California Dreamin’ – A Rock ‘n’ Roll Road Trip – October 2017 (Part Three)

California Dreamin’ – A Rock ‘n’ Roll Road Trip – October 2017 (Part Three)

Day 3 – San Francisco: seafood and drinking with the locals

The ride from the airport to Fisherman’s Wharf takes maybe 40 minutes. Packed like sardines, our taxi is full, there is no air con and it’s what you might call uncomfortable. We travel through some pretty rough looking areas, as we spy hammered bums staggering through the streets clutching their worldly belongings in one hand and a brown paper bag with god only knows what in the other. Groups of Hispanics and Africans hang on street corners, pimps, drug dealers or maybe even worse. Holy crap! Is this San Francisco? I don’t want to be staying here.

Luckily, our hotel is situated just off the much nicer Fisherman’s Wharf and we waste no time exploring the tourist areas. Bars, shacks and shops offer everything from the exotic to the less so exotic. Shops sell high class art, others sell tacky tat, some a combination of both. If you love seafood this is the place to be, its everywhere and it all looks and smells amazing. From fresh lobster and crab to bread bowls of clam chowder, it’s a seafood lover’s dream.

After eating, we stray from the tourist area and find an Irish bar for beer, whiskey and local company. We get talking to a regular; Phil, a self-confessed alcoholic  who loves to talk, oh how he loves to talk! He repeats himself with stories of hunting, his kids and the local area. I get stuck with him and Sedd a couple of locals, one with a strong NY accent. The alcohol and the conversation flows and by the end of the evening Paisley Park now seems a long, long’ time ago.

 

Day 4 – Bikes, bums and glorious sea views

 

As this is a rock ‘n’ roll road trip the plan was to catch as many bands as we could on our travels. After weeks of searching listings, it seems that anyone we wanted to see either had just played or were playing after we left, so we decided San Fransico would be the full-on tourist trip.

Today, as part of our holiday package we have electric bikes hired for a day of exploration. This I would highly recommend if you are coming to San Francisco for the first time. We plan a route that took us through Haight-Ashbury, the centre of the 60’s hippie movement, down through lush green parks, over sandy beaches and through dense forestry and over a coastal path to the Golden Gate Bridge.

 

Thank god for electric bikes! The steep roads are unforgiving and the journey up and over to Haights-Ashbury is a long one that takes in the sights and sounds of the city in a way you just cannot experience by taxi or tram.

What we didn’t take into account was that it was Sunday morning and most of the shops in Haights-Ashbury are shut! The thrift stores, tattoo shops and even the world famous Ben & Jerry’s ice cream parlour are not open yet. But the bohemian vibe is omnipresent. Bums and aging hippies still shuffle about minding their own business, as the morning Californian sun rises above the buildings. At the street junctions, you can get great views down over the vast city and take in the magnitude of the bustling city that seems to be in a time warp. I don’t think much has changed here since the 60’s. Not much development, take away the modern cars and many areas could still be a scene from ‘Bullitt’

The homeless here are seemingly invisible to passers-by. As we stop at a park entrance to take pictures, one guy in his twenties with a massive beard and his entire belongings (including an ancient skateboard) in a bag over his shoulder, shuffles past. Sedd greets him with a “Hey!, how ya Doing?”, he walks past us with no reply. As we walk across the road he turns and asks us what we wanted, seemingly puzzled, maybe even fearful that someone actually interacted with him.

Further along the street, another guy in a massive parker (bearing in mind its probably 25 degrees by now) has his filthy jeans half-mast, the legs of the jeans flapping around on the floor. A weird fashion statement maybe, I then realised these jeans were actually acting as his shoes!

 

We rode through Golden Gate park, a 1000 acre public park that stretches from Haights- Ashbury down to the coast. If museums and Japanese tea gardens are your thing, spend time here. It’s a massive relief that it’s all downhill from here and freewheeling not only cools us down but gives a break from the peddling. We check out the Dutch windmills before heading along the coast with stunning views of the pacific to our left, before reaching the Camera Obscura, it’s not even open yet as its still only 10.40am and we have already done so much.

The chain has come off my bike and become jammed. With no tools and my hands now covered in oil, a passer-by cyclist offers some help. Our new elderly friend Bob is a local, who cycles this coastal road every weekend. He offers to cycle with us and basically, he becomes a free tour guide as he takes the best route through the various coastal paths towards the Golden Gate Bridge, giving us information and facts as we go.

