1 hire car, 5 days, 589 miles. Road Trip (featuring nightly returns home to feed the cats, have a hot chocolate and go to bed).
Tuesday: rehearsal, Edinburgh – doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things, other than bumping up the mileage, but it was the day Mister Harvey hired the car and therefore constitutes part of this week’s adventurings. It also provides an opportunity to describe Mister Harvey’s bewilderment, initial disappointment, and ultimate joy in his dealings with a hot-off-the line Peugeot 108. It has taken time to adjust to the absence of a tape deck in newer vehicles over recent years, but to be suddenly faced with the further absence of a CD player (or, indeed, a key) sent him into quite the flat spin. It took at least the first day to realise that the massive screen on the dashboard was touch sensitive – up to that point Mister Harvey had grown increasingly angry at his inability to listen to anything other than Tay FM by mashing at the only two (appropriate) knobs visible. When he finally inadvertently brushed the screen, he was violently dragged into a Neuromancer-style Cyberspace for which he had not received adequate training, and swiftly withdrew in a cold sweat. Upon investigation, however, an input jack socket was found – a 3.5mm silver lining. Given the recent departure of both Mister Harvey’s Ipod and his telephone, this gave rise to the rather lovely idea of raking through a shoebox full of unlabelled minidiscs of practices, gigs, sounds, conversations… all sorts of stuff that has lain untouched for a decade, and the sorting out of which has buzzed around the bottom end of Mister Harvey’s ‘to do’ list for as long. Over the remainder of the week, the miles ticked by under the sonic blanket of embryonic versions of early Leg songs, performances from across the Atlantic by Desc, a variety of string things, and – thankfully – one of the worst performances Mister Harvey has ever had the misfortune to be a part of, and which was only tolerable due to his making a covert recording of it. From then on, Mister Harvey’s little Pug 108 became a button-started time machine and he developed a great affection for it.
Wednesday: ‘I love you, middle of the week. I love…’, the day on which The Leg ventured to deepest, darkest Broxburn to join Dominic Waxing Lyrical (whose new album Woodland Casual is excellent) at the Green Tree – the day’s stop off on their five-date barge-based linear tour of the Union Canal. In the absence of much in the way of audience (there was in fact just the one audient, who dutifully came upstairs for both performances, but had a thoroughly good time), the Leg enjoyed a pretty much private performance which swept them back fifteen years to a time when the times weren’t even the times yet. Dominic as physically and vocally electrifying as ever, and a shit-hot-tighty-tighty band.
Thursday: St Machar’s Cathedral, Aberdeen – with Best Girl Athlete, whose album Carve Every Word has rightfully been receiving lavish praise (in spite of Mister Harvey’s string arrangements). An evening spent in the gentlemanly company of Mister CS Buchan and his most talented of daughters, Ms Katie Buchan (the athlete herself, taking to the stage on the very day of her 16th Birthday), along with the liquid fingers of Chemical Callum on the cathedral’s in house Boesendorfer. Mood of Collapse has proffered forth a review of this magical evening, describing it as ‘something pretty special’, and recalling the presence of, amongst other things, ‘some embarrising poo stories’ and ‘incredible cello solos’. Mister Harvey was not singularly responsible for both.
Friday: Wee Red Bar, Edinburgh – the Leg support the noise machine that is Carla Bozulich, in the UK for just three headline gigs with Don the Tiger, having finished their support tour with Godspeed! You Black Emperor the night before in Paris. Mister Harvey was delighted to be invited to play a song with them, alongside Atzi from co-support slotters and chums Lipsync for a Lullaby.
Saturday: Pipe Factory, Glasgow with Best Girl Athlete. A long wait on a street corner in the Barras was blessed with sunshine rather than the usual rain, making the wait for the key slightly more pleasant than the horror it could have been. Finally granted admission half an hour before doors, a swift set-up commenced. The space was excellent, but rapid onset illness in our noble athlete took the gig in an unexpected direction when she was forced to leave the stage, demanding a high level of audience participation in order to continue – which was impressively, enthusiastically granted. Only half of the original line-up remained (in the form of Chemical Callum and Mister Harvey), forming a backing band for a number of interesting performances. Not much of the proposed BGA set-list made it into the gig. Indeed, it was a song about an allergy to semen, rather than the usual ‘Hills’ which folk were humming as they left. Get well soon, Katie – and always rest assured that your set is in safe hands when you are forced to leave it in the charge of others. In a sightly surreal twist, we were treated to a number of tunes by Katherine Joseph on the hired piano during the clear-up. Another delightful private performance to round the week off.