schattenraum

Es ist Sonntag, ich habe keine Schokolade im Haus und leider hat mir auch niemand welche zum Geburtstag geschenkt. Daher betone ich noch einmal: Ich mag Schokolade. Der nächste Geburtstag ist noch hin, aber hin und wieder möchte man ja einem lieben Menschen einfach so mal etwas schenken.

Danke für alle Glückwünsche, die mich gestern auf unterschiedlichsten Wegen erreichten. Ich werde hier auch mal wieder etwas mehr schreiben. Das hatte sich irgendwie nicht mehr so richtig ergeben.

Flohmärkte in kleineren Städten sind irgendwie noch erfrischender als in Berlin. Und ehrlich, all diese tollen Sachen hätte ich doch dort nie zusammen für 2,60 Euro bekommen:

Mein Auto ist verkauft. Hoffe ich. Eine Anzahlung und ein unterschriebener Kaufvertrag liegen hier, trotzdem bin ich noch nicht so ganz sicher.

Aus Zufall wurde genau heute die Anzeige in der WZ geschaltet, während ich zwei Tage zu Omas 85. Geburtstag daheim bin. Der erste Anruf ging um 6.30 Uhr morgens ein. Samstags. Zwei libanesische Autohändler riefen seitdem abwechselnd alle fünf Minuten an, um mich darauf einzuschwören, den Wagen ja nicht jemand anderem zu verkaufen, bevor sie eintreffen und um ein fünftes oder zehntes Mal die Adresse genannt zu bekommen. Dass sie dann beide zeitgleich eintrafen, sich kannten und gleich gemeinsam auf arabisch diskutierten, wirkte da nur noch leicht verwirrend.

Danke, Papa, dass du die Verhandlungen und den Papierkram erledigt hast. Ich glaube der ganzen Aktion zwar erst, wenn echtes Geld unwiderruflich auf irgendeinem Konto eingegangen ist (ich bin sicher, da wird es trotz Vertrag noch Versuche von Nachverhandlungen beim Abholen am Montag geben), aber, inschallah, war’s das jetzt.

Ohne das Klischee vom faulen Studenten allzusehr strapazieren zu wollen; ich halte es für legitim, wenn der Tagesablauf aufgrund sinnvoller Planungen hin und wieder so aussieht, dass man erst am Nachmittag Termine außer Haus wahrnimmt. Wenn man dann aber sowohl im Getränkemarkt (16:45) als auch in der Drogerie (17:10) mit „Schönen Abend noch“ verabschiedet wird, obwohl man im Kopf noch so vormittaglich gestimmt ist, ist das schon störend.

Bin wieder da. Sobald ich ausgepackt/aufgeräumt habe und wieder gesund bin, gibt es auch noch mehr Tourberichte. Bis dahin kann man sich schon mal die schicken Fotos vom supertollen Paul anschauen. Eins davon, ganz uneitel mit mir im Motiv (hier im Blog als Ego-Ding darf ich das natürlich):

day 3: sunday, sept 16.

location: manchester
shirt: raven gegen deutschland
mood: fine

Paul and his girlfriend made some full English breakfast for us (ham and egg, toast, baked beans, fried tomato and tea, of course). A great start into the third day. After breakfast we had an hour to take a quick walk in the center of Leeds. No time to stop and have a closer look at anything, but it feels like a city I want to return to someday and spend some more time in. (Actually, I bought a stupid neon yellow acid smiley shirt.)

We picked up all the equipment at the Pack Horse and set off for Manchester. It is only about an hour from Leeds, but as Paul went with us, we had to repack the already crammed car to fit all of us in. Sitting on the back seat, I could not really move but at least it was cozy and warm. On our way to Manchester it started raining.

We somehow missed the correct exit and ended up at the other end of Manchester’s city centre. A lot of the streets there are one-way only, so we needed another half hour or so to find the venue, „Café Saki“.

Soundcheck was uneventful, and although the Saki is not called a pub, but a bar (some difference in licensing, I guess), it was basically one room where they had set up a PA system at one end as a makeshift stage. We witnessed a car crash at the street in front of the venue and also saw how the responsible driver just  reversed and speeded off. After soundcheck we went for some curry (they kept telling us that Manchester was the capital of curry dishes), but ended up at a lebanese falafel take-away and ate way to much shawarma and chips. I saw the driver whose car had been hit still talking to the police hours later.

The first artist, x (I have to look up their names later, sorry), had cancelled about one hour before we arrived, so y played instead. A friend introduced him as the world’s best guitar player. Actually, he was quite great, playing nice and very fast guitarrero songs with a definite indian feel to it, making the last song sound as if played on a sitar.

z was the second to enter the stage, playing a short set of atmospheric noise composition on his Alesis Ion synth.

There were only about 20 people at the place when Theresa started, but her show was very well received and I think that she sold some CDs afterwards. The sound was okay, only way to loud, most likely because the sound guy misunderstood Theresa’s requests to turn it up for one song and left it at that volume.

We stayed with Andreas, who also was the night’s DJ (playing very nice Icelandic music and also an old song of Paul’s band, something so unexpected that Paul freaked out a little). There almost was an accident when we followed the car to Andreas‘ place. Somehow their trunk door(?) was not shut properly, so it suddenly opened while driving through Manchester and we almost run over the PA’s loudspeaker stands falling out.

