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Guests For The UK Dates

As mentioned yesterday, here are the guests we’ve got coming along as support on the UK tour.

• London – Eureka Machines
• Sheffield – The Glitterati + Silverjet
• Manchester – Laika Dog + Eureka Machines
• Glasgow – Baby Chaos + Sluts of Trust
• Newcastle – Supercharger + Eureka Machines
• Wolverhampton – Wolfsbane + Very Special Performance
• Southampton – OAF + Ginger & Hot Steve Acoustic

So it’s well worth getting down there early and catching them all!

Ginger to play Download Festival (Twice!)
*New Stage Time*

Well guys, it looks like the show of support to the Download organisers paid off!

As well as the already scheduled appearance with Michael Monroe on Saturday 12th, Ginger is to headline the Jägermeister acoustic stage on Sunday 13th June.

Ginger will be hitting the stage at 7.20pm – accompanied by Billy Morrison, Chris Catalyst, Jase Edwards and Rich Jones (so far…) – for a half hour set of Wildhearts songs that he’s determined will be “the loudest, most OTT acoustic gig ever, or we will have failed. And we don’t fail. Right?”

So you’ve heard the man: bring your best singing voices and expect mayhem and surprises!

Tickets and more information are available from the Download website.

Pictures From The Twelfth Day


At Rock Radio, Manchester for an acoustic rendition of The Only One.

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Same Old Newcastle (Day 11)

Family present? Tick.

Friends all lined up to see you stand or fall? Tick.

Audience about to stand in almost respectful silence? Tick.

Funny thing about playing Newcastle is that it still feels like you’re paying your dues.

Songs are met, initially, with a stillness of quiet approval before a loud cheer of authentication as each song ends. It is, at once, both off-putting and comforting. Nowhere is like Newcastle, and that’s just as it should be.

For me Newcastle is my own microcosmic version of the UK, and in this version crime is met with indifference by authorities almost annoyed by its inconvenience. It’s hard to get jail time in Newcastle. My oldest friend, Panda, meets me during the day for a catch up. He looks very normal. It’s only recently that he’s gotten the use of his right eye back after a severe beating from three teenage strangers who jumped him from behind, knocked him unconscious and proceeded to stamp on his head as he lay. Doctors have reconstructed his eye socket and quite a lot of his face, his eyeball has been taken out twice for surgery and right now only his sense of positivity is getting him through the day. It’s a miracle he’s walking. Or even alive.

The criminals were caught and arrested (having beaten someone up on CCTV only minutes before attacking Panda) and let off with two cautions and one easy sentence. He will be out after a year or two with good behaviour.

They’d have had to kill him to get a more fitting punishment.

This is my England.

More and more people I know are being attacked, or telling stories of people attacked, by random thugs born of a society that provides no release of boredom and a government that offers no deterrent.

When the UK issues the ‘three strikes and out’ law (three offences and you’re in jail, buddy) then I’ll bring my family back here to live.

The band played amazingly well. The audience eventually thawed and lost their cool. It was great to see friends and family again. The bus eventually pulled away to the sound of drunken people arguing by the big market. No doubt someone will end up a bloody mess in A&E somewhere and the public will glibly pay for the doctors’ bills with their monthly taxes. Bills that will continue to mount.

If these people are going to cost us money then wouldn’t one taxable expenditure of a jail sentence for repeat violent offenders be a far cheaper and much safer option?

Don’t we get a say?


Leeds And Glasgow (Day 9 & 10)

Wow, what a couple of days. Leeds Cockpit was, quite possibly, the best show of the tour. The audience were incredible and the band played a stormer. The resulting high followed everyone back to the bus where we proceeded to party like we were the Rolling Stones or something.

Come morning I woke up with the kind of hangover that more resembles still being drunk.

Hot Steve met me on the stairs armed with with an ice cold bottle of Magners he was enjoying. One sip made me want one myself, but on closer inspection the closest thing to cider in the fridge was champagne, presented to me by No Americana a few days ago. I don’t usually drink the stuff but one glass went down so well that it was followed by first another, and soon the whole bottle was gone. It’s not even midday and I was drunk beyond belief.

No problem, I’ll sleep it off.

