Glasvegas grace the cover of NME magazine this week, with a full and frank interview in which they talk drugs, breakdowns, losing a member and crooning to goldfish. Subscribe to NME or get the digital issue.
The band recently wrapped up their Scottish tour and sent us an exclusive diary from their time on the road. Read Paul Donoghue on their unhealthy eating, drunken families and wardrobe malfunctions below.
For the first show of our tour we hit Orkney. After a slightly bumpy ferry journey (lots of Titanic quotes were made, someone was sick too) we were on the island. It's a beautiful place and I wish more bands would go there as the people are warm and welcoming and deserve more shows up there.
We were a little nervous before the soundcheck as we hadn't all played together much due to album Number Two still having the icing put on top of the amazing cake we've baked. The soundcheck dispelled any doubts though; it was mega. Our new recruit, Jonna, is fantastic. She plays amazing and looks even better, and we couldn't have asked for a more perfect fit. To quote a Glasgow term, "we've won a watch".
The gig went better than any of us could have expected. There was an amazing electricty from start to end, and the sound coming out the front was unbelievable. The new songs fitted in perfectly with the older ones, and I think all of us have grown in ability and confidence.
After the show we headed back to the hotel for some celebratory drinks with some of the people from the show. We met a guy who told us he could kick his own head. He proceeded to show us and the look on Jonna's face was priceless, I think she wondered what she has let herself in for. I also saw Rab leaving at 1:30am with a bottle of sambuca heading to a party. He looked like he'd had fun this morning.
The tour took us to Forres. The venue was in a middle of a holiday camp where the R.A.F. biathlon team practised, so straight away we thought someone was gonna get a bullet ricocheted into their arse. They weren't there so we were shitting it for nothing.
The stage was in a converted cowshed, but it was a great place. No scent of cow shit so it must have been well scrubbed for us. Before the show Rab sliced his finger on his razor which led to him having two pretty assistants helping him put a plaster over the gaping flesh wound that was underneath. We called for the cows' vet but he said he didn't need it.
That hiccup aside the show went amazing. Everyone chanting Jonna's name made sure she was well and truly part of the gang. Afterwards we had some friends on the bus for a few drinks, and there was an unfortunate dress malfunction when a girl got a photo took with Rab. We didn't notice it at the time but some eagle-eyed Facebook pervert spotted it after!
After a day off back home, we travelled through some breathtaking scenery to Oban. First stop was a fish and chip restaurant for some massive, healthy, cholesterol-packed Haddock and chips. A few pounds heavier, we made our way to the venue to get ready for the show. Getting ready consisted of most of the crew needing "something" out of the dressing room (in reality we'd managed to get the football on the TV). Funnily, none of them could remember what they came in for. This was especially suspicious as they were all full of Omega oils, supposed to help memory!
The show went by in a flash, every gig we play now gets more and more fluid as we get used to being onstage together. James almost hit the bouncer when he was swinging his rope light/mic lead round and round. That was the only shit-your-pants moment of the show.
After the show we went to a bar across the road and got about forty drinks bought for us by some of the people who were at the gig. We've got this free drink thing down to a fine art now! Thanks to everyone who said some amazing things to us that night, it meant a lot.
Next, we went from Oban to Dunoon, which looked as though we had just driven around the other side of the bay. They're both beautiful, but almost identical. We were out cold most of the day due to the night before getting a tad messy, but surfaced long enough to soundcheck and get dinner. After that I went for a shower in the venue. Not that interesting except you could have melted iron ore with the heat coming off the water. The only parts of me that didn't look like hellboy were around the perineum!
The show again felt like we were really hitting our stride, getting more confident and having more fun. James made the joke of singing "dunoon, dunoon" along to the pink panther theme song, which most people rolled their eyes at as they've probably heard that a million times before.
Afterwards we had to race to get the last ferry home. I thought we were going to have to phone ahead to ask them to leave a ramp and we'll just jump the last twenty feet, but alas, it was nothing as exciting.
Next up was Troon. We were all looking forward to this as some of our families and friends were making the trip through from Glasgow. We pulled up at the venue right next to the beach and had to shimmy the bus around a little so we could be facing the sea, not the piss-stained back entrance to the pub opposite (fucking divas). The view was amazing though.
After soundcheck we had an interview to do, made sure the portrait of Sean Connery we take on tour had pride of place in it, then had a couple of drinks. Jonna decided this was the time to bring up the question of whether or not my new trainers were real or fake, as the swoosh stops kind of abruptly (they ARE real by the way) There aren't many people who can leave me without a witty retort but she can. Smart little Swede. Brilliant and clever.
The show itself was the best yet, despite the fact there were about ten bottles lobbed onstage. We found out later most of them came from someone we knew from Glasgow. His excuse was that they were plastic. He was drunk and was a shit shot luckily. After the show we got a hotel bar for our friends and family and got super-drunk.
Here's to the next tour.
Read a full interview with Glasvegas in this week's NME