Where's a band without a roadie to help out on stage...? All right, Fred changes strings halfway a song (I have to check with soundman Edwin what Freds current speed record is), but all other things also inevitably break down sooner or later, on any tour, and a good roadie can help out when a shoulderstrap snaps or a when drum pedal must be replaced mid-song... (or, like I witnessed at a Headcoats show, tell the singer what the first words to a song are...) but even roadies need to take a leak sometimes.
I was eyewitness of the following incident: just as I was changeing a roll of film in the dressingroom, Charlie rushed in and hurried to the john. Some splashing sounds and very relieved sighs... and then a girl named Marieke came in: "Charlie...CHARLIE ! You here?? Toody just broke a string!! I think it's the A..." Next thing we saw was Charlie who did not even zip up properly before sprinting stagewards ("ahw-shiiiiiiiiiiit!"), giving us a quick but clear view of his private parts. A pro paparazzi had probably hadn't missed it but I was still halfway changeing that roll of film... bugger and blast! However, there are some shots of Toody singing "Down The Road" without her bass - behind her amp, Charlie was furiously putting a new string on it. No rest for the wicked...

"You tell 'm Fred..." - "No Edwin, it's your story..." Anyway: picture a restaurant in what used to be called 'gloomy Eastern Europe' somewhere. The restaurant's not really posh, but most definitely classy. On the table is a plastic bottle of tomato ketchup, a substance that comes in handy when levelling 'foreign' food to 'decent' American standards - not necessarily a Dead Moon habit, this - and that particular bottle of tomato ketchup does not cooperate.
Fred starts squeezing it first. Nothing happens. Squeezes it with more strength and determination... nope. There is nothing obviously wrong with the darn thing, but there's no ketchup coming out either! What do you do in such cases, after having tried with all your might? Correct: you turn to your tour manager. "Edwin... here, you give it a try!"
Edwin is a very friendly guy. Not easily upset. Steady as a rock. Solves anything smoothly... but not this time: the bloody ketchup bottle doesn't give in. In a final attempt, Edwin decides to throw in all the strength he's got and - BANG!!! The whole thing just explodes and ketchup is everywhere.
On the table. On the floor. On the walls... on the ceiling...! "So, this waiter comes running... with a napkin !" - "We all started cleaning up the mess... oh man, it was fuckin' all over the place!" - "We used towels, everything..." - "...and they were so awfully nice about it!" - "Oh, yeah, but we tipped them like heavily!"

Yeah, yeah, yeah. The "rock star smashes up hotel room" bit, you know the routine. But can you actually imagine Toody throwing a TV outta the window for kicks? Neither could we. Nevertheless, after one tour, Paperclip agency in Holland received a spicey bill from a hotel. Dead Moon, that rock band, had trashed a hotel room in true rock'n'roll style. The whole 'custard pie on the walls', 'cigarette butts leaving burning stains on the carpet' thing. Paperclip refused to believe this was done by Dead Moon, but the hotel was dead certain: it was them, no doubt in the world ! A slightly worried Ruud, from Paperclip, phoned and faxed to make sure... like, 'are you guys sure that nothing, I mean...?' Maybe some people having a drunk party at Andrew's room while he was sleeping..? The answer was loud and clear: NO WAY. Ruud phoned the hotel staff again - and this time they made a double-check that made clear that, erm, yes, well, sorry, there had been a mix-up, and errmmm... they had falsely assumed that it had been these strange rock'n'rollers... terribly sorry!