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Europe Recap in Words and Pics
Le Blorr Europe Tour Recap
My body can almost taste sweet victory of laying softly in bed. My mind is already bringing its gears to a slow churn. The music in my head has finally cued its decrescendo. Our 1st Europe tour has come to an end. We played 12 dates in 14 days. We fell in love with Munich, had a crush on Brussels, were completely swept off our feet by Paris, and enjoyed a fiery week-long affair in the UK. One night we would be listening to psychedelic funk music with a 60 year old German host and the next we’d be drinking Belgium beer next to an 8 foot David Bowie mural, listening to Slayer in a metal bar in Brussels. We saw go-go dancers of the Reiperbahn in Hamburg turn off their blue lights to respect the coming of Easter. We marveled at the Louvre, shared wine under a sparkling Eiffel tower and played one of the best shows of our lives at the beautiful Bataclan in Paris. And fall madly for Paris we did. We got to play our lil bitty hearts out for over a thousand strangers every night. But each night we would sign autographs and take pictures with dozens of wide-eyed people. Bewildered as to why they would want this from a band as unknown as us. But people in Europe love music. You can feel it. They have no shame when they do either and that was refreshing coming from the sometimes ‘cold’ environment that is SXSW weeks prior. Now sitting on my final flight home to Florida, it is all a bit of a blur. An exhausting, exhilarating blur. I kept a tour journal throughout our adventures. So instead of trying to further elaborate on this magical blur that is spinning around my head I will insert a few snippets from some of the blog entries from our tour journal. If at all interested in the full scoops just scroll down and read away.
Paris
“Because it was the city of love I wanted to go out a minute before Hot Damm and Suga Butta and sing “Oh Christopher” to the Parisian crowd. To stand in front of all of them and have them embrace me the way they did was magical to me. I’m sure I didn’t sing every note perfectly and I’m sure they could see my hands shaking with the willies but it was the only way I could imagine starting a show in Paris and I felt them warm in my lil heart.”
England
England is a voluptuous woman bending back to sprawl herself across her yoga ball that is the earth…. Wild horses feed from the teet of her rolling pastures. Castle like cathedrals rise as beauty marks from her exposed body. Clouds loom just above her breasts, her hips and her thighs like the cold breath of kings deceased… An aged beaut she is laying there outstretched and comfortable… Oh and there sheep too! Fuckin sheep everywhere!
Leeds
“So I left the party early by myself from much needed sleep and found myself at the Butler Inn. It was an old dark brick house with vines wrapping their way around the decrepid sign. No lights were on outside or in. The door was locked. I knocked. Nothing. So I walked around to a side door. It creaked open. I crept slowly in. There was a bench with books that had more dust than pages. An old staircase led to a dark hallway that you couldn’t have payed me to walk down.
“uhh hellooo?”
Nothing. I walked around to a desk that had a box of keys to rooms. I was thinking “do I just grab a key and choose a room and hope I don’t get axe-murdered?”
Then I heard a voice from around the corner. In a thick British accent a woman was calling
“yes? Hello?”
And around the corner walked an older woman with a bed-head full of long white hair, wearing a cow-print body-suit snuggie. It covered her feet and zipped up to the neck. We just stared at each other blankly from across the dark hall. Both equally bewildered.”
Kohln
I walked out on stage and one dude was shouting “Cookie I love you. I love your hair and shirt and your vagina!” Then he started licking in between his fingers and deep-throating his finger. I was at first just surprised that they knew my name. And then even more surprised that this one lil fucker knew I had a golden vagina. So taken aback I was that without thinking I said “Yes my vagina is the best part.” Then I realized the mic was on and I was standing on stage in front of over a thousand people staring blankly up at me who had surely not heard this guy in the front row profess his love for my vagina. So yes… my first words to the lovely audience of the Kolhn Theatre were ….
“Yes my vagina is the best part…………. (about 5 seconds of silence)….well alright I’m Cookie, this is Hot Damm and that’s Suga Butta„, we are Le Blorr…. okay Kohln!”
Hamburg
“So we walk into the strip club and she starts dancing in front of us. Then after about 30 seconds she just stopped and that was it. We all kind of wondered what was going on. Why was the music so low? Why did the go-go dancers not go and go? The dancer replied…. “we have to stop now because Jesus died”
And so begun our Easter weekend in Europe.”
