America Tour 2000
Tuesday, October19, 1999.

Miam1 the Pet Shop Boys' first American tour for eight years begins tomorrow. They have been preparing and rehearsing in London for months. Ten days ago - after a brisk detour in Germany to perform "New York City Boy" on television - they moved to West Palm Beach, on the Florida coas~ for final production rehearsals. Whilst they were there, Hurricane Irene hit, and both Neil and Chris had to be moved Out of their high but ocean-facing rooms which were flooded with three inches of water. (The hurricane did have one beneficial side-effect. The lighting designer had been wondering what to project behind the Pet Shop Boys during one of the show's more reflective songs, "Only The Wind", and as the weather worsened his team simply went outside and filmed the texture and motion of raindrops in the puddles of the parking lot outside.)

Today Neil and Chris have their first day off for two weeks. "But not evening off," Chris complains. This evening they will have a dress rehearsal and final ran-through, this time on the set in the Jackie Gleason Theatre Of The Performing Arts where tomorrow's concert will take place. In the car on the way to the theatre - two blocks away - they discuss the film Love And Death In Long Island (which Chris has just watched and Neil has seen previously) and argue about whether Jason Priestley is good looking. "Of the Performing Arts!" whoops Chris, reading the sign as we drive past the auditorium and into the parking lot. "Not of Broadway tat." "Quite right too," says Neil. They walk inside, and stand where the audience will stand tomorrow, looking up at Zaha Hadid's angular surreal stage on which they will perform. It's easy when you've been busy putting together a show like this to set aside the thought that you will actually soon be performing it in front of thousands of people. Not any more. "You feel," says Neil, "the deal is real. As someone once said." Chris stares alongside him.

"I still can't really believe we're doing this tour," he says. Then he abruptly announces, "Right - I've got to go and get my shorts taken in." Backstage, he fiddles with his new baseball cap. On the hack it says Pam Star. On the front, Hellhent for Pleasure. He cups it in his hand, bending it so that when he releases it the peak will stay in a tighter arch. "For the desired redneck effect," he explains. Dainton, who has been despatched to get Chris some Shore pizza (Chris's favoured brand), rectums with bad news. The Sabre is shut, and on the door is a sign. "No electric," it says. Dainton goes hack out to find some alliterative pizza, but while he is away, the backstage catering opens and Chris keenly helps himself. "Aren't you having pizza?" Neil reminds him. "You can't Tums down pork," Chris points Out. They discuss the first week chart position of Nightlife, which is disappointing in Britain but good elsewhere. "Did you hear about Gary Barlow's album?" Chris asks Neil. Neil looks visibly alarmed, and only relaxes when Chris says that it only entered somewhere around number 30 in the British chart. "I thought you were going to say it was higher than us, says Neil. "I was going to retire..." They discuss the show. "The set relies very heavily on lighting, doesn't it?" Chris says. "But, then again, they all do." "We've finally got tap-dancing in one of our shows," Neil says. "Keith has taped him self tap dancing, and he mimes to it."

(Keith is one of the dancers.) After dinner, they sit by the monitor desk in the auditorium from where the films and projections will be intruded. Several of the films are still not ready. They survey a rough edit of footage to he used during "Young Offender" (taken from Crnshproof a film by Paul Tickle, who they know). A little of it is somewhat risqué and the Pet Shop Boys argue about how long the most explicit images should be allowed to linger, and whether the film will need to be re-edited on the nights when their parents come to the show. In the dressing room, Neil flicks through the theatre's 1999-2000 season calendar. "Sarah Brightmlan was here two nights ago," he notes. Chris is fitted with his new blond wig, which is longer and has teased dreadlocks shooting out from its scalp. He nods approvingly. "I feel closer to my self-image now," he says. Neil's own new wig appears - it is also longer than previously versions, but the tufts of hair are more evenly distributed than Chris's. "That's not your long wig?" questions Chris. "Yes," Neil says. "It doesn't look very Edward Scissorhands." "No," Neil says. "We went back to Beethoven." "We realised," says Ian MacNeil, the theatre designer who has masterminded the show's wigs and costumes, "it was going to look too Beetlejuice." Neil nods. "I might as well have had a handbag." Neil is slowly made up. "It's good to do the dress rehearsal in the same place as the first show," he says. "That's how we do it in the theatre," Ian MacNeil points out. "But then you don't move to Tampa the next night," Neil says. There is a slight pause.

"Do you think," Neil wonders, "than the tampon was invented in Tampa?" He mentions that they've got to do some TV interviews before the show tomorrow night. Chris looks surmised ."I thought you'd like to relax you're vocal chords and gargle and all that kind of thing..." Chris begins. "Gargle?" Neil exclaims, as though nothing more preposterous has ever been said. "I haven't gargled in my life." Chris shrugs. "Well, Concentrate on the show or something." They discuss why Radio One isn't playing their records enough in Britain. Chris notes that the most negative review on Nighthfe is on the Radio One website. "I think it's all to do with Zoe Ball," he says. "Or is that just being paranoid?" "I think it's being paranoid," Neil says, "because Zoe Ball's actually quite nice. Now that it is in place, Chris re-inspects Neil's wig. "That's quite good, that," he declares. "I know who looks like that - that woman in 101 Dolmotions. That's what they're going to say you look like." "1 have no problem with that," Neil says. "I've always liked Cruella de Ville. She made a big impression on my childhood. I always preferred her to those dreary poppies." But he's not quite happy. The wig feelt a little tight. "The thing it," he explains, asking for it to be loosened, "my face is very mobile, you know. I do a lot of eye movement, believe it or not. I'm like Roger Moore. And it feels weird." He mentions to Chris that he has brought along two CDs as his suggestions for what they should play before and after the performance. For before they come on, he proposes a contemporary r'n'b record by a group called Bomegrown which he bought in the record section of Urbon Outfitters in London because he liked the look of the sleeve and wrongly imagined it was ambient techno; for afterwards, an old over-emotional version of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow".

Chris is slightly sceptical about the first choice. "I'll listen to it with an open mind," he promises, "but I don't like anything at the moment..." "Unless you have anything..." defers Neil. "We could play some songs from Gary Barlow's album," Chris suggests. "Or how about some Stockhausen? Then they'll be pleased to hear us come on playing a tune." Neil pauses for a moment before replying. "No," he says. There is a half an hour before the performance. "Am I done?" Neil asloi Clirissie, the wigs person. "Be's overdone," mutters Chris. Merck, their American manager, and James, the tour manager, come in to discuss their forthcoming Toronto connect terse welts from now. It toms out that the venue had been chosen before the revised special Dona for their stage set had been agreed, and that it now doesn't fit, It's too late to cancel, but if they play there it will be with a very compromised version of the show. "There's no other venue available," Merck emphasises. "How about a drive-in cinema?" offers Chris, somewhat flippantly. "A supermarket?" Neil slips into his culottes and discovers that they're too short. "We'll do them tomorrow," promises Consuela, who looks after such matters. "The point of the dress rehearsal," Neil notes forlomly, "is that everything's perfect." Another wardrobe problem materialises: during the show Neil has to wear a small box on his waist for the radio microphone which feeds the music into his earpiece for him to sing to, but the culottes have not been designed to allow for this. "Maybe they've had a lot to do today," Neil sighs. "Adjusting my swimming trunks," Chris whispers. Neil studies himself some more in the mirror, and begins to worry aloud that maybe hit wig doesn't look so good after all. Eventually he sighs and says, "maybe I'm talking absolute bullshit as usual." "You're getting in a flap," Chris diagnoses. "I'm getting in a flap," he concedes.

"We're on stage in nine minutes," Chris observes. Neil looks around. "Where's my wine and water?" he snaps. "The whole system's falling apart!" "You have a glass of wine?" asks Chris, apparently surprised, though Neil has followed the same ritual for most Pet Shop Boys concerts in recent memory. "It's approximately two-thirds water, one-third wine," Neil says. "I didn't know that," says Chris, then adds, "I thought it was just wine." "No," Neil explains, "that would dry your throat out." Chris nods. "It's a diuretic. If you drink a third, you'll urinate out two-thirds." James' tells them its time to head to the stage. "Don't some artists keep their fans waiting?" Chris asks him. "The ruder ones," Jarnes replies. They take their positions at the back of the stage on time, but the dress rehearsal doesn't start as planned. The show begins with a wash of green static and weaving lines projected against a screen covering the stage. Tonight this starts and stops for a while, and then the house lights come back on. There is a long wait while a technical problem is addressed, and then the show finally begins. During the first song, "For Your Own Good", the Pet Shop Boys are not seen in the flesh. Instead, the artist Bruce Naumanri projects their rotating heads by a work they admire) as Neil sings the vocal, live, standing backstage. At the end of a song, a green line waves back and forth across the screen and a long orchestrated preastihle eventually turns into "West End Girls". As the chorus bassline surges in, the screen Drops and the Pet Shop Boys can finally be seen, Neil standing directly above Chris on the stage's elevated limb. Sylvia Mason-James appears midway through the song, and the four male singers (who have, inevitably, also been persuaded to dance) appear early in the third song, "Discoteca".

That is followed by a radically reworked, much rougher-sounding "Being Boring", in the middle of which the dancers and Neil collapse in unison to the floor and lie there. Neil only rises to one knee as he starts the final verse. After "Happiness Is An Option", "Can You Forgive Her?" and "Only The Wind" Neil is standing exactly where be begun the show, and Tums to the tall diagonal white swoosh of stage which rises above him to his right, and which is used to project images and films on during the show. "Ladies and gentleman," be says (though of course there are only a handful of people in the auditorium), "Miss Dusty Springfield..." The idea is that, as Neil begins "What Have I Done To Deserve This?", the screen is filled with pictures and film of Dusty from the Sixties while her disembodied voice booms Out her parts of the duet, and then that during the soaring "since you went away..." part of the song, Dusty will be seen singing the lines from the original video. But tonight it doesn't work well at all. To begin with, Dusty's voice can barely be heard. On the screen, the images of Dusty keep disappearing, and when it comes to the part where her voice and image are supposed to be in sync, they are clearly not. You can also, rather disconcertingly, see the 198? Neil in the comer of the screen, singing along with himself. The first half concludes with a riotous "New York City Boy", in which the male singers flounce around joyously in sailor costumes, and finally "Left To My own Devices After a fifteen minute break, during which the computers are loaded with the second half of the show, they rectum, coming on stage to "Young Offender". They are now wearing short wigs. Neil goes off towards the end of "Vampires", during which the singers stand together and enjoy an extended soulfil extemporisation, and when be returns with an acoustic guitar to sing "Se A Vida F", sitting on the slope at the right side of the stage, surrounded by the other singers, he is without his wig. Before the second acoustic song, "You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk", Chris leaves the stage, and returns at the beginning of "I Don't Know What You Want But I Can't Give It Any More" without his wig, instead wearing his white baseball cap. During that song, a film which swoops the viewer through a fituristic architectural world plays behind them. The set finishes with four stoppers: "Always On My Mind" (with new, almost gospel backing vocals), "Shameless" (with a backdrop of tabloid newspaper headlines and photographs), 'Opportunities" (during which the part of the stage Neil is standing on is pushed forward, nearly tripping him up) and "It's A Sin" (which begins with some abstract, stately church organ nodding whilst stained glass effigies of the be wigged Neil and Chris are projected behind them, and which segues into "I Will Survive" towards the end).

