at least in my experience, Kev bought me an India ale and I sat with some nice folks from Huddersfield outside. I went on early and during my set Bear Trade arrived on the scene.They, Southport and Zapiain all killed it however after dropping a bowl of bombay mix outside my memory begins to fail me. I’d be lying if I said the bombay mix incident and my memory loss weren’t linked. I know that Lloyd and Bear Trade took me to his and Helen’s house in Cawood village, where we walked to the pub and subsquently sat round a fire next to the river listening to the Weakerthans.To give some context, Cawood has more pubs (2) than shops (1). We set up the fire on the side of theriver that usually gets flooded first.The other side has a wall which protects the village. Anear perfect night.

I woke up rolled in a carpet which I had presumably chosen as a duvet and joined the others in the Kitchen.The same morning I had the pleasure of meeting Blake and Robyn, the son and daughter of Helen and Lloyd Chambers. Blake turned out to be a cricket enthusiast so I agreed to what must have ended up being a half-hour game, followed by a tea-break and another 15 minutes.

As my headache started to set in I got in the car with Peter, Greg and Callum who took me as far as Newcastle where I caught the next train back to Edinburgh, and my temporary home of Andy & Sam’s sofa. It’s 5 days before I head out again.

Buy/Download Turtle Lamone's new EP "Unlikely Friends" HERE

<a href="http://turtlelamone.bandcamp.com/album/unlikely-friends" data-mce-href="http://turtlelamone.bandcamp.com/album/unlikely-friends">Unlikely Friends by Turtle Lamone</a>

Check back here tomorrow for part 2 of the tour diary!

[tillthewheelstours]

Hello Friends!

I have wonderful news. This week ends with one of the best Friday's EVER!!!

We have the third of our series of acoustic love ins at The Old Red Lion in Kennington.

The third instalment will be headlined by our original Brother Of Shame, Mr Tim Vantol. Hailing from just outside Amsterdam, Tim cut his teeth touring in such melodic punk outfits as For Japan and Your Mum.

Back in 2009 Tim broke away, writing a classic record in Road Sweet Road and has been touring non stop ever since.

He is now a festival size act with a backing band featuring members of That's Not Me (UK) and The Liberation Service (AT).

Tim Vantol was the first artist to take Great Cynics on tour, he was the first artist to play an Astbury Castle House Show, he was the first artist to play on the viewing deck of Swaffham Ecotricity Wind Turbine.

Tim Vantol has released a new record this year and was a big hit at Groezrock this year. Check out this celebrity clad video here.

Support will come from:

9.35- 10.05- Rob Lynch: another great addition to Groezrock, and also Download, this year. Impeccable acoustic pop with a punk edge from our own fair London.

9.00- 9.30- Joe Davies: Tour support for Tim Vantol and member of his band and Lincoln's, That's Not Me.

8.25- 8.55- Turtle Lamone: Terribly soulful keyboard punk from Big Raph. He's a real Motherfucker!

8.00- 8.20- OJW- ME!

So it's this coming Friday, get down from 8. It's free to one and all. The boozer is gorgeous, proper bloody old country pub.

LOTSA LOVE!

fb event here: https://www.facebook.com/events/462809777133478/