EUROPE - STOCKHOLM, HUS7

Serene drive from Gothenburg to Stockholm, passing beautiful lake bathed in sunshine. Still freezing tho, but hard to tell if I’m cold or just having the DTs. Snow by Stockholm. Childlike wonder turns to terror as our van brakes don’t like the ice on the road. 

Play the same venue I saw Wolfbrigade/Skitsystem/Swordwielder at. Bucket list shit. Place does smell like rat piss. Behind the amps there’s droppings. Still, much nicer than many places we’ve played. 

Chris Drums takes us to fancy cocktails for dinner. Espresso martinis turbocharging me. Caught in a wild snowstorm on way back to venue, hands frozen before playing. Really good show tho, crowd loving it. Some people have come from Helsinki. Morbid Breath homies Stefan and Marcus DJing too, great shit. 

Last show with High Command so we rockin it. People in Scandinavia have been reading the online tour diaries, offer me variations on the sentiment ‘Glad you guys made it, thought you might die.’ One fella insistently plays me Swedish d-beat off his phone. Simple, wonderful pleasures. You listen to the music of a country for so long, build up a mental myth about the place. Then you play it and people thank you for playing. But the privilege is yours. 

Wonderful hospitality from tonite’s promoters. We nearly die slipping on icy streets on the way back to (another) plush hotel (they spoil us here). Chris Drums stumbling around the room shrieking ‘How can they afford this?!’ Hang with new friends at a medieval bar (staff dress like Wytch Hazel). 

Drunk and wandering the frozen streets, everything blanketed in a fine Scarface powder. Chris Drums drunkest I’ve seen him in awhile. He slipped and fell twice, exhibits profound confusion at 4am Max Burger: Chris (pointing to leftover chips on table from previous customer): Whose chips are these?! Me: Last people, you didn’t order any. Chris (putting the chips in his mouth):... Me: Don’t eat the table chips they’re from the last customers. Chris (fully eating the table chips):... Me: Stop eating stuff off the table! Chris (picks up someone’s old onion slice, eats it):... 

Long drive back to Copenhagen now to have one final beer with High Command. Depression not yet arrived, but definitely in transit.