Paul Raggity, Boss of the United Kingdon 1999 - 2003
BREZHNEV."THE HAMMER AND SICKOS" TOUR OF THE UK.OCTOBER 2001.
Dreaming of becoming a rock star? Have you ever played a killer guitar solo on a tennis racket or mimed into a hairbrush?
Admit it....of course you have. And why not? Groupies, booze, drugs and sitting poolside sipping Tequila while roadies
soundcheck your sponsored equipment...it’s more appealing than trudging into work to be shafted by ‘the man’. Getting
paid to play music? How cool is that?Well, forget all that shit...this is the Brezhnev Tour story. Throughout the rest of
Europe it’s generally accepted touring bands receive free beer and food in return for playing. Sometimes even money. Not
so in the UK. Here you’re lucky if the landlord of the venue will even show you where to park the van. But this tour has been
set up through a D.I.Y network, which means there’s no promoters skimming 15% from the door money, and only genuine
people have been involved in arranging these gigs. That means they do it because they love live music, not personal gain.
So here we go...five people and an insane driver, all squeezed into a van on a punk rock tour of the UK with only one
intention: real punk rock...the way it should be....and this is what happened.
Friday 5: Having left Amsterdam at 5.30am this band of assorted Dutch, Canadian and American fuckwits eventually arrive
at the ‘Indian Queen’ in Boston. A small place with a BIG attitude. The turn out is around forty people and the P.A sound is
shit. No problem. A storming gig ensues, complete with gorilla suit, chainsaw and Brezhnev trademark blow up penis,
affectionately known as "Party Pete". These kids in the I.Q know how to rrrock, and with a set consisting of old faves and
plenty of newer songs nobody leaves without a smile on their face and a ringing in their ears. But Brezhnev have played
here before, this was easy pickings...and a perfect way to start a tour. A few late drinks before crashing out on the
promoters floor (Motor’s sleeping bag still stinks worse than a dead fish wrapped in an old sock).
Saturday 6: Crawl out into the cold light of day early and go and grab some breakfast in a suave local cafe. The owner
looks really pissed off but can’t resist the cash. Service with a grimace. On the way to the ‘Primrose’ in Leeds we receive a
call saying the support bands are refusing to play, and they have the P.A in their house. Looks like the gigs off. Not the
perfect way to begin the second day of a tour. Just for dramatic effect, the sky darkens with ominous clouds. Nice touch. As
there’s no real alternative, we carry on regardless, and thankfully a P.A is eventually found. The show must go on, but as
some people thought it was cancelled and many others are going to a fucking rave night near-by ( don’t ask me why ‘punks’
go these things) it goes on to only a handful of people. The hastily arranges support band is just two insane guys shouting
shit over a backing tape. I think to myself this is the worst ‘band’ I have ever heard (I was to be proved wrong in Leicester),
but it only helps Brezhnev to sound better! It’s fucking hard to put on a good show to few people, but these boys give it their
all, and it’s not a bad night in the end. Once again, sleeping arrangements are split between floors and the freezing cold
van, although the food Gods are smiling and beans are provided. Believe me, that’s rare in the UK.
Sunday 7: After getting lost trying to escape Leeds, we eventually arrive at ‘Lamplighters’ in Leicester. As we enter the pub,
the giant TV screams out America has gone to war. Great!! It’s bad enough for for bands to compete with rival gigs and
apathetic audiences, but live coverage of a world war is pretty tough going. That, and a fucking brutal rainstorm, not to
mention that due to double-booking, this gig has been on and off more than a whore’s panties, so once again the
attendance is low. Brezhnev are not effected, and the show is a riot, including a stage invasion from an ageing old skanky
slut who strips naked and attempts to pull out the band’s dicks mid song. Whatever Paul Weller was referring to when he
sang "That’s Entertainment’ was nothing compared to this. The slapper then offers everyone sex in return for somewhere to
sleep. Did I say don’t expect groupies? Well, I meant ones without scabs on their faces. The two support bands were
whining Indie kids, and I’m thinking I should call the call the idiots who supported in Leeds. I owe them an apology. THIS is
the worst bands I have ever seen. They even slaughter a few Clash and Sex Pistols songs, just to make the torture more
intense. But Brezhnev play a great set, with the new songs such as ‘Park Your Car Up Your Ass’ sounding better as each
night goes by. The landlord is impressed and donates beer, excellent. The band were to receive no money for playing their
tits off tonight, although a collection raises £40 from the appreciative crowd. Top night!
