Cold towels and Vegan Snacks
Rocksey has returned home from the UK leg of his current Festival tour under his latest pseudonym - the very private, shy and retiring Chilean Artist Pablo Mercedes. This latest name change had come about after I had mistakenly thought a very very (and I definitely emphasis the double very here) heavy thrash metal band was actually a rather cool sounding reggae band (due to their Rootsy’ name) and booked them for a chilled out Birthday event for The Baron and Dreads who horrified at the screeching vocals from this Brazilian thrash metal singer got into the camper van and headed south as fast as they could. Rocksey and Max Millionaire had laughed so much at my gaff that they decided that Rocksey could get away with sounding himself like a chilled South American dude with a guitar when the reality is something completely different.
However, the gaff proved to be a resounding success, as Pablo Mercedes and his Spanish sounding sidekick SP (never one to change his name or appearance) hit the festival road touring alongside the likes of Rob Zombie and gained a few more thousand fans along the way.
When returning home from any kind of gig Rocksey is usually in need of complete peace and quiet. He would normally spend a few days lying down in a darkened room with a cold towel over his head, muttering about how much his legs and back ached and would only come out at the dead of night to rummage around in the fridge for vegan snacks. This time round though I opened the door to a completely different man. Kitten he yelled sweeping me off my feet and spinning me round before planting a soggy wet kiss on my lips, he bounded into the kitchen, throwing open the American fridge and cramming a handful of garden picked strawberries into his mouth . Before I could even ask ‘how did it go?’, his mobile phone rang and he strode off towards the studio shouting loudly into the phone ‘you have to get round here Marsh, now! We need to sort this out!!’
Footsteps in the hallway alerted me to the fact that Rocksey had not come home alone. Behind him was a very bedraggled ToxicTrash Keg almost bowed double with the rucksack on her back and her arms filled with plastic carrier bags. He made me carry all the stuff she yelped and sat down on a heap in the hallway – I need a bath I’m so tired and dirty she started to cry.
A few hours later, TTK has recovered from being the Human Donkey and had gone out with her Rock DJ squeeze to bathe in the deflected light of the new Rock God phenomena Pablo Mercedes was actually HER DAD. Pablo/Rocksey had not emerged from the studio and I was now very tired of binge watching Ghost Asylum I decided that I could no longer wait to see what Rocksey needed Marsh NOW for and desperate to hear the latest gossip from the Festival scene I walked down the hall to the studio with a bowl of vegan snacks and a cold towel. Although the light was on, it was eerily quiet.
Peaking through the door expecting all sorts of Rock God shit going on, Rocksey was asleep in the chair, jeans rolled up, socks and boots neatly by the side of the chair his feet in a bucket of ( what would now be cold) water. Marsh was nowhere to be seen but it was apparent that he had been at the studio as there was a teeny tiny suitcase open on the floor with one trainer sitting on top what looked like a hell of a lot of neatly folded band T Shirts. What on earth is going on I muttered quietly to myself not wanting to wake Rocksey I tiptoed over to the mixing desk where Rockseys phone lay blinking a green message light - nudging it back to life there was the message from Marsh which must have prompted Rockseys outburst earlier – can’t get my trainers in to my suitcase – it read – can’t go to the villa – nightmare.
I half turned to catch Rocksey looking quizzically at me – what’s going on? I asked holding the phone towards him. Rocksey laughed loudly - I told Marsh he could come to the villa with myself and SP next week to finish recording Pablos new album but he could only take hand luggage, you know what he’s like he can’t go anywhere without his full set of Louis Vuittons - anyway I’ve sorted it out for him – he nodded at the teeny tiny suitcase ( which I then recognised as one of ours) and everythings packed but he’s gone off in a strop now saying he’s going to have a heart attack.
I looked back down at the suitcase and then turned again to Rocksey to ask about the tour but Rocksey had the cold towel over his head and his hand in a bowl of Vegan snacks…... ( to be continued)