They return in white hooded tops to play a stoked-up new arrangement of "It's Airtight" and then, finally, "Go West". Backstage, they talk over the show. "Dusty was a problem today," Marc Brickman, the lighting designer, tells them. "She's still difficult," Neil sighs. "From beyond the grave," adds Chris. They discuss the idea of playing something slower and more beautiful as one of the encores. They consider "Love Comes Quickly". "I can't remember the chords of 'Love Comes Quickly'," Neil says. "Isn't it something to do with B?" says Chris. They wonder instead whether "Footsteps" wouldn't work. It is also pointed Out to them that, in their dark clothes during the second half, they blend in too much with the singers, and the choreography becomes a muddled mishmash. Instead, they resolve to wear the white hooded tops earlier; after the interval. "That sends out the message," Chris says, "it's a in half, not the difficult theoretical stuff we've just had." The wig changes are also cognising and somewhat illogical, so a new scheme is worked Out. First they decided to change the order of "...Drunk" and "Se A Vida F" to avoid the awkward moment when Chris has a wig and Neil doesn't, then they decide that it will make much better sense if they come on in the second half without wigs. They will wear the short wigs, in true encore fashion, as a hair reprise when they return for "It's Alright". And then, even though it's no longer necessary to solve the wig problem, they decide that the new order of the acoustic songs is an improvement. It's also pointed Out to them that one of the famous people in the "Shameless" montage is John F. Kennedy mr, and that in the light of his recent death in a plane crash American audiences might not appreciate his appearance here. They issue instructions for his removal.

To add variety, they wonder whether to give the male backing singers hats at some point in the second half of the show. Police bats are suggested. "I'm not having police hats," says Chris firmly. Baseball hats are suggested. it'll ruin it when you have it," Ian MacNeil tells Chris. "It's iconic." You don't mess with iconic," Neil agrees. White hard hats are suggested. "Let's do that," Neil says. "It seems to fit the aesthetic." "Architecture," Chris agrees.

Part 2
It says," Neil declares, "'hello everyone, architecture... "Good," says Chris. "I think we've earned a drink." In the car, Neil comments that "from a personal point of view, I enjoy doing this show. Particularly 'Shameless'." They go for dinner at the Delano hotel where they are staying. "All I fancy is some caviar," says Chris. "It's too expensive," Neil points out. Chris agrees. "I can't afford it," he says. He scans the menu further. "Oh, charcuterie. I'll have that. I'm only eating for the sake of it." "Well," sighs Neil. "The tour starts tomorrow." Over dinner, Merck proposes that they appear on a popular MTV show called Loveline, on which a doctor, a comedian and a guest comment on callers' sexual problems.

Chris shakes his head. "I'd he terrible on that," he says. "Chris would say something so ghastly," Neil says, "we'd never recover from it." Neil doesn't fancy it much either. "I simply wouldn't feel comfortable," he says. They have already turned down The Donny & Morie Show. "It's an eternal tightrope," Neil says, "somehow being sort of avant-garde and sort of middle -of-the-road, sort of simultaneously." Sensibly, they both decide to have an early night. Wednesday, October 20. They meet for lunch at the Hotel and both order Virgin Marys - Bloody Marys without the alcohol. "It's the drink of the tour," Neil says. "We don't even drink alcohol," Chris claims, implausibly. There has already been some good news today -Disney may want to use some of their songs in a new animated movie about clubbing - but there is also more bad news about the financial woes of Harvey Goldsmith, who was promoting the British leg of their tour. It is becoming clear that the situation will end up personally costing them a great deal of money to ensure that the tour goes ahead, and there is a fair amount of anger in the air as they draft a public statement to explain what is going on. Once that is finished, Neil worries about what he is going to say in between the songs tonight. "You need Mandy on the phone,"

Chris suggests. "Mandy Mandelson." "He doesn't write his own speeches," Neil says. "You need to say three things," Chris offers. "Education, education, education," says Neil. "It's only the wind, only the wind, only the wind," says Chris. "I think you should be a bit more personal," he teases. "You've reached a tipe old age. You've got Tales to tell. Ups and downs..." They discuss for a while what the dignified version of "hello Miami!" would be. "I'd say 'hello Miami'," Chris eventually concludes. Neil suggests that he refers to the fact that Ricky Martin is also playing in Miami tonight - "I'm going to say, 'thank you for choosing our show..."' - and works on a line to link "Happiness Is An Option" and "Can You Forgive Her?": "this is a song about optimism...unlike the next one, which is the normal business-as-usual bitter and twisted...which is where we go hack to being bitter and twisted..." Then he wonders what to say before "You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk". "Can't you say 'here's where I get emotional?"' Merck suggests. "Oh no," chides Chris. "That's not believable." "He'll start laughing," Neil says, looking at Chris. "That'd be a write-off." He thinks some more. "Can I say 'here's where we become the Von Trap Family singers'?" he wonders. And then they discuss whether they can introduce "Sc. A Vida F" as their "Liven' La Vida Loco".

Chris asks Neil who "Se A Vida F" is about. "Who isn't it about?" Neil replies. They discuss the encores. "We can come back on," Chris suggests, "and you can say, 'Chris, what do you think of the show so far?' and I'll say, 'it's alright'." "You suggested that," Neil sighs, "in 1989." Chris goes down to the venue at 3 o'clock so that he has time to have his haircut; Neil follows half an hour later. In the car park, two fans wait both men. "I bought my first record of yours when I was 16," one tells Neil. "I'm now 32." "I'd just like to let you know," the other says, "I appertain your music very much. And I came out of the closet at the age of 40." Inside, in Star Dressing Room A, Ian MacNeil tells them he's worried about the male singers' hard hats. (They've settled on yellow.) Re's not sure about them, and would rather wait until Tampa tomorrow. They talk it over for a while and decide that they should only use the hats during "Go west" anyway. Neil looks darkly towards the corner, where a percolating tureen of coffee sits, filling the air with the dense, sickly, stale aroma. Two of the battles the Pet Shop Boys always face on tour are to avoid plates of cold meat, and to avoid tubs of hot coffee, both of which make the dressing room smell. "Dairston!" summons Neil, and when Dainton arrives Neil simply points at the offending ire. "Nyet," he says. Everyone traipses to the make-up room downstairs. Ian MacNeil reflects on his experience of working with the Pet Shop Boys: "When I first met them," he says, "I said, 'I'm from theatre - I'm going to be asking why a lot'. And they said, 'darling - it's pep music - it's not About why, it's about wow'." Meanwhile Chris re-examines his new wig.

"It's very natty dread," he giggles. "It's not too SigueSigue Sputnik is it?" He laughs. "I'm a rock God." Neil worries about the dreads hanging over Chris's forehead. "It would be more PSB without i~" he suggests. Chris overrules him, for now. "He looks a bit like the guy from the Offspring, Dexter;" says Merck. "It's a triumph," Neil declares. "The Pet Shop Boys have got rock'n'roll." They go up onto the stage to do an interview for a Florida TV show about style, Deco Drive. Before they begin, the hyperactive hostess tells them, with inordinate bubbly pride, "I'm going to close with 'you don't have to he a "West End Girl" or a "New York City Boy" to love these guys'. So that will he nice." She almost seems to be expecting congratulation1. For her first question she asks them "what's the 411?"; they don't know what this means, so it has to be explained. (411 is the code you dial on American telephones for local directory assistance; "what's the 411?" consequently means, "what's the latest information?") She asks them what it is people love about their shows. "The nudity," says Chris, deadpan. Neil gives a long, serious answer about how the spatial liberation offered by producing music live on computers led logically in the past to a theatrical presentation of their songs. "It's almost like an art installation, this one," he says. "If you free the stage of musicians you can do all that." "What arc you hopes for the CD?" she asks. "Hopes?" scoffs Chris. "We don't have any hopes." "Do you want it to be the biggest seller of your career?"

she persists. "We don't think like that," Chris replies. "We're more interested in the creative side." She asks about the way they look in their current photos. "The dresses," she prompts. "Dresses?" says Chris, and - all theatrical presentation - Tums to Neil abruptly. "I knew they'd think they were dresses." "They're actually culottes," says Neil calmly. As they change the camera angle, she tells them "I'm going to ask you what a West End Girl and a New York City Boy is." "I don't know what either is," Chris insists, and looks towards Neil. "What's a 'New York City Boy'?" "It's a boy from New York City," says Neil, patiently. "Apart from the obvious," Chris leaps in. "Isn't their any depth to it?" Neil laughs. "A West End Girl," Neil tells the interviewer, "is a girl going out in the West End on a Friday." "Not on Saturday?" she asks. "Olin on Thursday," Neil says. "Now, Thursday is the new Friday in London," Chris explains. "This" says Neil, "is the 411 on London." On the way hack to the dressing room, they do another, shorter, more useless TV interview. They are asked what exactly a Pet Shop Boy is. Chris simply stares ahead, but Neil methodically tells the story about the Ealing pet shop and the early hip hop groups with "Boys" at the end of their nannies. "It's as simple as that," he says. It's time for the sound check. They begin with "Discoteca". During "Happiness Is An Option" Chris sits in the audience seats for a while to listen to the overall sounds. When Neil sings the line "...I don't think I Suit my face",

Chris says, "He should say, 'I don't think I suit this wig."' They are supposed to see the finished, improved, fixed Dusty Springfield films, hut at 6.05 it still isn't ready. "You know Dusty," Chris says. "She's still a problem. She's still tuning up late." As the intro to "What Have I done to deserve this?" begins, Chris laughs and says, "it's 'Father Figure'." A pause. "Not on purpose," he adds. They try to run the film, but it is a disaster. "Not quite ready for viewing," Chris says. He sighs. "You know, its a lot harder doing a show that's not theatrical. It's much more hard work." Over dinner in the backstage catering area, they discuss the dusty problem, and decide to run very slowly merging photographs of her tonight instead of the film. Isis explained to them that the film people have been plagued with a catalogue of disasters, culminating in a film transfer this afternoon, which was the wrong format. "Maybe Dusty doesn't want it to happen," Neil reflects. "Do you think she doesn't?" Chris worries, then looks alarmed at him self. "Oh, what am I talking about? I don't believe in the afterlife." "I think she'd like it," Neil says. As late-comers arrive at catering, Neil tells them "The roast beef was delicious." "Well," says Chris, not to be outdone, "the chicken was supreme." In the dressing room, Neil does Yoga on the floor while Chris lies on the sofa eating M&Ms. Neil's new radio mic holder is brought in, a little sachet made from the same striped material as the culottes and now quite possibly the campest thing on earth. Merck comes in and reports that none of the merchandise apart from some skinny S-shirts are here, and that the Pet Shop Boys are being offered the feeble excuse that because of last week's hurricane it was all diverted to Chicago. Fury brews. They go down to the make-up room. Chris tries to escape from wearing the thick, blackened eyebrows Which are required, arguing - not entirely accurately -that because of his glasses it will be possible to tell the difference.

