Ten Things I Learnt On Tour

When it’s not working, you’d better hope you’ve got some great stories to tell, because 45-minutes without a singing voice feels like at least twice as long. For the last show of our tour, mine decided to transform into a coffin croak. At least we were playing in Brighton, and having lived there a couple of years ago for a spell, it was easy to come up with at least 1/2 an hour’s worth of stories. I worked in a gay bar called Envy. It was around the corner from Revenge. The experience was about as enjoyable as it sounds.

Once you find yourself in France and Belgium, that promise goes directly out the window. It’s also hard to take heck for eating a second croissant from someone who’s got chocolate from their waffle all over their face

People seem to expect bands to always be up for an all-night crawl through their city after a show. At our show in Hamburg, we met a friendly fellow who decided we were going to party, despite our protestations. We took him up on his offer to help carry gear back to the hotel, but once there, with our beds in sight, there was no way to pry us from our group nest. We sent him on his way rather firmly, and then got into our beds and read. Yeah, we’re rock and roll, us.

Agents, press reps, label friends, friends of friends, and other bands. For this reason, I’ve shared a cab with Ed from Grizzly Bear at Pop Montreal, and chatted up U2 at the XFM studios in Leicester Square, London, (without realizing it was even them). Once you get back home, though, it’s back to part-time shifts at the library and film studies homework. Your stories don’t really mean much of anything – nobody really believes you anyway.

the lyrics people were singing back to us in places like Brussels and Amsterdam were better than the ones I wrote for the song in the first place.

We went without drums, so next to the cello, most of the instruments we had to carry were relatively light and easily transported. We missed a stop once, though, and when asking in my broken German as to exactly where the train was going, upon hearing the response, “Salzburg,” we realized how tired we really were when our first group reaction was, “Wow. Never been.”

every one you give out to your band will get lost, including your own. The realization that this is our biggest problem, gives me hope that we’ll last a good long while together.

Especially when you meet him in-person, on the radio.

up the coast of Scotland viewed through the train window is still my favourite movie.

as touring with some of your closest friends, playing music to people who are loving it. It really puts things far into perspective – not many people get to do this sort of thing, and each time out, as the shows get bigger, I can’t help but feel more thankful for it all.