Maybe one of the coolest things for me each night was when people would ask us to come back. Or when they’d ask us when we were coming back and if we could come back to their town. We felt very welcomed… and that is beautiful.
Thank you Germany, Belgium, France, and the UK for exceeding all expectations we could have ever had.
luv,
Cookie
“Hey Sleep„ Let’s work things out”
Sometimes I truly believe Sleep is an ex-girlfriend from a past life that I must have wronged. I must have cheated on Sleep. (Perhaps I got caught having a “quickie” with her hot younger sister Nap?) That joke was stupid. But really I feel like no matter what I do to tempt sleep.. she gives me cold shoulder. Sometimes I try foreplay„ ya know a relaxing hot shower, a bit of chamomile tea and a lil reading… I mean at that point Sleep should be pretty fired up for that climactic first snore. But no. Nothing.
Leeds was on Sleep’s side. I was sick as a dog all day as we made our way to the Leeds O2 Acadamey. All of sleep’s lack of affection had finally caught up. It was a busy day too. We had 3 interviews in a row, one of which we watched the video from last night online and laughed our asses off at how stupid we all sound on camera„ Interviews are goofy. It was neat for sure but almost no way to not sound like a D-bag talking about yourself that much. Surprisingly, the show was one of the best we’ve had yet. Suga Butta has been dancing like a rabid kangaroo and I find myself looking at him and Hot Damm going so crazy together that I will just start laughing cause I’m so happy to be up there with them. (cue canned “ahhhh’s”)
After the show we did the usual„, gear, merch, pack. The hotel I booked was called “The Butler Inn”. But before I could sneak off our first interviewer (purdy York girl named Claire) convinced us to go to possibly the coolest/geekiest bar in history. Totally dedicated to Star Wars. There was a life-size Darth Maul, a frozen Hans Solo, and more memorabilia than could be healthy for one person to collect in one lifetime. Alas I managed to ninja out.
The drive to the hotel was cool. Winding around small roads until I found myself at the Butler Inn. It was an old dark brick house with vines wrapping their way around the decrepid sign. No lights were on outside or in. The door was locked. I knocked. Nothing. So I walked around to a side door. It creaked open. I crept slowly in. There was a bench with books that had more dust than pages. An old staircase led to a dark hallway that you couldn’t have payed me to walk down.
“uhh hellooo?”
Nothing. I walked around to a desk that had a box of keys to rooms. I was thinking “do I just grab a key and choose a room and hope I don’t get axe-murdered?”
Then I heard a voice from around the corner. In a thick British accent a woman was calling
“yes? Hello?”
And around the corner walked an older woman with a bed-head full of long white hair, wearing a cow-print body-suit snuggie. It covered her feet and zipped up to the neck. We just stared at each other blankly from across the dark hall. Both equally bewildered.
“Ummm I have a reservation?” I said.
She just stared blankly at me. “What?” And then she coughed and yawned at the same time.
“Ya I have a reservation under Hess? I booked it through Priceline?”
Her mouth still wide open. “Price what??? What is that?”
I knew I was in for a long night at that moment. So I explained what it was and that I had in fact booked the room. So through much yawning and smoker’s hacking she booked me a room and gave me a key. (Still in her cow-print onesie mind you) She told me to go up those dark stairs that I had noticed upon arrival, then to go up another set of stairs and room 9 would be at the end of the hall. I complimented her snuggie. She bid me goodnight and she was off to sleep.
At that point I realized that Adam and Zach would be coming home in a few hours from the bar to find a creepy Inn with a locked front door and no way of knowing what room I would be asleep in.
“Shit”
So I decided to venture back to the Star Wars bar to find them. There were only a few turns here and veer or two there so I figured I would be able to find my way back into town. Wrong. I drove around Leeds for a half hour in circles. It was a mess. I was ready to call it quits and sleep in the car until I saw Zack smoking a dirt outside the bar and yelled out the window to him “ZACH!!! SAVE ME!!!!” as I zipped by with traffic. He just threw his hands up and said “Are you kidding me?!?!” (It had been almost two hours since I had said goodbye to him. So…. next thing I knew, there I was at 3 a.m. in the f***king Star Wars bar again, chugging water, staring at Darth Maul and watching a group of local dudes head-banging to some terrible ‘Disturbed’ song. I thought to myself “sleep… you bitter wench you win again.” Though you wouldn’t expect it, I had a huge smile on my face.