Monday 8: So as the world goes to war, Brezhnev go to Newcastle Under Lyme, part of Stoke, which was recently voted
‘the worst place to live in England’. Official! Two hours waiting for the ‘Full Moon’ to open and the shittiest chips ever and I’m
willing to agree. After taking £38 on the door the band are presented with £8, apparently the rest is for the P.A. Ironic when
donations last night raised five times more. Thankfully though, support band Egg Raid are pretty cool, and the Brezhnev set
is also well received. The power of the songs is undeniable, and the added effect of the stage props help to provide great
shows. My turn to sleep in the van and spend all night listening to the rain hammering the roof like a skeleton wanking in a
biscuit tin. Life on the road, you can’t beat it!
Tuesday 9: Most bands avoid playing Monday and Tuesday in the UK, not Brezhnev. They’re either really enthusiastic or
really dumb, possible both, so it’s off to ‘Manhattans’ in Hereford. An eerie name considering the recent news. The walls are
full of New York pictures, now obviously out of date. About fifty people turn up. Not bad for a Tuesday. A good gig, until an
encore of the Ramones classic ‘Commando’ has some drunken bitch ranting about the Taliban. I thought this was just a
rock show? Apart from that, the reception is good. Nowhere to sleep tonight so a long drive back to base with the driver
taking all our lives in her hands. Not only is she completely insane, she’s also falling asleep and she drives off the road
enough times to make me certain this is going to be the last night of my life. Somehow though we arrive home and I sleep
the sleep of someone who has seen the cold grasping fingers of death tapping his shoulder.
At this point it should be pointed out, if Brezhnev were doing this for financial reasons, they’d be barking mad. Touring does
NOT make money until you’re selling out huge halls. They’re paying for the van, driver, ferry, petrol, food, beer etc, and
losing money fast. Treat touring like a vacation with musical interludes and you won’t be disappointed. Expect more and you’
re a misguided fool.
Anyway...back to the fun....
Wednesday10: Birmingham’s ‘Old Railway’, early haunt of a little known band called Black Sabbath. Many bands
romanticise the Birmingham scene. All are conspicuous by their abscence, except Jock from GBH. Brezhnev play a ripping
set tonight, the best so far, and it’s a great sound too. Having played here last year the crowd are all familiar with the songs
from the ‘North America Sucks’ album, mainly ‘District 72’, ‘Suicide Suit’ and ‘North America Sucks’...but the new stuff also
goes down well, leaving people looking forward to the new album.
Thursday11: Down to the ‘Hobgoblin’ in Brighton in the big orange petrol guzzling demon. I lost count of the amount of
times we nearly crashed today. "Life on the road"? This was very nearly "Death on the side of the road". Is this driver a
junkie? She’s certainly fucking insane, and after the show is thankfully sacked. Great gig, over one hundred people cram
into this small pub. Excellent atmosphere too, and it’s obvious Brezhnev will do down well tonight, with the intro of Dogshit
running round the crowd in a gorilla suit being particularly funny as the room was so small. It never fails to create a buzz,
and it’s damn funny watching the terror on people’s faces. Like, as if a gorilla would be in a pub in Brighton...not at these
drink prices anyway! On the way to sleep on the promoters floor, the van door falls off. Yeah.
