Fab 1

Sunday saw us hot footing it down to Hyde Park for 'Hard Rock Calling'...50,000 people (including me and Fi)...and some bloke called Paul McCartney. It was hot...hot beyond belief...the afternoon started with Elvis Costello. Unfortunately for Elvis he had to compete with England v Germany which in the wisdom of the organisers was shown on the big screen while Elvis worked his socks off....Now I've performed to many a disinterested audience...but none have roared with excitement in the middle of one of my biggest hits because England have scored...fortunately I've never had a biggest hit and fortunately for Elvis England only scored once.

Crowded House had the unenviable task of lifting the 20, 000 crowd who were now collectively 4 - 1 down and fed up. But let’s be honest - sun, beer and always take the weather is such a winning combination that Footie suddenly seems like a pointless kick about between 22 overpaid teenagers. (I'm not bitter about England crashing out of course)
Crosby Stills and Nash looked like we expected...but bless 'em, they sounded like heaven (bearing in mind we had consumed large quantities of beer by now - all in the name of staying cool and hydrated...yeah I know)
Then the man came on. The big Macca. Well if I had a back catalogue that included most of the 60's and 70's greatest hits I'd be confident...besides I've always been a Lennon and Harrison man...I mean they never wrote the Frog song....but eat my hat, sit on my hands, consume large quantities humble pie...he rocked, he rolled, he blew 20, 000 people away. He sang with a band, he sang on his own, he delivered hit after hit after hit after....after all, he was one of the f'ing Beatles...

Cats and Dogs

It rained cats and dogs on us when we arrived on the English Riviera, as it's called.  I'm sure when the sun shines it is like an English Riviera. When it's raining cats and dogs it just looks like the usual English seaside town...grey and dull. I should know - I was born in one. After we travelled to the English Riviera we travelled to Birmingham which is supposed to look grey and miserable but then the sun came out and cheered us up immensely. I should point out that I'm on tour again. Have mixing desk, Apple and needles - will travel. It seems odd that a year ago travelling with needles and injecting in dressing rooms and strange hotel rooms seemed worthy of concern. Perhaps it's a sign perhaps of how quickly we adapt to things. What once seemed new and intimidating is now second nature....Sling the meds in a bag and off we go. I travel alot all things considered...something which surprises people. Is that a good idea they will say....with your condition. I think it's a brilliant idea. I have two young children at home who fight like cats and dogs.

Light and Heavy

Dizzyness has continued on and off...there is something very disconcerting about waking up dizzy...inevitably Vic Reeves gets stuck in my head which makes a change from Bruce Springsteen but when all said and done I'd probably prefer the boss with his wooohoho I'm on fire sensation to feeling like I've fallen over in a drunken heap at 8 in the morning. I checked in with the GP (it's never the same GP twice) who on reading I was on a trial for MS drugs and that I was feeling light headed asked if the marijuana was helping the MS. Chance would be a fine thing. When I explained that it was just chinese hamsters via thrice weekly injection he seemed to lose all interest...Oh well, I shall stick with Vic Reeves until the good folk at clinical research can check me out at the end of the month...

On a lighter note we spent the weekend doing exactly what I shouldn't do...overdoing it. The family all went down to Greenwich for the Jazz and Beer festival. There wasn't much jazz but the beer made up for it. In fact the Brand New Heavies headlined and the girls insited on being up the front, leaning on the barriers. Security man - who Fiona said looked like Bruce Willis - was on hand to reassure us that if the crush got too much and we started to feel light headed...well that was all I needed, being manhandled over the barriers by John McCain having fainted at a 90's revival gig. It's hard bloody work this MS.