SUCH A CONCERT CAN BE VERY LONG

Over the years, slowly but surely, I got into the routine of being drunk at every single concert. In the early days we only played about once or twice a week. Afterwards there was always enough time to recuperate. Later on, as the tours became more professional and continuous, I drank less but a lot more regularly. Basically, I was boozing every night to fight off the previous day's hangover. Which meant a little more every night. The quality of my performance had started to slack, but I never realised because after two glasses (or rather plastic beakers) I felt really good. Sometimes I was scared I would hurt myself riding over the audience ion my rubber dinghy. That fear was easily alleviated by a mouthful of tequila right before going onstage. So once we played in Thuringia. The heat and humidity within the venue were so stifling that we had to blow-dry my sampler because it refused to work. We were sweating a lot and drinking beer to quench the thirst as is wasn't customary to dispense water. When the venue shut down we were up for a little more fun. So we took my car to drive to the nearest village, looking for a party. We couldn't find one, simply parked at the roadside, put a few candles on the bonnet and cranked up the stereo to full volume. Some stayed in the car, others got out, talked or danced. We had enough to drink and things got pretty merry.

Hours later we drove back to the village where the promoter had promised to sort out some accommodation which was what usually happened in those days. Unfortunately, we only knew the approximate location and that the house had a grey fence. When we finally found it, the door was locked. I discovered an open window in the upper storey, took off my shoes and, with the help of Till, climbed up into that room. Then I made my way down the staircase and opened the front door to let in the others. Once inside, we were pretty disappointed to find all the rooms occupied – things had obviously not been organised properly. In the end, everyone more or less found a place to sleep and only I was still up in the hallway, when all of a sudden a gang or irate men stormed in who had been woken up by our movements. "I'll break your fucking neck," the ringleader shouted, taking us for burglars. We raced put of the house and down the street. I left my shoes right there. Three houses further down we discovered our actual accommodation. The next day I had to walk around without shoes. Luckily enough at a service station we found a similar pair which, once I had tried them on, Till sneaked out under his shirt. Sometimes, after nights like these, I would end up at a train station extremely hungover and penniless and had to explain my situation to ill-humoured conductors, trying to somehow rejoin the band before the next gig was about to start. When, on one of those nights, I was looking forward to a restful evening, they tell me that a good party had been organised just for us and after a few spirits and mixers all exhaustion would fade to distant memory. In situations like these I would promise tickets or souvenirs to everyone and give them my phone number.

The next day I'd remember absolutely nothing and would be extremely embarrassed. What better way to combat that than with another little beer? My one period of actual sobriety was down to a serious bout of diarrhoea. I was so sick that I could pay no attention to my surroundings any more. I was lying in a hotel bed, trying to get some camomile tea down my throat. I definitely didn't want to think about the gig. In the evening they ferried me to the venue like a piece of freight and I mechanically started to dress. They placed a bucket on stage for me. During the concert I could only focus on my body. The next day I felt a little better. So, in a way, this was the first time I truly experienced a concert. Time simply doesn't pass. After three songs I felt totally superfluous. I simply didn't like the songs and I saw the stage show as boring, unimaginative and embarrassing. I didn't know how I could motivate myself to take part in this nonsense any more and just waved my arms around a bit. There was some kind of dance routine I went through without any drive or ambition so nobody understood what that was all about. Such a concert can be very long. Luckily, afterwards none of the fans recognised me because I look different onstage than I do in real life.

Flake Lorenz

Back