Goodbye 2019, Hello Lockdown

Goodbye 2019, it was all I could think of during those midnight moments, we had finally played ourlast show of 2019- and what a year it had been. Jimmy’s was in full swing by this point, confetti everywhere, deafening crowd noise and none of us could see a thing through the mix of stage lights and haze. Even with all this chaos going on around us I couldn’t help but think how far we’d come that year. I wasn’t ready for 2020, not even a little bit and even though at the time I knew we had so many good things to come our way I was sad. A big part of me didn’t want to say good bye to the best year of my life.

We achieved our dreams in 2019, we released our debut album and it had charted, we had our first sell out tour where we’d even conquered the legendary Brudenell Social Club, we embarked on our first journeys to Europe and even had the honour of playingGlastonbury. It was hard to see how we could top that and I can’t help but laugh now knowing how much of a train wreck 2020 is. But I can’t deny that in that moment onstage, I knew that this show was the perfect setting to say our farewell. Because Liverpool gigs have always been our highlights, no matter what new weird and wonderful experiences befall us, there’s nothing more exciting than getting up and playing in our hometown- in front of the people that we know and love.These are the people who’ve been there from the start, they’ve seen all the blood, sweat and tears that’s gone into this and it always means so much more when we get share our music with them.

I think it’s why I end up finding myself reflecting about what we’ve done during my time onstage.There’s always a sense of a chapter closing because we’ve finally come home. This gig at Jimmy’s particularly felt like a homecoming to me because it’s become an important part of my life since it’s opened. We had played a few shows at their Manchester venue over the years but I first met George properly after our sellout show in the Bread Shed last May. My friend Megan who I’ve known since my uni days introduced me to him that night and we all went out for a few drinks to celebrate the occasion. It was then when I heard about Jimmy’s moving to Liverpool and after hearing George explain his vision I knew I had to be a part of it. It sounded perfect and the confidence with which he spoke about it only reinforced what I was feeling.

From day one I knew it was the place for me, because I’ve never known anywhere that has been so understanding of the unpredictable nature of my life with RRC. Even on my first day I had to leave early to record my parts for “Kid’s Addicted” and it was a total non-issue. George and Jimmy knew that the band took priority in my life, and they welcomed that with every intention of helping me out when I needed it. Fast forward a few days and I’m standing up on top of the bar, pissed as a fart playingJungle’s “Busy Earning” trying not fall off and thinking “how did I get here?”. I’m sure the lads agreed with me, I could see they were having a ball and I’m pretty sure they were enjoying not having to sweat it out up there with me for once.Feels weird not having that part of my life at the moment, but I know it’s not forever.

This year’s not been quite what we planned, but we’ll make it work. I just like to think we’ll be seeing the year out the same as the last. Seeing the lads again, getting back onstage and then maybe having a few drinks to celebrate. Back in Jimmy’s

Joe ‘The Blow’ Corby

Fran Died at Glastonbury

Glastonbury 2019. We were asked by BBC Introducing to play their stage at Worthy Farm. A milestone that most bands don't get to tick off. We were booked to play on Sunday; the last day of the festival. We arrived on Friday afternoon aiming to achieve the full glasto experience yet somehow stay fresh for Sunday. The plan was to take it easy so we were on form for the Sunday afternoon show. Most of us stuck to this plan.

That night we all watched Tame Impala smash The Other Stage then all somehow split up Me and Fran headed to Shangri-la. On the way we actually bumped into Kevin Parker. We didn't think we were that drunk when we met him but the fan-boy pictures we got said otherwise. It was at Shangri-la where we both got split up from each other in the mayhem. We later found each other in The Park area, both much more inebriated than when we lost each other. We were reunited by a mile long queue for 'The Rabbit Hole'. We didn't fancy queuing so with a bit of Dutch Courage we showed the 6'7 bouncer our artist wristband. He looked down on us and said "Ask The Hare.''. A 5'2 man dressed as a Hare appeared from behind the security and said "Are you artists?" We replied with an unsure nod and he reluctantly let us in. We crawled on our hands and knees through the rabbit hole and emerged in the bar. Immediately we recognized the likes of Fatboy Slim and Mark Ronson amongst loads of scousers. We were bopping about like Wayne and Garth. I went to the bar and Fran disappeared again. I found him paralytic at a tea party behind the bar. He'd drank a litre of Dark Rum. I dragged him out and called Simon and me and carried him back to the tent. The tent was about 3 miles away but somehow we made it there. He was sick in the tent and I had to share it with him.

The next day was the hottest day of the year. Fran cooked in that tent all day marinating in a pool of technicolor chunder. He emerged as we were leaving to stay at our manager’s friends house, Dr Phil’s. Phil had a beautiful home just outside of Bristol. We arrived there and were blown away by it, Francis found the nearest bed and went back to sleep, he just wanted something medicinal to make him feel better. Phil went and found him with a handful of steroid suppositories, to this day we don’t know whether he used them but what I will say is this... Francis returned to us back to his usual state, up and about with his eyes as wide as his arsehole.

Tom Willo

Romanian Rock Stars

We’re invited to play Summer Well Festival In Bucharest, Romania. We were opening the main stage for bands like Jungle and The 1975. We’d fucking made it.

Flight to instabul. Flight to Bucharest. Chauffeur pickup. He even had a sign with “RED RUM CLUB” on it. Driven to the best hotel in the city. The Hilton. Complete with swimming pool sauna and free food. We were Rock Stars. Finally. Rock stars without guitars or instruments mind you, they were in Istanbul somewhere but we didn’t care. We had people to sort stuff like that now and we’re all busy ringing our mums to tell them we’d arrived safely.

