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Paul and Anthony at my place in London.

Photo by JT Rhoades

Yesterday morning I woke up with a bang after not one, not two, but three cans and bottles fell and landed on a sleeping Riley Hawk’s face, being probably the worst wake up call of the tour – for Riley, obviously. I was perfectly fine as I watched it happen from afar.

Waking up, I was pretty bummed out as this was the end of the tour for me and I knew I’d be shortly on my way back to London and reality, while the guys set off to France for an early night before Motorculto festival later today. Luckily, they had a last minute change of heart and decided to head back to London with me for record shopping and a night of fun in the big smoke. After all, this was also the day of releasing ‘New Beginning’, the first single of their upcoming album, ‘New Beginnings’, and if that isn’t reason enough to celebrate, then what is?

We arrived at mine in London where they had a play at my shitty guitars that finally got their chance to shine, before heading towards the tube – or ‘the underground’ as those Americans call it. There were a few technical complications as I tried to maneuver them through the process of buying their first ever Oyster cards followed by certain band members who shall not be named (Paul) getting caught in the barriers while trying to exit the station, which resulted him calling out my name in panic like a damsel in distress (Sorry Paul.) Despite all odds, we made it to Rough Trade.

Petyr’s Riley Hawk and Paul browsing – Parker and photographer J.T Rhoades surfing. By Ella Stormark

After 25 minutes of intense browsing and record shopping, we headed towards Camden and one of my favourite bars and venues, The Black Heart where beers were drank, fun was had, and Holy Diver was played. We left The Black Heart for a to check out a funk playing brass band at The Blues Kitchen, only to get rejected at the door as the youthful looking papa Paul didn’t have ID, and the journey continued to The Dev where more beer was consumed, enough for the majority of us to decide that dancing would be a great idea. There are a few videos on my phone I’m keeping for a rainy day when Radio Moscow’s taken over the world, and I can make millions on footage of Parker doing the worm. He didn’t actually, but damn do I wish he did.

At The Black Heart – by Ella Stormark

Parker by JT Rhoades

Closing time was a reality, and it was time to head back to mine where tour manager Karl was waiting to take them to France, leaving me to wallow in post tour blues on my own.


Photo by JT Rhoades

Anthony, Parker and Paul, thanks a million for letting me tag along and giving me an insight of life on the road – I had a blast! See ya’ll at Desertfest Antwerp in October!

Anthony outside Bristol’s Electric Ladyland

To just dive right in there and continue where I left it off at my last post; we left Bristol slightly later than expected, and after a quick pit stop at Electric Ladyland we set sail towards the land of Black Sabbath – Birmingham. A few hours of blasting Birmingham’s finest kings of darkness in the tour van, and we rolled up to the The Castle & Falcon, which apparently up to very recently, used to host mainly bands playing Irish music.

Support bands for the evening were local bands Luna & The Moonhounds and You Dirty Blue, and I’ll be honest with you – I missed out on pretty much both of their sets for the sole reason that we had a TV that could play youtube videos in the backstage area, and I choose to spend that time horizontal on the sofa while requesting live videos of Grand Funk Railroad – that Paul would refuse to play as he was already knee deep in old Captain Beyond. Fair enough.

All the way from Stoke-On-Trent band Psyence’s Jamie and Jamie had embarked on an hour long car journey to attend the gig, leaving one Jamie to indulge in all the booze while the other one had to soberly watch him do so. As Radio Moscow started playing, I had the pleasure of watching both of their reactions to their first ever Radio Moscow experience, and it was pure joy and excitement in their eyes;

«Radio Moscow. Hands down the best gig I have ever been to. The man is like Hendrix reincarnated!»
Jamie Bellingham, Psyence bassist.


Photo by JT Rhoades

When the night ended we packed up our stuff and headed to the swanky hotel we were meant to stay at, only to find out a mix up had been made and that there was no more rooms left. That was ok though, who wants soft, comfy beds at 1am anyway when you can be stranded in the rain instead? We headed back to The Castle & Falcon where they took us in with open arms and sorted us out in the cozy backstage area by re-stocking the fridge we’d previously emptied for beer, making sure we’d stay hydrated through out the night. At this point, we were all pretty much partied out, and Netflix seemed like a great idea. I broke out my brightly coloured green sleeping bag yet again as we all tuned in to watch Ozark, and it took me about 15 minutes before I crashed, burned and fell asleep on the floor.

