2 Outta 5 Ain’t Bad

Last Thursday morning I hopped in my car after grabbing a latte and headed towards Wattens.  A song came on FM4 that caught my attention and, for the first time in 2009, I told myself I was going to go buy that CD that night.  Those of us that see tons of shows every year absorb lots of music though it is both rare and lucky when something really gets your attention.  This was the case with the song ‘Mornings’ by a band called Portugal. The Man.  I arrived at my office with the song in my head and not more than 10 minutes later saw a FB update from a friend regarding a concert that very night.  Low and behold…Portugal The Man was playing Club Weekender the same night.  Synchronicity is one way to see it…dumb luck another.  An hour later I had a press pass and looked forward to the show all day.

The band surprised me with thier awesomeness.  Weepy, wonderful Eddie Hazel inspired guitar licks spun around catchy melodies and cosmic noise makes for an eclectic and addictive sound.  I have been listening to thier album The Satanic Satanist (silly name) all weekend and haven’t tired of it.  The last time I got this excited about a new album from a new band was, I think, when I  heard Black Mountain.  I showed up a little late for the set due to a date with Bruno at the Metropol (meh…) but was sucked immeadiately in.  Here are a couple of my favorite shots of this excellent band, but click here to see the whole set.

Portugal. The Man @ Weekender

Portugal. The Man - Innsbruck, Austria

It was a total surprise and I feel compelled to share.  Here is the song that I heard while driving that made me stop and listen (click here if you dont see the player). 

Friday was the 5 Year anniversary of my beloved pmk so it was a no-brainer that I would grab a camera and head to the bogen.  A stage outside from 8 until 11 was a nice change of pace and the rain held off long enough to let the party get going.  I shot 3 bands that night, the last of which was my favorite…a group from Vienna called Bulbul.  The guitar player was impossibly sexy so please forgive the bajillion photos of him in this set.  Here are a few of my favorites from the whole evening…

5 Jahre PMK

Beana & Stefan Lachinger & their perspectives on PMK

Sexjams - pmkBulbul - pmk

 Just before 1am the rain got heavier and my patience for slow beer lines and damp crowds waned and I headed home to lose my mind in the endless Six Feet Under marathon that has occupied my free moments in the last  2 weeks.  It was a great night all in all…made me proud to have been a part of the last 2 years at pmk, for sure.

Chris & Ulli Rock - Happy Birthday pmk!

Saturday and Sunday were a mix of snow showers, rain, sun, fog, winter, fall and summer so laying low and doing very little took almost no effort.  I manged to get my apartment clean (kind of) and to have some QT over chocolate cake (thanks Uschi!), Bananarama (thanks Michi!), red coconut curry (thanks Albi & Alex!), a walk in the park (thanks Beate!) and some delicious noodles and mushrooms (thanks Becky & Luca!)…lucky Bean, eh?  Yeah, I thought so too.  here’s a couple more snapshots from the weekend’s fun with the Business Edition…

thefutureisstupid

snowinsummer

window in a rainsoaked castle

Just because I genuinely care for you (you didn’t doubt that did you?) I’m going to kick down one more track from my new favorite band Portugal. The Man.  This one is called The Woods and had me dancing in my living room until the wee hours…(don’t see the player?  click here)

Endless Horizons: Part III – South Gobi, Mongolia

Ok.  I’ve put this off long enough.  It’s time to share some thoughts about my days in Mongolia before the memories fade and those days dissolve into the tapestry of stories and experience that lies half in the world we are all living in and half in my imagination (a world I rarely leave).

Gift for Buddah

I had no expectations for this leg of the journey except for distance.  I wanted to feel far, far away.  I wanted to be so far away, in fact, that from that distance I could see my own trajectory into the future…I wanted to see where my path is leading, my personal horizon and glean a clue about what’s next for Beana.  Mongolia can definitely deliver on ‘the middle of nowhere’ vibe that I am describing.  Tucked between Russia, China and Kazakhstan I was as remote as I have ever been.  It was perfect.  In a land with endless horizon I got a glimpse of my own.