As be surely expects, everyone tells him otherwise, and someone begins to say that if you're going to do something, you should... "...Do it half-heartedly, that's what I say," Chris chips in. "That's always been my mono." And, with that, he readily submits to the eyebrow blackening. A few minutes later, he yawns. "You're not tired, are you, Chris?" Merck asks. "Of course I'm tired," Chris replies. "I'm always tired. It's what I do." His wig goes on, and he now offers a new interpretation of it. "It's meant to be a bit King's Road, 1977," he says. He decides that the dreadlocks tentacles hanging over his forehead are too long, and that an inch should be snipped off each. After the deed has been done, he beams. "That's better. That's made all the difference. My wig just got better." "Your favourite wig just got better;" Neil says. "Why don't we use that as a slogan?" Chris wonders. "'Your favourite group just got better'." Now Neil looks at himself in the mirror. "I love my wig," he declares. "Mine," says Chris, still happy, "is a bit like Fido Dido." The wigs and make-up are on, and me show doesn't start until 8.1 5pm. "It's only 25 past flaming 7," Neil complains. "Right," Chris announces, "we started too early, everyone." "I think we could do the whole thing in one hour," Neil decides. They sit silently. "I'm at the point of thinking 'why oh why are we doing this?"' says Neil. This is probably meant as rhetorical, but typically Claris doesn't take it as such and considers the answer. "It's not for financial reasons," be says. More silence. "I love this wig," Chris says. "I don't need to do anything. it does all the work." He panses for a moment and then ads, "I've actually taught it to play the keyboards." They now decide that they want to take these wigs off again, to that they can get used to putting them on just before going on stage, and so that Claris can lie down. Only once this has been reluctantly agreed by Clsriaaie do they decide not to do it. "I'm going to prude my lines," Neil say.

"'Good evening, we're the Pet Shop Boys..."' Claris lightly pokes him at some along introductions from previous tours. "Claris," says Neil, "you are welcome to do the introductions yourself..." "No," Chris declines, "I'm quite looking forward to them. 'That was an old song, now we're going to do a new song..."' "Chris!" Neil beseeches. "Don't do this before I go on, or I won't be able to do it." He practises some lines, then sighs. "That's one of the problems with being English. It's much easier to do this stuff in an American accent. Then you can call them 'you guy..."' "'Do you want the 411 on our new album,"' Chris mock-announces, "'or have you all been 86-ed?"' Neil chats about the time they went to see Elton John and he stopped in the middle of the song and said "oh silly me!" because he had forgotten to do "Bennie And The Jets", and simply went back and did it there and then, and how crazy the crowd went, and they discuss how much people seem to like those kind of mistakes. Consuela asks Chris, "do you want to change your trousers now?" Chris lies there. "I could think about it," he says. Rafael from EMI Latino comes in to say hello. He tells them they look older than when he last saw them. "Well, you don't look younger either," Chris says. Rafael nods in acknowledgement. "Less hair," he concedes. "Well," says Chris, "we've got more now." They arc called to the stage. "I'm looking good, feeling great," Neil says. "Well, feeling great," says Chris. They stand behind the stage. The green interference Starts up and the Miami crowd roar. It's 8.15. '1 thought the interference came before 8.15," Chris says.

"It's part of the show" Neil says. "I though," says Claris, "it was a transitional period." Neil looks at Claris. "Oh, shut up," he says. His next words, into the microphone, still standing here next to Claris, are the opening line of "For Your Own Good". In the Nineties America has in many ways been one of the Pet Shop Boys' weakest markets - though their albums have sold consistently they haven't had a hit single for over ten years - but if there was any doubt whether there was an audience here keen to see the Pet Shop Boys it disappears the moment the curtain drops near the beginning of "West End Girls". At the first clear sight of Claris and Neil, pandemonium breaks out and never really subsides. Most of the introductions are simple, though before "Can You Forgive Her?", Neil gives a version of the lines he was working on at lunchtime: "That's a song from our new album. It's an optimistic song...this next song is more of a typical bitter and twisted kind of thing." At the end of "What Have I Done To Deserve this?" Neil turns to the image of Dusty and blows her a kiss. As "Left To My Own

Devices", the final song of the first half, famished, Neil, standing at the front of the stage, melodramatically lifts off his wig Chris does the tarne but only as he is walking off. ruing the half-time interval, they retire to the dressing room. "So," asks Chris, "'luke' and 'warm' aren't in the building?" Re smiles at Neil. "It's great when you take your wig off." "I held my hand above it for a little while," Neil laughs. "Mainly because I was trying to work out how to do it." Chris teases Neil about the Dusty kiss. "Oh, you are a tart," he says. "You're not going to do it every night, are you?" "I might," Neil says. "It says so many things. Sort of 'thank you', and 'goodbye' as well." The second half is received as the first at. During the middle-eight of "You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk", Neil begins singing "all of my fiends..." then realises he's not pitching right, so he simply stops, laughs, says "I'll do that again", and goes "

...two, three, four...all of my friends..." and is back in the song. It is something of an Elton John "oh silly me" moment and the Miami audience simply love it. During "Se A Vida E" he simply stops playing guitar in the end because he thinks he's out of tune with it, but it sounds fine anyhow. "Shameless" still features JFK JR - and, previously unnoticed, Princess Diana, who may also be an unfortunate choice - but no one seems to notice or react badly. After "It's A Sin" finishes and they wave farewell, they sit on chairs behind the stage quickly changing and having the short blond wigs glued on. "It's gonna be alright," says Neil after the first encore, and then says "I'd like to thank you for Coming to see us instead of Ricky Martin...", at which point he is around by the roar of the crowd. Neil introduces everyone; when Chris is introduced he sticks his tongue out. "I'd sincerely like to thank you for being such a fabulous audience on the first night of the tour," Neil announces, touchingly. "It makes it wonderful for us -thank you so much."

They are followed backstage, as agreed earlier, by the crew from MTV Latino. "Chris is in the toilette," Dainton explains, in front of them, in the dressing room. "That's slightly more than you all needed to know," says Neil. During the interview Neil says, "we did this whole Latin thing three years ago with 'Se A Vida E"'. When they ask what Nightlife is about, Chris simply says over to you, Neil." Neil nods. "This is one of my questions," he tells them, then answers It. They are asked about the way they look. "It's just what we wear normally," Chris bluffs. "It's how we feel comfortable," Neil says. Chris is asked whether he feels as though they are underrated because they make electronic dance music. "Well, I just believe you should make the music that you like," he says. "We called an album Disco when it was S dirty word...I don't feel vindicated, particularly, but it's obviously the best musical form, there's no doubt about that." They ask where the tour will be visiting and Neil lists some Countries. Chris feigns horror. "You didn't tell me that!" he says to Neil. "Kept me in the dark..." They briefly mingle at the meet'n'greet then sign autographs out the back. "How's Nightlife coming along?" one fan asks. "What?" says Neil, puzzled. "The musical?" "It's not called Nightlife," Neil points Out. "What's it called?" "Not telling you," Neil snaps. "It's a secret." There is an open-Sir party thrown by their record company on top of the Sony building, with a panoramic view over the streets of Miami's South Beach. After that, Neil retires to his hotel room where he lies on the couch, listening to Bach, eating olives and cashew nuts. Chris goes on to another party at a new club run by Ingrid Caesars for a few quiet drinks and a small dance. "Do you know," he says, late into the evening,"there's something nice about Americans..

Thursday, October 21.

The bus leaves for Tampa, on Florida's West Coast, at 11am. The Pet Shop Boys sit at the lounge in the back. Chris complains about the supposedly jolly little computerised drawings on the day sheet: the piece of paper put under the hotel doors of everyone on the tour at night, telling what they will he doing the next day, and at what time they will be doing it. "Girls always like things like that," he buffs. "What I really hate is when they have a bottle of champagne cracked open." The bus slowly makes its way through the Miami suburbs. "Why Can't we just dos season here?" Chris asks. "I like it," Neil declares. "We'll just do two months at the Jackie Gleason Theatre." The bus moves on towards Tampa, regardless, and they talk about the fans they met last night from all over the world. "It's not often you meet someone from Lima," Neil notes. "This is quite a nice bus," Chris says. "It's not too woody." "It's not too sleazy," Neil agrees. "It's not too fun. A lot of these buses are very furry." They realise that it's time to choose their sleeping place for the tour (though, truth to tell, the Pet Shop Boys plan to spend very few nights on the bus). "It's bagging hunks!" says Neil with gusto. "I think I want to be in the middle," Chris decides. And they discuss what it is, and isn't, possible to do whilst lying in such bunks. Chris flicks through a magazine. "Guess what Bush's album is called' he scoffs. "The Science of Things." Be says the last word - "things" - in such a way as to leave absolutely no doubt how feeble he finds it. James comes back to consult with Neil and Chris about on-the-road sustenance. "Are we happy with a truck-stop lunch?" he inquires. "Yes," says Chris. "Or something in the Egon Ronoy guide." "Or Denny S',"

James suggests. "I'd rather not have Denny S'," Neil says, "because we know the menu and, to be honest, it's a bit on the gruesome side." "So, just stop," James concludes. "One that looks authentic," Neil nods. Neil reads a positive review of Nightlife in Rolling Stone magazine. "It's got a great description," he relates. "'Eurotrash disco's answer to the Grateful Dead'." One comment does, however, puzzle him - the review says that "Closer to Heaven" has a guitar hook borrowed from U2. This is doubly perplexing: "Closer To Heaven" doesn't have a guitar hook, and no one here can think of any similarity the song has to anything by U2. Neil declares that we will have to listen to the CD, and begins rummaging around, looking for his copy of it. Chris, who thinks it is funny that Neil has brought a copy of nightlife on tour, says, teasing, "Oh, you've got our CD". "Chris," Neil retorts, "I've got the album because you told me I was doing the inflection of 'Happiness Is an Option' wrong." Even when "Closer To Heaven" is played, it takes a while to work out what the reviewer is talking about, but it is eventually decided that the keyboard at the beginning could be seen to sound a little like the beginning of U2's "New Year's Day". At around 2.OOpm the bus pulls into a truck stop. "We're trailer trash," says Neil, slightly thrilled. "Always have been. We're having lunch in a trailer park. I'm so excited." At a diner called Grandma's Kitchen, they both order pork chops. Ten minutes later the waitress retums to tell them that they're all out of pork chops. They re-order, and discuss an acquaintance who has had sex with one of the cast of Friends.

