R
retroussé nose
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Hi all. This is a translation of a very entertaining story in the April issue of the Finnish music rag 'Soundi'. It's a record company person called Petteri Palkoaho reminiscing about the time he spent chaperoning The Smiths when they came to Finland in 1984. They played at a festival called Provinssirock on June 2, 1984.
Sorry, can't scan the original.
Tea, toast and scrambled eggs
“Back in the day, Rough Trade were represented by Poko Records in Finland. Getting The Smiths to play the Provinssirock festival was the brainchild of Tapio Korjus, but, as he was already busy looking after Rory Gallagher, I promised to collect the English band from the airport at Seutula and take them up to Seinäjoki. This proved to be one memorable journey.
I met them at the airport and after minor initial hassles we made it into town (Helsinki). They were obviously very hungry, so I cleverly thought of storing their gear at the railway station for easy retrieval for when we would be catching the Botnia Express train for Ostrobothnia later on. They had a hell of a lot of gear. They obviously thought there was nothing at all here.
So, they were stood in front of the station looking all amazed. I think for a few of them it must have been their first overseas trip. I asked them what they would like to eat and told them you could have really good Russian food in Helsinki. But no, they didn’t want any of that. They wanted scrambled eggs, toast and tea.
Well, do you think there is any scrambled eggs or toast to be had in Helsinki on a Saturday evening in 1984? Of course not. We went to at least three restaurants around the railway station but none of them offered anything like that.
We ended up in the Omenapuu restaurant in Makkaratalo, where I was desperately trying to plead with the head waiter to serve these jug-eared foreigners scrambled eggs and toast as nothing else would do. At first he told me to go to hell. I insisted scrambled eggs was what we were having, no matter the cost. He eventually gave in and told us to take a seat.
When the food arrived everyone was over the moon and saying how wonderful Finnish food was. In fact, they were so ecstatic we very nearly missed our train. The whole platform was chock-full of people, including loads of Interrail tourists carting their stuff along. I thought, that’s it – we’ll never make it.
Panicking, I explained the situation to the traffic controller who agreed to delay the train for five minutes. After a frantic rush we made it, only to find ourselves at the wrong end of the long train. We had to walk through the whole long Botnia Express with all the gear. The train was full of drunk losers and assorted hicks. You can imagine the sort of crowd that would travel to Oulu and Rovaniemi by train on a Saturday night in the 80s.
Once we’d finally made it to our first class seats, Morrissey said that he was still a bit hungry. I said, “Hang on, I’ll come to the canteen with you once I’ve got the gear stowed and I’m sure we’ve got everything”. Morrissey said he was a man of the people and that he wanted to go by himself.
So, he was gone, and we must have been in Hämeenlinna when he finally returned, looking triumphant. In one hand he had a paper cup containing tea from a sorry Lipton tea bag; in the other, a meat pie. I was a bit bemused – wasn’t this guy meant to be vegetarian?
He then started sniffing at the pie and looked bewildered. Finally he asked what it was as it smelled funny. When I told him it was a meat pie he nearly fainted and dropped the pie on the floor. We then had to clean up the mess, tomato sauce and all.
After the meat pie incident Morrissey lost any interest in acquainting himself with either the strange people of Finland or the train. He spent the remainder of the journey reading or watching the scenery.
Next up, Johnny Marr wanted a beer, and this wasn’t a problem. The English will always be happy as long as there’s beer. Marr was a terrific bloke, too. Even during the worst mishaps he just smiled a mournful smile, shrugged his shoulders and said, “we’re English”.
Morrissey gave quite a nice impression, as well. He did seem very sensitive and introverted. He somehow seemed very unsure of everything. The other two didn’t leave much of an impression, apart from obviously having developed quite a liking for all aspects of the rock’n’roll lifestyle.
Most of the train journey was taken up with marvelling at the forest landscape and the appearances of the Finns. At some point after having passed Tampere their manager woman wanted to discuss things. She asked if it was definitely going to be dark at 6 pm on Sunday evening. She said The Smiths would only play after dark.
I was perplexed and said, “I don’t think so”. It’s hardly ever dark around here in the summertime. Some heavy discussion ensued and I ended up saying, “In Seinäjoki it will get dark at the end of August. Go ahead and play then, if you like.”
Well, she obviously didn’t believe me, and the rest of the trip was spent bickering over it. When we finally got to the Sorsanpesä hotel and had unloaded all the stuff, she asked what time it was. I told her it was very much midnight. She and Morrissey looked at each other for a bit and had a brief discussion in hushed tones. She then said that of course The Smiths would be playing at 6 pm.