Arriving by train gave me some time to prepare but, if I’m honest, it would be hard for anybody to be prepared for Ulaanbaatar.  A huge pothole trimmed with ger camp suburbs and a less-than-graceful attempt at civil engineering, you can almost feel the city growing as you stand in it.  The traffic is perpetually at ‘Midtown Manhattan rush hour’ levels with less grid and more chaos.  I had 3 nights in UB all together and, though I saw many parts of the city, I didn’t have time to do the solo wandering that always connects me to my destination.  The Soviet influence is clear and that stark, boxy aesthetic creates an odd texture when paired with the organic looking gers scattered throughout the city.

Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia

None of the ’sights’ in UB feel even remotely touristy.  Everything is so chill and relaxed that you can stumble into an amazing Temple Museum and not even realize it.  In China every facade was restored to a Disney-like-perfection where it was sometimes hard to imagine the monument or place being lived in.  In Mongolia it was far different.  Lived in is how the whole country felt…you can feel the life happening there, the pulse.  An absolute favorite day for me in UB was visiting the Ghandan Khiid Monastery.  This place is a living, breathing Buddhist temple where tourists are allowed entry to every single building there.  Monks out number visitors significantly so this is not a bad arrangement.  It was absolutely transcendental…one of the most beautiful and amazing things I have ever seen.  Drums and chanting and bells and prayer wheels with the smell of milktea hanging in the air, it was like time traveling.  Photos weren’t welcome here but I was allowed to make a couple…

Young Monks - Ghaandin Khiid Monastery

Aside from some sightseeing in UB, my only agenda was to score some boots that would let me ride like the wind when it came time for some horse trekking.  I got an A+ on this assignment and wait for Fall now so I can wear them every day.  A domestic flight carried me from Ulaanbaatar south to a ‘city’ called Dalanzgdad, or DZ.  I remember thinking that the runway at Ghengis Khaan Airport is the only stretch of pavement anywhere in UB without potholes.  Flying over the Gobi was as surreal as training through it but stepping outside the airport and seeing a battalion of 4 wheel drive vehicles brought me back to reality right quick.  Tuya and Nassa were my guides there, a young married couple, and it was clear I was in the right hands when the first words out of Tuya’s mouth after ‘welcome’ were, “welcome to south gobi, one of the most beautiful places in the world.  i love my country.’  After a short stop for gas we drove out into the steppe.  The sensation of leaving pavement and driving through wide open spaces is hard to describe.  Total freedom.  Unplugged.

Road Less Traveled - South Gobi

Thinking about 21st century nomads is something different than spending time with them.  Where there is water, there is life so the movement and routine of the herds people is far from random.  There is logic to the movement and safety in the routine and after water, shelter, community and food are the only other necessities.  And vodka, I suppose.  I can tell you that all the static electricity that is our Western social construct fades away when you see how life on Earth – one of the harshest places on Earth – is lived day to day.  Its humbling to see their strength and generosity and humor and it reinforces a notion that I think often – less is more.  Ankle bone horse racing, singing to one another, watching baby animals clumsily get acquainted with the world and taking joy in tending the herd and making the dairy is a rich and beautiful existence.  Many younger generations are tempted to leave these old ways and make a modern life in the city which is very sad to see…an entire culture going extinct.  What gives me hope is that even those trying for a new life in UB bring their children to their parents and aunts and uncles in the ‘countryside’ so most children there learn the ways of their families and honor their roots, if only for summers.

21st Centruy Nomads

Help for the Summer

I could write a book about how South Gobi impacted me but I am going to try to focus here.  There were 3 major sites that I visited:  Khongoryn Els or ‘the singing dunes,’ Yolyn Alm or ‘Eagle Gorge,’ and Banyzang or ‘the Flaming Cliffs.’  The dunes spoke to me on a personal level and therefore that is the story I will share now but I believe that it was seeing all three of them, the diversity of the Gobi, that made the experience so fantastic.  A little like in Las Vegas, the scale of everything in Gobi is a bit disorienting.  Things appear to be nearby that are actually 50km away so it is no surprise that I underestimated my ability to quickly summit the highest point for sunset.  The sand is so soft so for every 2 steps you take forward you slide back 3.  Imagine climbing a tidal wave and you can begin to fathom this experience.  With each handful of sand you push down in your effort to go up, you can feel – literally tons! – of sand moving beneath you.  As the sand slides over itself it makes a low, groaning and sweeping sound that is the song referred to when talking about the ’singing dunes.’  It’s impossible not to look down as you claw your way up so in addition to being physically grueling, it is also vertigo-inducing.  Not everybody could make it even halfway up and, with about 18 kilos of camera on my back, I was determined not to be among that group.  After 1 1/2 hour of OCD, Rainman-like counting….25 steps up, breath for 50…25 steps up, breath for 50…I made it to the top of the Gobi. 

