Alexander Kapranos

Tokyo

2004-12-07T17:19:40Z

Hello everybody, it's me, Bob.

I'm typing from Tokyo where I'm still recovering from a stomach bug. I'm well on the road to recovery and am flying out to New York tomorrow morning to join the band for the show in New Jersey on Friday.

I'm going to miss the first two shows of the U.S. tour but have deputised Toshi, of the Fiery Furnaces, for bass playing duties. I'm sorry to miss the shows in Detroit and Philadelphia but if I'd have left the hospital too early there was a good chance my illness would have worsened again and might have ended up back in hospital somewhere in the U.S., probably missing even more shows.

I'm looking forward to re-joining the tour on Friday and am sure that the temporary Bob-less line-up will be fantastic. I wish I was there to see it.

Thank you for all your messages of support.

Best Wishes,

Bob.

franz_diary @ 2004-08-04T06:17:00

2004-08-09T04:23:45Z

I'm on the bus heading for the airport, slightly hungover, driving over some stunning bridges, passing a ferris wheel, apartment blocks, a glistening chemical plant, a barge with a guy shovelling a pyramid of earth on it, a car that looks like it's built from lego, a guy driving a truck on a bright red mobile phone. It all seems ordered and familiar, however. I enjoyed Lost In Translation. It caught the jet-lagged emptiness of travelling so well, but I think it makes Tokyo seem more alien that it actually is.

On Sunday we had a day off. We jumped on the tube to the palace gardens, then to Shibuya, the dense commercial district. Bob went to a part of town where teenagers go on a Sunday and dress up in different outfits. A popular theme is 'raped schoolgirl'. This involves a dishevelled and torn uniform, tousled hair, smeared lipstick and fake blood. They pose for the paedophiles who like to take their photographs. Apparently. I didn't see it myself. I did see someone with the most impressive quiff I have ever seen, however. Emerging from a mohican, it must have been over two feet long.

The toys here are exceptional. Paul found what has to be the best example. It's a panda. Well, a robot panda with wings. Robot wings. The top of it's head snaps open to reveal another panda inside. It's not clear if it's another robot panda or just a panda. The panda has a couple of levers in it's hands, controlling the brain of the big panda. There are a lot of western themed bars and restaurants. Mos Burger is possibly the biggest fast food chain. It's Japanese in the way that MnS sushi isn't. You can get a teryaki chicken burger or a rice burger, which has two cakes of rice instead of a roll, and a shredded filling of gingery beef. If you have to, there's a cheeseburger, but where's the fun in that?

Yesterday, we spent the whole day doing interviews etc. In the evening we went to a restaurant with some friends. They were very excited. 'Can you see what it is?' they asked as we walked upstairs to the wooden balcony. Recognition snapped into place and I realised we were on the set of Kill Bill, in the room where the 5678's play and Uma Thurman goes slicing. Again, the food was astounding. The visual highlight was brought to the table, wriggling like a sea anemone's tentacles. The dish appeared to be alive, but was actually potato dumplings that were topped with extremely delicate wafers of fish skin. The warmth of the dumplings wafted the fish, making them move. There was hot and cold sake. The cold tasted like chardonnay.

After the meal, the girls we were with initiated a drinking competition, then completely destroyed us. One girl called Yoko, slightly built and gentle looking, could open her mouth then pour a pint of beer down her throat without swallowing. I've only ever known girls to be good at this kind of thing. Most guys, even the biggest of lumbering rugby players, just gulp, gasp and slobber as the froth falls down their chins. Personally, I reckon my tonsils are too big. After we were defeated, they took us to a karaoke bar. I'm still hoarse today. I started with Don't Stop Me now, appropriately. Bob's rendition of Supercalifragilisticexpealidotious, or Paul's No Scrubs may have been the highlights, although Laurence Bell's Cheap Trick numbers were pretty good too, especially when he fell through a table. A few people did Take Me Out. The backing track sounded like one of those ringtones you can get for phones. The funniest bit was the video, though. They're always inappropriate. This one had a Japanese couple proposing on a beach in soft focus, the engagement ring glistening on the finger as the last notes died. Almost what I had in my head when writing the lyrics. Some of the guys from The Libertines turned up and we sang Up The Bracket. Then they stuck TMO on again. By this time I had drank away all remnants of self-consciousness, social awkwardness, taste or decency and decided to sing it. It was exactly the same as doing Top Of The Pops or CD:UK, when only the vocal is live. Well, almost.

