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REMINISCENCES OF A TUB-THUMPIN'DAME.
Clare Moore continues her memoirs of touring with the Moodists around Europe in a rusted Bedford van driven by a crazed ex SAS man.

Then Switzerland...

We left Vienna the next morning ,my handbag stuffed full of Austrian Shillings ,each note being worth about 0.0006 cents.I had become the "Bagman" for the band somewhere along the way ("Baglady" not being an appropriate term in this instance) and eventually it became necessary for me to play drums with my bag tied to my leg in case any thieving bastards were about.

.Of course ,we couldn't leave until I had deposited a few "thanks for the cultural experience" van spews along the road out of town .

Outside Vienna the scenery changed from Kurt Waldheim to Mad King Ludwig fairyland ,passing castles rising out of lakes ,snow capped mountains and funny little houses with large, tanned, older women with polka dot bikinis and bouffant hairdos catching some rays while
their husbands annihilated the lawn in wrap around shades.

It was along here somewhere that we came to an intersection with a sign saying "Egg". We had just passed the road to Egg.(Proving that "the People with Chairs up their noses" song was geographically correct.)

The band hadn't counted on this drive being that hard ,but after another all nighter ,driving through tunnels and along cliffs ,we eventually stopped under a bridge outside Frijbourg and all fell asleep.All 10 of us in the tiny van.

That kind of tore it.We had almost had enough of this shit and ,even though it was only 6am or so, we decided to
go to the apartment of the tour promoter to get the key for the accommodation he was providing.

Me, Chris and Mick wearily climbed the stairs to do the disturbing
,but had a very rude awakening ,when the door opened and standing there was a young woman with not even a sock on. I went straightinto "nothing strange is happening here,everything is lovely " mode,(a tactic perfected by my mother for use in times of incredible weirdness)
,but the clang of the fellas' jaws hitting the marble in that hallway could have been looped and used as the rhythm track on a Neubauten record.

Eventually the nice nude lady figured out who we were and gave us the keys and we crashed in a beautiful apartment over looking the cobblestoned streets of Frijbourg , waking on the hour when a mechanical circle of saints did a 360 turn out of the ancient clock face of the church opposite.

Our afternoon off was spent really trying to find out just what it is that makes the Swiss tick. Apart from the fact that they eat a certain cheese there that can kill you ,the Swiss are very civilized when it comes to food,.. they eat freshly made chocolate all day.Also they drink red wine from pop top bottles (like coca cola)bought from the corner milk bar. This renders the contents perfectly safe to be drunk in any quantity,all day. As for us....when in Rome...

Although we had a strong aversion to the "Day Gig" ,the following day we made it to the venue early and found that we were playing in a ruined 16th century castle on the outskirts of town.The stage was set up in front of the wall used for executions by firing squad. This all looked great to us , until we learned that the support act was a puppet show for kids and then started noticing that there were many chaps pedalling around on unicycles with harlequin tights on.

I think we must have been quite pissed off about all this ,as I vaguely remember horrified parents covering their crying childrens eyes and ears and running from the courtyard when we were playing.Well ...if they can't take it...

Sometimes when the tour is over and you have suffered greatly at the hands of your absent-minded booking agent ,your thoughts turn to vengeance. In this case we made a pact to send him by post all of our soiled socks in honour of his efforts.

We were going to send our undies ,but they had already left for London under their own steam.

a short bio of Clare and Dave

A short bio of the Moodists