Top of the Gobi

It was just Tuya, Nassa and I and they left me after an hour or so to have the sunset to myself.  I had the sublime pleasure of standing alone on a windless night, the faint sound of the dunes and some baby camels calling for mama in my ears, watching a pink and orange fireball light the desert up before sinking below the horizon and washing everything in lilac.  I can think of a handful of moments in my life when I have been in *exactly* the right place at the right time and this was one of them.  The same way the sun lit up the steppes and mountains and dunes, it lit me up to.  Life-altering and life-affirming travel, indeed.  The light that shone on me that night remains glowing and the clarity and vision that it revealed are making wheels turn as we speak.  The middle of nowhere was the center of me.

Singing Dunes

Khongryn Els

It is poetic and perfectly perfect that after this sublime moment alone with God that I hopped on a sled and let my adrenalin pump as I sped down the way I climbed up.  Its like enlightenment and rock and roll all at the same time…the kind of life I like living.   4 more days of traversing the desert allowed me to experience life in a ger, sample the vast and interesting assortment of dairy products made by the herds people, gallop across dunes on a camel named Huchbar, slide across a Gobi glacier and score a fossilized dinosaur egg at the Flaming Cliffs.  I was sad to say goodbye to Tuya and Nassa and their epic and awesome land but I feel like a piece of it came home with me.

Camel Herder & Baby Duck

Click here for a slideshow of my days in South Gobi.

The Music of Movement: Part 1 – Beijing & Mutianyu

In bed, listening to tunes and curled around my laptop like its a lover, I couldn’t fall asleep.  I wore myself out yesterday and should have been swimming in stars and the mist that was my dreams of yesterday, today and tomorrow but I was awake.  Wide awake. I feel like if I were sitting upright that  I would be on the edge of my seat…perched as though something certain is about to happen.  I’m pretty certain that the only thing I should expect is uncertainty, though, so I’m curious about what gives.  The endorphins from China and Mongolia did not dissipate upon my arrival home but, instead, channeled themselves right into the next adventure and I think it is this excitement that I am anticipating.  That said, I think it’s time to reflect on my past trip before I depart on the next one…

The whole holiday was a movement of music.  The rhythm and cadence of my movements was well choreographed and the itinerary was well-designed to carry me through.  A brief stop in Cairo could be equivalent to that moment before the concert when the lights go out and the audience wonders whats about to happen.  It was a clear departure from my current reality and an indicator that, like in the theater, it was time to suspend my disbelief and just let go.  A comedy of errors, between 2 broken buses, a ridiculous pig flu quarantine and over-friendly Air Egypt flight attendants, I was just happy to find my gate and some tea.  Prayers and chanting from a mosque echoed out into the terminal where I was sitting and they must have been heard because Allah carried us safely to Peking.

im out

5 days and nights alone in Beijing to feel myself away, shake off work and have some real quality time with the city was a perfect beginning.  I slipped slowly and sublimely into a groove that felt oddly like Orchard Street.  Same smells as the funny markets near my house, I felt closer to ‘home’ than I have in a while.  The melody began to take shape as I wandered all of Beijing – baseline of foot steps, the creaky rattle of the rickshaw, the echos and bells of the subway, the deafening squeak of the buses breaks, the spinning prayer wheels at the Llama Temple and the bi-lingual and ineffective conversation with the taxi drivers.

Rickshaw Driver - Beijing, China

Around the time that I was in sync with myself it was time to meet my guide and travel companion and begin a more structured exploration of the city.  At this point we got more ’serious’ about making sure that the history – the vast and long history – of the city was explored.  Between my days alone and with Tom, I saw : Tiananmen Square, Summer Palace, Forbidden City,  Temple of Heaven, Drum & Bell Towers, Panjiayuan Market, Silk Street, Longtan Park, Beihai Lake, the 798 Art District, the Birds Nest & Watercube, Monument to the Peoples Heros, Llama Temple, Dongyue Temple, Qianhai Lake, Donganmen Dajie and the night market, Ritan Park, a Peking Opera, some Kung Fu and countles hutongs throughout the city. To go through all of this would be a comprehensive travel guide and that is not on the agenda but feel free to ask me if you have any particular questions about these places or Beijing in general.

