Hotel Pricey And The Staff Are Superb, Amsterdam.
Breakfast this morning with Joe alone. He was up at 05.30, his family sleeping on. My own night was light, waking at 00.35 with G3 parts continually running in my head for perhaps two hours. Now, practising & to pack.
Satriani Tourbus, en route to Lichtenvoorde; 14.41
12.30 Bag call.
13.00 Small bus ride to big bus.
13.28 Big bus departure following photos in front of our transient home of the next 5 weeks.
Onboard: Joe & Rubina & ZZ Satch, manager Mick Brigden, tour manager & second guitarist Galen Henson, bass player Matt Bisonette, Mr. Drummer - Jeff Campitelli, the Third G, plus Mr. Driver.
15.49 Yer tiz. The Arrow Festival. It is a Clear Channel gig.
Venue Of Terror With Tourbuses --
In my dressing room -- Junk Food With Fruit & Flowers: Still Life --
23.00 Satch Bus.
Yow! Yes are playing, the final act of today, as I diarise.
The Soundscape set was well received by the Satch band, although a significant proportion of the audience were brave enough to boo loudly. The maxim here is: when the audience boo, go for the bass end. A sound system this large is difficult to overcome, particularly when you get very very down there. I came offstage feeling stronger than walking on.
The end of Joe's set, and the G3 jam, were as bad as I could have imagined them to be. Actually, my contribution to Joe's tunes was worse than I could have imagined, and my contribution to the jam was as bad as I could have conceived, with some strong points inside it.
My minimal monitoring sound was astonishingly bad, as bad as anything I could imagine. For the Satch tunes, a small point: my effects unit was on bypass. That is, a hyper weedy sound seeped pitifully into the Satch mix until, with lots of twiddling, I discovered the source of utter feebleness in time for the jam. But at that point, with Steve onstage, a loud & undifferentiated sonic soup burbled & bubbled, with me in the midst. The sound was so bad that I was unable to determine either time or pitch, both of which are valuable when performing in public with others.
I came off, feeling ashamed, unable to look anyone in the eyes.
23.54 Well underway to Copenhagen.
Search Robert Fripp's diary archive.