Omaha Rainbow : Issue 35

EUROTOUR '84

by Chuck McDermott

There would not be space nor sufficient recall to give a day-by-day account of our month-long trip to Europe.  I'll try to recall highlights and vivid impressions.

My first observation was that it's a tremendously long plane ride from Los Angeles to Edinburgh, Scotland.  I watched my beard grow.  I read ''War and Peace.''  I finally got up an exciting game of aisle hockey with some hyperactive ten year old, halfway through the third movie.  I was, however, tremendously relieved at how smoothly things went at customs and immigration.  In the old days, a musician at customs was about as warmly welcomed as Archie Bunker at a NOW convention.  This time when I answered the query, "With whom do you perform?'' by ruefully replying, "John Stewart,'' the customs agent raised one eyebrow and observed, ''He's turning music into gold, is he?"  I smiled and thought how foolish I was to have loaded my suitcase with dog biscuits.

In Edinburgh, I was greeted by Peter O'Brien and Rod Wilson of Sunstorm Records.  They, along with their associate Kingsley Grimble (an Italian, I would imagine) have released "Trancas" in the UK and arranged the concert dates.  They were gracious and tolerant of my disorientation.  The first show of the tour was that evening in Edinburgh and it was a remarkably memorable evening.  There was a charge to the air, a tangible sense of anticipation, an excitement over John's presence and a strong attachment to his body of songs.  The opening notes of many songs were greeted with applause of recognition.  Without speaking for John, I'm sure he found it moving to be playing his music in the land of his ancestors for the first time to an audience that responded so personally and enthusiastically.  It really was a great night.  I wish my guitar had worked.

John, his wife Buffy, and son Luke were guests of Andy Fergus at his magnificent country estate outside of Glasgow.  Andy is a long-time friend of the Stewarts and begrudgingly made a garret apartment available to me for several days.  The Scottish countryside is as picturesque as reported and the Scots themselves as hospitable and impossible to understand as rumoured.  We heard native folk music and sampled the highland malts.  Scotland was easy to enjoy.

Our next move was on to Germany.  As Buffy and Luke headed off to visit friends in Sweden, John and I flew to Hamburg to promote "Trancas" with our new friends at Line Records.  Our host was Uve Tessnow, and as was characteristic of other experiences in West Germany, we felt as though we'd grown up next door to Uve.  In fact, one of the most dominant impressions I formed was that Americans and West Germans share a great deal in common.  Though the Germans, like all European nationalities, maintain cultural memories that span thousands of years, much has changed since WW2, making West Germany a country that is as high-tech as it is old fashioned.  We felt at home.  We thought Mercedes Benz's made perfectly acceptable taxi-cabs.  Those folks have brains and brawn.

It also helps that almost all Germans speak near-perfect English.  Communicating was no problem.  There was, however, a notable German to English translation eccentricity we found amusing.  Perhaps it's the way verbs are conjugated in German but questions like, "Will you meet me in the lobby at 8?'' ended up in the imperative, "You will meet me in the lobby at 8." Either it's an idiosyncrasy of German grammar or these people are awfully bossy.

Hamburg was a very lovely city.  From Beatles folk-lore I imagined it to be a dark mill-town, but it was quite the opposite; it was green and clean and boasts of more canals than Venice.  Most beautiful and charming.

Our first show back in the UK was in Liverpool and, man, was it exciting to be in the Fab Four's hometown!  We played a theatre where the Beatles won a talent show in 1962.  The same stage.  Yeah.  This show, again, was well received and the brush with Liverpool memorable.  We then headed down to London, one-time seat of the now dismantled British Empire, where we would headquarter for the rest of our stay.

I'll continue this riveting tale in the next issue!

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