Summer Palace - Beijing, China

Hutong - Beijing, China

Restoration - Llama Temple - Beijing, China

Zhaoheng Gate - Temple of Heaven Park - Beijing, China

What I can say is that I was both saddened and inspired by what I saw.  The city is in flux, recovering from the INSANE growth spurt that was the Olympic games.  Tearing  down and building up, the air is always thick with brick dust and something that feels like a cross between hope and capitalism.  The locals that I connected with offered great insight on how that growth has dramatically changed their lives for the better – mainly in the form of mass transit, renovated monuments and public service announcements about enjoying themselves – and it was a unique perspective.  I still can’t put words to it but I also sensed a profound contradiction there.  Walls protecting more walls protecting courtyards with nothing in them maintained a symmetrical sense of power and control and ‘beauty’ but in a totally superficial way.  Meditation and self control focus on inner strength and substance yet there appears to be some ‘muscle’ or layer missing that connects this ’supreme’ facade with this inner power.  I got the sense that things were either all or nothing and can’t really explain it better than that.  What I can say is that the Emperor was surely a very lonely guy and China is a country in the midst of a fast and all-consuming transition.

Duan Gate - Forbidden City - Beijing, China

Offerings - Dongyue Temple - Beijing, China

Majong

Private Home - Hutong

A day before departing we headed about 2 hours north of the city to Mutianyu to see the Great Wall.  A ride up in the cable car that carried Slick Willy some years ago was funny and, from what I was told, an honor.  The throngs of tourists make this a difficult experience to absorb but that was true with a lot of what I visited in China.  Regardless, its a sight to behold.

Mutianyu - Great Wall of China

Mutianyu - Great Wall of China

"Be Loyal to Chairman Mao"

This search for meaning and understanding stayed with me the entire time I traveled in China and I look forward to seeing more of the country and discovering more.  Some high points for me in the city were the 798 Art District, Tiananmen Square, Ritan Park at 8am, buying electronics, eating any variety of fascinating (and sometimes tongue curling) street food, watching karaoke in Longtan Park, $8 full body massages (i think i had 4), a glimpse inside a private courtyard and, naturally, some quality time with the Great Wall.

798 Art District - Beijing, China

Peking Opera

Watch out for the stinky tofu - street food - Beijing, China

Ritan Park - Early Morning

Rainy Day - Summer Palace

You can get a better sense of what I saw by taking a pass through the images from Cairo, Beijing and Mutianyu right here.  For those of you particularly interested in Beijing’s art scene, click here for a focused album on the 798 District.  By the end of 9 days I had a handle on the town and was ready to shift gears and depart, across the Gobi to Mongolia.  Stay tuned for a recap about how the music changed on the leg from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar on the Trans-Siberian Railroad.  Paul Simon was right, ‘everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance.  everybody thinks its cool.’

Special Plums - yum!!

The Sun in Your Shine

Waking up to, “What time is it?…where’s my phone?  Oh wait…where’s my bag?…holy shit, where’s my car?” can be an indicator of either something dreadful or, if you’re lucky, a really fun night.  This was my wake up call this morning and I am happy to report that it is a result of the latter.  The bag was in the car (which was where I left it) and the only things still missing are my sunglasses and, perhaps, any lingering notion that I’m a smooth operator.

Spring fever has hit the Tirol and with daffodils blooming, snow melting and the air thick with pollen and  anticipation, it seemed a perfect weekend to relax and roll with the ‘plan being no plan’ kind of attitude.  Everytime I let go of the reigns like this I tell myself afterwards that I should do it more often and maybe, just maybe, I will.  Friday night I left work with enough time to soak in a little sunshine before rolling up the hill to Büchenhausen to make pictures.  Sometimes when the plan is no plan, however, things fall through the cracks.  I made no photos but rather headed for a burger before Babylon and, finally, to pmk for some music.  The post-burger Babylon sessions were the high point of the evening and at some point in the not-so-far-future, I will tell you why.  But not today.