On being awoke, around 7pm I realised that I was still drunk. So drunk, in fact, that I accepted the offer of a few drags of a spliff. I’m no smoker and have an incredibly low tolerance to the stuff. Already disorientated and spinning the pot hit me like a well aimed upper cut.

Once I eventually found the dressing room I realised that my bag was back on the bus, so, on leaving by the side entrance I heard the door slam shut behind me. Banging on the door proved useless due to the level of volume inside the venue.

It is now 8:25 and I’m due onstage in five minutes.

The phone, typically, died as I continued leaving messages on everyone’s answer phones due to the zero reception within the venue.

Now I’m stoned, drunk, confused, and my paranoia is growing due to the amount of Wildhearts fans outside having a cigarette.

Fuck it, I’m just going to have to slope in undercover of the fans. I manage to squeeze myself into the packed Garage where a security guard recognises me and allows me access to the dressing room.

Fortunately we are running late, gear problems forcing a late start to the set. Just enough time to get my stage clothes on.

It takes me a full song to realise that I’m not wearing an ear plug and the band are so deafeningly loud that I can’t pitch. I eventually righted myself and began the longest gig of my life.

I will never play a show stoned again in my life. It was the most terrifying thing imaginable. What really struck me, through the hazy paranoia, was how fucking good this band are. How dynamic Ritch plays the drums. How amazing our sound man is. How great our crew is. And how incredible our audience is.

Glasgow, thank God it was to you that I played the scariest show I’ve ever played. You made me feel like I was home. You calmed me down and allowed me to, occasionally, enjoy the thrilling spectacle of a rammed Glasgow show with the best band I could possibly experience it with.


Etiquette Exeter Style (Day 6)

After a wonderful walk around Exeter we remarked how chilled out this place is and how few arseholes there seems to be in Exeter.

Sure enough, come showtime, they all crawled from beneath their rocks to attend our gig.

Don’t get me wrong, there were a LOT of awesome people there too, presumably, also, having their evening ruined by meat heads.

What do I have to do to get rid of these people from our audience? Answers in the comment section below, please.

What kind of person pays to attend a show only to talk over the singer every time he tries to introduce a song? I will never live long enough to understand this logic. I mean, fair play if you have something funny or constructive to shout but these people aren’t even hecklers in the classic sense of the word. These are folk who consider any crap whatsoever to enter their brain to be of cultural importance. And will rudely cut off a public speaker in order to address their point of view. Manners, it has to be said, have not been taught to some people, unfortunate, then, that the least mannered appear to be the loudest mouthed.

They spoil your evening, they spoil ours and no-one wants them around. They wouldn’t be missed if they disappeared. So please, if you know anyone who enjoys shouting random insults when a hard working band are trying to introduce the next song they’ve spent ages rehearsing, if you know anyone who enjoys shouting over the singer because they get so little attention in their normal, dull lives, could you please ask them nicely to stop coming to our shows? We don’t want their money and we definitely don’t want their company.

I’m so sorry for the idiots of Exeter spoiling what should have been an amazing, warm, funny, informative night. We will play places on this tour, full of people who want to listen to us, and this desire goes so deep that they will actually shut their mouths at the appropriate times in which to do so. Unfortunately you have had your one evening spoiled slightly.

Having said that the band played a faultless set and Ritch split two snare heads due to excessive battering. No one else on this tour got that, so all was not lost.

Exeter, lovely place. Not as keen to play there again, though, as I am to come back for a visit.

Day off today. Get to see my family and chill out for an entire 24 hours. Tomorrow we play Birmingham. I love playing Birmingham. Bring it on.


Portsmouth Is Love (Day 5)

Who’d have thunk it? The best show of the tour, so far, I think, took place in Portsmouth, last night.

The audience were welcoming, warm and responsive, the band played a faultless set, the Black Spiders rocked big time (and later joined us on the bus for drinks) and me ‘n Gav decided to keep growing our beards until the end of the tour. They’re itching like hell but a deal is a deal.