Friday 12: Mend door with a hockey stick. Don’t question it, just fucking drive. Hopelessly lost in one way system before
arriving at ‘The Joiners’ in Southampton. By nine o’clock the gig is officially "Sold Out". Over 300 people. A tour of
contrasts. From small crowds to turning people away. Their reputation is travelling before them. The show is excellent. Lots
of smiles, lots of dancing, and lots of mercandise sold. A night you don’t want to end, so obviously everyone wants to party,
so it’s back to the promoters in a van overloaded more than the Titanic. Several hours later, some kind of sleep in achieved
amongst a carpet of empty bottles.
Saturday 13: The grand finale. I wake with a banging head, slide out of my sleeping bag like a turd out of a constipated
arse and up to the "Fleur de Lys’ in Nuneaton. "Not exactly on the gig circuit" I’ve heard them whisper. Exactly, my friends.
The gig circuit in this country is depleting faster than a burst balloon, it’s time to take risks and put gigs on in different
places. All the usual ones are sucked up by evil tribute bands. If you provide entertainment, the people will come...only not
tonight they won’t. Well, it was worth a try. Most of the expected audience are at a private party and free gig elsewhere, but
there’s enough to have fun. Once again, Dogshit’s gorilla suit and a ripping set ensure a good atmosphere. The owner of
the pub is complaining it’s too loud. Shame. She complains more, but I tell her can’t hear her, it’s too loud! After a few hours
sleep it’s off to catch the return ferry home.
And that’s it. Lemmy’s warts ‘n’ all. The Ramones sang "Touring touring, it’s never boring". Falsehood! Sitting around for
hours is mind numbing if you’re not watching videos in your luxury tour bus or hotel suite. But who would want to be in a
band and not tour? Only an arsehole. Brezhnev maybe didn’t make vast amounts of money, but they made new recruits
and friends. If you wanna be in a rock ‘n roll band you gotta wake up and smell the stink of an unwashed sleeping bag, sell
your soul for £8 and don’t believe everything you see on MTV. Despite a driver with a death wish, crappy weather, many
shit support bands and even war...this tour was superb. Three months later and I’m still getting letters saying so, and asking
when they’re coming back. Motor’s rancid sleeping bag and all.
Paul Raggity.
Dreaming of becoming a rock star? Have you ever played a killer guitar solo on a tennis racket or mimed into a hairbrush?
Admit it....of course you have. And why not? Groupies, booze, drugs and sitting poolside sipping Tequila while roadies
soundcheck your sponsored equipment...it’s more appealing than trudging into work to be shafted by ‘the man’. Getting
paid to play music? How cool is that?Well, forget all that shit...this is the Brezhnev Tour story. Throughout the rest of
Europe it’s generally accepted touring bands receive free beer and food in return for playing. Sometimes even money. Not
so in the UK. Here you’re lucky if the landlord of the venue will even show you where to park the van. But this tour has been
set up through a D.I.Y network, which means there’s no promoters skimming 15% from the door money, and only genuine
people have been involved in arranging these gigs. That means they do it because they love live music, not personal gain.
So here we go...five people and an insane driver, all squeezed into a van on a punk rock tour of the UK with only one
intention: real punk rock...the way it should be....and this is what happened.
Friday 5: Having left Amsterdam at 5.30am this band of assorted Dutch, Canadian and American fuckwits eventually arrive
at the ‘Indian Queen’ in Boston. A small place with a BIG attitude. The turn out is around forty people and the P.A sound is
shit. No problem. A storming gig ensues, complete with gorilla suit, chainsaw and Brezhnev trademark blow up penis,
affectionately known as "Party Pete". These kids in the I.Q know how to rrrock, and with a set consisting of old faves and
plenty of newer songs nobody leaves without a smile on their face and a ringing in their ears. But Brezhnev have played
here before, this was easy pickings...and a perfect way to start a tour. A few late drinks before crashing out on the
promoters floor (Motor’s sleeping bag still stinks worse than a dead fish wrapped in an old sock).
