Dio Tour Review

by Michael Larkin Photos by Mr B

Thursday Night

Going into university with a weeks worth of clothing and a sleeping bag may look ridiculous, but it was absolutely necessary as I was getting ready to embark on an epic journey – a four day Dio long weekend!  Of course there will always be people who feel that embarking on such a journey to watch a “fading” rock star is sheer madness. Luckily for me however I was not going to see a fading rock star, I was going to see the finest Dio band for many, many years.  Oh, and Alice Cooper.

Spending all day in a library studying for an exam is not the most fun way to spend one’s time.  It is even less fun when you receive a phone call from your touring buddy to inform you that he will be working late and will not be picking you up until nine o’clock at night!  Filling out those hours was helped by free Internet access and the knowledge that the local liquor store was only a small walk away.  At long last nine o’clock came…

…and went.  Just where the hell was Paul?  Despite numerous phone calls all I could get was an answering machine.  Not good.  When I finally heard from Paul and he told me that “he will be up in fifteen minutes or so.  Luckily enough for me that would coincide with library closing time.

After hanging around outside the library for half an hour, in the freezing cold, Paul finally arrived.  After hearing his frankly lame excuse I decided (against my better judgement) not to give him a taste of fist.  With an open road ahead and numerous Dio CDs to entertain us we were finally on our way.  Yippee!

Friday

Friday began as Thursday ended – with Paul and I in a car, shooting down a motorway.  After a short stop at an all night service station Paul finally got to hear the remastered edition of “Rainbow: On Stage.”  This was memorable for two reasons.  Firstly my companion enjoyed the rendition of “Catch The Rainbow” so much that he was at one point doing well over one hundred miles per hour.  Secondly, during a particularly powerful vocal run on “Still I’m Sad” Paul’s jaw literally dropped!  Great stuff.

After a particularly uncomfortable nights sleep we woke up to see that there was finally some life in the small English cul-de-sac which had been our home for the evening.  Embarrassingly steamed-up windows and fear of arrest ensured that we made a hasty exit.

After a long drive in which we were entertained by “Ronnie Dio and The Prophets,” we finally arrived at Wembley Arena.  A run down eyesore it was hardly an awe inspiring sight.  Once I had enquired about the guest list I received a phone call from the notorious Kilgore Trout, aka Steve Colligan.  After arranging to meet up later Paul and myself had a little tour of the surrounding area.

When I finally met Steve I greeted him with a warm handshake.  “She isn’t that fat Steve.”  I told him after seeing his girlfriend.  Unfortunately the man whom I greeted with such aplomb was not Steve.  It was in fact Norris, a council worker from down the road, who is waiting to be picked up on his way to the Spurs match.

When I finally met Steve I greeted him with a warm handshake. “You weren’t kidding,” I told him after seeing his girlfriend.  After the initial pleasantries were finished with we made our way to the local bar, “The Nags Head.” 

Steve “pool shark” Colligan did no harm to Anglo-Scot relations by asking us for a friendly game of pool.  After numerous thrashings I finally allowed to Steve win by purposely potting the black.  It was the least I could do, as Steve turned out to be such a jolly nice chap.  The day was going well, and on our way back to the Arena we met none other than Simon “short-arse” Wright, who’s crafty cockney patter kept us amused for all of five minutes. 

Arguably the scariest part of the trip was meeting some disturbingly hard-core Israeli fans.  During a discussion which included such gems of polite conversation as “Appice is the best drummer… Powell is dead,” we got the distinct impression that it was not the best idea to disagree with our new friends.  I also decided that I wouldn’t make any joking inferences that Ozzy was better than our beloved Ronnie.  After all, life is too short as it is!

After waiting for roughly an hour in the guest list queue we finally got our tickets and my photo pass.  The tickets we bought were of superior quality though, so we used those instead.  Sprinting into the arena just as “Sunset Superman” was kicking in it was with great pleasure that I walked down to the front and pulled out the ol’ photo pass.  As I walked out to the front of the stage I got a thumbs up from The Man himself, which made the trip worthwhile in itself.  Getting a number of decent shots, including one of excellent quality I decided to retire to my seat to enjoy the show.

