that’s not my name. or my beard. you blind bastards. tour journals vol. 8.

In his latest sardonic tour journal, Andrew leaves his comfort zone of rock music behind and jumps head first into the world of hip hop touring. Will this mark the beginning of a career path littered with bling, guns and big booty hoes? More like a confusing quest for invisible cronuts whilst carrying a giant sized latex baby head around the UK in a succession of Hyundai i800 people carriers. Or something. Oh, and being mistaken on a nightly basis for a superstar DJ.