No strangers to the travails of touring, Splendour-bound Brisbanites Yves Klein Blue know a thing or two about surviving on the road. Frontman Michael Tomlinson shares some of his (frequently hilarious) secrets.

ACCLIMATISTION: THE TWO-TIER APPROACH (TO BE CARRIED OUT IN THE DAYS LEADING UP TO DEPARTURE).

A) GEAR: To get back into the swing of carrying gear while hungover I like to needlessly move the heaviest and most awkward pieces of furniture I own around a crowded room while drinking castor oil wearing big enormous boots three sizes too big filled up with mud with the shoelaces untied.

B) SLEEP: Go to bed at 3:00am every night in the days leading up to your departure and wake up at 7:30am. (I do this completely by accident but it seems to give me the edge when it comes to sleeping in transit. Apparently I look like I’m dead and it’s quite disconcerting but quite frankly that’s not my problem though is it? My comments to the other members of YKB are as follows: While I lay twisted with my head at a demonic angle like some sort of gross zombie I’m having wonderful dreams and damaging my back by sleeping in upright chairs most of the time, so there. This tactic is also useful in acclimatising your body to not much sleep, or alternatively, a regular amount of very bad sleep.)

Do absolutely nothing else to prepare until about 9:OOpm the night before you are scheduled to leave. NB: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES SHOULD YOU BEGIN TO PREPARE YOURSELF BEFORE THIS TIME: IT IS ABSOLUTELY VITAL TO YOUR MENTAL PREPARATION. (I cannot stress this enough.)

PROCEDURE: INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER

1. Come to terms with the enormity of the situation over a “cup of tea” (acceptable alternatives to cup of tea include: “a large drink” or “while hyperventilating into a paper bag”).

2. Find your bag. In completing this first step you will most likely solve all the problems regarding the location of every left sock you own and the vast majority of your underpants, as well as other key articles of clothing including favorite shirts and that book you have been intending to read for the last three weeks.

(WARNING: additionally you may find that you may become reacquainted with other items including things other members of the band have been looking for in the interim. At best this will entail compact discs or sweets. At worst this could entail used gig shirts that have begun to develop crude nervous systems or even has begun to arrange themselves into primitive societies. Even more perilous are the foreign underpants (the lighter in colour they are, the more aware you become of the harsh realities of the transient diet.)

3. Wash everything – this will not happen again until you return home. (NB – you will always have less clothes than there are days. It all about underpants really, I’m sorry to carry on about them but they’re important – you have to feel secure during the performance. I am especially neurotic and I don’t mind sharing with you that I own underpants that would never wear during a gig. Inevitably these underpants, which we in the band refer to as ‘shit underpants’ (no pun intended) will always be the only clean ones during the frenetic and conniption inducing stress of dark hours you spend packing. The best tip I can give you is no secret: turn them inside out to get a second days use.

Further NB: Inside out is the only acceptable method, NEVER back-to-front: do not reverse them in order to obtain more wears as it is medically unsound. My friend once tried it during an odyssey of a train journey throughout South America. YOU WILL GET A URINARY TRACT INFECTION – just think about what is making contact with what. You see?)

4. Medicine Cabinet/Toiletries Bag (Assemble). You need: Multivitamins (to supplement poor/restricted diet) Cold and Flu (to alleviate symptoms of hypochondria), Panadol, Nurofen, Panadeine Fort, and other such opium derivatives (to give to Sean) Charcoal Tablets (to alleviate flatulence), Demazin (Runny nose), Fess Nasal Spray, Listerene (to prevent throat infection, interestingly original Listerene is the same colour as whisky), comb (ask Robert Forster which type), hair gel, nail scissors, sticky tape, phone charger, condoms (just in case, though you won’t need them), rubber ducky, shower cap, kitchen sink, small can of baked beans (see point 7). Don’t bring toothpaste – it might leak over all you shit and one of the other guys is bound to have it: Let them take that risk.

5. Baked Beans/Canned Food. Collect it as if you were deranged bower bird. You will find ways to prepare it. Usually involving an electric kettle. NB: THE BAKED BEAN COMPONENT REQUIRED IN STEP 6 STILL MUST BE SATISFIED (a small can of baked beans in your toiletries bag is a necessity no matter how many other cans you bring: THIS IS ABSOLUTLEY CRUCIAL).

6. Entertainment. Music (new and old, you’ll need variety). Books (just throw a few in, you won’t get more than a few pages into the one you found earlier in your bag). By this point everything is beginning to disgust you and you feel ill. Have a shower because you stink of fear and your dog is beginning to distrust you.

7. Crawl into bed at 3:47am. Say a quiet prayer as you drift off into a fitful slumber.

8. Wake up and 90 minutes before you are due to leave the house.

9. Fall asleep again within 3 minutes.

10. Wake 57 minutes later.

11. Allow yourself approximately four minutes to fully consider and comprehend how badly you have fucked up. Rise abruptly cursing in a flurry of ascending trousers and socks.

12. Suddenly realise the vast majority of the equipment (or at the very least two items of essential equipment) is still at the rehearsal rooms on the other side of town.

13. Accidentally damage something expensive as a result of blind panic.
14. Momentarily lose consciousness while frantically trying to call the cab company using the remote control unit that operates the air conditioner.

15. Wake up groggy and confused wearing different clothes – somehow you are on the plane. Your bandmates are sitting across the aisle from you asleep – do not disturb them: they are all very angry with you. Relax for now, perhaps order a beverage from the pleasant cabin crew, the events of the morning will be revealed to you at some point in the near future. But don’t think you’re home and hosed yet, you can never account for the weather. Put negative thoughts to the back of your mind using mediation techniques and sleep.

16. Wake up seven arbitrary units of time later – you are back at the port you embarked from. A blizzard and tropical cyclone are battling like Godzilla on Mothra in an inconvenient space over Melbourne so your flight has turned around. To add insult to injury all you luggage has been lost and somebody has drawn a pair of glasses and a beard onto you face with a sharpie while you were asleep. Drop something fragile and expensive when you realise this (it doesn’t matter who it belongs to just so long as you end up paying for it). By now you should be feeling very tense and alienated from everybody around you.

17. Stub your toe.

18. You are now mentally ready to begin a tour, though chances are you’ve probably forgotten something important.

Yves Klein Blue kick off their ‘Blue Steel’ tour alongside The John Steel Singers this week. They also play Splendour In The Grass, starting Saturday 2 August.

Thursday 19 June – Sol Bar, Coolum Beach, Sunshine Beach

Friday 20 June (w/ Skinny Jean) – The Valley Studios, Brisbane (+18 BYO Alcohol)

Saturday 21 June (w/ The Cairos) – The Valley Studios, Brisbane. ALL AGES

Sunday 22 June – Great Northern Hotel, Byron Bay. FREE

Friday 27 June (w/ Major Major) – Northcote Social Club, Melbourne

Saturday 28 June (w/ Fait Accompli) – Spectrum, Sydney