So we've been over here in the United Kingdom for about a week now. The first show we were supposed to play in Portsmouth, UK with gaslight anthem was actually canceled because the area was blanketed with the most snow seen here within the last 18 years. It's funny, hailing from western New York, we all deal with feet and feet of snow every single winter. Every single winter. However, in these parts, a couple inches brings entire cities to their collective knees. After a long flight where I publicly embarrassed myself the last thing myself or any of us wanted was to have our first show shut down. Obviously, these events were entirely out of our control. With the help of our friend and driver Stanley we managed to schedule a last second show at a pub about two hours away. We knew the turnout wasn't going to be stellar but it was less about that and more about playing a show to a couple of people in order to break the monotony of bumming around a strange city all day. So, that's what happened, Polar Bear Club played to a couple of people. I got drunk, smoked too many cigarettes and stared at the bar maid.
Since that night PBC has played four shows with Gaslight Anthem. The shows have obviously been well attended with crowds ranging from 500 people all the way to over 1000. We're indirect support for these shows which means Polar Bear goes on about a half an hour after doors open. Because of this the club is just starting to fill up when PBC begins their set. Clearly, kids are here to see Gaslight Anthem and the direct support, Frank Turner. Yes, there are always a handful of gracious and well appreciated PBC fans that come out, sing along, and show their support by picking up a couple bits of merch. Thank you all for that. I know all of the dudes are stoked. I also know it must feel pretty awkward up there for the dudes behind a barrier on a five foot stage away from everyone. Coming from a punk rock and hardcore background, such accommodations are deemed mostly unnecessary and invasive . However, this is to be expected with shows this size.
Like I mentioned before in a previous post, the UK isn't that all different from what I've experienced back home in the states. Other than some older building that I spot every once in awhile near the club, everything looks the same to me! Sure, it's entirely possible that this is just me being an uneducated and idiotic American but as I often tell my ex's, I can't help the way I feel! Mainly, I enjoy the differences in language, especially the slang of the English. Who knew that pants meant underwear over here? That fanny is actually a vagina! My god, bell end means dickhead! Currently, I'm doing the best I can to come back with an English accent. The motivation behind this, like everything else, is getting laid. So when I get back home, if we run into each other and I tell you to “Sort your life out you bloody cow” in a heavy English droll, please go out of your way to sleep with me. If not for me, do it in the name of tourism, thanks.
This is our second tour with Gaslight Anthem so we're actually really good friends. The night before last was probably the most fun I had with those gents following a show. Once the performance concluded, PBC and some TGA dudes headed down the street to a local club in order to wet our whistles. Anytime you enter any type of establishment and you're greeted by a pack of drunken midgets, you know you're in for a good night. Yes, that was actually the case. I'm not one to judge others but when short people are stumbling, getting stuck in revolving doors and yelling at you for being too tall, one tends to point and laugh at the vertically challenged. This is more than enough to make a good evening great but what added to all the fun was the dance performance of Goose and the others that actually cleared out the entire bar. America.
Last night's show in Kingston was the most exciting and energetic as of yet by far. Polar Bear Club actually played a headline show without Frank Turner or The Gaslight Anthem. This venue was more their style and only held about 120 kids. Attached to a pub, The Fighting Cocks was the name of the place. With low ceilings and a “stage” a couple inches high, the atmosphere reminded me of a basement show more than anything else. The show ended up selling out and I was reminded again why I'm still out here doing this – for fun. Everyone in the place was either pumping their fist, singing along or both. I wanted to stage dive or at least cause some sort of uncomfortableness for others but I couldn't even get near the front. You'll be glad to know that Polar Bear Club is still a punk rock band.
Today, just like in college, I'm up early and surrounded by dudes. We're in some family's house that may or may not know we're actually here. The vibe is awkward and I've had to piss for the last three hours. I'm too afraid to leave this room for I am afraid of getting caught with a pee boner by a confused father who may think I'm here to visit his daughter. Either way, we're in London today and back with the Gaslight Anthem and Frank Turner. Should be a huge show but I know everyone is going to miss the special quality that small shows bring. If I stage dive today, hit the barrier and break my neck, don't tell my mom I wrote the phrase pee boner. Cheerio.
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