I'm on the plane back to London now. It's loaded with indie. I can see Belle and Sebastian, Graham Coxon and various others from where I'm sitting. Everyone's returning from Fuji Rock. That was one hell of a festival. You can see the mountains behind the audience as you play. We did some interviews and as we were walking between places we were absolutely mobbed. It's the nearest to Beatlemania we've ever experienced. In fact, when we arrived at the hotel, there were several people already there waiting for us and our autographs. It's happened a few times before, but never to this extent. There was lots of picture taking too. There's a little ritual every with every shot - the photographer says "three, two, one, GO!", then takes the picture. Often the countdown is accompanied by the fingers of one hand illustrating the action. There was a guy this morning who was very nice, but a little more zealous than anyone else. I was in the foyer of the hotel and realised that I'd left something I needed in my case. I'd packed in a bit of a hurry this morning and the contents were a bit of a dishevelled mess, stale stage clothes amongst unwashed socks, so I pulled it behind a screen for a little privacy. As I was rummaging amongst the musty tour detritus, I heard a voice behind me...

"Three, two, one, GO!"

This guy was a real completist.

franz_diary @ 2004-07-26T15:42:00

2004-07-26T19:13:18Z

We flew in a helicopter over Auckland today. There are a lot of volcanoes on little islands around the bay. We played Can't Stop Feeling in the sound check. I think it's almost ready to play live. Not quite, which is a shame, as I would have liked to have played it tonight.

franz_diary @ 2004-07-03T21:17:00

2004-07-26T19:08:01Z

We're about to leave the Werchter festival. I can't believe these audiences- they're insatiable. Standing on stage, drowned out by the sound they make, it sometimes feels that they're entertaining us as much as we are entertaining them. I was standing next to the big singer guy from the Wu Tang Clan in the queue for catering, discussing what looked the tastiest on the menu. It reminded me of standing next to Darren Wardlaw in the school dinners queue, discussing whether the bridle or the scotch pie was the better choice. Never the sausage roll, though. The fragments of bone were always a no no. Darren was the kid who hit puberty and six feet about five years before anyone else. I was not. The Clan had loads of guys on stage. I can't work out if they're all Clansmen or just pals that have come along for a laugh. Loads of guys waving flags which looks good. The music had some great moments, amazing bass-lines and beats, but their clothes are so ill-fitting I had to stop watching after a while. I watched a bit of The Black Eyed Peas too and was very impressed that they play completely live. I, wrongly, presumed they'd have backing stuff on tape, but they were just a good band. Very angry about something, though. I can't work out what. What have they got to whinge about? They sell truck-loads of records. They have a distinctly priviliged lifestyle. What could possible be wrong? Maybe it's a political thing that I'm too thick to understand. I hope so. The girl that sings did some amazing one-handed cartwheels. Sparks have a good song about not understanding why bands are so angry on their new record. I missed Joss Stone. Apparently they're a covers band. I didn't know that.

Muse are playing in the background now. I wasn't allowed up to the side of the stage to watch, so I don't think I'm VIP enough to stand in the VIP area. They do sound epic, however. I was listening to Westminster Affair by the Monochrome Set in bed last night. Now, there's a band that never had the recognition they deserved. Eine Symphonie, Jet Set Junta. He's Frank- superb songwriting. So many bands forget about that bit. It's not just about sound, image or attitude. They're secondary, tertiary- not irrelevant, but not that important.

Paul's going to write a treatment for his fantasy video. It will be set on board a hospital ship, so we will have to wear sailor outfits and be surrounded by nurses. Reading the KW diaries, I'm reminded that a diary like this will never be as entertaining as that, as the really personal and slanderous stuff is left out. I keep that in my private diary. I'll be dead before anyone reads that. He even kept a note of every Barclay's