Parker and Riley backstage at The Castle & Falcon

Photo by JT Rhoades

Another day, another city. We left beautiful seaside city Hastings behind, and have just rolled into Bristol and The Exchange.

Last night saw a local band called ‘Gorilla’ supporting Moscow as well as The Groundhogs, a band fronted by Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell frontman Jonny Gorilla, former RIDDLES drummer Ryan Matthews and some crazy talented bassist extraordinaire called Sarah Jane.

Following Gorilla was Groundhogs yet again, and I could keep singing their praises as they’re just incredible – and probably some of the nicest guys around. As I type, Petyr’s Riley Hawk who’s tagging along for the ride just got his Groundhogs Split vinyl signed by Ken, who let us in on the secret of how they made that infamous record cover – with scissors. Cut, copy, and paste. ‘It’s amazing the lenghts you go to when there’s no technology.’


Photo by JT Rhoades

Anyway – Groundhogs came, saw and conquered, and as Radio Moscow took the stage at around 10.30, people were getting super stoked – fan base fronted by two die hard fans air-guitaring front row. As for the Moscow dudes, I’m not sure what they put in the water over there in San Diego, but these guys takes musical craftsmanship to a whole new level as they’re all some sorts of psych connoisseurs. Sadly, due to an early live music curfew, music was cut at 11, leaving them with only a 25 or so minute slot which was a massive disappointment to everyone who made their way there to see them.

Photo by JT Rhoades

Photo by JT Rhoades

To drown our sorrows, we packed up and headed down the road to ‘Tin Tins’, the kinda place people head to mostly because it’s the only place open at that time a night, with weird ass mix of people and shitty pop music. Still, beggars cant be choosers – they had beer and who I assume might be the biggest Radio Moscow fan there is, who kept us fueled by Jägerbombs and Belgium beer until the end of the night, before somehow ending up back at the hotel with us with a bottle of whiskey, 24 beers and an acoustic guitar playing us the blues.

It’s currently pushing six o’ clock, and I’m sat on the floor listening to Radio Moscow sound checking and jammin ‘Walk in my shadow’ of Free’s debut album ‘Tons of Sobs.’ Rumour also has it that Parker will be playing with the Groundhogs later;

’If he can keep up with me.’ – Ken Pustelnik.

Claws are out and we’re in for a treat.

First day on the road with Radio Moscow and I’m currently on the verge of dying from alcohol poisoning and bad decisions.

Kicking it all off, they played a sold out show at London’s Borderline last night supported by the legendary Groundhogs, and I must say, having the Groundhogs supporting you is pretty damn cool – and pretty damn brave as those guys can tear shit up and have been doing so for decades, even before any of the Moscow dudes were born. It was my third time ever seeing Groundhogs, and needless to say, they left big boots to fill. Luckily, Radio Moscow are pretty damn great too and had every mind in there blown within the first song. It was my first time ever seeing them, and I’m stoked I get to see them again tonight. And tomorrow. And Thursday. Then twice again in October. That’s right, no getting rid of me now for these dudes.

Following last night’s gig I spilled an entire bottle of ranch over myself backstage before venturing next door to the dingiest dive bar of them all, Crobar. A place you go to lose your dignity, memory and personal belongings, and it might not come as a surprise that it’s all a bit of a blur after that. Cans of red stripe, hotel hallway vending machine bags of crisps, listening to Dirty Tricks and falling asleep on the floor. So far I think I’ve made a great impression on everyone, and it’s going really great.

Most of today has been spent in the van feeling horrendously hungover, with the highlight of the day being a pit stop at some pub in Kent which hosts Freddie Mercury, Michael Bublé, Elvis, and of course – white Tina Turner tribute nights. Next level entertainment right there, so I shall be returning once I’m sick and tired of this San Diego psych rock and in the mood for an upgrade.

As for now, we’ve just arrived in Hastings to find the venue being on the second floor, and had to load in a bunch of amps up through three flights of stairs, and as you all know, Orange amps are good as gold, but god damn heavy as led. Still, spirits are high, and as I type the guys are setting up and getting ready to soundcheck. Tomorrow we’re at The Exchange in Bristol, followed by The Castle and Falcon in Birmingham on Thursday, and I’m hoping for lifts and no condiment spillage.