I managed to catch 2 of the 3 bands playing at pmk eventhough I didn’t get there until midnight.  The first, Jasmina Machina, was mellow and a little too sedated but they ended up being my favorite of the evening.  You can see the whole album here, if you’d like.

Sometime around 1, I think, Dufus took the stage.  They have a pretty regular crowd in IBK so there was anticipation that they would bring it.  They didn’t.  There is no denying thier talent but they were a little too fringe for me to get behind.  A friend likend them to Scientologists or some kind of freaky cult-like religion and I totally see it.  There are many bands that can take the spaces between songs to cosmic, cool places but these guys were not among them.  I disappeared sometime before 3 and they were still making noise…heres the whole album if you’re inclined. 

Sleeping late on Saturday was close to perfection and I whiled away the afternoon drinking coffee and fiddleing around my flat.  The sun was still bright and high in the sky when I took the inagural bike ride up the hill to, again, try to shoot the jukes and this time I had success.  I find it a bit funny that I can capture a moment with total ease but that I have a great amount of difficulty in making a moment to capture.  Bending light, controlling reflections and waiting for the right moment was challenging and reaffirms the fact that I need to work more on developing my fine art pursuits.  Mark my words, this summer I will make my Stockholm Syndrome shoot happen.  The jukebox images and everything I shot after them will find its way up here eventually so stay tuned.  A slow motion bike ride through the city produced some quality time with friends before landing me squarely (and early) back home.

Yesterday is still kind of with me.  You know how that happens sometimes?  Be it a hangover or something you lost or something you found, sometimes what was then still is now.  We kicked off the day with a wonderful brunch of fresh baked bread, pancakes, cheese, tomatos, meat, musli, fruit, yogurt and coffee….yummmmm….before I headed to pmk for the markt.  A few walls of the club were dressed in my images and I remembered how I forgot to remember that it gives me great joy to see people looking at my work.  I know people look at my photos….like YOU….right now…but in the ‘real world’ where art hangs on walls it’s another story.  Lots of creative people combined to sell what they had made and just about everybody who came stayed for a beer or three.  If I’m honest, I’m not sure how many photos I sold but I think it was in the neighborhood of 10 or so.  Totally satisfying but what was more satisfying was spending the day with so many awesome peeps…really. 

Yesterday was, by all accounts, officially the kick off to Spring.  If our lives were an Alfred Hitchcock film some eerie forshadowing would predict a totally kick-ass spring lurking just around the corner.  Oh wait…it’s not around the corner.  It’s right here, right now.  Sweet.

Lonely, Bluesy Freedom

Preparing to head to the office on what I know will be a challenging and stressful day, I am sipping my coffee and pouring my thoughts out onto this digital paper to try and clear my head and – for the first day in weeks – not feel overwhelmed about the task at hand.  It’s a new state of being for me to dream about work at night and, though its totally uncomfortable, I will trust [starting again from now!] that its temporary.

  Dont see the player?  Click here to dust YOUR broom.

Sunday I walked along the railroad tracks for hours.  I went from one said of the city to the other, width wise, feeling that lonely, bluesy freedom that seems synonymous with railway travel.  Scrapper Blackwell and Big Bill Broonzy in my ears and thoughts about where I’m headed on my mind.

Lonely Road

i went down

dont fence me in

There was more to see and if you’re inclined, you can click here to see it.

Aside from the wandering was also an austellung at pmk to celebrate International Womans Day.  Click here to see it all.

tattoo und tabu

Alright…enough of this dillydallying.  Its time to dust my broom.