Cycling across Golden Gate Bridge is an experience in itself. It’s a free for all as tourists with various cycling ability wobble about trying to check out the views, take pictures and not crash into each other or the irate professional local cyclists who zoom past, shouting at Japanese tourists to get out of the way. We cycle onto Sausalito for lunch and ice cream. We check out the rock balancing guy Bill Dan before catching the ferry back to San Francisco.

After a well-needed chill at the hotel, we head out to explore China Town for the evening. After walking for seemingly miles and not really finding anywhere to eat, a quick look on Trip Advisor, we find a cool little restaurant right on the edge of China Town where I have the best Chinese meal I have ever had.

We walk back through the streets of sleazy clubs and topless bars. We find a tiny Blues club, like a sort of Speakeasy, where older guys who never made it play endless jams of the same song, probably on a daily basis. One beer is quite enough and after a full day cycling, we are ready to drop.

 

Day 5 – Escape from Alcatraz to Lost Boys territory, Monterey and beyond

 

Our last half day in San Francisco starts with a visit to the world famous windy road of Lombard Street before catching the ferry to Alcatraz. The audio tour is great, with the headphones on a heavily accented gentleman leads you through the gloomy penitentiary step by step. Real accounts from past inmates and wardens as well as background noise and effects really take you back to those times, as they recount stories and breakout attempts, the murders and the rigours of daily life in the once escape-proof prison on a rock in San Francisco Bay.

I love San Francisco and am sad to leave so soon to be honest. The roads are busy and parking is ridiculous, the best way to explore is definitely by bike. But you should also take a tram grab a bowl of clam chowder and take a pocket full of quarters to spend in the Mechanical Museum. I think I could live here.

 

We get an Uber to the airport to pick up a silver convertible Ford Mustang that will be our transport for the rest of the trip! We say our goodbyes to San Francisco as we take the Pacific Highway down towards Monterey for the next part of our adventure.

The stunning scenery and coastal views as we drive, just put in mind the game Grand Theft Auto, if you have ever played San Andreas then you will know why. As we reach Santa Cruz, we head to Santa Cruz Boardwalk where they filmed the classic opening scenes from The Lost Boys. With it being out of season, the amusement park and roller coaster are closed, which at first is disappointing, but we are still able to walk through it and take photos. The desolate nature seems quite fitting as the sun sets in the sky behind the seemingly abandoned roller coaster.

Remember the scene where they hang from the bridge and taunt Michael to join them?  That railroad bridge is right there, behind the amusement park! We go and stand on it for photos like a real couple of fanboys. Is the car park to the left where they did that first kill on the security guard? it sure looks like it.

As we head back to the car, I see something moving in the bushes, I get closer to check out what I presume is a butterfly, to see a real live hummingbird! No one told me they were here in the wild for all to see, that was unexpected.

As the sun sets over the coastal views on the Pacific Highway drive to Monterey, again GTA flashbacks fill my mind as they will time and again on this trip. Every now and again, I get the urge to grab the wheel, veer off the highway and drive across the acres of farmland looking for hidden adventures. But I don’t, this is real life, not a game, this is the larger than life reality of California and we are finally living it.

We reach the hotel, drop our bags and find a local seafood restaurant where we dine on crab curry and exotic tasting cocktails.

 

Day 6 – Trippy jellyfish, the white sands of Carmel and LA baby!

 

There’s not much rock ‘n’ rolling to be done in Monterey, so it’s another tourist morning before heading down towards LA. After tucking into the biggest omelette I have ever seen while watching cormorants dive for their own breakfast in the crystal clear waters of Monterey Bay, we head over to the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Although expensive, it’s well worth a visit. Massive tanks take you to the underwater world in the largest Aquarium in the world. The jellyfish room is out of this world as crazy-colored, alien looking creatures you never knew existed bob about in front of your eyes. Hypnotising and quite trippy, it’s better than TV!

We find a second-hand record store to grab a bunch of random CDs for the road trip down to LA and onto Vegas. Our soundtrack will now be a mix of The Eagles, The Byrds, Tom Petty, Sheryl Crowe and Prince & The NPG.

We do the 17-mile drive which goes through the famous Pebble Beach golf course, with windy roads, through dense forestry with plenty of vista points to take in the stunning, picturesque views that no camera can truly capture.