I guess we just had another quick beer at Andreas‘ and went to sleep early because the next day would have us drive 300 miles from Manchester down to Margate on the southwestern coast.

Things learned:

• „Manchester is rainy, Leeds is windy.“

day 2: saturday, sept 15.

location: leeds
shirt: rütli
mood: excited

Today was probably our only lazy day of this tour. We slept well into the day and had an extra slow breakfast. Paul took us to see some cool church ruin and we picked up some beer at the supermarket. This little walk maybe was the best idea as some fresh air and sunshine was excactly what we needed to recharge our batteries.

Back at Paul’s, we packed our stuff and went to the first venue, a pub called „The Pack Horse“. Soundcheck was quite uneventful apart from the microphone giving electric shocks to Theresa holding her guitar (after replacing all the cables and swapping microphones we settled on using another guitar amp).

We had our lunch at some curry/pizza/döner takeaway next door. Although being desparately hungry, neither of us managed to finish as the pizzas turned out to be bigger than expected.

Fast forward 30 minutes: The gig starts with „Quip“, a one-guy-guitar-and-laptop outfit, building up sonic landscapes while projecting images of paragliding over mountains, something that worked quite well together.

The second act was „We’re not the cool kids“, a one-girl-microphone-and-laptop outfit, singing and screaming her songs into her chaotic filter setups, building  them up to droning feedback and harsh clipping noises. We’ll be seeing her again in London on Tuesday, although she will not perform again.

Next: The golden diskó ship embarks on her first sonic voyage into the hearts and heads of the English public. Not much to say about that really, as Theresa played wonderfully (as expected) and the crowd liked it (as expected). No sound problems as far as I could tell. A very good start to the tour.

Finally, „The Pattern Theory“ was on stage, four guys (drums, bass, two guitars, no voice) building up very dense atmospheric sounds, very art rock style. The drummer was exceptionally great, keeping very odd measures without problems and even playing the xylophone at the same time. I bought their ep which was on sale for £3. It was a great concert night.

Leaving the pub, we ended up on a private costume party we had been invited to by somebody from the audience. It was somebody’s 26th birthday party and it was completely mad with people dancing in one room filled with smoke from a disco fog machine and weird stroboscopes. Everybody was very drunk there. We agreed that everything looked not like a real party, but like a party set up for a movie „party scene“. We ate chocolate cake and drank the Carlsberg we had brought along. Finally all of us walked home to Paul’s place and went to bed.

Things learned:

• I don’t really think there is something similar to a British „pub“ in Germany, where normal people of all ages sit downstairs while rock concerts are played upstairs.
• Also, I never heard Underworld’s „Born Slippy“ played at full volume in a German Kneipe. Lager, Lager, Lager, Lager.
• Ah, Lager. In England, you basically have a choice between rather dark traditional beers and quite watery Lager imported from all over the world. „Bier ist auch Gegend„, as Katz&Goldt say, so I naturally opt for those ales and bitters.

As you might or might not know, I spontaneously found myself joining Theresa’s one week tour of England. This is some sort of diary.

day 1: friday, sept 14.

location: hamburg, street, street, street, leeds
shirt: commodore
mood: sleepy

Yesterday had Theresa and me travelling from Berlin to Benni’s flat in Hamburg. Nice people and beer there, something I think will be the standard situation for the next eight days.

After something like four hours of uncomfortable sleep we embarked on a seven hour drive to Hoek van Holland to get onto the ferry leaving at 2:45 pm. Soundtrack: Death in Vegas, Die goldenen Zitronen, Jose Gonzales, Kid606, Autreche, The Beach Boys.

Another seven hours aboard the ferry had us watching the Simpsons Movie at the ferry’s own cinema and passing some more time sitting on the floor and playing an unscripted little concert, Theresa on the guitar, me on my laptop, all connected to the small battery powered guitar amp. Surprisingly, nobody told us to stop although we were sitting right in front of the passenger cabins where people most likely tried to sleep.

Arrived in Harwich at about 9 pm local time. Five more hours of driving, all done by brave Benni with support by plenty of caffeine (and me, I hope). Soundtrack: Sex Pistols, Reef the lost cauze, Themselves, Tunng, Modest Mouse, André Galluzzi.

Only two detours due to construction work on our way to Leeds. Some confused time searching for Paul’s (the tour’s promoter’s) house. First impression of his neighbourhood: A group of young men hurled these plastic fence poles of a roadside construction site at the car driving right ahead of us. Finally arrived at Paul’s house. Had some not-quite-cold cans of not-quite-good Heineken beer we bought on the ferry. Finally, nice and comfy bed and sleeping bags waiting for us after being awake for 24 hours and 10 minutes. End of day one.

Things learned:

• Panic about driving on the left side on the streed subsides after an hour (at least for me in the passenger seat–I’ll have to confirm that driving myself tomorrow).
• You can be dead tired after a day of basically sitting around (if it involves three countries, 13 hours on the road and 7 hours on a ferry).
• It is impossible to read street signs in England in the dark while driving by if you only have a faint idea where exactly you are going.
• I seem to have a completely different musical socialization compared to Benni and Theresa. I knew the names of about 50% the bands we listened to in the car and had heard maybe 5% of it before.

ich mag: „Neues vom Trickser“ von Tocotronic

ich mag nicht: DVDs ohne Untertitel (aktuell: Life on Mars. Manchester. 1973. Nuscheln.)