Neil wanders off to the part of the diner devoted to shopping and returns with a video of the Ian MacKellen film Apt Pupil to watch on the bus. After lunch, Neil has to do an interview on the phone from the hack of the bus with a Denver radio station: "Hello Jerny...it was fantastic - one of the best concerts we've ever done...'Varnpires' is kind of about how drugs destroy relationships, and communication between people.... And people stay up all night and sleep all day...in England we don't say electronic; electronics makes it sound like it's a completely brand-new form. Krafiwerk released Autobahn in 1973 and then Madonna does Ray Of Light in 1998 and suddenly she's doing techno...we did 'DJ Culture' years ago, in 1991. That was more about the rave scene in away; thai was when the superstar DJs were just about to emerge...I particularly like the Chemical Brothers when they sound electronic. I find it a bit boring when they do the rock stuff like with Noel Gallsgher...it's not 5 case of 'intellectualise pop', it's mores case of pop music that has some kind of integrity to it, that has an opinion or a point of view - that doesn't exist in pop music at the moment. It's not an industrial process where you know they have a certain shelf-life and it's how to maximise it...There have been times when pop music was about something, like the Eighties with the Human League, Culture Club and ABC - it was a very ambitious period...Fatboy Slim has the same audience as the Human League would have had fifteen years ago...l like to write songs which have wit and humour in them - I'd quite like to write more of them but we don't think of them that often. Most of our songs are sincere...the musical is basically about sex, drugs and fame. Ambition, really.... [Laughs] I like 'sex, drugs and trains'! That's a great combination. I might remember that...I absolutely hated Rent. When I saw it on Broadway,

the audience gave it a standing ovation. Apart from me. It sounded like early Seventies rock. And I doubted its sincerity - it presented having IIIV or AIDS as a cutting edge lifestyle. Also, more to the point, I hated the characters and the music. It hijacked the emotion of sympathy towards people with HIV or AIDS, and not to a particularly good purpose...I don't consider myself represented ass gay person by anyone else and I don't want to represent anyone else...I think we're ignoring the fact that we're getting old. Some people are really old when they're 20.1 think we've always been really immature...We really like making records; that's what it really boils down to. We also like making shows. We like doing new things...in the show you see us real and unreal. You don't just have to look like you. One doesn't have to just be oneself all the time. One has the opportunity to be someone completely different..." As he clicks off the call, Neil looks at the display and says, "That was 21 minutes 52 seconds". Merck asks whether they will give "Always On My Mind" to a compilation. Neil, inspecting the relevant fax, is annoyed that the people asking don't even know what the song is called - "it's not 'You're Always On My Mind'," he points out - and says he'd rather give a song which the Pet Shop Boys wrote. "The one I like putting on at the moment" he says, "is 'Se A Vida E', to remind everyone we invented Latin music." There is another request, so strange that they can't even really take it seriously: that the Pet Shop Boys should perform the American national anthem in Atlanta before one of the games of baseball's World Series. "I'd be in the audience, tittering," Chris says. "No you wouldn't," says Neil steamily. "Would you be doing it in a yellow wig?" Chris wonders. "Of course," Neil says.

"They'd think we were taking the mickey," Chris worries. One other potential problem: neither of them knows the American national anthem. Merck tells them they should do it. The TV audience will be one hundred million people. "I think we should be able to do 'Go West' as well," Chris suggests. Re smiles. "It's finny, because you definitely wouldn't be able to get us to sing the English national anthem." They arrive in Tampa. Outside the venue, a serious man asks them to sign a copy of Actually. "Can you use the blue pen?" he asks. "Why?" Chris asks. "Because the black yellows over time," the man says. Inside, in the corridor, Neil asks Peter Schwartz to reduce the gap he leaves between "New York City Boy" and "Left To My Own Devices", during which Neil and the four male singers freeze in position at the centre of the stage. "You can milk it," Neil says, "but don't let us stay there all night. Because I start to cramp..." Chris walks into the dressing room and its. It's the water. "It's Perrier, not Evian," he points out. He lies down on the sofa. "Chris travels with his own pillow," Neil notes, accurately. (It is taken by the wardrobe department from venue to venue.) After sound check the singers try on some maroon capes they are now going to wear during "It's A Sin". There is some debate about how low they should hang. "When I was an altar boy," Neil chips in, "mine came to about here...", and he holds his hand level with the middle of his calf. By now, the doors are open and the crowd is filtering in. Tonight's show is not yet sold-out, but they are hoping for a healthy walk-up (the term for people who turn up and buy tickets on the night). Chris is still on the sofa. "You lie down," Neil tells him, "during the walk-up." In the make-up room, various claims to fame are exchanged. Alibi, their make-up artist, says that she has a pair of golf clubs, which John F Kennedy gave to Her father. Ian MacNeil says that his father was one of the press in Kennedy's Dallas motorcade when he was shot, and, on his way into a nearby book depository to find a phone, bumped into a man leaving in a hurry. "My father shook Jimmy Carter's hand,

" Neil says. "What was the first town Jimmy Carter went to outside the United States after he became President? Newcastle. My father stood in the crowd outside Newcastle City Centre - Carter walked past with James Callaghan and they shook his hand." Wigs are applied. Neil looks at the back of his, worried. "Oh hello," he says. "What's happened here?" He needs to monitor that things don't get out of hand: "Just watching the Nik Kershaw effect," he explains. "I feel a hit like Side-show Bob," Chris says. Neil chooses this moment to gargle some water. Chris is understandably outraged. "Did you see that?" he demands. "'I've never gargled in my life'!" Neil puts on his striped outfit. "This dress is only held up by a button," he notes; it seems only polite to point out, as he always does, that this is not a dress hot, rather, culottes. Compared with last nigh the audience is fairly subdued. They don't stand until "New York City Boy", though that get a standing ovation and they stay dancing for "Left To My Own Devices." "It's a family audience," says Neil, backstage, during the interval. "Is the lighting brighter tonight?" Chris worries. "I feel very exposed." Merck comes backstage and tells them: "For a secondary market we've done really well." Once they've changed, they wait just behind the stage set. "Ooh," says Chris, "it's 'For Your Own Good' now, isn't it?" No, it's not. They've already done that. "Oh," he nods. "It's 'Young Offender'. I wonder how that goes down." The second half goes well, though Neil loses his place in "Opportunities" and mixes up the verse and the chorus. Before the encores they slip into their short wigs. "More! More! More '...." shout the crowd. "Less! Less! Less!" says Chris. During "It's Alright" Neil loses his place again, and then Sylvia loses hers. "I think we just about got away with it" Neil says after. "Just about," says Chris. He reports that some people were standing at the front with their arms crossed.

"One girl was asleep," he says, accurately. "Fast asleep." "How could you sleep with that racket?" Neil wonders. Their American booking agent comes in, fill of enthusiasm about "New York City Boy". "That's got a Real shot to be a hit," he says. "The first time you hear it it's familiar-sounding." "Yeah," says Neil. "It sounds like the Village People." "The last show was more shocking," the agent says, meaning the 1991 Performance tour. "I was shocked when I saw it on video," Neil agrees. "It was all happening behind me. My parents said it was pomographic and I said 'oh, no...' but then I looked at the video..." They pile onto the bus fairly quickly, as they must drive to Orlando, in the middle of Florida, tonight. A bottle of wine is opened as the bus moves off. "Only paper cups," Dainton apologises. "It's an absolute disaster," Neil commentates. "We could have stolen glasses from the venue." "That," Chris interjects, "would be stealing." The agent, Peter, and his associate, Keith, are on the bus with them. "We're in Rolling Stone as 'the Grateful Dead of Eurodisco," Neil tells them. "That's a T-shirt in the making," Keith says. "I have, by the way," Neil says, "managed to get through forty-five years on this planet without actually hearing The Gratelul Dead." "The music wasn't really the point?" Peter says. "Well," says Neil, "what was the point?" We leave the outskirts of Tampa, not before deciding that a fine Smash Hits feature would he Tempura with the Tampered in Tampa. "It's almost worth doing," Neil says. "And then you go out and buy tampons with them." Most of the journey is taken up with an in-depth discussion of a large live-music project, which the Pet Shop Boys have invented. They arrive at the Orlando Peabody Hotel, where they last stayed while making the "Se A Vida F" video, in the early hours of the morning, but still stay on the bus for a while, continuing the discussion. When they eventually try to get off the bus, they discover that the door is locked. After a while they escape and go to bed.

Friday, October22.

Around lanehunac Neil and Chris are scheduled to go across town for a radio interview, with Merck Dainton and Literally in tow. But it all goes wrong.A small car which couldn't fit everybody in turns up. A limbo is ordered but will take a few minutes. Meanwhile Chris hasn't appeared because he has been waiting in his room to be called. Eventually Neil makes a decision - he jumps into the small car with Merck and Icaves. He'll do the interview alone. Chris appears a couple of minutes later. "I'm absolutely devastated" he insists. He goes for lunch at the hotel's diner. "I just seem to be eating too many burgers at the moment," he says. "I could always Have a salad...but I don't fancy that" It takes Neil 45 minutes in traffic to get to the radio station; when they get there they have to wait a further 25 minutes and discover that the interview isn't even being broadcast live. And the local record company man doesn't even seem to know that they have a new album out but there is some compensation. "Sitting in reception was great" he reports afterwards. "Like a Robert AIrman film. They kept asking for someone called Dick Sheets. I met a girl called Savannah - I was looking for the men's room. It was weird. The receptionist's take on the Pet Shop Boys was weird: 'Did you do a song with Tins Turner? I love that song. That's one of my favourite songs.' So that's her take on the Pet Shop Boys - we did a song on Tina Turner's worst selling album. I said 'are you coming to our concert?' and she said 'Is it only you guys?'

I said, 'that's quite enough, thank you'." By the time they have to leave for the yen, a limo has been found. On the way there, they go through a questionnaire for US magazine who are doing a fashion shoot with them in Atlanta. There are fifteen questions. For instance: What is the rock in gist outfit you've worn onstage? "A full length black coat I'm wearing in our current tour," says Neil. "It makes me feel like a statue." "Mine was when I was dressed as a rock God in our 1991 Performance tour," Chris says. "1 was wearing a leopard skin jump-suit and I had my hair is quaff. But I'm always a bit embarrassed by what I wear on stage." When have you looked the dorkiest? "1don't think I've ever appeared dorky," Chris says. "We don't do dark." 'Irrigate nothing," says Neil. Do you give each other style tips? "The advice we give each other when buying clothes," says Neil, "is along the lines of 'isn't that the sort of thing you like?"' "To which," Chris says, "I would normally reply 'no'." What would you like to change into yourself]?

"Where do you start?" says Neil. "Where would it end?" says Chris. The venue is the Orlando Hard Rock Live. It's much smaller that the previous two halls, and only some of Zaha Hasid's set can be fitted in. "11 is," explains Mare Brickmsn, "a Mini-me day." Chris goes into the production office where it is his tom to do a telephone interview: "It's Chris...Further back, since conception...That was destiny, yeah...Yeah, let's not go in there...'Se A Vida A'' - it's a Latin song. We're calling it 'Se A Vida Locs' now...Well, we don't go anywhere without an entourage. You've got to have an entourage in the Nineties...Oh, it's a posse, is it...Yeah, I don't Know where he is now. He's probably on the toilet..." He picks his nose as he talks. When he's asked where they got the name the Pet Shop Boys he says"1 don't answer that question any more." On the zebra skin rug on the dressing room floor, Neil does his yoga. The dressing room walls are littered with gold discs: The Scorpions' Love At First Sting, There are tour posters of Guns N' Roses, LA Guns, with Tower Of Power and Dancing with Sound garden. Jarnes is summoned. Chris wants to make sure that Prince Naseem's fight, which takes place in Detroit tonight while they are on stage, can be videoed. "I'm working on it" James says. "Working on it?" Chris queries. "Priorities! We're prioritising." "Right," says James.

"We won't collect the money for the show but we will get the video." If he expects this will tempt Chris to back down he is very much mistaken. "Exactly," says Chris, as though he is pleased to have been clearly understood. Neil Sits on the zebra rug and practises standing op in his culottes, as he does in "Being Boring". He's not sure whether he can get up and sing the third verse at the same time, and he decides he should stand up fully before he starts singing. A mounted photo of Chris ass rock God during "How Can You Expect To Be Taken Seriously?" from the Performance tour is brought in to be signed. "This is the outfit you were discussing earlier," Neil points out. "Isn't that ironic?" says Chris. "It's what pretentious Geordies would call synchronicity," Neil says, and exhales forcefully as though he can bear to keep silent no longer. "Sting's album titles!" he buffs.