The next stop is Carmel, where the sun beats down on amazing white, sandy beaches that stretch for miles. Duran Duran probably filmed a video here back in the 80’s no doubt. This small, coastal town has a completely different vibe to San Francisco. Chilled and relaxed, the cars, the building and the people tell me there is a lot of money in Carmel. Ye Olde English style shops are hidden amongst the coffee shops and restaurants and overpriced boutiques.

We grab a bite to eat and head back on the highway for LA.

 

It’s close to midnight by the time we drive up Sunset Boulevard towards the hotel. The strip is teaming with life, does it ever sleep I wonder? Too late and too tired to explore, the most we manage is a beer at a western themed bar across the road, where a dude dressed as a cowboy asks us for ID. Inside, drunken middle-aged men perform karaoke to a room packed with students and middle-aged couples, served by the beautiful people behind the round bar in the center. In the corner, a bucking bronco is in full swing, a group watch and laugh as a guy tries his best to hang on time and again. Welcome to LA!

Author : Ben Hughes

 

California Dreamin’ – A Rock ‘n’ Roll Road Trip – October 2017 (Part Two)

California Dreamin’ – A Rock ‘n’ Roll Road Trip – October 2017 (Part Two)

Day 2 (A Trip To Paisley Park)

This is where the whole idea of our road trip began and why we have travelled to the much cooler climate of Minneapolis before heading over to sunny California. Sorry residents of Minneapolis, but if it wasn’t for Prince we would not have even thought to come to see your city on this trip. We have come on a musical pilgrimage to connect, to gain some sort of higher understanding.  To see and to draw in the energy of the space where Prince created his whole musical world, this seemingly unreachable place (to us UK residents anyway), this Mecca, where he lived and where he ultimately died.

We don’t really know what to expect. During the 30-minute car journey, we both agree that we are expecting it to be an unprofessional setup. Very probably a badly organised and rushed exhibition, with a tour guide who probably isn’t even a fan. This is what we were prepared for and that was fine the experience, we were hoping, was going to be enough to satisfy our needs.

Paisley Park is situated on what looks to be nothing more than an industrial estate, so much so I expect to see a Screwfix around every bend. You can see the building as you approach from the highway. The large, angular and quite plain looking white building, built back in 1986, is not hidden away as you would expect the reclusive singer to have it.

 

No phones or cameras are allowed inside the Paisley Park complex. No filming or touching of the items on display is allowed. And that is the way it should be, it keeps the experience intimate and very personal, just the way I imagine he would have wanted it.

We booked a VIP tour, it was expensive, but fuck it, how often will I get to do something like this? This is what this trip is all about, all or nothing, when in Rome and all that! There are 12 people in our group and our tour guide is way more knowledgeable than we could have imagined. Straight from the off you can tell this is the real deal, informative and interesting, the guides know their shit, and the people at Paisley Park know how to put together a tour.

We are led to The Atrium, the entrance hall to Paisley Park. There is an ornate marble floor, in the centre, the iconic Love symbol, where our guide informs us is the spot where he recorded famous interviews with Oprah and Mel B (YouTube it). Above to our right is a balcony where his pet doves are housed in cages. Directly above us, a miniature replica of Paisley Park which contains Prince’s remains. We are given a minute of silence to pay our respects, deep in our own thoughts. And if that experience doesn’t move you emotionally and spiritually, then nothing will. It’s already the trippiest day of my life and we haven’t even got going yet.

 

We are then given some time to explore the various rooms that lead off from The Atrium. From here there are several rooms themed to different eras of Prince’s career. From ‘Dirty Mind’ and ‘Controversy’ with his original Madcat Telecaster, lyric sheets and demo cassettes on display, onto stage costumes from ‘Lovesexy’ and ‘Sign O The Times’ Tours. Although some rooms have been themed, many have been left just as they were the day he died. In his office, papers and lyric sheets are scattered on the desks and a suitcase sits by his desk, as if awaiting their owners return, this just seems to bring home how real this all is.

There’s a video editing suite with a sofa, where he would sit with dancers and watch hours upon hours of concert footage, improving the routines and the shows, ironing out the errors. A kitchen area with a TV where he would sit and watch basketball matches.