Saturday 6: Crawl out into the cold light of day early and go and grab some breakfast in a suave local cafe. The owner
looks really pissed off but can’t resist the cash. Service with a grimace. On the way to the ‘Primrose’ in Leeds we receive a
call saying the support bands are refusing to play, and they have the P.A in their house. Looks like the gigs off. Not the
perfect way to begin the second day of a tour. Just for dramatic effect, the sky darkens with ominous clouds. Nice touch. As
there’s no real alternative, we carry on regardless, and thankfully a P.A is eventually found. The show must go on, but as
some people thought it was cancelled and many others are going to a fucking rave night near-by ( don’t ask me why ‘punks’
go these things) it goes on to only a handful of people. The hastily arranges support band is just two insane guys shouting
shit over a backing tape. I think to myself this is the worst ‘band’ I have ever heard (I was to be proved wrong in Leicester),
but it only helps Brezhnev to sound better! It’s fucking hard to put on a good show to few people, but these boys give it their
all, and it’s not a bad night in the end. Once again, sleeping arrangements are split between floors and the freezing cold
van, although the food Gods are smiling and beans are provided. Believe me, that’s rare in the UK.
Sunday 7: After getting lost trying to escape Leeds, we eventually arrive at ‘Lamplighters’ in Leicester. As we enter the pub,
the giant TV screams out America has gone to war. Great!! It’s bad enough for for bands to compete with rival gigs and
apathetic audiences, but live coverage of a world war is pretty tough going. That, and a fucking brutal rainstorm, not to
mention that due to double-booking, this gig has been on and off more than a whore’s panties, so once again the
attendance is low. Brezhnev are not effected, and the show is a riot, including a stage invasion from an ageing old skanky
slut who strips naked and attempts to pull out the band’s dicks mid song. Whatever Paul Weller was referring to when he
sang "That’s Entertainment’ was nothing compared to this. The slapper then offers everyone sex in return for somewhere to
sleep. Did I say don’t expect groupies? Well, I meant ones without scabs on their faces. The two support bands were
whining Indie kids, and I’m thinking I should call the call the idiots who supported in Leeds. I owe them an apology. THIS is
the worst bands I have ever seen. They even slaughter a few Clash and Sex Pistols songs, just to make the torture more
intense. But Brezhnev play a great set, with the new songs such as ‘Park Your Car Up Your Ass’ sounding better as each
night goes by. The landlord is impressed and donates beer, excellent. The band were to receive no money for playing their
tits off tonight, although a collection raises £40 from the appreciative crowd. Top night!
Monday 8: So as the world goes to war, Brezhnev go to Newcastle Under Lyme, part of Stoke, which was recently voted
‘the worst place to live in England’. Official! Two hours waiting for the ‘Full Moon’ to open and the shittiest chips ever and I’m
willing to agree. After taking £38 on the door the band are presented with £8, apparently the rest is for the P.A. Ironic when
donations last night raised five times more. Thankfully though, support band Egg Raid are pretty cool, and the Brezhnev set
is also well received. The power of the songs is undeniable, and the added effect of the stage props help to provide great
shows. My turn to sleep in the van and spend all night listening to the rain hammering the roof like a skeleton wanking in a
biscuit tin. Life on the road, you can’t beat it!
Tuesday 9: Most bands avoid playing Monday and Tuesday in the UK, not Brezhnev. They’re either really enthusiastic or
really dumb, possible both, so it’s off to ‘Manhattans’ in Hereford. An eerie name considering the recent news. The walls are
full of New York pictures, now obviously out of date. About fifty people turn up. Not bad for a Tuesday. A good gig, until an
encore of the Ramones classic ‘Commando’ has some drunken bitch ranting about the Taliban. I thought this was just a
rock show? Apart from that, the reception is good. Nowhere to sleep tonight so a long drive back to base with the driver
taking all our lives in her hands. Not only is she completely insane, she’s also falling asleep and she drives off the road
enough times to make me certain this is going to be the last night of my life. Somehow though we arrive home and I sleep
the sleep of someone who has seen the cold grasping fingers of death tapping his shoulder.
