Official website for the legendary Scottish band – All the news and latest merchandise
Day Off, Christchurch 20/03/18
Well thanks guys for leaving me to park the gig ambulance on my own, you know how confused I get in my old age.
Do I park in the space that generates good vibrations or abandon it in the disabled space again?
That is all.
Christchurch, New Zealand 19/03/18
Well that’s us just touched down in Christchurch. Mark has found a new place to dwell, Simon looks worried and Scott stands back in amazement as Jamie fingers a Belisha beacon. Looks like the aliens are coming.
That is all.
Luna Park. St Kilda 18/03/18
Australia, thank you so much for your support and hospitality over the past two weeks. We have had an absolute ball (and I don’t mean Skippy’s scrotum). Great to meet up with locals as well as old friends from back home. We will return next year.
Next we fly to New Zealand next for the last week of our adventure.
That is all.
Melbourne 17/03/18
Melbourne you were fantastic tonight! Meet local legend Big Andy Inkster. Andy has in his hands the very rare Australian release of our first single ‘Harvest Home’ while Mark and I have Skippy’s sawn off scrotum in ours.
I can honestly say that this is the first time someone has actually bought me a body part. Not sure what I will keep in it though, maybe some plectrums or used bus tickets. Maybe some of you good people could come up with some suggestions.
That is all.
Sydney (Day 2), 16/03/18
We’ve had a few support acts over the years and this is one of them.
Ladies and gentlemen, please let me introduce you to Little Johnny Sputnik from local beat combo, ‘Simply Shit.’ Abandoned as a child, Johnny was brought up in the outback by woodtinks. He was so ugly when he fell out of his mother’s pouch, the midwifes actually slapped her for dropping such an ugly baby into the world.
Growing up he discovered loud guitar music and he learned to play guitar the hard way, he broke into Bert Weedon’s house and made Bert teach him one song per day, mainly polkas and some Jimmy Shand shit. But look at him now, a small yet perfectly formed rock star in the making. Johnny, you rock and we salute you.
That is all.
P.S. Happy birthday, Eggo and huge thanks to Josh Shipton from Panic Syndrome.
Sydney (Day 1), 15/03/18
Well, it’s farewell to Brisbane and hello to Sydney which will be home for the next two days. The good news is Dr Quinn Medicine Woman is still on the air down here, but the bad news is that those bloody do gooders at Environmental Health Australia have shut down Watson Towers.
The picture below was taken by local lad, Scott Whitley. If you look closely you will find Wally lurking in the shadows. If you find him don’t reply, just poke yourself in the puss with a sharp ferret.
That is all.
Brisbane, 14/03/18
Well that’s the deposit put down on the new residence. Just as Michael Jackson had Neverland, we have Watson Towers, a place where Australian and Scottish people can mix freely without ridicule. We will be introducing highland style games where kangaroos slug it out with wee ned b*stards. Pop-up shops selling delicacies from the bush and freshly caught haggis from the borders and, my personal favourite, Australian rules snooker. All of the above usually end up in a fight, so it’s winner winner chicken dinner all round.
Brisbane you rocked like there was no tomorrow.
That is all.
Australia, Day off. Belated birthday party 13/03/18
Big thanks to everyone who celebrated my birthday tonight. Cheers to the band for providing the envelopes stuffed with cash, to the promoter for providing the dancing girls and last but not least, a big shout out to local hipsters Troy and Bunny (below) from support band, ‘The Pet Shop Drongos’. That cake was to die for.
That is all.
Australia, Travel Day 12/03/18
Remember, a Watson is not for life, it’s only for Christmas.
For a small fee you can hire these fit, young bushy tailed Watties to brighten up your Christmas party. They dance, sing and even speak in tune. So pet them, feed them then flush them.
That is all.
Australia Day 3, Adelaide 10/03/18
Happy birthday to me! Well, that’s me 102 years old and I still have an ass that can crack nuts. Just stick a leaf of lettuce and a walnut between my cheeks and hey, presto! The best Waldorf salad this side of the Poconos.
As you can see, the guys have bought me a metal roadie since Rory isn’t around. He is called Rodney and is worse than useless. String changes, forget it. Just look at those digits.
Come back, Rory. We need you.
That is all.