 

We are then led through a rabbit warren of various studios and soundspaces, every one ‘wired for sound’. This guided tour includes a photo opportunity next to the piano from his final ‘Piano & a Microphone’ Tour, next to it, one of his blue cloud guitars. Even cooler, while we wait for everyone to take their turn doing photos, we get to play table tennis on the actual table Prince used in his own precious down time. Even the ping pong balls have the Love symbol logo on.

In this large, wooden floored main recording studio, behind glass we peer at the mixing desk, all equipment just as he left it, down to the iconic Lynn drum machine that he used to get that signature sound from ‘1999’ until ‘Sign O’ The Times’. In this very room he recorded ‘Diamonds & Pearls’ and ‘Lovesexy’. The songs that have been recorded in this room, the legends that have joined him here, if only these walls could talk…

We learn he was recording a jazz album at the time of his death to be released on Blue Note Records. We then get the opportunity to hear one of the unreleased tracks from it, an instrumental. While listening through massive studio speakers, we get to take it the reality that the last thing he did before he died was to play and record in this very room.

 

The Purple Rain room is situated in what used to be the dance rehearsal studio, where he would choreograph and perfect the dance routines for hours and hours before each tour. The wall of mirrors is still there and the rails where the curtains once hung still visible. Here is housed the iconic artifacts from the 1984 film. The purple Honda motorbike, the white cloud guitar and the purple jacket from the film’s finale. We stare, we process and try and capture these images in our memories for eternity.

The corridors leading off are adorned with murals and paintings commissioned by the man himself, all left exactly as they were when Paisley Park was a working studio. We walk past his awards, there’s the Grammys, the MTV Music Awards and the Brit awards, all housed behind glass and all out on display. Through a window can be seen his beloved tour bus from the 90’s, parked up and covered in leaves. Probably not moved for years, forgotten like some ancient relic that has not yet been assigned to the rock ‘n’ roll graveyard.

 

We are then led into what is the grand finale, so to speak. The main soundstage, the room where Prince held many gigs and events. The ‘Rave Unto The Year 2000’ concert DVD was filmed here, as well as many of his promo videos. In this room, on several raised stages are more stage costumes and guitars from the last 10 years of his life. The matching suits and Stratocasters from the ‘Musicology’ period, including the red suit and strat he played at the Monterey Jazz Festival, it’s all here. Even two of the cars he could regularly be seen driving around town are parked in here, a purple Plymouth Prowler and a sky blue Bentley Continental, it truly is a fanboys wet dream and I freakin’ love it all!

Leading from this is the nightclub where Prince hosted parties well into the night. We are led to one of the private seating areas and our host tells us stories of how he would sometimes appear from the stairs behind and how he would get up and DJ and sometimes he would invite people to go watch a movie with him at the local cinema.

 

You could spend a small fortune in the merch shop, I went for a mug and a set of plectrums, Sedd bought a baseball shirt and an NPG pin. We learn from our guide that there is an underpass across the road where fans have adorned the walls with messages and tributes in graffiti. We have enough time to go in search. This Mecca, seemingly hidden from the world, is a secret place to go and think, contemplate or grieve, take photos or simply just read the messages of love from fans. Someone has even left a marker so you can add to the tributes…we do.

 

It’s the perfect end to an experience that exceeded all expectations, and even if the plane goes down on our flight to San Francisco later today, I will raise a smile and think to myself “yeah, it was all worth it”. Although it’s goodbye to Paisley Park and Minneapolis, there will always be a piece of it in my heart now. Our brothers would have loved this, goodbye Minneapolis…hello San Francisco!

 

Author: Ben Hughes

He Who Cannot Be Named/The Hip Priests – Leeds, Brudenell Social Club – 10th November 2018

He Who Cannot Be Named/The Hip Priests – Leeds, Brudenell Social Club – 10th November 2018

Ben Hughes

Now here’s a crackin’ combo if ever I saw one. Dwarves guitarist He Who Cannot Be Named and our very own punk rock faves The Hip Priests joining forces for a string of UK shows. A trip to the Brudenell in Leeds was a given for me, The Hip Priests were mighty with Thee Hypnotics earlier this year and He Who Cannot Be Named…well, how can you not be intrigued by a guy who wears just a ski mask and a codpiece on stage? I can’t wait to battle through the punk rock hordes to the front for a magnificent hot and sweaty punk rock show.

 

Hang fire a minute! Have I got the wrong night or even the wrong venue? There’s some shite indie band called 77:78 on in the main room and this show is in the Community Room tonight. Ok, I’ve seen bands in there before, it’s not the same atmosphere, more of a school gym feel, but hey ho…let’s go!