At this point it should be pointed out, if Brezhnev were doing this for financial reasons, they’d be barking mad. Touring does
NOT make money until you’re selling out huge halls. They’re paying for the van, driver, ferry, petrol, food, beer etc, and
losing money fast. Treat touring like a vacation with musical interludes and you won’t be disappointed. Expect more and you’
re a misguided fool.
Anyway...back to the fun....
Wednesday10: Birmingham’s ‘Old Railway’, early haunt of a little known band called Black Sabbath. Many bands
romanticise the Birmingham scene. All are conspicuous by their abscence, except Jock from GBH. Brezhnev play a ripping
set tonight, the best so far, and it’s a great sound too. Having played here last year the crowd are all familiar with the songs
from the ‘North America Sucks’ album, mainly ‘District 72’, ‘Suicide Suit’ and ‘North America Sucks’...but the new stuff also
goes down well, leaving people looking forward to the new album.
Thursday11: Down to the ‘Hobgoblin’ in Brighton in the big orange petrol guzzling demon. I lost count of the amount of
times we nearly crashed today. "Life on the road"? This was very nearly "Death on the side of the road". Is this driver a
junkie? She’s certainly fucking insane, and after the show is thankfully sacked. Great gig, over one hundred people cram
into this small pub. Excellent atmosphere too, and it’s obvious Brezhnev will do down well tonight, with the intro of Dogshit
running round the crowd in a gorilla suit being particularly funny as the room was so small. It never fails to create a buzz,
and it’s damn funny watching the terror on people’s faces. Like, as if a gorilla would be in a pub in Brighton...not at these
drink prices anyway! On the way to sleep on the promoters floor, the van door falls off. Yeah.
Friday 12: Mend door with a hockey stick. Don’t question it, just fucking drive. Hopelessly lost in one way system before
arriving at ‘The Joiners’ in Southampton. By nine o’clock the gig is officially "Sold Out". Over 300 people. A tour of
contrasts. From small crowds to turning people away. Their reputation is travelling before them. The show is excellent. Lots
of smiles, lots of dancing, and lots of mercandise sold. A night you don’t want to end, so obviously everyone wants to party,
so it’s back to the promoters in a van overloaded more than the Titanic. Several hours later, some kind of sleep in achieved
amongst a carpet of empty bottles.
Saturday 13: The grand finale. I wake with a banging head, slide out of my sleeping bag like a turd out of a constipated
arse and up to the "Fleur de Lys’ in Nuneaton. "Not exactly on the gig circuit" I’ve heard them whisper. Exactly, my friends.
The gig circuit in this country is depleting faster than a burst balloon, it’s time to take risks and put gigs on in different
places. All the usual ones are sucked up by evil tribute bands. If you provide entertainment, the people will come...only not
tonight they won’t. Well, it was worth a try. Most of the expected audience are at a private party and free gig elsewhere, but
there’s enough to have fun. Once again, Dogshit’s gorilla suit and a ripping set ensure a good atmosphere. The owner of
the pub is complaining it’s too loud. Shame. She complains more, but I tell her can’t hear her, it’s too loud! After a few hours
sleep it’s off to catch the return ferry home.
And that’s it. Lemmy’s warts ‘n’ all. The Ramones sang "Touring touring, it’s never boring". Falsehood! Sitting around for
hours is mind numbing if you’re not watching videos in your luxury tour bus or hotel suite. But who would want to be in a
band and not tour? Only an arsehole. Brezhnev maybe didn’t make vast amounts of money, but they made new recruits
and friends. If you wanna be in a rock ‘n roll band you gotta wake up and smell the stink of an unwashed sleeping bag, sell
your soul for £8 and don’t believe everything you see on MTV. Despite a driver with a death wish, crappy weather, many
shit support bands and even war...this tour was superb. Three months later and I’m still getting letters saying so, and asking
when they’re coming back. Motor’s rancid sleeping bag and all.
Paul Raggity.