We left for Latvia without a care in the world, armed with only some sandwiches and a guide-book (and some warm clothes - word was this Latvia joint was going to be nippy; oh yes, and a guitar too). After an uneventful flight, we touched down in Riga to find that the following things were the case:
- we were now 2 hours ahead
- it was fucking cold
- this was a mild winter by their standards
- it was fucking cold
- the show in Lithuania, scheduled for Thursday, had been cancelled due to the promoter being a twunt
At this point, we need to digress briefly to explain about Louie Fontaine and Rockie Charles. When MD last played in Latvia, at the Cesis Fonofest last summer, we shared the bill with a band called Louie Fontaine and the Living Dead. They were kind of, well, insane in a European way, shall we say. Their drummer kind of looked like Rob Halford, and they featured two girls called Fontaine Palace (more on that later). He's been around for years, and in the past his acts have featured such props as a forklift with a giant penis on the front shooting flames. He is the undisputed champion of Latvian Rock'n'Roll. Jamie was quite the fan.
On this occasion, Louie was playing host to a man called Rockie Charles (right). He is, we were reliably and continually informed, the 'President Of Soul' (the concept of a soul election fills me with joy), as well as being a Tugboat Captain from New Orleans. He's an old style blues rocker. And he appears to have been kidnapped by Louie; he's been in the country since December last year and apparently still thinks he's in Canada. Oh well. Anyways, the whole point of all this is that Rockie and Louie were to be the middle act on the bill that night. Rockie played guitar and sang, with Louie on bass, the twins on back-ups, and sadly someone who was clearly not Rob Halford on drums. Before them was also a Latvian folky band led by my old friend Nimo on clarinet. (Some of you may remember nimo from the cover of MD single After The Rush Hour). They were pretty rocking also.
Then it was my turn to step up and rock the free world (see diagram, left). It was a cool turnout, and I thought I played well, while Jamie had fun selling CDs and handing out badges. I played for a good hour or so before leading the troops in a rousing chorus of Abbadom. Smiles all round. Afterwards, we hung out with Rockie and Louie at the venue for a while, before heading off to the hotel where Andzs works to steal some drinks from the bar and generally celebrate our presence in Latvia. It was all going so well.The problem that arose was this: we were joined by these two gentlemen, or more to the point, the bottle that they're holding. It's a drink called Rigas Melnais Balzams, or Balzams for short, and it's the national Latvian drink. We'd never tried it before, so it was enthusiastically given to us. The guidebook told us that "it has an alcohol content of 45% and contains wormwood, the substance that gives absinthe its kick". Or at least it would have done, if we'd read it before. No one thought to warn us about this, so we tucked in like the traditional English gents that we are. It did indeed have quite a kick, but we managed to put away three (European, i.e. 35ml) shots each before the fog descended. What happened next is subject to some debate, but I know the following for sure: I have a photo of Jamie's nuts on my phone (which technology and decency prevents me from putting up here), and we also have incontenstable evidence that Jamie did in fact remove his trousers and attempt to force himself on the huge Christmas tree in the centre of Riga's main square.
That's the end of part I folks. The fellowship were divided, the original plan (to maintain any shred of human dignity) had gone dangerously awry. What new adventures awaited our heroes? Find out by... clicking here!