Summary

Nothing could be cooler than a rock-band on tour. Hordes of screaming fans who want to give up their virginity for an autograph, free drugs in all sizes, colors and kicks, luxury hotels that loose a star after our rock gods have passed through it like a tornado and sold out theaters and stadiums. The members of The Experimental Tropic Blues Band would give up one of their balls to be able to experience that one day. Everything’s better than these endless trips on the road in a tour bus that should have fallen apart decades ago, cabinets filled with aspirin to battle cheap beer hangovers, dark and smelly theaters with clogged toilets and a few lost spectators, getting paid in candy bars and not one horny groupie in sight. It certainly can’t get any worse than that? Just wait and see!