A big show in the Elysee Montmartre, an old theatre somewhere in this great mess of a city with about fifteen hundred punters expected. Petter is a little nervous, bless him, so I reminded him that all guitarists are show-offs at heart and that he shouldn't have any trouble, being as sickeningly talented as he is.
I've found the perfect use for my Wales scarf, when Jay isn't draping it over his amp in an act of patriotic fervour that is (I thought the surname Cavanagh would have given him Irish ancestry). Anyway, I employ the aforementioned kneckwear as a handy hassock, making the act of kneeling to gaffer cables and pedals to the stage a far less arduous experience.
I write this on a laptop kindly loaned to me by our driver so posts should be a little more frequent for the rest of the tour. Cheers Tim.
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