-Cookie
My first words in Kolhn
Just finished our show in Manchester. I’m feeling a bit cloudy so I’ll share a short story from Germany that I forgot to tell… It took place in Kolhn, Germany in the beginning of our show….
When I walked out on stage there was a group of kids to my left. One girl shouted “Cookie I love your cool, surfer look!” And one dude was shouting “Cookie I love you. I love your hair and shirt and your vagina!” Then he started licking in between his fingers and deep-throating his finger. I was at first just surprised that they knew my name. And then even more surprised that this one lil fucker knew I had a golden vagina. So taken aback I was that without thinking I said “Yes my vagina is the best part.” Then I realized the mic was on and I was standing on stage in front of over a thousand people staring blankly up at me who had surely not heard this guy in the front row profess his love for my vagina. So yes… my first words to the lovely audience of the Kolhn Theatre were ….
“Yes my vagina is the best part…………. (about 5 seconds of silence)….well alright I’m Cookie, this is Hot Damm and that’s Suga Butta„, we are Le Blorr…. okay Kohln!” ……………………….. (And yup I just wrote vagina 5 times in one paragraph.) Vagina, vagina. 6,7…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..vagina! 8
-Cookie
England is in fact a lady…
England is a voluptuous woman bending back to sprawl herself across her yoga ball that is the earth…. Wild horses feed from the teet of her rolling pastures. Castle like cathedrals rise as beauty marks from her exposed body. Clouds loom just above her breasts, her hips and her thighs like the cold breath of kings deceased… An aged beaut she is laying there outstretched and comfortable… Oh and there sheep too! Fuckin sheep everywhere!
Along the drive from Nottingham to Glasgow
A day off in Paris
Go to Paris. Just go. I can’t describe it to you so I won’t try. I’ll just say that we squeezed every drop out of one day you could spend in that city. We walked for 6 hours from the “something something” to another epic “something something” and to another and then finally to the Louve (that I can at least pronounce). We ate snails in the park and ate bread and cheese off of our balcony that overlooked a cobblstone street. We walked to the Eiffel Tower at night and made a picnic in a field with a bottle of wine and some new friends and watched it sparkle on the hour. By the time we walked back to our hotel it was about 4 am. We awoke at 6 am to catch our train. A sad goodbye to Tony and Todd who were such an amazing part of our experience here. Not sure if I have ever felt so tired and so happy at the same time in my life. After my first time in Paris I can say that many of the wild stories, movies and fantasies we enjoy as humans come from someone spending a day in Paris.
I know pictures is what ya want. I bought a disposable camera and have been taking many with that but won’t be able to share those till I get home. Here are a few from my crappy phone camera that don’t do any of these moments justice…
“something something”
le metro
picnic with the best
Hamburg
Metal bar in Brussels (Bowie)
Berlin
Not sure what Gay “cruising” is but sounds rad
We followed our bliss and it led us to Paris
The Bataclan is a beautiful theatre in Paris. I am sitting in the dressing room upstairs over the stage and we just played what may have been the best show we’ve ever played. Maybe it was because we each drank beer along the sidewalk of an outside cafe next to the venue just before showtime. It may have been because the crowd was extremely welcoming to us and cheered louder than any crowd we have heard yet on this trip. Maybe it was cause along the walls are murals of old French men and women dancing. Having amazing friends like Tony and Todd here to help us so much is without a doubt a huge part of it. Perhaps its because we realized in the 20 minutes before stage just how lucky we really are to be playing our own music to over a 1,000 people in the most magical city in the world. Whatever exactly it was… we felt it. They felt it. It was there.
Because it was the city of love I wanted to go out a minute before Hot Damm and Suga Butta and sing “Oh Christopher” to the Parisian crowd. To stand in front of all of them and have them embrace me the way they did was magical to me. I’m sure I didn’t sing every note perfectly and I’m sure they could see my hands shaking with the willies but it was the only way I could imagine starting a show in Paris and I felt them warm in my lil heart. Hot Damm and Suga Butta came on stage as I was finishing and it was like a warm breeze drafting across stage making me feel at home there with them…. and we begun. Zach was all over the stage shimmying and shaking. Adam was an absolute mad man and I was overcome just watching them. It was all a bit of a blur from that point on but I think I smiled a lot .. a lot.
