Rushing Whispers

January 16th - Lille      The drive to Lille yesterday was almost four hours, but went smoothly. Lee stayed behind and took the train over earlier today — he went to Roundup’s second show last night to say hello to Peter.      The concert hall here is a nice little place, and I found a bakery down the street that makes a croque monsieur to kill for. Harry told us that tomorrow’s Belgian show is sold out, which put everyone in a good mood. January 17th - Bruges      Wrote a quick hello to Liliane on a postcard and stuffed it into an envelope with Lee’s letter. I’ll write her a proper letter soon and one for Aunt Lily too, and send those out between the two Liège shows. January 19th - Brussels      I was chatting with one of the venue’s staff tonight and they mentioned Aces Down are playing in Namur on Sunday night (today’s Wednesday). They’re pretty good psych rock and the singer can falsetto like crazy; I know Colin likes the...

     Though it had been less than four weeks since we’d last been in the French capital, the Parisians had come out in droves to see Amoeba.      Dale's sister had also come to the venue— arriving moments before soundcheck— though she certainly wasn't here for the concert itself. I’d kept Sandra company with light-hearted chitchat, but we often paused to listen to the men’s banter as they fiddled with their instruments onstage.      The siblings seemed pleased to see each other, and had now been in another room down the hall for around twenty minutes. There had been a slight issue found during soundcheck that Cameron and Lee were now attending to, along with one of the equipment techs, so I kept myself occupied with the drinks table.      I’d just filled a paper cup with water when Colin’s loud laughter made me turn my attention to him, only to see Willie pointing at him menacingly.      “Careful,” the guitarist ...

      With very few exceptions, leaving for the next city straight from the venue is always hectic. Tonight was not one of the exceptions, so I retreated to the bus as soon as the band came off the stage. Anyway, I knew they’d only linger backstage for ten or fifteen minutes until Harry would be carting them onto the bus as well.      I made conversation with the driver, but it didn’t even take three minutes before he excused himself to have a smoke. There was nothing against smoking inside the bus, but in the three weeks I’d known Francis it became clear he wasn’t the most comfortable when alone with a woman.      Once I got settled, I pulled out my notebook and pen and turned to the page I’d left off at. The journal itself was only the size of a paperback book, but I’d brought two with me to make sure I’d have enough room for the whole tour.      January 5th - Montpellier      Arrived here m...

      Despite the band’s modest worries about ticket sales, the two weeks since the release of Lion Rampant in America had brought enough excitement to fill the 1,800 seats at the venue in London. The whole night had gone remarkably well, and the next day we’d set off to the airport to travel to France.      Only three French cities had the chance to see Amoeba this round— though six others and a second night in Paris would be the first gigs in the new year— and yesterday’s drive from Bordeaux to Bilbao went smoothly. The concert would only be in three days, so I’d gotten excited at the prospect of time off and couldn't help being mildly ticked off when Harry made an announcement after this morning’s breakfast.      “Have you got your overnight bags packed?”      Colin put down his toast. “Were we supposed to?”      “Why did no one tell me?” Dale let out a sigh. “I can’t be blamed for being late ...

      I had bought a journal before we began the tour, to keep track of the cities Amoeba played in and any other interesting happenings. I figured it would be a useful aid to memory when writing letters— there was no doubt I’d be writing many in the coming months, having had so little time off since the North American tour.      Only two nights had been written about so far; Friday’s tour opener in Newcastle and the Lancaster gig the following day. After yesterday’s show in Sheffield, we got a night’s sleep at a hotel before heading onto the bus for the ninety mile journey to Birmingham, the site of tomorrow’s performance. We’d all checked in to the hotel around an hour ago, and the band was set to film a promotional video in an hours’ time.      December 12th - Sheffield!      Overnight drive from Lancaster — nearly peed laughing at a sign an hour before arriving here: a town called Broadbottom (Wide-Ass), ...

      “How far did you say his house is?” I asked Cameron, just as he flagged a taxi for us. We were on the last part of our trip to the house of James Wyle, Cameron’s old bandmate and friend.      “Fifteen-odd miles,” was the answer, and Cameron held the door open for me to get into the taxi first. We’d gotten off at Dalmeny station after getting on a train in Aberdeen over two hours ago, but a car was needed for the rest of the way.      Cameron sat beside me and told the driver our destination; I could feel his excitement. He and James had spoken over the phone a few times since we’d returned from the tour, and more than once the calls had lasted well over an hour. Now that we were less than thirty minutes from their reunion, Cameron was nearly vibrating with anticipation.      Throughout the last week, I’d been asking him about his friendship with James and learned more about Seven by Eight. The band hadn...

     “You’re all out of your minds if you think I’m letting you take a taxi to the airport,” my sister growled, putting emphasis on our insanity. “I’m driving, and that’s that.”      We couldn’t quite argue, at least not with the look on her face. Liliane had gorged us with food and drink last night until reluctantly agreeing to let us get some sleep once midnight had come and gone. It was three o'clock in the afternoon now, though, and Lee looked like he hadn't slept a wink.      Cameron tried to resist Liliane's demand of being our chauffeur, but she shut him up with a look that could bend steel. He must have known it would be useless, and brought our suitcases to the car with Lee's help.      Liliane shook her head. "It wasn't this hard to watch you leave last time."      "No, it wasn't." I peered out of the sunroom's window towards the men; they’d each lit a cigarette.      "You have...