In the summer of '99 Mumble & Peg (Erik, Jenya, and me) went on tour for five weeks in Europe, mostly Germany (as the record label hosting us was German). This was my first time in Europe, let alone touring there. But any excitement upon landing in Amsterdam was slowly dulled by a seemingly endless series of shitty drives to perform shitty shows. There was also a momentum-crushing 10 days off in Berlin during the tour. Let's talk about that.
We were supposed to be recording our next album during those 10 days for free at the label's own fancy studio. But we got bumped last minute because another band, In Extremo, had to produce an emergency remix of their cover of the Sisters of Mercy tune "This Corrosion," among other things. There was no back up plan - without much warning we were facing an unplanned, money-draining vacation.
The good news was Berlin is an interesting city to visit, especially back then - the wall had fallen only 10 years earlier. Also, by incredible coincidence, our Oakland pals Nils, Dawn, Dan, and Carla were also in Berlin at the time performing with Ink Boat. And by an even more incredible coincidence we bumped into Dawn in the street when we first got into town otherwise we'd have no idea how to find out where they were staying and performing. I know I sound like a broken record with these stories, but before cell phones life was more adventurous and dictated by chance.
The first few days were actually kinda fun. Saw the sights, went to the zoo, ate a lot of bratwurst mit Senf und Zweibeln. Our driver for the tour, Holger, wisely escaped to his home in Muenster during this time off but before he split he left us with a pro tip: doner kebap. So we consumed a lot of that as well (scharf, ohne Tomaten). We did meet up with our Oakland pals a couple times. We went to their performance, and they came to our one Berlin gig during this 10 day stretch. It was the worst show of the whole tour - we almost knew everybody in the audience by name. And despite that somebody stole Jenya's camera.
After four days we were bored and restless, and our hosts - Arne the label guy and his wife Gundula - didn't know what to do with us. We woke up on day five and over Frühstück discussed some plans. Jenya went to go check out some museums, while Erik and I were invited to go see a soccer match.
Seemed like a fun outing, but there was catch.. Arne's friend Pete was moving into a new apartment today which was on the way to the stadium, and we got roped into helping to carry a few things. We were told it would be quick and not up any stairs. We arrived finding ourselves facing more than a moving truck's worth of boxes and heavy furniture including a fridge and a washer still full of water. And Pete's new apartment was on the fifth floor. And between the truck and the building was a 100 yard walk through a large courtyard.
It was weird. We didn't know Pete - Erik and I were just these two strange Americans who magically appeared to help carry all his worldly possessions for no fee. There was a whole team of Pete's friends also there to help, but it still took us all about an hour to get all this shit upstairs. By the end my shirt was thoroughly soaked with sweat and my muscles were stiff and twitching. You're welcome, Pete.
After quenching our thirst with cappuccinos we headed to the stadium. Pre-game mayhem in the parking lot. Beer, bratwurst, singing, and showing off your team colors. It was Berlin vs. Bremen today. Met some more of Arne's friends before entering, including two Brits, Trevor and Spencer. Of COURSE they were named Trevor and Spencer. They wondered what the 'ell two Americans were doing at a blasted German soccer game. Good question. Inside the old-school stadium we hit our seats and the crowds were singing various songs. Erik and I pretended to sing along lest we appear on the jumbovision screen with our dumb-ass American mouths' shut and looking confused.
The crowd had songs and random actions for every anomalous event during the game. It wasn't much of a game, though. Berlin scored early, Bremen scored late. The crowd was dealt a disappointing tie, and 90 minutes later thousands of bummed Berliners sulked all the way back to their homes.
The next day we wore out our welcome on Arne and Gundula's floor, and instead went to crash on Torsten's floor for the last few days. Torsten was our booker. And he lived in Potsdam, which isn't really Berlin but close enough. I don't remember much about our stay there except more train riding and more sight seeing. And many many hours watching German MTV. Eventually the only joy was spending hours sitting at a cafe and watching pedestrians across the way step in huge piles of dog shit.
By the end of the 10 days we were completely demoralized and logy. We were then overjoyed when Holger finally appeared to take us away to our next gig in Halle. I don't think I touched my bass once (except for that crappy gig) during that whole stretch. At least the next show was one of the better ones of the tour, both in audience response and delicious dinner provided by the club. So we got our groove back, at least a little bit.
MIT Tomaten. 🤣
Also, I’m still so glad I went to the museum that day.