We packed our gear, cheers’d each other and watched the crowd sipping on red wine.
I’m a bit drunk and gushy I know… and for that I don’t apologize for tonight I will allow myself to be a sappy sap sap… That said I feel like I should say thanks. Not even sure to who…. but thanks to anyone that is here with us… know what I mean yo? You do.
Oeuvre,
Cookie
We are hungover in Hamburg
Adam just got out of bed and said “oh look we brought home leftover pizza we can drink.”
That should probably sum up how well last night went. Hamburg was amazing. From start to the very late finish. We walked around the city and visited a cathedral where an orchestra was practicing. We climbed a giant stone sculpture of some ancient ruler and smoked a joint next to a statue of Martin Luther. (which may seem wrong since he was a religious figure but if you think about it he was kind of a rebel bad ass himself. In fact I wouldn’t doubt it if one night he wasn’t trading bong hits with Mrs. Luther when he sat back in his lazy boy chair and thought “wait a second… one denomination?? PSHHHAAAAA!!!!)
The venue was called Markethalle. Like a mini colosseum, the crowd was eye level with us and very close which felt nice and intimate. In the beginning they were as cold as the biting wind that swept through the bell towers of those Hamburg cathedrals. But by the the third song they were with us. You could feel the sweat start to evaporate in the smoky air of those packed in Hamburgers (or maybe its Hamburgins?) The people of Hamburg were warming up. They were starting to smile, to wiggle, to scream when I raised my hands. So much so that we changed our set in the middle so that we could sing a love song (“Souvenir” (Have you seen her song) to them and dedicate it to them for being so nice to us. Despite it being daunting at first, I have to say it feels even better to win a crowd over… in 35 minutes they go from shouting in a German accent “Who the fuck are you?!?!” to “we want more! we want more!” (rock-on devil-horn hands included) Then its over and within 2 minutes you have to clear all of your gear off stage, make sure you don’t lose any of your wires, power, or instruments„, pack it neatly into an elevator and try to understand a stage hand who does not speak English trying to tell you where to take your gear so that it will not get stolen or forgotten. All while dripping sweat and still trying to catch your breath from playing your lil akey breaky heart out to 1,400 people who have never heard of you before.
I mention that because when you play for ppl that have heard of you or seen you before there is at least a pinch of calming confidence you have while playing. But when you know not one person out there is excited to see you because of what they have liked in the past or are expecting, there is an angst that makes you play twice as hard (not always a good thing) as normal because there is something in you that thinks if you let up for even a second you may lose any chance you have in gaining their allegiance. I find myself rocking out and doing these stupid dance moves just cause I am afraid of being still. Not that my normal dance moves aren’t stupid„, but they are my stupid dance moves and I feel right with them and don’t even realize I am doing them. But these nervous shakes make me laugh out loud when I catch myself… luckily I nipped that habit in the butt after the first show. (warning: any stupid dance moves you see from this point on are coming from a place of blacked out bliss and I will not take responsibility for them)
After the show we hung out at the merch table and I really enjoyed chatting it up with the peeps of Hamburg. Meanwhile Hot Damm and Suga Butta were taking shots with the AVA road crew and having a contest of who could kick the legs off of the plastic chairs while someone was sitting in them. (videos coming)
After all the gear was safely packed and we should have headed home for a good night’s sleep we instead went to the Reperbahn. The Reperbahn is like the Vegas of Hamburg. But… there are about as many “erotik clubs” in the Reperbahn as there are slot machines in Vegas. So in we went. Ironically enough we went out with the Save a Breast team that is also following the tour. Their motto is “I love boobies” and they are for the prevention of breast cancer. All really wonderful people. And in fact they do love boobies. So we get into the bar and one dancer starts dancing right in front of us. The music was turned really low so we awkwardly sat there looking at each other more than the naked Hamburger in front of us. Then she just stopped and that was it after about 30 seconds. We all kind of wondered what was going on. Why was the music so low? Why did the go-go dancers not go and go? In reply the dancer replied…. “we have to stop now because Jesus died”
And so begun our Easter weekend in Europe.
-Cookie