Image Courtesy Of Jorge Botas Photography
“Quem não arrisca, não petisca”...this is a Portuguese saying that translates as “He who doesn’t risk, doesn’t snack” ...essentially a variation of “No risk, no reward”. Why does this apply here? Well, to kick start 2026 I embarked on another solo Winter-Goth-Getaway to see my favourite Finnish vampire friends THE 69 EYES...but whereas last time they personally welcomed me to their home in Helsinki, this time I booked a flight in the opposite direction, to Lisbon, Portugal, where they were continuing their European run with Danish rock ‘n’ roll icons D-A-D, on the “Cowpunks And Glampires Tour”. Having never been to the COUNTRY, let alone the city, hotel or venue, I risked it all, and tiny traditional custard tarts were not even on my radar. Here’s what went down...
Now...flights and trip deals are contrary at the best of times, so to save money, I travelled 186 miles north to Manchester to get on a plane to fly 1,070 miles back the way I came to Lisbon. Cardiff has its own fucking airport mind you...yet it was still cheaper to fly from Manchester, including getting there. I wander my way through the airport, get through passport checks, put my carry-on luggage through the X-Ray thing, (No drugs or weaponized dildos, they were hidden in me), I have a couple of obligatory airport pints, exchange some money to have more of some different money, because some money is worth less than other money (Who decides this shit, seriously?) and I wait for the Ryanair app to tell me what gate I’m going to. Depending on how this flight goes it may be heaven or hell...my freshly exchanged money is on hell. Nevertheless, I landed safely a few hours later and managed to get a taxi to my hotel around 11pm. I had to google the hotel for the LOCAL taxi driver...I fully expected my few usable organs to be on the black market by morning. That’s just Friday!
Saturday morning...I wake up and have several hours to spare before the gig and so naturally I do a little exploring. My hotel is a couple of kilometres from the sea and the hub of the city, but I enjoy a walk...as random as that walk is. Firstly, the roads...I keep forgetting they drive on the right...and when it comes to crossing roads it’s a gamble, as the pedestrian signs are timed, but drivers tend to ignore them like it’s a score-based system. The little man may be green, but the roads are coated with the Port-red blood of the undiligent. A couple of times I’m nearly run over and that’s before breakfast.
There are wild cockerels roaming a park area while some dude shadowboxes; he’s imagining beating meat of some kind …I notice a pattern of odd socks littered around some streets; I don’t know if this is a city gang thing or there’s some chronic masturbatory endemic. I walk past a funeral parlour while they are actively loading a coffin into the back of an Opel Vivaro...I work with vans in my day job...as disrespectful as that is, at least it isn’t a Maxus. There are statues of Cristiano Ronaldo in shop windows, dodgy guys trying to sell you sunglasses and weed, boy and girl scouts trying to flog shit while you are probably pickpocketed to fuck, and some little carts selling roast chestnuts as though I’m in some internationally dubbed Charles Dickens adaptation. All entwined around some stunning architecture and restaurants. Classic city centre vibes.
Now...flights and trip deals are contrary at the best of times, so to save money, I travelled 186 miles north to Manchester to get on a plane to fly 1,070 miles back the way I came to Lisbon. Cardiff has its own fucking airport mind you...yet it was still cheaper to fly from Manchester, including getting there. I wander my way through the airport, get through passport checks, put my carry-on luggage through the X-Ray thing, (No drugs or weaponized dildos, they were hidden in me), I have a couple of obligatory airport pints, exchange some money to have more of some different money, because some money is worth less than other money (Who decides this shit, seriously?) and I wait for the Ryanair app to tell me what gate I’m going to. Depending on how this flight goes it may be heaven or hell...my freshly exchanged money is on hell. Nevertheless, I landed safely a few hours later and managed to get a taxi to my hotel around 11pm. I had to google the hotel for the LOCAL taxi driver...I fully expected my few usable organs to be on the black market by morning. That’s just Friday!
Saturday morning...I wake up and have several hours to spare before the gig and so naturally I do a little exploring. My hotel is a couple of kilometres from the sea and the hub of the city, but I enjoy a walk...as random as that walk is. Firstly, the roads...I keep forgetting they drive on the right...and when it comes to crossing roads it’s a gamble, as the pedestrian signs are timed, but drivers tend to ignore them like it’s a score-based system. The little man may be green, but the roads are coated with the Port-red blood of the undiligent. A couple of times I’m nearly run over and that’s before breakfast.
There are wild cockerels roaming a park area while some dude shadowboxes; he’s imagining beating meat of some kind …I notice a pattern of odd socks littered around some streets; I don’t know if this is a city gang thing or there’s some chronic masturbatory endemic. I walk past a funeral parlour while they are actively loading a coffin into the back of an Opel Vivaro...I work with vans in my day job...as disrespectful as that is, at least it isn’t a Maxus. There are statues of Cristiano Ronaldo in shop windows, dodgy guys trying to sell you sunglasses and weed, boy and girl scouts trying to flog shit while you are probably pickpocketed to fuck, and some little carts selling roast chestnuts as though I’m in some internationally dubbed Charles Dickens adaptation. All entwined around some stunning architecture and restaurants. Classic city centre vibes.