Show for the Road

i stink like smoke.

my trigger finger hurts.

it’s almost 4am and im still not packed.

the last few days were a total whirlwind and in 4 hours ill head to the airport to head to frankfurt and then new jersey.  i actually got a paying/publishing picture gig though so i decided to throw caution to the wind and go rock modeselektor than stress my impending journey.  i mentally packed and that’s a good way to prepare.  the idea of leaving the digs squeaky clean for my buddy watchers went out the window so my fingers are crossed they are forgiving and non-judgemental types.  as soon as the pix are up and at ‘em i swear im gonna get packing.

so the show tonight was awesome.  im not in love with technoy house music but im realizing that there are varieties that move me.  my project for lomo of shooting digital music with analogue film is challenging but i think its gonna be fun to work on.  the guys that played tonight impressed me in Ferropolis for Melt Fest last year and I was loooking forward to seeing them again…here’s a little taste for us while my pix upload.

alright.  i really ought to get my head out of my ass and sort things out so i can catch a little sleep before its time to rally.  take a look at my favorite shots from tonight right here and, if you are feeling it, click here for the whole set.  my vip access allowed for some stage shooting which was fun and helped me avoid the champagne shower the rest of the crowd got.  these guys really impress me.  next time i think ill leave my camera home and shake my ass instead :)  There was an opener and some film shots but Im gonna sort that stuff out later on…

something about this last shot reminds me of the big lebowski.  anyway, im off now…not sure if ill be by here when im hopping between new jersey, arizona and florida (plus 3 other states on my hilarious flight itinerary) but you never know…

Merry Happy Slippery Frohe HoliDAZE

I have been playing the same song now over and over again for the last 3 days.  It was the track my alarm clock woke me up with today and, as I write this, I think it’s been playing for the last 3 hours without stopping.  It happens sometimes that I hear a song that changes my body chemistry…alters my perception and completely consumes me.  It happens a lot actually.  This time its a rare Dylan track called Blind Willie McTell and before I can tell you about any of the other stuff thats going on with me, I have to share this song with you.  Facebook peeps will have to visit my “real blog” to hear the track…

I have no idea if it will infect you as it has me.  I was just talking to a friend about it and the best I could come up with was that this song is like wind.  It blows right through me.

I can get away with laying in bed for hours on end listening to Bob Dylan because the week is over, the holidaze are upon us and I have nothing to do today.  I worked while everybody else I know elbowed their way through over-crowded super markets and stores frantic for last minute gifts and some magic antidote for massive expectations, family drama and not enough time for people they love.  That might sound very ‘bah humbug’ but I dont mean it that way, I just hate to see how a single day can spin people so far out of orbit.  I will partake in some holiday merriment, to be sure, but at this stage in the game I have come to the conclusion that it’s all a little too much.  A little Hanakauh or Christmas or Festivus *everyday* would be better than drowning in it for a couple weeks every winter…don’t you think?  Why not just tell the people that you love that you love them?  Why not just tell your friends you’re grateful for how they put up with your bullshit?  Why not buy that Album for your friend who you know will love it for no reason at all?  Why not bake cookies just because it makes your lover happy and your house smell nice?  Seriously, don’t save it all for this already overloaded season.  That said, this is me telling you that I love you…Im grateful for you…I wish you strength, laughter, adventure, health, peace, love and light this holiday season and for years to come.  Merry Christmas.   Happy Hanakauah.  Merry Kwanza.  Slippery Festivus.  Frohe Weinachten and all that jazz…

Now onto other pressing matters…I *finally* saw some music!!  It had been well over a month since I saw a show, let alone photographed one so you can believe me when I tell you it felt great to be washed in sound and static and noise for a spell.  I caught a folk concert last week at the Bierstindl with a fellow auslander at the helm, a worldy hangdrum session at Triebhaus and then some Berliner’s rocking the likes of The Band and Townes Van Zandt at the pmk.  I didn’t photograph Christine’s show but I enjoyed it anyway…shes a very talented song writer.

The gig at Triebhaus was a guy called Manu Delago and he plays these amazing “hangdrums” backed by a band consisting of an upright bass and piano player.  It was a really unique show filled with very talented musicians.  Here’s a couple of my favs, but you can click here to see the whole album.

In addition to the regular set, Manu also did a series of duets with local Tirolean musicians with interesting interpretations of chirstmas songs.  The sitar and digeridoo (spelling??) tune was beautiful.  It was a really special concert.

I still smell a bit like whiskey and red wine from last nights rock and roll adventure and my voice has that low, raspy sound that comes with the talking too much and saying too little common at noisy rock shows.  My friend Matthais’ band called Son of a Gun opened for a band called No Horse No Rider and all of this was followed by a DJ set by a taleneted guy from Berlin called LITWINENKO (i think).  Albi and Co. were on the turntables in the other room so it was a full night of tunes.  As always, you can see the whole album from last nights pmk show here…here a few of my favs

I am reminded every time I step out of my house that I am a lucky Bean.  Surrounded by good, creative, connected people with dear friends everywhere I go.  It was a fun night.  It was a fun year….