Unfortunately on my return I find that Paul has disappeared.  As I got more and more bored sitting amongst the poe-faced Alice Cooper fans I decided to head to the front, where a nice pocket of Dio fans had gathered to show their appreciation for another excellent performance from the lads.  Down the front also happened to be where I met up with old Gibbo again.  During a commanding performance we were treated to the likes of “Holy Diver,” “Fever Dreams” and of course the brilliant, the wonderful, the absolutely fantastic “Heaven And Hell.”  Such a powerful display, coupled with the fact that superfans like Debbie Seymore were in attendance, guaranteed that much fisting from the crowd accompanied the set.

When the set was over we retired to the lobby, where we all shared a celebratory drink.  I also took pictures of the lads (and lassies) for future reference (and blackmailing purposes).  We chatted for a while and I popped in to watch Alice every now and again.  If anybody wants to know what I think of Alice they can look at my reviews at www.heavymetaluk.com as I am not going to waste valuable column inches for him.

Anyway after the show we scampered round the back.  Why we scampered I have no idea because, as usual, it was ages before Ronnie came out.  The London show was attended by such luminaries as Brian May (who waved), Metallica (who didn’t) and, er, Girl School.

When Ronnie finally came out (after a false alarm when we thought he had escaped in Craig Goldy’s holdall) he was the worse for wear after an evening of intense drinking.  Charming as ever, albeit in a slightly drunken way, Ronnie signed autographs, posed for photos and generally acted like an all-round gentleman.  Unfortunately my jinxed camera ran out of power when I tried to take a photo for Steve, but other than that a perfect end to a perfect night.

Saturday

At long last we were finally on our way to sheep country, much to my delight may I add!  Cardiff itself was a beautiful city, full of lovely architecture and boasting an arena that put Wembley to shame.  Time was a little tighter tonight, so I was hard pushed to get batteries for my camera, write my review of the first show and get back in time to get my tickets from the car…

… only my tickets were not in the car.  Which was strange because I was sure that I had left them in my jacket pocket.  Luckily I had tickets waiting for me at the box office or I would have been in real trouble.  Here is a conundrum – if I had not got the tickets from Ira I would not have got into the show, but if I had not been messing around with extra tickets, photo passes and cameras then I would not have lost my tickets.  It is a funny old world eh?

After another amazing show, both from Dio and their support act Alice Cooper, Paul and I decided to get some stuff for signing before going to our first ever Dio after show party.  On our way down we also got a call from a Cooper roadie who had found my tickets.  The moral of the story is that if you are going to lose something, always make sure that you leave a contact address with it!

When we got back we strolled up to the security guard and asked them about the aftershow party.    When we were told the aftershow party was over we were rather miffed.  After lots of manoeuvring we finally got told… that we would not be getting in under any circumstances.

After hanging around for hours I finally got my tickets and, of course, RJD came out to do some signing.  While this is usually the best part of the night tonight it seemed rather hollow.  After taking a rather amusing shot of Paul saying to Ronnie “Can this guy not work a …(flash)” two rather disgruntled Dio fans retired for the night at a quiet service station.

Sunday

After the complete shambles that was Cardiff I decided that I would go for the sympathy vote.  When we arrived at Birmingham at the majestic NEC, on a day where the sun was splitting the trees, I decided to get in there early and give Dio’s tour manager, Ira Seigal, the bottle of malt whiskey I had intended to present to him the previous night.  Of course I was also hoping that such a blatant display of toadying would score me another guest pass.

Following a rather long walk (the Birmingham NEC is quite a size) Paul said that if we did not see the bus soon we should give up and come back later.  Sure enough just as he said that we saw a familiar bright yellow bus.  After hanging around for a while, and after trying to talk to some particularly ignorant Alice staff, some Dio roadies finally emerged from the stage door.  Following some fast-talking I was told that they would try and get Ira for me.  I wondered why it was possible to get someone when you wished to give them a gift when, in contrast, you can never get a hold of someone when they owe you cash.