"The Dream of The Blue Turtles! Imagine thinking, 'I've got the album title -The Soul Cages'. It's using 'cages' as a verb, isn't it?" 'I've never thought of it like that," Chris confesses. 'I've spent a long time thinking about that," says Neil. "So, Neil," Chris says, "it's quite a provocative title?" Neil nods, and replies with mock solemnity, "it challenges our very notions of language." Chris rebuffs all suggestions that he should begin to get ready Tar the show. He says that he has now worked Out he can get his wig on and change after the music starts. 'Should get paid more for the show," Neil mutters. "I'm on for 22 songs. Chris is only on for 20 of them."

The main part of tonight's crowd, downstairs, are standing up, rammed against the stage. The Pet Shop Boys prefer this. Before they go on Chris suggests that after this tour they should only ever play to standing audiences. "I'll tell you what gets a big cheer every night," h says to Neil during the interval. "'Debussy to a disco beat'." "It's because it's such a silly line," Neil says. "It's because they think they're raid," says Chris. "They don't use that word any more," he adds. Merck, whose parents are here, reports hack. "Their favourite song is 'Only The Wind'," he says. "Mine too," says Neil. Chris goes into the bathroom, where mere are signed photos from Bon Jovi and Aerosmith. "Have yr noticed," he says when he emerges, "that all rock groups have the same autographs? Practised ones with loopy bits." They walk back towards the stage. "You could do a stage dive here," Neil says. "Why don't you do it?" Chris suggests. "You've always wanted to." "No," Neil points out. "You've always wanted to." Tonight, before "Go West", Neil tells the crowd about the Rolling Stone review and the Grateful Dead comparison, and says that this makes their fans "Petheads". Afterwards he explained that the name hi come to him while he was singing "Vampires". "I was going to get you to say something," he tell'. Chris, "but I thought you might not like it." Chris is yet to speak onstage during this tour. "No," Chris says. "Because I thought they'd quite like to hear you," Neil continues.

"Well, tough," Chris says. "One night I might just do it," Neil says. They change clothes. "I suppose it's hack to the hotel now," Chris says. "To our lonely rooms. I don't know how you cope Witter all that adulation, Neil, then back to your room." "A little adulation goes a long way," Neil says. On the bus they watch the Naseem fight. "I love the way he fights with his arms down," Chris says. "If boxed, that's the way I would box." Naseem wins unconvincingly, but he wins nonetheless. "I should be there," says Chris. "My fans expect it." Back St the hotel Chris complains to the waitress i] the bar that they no longer make the buffalo wings he enjoyed so much on the Pet Shop Boys' previous visit. "They were the best ones I've ever had," he says. "They were the bomb," Neil echoes. "And now they've gone 86." He sighs."God, I'm nickered." "Well," says Chris, "you gave it 110% tonight." "Yes," says Neil, "I am in 110% mottle." He looks St his watch. "It's quarter past one," he says, vaguely appalled. "It's what?" exclaims Chris. "It's bedtime," Neil says. "It's flaming bedtime," Chris agrees.

Saturday, October 30

Los Angeles In the days since Literally last visited the tour, the Pet Shop Boys have been to Atlanta, where they didn't perform the American national anthem, though Chris did attend the baseball game in question. ("It works better on television," he will report. "It goes on forever.") On the same night off; Neil did however see the beginning of Ricky Martin's show (not too impressive) and they saw Robbie Williams' performance at the venue where they would play the next night (Robbie's concert is only half-full, but good). Robbie Williams also, incidentally, sung "Liven' La Vida Loca". "And," says Neil, "I've got to be honest, he sung it much better." After Atlanta, they played in Houston and Dallas, and enjoyed memorable post-show nights out in both cities, then commuted to San Diego (where, before the show, Neil goes for a Rick Shaw ride with Dainton) from their new temporary base at the Chateau Marmot hotel in Los Angeles. Tonight's show at Irvine Meadows, about an hour south of Hollywood, is billed as a Halloween party. The bus is scheduled to leave at 3pm. Neil is already on board, watching a cable TV documentary about royal security officers. "You're not watching this rubbish are you, Neil?" Chris asks. "Not really," Neil says. Chris wants to find March Of The Day. The bus has a satellite TV system which can beam down hundreds of channels from round the world, and Chris looks for English football, but all he can find is Hamburg versus Dortmuns so he Tums over to MTV. There's an advert for Ricky Martin's tour. "He does a great bum wiggle," Chris points out. "Fantastic, isn't it?" Neil says lie's just been to the health food store across the road where the shop assistant informed him that she was a good friend with John Taylor, formerly of Duran Duran. "He's on the program with me," she said, and told Neil about John Taylor's new band and their club dates. "I suddenly felt very lucky," Neil says. "We're playing Irvine Meadows." "And you're not on the program," Merck points out "We're not on the program yet," Neil agrees. "I'm saving that for my Sixties when I gab new age."

Merck hands Neil tile phone. Time for a radio interview with Detroit.' "The crowds are fantastic...Though we haven't been on the radio in America in the Nineties, we've had four albums and They've all sold steadily and we have a large cult following...I think the Internet brings people together now, doesn't it...If you look on the Internet there's hundreds of sites about us..." And it's over. "That was quick," Neil comments. "Quick is good," Merck says. Merck lines up another Detroit interview on the phone. "Are you ready for Chris Lowe?" he asks them. "I'm not ready for them," Chris says, quietly. He takes the phone into his hunk and re tosses to let anyone listen. Neil says that they watched a video of the show last night on the bus back from San Diego. He was a bit shocked to hear the backing singers singing out of tune. "I'm supposed to be the one who sings out of tune," he says. At the venue Chris hears some good Nevis. A while back, having decided that his keyboard stand was not in the style of the rest of the set, he asked Zaha Hadid's team to design something better. (A large one for his keyboards and a smaller one for the keyboard Neil play during "Go west".) At considerable cost they have done so. "Are they here?" he hoots. "Oooohh-hahhan! Shall we take the wrapping off?" He stares at the result - an elegantly stand which slopes at the same angle as the off-vertical lines of the set. "It's just a bit of wood!" he exclaims. "We could have knocked that up. Why did it take five weeks?" (Nonetheless, he seems pleased.) "Oh, they're groovy," Neil says. "They've very fab. They're deeply fab." "No one else has stands like that," Chris says. Neil talks to Billie and Steve, two of the dancers. "Chris and I, on the way back last night, watched the show," he says. "It's a fantastic show. I thought hallway through last night that it was boring, but it's not." Chris takes to a sofa in the dressing room. "I must say I'm quite enjoying America," he says. "It's certainly not PSB versus America. It's America embracing the dear old Pets.

" Outside, Neil sound checks with the backing singers. Between Pet Shop Boys songs, the singers launch into The Peech Boys "Don't Make Me Wait", and Neil joins in. After they run through "New York City Boy" Neil tells them, "I always feel like we should come on in roller-skates in that song and slide down me ramp like we're in Starlight Express." After, there is a short meeting about the Dusty film in What Have I Done To Deserve This?" In recent shows it has still been messing up in various ways. "We need an exorcist," Merck suggests. "I'll tell you now," Neil says, "Dusty never liked that way she looked in that video." They decide that They will try to listen to her with the original video for the final time tonight. "I think we should give Dusty one last go," Neil says, "and if she doesn't want to do it, she won't do it. We'll let Dusty decide." Neil walks into the dressing room. His face falls. "Don't tell me it's happened!" he says, staring at a metal cylinder on stable. "We haven't got coffee." "I think it's just hot water," placates Merck. Neil pushes down on the faucet. Brown liquid drips Out. "No. It's coffee." He sighs. "You can't not have it." They are scheduled to do a Tu' interview with a British crew from T4. Neil wonders what to wear, momentarily considering a hat. "It's not what I'm about," he remembers, and takes it off. As he does so, a rather nervous man hovers in the doorway. "I'm here to get the coffee pot," he explains. They do the interview in the open air behind the stage. The interviewer introduces him self and says, by way of Smalltalk, that he hopes they're doing his favourite song,

"Rent". They're not, of course. They talk about the tour. "Last night in San Diego was crazy," Neil says. "People were banging on the front of the stage." "I like staying in hotels," says Chris. "You can get your laundry done and everything." And about the costumes. "Neil's wearing a dress," Chris says. "It's not 5 dress," Neil connects. "It is," says Chris. "It's culottes," Neil insists. "It's culottes posing as a dress," Chris declares. And about "...Drunk". "It's quite fanny," Neil says, "but it's sad, and it gives you a big guilty conscience because you've done it." And about whether they travel in a Venga-bus. "We've got a disco bus," Chris says. "I don't think that makes it a Venga-bus," says Neil. "We've got an Arsene Wenger bus," Chris says, "because we get Sky Sports." "I hide in the back when they play sports," adds Neil. Next Chris is led into a room to do an interview with a bloke called Tom from what he soon discovers is writing for a magazine about the Eighties. "Oh," says Chris. "I've been tricked into doing the Eighties." (As a rule, the Pet Shop Boys avoid Eighties nostalgia.) The interviewer, in a long preamble, refers to Chris as the Pet Shop Boys' silent partner. When he begins to ask questions Chris say, "yeah, well, remember I am the silent partner. Don't expect too much." The interviewer refers to Liza Minnelli's Results as "one of the most underrated albums of the Nineties." "I like that," Chris says. "'One of the most Underrated albums of the Nineties'. It should be a sticker." They talk about older songs. "'Rent' was written as a high energy stumped," Chris points out, "but we had too many of those on the album. Andy Richards changed the beats." Then he asks Chris about his front man moments onstage, doing "Paninaro" and

"We All Feel Better In The Dark". "Unfortunately," Chris says, "in this show I don't do anything, because Neil wouldn't let me. I wanted to. So if there are any fans disappointed, that's why. His ego's out of control." "Got you," says the interviewer, eamestly. A moment later, Chris pulls the conversation back. "I was being ironic with the concerts, me not performing," he points Out. "I just thought, Neil might read it." The interviewer tells Chris he has seen the Pet Shop Boys eight times, and that at the Universal Amphitheatre in 1991 he was near Axi Rose and heard him say to one of his bantams "We've got to do something like this". He mentions that Nightitfe seems, to him, a step back towards more traditional Pet Shop Boys material. "Yeah, other people have said that," Chris says. "We don't tend to think along those lines. To me it just seems a perfectly natural record to have made...Craig Armstrong had this very strong idea we should go back to simpler arrangements." At the end he asks Chris where he sees the Pet Shop Boys in another fifteen years. "We never had any long term plans," Chris says. "We only ever had short term Fifteen years is a very long time." The outdoor catering area is decorated with a Halloween theme. As he eats, Neil worries that he's getting conjunctivitis. "Conjunctivitis never entirely goes away," he says. "You get it, you've got it." He first got it when they made the "Being Boring" video: "I've never entirely forgiven Long Island for that." Chris orders a vodka and tonic, and they talk about the tour. "We're here to crack America," Chris summarises. "We're here to crack America in one sixteen-date tour," Neil expands, "in our interesting career in reverse, where you pay your dues afterwards. Next we'll do a club tour. Then a garage tour." "And then a DJ tour," Merck suggests. "I don't know why I'm not doing that," Chris