Light Up White Against the Night

The snow has been falling all day and, sitting in my bed right now watching the snow fall, I have a song playing in my head.  The air is so crisp and cold, reflecting orange and gray while the trees light up white against the night.  It is so pretty here sometimes I feel like I’m inside a snow globe…tonight gently shaken so the flakes swirl and rise before falling back down again.  It’s a dream…but it’s a dream that I wake up to every day.

This feeling brings me back a few years…It was a snowy night just like this one only instead of the gentle noise of the Alps I was escaping the constant buzz of Manhattan by ducking behind the velvet curtain at The Living Room on Ludlow Street to see Chris Thile.  I was lucky to have seen more than a few of his gigs in my neighborhood before we both up and left for greener pastures.  There was one night though, that snowy night I just mentioned, that is on my mind.  Maybe its the snow…maybe its the song…maybe its nothing at all…but I feel like sharing.

The room was full and silent.  Whiskey and lager backlit with candles and the wood floor creaking under the occasional snow boot is still vivid in my mind.  Chris’s microphone died before he could even say hello to the crowd but, seeing as though even a packed house was only about 40 people he just took a big tug off his whiskey and said something like…’so this is gonna be an old timey night.”  At that, they dimmed the lights and Chris, alone with a mandoline, played for us for a couple hours.  The Living Room was an apt name that night….acoustic music with no amp, no mic and no noise was only missing a campfire and starry sky to be perfect.  He played Poor Places towards the end of his set and I remember my eyes tearing up and a feeling of being totally overwhelmed…looking back, I could have been feeling overwhelmed with just about anything.  If I recall, things were a little dicey for me back then but Im not really sure.  Im not sure, I suppose, because sitting in my perch in the snow tonight listening to that song I feel exactly the same way.  Fragile but somehow protected…connected to everything but also behind a thin bubble of glass that keeps the snow in and the wind out…a bit like a lady in a snow globe.

It’s my father’s voice trailing off
Sailors sailing off in the morning
For the air-conditioned rooms
At the top of the stairs

His jaw’s been broken
His bandage is wrapped too tight
His fangs have been pulled
And I really want to see you tonight

There’s bourbon on the breath
Of the singer you love so much
He takes all his words from the books
That you don’t read anyway

His jaw’s been broken
His bandage is wrapped too tight
His fangs have been pulled
And I really want to see you tonight

Someone ties a bow
In my backyard to show me love
My voice is climbing walls
Smoking and I want love

My jaw’s been broken
My heart is wrapped in ice
My fangs have been pulled
And I really want to see you tonight

And it makes no difference to me
How they cried all over overseas
When it’s hot in the poor places tonight
I’m not going outside

They cried all over overseas
It makes no difference to me
When it’s hot in the poor places tonight
I’m not going outside

It’s hot in the poor places tonight
I’m not going outside
I’m not going outside
I’m not going outside

Come Again

Listening to Jerry sing Mission in the Rain, drinking peppermint tea with a little Doozer curled by my lap seems like a nice opportunity to tell a story about the good old days…now longer ago than I can believe…but instead, I am going to refrain from telling you about the time I saw the Grateful Dead alone at Giant’s Stadium and walked around the venue no less than four times looking for Fat Albert, my Toyota minivan.  I am also going to refrain from telling you about the slow-speed golf cart chase that ensued in Addison, Vermont at sunrise after an amazing weekend of friends and enlightenment.   Though the ‘good old days’ are very much on my mind tonight I am going to refrain from telling you those stories and tell you, instead, about some fun, new days here in Innsbrucklyn. 

Ive mentioned PMK many, many times because it is, of sorts, my new Wetlands or Bowery or 2A or 3Needs or Nectars…Not that it’s new, but I am so it’s the same difference.  Its a dive bar and club where good things happen and the night before I left for the US of A there was some fun that occurred there.  Sitting here sick for the umteenth (that word looks weird written) day in a row I have some concerns about telling you that I got sauced and stayed out til the sun came up before hopping my flight, but I did.  Some bands, unknown to me, were playing a “big” show and 2 of them ended up being pretty rad.  

