The Hogs on the Czech TV music programme "Noc s Andělem", 17.11.2007
Reports from backstage
(A side note – the Czech TV2 is a reputable public-service TV channel, specializing in less-commercial stuff; "Noc s Andělem" to which the Hogs were invited is one of the most popular Saturday night programmes.)
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Having been appointed as the "official accompaniment" (and interpreter) by the band’s manager, I managerially approched the entrance of the Czech TV building just as the unmistakable yellow van carrying the main stars arrived. That was at 7:30 p.m. The TV show – a live broadcast – was scheduled to start at 11:55 p.m.
Upon entering the TV building, we were met by a young girl, an assigned helper. And then it was straight into the elevators and upstairs to the studio.
First impression: The studio was miniature. Huge pieces of silver material on the walls (like the aluminium in which chocolates are wrapped). Super-tiny stage in one corner, a bit bigger, polished dancing stage next to it, and a sofa with table and two chairs where the talking part of the talkshow was supposed to happen. The rest of the crammed space was occupied by cameras, lights, and other equipment. One was tripping over and bumping into things all the time.
Before the soundcheck, the Hogs were told they would play six songs, so they sat down to decide which ones. Michael chose Rosin the Bow, Poor Paddy and Streams Of Whiskey (yay – a Pogues song on Czech TV). Kieran chose Kelly the Boy from Killane, Wild Rover and The Mermaid. I asked the helpful girl for paper and pens, and they wrote down setlists. I supposed all of them were writing down serious setlists, and I did not notice anything wrong until Michael presented me with his creation. The first half of it was absolutely innocent. The second half contained "Paddy on the W***ing Machine" and a few other unquotable gems. As I was standing there with that, umm, filthy paper in my hand, suddenly the director approached me and politely told me she needed the setlist to be able to put song names on the TV screen when they play them. With a smile, she reached for the paper in my hand. The temptation to surrender it was strong, but the decent manager in me quickly pulled my hand away and gladdened the woman with another setlist from the table. I didn’t even check if that one was, umm, correct but as it turned out later, it was.
When the sound emgineers were satisfied with what they heard, the Hogs were invited to the main sound room to listen to a short recording of the soundcheck and decide if they were satisfied too. The journey to the sound room was an endless walk through corridors and stairways, totally deserted, dimly lit and all looking the same. A TV guy was leading the way and I was thinking that if he left us in the sound room, I would never be able to find my way back to the studio.
We returned to the studio just as the Czech-Irish dancers who had been invited as other performers arrived, and they practiced a bit, hopping around and shaking their legs and all that jazz.
Shortly after 9 p.m. it was over, and the Hogs were granted over an hour and a half of free time. I got a managerial task to enquire about drinks, which I fulfilled, but I had to disappoint my clients with telling them that the only available drinks were: 1) water (plain and with bubbles), 2) juice (orange and apple), 3) wine (red). The Hogs terribly missed beer, and their Czech band mates, Benny (the drummer) and Pyro (the whistler), complained that it should be manager's duty to obtain some stronger stuff. Manager firmly declined and let the clients treat themselves to wine. I’m not sure how many bottles there were (four?) but I know for sure that when the show was over and we were leaving, not a drop of wine remained.
For the following hour and a half, we were just sitting in the corridor, drinking, watching football on TV and chatting – some innocent small talk, some unquotable stuff. One talk included chopped-off balls and Kieran singing a bit of female part of FONY in a mock-female voice. I hope the technicians who were messing around and idling were not very good at English...
The interpreter came – the one who was expected to interpret for the Hogs in front of the camera (I was the off-camera one). He revealed to us that he was invited because he could speak Irish Gaelic and they wanted him to converse with the Hogs in the "teanga mhilis" on the show. The TV people perhaps didn't realise that not every Irishman (not even Irishman from the remote Connemara countryside) feels comfortable conversing in Gaelic, moreover with cameras pointed at him. So the well-laid plans went awry.
At 10:45, the time for camera check came. Camera check... it may sound super-important, but in fact the director just came to the studio and quickly informed all participants about the basic outline of the show. In some 20 minutes it was over, and we ended up in the corridor again. The dancers were dressing into their funny costumes, so the guys could admire young bare-legged girls dashing out of and into the dressing room. And drank more wine.
At 11:45, a girl with powder came and applied it to the faces of participants, and immediately afterwards they were hurried onstage. Time for... not fifteen seconds of glory, not five minutes of fame, but full 90 minutes of the live broadcast, including a talk-show (with the musicians, the dancers and the Gaelic-speaking guy) and music and dance performances. The talking was pure improvisation (nobody told anybody what they would be asked about), so it was a challenge for both the interviewees and the interpreter, but they did fine. The Hogs were asked about the band name, about how they got to perform in Czechia and a few questions about Ireland. Pyro and Benny were asked how they got together with an Irish band. (Pyro: "I met them at a gig, asked if I could play for them... and that was that.") Streams Of Whiskey was the last number of the show, and perhaps it was that song which made one of the spectators (who were encouraged to send comments and questions to the TV during the show) remark that the Hogs’ songs sounded "self-destructive" to him. Well, it was taken as a compliment.
When the guys were packing their instruments, I picked up Michael's setlist from the floor and examined whether it was as dirty as the one I was presented with earlier. Nah, it was totally innocent. I went to fetch my jacket and backpack (and the filthy setlist which was obediently waiting for me) and then we waited some more in the corridor till Benny dismantled and packed his drumkit. (The hard life of drummers...) As we were standing there, the helpful girl approached me and said she needed the setlist, muttering something about copyrights and such. She was bolder than the director – she actually started pulling the paper from my hand. The, uhm, incorrect paper. I stopped her at the last second, managing my most polite smile and thrusting Michael's innocent setlist (which I was – luckily! – still holding too) into her eager hand instead. My second big chance to shock the TV people and spoil the Hogs' reputation... and I didn't use it.
And that's the end – even the longest five minutes of fame have to end eventually. And 2:00 a.m. seems to be a high time for taking a break. The Irishmen announced they needed some real drinks, so we dropped them in the centre of Prague and let them search for non-stop drinking holes. And the rest of us were dropped, by one, at our places after enjoying a ride through the dark, eerie fog-shrouded city.