On arrival at the hotel the artist liaison had told us that there was a table booked in our name in the best club in the city. A night in one of Europe’s craziest city’s was on the cards. We should have all behaved as the show was the following day... but we’re Rock Stars remember.

The rest of the night can either not be fully remembered or spoken about without incriminating someone in something so I’ll leave it to your imagination.We got back to the hotel at 5am.8am: Knock on the door. Tour manager “guitars haven’t arrived” he told us, “everyone that has an instrument must go the airport to verify themselves before the can track were the are”.  Our soundcheck is at half 2.

It slowly dawned on me that I don’t have an instrument, and didn’t have to make the 3 hour hot round trip in a bus. Shortly after, I suddenly remember the swimming pool and sauna in the hotel. Then I remember I was a Rock Star.

I waved the lads off, totally supporting and respecting the sacrifice they were all making as they crammed into a cattle cart, heads banging, body aching, and stomach churning.Me and our manager George then went for a refreshing swim, and a lovely sauna. We had some beautiful lunch and were just about to have our first ice cold beer of the day as the lads returned. I raised my glass to them as they entered the hotel. “Well in lads”  

We’re all Rock Stars but only I lived like one that day.

Fran

South Korea, A Tale by Simon Hepworth

Early October 2018, Red Rum Club take their first international flight to Seoul. After transfer flight from Qatar airport, and a few sleeping tablets later we arrive at one of the most amazing places we have ever visited. Once we’ve got our luggage - which was easily found due to My brilliant Mickey Mouse suitcase (thanks Mum) we make our way to our apartment luggage and guitars in hand.

This took longer than it should have: road signs and street names that make no

sense to us, people on the street getting asked questions by 7 scousers (some of us still feeling the effects of the sleeping tablets), trying to gauge where we are using 7-eleven shops that happen to be on almost every corner. After what seemed a few hours we find our place, just happened to be next to a Liverpool Bar, which most of the lads were happy about. The apartment had a 70s vibe in design but not in a cool way; the toilet had more buttons than most tv remotes and did more things to our bodies than we’re willing to talk about (if you can’t figure this one out, you haven’t lived).

Fast forward an hour and we’re in the Liverpool bar (we’re very cultured individuals). Neil and I are the ones first in, the barman (who spoke better English than most of our mates) was very excited to speak to lads from Liverpool about one thing - Sadly, he had the only Everton fan of the band, and Me, the lad who when asked what team I support, replies “I like dogs”. We group and venture on to where we’re meeting the people who took us there (Sound City/Modern Sky).

Seoul is a beautiful city there’s no denying that, and the night life is crazy; we got too excited, first time being away and thinking we’re amazing, we drank too much and got a little silly.

On the long staggered journey back to the apartment

Si Hepworth

18 Hours in Sweden

Sweden. Gothenburg.

Our first ever Scandinavian gig but it was always going to be a quick in and out. An afternoon flight on a Saturday means we get to watch the Everton v Chelsea game in an Irish bar in Amsterdam airport on the stopover. Our Tour Manager provided the Ipad and stream, but didn’t provide us with the information that our flight was boarding and gate was closing. A very long but fast run to find the gate to board, 1 extremely angry flight attendant, 200 even angrier passengers. Everton 3, Chelsea 1.

We get picked up at Gothenburg airport and driven straight to the venue to soundcheck. Welcomed in at the side door we get shown to the venue, walk into the main space which is set out like an old theatre, we had already researched it ahead of time and couldn’t wait to play, there was a capacity of 1,800. Our guide quickly escorted us through the main space and said he would show us upstairs to what we thought would be our dressing room. No. a much, much smaller bar. “This is where you guys are playing”, the look on our faces prompted the next question “Did you think you were playing the big room?”.

Turns out the Swedish love us and it was a packed out gig which was the closing party for the Festival. Time for a few expensive beers in celebration and a warning from the tour manager, I’ll be waking you up at 4:30am because we need to leave.

Finally get in bed at 4am, get rudely awakened at 5am by Mike, the van is outside to take us the airport. Tour manager is still asleep in bed.

We spent a total of 18 hours in Gothenburg and didn’t see it in the sunlight. Can’t wait to go back and do it all again but maybe this time, Mike can be the TM.

Neil “The Metronome” Lawson

Lewis Capaldi Cut Our Hair then Ghosted us

Great Escape Festival 2019. We drove down from Birmingham to Brighton in the midst of a UK tour to play Great Escape. We were hungover, tired and stinky.

We parked the van outside the venue and we were given our wristbands. Each of us had a little black Spotify wrist band to get us into the ‘Spotify Artists Lounge’. We hadn’t heard about it before but it sounded important so off we went.

When we arrived we were pleasantly surprised to be met with free food, free alcohol, free massages, free socks, portable phone chargers and flasks... And even a free hair cut, should any of us want it. After several Rum Punches we made a collective decision that Tom needed a haircut.

As Tom sat in the chair making the usual hair cut small talk, one real life fucking Lewis Capaldi walks past the door. Before processing it, or considering that he might want to be left alone, we had already asked him for a picture.

You know when you meet a nice celebrity who is accommodating and gives you the time of day? He took it a step further by coming into the room, picking up the hairdressers scissors and began to cut tom’s hair. Tom couldn’t hide the panic in his face.

Capaldi bottled it once he began and he realised he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. He quickly put the scissors down. we spent a few minutes talking to him. He promised to come to our show that night - he didn’t come and we haven’t spoken to him since. The end. We don’t care anyway. Honestly

Michael McDecent