Looking back, I think the bill had like 8 bands on it or something insane but I arrived around 11 and caught the last 3.  The first one was a polish grungie metal band called Filth of the Earth.  They sounded a lot like their name would suggest but the lead singer had great abs.  

I stayed there only long enough to fire off a few shots and concentrated on the revelry next door waiting for the show I had come to see.  By the time Warren Suicide took the stage I was slightly lubricated so they’re total dance party vibe was easy to slip into.  They were very high energy and, though I can’t recall how even one of their songs goes, I had a ton of fun with these guys.  So much fun, in fact, that I would seek them out again for sure.  There was as much boogie happening as shutter-clicking so take these shots with a Dead Sea’s worth of salt, okay?

By the time their set was finished it was the wee-hours and everybody was marinated and excited about T Raumschmiere (for those of you unsure how to say that, its like Raum-schmear-er) a German ElectroClash superstar and lush.  He poured a beer over his head at the get go, took off his shirt and then went off.  The music reminded me a little bit of the dancey Nine Inch Nails with heavy industrial beats.  There was definitely a rock and roll element too and, generally speaking, I liked it.  His pants were way too low and the forceful, drunken stage show made me want to back up but, all in all, it was a treat and also good fun.  Apparently this guy plays much bigger rooms than the petite PMK so this was a treat for everybody and it had that feel.  I was on my 4th Radler around the time these shots were fired so be kind…

Would I seek this guy out again, you ask?  I probably would.  I was always a fan of Nine Inch Nails (even moreso after seeing Trent Reznor sing acoustic at the Bridge School Benefit) and I liked the vibe.  Curious?  Check out a little on MySpace….Living in Europe, especially Austria, I need to make some nice with electronic music and I feel like this new-to-me genre of ElectroClash has some potential.

I hope you enjoyed the photos as much as I enjoyed taking them…and that you can take some comfort in knowing that one day these days…the ones we’re living right now, will be the good old days.

This Will Annoy You

An extra hour for the Post Rock kiddies to drink themselves into oblivion was the extra hour that This Will Destroy You needed for the crowd to be fully marinated and ready for their set.  I think they took the stage around 1 something and to say the the volume was deafening is an understatement.  It was loud as hell and there was a wall of drunken kids in front of the stage absorbing much of the noise.  After EF’s postrock awesomeness a few weeks ago, I was looking forward to the show but, in my opinion, it wasnt even close.  Every song started exactly the same way and ended in exactly the same place…where one ended and the next began seemd arbitrary to me.  It’s like a new genre of jamband only instead of hippie noodling and twirling this one comes with head thrashing and holding onto the front of the stage to brace yourself .  The crowd was totally into it and I felt a little like an alien just watching and observing a totally strange ritual or something.  The highpoint of the night was not the music and certainly nt the photos of the music, but instead some QT with people I like.

Here’s a glimpse at the pix but, its true for me that my work is better when Im inspired and that was clearly not the case last night.

I heard there is more of this genre on tap for tonight with a band called Caspain and, though im intrigued now, I am on the fence.  Just gonna have to see how I feel in some hours.

Slickness & ProgRock

Every now and again (more often than I ever expect) something rolls into this little Tyrolean Valley and brings the world I remember with it.  Last night the Adrian Belew Trio played a club called Komma in a little village about 30 minutes east of me.  I rolled into the club just in time to hear Eric kick things off and remembered how often I find myself in awe at his talent…His sister, Julie, is also quite a prodigy and when you glue those two together with Adrian’s style its a pretty amazing show.  The sound in the club wasnt perfect and there was one drunk doucbag who kept “conducting” the band as though he was driving but neither of those two things prevented me from enjoying myself.  For those of you not sure who Adrian Belew is, hes a rock legend whose played with plenty of amazing musicians among them King Crimson.  I first saw the Trio play at the 1st Annual Paul Green School of Rock Festival and knew they were worthy but enjoyed last nights show much more.  Complicated rock is more fun for me in a little room where I can concentrate.  After the show and a little QT they packed it in and so did I.  All in all, an exceptional night of rock in Tirollllll.

These are my favorite shots from last night but feel free to peruse the whole album right here.