"I could em a lot more money." "Yeah," says Neil. "I don't know why we haven't got you out doing that" Chris discusses how he'd do it - with someone else putting on the records and doing all the work. "It's freezing, Neil complains. "Yeah, let's go in," Chris says, and sings, to the tune of George MicIssel's most recent hit, "let's go Inside..." In the dressing room, Neil subsides onto the sofa. "My sofa's here," he says. "That's mine," says Chris. "That's in my rider." "It's the new Pet Shop Boys," Neil giggles, releasing to budge. "I quite like my new role - lie down and do nothing all day." And then he instigates a discussion about the formats and tactics relating to "You Only Tell Me You Love Me When You're Drunk's British single release. Neil's eye medicine arrives, and the projectionist comes in to say that the Pet Shop Boys' films can't be focused until the show because the screen is being used to project Frankenstein for the arriving fans. A DJ is playing loud dance music in front of it. "Doob, it's noisy music they keep playing," Neil says. Can they Tums it down?" "We've only got Mumm champagne here," says Chris. "It's a bad sign." ATB's "9PM (Till I Comey' begins. "I love this record," Chris says, and then reconsiders his enthusiasm - perhaps they thought they be playing records this good before the Pet Shop Boys come on. "Don't you think this music's just a bit too good?" he wonders. "Bring hack that rubbish." He Tums to Neil: "It's just like Creamfields - we're following I4Obpm trance stoppers." He muses on current dance music, and in the way the chords and repetitive melodies work with and against each other in the best trance records. He enthuses about Alice DJ's "Better Off Alone". "You've got this really sad lonely little tune on top," he says, "and these wonderful underlying chords underneath. And then when she comes in and sings '...you're better off alone...', you just want to die. You want to die gloriously. That's why I love the Lange mix of 'New York City Boy'." He laughs. "Neil really hates it." Neil, meanwhile, has his second glass of white wine, an unusual occurrence which does not pass Chris by. "He's going for it," Chris decides. "There'll be a lot of that," he tells his sister, who has just arrived, slapping a thigh with an outstretched hand. "Actually," he adds quietly, "Neil's been giving great performances." Billie pops his head in. "Neil," he says.

"You're born July 10th?" "Yeah," Neil agrees. "I'm July 6th!" says Billie, who seems to find this near-coincidence quite remarkable. "I'm a Cancer too." "You're a Cancer, I'm a Cancer too," Neil says. Chris puts on his wig. "Side-show Bob," he points Out to Murray, the Pet Shop Boys' British publican "It reminds Mk of Jean-Michel Basaquiat as well," Murray says. The audience is peppered with people in Halloween costumes, and Spirits are high. During "What Have I Done To Deserve this?" Dusty Springfield responds to her final warning and lip-svnes perfectly. "Neil," Chris criticises during the interval, "you've started saying 'thank you very much' after every song. Who used to say it?" Neil knows what he is referring to. "Alison Moyct," he replies. "She'd say 'cheers, thanks' after every song in Yazoo." He adds, witheringly, "Chris, you can have a microphone if you want" Chris happily declines the offer. "No," he says, "I'll just pick at you." The show concludes happily, though Neil has to stop "...Drunk" because his guitar isn't working. "It's bloody freezing," says Chris as he walks off. "It's absolutely tatters in the mould," agrees Dainton. "You know - when you get potatoes with mould on. Cold." "I'll be needing thermals if we do moor out doors shows," Chris says. "'...Drunk', it was a dodgy lead," Neil reports. "It's always a dodgy lead," Chris says. Neil nods. "It's always a dodgy lead," he echoes. Chris washes his face then dries himself off. As usual, he complains about the fluff, which deposits itself from the towel, as he does this. It is another problem -like the coffee - caused by the routine hospitality offered backstage at such events. The towels left in the dressing room are inevitably brand new, and consequently are pregnant with unattached fluff. Chris wonders whether it would be possible to arrange for all backstage towels on the tour to be washed once before the Pet Shop Boys get to town.

James pops backstage to talk about the new keyboard stands. They're currently black, but he suggests that they'd look better chrome, and the Pet Shop Boys agree. (By tomorrow they will be chrome.) On the way to the bus they greet some drag queens from Alaska. One aboard, Neil says, "I'll have 5 VIN rouge, maybe a few tortilla chips."' "Vin rouge," scoffs Chris. "You are pretentious." Driving away from the venue they spot two look alike with wig-style hair. "You know what," Neil says. "It's a great look." They enjoy a night-cap at the Chateau Marmont bar. "I've got a new idea for our new record," Neil says. He has been reading Francis When's biography of Karl Marx. "It's based on the Marxist dialectic. I didn't realise what it meant - two totally opposing ideas. I thought 'what a great way of making a record -think of two antitheses

Sunday, October 31. The bus leaves for Las Vegas at II .3Oam.

Though Chris hat declared many times that he will fly to Las Vegas, in the end he decides to come On the bus with Neil, who has brought his CD ease with him. It includes Moby's Ploy, Groove Annada's Vertigo, Chet Baker With Strings, David Bowie's Hours...("I haven't listened to it, if that's any consolation"), Bach's Adagios, Leftfield's Rhythm And Stealth ("hasn't been out of there once"), Nightmlare On Wax's Carboot Soul ("which I always have On"), William Orbit's Pieces In A Modern Style, Chancy Hayden's The Art Of The Song, and an ambient CD whose name or maker he no longer knows. The bus slowly climbs towards the mountains and the desert. "I've never seen a cactus," Neil says. "I mean, maybe in Italy or somewhere. I've never been in a desert before." He sits in the back, reading Q magazine, wounding that he's getting a cold sore. Chris sits up front, watching Newcastle versus Arsenal on TV. After the game, Chris comes back. In the middle of the desert we drive past a row of ears stopped in the other direction. "Is that a traffic jam?" Chris wonders. "Or are they making another REM video?" Neil flicks through Jockey Slat magazine, and notices that their gossip column is called Mutterings -the very same name of Smash Hits' gossip column in the Eighties when he worked there. "I thought of that title," he harrumphed. "Mutterings came from me, actually." We stop for lunch just before two o'clock at the Harvey House restaurant in Barstow. (Chris suggests we go to the In'n'Out Burger across the road instead, but he is talked out of it.) Waiting for the food, Neil sings along with Steely Dan's "Do it again". They talk about the Q Awards - they have been asked to film an introduction for New Order, who have won an award. Neil talks about the year when Liam Gallagher said to him, "Hey, Neil, you're a diamond, you're a diamond." Chris picks up a bottle from the table. "I've never seen green abase before," he says. "It's a first for me." "Chris, we've all had it before," Neil says. "It's milder than the original," Merck points out.

"Well, why would we want that?" asks Chris. No one answers. Chris has ordered the half chicken with honey. "I know what's going to happen," he sighs. "I'm going to hate the chicken, go straight across the road and get an In'n'Out burger, do my usual..." "Why don't you just go now?" inquires Neil, quite reasonably. "I want to wait to be disappointed," Chris replies. They are due to have dinner with the KROQ DJ Richard Blade hack in Los Angeles, and they discuss which restaurant they should book. "Is the Ivy still hip'n'happening?" Neil asks. "Let's go to the Ivy." "Why don't we go to the one we always go to?" Chris suggests. They are advised that The Palm is the place to go to. "Let's go to The Palm," Merck says. "I want trendy," Neil says. "Yeah," Chris considers, "but trendy means really slow crap service in LA." "The Palm is classy," Merck says. "I like the sound of classy," Neil nods. "What we don't want," Chris says, "is a fun ambience, because what that translates as is hanging out in a crowded bar area." Neil's food arrives. He has ordered four side orders as his meal: bacon, sausage, tomato and scrambled eggs, and with impressive literalness the waitress simply brings him all four on separate side plates. "I like the logic," Chris says, approvingly. "It's been seen through." "I'm going to arrange them in a Japanese fashion," Neil announces, and lines up the four small plates in front of him as though they were the four hot plates of a cooker. Chris's chicken arrives. Disappointingly, it's not disappointing. "Bloody marvellous," he says, as though he'd never expected it to be anything else. Spandau Ballet's "Time" comes in. "Not Spandau?" splutters Chris. "How bizarre is that?" "Apparently they've written lines for Martin Kemp into East Endears," Merck alleges. "He's said 'to cut a long story short'." "He'll say 'it's my interaction'," Chris suggests. After lunch Neil falls asleep in the back of the bus. In the front everyone else watches Wayne 5 turned on TV.

"Very good, isn't it?" notes Chris when it finishes. "It's basically the same character as in Austin Powers." About ninety miles from Las Vegas he retires to a bunk for snap of his own. Shortly afterwards, Neil wakes up, puts on his Moby CD and reads Hitler 5 Pope. We pull into Las Vegas. It's the first time Neil has been here. "Remember," he says, "Chris's grandparents lived here for years." "I'm going to count how long it takes Chris to put one dollar in a slot machine," says Merck. As Neil points out, he may have misjudged Chris's character in this respect. "I don't think he's that slot-machinery," Neil says. "He's from the North west. He's too tight." They are staying at the Hard Rock Hotel; to get to the venue they simply have to go downstairs. The three elevators have "appropriate" quotes in each of them: "Love in an elevator"

(Aerosmith), "don't let the elevator bring you down" (Prince) and "and she's buying a stairway to heaven" (Led Zeppelin). The rooms are decorated with rock'n'roll memorabilia. Neil has a picture of jimy Hendrix huming a guitar in his room, and another of Janis Joplin being Janis Joplin. "I Don't know if I like that," he says. "I'm in the dead person's room." After sound-check they meet at Mortoni's Italian restaurant. "Isn't it exciting?" Chris coos. "Las Vegas - woo hoo hooo! Tonight is apart night." "I can't party tonight" says Neil. (There's a show tomorrow too. He doesn't want to mess up his voice.) "Of course you can, Malcolm," insists Chris.

