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21. Garden

We spent a couple of days in Cambridge in 2015 for a gig at the Rathmore Club on Cherry Hinton Lane. Göran, Niklas and I were to meet with some people at the Cambridge University Botanic Gardens, not far from the Rathmore. The small group of specially invited people, from Germany, Italy, Holland, the USA and other parts of the UK, were all in Cambridge for the gig and had rented a coach for a tour of the town. So after breakfast we walked the kilometer or so to the Botanic Gardens, taking in the sights along the way, possibly including a Waitrose supermarket and definitely the iconic Flying Pig pub. We were a bit late, but not too much.

We approached the booth at the garden where a young woman sat selling tickets and Göran pulled out his credit card and asked nicely for three.

Park bench in the Botanic Garden, dedicated to RKB (Roger Keith “Syd” Barrett).

The woman enquired, “Are you with the group that’s just gone in?” to which Göran and I answered joyfully in unison, “Yes, that’s right”.

“Well, in that case I can’t let you in”, she replied.

“What? Why not?”, we asked, more than a little shocked.

“Because groups of more than ten people must be registered at least a week in advance“, she snapped.

“But there are only three of us!” we explained.

“You just told me you were part of that large group” said the gatekeeper. 

“No, no! We have absolutely nothing to do with them”, Göran insisted. “Look, we’re just three ordinary tourists on holiday who want to see the garden!”

“But you’ve already told me, so now I know you’re part of that group.”

“No, we’re really not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, we’re not!”

We argued back and forth with her for a few minutes, but it was a waste of time and in the end we gave it up. If she hadn’t asked us if we were part of a group, we wouldn’t have said anything, as it wasn’t relevant and in fact we were anyway not with them, just meeting them. We were planning on simply walking through the gardens, looking at the trees, flowers and a park bench or two and if we met up with the group, fine. If not, also fine. Instead we were forced to silly-walk away from the booth talking about Kafka and Monty Python. The whole thing was completely bizarre.

We walked around the outside of the garden and met the group at the other end as they were loading themselves onto the coach, joining them for the tour of Cambridge. Next stop: Grantchester Meadows. The group of thirteen had also been refused entry earlier because of the “more than ten” rule and had become frustrated and angry, as of course none of them were aware of the rule. Not even the organizer of the tour, born in and still living in Cambridge, knew of it. Finally they had paid for ten tickets and the remaining three had walked in without paying anything at all. That must have stung the irrascible gatekeeper, who probably spent the rest of the day asking visitors if they were part of a group and refusing them entry if they were. Thank you, Cambridge University Botanic Garden. It’s great to feel welcome!

https://open.spotify.com/track/3EbIvnhugoPe9xLI8HfYDE?si=bX33gYc_Ro285-Tsooc_xQ
This song is actually about the Cambridge University Botanic Garden.

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20. Out Of Africa

This song from A Padded Room is a bunch of in-jokes which I thought I would “out” and explain. The story goes like this: in 2009, Tuckers Lilla Kapell went to South Africa to play a bunch of gigs over a couple of weeks, mostly together with great South African band The Hip Replacements (you can still dance with a replacement hip). The gigs were in Johannesburg, Cape Town and the tiny village of Nieu Bethesda, which is right out in the middle of the semi-desert, the Great Karoo.

Cover art A Padded Room

After flying from Johannesburg, we rented a van in Port Elizabeth by the coast and drove 400 km north to Nieu Bethesda, where there were, I was told, 69 inhabitants. Almost all of them are artists (painters, sculptors), writers and musicians. A proper artist commune. The 69 didn’t include the black township, which was “over there”, on the other side of an area of sand and rocks. I asked Herb if there were any lions in the Great Karoo, and of course he replied: “There are no lions in the Great Karoo!” On the other hand, when we talked about that earlier this year, he’s not so sure any more.

We played at The Bat Barn, which not surprisingly used to be a barn many years ago, but is now owned by Dr. Jonathan Handley, whose day job is anaesthetist and night job prolific songwriter, guitarist, cartoonist etc. He has many strings on his Gibson SG. “The Bat Barn’s haunted by the Callahan ghost” is a reference to one of my favorite Tuckers songs: The Ghost of Callahan. Jonathan had invited the whole village to the Tuckers gig at the Bat Barn, with a braai (the South African equivalent of a grill-party) afterwards. Most of them came, so the place was full and there were even plenty of kids around. Outdoors by the grill, the stars were stunning to see in the night sky – thicker than a bluegum grows.

Owls in The Owl House

Also in Nieu Bethesda is The Owl House, a museum of animal statues (around 300 of them, including many owls, camels and peacocks) made by artist Helen Martins. The house itself is quite weird and decorated with crushed coloured glass on doors and walls. Constant exposure over many years to all that glass powder which she crushed herself, finally made Martins so ill that in 1976 she took her own life, aged 78. I called it the “house of glass”.

“Dizzy heights” and “spaceship lands” are references to Jonathan’s song ZX-Dan, which was a big hit for the Radio Rats in 1978 and is still heard on the radio now and again in South Africa. “The Brandy flows…”: national drink: brandy and coke and it’s only ever a short while to the next one.

You can find the lyrics here: https://www.musixmatch.com/lyri…/A-Padded-Room/Out-of-Africa
And the song can be found on Spotify, iTunes etc.

Breaking news: Tuckers Lilla Kapell are playing tomorrow (Saturday 22nd December, 2018), at The Church in Sandviken, Sweden. Free entry! Come early! Stay late!

