The show day in Argentina begins with a lengthy lay-in at the hotel and a
hearty breakfast, with plenty of time to catch up with the necessities of life, like back to back episodes of CSI and dyeing my hair, which seems to have aged considerably within the last four or five flights.
"Don't Fly To Me Argentina"
By the time we all meet up for lobby call, I am restored to a semblance of normal life, my case re-packed and everything ready for the afternoon at the venue. Before leaving we're assailed by fans outside the hotel, and spend a good twenty minutes signing and having our pictures taken with those foolhardy enough to want them. That is definitely one thing I've noticed over the course of the last week, is that we have some very loyal and patient fans, something that I am definitely proud of, and aside from a couple of over-zealous types, everybody has been super-friendly and above all, considerate.
"Dani's Teenage Band Tribute"
Anyhoo, we have played this venue before and because of its distance from the hotel we take everything for the show with us as we'll be staying there until after the festivities.
What a great day today turns out to be. Everybody is in high spirits due to the clement weather, the great sound check, the take-out massive steaks for dinner, the free ceedees we get to choose from a stall at the venue's entrance, the friendly meet-and-greet signing session and the chance to watch the four support acts from the side of the stage where our dressing room is situated, with plenty of room to stretch out our travel bomb-sites.
When the time comes, the gig is awesome and the crowd, gradually growing larger as the hour nears, are exceptionally loud and appreciative, with circle pits starting up with every fresh track we play.
The show is great and the large stage affords us plenty of room to manoeuvre and perform and the gig flies by, even at ninety minutes plus, with everybody in high spirits when we leave to thunderous applause. Amazing! Everybody is super pumped.
"Giving Them The Horn"
Paul has some friends come visit and they pile into the fan-besieged bus back to the hotel (it's like a scene from a George Romero zombie movie as the back of the bus is opened and fans pour in, rocking hands grasping for human flesh...) where we opt for brief showers before meeting back up in the foyer to walk to a local Metal bar. The next three hours are spent in some good company drinking van rouge, playing pool and jumping about to a selection of heavy metal classics as requested from the resident DJ. Minimal sleep awaits as it is another early start, but tomorrow is a travel day to Brazil, so what the hell!
Remember, all work and no play makes Jack a very naughty psychopath!
A lengthy flight to San Paolo starts the day off early before we arrive around midday and are met by the promoter Marcos and his girlfriend. The drive to the hotel (the comically titled 'Golden Towers', prompting the urge to go up to the rooftop and piss off the side!) is about an hour and when we arrive we're famished, so we quickly check into our luxury rooms and then reconvene across the road for a buffet lunch. A wee bit of sightseeing ensues with Matt and Lindsay which involves walking both sides of a main street consisting mainly of shoe shops before hitting the hotel bar for coffee.
We have a signing around five at the venue which consists of fifty or so ardent fans who are led in one by one to have photos and get ceedees indelibly signed. This appears very reminiscent of a job interview and you can't help but feel sorry for the seemingly intimidating circumstances, though the fans seem to love it. And a mixed bunch they are too, from the total Goth fan boy look to the elegant blonde flight attendant (unfortunately not ours, else we'd push for an upgrade...). Plus I get showered (fortunately not 'Golden Towered') in gifts which include hand drawings of my ugly mug, a round-faced Dani Filth doll with long stringy hair and a Tutankhamen sarcophagus to store my pencils in. Fan-tastic! I love getting presents!!!
Afterwards some of us hit gastronomic gold as the pizzas we're due for dinner are delayed, so the promoter opts to take us out somewhere for pasta, which then fortuitously changes when half of our entourage decide to linger back at the hotel, and with the pasta bar full when we arrive late from the early evening traffic, we're taken to a more expensive buffet restaurant where we are assailed by meat of every description, to the point of wondrous, utter gluttony. At one point, having foolishly eaten my own body weight in seafood already, I have to tell the waiters to stop haranguing me with meat, as their assault is perpetual.
Tomorrow I shall pass a cow!
The day of the show begins with a big big breakfast before lazily returning to my room to sleep it off like a hamster for a few hours, then I catch up on the Boston bombing nightmare on CNN, before showering and packing for the gig. Then I decide to take the elevator to the rooftop pool to take some pictures of the San Paolo skyline and in very un-vampiric spirit, indulge in a wee spot of sunbathing. At around three we head down to the venue where we mooch about the place whilst the Crewdle prepare the stage to artistic perfection. Tonight's show is an early one with a seven o'clock start, with no support band whatsoever, being a complete departure from Argentina's four band prelude. Still, the sound check is spot-on and afterwards there is plenty of time to retire to the hotel for a few hours preparation and making-up in the comfort of our suites.
"Golden Tower Rooftop"
There is a sense of trepidation for tonight's show as it is our last on the South American continent and tomorrow we all fly our separate ways home for what is tantamount for forty eight hours, at least for me. Everyone in our little entourage is really excited for the performance and rightly so, as it turns out to be another belter of a show. We play a longer set tonight as we are the only band, and I use the central catwalk into the crowd to maximum potential, shaking my little white booty to proper comedic effect. The sound is perfect and everybody on stage has a riotous hundred minutes or so before the visual fuck fest ends with an earth-shattering climax ( or so I am led to believe).
"My Six Are On Fire"
There are a few people to meet afterwards and we are presented again with some brilliant caricatures of the band to sign and various people from the record company to meet. The day ends victoriously with yet another all-you-can meat buffet,though a little cheaper than last night's, though with the human dustbins Paul and Big Martin present I am not at all surprised, as they could eat Olympically for Britain.
The evening rounds off with a few beers by the pool on the roof and then a glass of Vino with Young Daniel and Lindsay before heading for bed. Tomorrow's eleven hour flight back to the UK is in the afternoon, but fearing the onset of tiredness once I'm home, I decide to play it safe and retire for the evening, aiming for maximum sleep as I know I'm shit at drifting off on aeroplanes, no matter how lengthy the flight.
Briefly covering the next few days...
The flight back to the UK was horrendous as it was crammed with pensioners on holiday to London and all they did was chitter for much of the duration as if they were congregated at a Gala Bingo meeting. Plus the aircraft was hot and stuffy and I was imprisoned at my window seat for hours fending off a cramped bottom. Still it made for quite a contrast on returning home, which was absolutely awesome. Toni and Luna were over the moon to see me and I them, and after no more than a few hours nap on that first afternoon , life returned swiftly to normal for the remaining forty odd hours, with a Mexican meal out, a spooky movie on the sofa, all my washing done, some shopping, a visit to my Mothers, a sunny afternoon spent recharging the dead battery on my car and undertaking a spot of gardening, some light work on the computer in my office, phone calls to Devilment and Temple members to keep abreast of their plans, all my tour photos downloaded, my car insurance sorted and to top it all off, some top notch marital bliss, if you catch my drift.
Next stop on the Filth agenda... A twelve hour flight to Singapore and the Asian and Australian Leg of our World tour. Can't bloody wait!!!
All the best, your jet setting fiend,
Dani Filth esquire.
"Far Away Strip"