From Bill Payne
(see Bill's Photos of Norway at the bottom of this BLOG)
The plane was a two engine prop, no bathroom, a smattering of food, and was scheduled to take two hour and fifteen minutes or more depending on the head winds. Two hours?! No bathroom! Ooooookay.
I was reminded of a bus ride the band took two tours ago in Europe. We had landed in Naples, drove to Salerno (some here in the room think it was Sorrento, any takers?), following the show we jumped on a bus for a rousing ten to twelve hour ride just north of Milan, Italy. No beds, no bathroom a driver who spoke zero English. Ah, welcome to Europe.
I’m back stage in Pori, Finland with Fred and Patricia, Nesto (who is suffering from a bad tooth), Dave Miller, Scott Harder, and Sam Clayton. The aforementioned bus ride took place a few years ago, nobody can really remember where we were in Italy—which is exactly how it goes when you travel as much as we do…you say Sorrento….I say Salerno…let’s call the whole thing off.
Back to the plane ride, I was intent on diving into a book that Gary Bays, my wife’s cousin, gave me to read this tour, Steve Martin’s, “Born Standing Up,” and that it would keep my mind off the circumstances. On the other hand, I thought, if I have to pee I’ll grab a cup of some kind and let it flow. No worries mate, the flight was smooth and uneventful (the pilot and co-pilot were top notch), other than the fact it was colder than a summer in San Francisco. The view coming into Bronnoysund, Norway was spectacular. We were in the land of the midnight sun, about at the halfway point in Norway. I can’t imagine what lies north of us. The vibe and look of the place was a lot like the north island of Kauai, Hawaii. We were met by some local folks with the “Roots Festival” who were very friendly, our driver wound up taking us on a short detour to the hotel to show a few points of interest. He showed us the hall we would be playing in later that night, explaining that it had been used as a place to store fish at one point. A bit later we went to sound check, and yes you could still smell the fish in the entrance way, though not so much in the rustic hall itself, where there was a faint but lingering presence.
The sound check went off without a hitch. For the majority of the tour we have been provided with gear we use at every show. On this occasion, because it was a fly date, we had new backline gear. The keyboards seemed to work just fine, the mixing board for my instruments was more than adequate. No problems. At dinner I was asked by the fellow who was providing the musical equipment if the keyboard player in the opening act could use them. I said sure, thinking it might help our guys, as it was tight stage setup, and although my intentions were good, that was my first and last mistake.
We weren’t going on until 11:30 p.m. that evening. When we finally hit the stage the first thing I noticed was the seat for the piano was quite a bit higher than at sound check. Not a big deal--it was a drum stool that you could set at any height you wanted. It was my first clue that things were not what they had been at the sound check. We had just been introduced to the audience so I was still giving my area on stage the once over. I reached over to play the B-3 and there was a loud crackle and distortion. Great. It just went on from there—the piano volume was fluctuating up and down, the top keyboard wasn’t registering on the lcds on my monitor, which gave me the impression that it might not have been heard out front--this problem also happened a day later in Pori, Finland, and it was completely different gear! I have said many times I come from the school of “It’s a poor workman who blames his tools,” so I wasn’t about to let any of this stop me. A couple of very deep breaths, some choice profanity laced phrases directed at the back wall, and, turning to the audience, a Mary Tyler Moore smile on my face, I began to make some methodical adjustments on each of the problems, all in the midst of playing and carrying on with the band; later, I received help from the guy providing us the gear—yes, the same guy who had asked me if the other fellow might use my setup, and that he wouldn’t change a thing--who quickly taped the cables to the back of the piano to keep the instrument from cutting in and out.
I should say that throughout the tour, in general, I have had some really good keyboards to play with. The show in Norway, while a bit out of the ordinary, was ultimately just another subtle reminder not to take anything for granite. All part of the job, and everyone up on that stage has gone through it many, many times, musicians and crew alike. Playing live is about making adjustments most of the time. Not just within your own gear but to the sound in the room, the variances in what you can or can’t hear, adjusting to out of kilter tempos or arrangements forgotten, miscues with the vocalist, etc. That night in Bronnoysund, Norway, was a tough night for me, but I felt a pretty good sense of accomplishment for having wrestled the problems to the ground and kept moving as if nothing too dramatic was going on. Oh, and the audience had a great time.
We left the hall around 1:30 a.m. It was daylight. I had gone out earlier in the evening, following a very nice dinner with the band at the hotel—I passed on the fish, although Paul had the monkfish, which was excellent—to take some photos at sunset along the dock. The sun never really set, though. We were lucky to be in Norway this time of year. I hope we get a chance to come back for another visit to this incredible place.,
The next day, an absolutely gorgeous day, we piled back on our Indiana Jones plane and took off for Pori, Finland. I finished (no pun intended) my Steve Martin book, got some fine photos leaving Norway and upon our approach to Pori. We landed safely, we’re met at the plane by customs agents, whom we showed our respective passports to, and then went on our journey in lovely Finland. The tour continues….as will my blogs.
From Nuremberg, Germany
Bill