When Ira finally emerged I gave him a Bell’s Whiskey miniature.  He was pleased when I gave him this, so you can imagine how pleased he was when I gave him the large bottle of single malt whiskey.  After an enjoyable conversation in which I learned that the great Barry Maniloe is in fact an asshole, Ira hinted that he may not be able to get us passes.  I decided to play it cool and not put any pressure on the guy.  After all it was our fault we missed the party.

Later on we met up with old cohort Steve.  After telling him about the previous nights events we were met with both sympathy and ridicule – “Oooh! That’s really unfair… you stupid tossers!”

Of course we had the last laugh because, after another lengthy wait, I received an envelope containing two tickets, a photo pass…

…AND TWO AFTERSHOW GUEST PASSES!  After a great show (with the worst crowd in the planet, indeed they made the Semisonic crowd seem animated), for which I cheekily used my photo pass to get a front row seat, Paul and I nipped backstage and waited in line for the greatest experience of my life.  Yes it was even better than, em, everything else I have ever done.  Yes, even that!

Of course meeting Ronnie properly and talking to him for something like an hour all in was the best part of the night.  But it was all of the extras, such as getting Craig Goldy to open my beer and finding out that Scott Warren is a really great bloke, which made it all the greater.  In fact Scott Warren is now one of my favourite musicians purely because he was such a fine man to talk to.  Oh and I finally found out the answer to THE question – why did Rainbow fade out Stargazer?  OK “we couldn’t think of a good way to end it” was not the earth shattering answer I was expecting, but at least that question will not bug me for the rest of my life.  Oh, and I met Lemmy!  That was very, very cool.

Anyway after the party (which was the greatest, did I mention that?) I met up with Steve for the last time of the tour.  After a hearty discussion on Sunset Superman (it is not poppy) and numerous other things we bid each other a fond farewell.  A nice end to a very nice night

Monday

Well the last day of my Dio tour and it meant a return to the country I call home – good old Scotland.  Still in good spirits from the previous night there was also the depressing knowledge that our long weekend would soon be over.  Of course we intended to go out on a high note and we had a look around Edinburgh (and Paul bought RJD a bottle of scotch) before returning to the grand old Edinburgh Playhouse, a small venue that guaranteed a good amount of intimacy.

Once the preliminaries were dealt with it was once again time for Dio to hit the stage.  It was also once again time for me to use my photo pass to blag a front row seat.  This time there was no barrier of any kind and I was actually leaning on the stage for the entire show.  Perhaps the best part of the show on a personal level was when Ronnie recognised me then came over and shook my hand.  You can imagine Paul’s face from several rows back when he saw this!

When the show was finally over we were lucky enough to catch RJD and chums at the rear of the theatre.  Having a pleasant chat with Simon and Scott whilst RJD was chatting to the other fans helped me realise just what a great bunch of musicians Ronnie has assembled, not just from the music standpoint but also as people.  Handshakes, hugs and finally a picture with Ron helped to end the day, and of course the tour, on a high note.

After driving home with Paul, and my mate Shaun who came along to the Edinburgh gig, we finally parted ways.  Not before we listened to more Dio and had a retrospective chat on our adventure though.  In fact this was a fine way to end the weekend, as it helped to solidify our experiences nicely.  As a man with a bizarre taste in headgear once told me though “all good things must come to an end.”  Thanks for those words of wisdom George!

Conclusion

Well hopefully you now know how much fun the UK Dio tour was, at least for me.  If not I think I have to do a bit more work on my writing.  Hopefully you will have had as much fun reading this diary as I had writing it.  Just don’t quote me on any of this, OK!

Sadly all I have to look forward to now, at least in the short term, is T in the Park.  The problem is that when I am watching the likes of Texas, Stereophonics and all of the other usually enjoyable bands I will have to try not to compare them to Dio.  Sadly there is only one Dio and one vocalist called Ronnie James Dio.  Mind you, if every band were as good as Dio it would all get a bit boring, wouldn’t it?