It’s 8.30pm, The Hip Priests are due on and there is nobody here, literally nobody! What the hell Leeds, is there some other show going on I don’t know about?

They give it 15 minutes before cracking on as the Spasm Gang Leeds massive finally filter in, 25 people at a stretch and it doesn’t get any busier for the whole night. If this was York, I could understand it, but Jesus, this is Leeds! We are in the heart of studentville with the Uni just around the corner and the bar next door is jam-packed with alternative looking dudes and dudettes who seem none the wiser about some punk rock show going on next door.

 

Zero fucks are given by The Hip Priests, they play a blinder anyways. From the opening salvo of ‘Livin’ Breathin’ Lightning’ and ‘Instant Delinquent’ to the closing ‘Sonic Reproducer,’ they deliver 40 minutes of high octane rock ‘n’ roll with all the thrills and spills you could desire.

The black denim clad brothers, led by panda eyed singer Nathan Von Cruz, blast their way through a selection of 7 inch singles and choice album cuts from their very strong back catalogue of Stooges/Hellacopters influenced rock ‘n’ roll.

To Von Cruz’s left, bassist Lee Love keeps the low end tight and guitarist Silent Mike keeps the riffs coming, giving Austin Rocket the freedom to pull all the rock guitarist shapes he can muster stage right. With his back arched and his guitar pointed to the stars, he peels off sonically powered licks and wah-wah induced solos on the likes of ‘MF Superior’.

With chanting choruses aplenty, the likes of ‘Jesus Died So We Could Ride’, ‘Sha Na Na Na Nihilist’ and latest single ‘Cheers To Me’ would make even the most staid of observers nod their heads and sing along.

The Hip Priests look and sound fantastic, and with more than a handful of glorious anthems to get high and get wasted to, can you really deny them their claim to be “the best band on shit island”?

 

When you come on stage with nothing but a studded leather codpiece, a Mexican wrestler mask and an arsenal of quirky punk rock anthems such as ‘Getting Pissed’ and ‘Duct Tape Love’, the chances are you will not fail to entertain. And Dwarves guitar slinger He Who Cannot Be Named does just that, with the help of a very tight band.

Running through his solo back catalogue and a few Dwarves songs for good measure, the band veer between catchy Ramones styled goodness and fast as fuck hardcore. They even chuck in a fantastic cover of ‘Commando’ for good measure. Rarely have songs about drinking, fucking things and killing things sounded so uplifting!

While HWCBN handles lead vocals, quirky moves and switching between two battered road worn guitars, its bassist Bobby Wilcox who takes center stage and does most of the talking. With his bass hanging from his knees and sporting a Ramones shirt, he looks and plays the part to perfection. To his side, Keith Mueller plays the leads and Eric Borst seems to be having the time of his life bashing away on them skins behind them, what a drummer!

Talking of behinds, the drummer wasn’t the only one to get an eyeful of bare punk rock arse. The moment HWCBN bends over to change his amp settings will be embedded in my mind for some time. Let’s just say that codpiece was a little on the loose side. Unfortunately, you can’t un-see some things!

‘I Eat Babies’ sounds amazing, pure pop-punk goodness, and there’s plenty of “oi oi” style chanters thrown in for good measure. ‘Good Problem’ from the newly released album ‘The Good, The Bad and the Brutal’ is instant and fits the set perfectly.

To be honest, He Who Cannot Be Named were the most entertaining band whose songs I don’t really know, that I have seen in a long time (if you catch my drift?).

 

The Leeds punk massive may have stayed at home, but the faithful few were treated to two great bands tonight that truly deserved a bigger crowd. I just hope the crowds are bigger for the rest of the dates, as I don’t believe this is just a Northern thing, is it?

I am trying not to be too downhearted about gig attendances, but with disappointing turnouts at the last 4 gigs I have attended, it does make me worry about the future of underground music. I feel for the bands, I really do, it must be soul destroying playing to empty rooms, but the likes of The Hip Priests and He Who Cannot Be Named are consummate professionals and continue to play every show like its packed, and it’s up to all of us to continue supporting live music before the bands we love disappear for good.

 

Buy He Who Cannot Be Named Here

Buy The Hip Priests Here

Photos courtesy of Neil Vary Photography