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19. Once in a lifetime

When the First Cab album “Little Pieces” was about to be released in 1985, we did a record label showcase concert in Stockholm at the Orion Theatre, together with stablemates Imperiet and Docenterna. First Cab were at the bottom of the bill and Imperiet at the top. Which puts Docenterna, hmm, firmly in the middle. We had borrowed an apartment from the record company for a couple of nights and the evening before the concert went out to celebrate the album release and the upcoming concert, which was perhaps the biggest gig we had done at that point and certainly the most important. The beer flowed freely during the evening and at least one of us threw up walking back to the apartment. Not naming any names, but I think it was the drummer. Initals BH.

We had to be at the venue by early afternoon for the soundcheck, and standing in the centre of that huge stage, pale-faced and shaking slightly, was not one of my proudest moments. We were all very tired and badly hungover and struggled through the soundcheck. Nobody was expecting any action from us and of course they didn’t get any. We simply played through a few songs and that was that. The concert was also to be filmed, adding to the stress, though the main focus for that was Imperiet.

Just before we went onstage, I was speaking to the label MD Peter, and asked him if I should talk in English or Swedish between the songs. “English” was the reply, so that’s what I did. The consequence of that was one of the daily newspapers (DN) in their concert review wondering why the First Cab singer spoke in “bad English” between the songs. What? My English isn’t that bad! I’ve always suspected that in fact it was his English that was crap and he simply didn’t understand what I was saying.

But we weren’t as active onstage as we normally would have been. We didn’t have enough energy for that. So, although our gig was also filmed, no-one ever bothered to edit it for use in any way. Not worth the expense, most likely. There exists a video cassette (somewhere), taken from one of the three cameras which filmed the gig, the one placed right at the back of the venue. I haven’t seen the film for 30 years and to be honest I don’t have any great desire to see it either. In fact I watched a bit of it only once when I had it in my possession. The sound on the video cassette is from the microphone on that particular camera and though I can’t actually remember what it sounded like, it had to be substandard, with the whole length of the venue between us and the microphone. We were a good live band – sometimes very good – which is how we got the record deal in the first place. We had the opportunity to make an impression on a crowd of two thousand in a classic Stockholm venue with all the major newspapers there to see it, but we lost it in a cloud of alcoholic fumes. I can’t even blame it on being young and stupid, as I was 31 at the time.

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18. Baby Lemonade

Baby Lemonade, by Syd Barrett.

Last weekend I was in Russia for a couple of gigs, in St. Petersburg. When I was first asked I had some doubts, but I went along with it. The visa application process was not fun, there was plenty to do and it took a few weeks, what with chopping and changing the dates, but got done in the end. Finally, for various reasons I ended up travelling on my own, which was also a source of anxiety, though I’ve travelled most of the world alone. But it was just because it was Russia; a typical cliché. Anyway, after getting through the various checkpoints at the airport I met up with Sergey, the driver I’d booked online. I had quite a conversation with him the evening before on Whats App, we exchanged selfies, but it turned out he couldn’t actually speak a word of English. Not that it mattered. Sign language worked and when we reached his car, he used his phone to translate spoken words to script. This was no backwater.

A 35 minute drive later we were at the Baby Lemonade Hostel. For those that don’t know their Syd Barrett, the hostel is named after one of Syd’s songs, the first song on his second solo album “Barrett”. All the rooms are different, newly renovated and each has an album theme. For example, Ziggy Stardust, See Emily Play, Lucy In the Sky with Diamonds, Abbey Road, Sgt. Pepper’s, Dark Side of the Moon etc. The Ziggy room was stunning, though they’re all good and all painted by artist Maria (Masha). And the desk in the reception area is a pink replica of Battersea power station in London (Pink Floyd’s “Animals”). The flying pig will be added in a week or so. Madcap, the owner of the hostel (and designer of all the rooms), is hoping for like-minded guests, meaning people interested in both good music and the philosophical mind-set from the 60s and 70s.

Reception room at the Baby Lemonade Hostel.

When I arrived “in the evening, sun going down”, the reception area was still a building site and we were supposed to play there the following day, but that ended up being postponed for two days. The Saturday night gig, though, was at a bar in a fairly large adjacent room. Between 50 and 100 guests were expected, but about 150 turned up, which filled the room. They were attentive, sat or stood through 90 minutes of music and thanked us afterwards with hugs and hand-shakes. I even got to sign a couple of arms.

I last visited St. Petersburg in 1993, when it was more or less a lawless city and run by the mafia. My travelling companion and I were instructed by the travel company to “dress down” if we went out, wear no jewelry or watches and keep a close eye out for pickpockets and the like. But now it feels like any big city, with the exception of the unique architecture and significant museums, which definitely need a visit. The Hermitage Museum, currently with an exhibition of Dutch masters (Gerrit Dou!) and the New Museum of Modern Art where there’s even a mini-exhibition of Annie Leibovitz photographs, are both well worth seeing. And the buildings themselves are works of art. I could easily have spent another couple of hours wandering around the Museum of Political History, but an Armenian lunch and the airport called.

In the last four or five years a new revolution has taken place in St Petersburg and the town is bouncing. According to Madcap, 30 or more bars and restaurants are opening (or closing) every month and there’s now quite a cool nightlife in this city of 6.5 million, if you count the sound of the suburbs. There’ll be a repeat visit for sure.