Image Courtesy Of Jorge Botas Photography
Touristy exploration aside, we were here for some live music, a new venue and a new experience, and several hours after wandering aimlessly, and having some hotel room beers while watching random Portuguese TV, it was time to get an Uber to the venue which, despite looking relatively close on the map, was a good 4km away, and was it worth the travel? On face value; yes...the LISBOA AO VIVO is a decent sized warehouse type building down some random-ass Portuguese alley, but they’ve got some big names coming through here, so the best way I can describe it is like, Lisbon’s version of the Bristol Academy or Nottingham’s Rock City...with the space and balcony vibes...and things started well...
I get to the venue, a small early gathering was already outside waiting for doors, tour buses are there, some eager Goth looking types but they surprisingly soon become a minority even at this gig (More on that later)…we’re allowed in early because the rain in Spain fell mainly in Portugal tonight and credit to the venue, they looked after their punters, so we can get in, browse the merch, grab a drink at the bar and get settled while still dry.
I manage to get to the barrier as a result, which is perfect as I get to see THE 69 EYES [8] up close again, and enjoy a classic Goth ‘N’ Roll set of hits. Opening with “Devils” they strut their stuff on stage like the seasoned veterans they are, celebrating twenty years of arguably their wider breakthrough album. However, with nearly a 40-year career overall they have plenty to play with... “Paris Kills” gets a nod with “Betty Blue” and “Don’t Turn Your Back On Fear”...whist elsewhere we fleet between eras from “Blessed Be” and “X”.
The sound doesn’t do them justice early on in their set, as Jyrki’s vocals are sadly drowned out for a couple of tracks, but they soldier through and keep the tunes coming. The latest single “I Survive” gets a showing but as they don’t have collaborator STEVE STEVENS with them on stage, it’s just another track tonight. I mean it’s cool they worked together...but the track could have come from “Angels” or “Back In Blood” and it’s not a massive sonic departure. What we ARE treated to however...is the special guest appearance of Portugal’s own Fernando Ribeiro from MOONSPELL. The Portuguese Werewolf joins The Helsinki Vampires during the encore for a closing rendition of “Lost Boys” and this is arguably the most active the crowd have been so far, and as an outsider...it’s interestingly noticeable. Sure, the band are received warmly, but there has been an air of patience in the venue...and it’s only when Fernando walks on stage do the crowd really seem to ACTUALLY care, which is insane, as I've only ever seen The 69 Eyes as a headline band...but for whatever reason, 69 may as well be 6-7 tonight...just a passing meme, and this disappoints me personally. NEARLY as much as the venue as it turns out...
I have to embrace my inner Aldo Montoya to wrestle my way back through an incredibly packed crowd as I need to use the men's room...to discover that it’s seemingly in fact been oversold. Once full, you can get an idea of how poor this layout actually is...the entrance is a straight line to the stage, with doors wide open...as people are trying to watch and listen from OUTSIDE...in January mind you, I don’t care that it’s Portugal it’s a bloody wind tunnel. The merch tables, toilets and bar area are all immediately after the doors...so the congestion in this open plan room is unreal. There are a lot of middle-aged folks in casual wear taking up most of the space like there’s a sale on at M&S, and they are all nattering in Portuguese getting round after round of small beers, more concerned with having a catch up than anything else. I’m not claustrophobic, but I am easily irritated by crowds, and I am not a fan of this set up, or Portuguese gig-ettiquette.
I get to the venue, a small early gathering was already outside waiting for doors, tour buses are there, some eager Goth looking types but they surprisingly soon become a minority even at this gig (More on that later)…we’re allowed in early because the rain in Spain fell mainly in Portugal tonight and credit to the venue, they looked after their punters, so we can get in, browse the merch, grab a drink at the bar and get settled while still dry.
I manage to get to the barrier as a result, which is perfect as I get to see THE 69 EYES [8] up close again, and enjoy a classic Goth ‘N’ Roll set of hits. Opening with “Devils” they strut their stuff on stage like the seasoned veterans they are, celebrating twenty years of arguably their wider breakthrough album. However, with nearly a 40-year career overall they have plenty to play with... “Paris Kills” gets a nod with “Betty Blue” and “Don’t Turn Your Back On Fear”...whist elsewhere we fleet between eras from “Blessed Be” and “X”.