The gig eventually went really well. I thought they did a great job. As was to be expected, the gig was preceded by yet another hairy situation, when it proved difficult to find the right variety and colour of flower in Seinäjoki to suit Morrissey’s jean pocket. A grown man’s whole workday was spent trying to sort out the flower situation.”
Sorry, can't scan the original.
Tea, toast and scrambled eggs
“Back in the day, Rough Trade were represented by Poko Records in Finland. Getting The Smiths to play the Provinssirock festival was the brainchild of Tapio Korjus, but, as he was already busy looking after Rory Gallagher, I promised to collect the English band from the airport at Seutula and take them up to Seinäjoki. This proved to be one memorable journey.
I met them at the airport and after minor initial hassles we made it into town (Helsinki). They were obviously very hungry, so I cleverly thought of storing their gear at the railway station for easy retrieval for when we would be catching the Botnia Express train for Ostrobothnia later on. They had a hell of a lot of gear. They obviously thought there was nothing at all here.
So, they were stood in front of the station looking all amazed. I think for a few of them it must have been their first overseas trip. I asked them what they would like to eat and told them you could have really good Russian food in Helsinki. But no, they didn’t want any of that. They wanted scrambled eggs, toast and tea.
Well, do you think there is any scrambled eggs or toast to be had in Helsinki on a Saturday evening in 1984? Of course not. We went to at least three restaurants around the railway station but none of them offered anything like that.
We ended up in the Omenapuu restaurant in Makkaratalo, where I was desperately trying to plead with the head waiter to serve these jug-eared foreigners scrambled eggs and toast as nothing else would do. At first he told me to go to hell. I insisted scrambled eggs was what we were having, no matter the cost. He eventually gave in and told us to take a seat.
When the food arrived everyone was over the moon and saying how wonderful Finnish food was. In fact, they were so ecstatic we very nearly missed our train. The whole platform was chock-full of people, including loads of Interrail tourists carting their stuff along. I thought, that’s it – we’ll never make it.
Panicking, I explained the situation to the traffic controller who agreed to delay the train for five minutes. After a frantic rush we made it, only to find ourselves at the wrong end of the long train. We had to walk through the whole long Botnia Express with all the gear. The train was full of drunk losers and assorted hicks. You can imagine the sort of crowd that would travel to Oulu and Rovaniemi by train on a Saturday night in the 80s.
Once we’d finally made it to our first class seats, Morrissey said that he was still a bit hungry. I said, “Hang on, I’ll come to the canteen with you once I’ve got the gear stowed and I’m sure we’ve got everything”. Morrissey said he was a man of the people and that he wanted to go by himself.
So, he was gone, and we must have been in Hämeenlinna when he finally returned, looking triumphant. In one hand he had a paper cup containing tea from a sorry Lipton tea bag; in the other, a meat pie. I was a bit bemused – wasn’t this guy meant to be vegetarian?
He then started sniffing at the pie and looked bewildered. Finally he asked what it was as it smelled funny. When I told him it was a meat pie he nearly fainted and dropped the pie on the floor. We then had to clean up the mess, tomato sauce and all.
After the meat pie incident Morrissey lost any interest in acquainting himself with either the strange people of Finland or the train. He spent the remainder of the journey reading or watching the scenery.
Next up, Johnny Marr wanted a beer, and this wasn’t a problem. The English will always be happy as long as there’s beer. Marr was a terrific bloke, too. Even during the worst mishaps he just smiled a mournful smile, shrugged his shoulders and said, “we’re English”.
Morrissey gave quite a nice impression, as well. He did seem very sensitive and introverted. He somehow seemed very unsure of everything. The other two didn’t leave much of an impression, apart from obviously having developed quite a liking for all aspects of the rock’n’roll lifestyle.
Most of the train journey was taken up with marvelling at the forest landscape and the appearances of the Finns. At some point after having passed Tampere their manager woman wanted to discuss things. She asked if it was definitely going to be dark at 6 pm on Sunday evening. She said The Smiths would only play after dark.
I was perplexed and said, “I don’t think so”. It’s hardly ever dark around here in the summertime. Some heavy discussion ensued and I ended up saying, “In Seinäjoki it will get dark at the end of August. Go ahead and play then, if you like.”
Well, she obviously didn’t believe me, and the rest of the trip was spent bickering over it. When we finally got to the Sorsanpesä hotel and had unloaded all the stuff, she asked what time it was. I told her it was very much midnight. She and Morrissey looked at each other for a bit and had a brief discussion in hushed tones. She then said that of course The Smiths would be playing at 6 pm.
The gig eventually went really well. I thought they did a great job. As was to be expected, the gig was preceded by yet another hairy situation, when it proved difficult to find the right variety and colour of flower in Seinäjoki to suit Morrissey’s jean pocket. A grown man’s whole workday was spent trying to sort out the flower situation.”
