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  • Writer's pictureLesley McLaren

West Coast Tour Day 8 - Tuesday 27th November 2007

Ahoy there! It’s red wine o’clock and we’re in the dressing room of the Malibu Inn on the beach in Malibu. The fires are out now so we’re safe. The fires actually stopped burning right at the back door of this venue. The hill at the back of us is destroyed. We’re currently one hour from stage time and warming up our vocal chords with Corona and a cheeky bottle of red Californian wine. It’s a 2004 which is practically vintage in my book. I’ve got shuffle play on the laptop and I’m being accused of being an 80s chick for playing Aztec Camera and Prefab Sprout. I don’t care, I loved the 80s and wore florescent socks and ra-ra skirts with the best of them. Bring back roller skating on Saturdays at the Sports Centre pretending to be Torville and Dean and walking home with an empty can of coke stick to your heal so it souns like high heels.

We walked along the pier here earlier on. We were no Baywatch cast prancing down there. If you try and imagine the opening credits for The Bill where the burly polis march down the street and the camera zooms in on their big muckle Doc Martins. Well, that was The Hedrons walking down the pier into the Pacific sunset earlier tonight. So dainty.

Earlier on this afternoon we had a few hours to kill back in Hollywood so we took a wander down to Mel’s Diner. We’d heard it’s quite a famous place but I can’t remember why. We walked in and were totally aghast at the décor. It was amazing! It was like a 50s style diner with wee duke boxes on every table and huge black and white prints on the wall of George Lucas and all the old 50s & 60s film stars. The ban on fries ended at this moment. You can’t walk into a place like this and not get the “legendary Mel’s Diner Burger & Fries”. So, I ordered the turkey burger to lessen the guilt. It was AMAZING and meant that I couldn’t eat my dinner tonight at the gig. Oh well. More room for the rider!

Right, it’s 21:55 and I’m being dragged to the stage and having to cut Steely Dan’s Rikki Don’t Lose that Number short. Drummer rage! It should make for a good set.

It’s now midnight and we’re on the Pacifi Coast highway and there are loads of pot holes in the road so it’s very difficult to type. The gig went really well and we shifted a ton of CDs. The people in Malibu and really chilled out and they loved the fact that we went into the audience and chatted away, charming the pants off them with our Scottish accents. I’ve been playing tunes on the bus ride back to Hollywood to keep us awake. I played Billy Bragg’s New England. Rosie & Gill were disgusted. They don’t get it. The more rough and ready a track sounds, then the better I think.

We’re now back at the hotel and we’re playing John Martyn’s Solid Air album before we go to sleep. I went to see John Martyn play in Perth this year with Tippi and it was an absolutely outstanding concert. The guy is a legend. Anyway, that’s enough idle chit chat. My scratcher is waiting.

Night Night,

Soup x

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