Our first ever UK show was live on television. Scary shit.
We played as part of an event called Played In Chelsea, which is showcasing the bands who provide the music for the constructed-reality TV show Made In Chelsea (yes, your guilty pleasure, we know you watch it). They have a fantastic soundtrack (which won them a BAFTA) and picked us to be on it (so technically we won a BAFTA, too, just saying).
The team was incredibly friendly and kept us calm so we didn’t melt before the cameras. And the crowd, as they all know, was NOT a TV crowd but loads of real fans who turned up. Thank you so much for an amazing evening and a beautiful welcome to the UK. We’ll be back very soon.
Photo by Ben Mercer.
Can’t believe it. Two massive festivals confirmed.
Lots more great news coming soon.
Happy Birthday, Simon.
Photo by Friedrich.
Half of us healthy, the other half… not so much, we proceeded to Münster. We played here aaaages ago and had a very good time, but we really weren’t very good back then, so we wanted to show off some of our new moves.
We went bowling because sport = endorphins, and they are the first step on the road to health, apparently.
Thank you so much for bearing with us and letting us have an amazing time. We’ll come back after Berlin has nursed us back to good health.
Pierre losing, terribly.
Photo from instagram.com/lauraemiliabateau
This was a lot bigger than we thought it would be. All of us managed the grand feat of ALL being ill, ALL having the flu, and ALL trying to act human by the time we got out of our quarantine, sorry, tourbus.
We played in a big blue circus tent, alongside a dutch (flemish? Not sure) band called SX. Check them out.
After having an amazing time - thanks for the welcome, Maastricht! - we retired to our hospital ward/hotel in Belgium.
Photo from instagram.com/robingrouwels
Photo from instagram.com/mdsurfer
This was probably the tiniest venue we’ve played in since a mini-show in St. Gallen. But just as amazing! We played on a collection of persian rugs in the middle of a room, surrounded by people and lights, and by the end it everyone was stamping on our pedals and dropping drinks on drums. A good start.
Photo by Daphne Huber (instragam.com/daphneehuber)
Plauen during the day is very, very quiet. The wheels of our suitcases echoed across the high street as we walked towards the hotel, the only audible thing other than a tram rolling up the hill and birds tweeting at each other in the trees. People watched us as we talked in whispers as to not stick out too much. Tumbleweed rolled across our path (well, it didn’t, but that sounds more interesting).
In the evening, however, it gets loud. The Rampa Zampa Festival appears to be an island in the vast ocean which is the silent town of Plauen. And despite the thunderstorm we had a huge mass of people before the stage. Everything got wet. I even poured enough water to fill a bucket out of his synthesiser. Good times.
This was a really, really fun festival. Ever been to Rocken am Brocken? Just like that. Just as cool and done with just as much Herzblut. Except it was raining like when we played Rocken am Brocken, and this time no-one thought that lightning was going to strike us on stage and kill us and stuff, so it was a lot more relaxed.
And no, we didn’t take the water pistol, we accidentally stole a tambourine, though. Please write to us at: I Heart Sharks, The Big Blue Sea, The Earth, and we’ll try to get it back to you.