After walking around Portsmouth, or Pompey or Southsea or whatever else they call this place, checking out the awesome shops of Albert Road it’s a treat to see such a myriad of eye watering expenditure dens peppering the street. Culturally valid accessory shops rub shoulders with semi-antique bric-a-brac stores in a bid to tempt visiting consumers into coughing up readies for essential items that they will ultimately lose interest in on leaving Portsmouth.

We have the smallest and most stifling dressing room in the western world, so in an attempt to rid myself of the claustrophobia based migraine steadily gnawing at my sense of well being I go and eat a fish by the seaside, approx 1km away. There’s nothing quite like a walk along an English beach to fill a person with equal feelings of happiness and sadness. I mean any walk along the sea can make a fellow feel a little insignificant, but something about the English seaside makes me think of the people on the other side of the water, baking in the sunshine, bronzed, naked and not think of the people on the other side of the water wrapped in multi layered protection to ward off the freezing gales of the North sea.

Anyway, the fish was lovely and the mushy peas burnt the living fuck out of the inside of my mouth.

All in all a lovely day. Lovely place. I love Portsmouth, and I didn’t even know it.


Pictures From The Fifth Day

Our monitor man for this evening, Deano.

Our monitor man for this evening, Deano.

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Norwich, Nice Place, Next! (Day 4)

Sunday night and all is seemingly well in the sleepy hamlet of Norwich, paddling ground for the mighty Nicholas Parsons. We take the stage to rapturous applause and sizeable grins. They like it. Great.

Uh oh, we appear to have a few people who cannot, and dammit will not, grab hold of the concept of this being a performance of our last album, and continue to shout Suckerpunch, throughout the set. For you, my friend, we will not play Suckerpunch at all, even in the second set, where it stands third song in.


I’ll tell you why. Imagine the scenario. You’re talking and someone appears to have something more important to say, and they loudly interrupt. You accept that you aren’t the most interesting person alive and so graciously concede to the interrupter. Except the interrupter, hiding within the darkness of a crowd, decides not to continue their line in ignorance and clams up when asked what it is they want. Leaving, in place of a mildly interesting monologue of varying importance an awkward silence that serves no purpose other than to wind up the person talking and leave them pondering the vast level of ignorance and bad manners of someone who’d stop you talking in favour of saying nothing themselves.

I can’t get back into the gig for wishing that people like this would stop coming to our shows. There must be a thousand other bands you can follow? Look on the internet. Although there is a strong likelihood that you can’t operate a computer. Suffice it to say that you bring nothing to the event and you spoil the atmosphere for people who are genuinely enjoying themselves. Your absence will be welcomed.

All in all a stunning performance by the band. Probably the best we’ve played the entire tour. I’m very glad that those who actually wanted to listen in Norwich heard a band at the absolutely peak of their ability. I don’t know why the ignorance of others winds me up to such a point that I find myself losing my own balance and wanting to exact my rising anger. This is my problem. Balance is work in progress, a road with quite a few road blocks and falling rocks, a mode of transport rather than a destination.

Hope Portsmouth has fewer idiots in attendance and I pray that the people that didn’t enjoy it last night never come again.

Over and out of patience.


Gonna Lose Your Mind In Nottingham Rock City (Day 3)

Kerrang! came to review it, lots of friends came down to hear it, more than 700 advance tickets were sold for it and they even managed to turn off that awful air-con during it.

What? You might be asking yourself.

Nottingham Rock City, god dammit. One of the finest, most legendary gigs on the planet and when it’s full to the rafters, as it was this evening, it’s a place of awe inspiring lunacy. You could hear the crowd cheering like crazy when Black Spiders were churning out their motor fuelled dirt rock. Man, how loud are they going to be for us?

Answer, VERY. Although Bristol had set the standard pretty high the previous night Nottingham eat standards with chips. Absolutely astounding reception from this wonderful crowd, and one that I was so honoured to have Kerrang! present at. If this doesn’t get a 5/5 review then at least everyone there knows it was, in fact, easily a 5/5 gig.

I live for nights like this, when the band and the audience are so tuned into each other that any night could have been Saturday night. Nice, then, that this was, in fact, a Saturday night.

Especially great to see Pikey Dan looking so happy with his beautiful new girlfriend.

Gig of the tour, so far. We love you Nottingham.