Tonight is actually Halloween. "I find Halloween quite scary," Neil says. "It's to do with dealing with death. In the Catholic faith, it's All Souls Day tomorrow." "Oh, I don't know what to have," says Chris, studying the menu. "It's the day," Neil continues, "when people haunt you. We'll have trouble with Dusty tonight." Chris admires the Rat Pack photo on the wall from the set of the film Oceans 11. Neil repeats what Frank Sinatra said to two of them when they met: "We had a lot of fun on stage tonight." "I say it all the time," he says, "when people ask me how the show was for us." "Frank Sinatra had a lot of good quotes," Chris says. "The best one was 'I feel sorry for people who don't drink, because when they wake up it's the best they're going to feel all day."' Madonna's "The Power of Goodbye" wafts in the background. "This is..." - Neil considers his words - "...my least favourite song ever." He imitates the elongated, strained way in which Madonna murders the last syllable of the word goodbye. "This sounds like she's trying to sing like Joan Baez as well," he says. Over fine Italian food, the two of them plot a money-making scheme: to start up a deluxe train service between Los Angeles and Las Vegas, with gambling machines which activate 55 soon as you cross into Nevada. Chris reminds Neil that, if they don't do that, there's also the plot of land they've spotted in Beverly Hills and fantasise about developing. "Wouldn't it be great if we ended up in Vegas?" Chris says. "You know, I could be happy anywhere," says Neil. "We'd have to do three shows a day,"

Chris says. "Though my granddad got it down to doing five minutes a day." "So that's where you get it from," Neil says. "He couldn't understand why I would pursue architecture: 'why would you want to do that when you could be a musician?'...We went through all his photos. Las Vegas was just a vast desert with the odd hotel in the middle." A man comes up to the table. He is, one can't but help notice, dressed 55 a cow. Damson, who has been talking to him, introduces him: "His dad was Sean Consery's stunt double..." 'In the early Bond movies," the Mao-cow clarifies. Chris pauses. He doesn't seem to know quite how To reply. 'l like your udder," he eventually says. In the dressing room (today's Hard Rock posters. "We want to stay in the centre of town," says Chris, announcing this as a general rule." "We prefer a modem aesthetic," Neil adds, "and with windows that can open." Chris moves onto more pressing matters. "James," he asks, "why don't we get plain M&Ms? Why do we get peanut ones?" "I honestly don't have an answer for you," replies James. Chris leans back into the sofa. "Well," he says, "I feel very excited for some reason, which is not like me. I feel like hiring a limo and being very silly." He has heard rumours about a rave in the desert later tonight, and he wants to go. He also now decides that he may need to go to the bathroom during the show, and he has realised that the dressing room is far too far away to reach. "Right," he says. "I need a potty."

Heimprovises, emptying out a glass pitcher of orange juice so that he can bring the container down to the stage with him. (He never uses it.) Chris next declares that, as it is Halloween, the entire entourage should have painted Pet Shop Boys eyebrow for the evening. And so everyone's foreheads, even the Q journalist who arrives backstage after the show, are suitably blackened. "We all look like we're in Star Trek," Chris giggles, pitcher in hand, as he descends to the stage. This ia the smallest venue in which the Pet Shop Boys have played since they first became successful, and the atmosphere is raucous. Before "Discoteca" Neil tries to tell the audience about Chris's grandfather being on the stage here thirty years ago and about Chris being here now, but his microphone stops working, so he has to stop and say it all over again. "Well," grins Chris during the interval, "we really are living Sa A Vida loco." Chris has to have his eyebrows removed for the second half, but he announces that he is having them put straight back on afterwards. "Are we going out like that?" Neil asks, somewhat dubious. "Yes we are," Chris says. "It'll look great" After the second half of the concert, at the end of "Go West", breaking his usual routine, Neil speaks one final time. "Thank you very much," says, "You're wonderful. Have an outrageous night." People spill into the dressing room as they start to change. "Let's just shut the door," Chris suggests.

"Yet!" Neil snaps, in his imperious voice. "Let's shut the bloody door!" "Can we have some privacy?" Chris continues. "For once in our bloody lives," Neil says. "We're trapped in a goldfish bowl," Chris sighs. "It's like a media circus," Neil says. They leave quickly to catch a performance of the Cirque De Soleil, reputedly the most expensive show in the world: prime seats are being saved for them. "'It's Alright' went down fantastically tonight," Merck tells them in the limo. "Did it?" says Neil. "Oh, 'It's all right" it's fantastic," Chris says. "It's the highlight of the show, musically. When it Sums into New Order." They are whisked into their seats at the Cirque De Soleil and told they have missed the best bit, but they're in time for the final half hour: lots of incredible diving and leaping from great heights into a pool, parts of which keep changing back and form into a dry stage. It's impressive, but possibly a bit pointless. There's lots of hooky fake Easter folk music as accompaniment. "The one. thing I can't bear about Cirque Dc Soleil," says Neil on the way out, "is the music. It's always awful. I actually don't like the aesthetic of it, but it is brilliant." "It was very exciting when they flew off the swing way into the sky," Chris says. "Incredibly well timed and everything," Neil agrees.

"I must say, I don't find the comedy amusing," Chris says. "The attempt at comedy." Neil nods. "It's that Marcel Marcesu whimsical style." "It's a very impressive spectacle," Chris concludes. "It's all about scale." They walk back into the hotel foyer past two Elvis impersonators. Neil goes to bed, and Chris goes to the party being thrown downstairs in the hotel's night-club where people are variously dressed as aliens, televisions and Michael Jackson. He never finds out whether the desert rave even existed.

Monday, November 1

"You know," says Nell, on the bus in the morning, heading back to Los Angeles, one night in Las Vegas is long enough." Chris has decided to sleep in and fly back later. Neil ties to call Elton John, who is apparently annoyed that he couldn't find Neil at the Los Angeles hotel, but now Neil can't find Elton. He leaves a message with the housekeeper. "Tennant," he says. "T-E-N-N-A-N-T." A pause. "N-EA-L....Thank you...Goodbye." Neil's annoyed about the scab on his lip: "The reason I shave in the morning and not before the gig," he says, "is precisely because of things like this." The bus brakes suddenly. Neil's coffee goes all over Tom Stephan, their DJ and musician friend who flew into Las Vegas yesterday. "Wow," says Neil. "1 thought we were going to have a crash there." He looks out of the window. "It's the desert," he comments, now somewhat blaze about it. "They've got C5cti." He sees a sign. "It's 28 miles to gas. I wonder if that means lunch." He goes to the front and suggests to James that it should. 28 miles later, we pull into the Bun Boy restaurant. "The Original Bun Boy, Established 1926, Gateway To Death Valley" - in Baker; next to the world's tallest thermometer.

On the restaurant tables is an annoying game, rather like solo draughts, where you have to jump pegs over other pegs and leave only one peg left. To our frustration, none of us are very good at it. On his second try Neil leaves three pint, and checks the scorecard. "I'm 'about average intelligence'," he recites. "That's just great, isn't it?" His next two goes he only leaves two pins. "I'm 'of above average intelligence' - I can deal with that," he declares, and tucks into his fried zucchini. "Last night," he says, "during 'Opportunities' I was getting so excited I was going to spit on the audience. I was really feeling punky, and I thought, 'I'm going to gob on them'. But then I thought, 'oh my God, we'll get lawsuits or something'." he sighs. "I had a lot of saliva in my mouth," he explains. On the final leg of the journey he does his interview with Q magazine. As the bus pulls into the suburbs of Los Angeles he is explaining how Catatonia asked the Pet Shop Boys to do a remix, and how they were quite keen but they didn't particularly like "Karsoke Queen", the song which had been suggested. The bus goes directly to the Universal Amphitheatre. They played here in 1991.

"Over there," he points, "is where I met Ax Rose." He goes through the promotional schedule for the rest of the North American tour with Merck. It's unrelenting. "We're working too hard," Neil tells him. "Even I'm starting to think that. My voice is croaking, I'm warding off a cold, I'm warding off conjunctivitis..." Merck tries to persuade them to fit in an extra flight so they have time for an important breakfast radio show in Chicago. "Flying is slot of pressure for me," Neil points out. "I can do it, but it's a lot of pressure." Neil suggests that Chris does this interview alone. He sits at a piano and starts fingering the chords to "Footsteps", which they are thinking of adding to the encores. "The chords are unbelievably complicated," he complains. He deflects responsibility. "Chris wrote them," he says, but as he plays it through he says, "oh yes, I wrote that bit - that's the me bit I understand that..." He looks through some faxes. The Japanese record company have suggested that the fourth single from Nightlife be "Vampires" or "In Denial", which fascinates him. He does hit yoga. Just before 8pm Chris arrives, and says that he had a sensational lunch in Las Vegas's version of Paris, just next to their Eiffel Tower. "Chicken and pomp Irises," he says. "We went to Bun Boy," says Neil. "I had the waistline special - chicken with cottage cheese and fruit - Next to the world's largest thermometer." Richard Blade, the local DJ celebrity and their Dinner companion tomorrow, pops in to say hello. "Do you need to be smart to go to The Ivy?" Neil asks. "No, you don't," he says, bubbling with enthusiasm. "You guys are stars!" They confer about the record signing they're doing before dinner tomorrow, at Threw Records on Sunset Boulevard.

Once they have resolved to wear the wigs, Chris says they need good lighting, and their lighting designer Marc Brickman - who is only around because he lives here - is asked to do it. "It'll make its wow kind of thing," Neil says. "It'll be like when I saw Batman and Robin in Blackpool with the Batmobile," Chris says. His eyes suddenly slight up. "We've got the Hummer stretch! I knew there was something to look forward to." They are to arrive at the record signing in a Hummer, a rectangular tank-like army car which has been extended into a limousine. Chris even suggests for a moment that they simply stay in the Hummer and sign records through the window. "That really would be taking the piss," Neil says. During the interval Merck comes into the dressing room. He has noticed that in "Can You Forgive Her?", when Neil sings "...get yourself a real man instead", he forcefully grabs his culottes in the crotch area with his hand. "Where did that come from?" Merck asks. "I've been doing it for about four nights," Neil says. In the second half, during "Opportunities", Neil is thrown an S-shirt. He mops his brow with it and throws it back into the crowd. A pair of knickers appears at one point as well. When he introduces everyone onstage before "Go west" he tries to get Chris to say "hello". He puts the microphone in front of Chris three times, and each time Chris pushes it away. The crowd goes crazy. Finally he relents, and unleashes his second on-stage utterance of the tour. "Hello," he says. (Hit first - also "hello" - was in Atlanta.) "We've got to go and grin'n'grip,"

advises Merck afterwards. "Grin'n'grip," repeats Chris. "I like it." "AxI Rose isn't here," Neil sighs. "It's not the same." At the grip'n'grin they meet various people including Coronation Street's Natalie Horrocks, who is in town doing a shoot for Hello magazine. Neil meets a pregnant woman who is having a girl and tells him she is going to call it Chris neil. On the way out they spot the two looks alike from the other night, and stop the bus to greet them. Back on the bus Neil confesses how annoyed he is at not buying one of the peg games at the Bun Boy restaurant. When I was in the Legion of Mary at school," he begins, to a certain amount of sniggering, "you used to do charitable work and you used to go to a centre for handicapped kids in Gosforth, and this kid was mentally retarded and he had webbed hands, and he used to beat me at draughts and chess...l was supposed to be helping him."

Tuesday, November 2

. Neil has agreed to appear on the popular MTV programme called Loveliness in which people phone in with their love and sexual problems and are given advice by the three hosts and a guest celebrity. (Chris hat declined to take part.) "Thanks for doing the show," one of the TV executives tells him in his dressing room. "We're so thrilled that you're doing it." "Yes, I can't believe I'm doing it," Neil replies. The first question, before Neil is introduced, is from a bloke wondering whether he should have a threesome with hit girlfriend and her cousin. Soon Neil is pondering of a 19-year-old from Baltimore who is worried that's all, be bat done have killed his sex drive. Be favourite lots of nitrous, apparently. "What is nitrous?" Neil asks. "Laughing gas," they tell him. "Oh," be says. "I don't think we do that in England." The next caller is a 20-year-old girl who says she was raped when a virgin and contracted herpes. Adam, one of the hosts, the one who is supposed to add the comic colour, announces that they will get back to the rape and herpes after showing a little of the new Pet Shop Boys videos. He says this with such spectacular glee and poor taste that everyone watching backstage in the green room gasps. Neil tries to raise sensible points - "do you think it's possible for people to divorce their emotional relationship from their sex life?" he asks at one point - but the presenters seem less interested in intelligent debate than tasteless jokes (the comedian) and patronising know-all analysis (the medically-trained supposedly sensible presenter, Doctor Drew).