The sound doesn’t do them justice early on in their set, as Jyrki’s vocals are sadly drowned out for a couple of tracks, but they soldier through and keep the tunes coming. The latest single “I Survive” gets a showing but as they don’t have collaborator STEVE STEVENS with them on stage, it’s just another track tonight. I mean it’s cool they worked together...but the track could have come from “Angels” or “Back In Blood” and it’s not a massive sonic departure. What we ARE treated to however...is the special guest appearance of Portugal’s own Fernando Ribeiro from MOONSPELL. The Portuguese Werewolf joins The Helsinki Vampires during the encore for a closing rendition of “Lost Boys” and this is arguably the most active the crowd have been so far, and as an outsider...it’s interestingly noticeable. Sure, the band are received warmly, but there has been an air of patience in the venue...and it’s only when Fernando walks on stage do the crowd really seem to ACTUALLY care, which is insane, as I've only ever seen The 69 Eyes as a headline band...but for whatever reason, 69 may as well be 6-7 tonight...just a passing meme, and this disappoints me personally. NEARLY as much as the venue as it turns out...
I have to embrace my inner Aldo Montoya to wrestle my way back through an incredibly packed crowd as I need to use the men's room...to discover that it’s seemingly in fact been oversold. Once full, you can get an idea of how poor this layout actually is...the entrance is a straight line to the stage, with doors wide open...as people are trying to watch and listen from OUTSIDE...in January mind you, I don’t care that it’s Portugal it’s a bloody wind tunnel. The merch tables, toilets and bar area are all immediately after the doors...so the congestion in this open plan room is unreal. There are a lot of middle-aged folks in casual wear taking up most of the space like there’s a sale on at M&S, and they are all nattering in Portuguese getting round after round of small beers, more concerned with having a catch up than anything else. I’m not claustrophobic, but I am easily irritated by crowds, and I am not a fan of this set up, or Portuguese gig-ettiquette.
Dealing with all of these first world problems I forget momentarily that there is in fact another band to play, and I’m not about to complain because D-A-D [8] are fucking good to be fair. While I might not appreciate Portuguese gig etiquette or manners on this first experience I can sure as hell enjoy a good band, who to zero surprise, deliver a superb set. They open up with the classic “Jihad” which see’s tonight’s crowd finally come to life. There may be no fuel left for the pilgrims, but Portugal has seemingly been saving energy for these Dane’s and it’s fascinating to see different cultures appreciate different bands. it was 2019 D-A-D last played in the UK...but they are adored here!
That 1989 record seemingly strikes a chord with this crowd as “Girl Nation” and ESPECIALLY “Point Of View” get rapturous sing-along moments of sheer joy. This is wonderfully insane to me as the majority of punters are dressed like Lisboa Ao Vivo is a library not a venue...and any sense of subculture visually is an afterthought. The crowd here really are giving it their all for D-A-D and it’s frankly educational.
That 1989 record seemingly strikes a chord with this crowd as “Girl Nation” and ESPECIALLY “Point Of View” get rapturous sing-along moments of sheer joy. This is wonderfully insane to me as the majority of punters are dressed like Lisboa Ao Vivo is a library not a venue...and any sense of subculture visually is an afterthought. The crowd here really are giving it their all for D-A-D and it’s frankly educational.
Image Courtesy Of Jorge Botas Photography
I try to not be TOO distracted by this, and I do enjoy a sing-along myself, especially with recent hit “The Ghost” and the title track from the latest album “The Speed Of Darkness”, while they fleet back to older cuts like “Rim Of Hell” which sounds like my toilet seat after a delightfully distressful curry I wont lie.
Ultimately...what can be said about tonight’s experience? I travelled all this way to once again see The 69 Eyes...and while it was a pleasure as always, enjoying some of my favourite songs of all time...it was almost humbling. We’re spoiled rotten in the UK, with tours, shows, a massive variety of consistent touring artists...with some iconic festivals to boot...and here’s me flying to Portugal to enjoy my band...where I become a minority in an already minority fanbase. I adore both bands frankly and applaud them both for tonight...they are no issue whatsoever, but the venue set-up takes points off the overall experience of the night and while I’m happy I travelled to experience this gig...it’s not a venue I’m in a hurry to return to. Nem fodendo. Words: Gavin Griffiths
Ultimately...what can be said about tonight’s experience? I travelled all this way to once again see The 69 Eyes...and while it was a pleasure as always, enjoying some of my favourite songs of all time...it was almost humbling. We’re spoiled rotten in the UK, with tours, shows, a massive variety of consistent touring artists...with some iconic festivals to boot...and here’s me flying to Portugal to enjoy my band...where I become a minority in an already minority fanbase. I adore both bands frankly and applaud them both for tonight...they are no issue whatsoever, but the venue set-up takes points off the overall experience of the night and while I’m happy I travelled to experience this gig...it’s not a venue I’m in a hurry to return to. Nem fodendo. Words: Gavin Griffiths
RSS Feed