Tired, sick and alone.

I feel pretty sick and the idea was that I would stay in the apartment for the day resting up and maybe doing a little work on this blog. Later, around 6pm I would be collected to go to the second day of rehearsals, after that, something to eat and then we are off for me to do a sepecial DJ session where I attempt to keep the dancing going that will already be happening when I arrive, with a selection of my favourite tunes. Then I am to take the stage with a local Brazilian band when they do Wake Up and Kick Out The Tories with me doing the singing.

It turned out somewhat different to that. I had just finished my latest blog entry, which was following on from a bit of a cliff hanger and was just about to hit 'Send' when an almighty thunder and lightning storm hit Sao Paulo like some apocalyptic reckoning. It started with throwing down what appeared to be the entire contents of the Atlantic Ocean on to our district and then to took out the power to five or six tower blocks including the one I was staying in. I stared at my netbook in the dark, the battery power saving me from 'data loss worse than death' but there was no way I could publish because the Wi Fi was now out.

The lightning was pure shock and awe and ran horizontally across the sky. It is so unlike England where you stare expectantly at the heavens hoping to see the moment it strikes. Here it is a light show that cannot be missed. The other thing is that there is are constant smaller flashes with no sound that happen every second or two. In the darkened apartment I was in, lights dashed across the floor like stray baby bolts misfired from a larger trident. It was only reflective light but as I lay sick and sweating in the dark, if felt like the hairs on my legs were prickling up when ever the light skittered across me.
There is an apartment block directly opposite and very close to me and I as I peered out of the window at the storm I realised that I had hundreds of reality TV shows running simultaneously as the good citizens of these blocks struggled to carry on with every day life with no power. Some lit up bright LED torches and others lit candles. I was admiring the candle lit apartments, thinking how pretty and cosy they looked when it suddenly occurred to me that people in my block may be doing the same thing. Then I thought, if a candle gets knocked over and a fire starts in my block, I don't know where the stairs are to get out.
 I dash to the apartment door and pull it open, I fire up the 'assisted light' in my Samsung S4 an all I can see is a few feet and then a pitch black corridor looking like some horror movie set up. Hmmm, I thought, no emergency lighting. I go back to the window to calm myself by watching residents cut their toe nails by candle light. In one window, an oriental face appears, gazes at me dispassionately and then draw back into the dark, It surprised me at that moment but later I learnt that Brazil has the largest Japanese community outside of Japan itself. I returned to lay back on the bed for a minute, the storm has stopped flashing and now I felt like I was lying in a tomb. In the end, I broke and rang my tour manager Isabela who assured me that they were on their way to pick me up for the rehearsal.
Phew, much relief.

But the worse was yet to come.

They pick me up and we head in another vertigo inducing 'to hell in a handcart ride' to the rehearsal studio. I was feeling pretty rough but nonetheless I was really looking forward to the second rehearsal with this great band. We prepared to play Wake Up, I placed my fingers on the frets and away we went. It has a long intro but when we got to the part where I come in with the vocals...

there was nothing, well, I say nothing but a guttural croak, my voice had gone. It was fine the day before but the heavy cold had gone straight to my vocal chords and wiped them out. The shock could be seen in the faces of the band but we agreed to turn the vocals up and the guitars down. I didn't really want to continue but the band need the extra rehearsal so I sang the songs in a dispirited monotone. In the back of my mind is the thought that the biggest gig of the tour is tomorrow and then we have three consecutive gigs after that and I have no voice and not much opportunity to rest it.

Terror grips me.

When have finished, we leave the studio to get something to eat. On the corner of this rundown street is a small police station and earlier, as we passed it on the way in , me all in black with shades on in the dark, one cop eyed us suspiciously as we paseds. Apparently, they always do this but there is probably an extra edginess in the run up to the World Cup but no problem, we are soon past him.
On the way out however, we all tumble down the stairs and out into the street and I become aware that I was the only one with a tin of beer in my hand and a glance at the cop told me he was watching us. Now I have no idea if the authorities here at touchy about drinking beer in the streets but no-one in our group is telling me to conceal it but, conceal it I do because I don't want any trouble. I just lower it to the side furthest from the cop and I take no more sips of it. Wrong move! As we pass, he thinks I may be concealing a weapon and unbuckles the cover of his gun and rests his hand on it.
Demente, our bass player and tour organiser, then says to me, "did you see put his hand on his gun then?" I say no but I knew why he did it. I'm always getting this shit he says in a way that suggests that he is always getting this shit.

 In the car I finish up the stupid beer.

Anyway the club is really cool and a great place to spend an evening. I wasn't enjoying it as much as I could because I was ill and devastated at the loss of my voice. Two members of the band that were to cover my songs enquired if I was better to which they both  independently received a terse No! I didn't want a conversation on this subject, in fact I didn't want to speak again until the gig the following day but that was not to happen, it's too difficult without seeming like you are a complete bastard orelse you'd need instead to wear a sandwich board saying I cannot speak so don't expect a reply.
I tell Isabela that there was no way I was in a fit state to bellow Wake up and Kick out The Tories with this band and that they need to be informed, she being the tour manager does just that. I feel sorry for the band, they have worked so hard and love the Neurotics so much, their covers was meant to be a tribute to me but it one thing too far.
I do my DJ thing and find it very enjoyable indeed, Not only do I get to play my favourite songs but it is a real pleasure to seeing people dancing their hearts out. Included in my list of songs were tracks by a couple of bands that have covered Neurotics songs, when they are played, the audience sing along to all the words and I finally have the realisation that the club is full of Neurotics fans, they go wild. It is not a surprise really, the night was billed as me doing a DJ spot and they have come along to see the man. The fact that I didn't this shows you how unwell I was, I was just existing.

The band finally take the stage and at the end of their set they start 'Kick Out The Tories'. I'm standing watching (bad move) and become aware that the entire audience are pleading and gesticulating for me to get on the stage. This should be fun, this should be an honour. It is not. For me. I cannot afford to use my voice.
A girl in the audience comes up to me and say's go on, they want you to sing! I futilely point at my throat but then I have an idea. I jump into the audience and pretend sing with everyone there, punching the air during the "Don't believe, don't believe, don't believe what you read" A very weird experience I can tell you. Then I jump on to the stage to bellow one final "Let's Kick Out The Tories". "Now"!, the audience go wild, the band are pleased, they have had Steve Drewett on stage with them and I have fulfilled a promise to them that I would join them. Job done, voice not strained.
It is becoming increasingly apparent that my songs have been very important to many people in Brazil over the years. Who would have thought eh?
And tomorrow the tour starts proper and I have no voice. Can you imagine how bad that feels?

For the first time since I have been here I feel really alone, because I am.

The introvert in me has won.