When Neil mentions during one answer that he is gay they simply seem perplexed by this information. Soon Afterwards he is drawn into an entirely baffling conversation about hot dogs on sticks. "Well," says Neil, afterwards, still not quite sure what be has been through, "it was a unique experience for me. It made me very sad, all these people with their problems." The executive bounces in to thank him. "I'll let you know when it airs," she enthuses. "And I'll make sure I don't watch it," Neil replies, laughing. Next, in the dressing room, Neil does an interview for a VH 1 history of the pop video (one version of which will subsequently be shown in December 1999 on Channel 4 in Britain). Be reminisces about seeing The Supremes on Top Of The Pops ("you couldn't quite believe they were real, which is something I've always loved in pop music - like they were from another planet"), and of David Bowie performing "Starman" in 1972 ("be put his arm around Mick Ronson and it was vaguely homoerotic"). He discusses some favourite Pet Shop Boys videos like "Can You Forgive Her?" ("Actually it's a song about a man admitting that he's gay"), "Co West" ("it bad a chord change that was very popular in baroque music") and "Being Boring" ('lust kids getting ready for a party...MTV were shocked by the naked man at the start"). As he talks, they have sound problems -

eventually they realise that the background noise is being caused by ice melting in a bucket on the dressing room table. "I want something to eat," Neil announces. "I want a hot dog." The limo driver says that he's not allowed to atop for a hot dog - he bat only been booked to take us back to the hotel. Eventually he's persuaded to drop us at The Cajun Bistro on Sunset Boulevard. "Sometimes it's nice to do something a bit out there," Neil reflects, of today's strangeness. "Something you wouldn't normally do. Extend your repertoire.! Now know I don't want to be an agony aunt." Be orders some lunch, and talks about hit first ever visit to America when he worked for Smash Hits. "It was to see Genesis in Philadelphia. And I went walking the next manning, and this black guy stopped me, and I jumped about three feet in the air. He was, 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted some spare change'. I was like the woman in Hoirapray when she goes to the ghetto.... Phil Collins, I couldn't think of anything to ask him after twenty minutes. I wasn't very experienced.! Had no interest in his music. Mike Rutherford - a very nice man; if he walked in now I'd say hello to him -drove me to New York in his car because the tour bus had broken down. He stopped at the toll at the Midtown tunnel and 'Planet Rock' was playing in the ear next to us - it was 1982 - and! Thought, 'lam here'." He mentions that once, at a Prince connect Phil Collins came up to him and asked him for his autograph for his son."! thought that was sweet' Neil says. "A lot of People's egos wouldn't allow them to do that."

The Q photographer asks Neil whether he doesn't Want to interview people any more. "I can't be bothered to," Neil says. "I used to hate writing. I'd take ages to do anything. I'd sit in the end room - Room 36, because it was the phone extension - and it took me ages. It still does. I did the Spectator diary and it took me three days." He discusses hit other contributions, "I tried to bring sex into Smash Hits," he says, "because it was resolutely non-sexual. I used to do things like ask Paul Weller if he was gay. He quite liked it, but everyone was quite shocked. I used to be known as the person who asked Paul Weller if he was gay." "I think you've superseded that now," the photographer says. More memories: "I remember with Culture Club and Haysi Fantasee it was 'which dreadlocks band do we go for?' and we all chose Haysi Fantasee. They had a great The Of The Pops performance...one of those that was to shocking they just played it anyway." His thought Tums back towards Loveliness. "Do you think I shouldn't have done it?" he wonders. "I actually really hated them." Outside the hotel, a fan comes up to Neil. He explains that he has a bag of Pet Shop Boys records, which he is planning to bring to the record signing. Neil pauses, waiting, but he doesn't ask, so Neil does. "Wouldn't it be better if I signed them now?" Neil suggests. Neil and Chris meet for make-up in Neil's bungalow just before 6.3Opm.

"Well, how was it?" Chris asks Neil. "I heard it was a bit disturbing. Do you feel like you prostituted yourself or do you feel like you've done the world some good?" "A bit of both," Neil replies. Chris studies the prints he's just got back taken with his new Lomo camera. He's quite thrilled with them. "The white border," he says proudly, "is essential." Chris has just done his Q interview, which went fine, though he was a bit perplexed by the way the journalist said "how curious" at the end and then didn't say anything else. "Neil," asks Chris, "do you think Bilingual was cold?" "No," says Neil. "I told him very firmly that it wasn't cold. That it was warm. "Because I couldn't think of the answer to that one,' Chris says. "I said I was trying to listen to it in my head and I couldn't imagine it." They put on the wigs, giggling about the fuss they are making just for one record signing. "We've got Pink Floyd's lighting designer," Chris laughs. "The world's first in-store lit by Pink Floyd's Lighting designer," Neil says. "They're exploiting the boundaries of what can be spent once again." They go through the rules. They'll try to sign everything, but if the queue is too long they'll just sign one item per pension. "Alto," says Chris, "we're not allowing kissing either," "No flaming kissing," Neil agrees. They get into the Humber and drive the few hundred yards down Sunset Boulevard towards the store. As they go, they imagine what people will be thinking as they pull up in such an audacious vehicle. "I'm surprised they've come in this," says Chris. "It's not very them, is it?" "I'd have thought they'd come in one of those new Beetles," says Neil. "This," says Chris, "is more Puff Daddy." Chris realises that he will have to get out of the limo first. He releases. "I can't go Out first," he insists. "It's reverse order." "You go on stage first," Neil points Out, with compelling logic, but Chris is adamant, and so Neil clambers over him and steps out in front of the crowd. Chris follows. A man who works for the store rushes up and explains how much he likes the Pet Shop Boys. "It's you and Sondheim," he gushes.

"Us and Sondheim," repeats Neil, quite liking the sound of this, but then he feels obliged to point Out, "Chris isn't a big Sondheim fan." "He's rubbish," Chris says. The signing starts. "Can you write 'Amanda, with love...'," one girl asks. "'With love'?" queries Neil. "That's a little presumptuous." When a fan brings Outs copy of "Absolutely Fabulous", Neil holds it up to show the lingering Q journalist, who has been somewhat dismissive of its place in the Pet Shop Boys' canon. "Look!" says Neil. "Look!" like Tums to the fan. "Do you like this record?" "Yes," says the fan, a little nervously. "See?" says Neil. "Do you not like it?" Chris asks the man from Q. "I would not have spoken to you if I'd known. One of our finest offerings..." "I'm not responding to irony," the joumal it retorts, pauses, then adds, tartly, "just the one, is it?" "Yes," Neil concedes, "to be fair." The next fan hats question: "What job would you never do in the world however much they paid you?" Neil thinks. "I wouldn't want to be a sewer attendant," he says. "I wouldn't like to be a coal minor particularly," says Chris. The fan tells them that when she asked Sean Lennon the same question he said, "be Yoko Ono's assistant". Another kind fan hands them bottles of Dom Perignon champagne.

"Now we're talking," Chris says. "Now we're talking," Neil agrees. "We're only accepting expensive gifts from now on," Chris says. As the fans queue, Richard Blade grabs their cameras and photographs them as they get their records signed. One fan seems a little unwilling for this to happen. Chris advises her to give in. "You've got to have your picture taken," he explains. "It's like meeting Santa Claus." "I love the hair," Neil is told. "It's all our own," Neil replies. "Is it really?" Chris says provocatively. "No," he says. "Can you take off your sunglasses?" Neil is asked. "No, it's part of my look," he says. "When you've got a look, you've got a look, you know." They are brought a laser disc of their second video collection to sign. "It's pure genius," Chris reflects, "calling it Promotion." "If you do say so yourself," mutters Neil. Chris takes the mickey out of Neil for singing Along with "Radiophone", playing in the background. "Chris, I happen to like our records," Neil retorts. A man asks Neil, "Can you tell me how you write The melodies in the songs?" Neil doesn't immediately reply and so Dainton says to Neil, "he wants to know how you write the melodies in the songs." "Dainton," says Chris, deadpan, "can you translate, please?" "They just come," Neil says. "They come quickly." "When you least expect it,"

Chris says. "That's true," Neil points Out. "They just inspirationalise," summarises Dainton. They have signed around 500 copies of Nightlife, And plenty of other bits and pieces, when the queue finally dissipates and they climb back into the humour. "It'd be great," Neil comments, "to invade a country in this." A convertible full of fans, loudly playing "Happiness Is an Option" follows them. "It's like Argentina!" says Chris. Dinner with Richard Blade is at The Palm, after which talk of going clubbing evaporates. Bed beckons.

Wedneiday, November 3.

In the morning, they fly to Oakland, in North California, from where they will cruse into San Francisco. "Well," says Neil, off the plane, "welcome to the Hay Area. You know what I'm going to have right now - a hot dog." And he does. At the baggage claim area, disaster looms. Chris's bags are nowhere to be seen. "Oh well," he says, with a nonchalance which poorly disguises his fury, "that's them lost then." For about twenty minutes he refuses to leave the terminal until they are found. He simply won't budge. He even considers flying back to Los Angeles to find them. Neil waits in the limo. In the end Chris is persuaded that Dainton will stay, but he is fuming. In the car he gets annoyed that his photo is taken. "Stop distracting me from being angry," he says. He is silent for a while, then, as we cross the bridge into San Francisco, he says: "My bags can't disappear forever. I can't go 00.1 won't look how I want. It's that important." "You'll have to do some serious shopping," Neil suggests, but Chris is not in the mood for practical suggestions. "No," he says, firmly. He gets out his Lomo camera and points it Out of the window. James speaks to Dainton on the phone. Apparently the bags have been traced. They're still in Los Angeles. "Thank God for that," Chris says. "Presumably they haven't apologised," Neil notes.

They check it, their hotel then head straight out to a radio interview at a Station called, in the modem way, Alice, "Why is it called Alice?" Chris asks the people who work there. None of them seem to know. "How many times can you call a station Mix or Power?" a bloke finally responds. "Why so long?" the interviewer asks, about the gap between their American tours. "Is it because of all the theatrics?" "Theatrics?" laughs Chris. "Oh, there's a lot of theatrics go on behind the scenes." "What do you think" they are asked, "the audience takes away from the concert?" "Merchandise," answers Chris. They address the rumour that they will not be attending their San Francisco record signing. "Neil is definitely Turing up," says Chris. "Chris is probably Turing up," says Neil. "And there might be wigs." Next door they are interviewed by a competition winner. "I'm going to probe your psyche," she promises. "Ob God," says Chris, "you're not going to get much out of my psyche." "Do you have one?" Neil inquires. "I don't have one," Chris confirms. "I think I need my aura cleansed first." They are asked which CD they would have on a desert island. "Mine," replies Chris, "would probably be a CD on how to build a raft from first principles." From there, they head straight to the Warfield Theatre. Inside the dressing room S familiar scene plays out... "Chris," says Neil,