September 11, 2010

Biel, Switzerland Schrottbar Festival w/ Abrupt, Unkind, Nailbiter, Global Parasite, etc.

Tyler and I are woken up in our bunk beds by a still wasted long hair man wearing spiked gauntlets who Brett has brought in to be our alarm clock. We are to leave at 9am because today’s fest promoters say we should be there by 1pm. However, the gate to the street is locked and no one knows where the key master is. Timo is stuck outside on the street with the van and Greg is talking down to him from the window telling him our situation. Eventually, the person holding keys gets out of bed somewhere far above us in the upper stories of the squat and we make our escape.

-Dan

Sometimes mixed drinks are served in plastic bags

We arrive in Biel, Switzerland and park next to some port-a-potties at a park. Upon exiting our vehicle it becomes clear that all the people that we saw driving up were not just here for a punk festival but some of them were attending a cookout/organized, pick-up 5 on 5 soccer tourney. There was also a stage set up next to the soccer field which we originally thought might have been for the punk festival. It turns out however that the stage was the home for a 5 hour set of a aging 70’s rock band with lots of lyrics about smoking weed. Appropriate since the smell of burning hash was inescapable throughout the park.

To the left of the soccer pitch we noticed what looked like a graphiti covered Thunderdome with a smashed apart car atop it. We would be performing within. We wandered around stepping over human crust wreckage passed out from the party the night before. Any other punks awake at 2:00 PM when we arrived had obviously not yet been to bed, though their dogs probably had, as these several dozen bandanna clad beasts had plenty of energy to bark, run, fight, and sniff ass. I found a truck trailer next to the graphitt-o-dome that has been made into a burrito factory where ordering was made especially challenging due to the inclusion of an enormous sound system blasting a porpouri of thrashing-ripper-piss drenched boot-crust (later they added some Beastie Boys, and classic rock to the mix). The burrito was decent to good. We put up a valiant effort at the kicker table, conveniently located next to the soccer grounds. We realized that apparently the soccer tournament was open to all comers when a pro looking team of 5 Swiss bros started a match against a mish mash of a team that included a kid, someone with a broken arm, a rando crustie, and a guy who could have been an extra in This Is England. Eventually Brett joined his friends from St Entiene and took the field against 5 guys who looked like the practiced soccer kicks often. Bretts team was obviously on performance dis-enhancing substances and most of them were wearing combat boots. They lost 1,548 to 0. Troi eventually was brought off the bench but couldn’t muster up a goal, though he did lose his shoe while trying a double rainbow kick.

Dirt kicker

Play time was over and it was time to join the other punks drinking in the grass. We had endless hours to pass testing our levels of inebriation, recovering and starting again. One woman rolled a joint that must have been 10 inches long and fat as a baby’s arm. Next to our van was a giant puddle of standing water that stood in for a water dish, urinal, and vomit receptacle for many a dog and a few humans. There were fires, competing boom boxes, and a lovely mix of punks, resident park goers, and randos wandering through. After several hours the band food was ready. We ate some greens, and several types of skin like fake meat products which were pretty tasty. A chocolate cake and tiramsu dessert rounded out the menu. Most impressive tour feast thus far

Thunderdome stage

The crowd thinned out around 8 PM or so, I assume its finally time to catch some shut eye before the second night of bands begins. Around midnight the throngs return and the first band starts to play French punk cover songs for well over an hour. We finally get to play at around 3 AM, we are the fourth of six bands to play this evening. The sound guy is apparently too fucked up to mic one of the guitars... who cares. I found out later that he was forced into indentured servitude after traveling to the fest with no money to pay the entrance fee. Dan did a boot touch jump and landed in a huge puddle of liquid, he’s lucky he didn’t break something falling to the ground. The entire festival was powered by speed and hash which kept the venue full even at such a late hour, but also meant you were asked the same rapidly spoken question by the same person over and over again anytime you ran into them. There was still at least one more band to play, probably a dance party to come and a fire being started next to the busted up car on top of the amphetamine-dome by the time we headed to the sleeping place at around 5 AM. Long drive tomorrow, so we need to get up before 9.

-Tyler

Punx tractor

More photos to come

September 10, 2010

Stroussburg, France w/Unkind, Cayenne, and two folk acoustic singers @ Chez Mimir

Wake up to room of snoring men and expect to repeat this many times. The promoters are making breakfast so I go jogging before it is time to eat. We are made pancakes with apple sauce, breads with guacamole/spreads, and spicy beans. Again it is delicious. I also hear that Manuel rode a bike through the place last night and ran over sleeping people.

Drive to Stroussburg. Sit in traffic. Find venue. Three story squat with courtyard. We eat more good food. Men start playing acoustic folk avant garde musics and the place is packed. Greg and I wander off to walk around the city and look at old shit. Take pictures at creepy old church, walk to park in front of giant court house looking building with lots of statues everywhere, encounter group of well dressed Jewish couples out partying and they stop us to bullshit for a while and ask me to sing them a song and tell us they are looking for nice boys to date two of the single girls in the group. They also told some joke that we didn’t get and talked about NYC. We go back to show.

It is 1am and the punk bands have started playing. The early civilian crowd has rotated out for the punk crowd. Lots of drunk couples making out. We play and I have to stand to the side by the door because the mic cord is only about 12 feet long. By this time it is nearly 3am and alcohol has destroyed sobriety all around us. Bottle are dropping, the floor is slippery with beer and littered with broken glass. People are stumble moshing and yell into the mics while we play. Two of them fall down so I sit on them and sing half a song. It is chaos and filth. Some wasted French music fan in a black fedora and Paul Schaeffer glasses is speaking to me in words that are not English and wants my beer. He keeps asking me things I can’t understand and kissing me on the cheek and I assume this is the French way so I use this interaction to amuse myself.

September 9, 2010

Giessen, Germany w/ Unkind, Septic Dieter @ AK 44

First show. The promoter tells us that we play in the basement because it is better to have a small room full of people than the bigger room upstairs mostly empty. This does not sound promising already and then he says they expect 15 to 20 guests. We played in the main room on the last tour but I don’t remember how many people were there, maybe they are right.

The basement is small and much like a dungeon. Low ceilings, arched doorways, stone walls, dust, and later, filled with smoke. As small as it is, there is still room for a bar, of course. We load our equipment in and go upstairs to relax and wait for food.

Unkind shows up and we meet everyone for the first time. We will spend the next two weeks playing with this Finnish band. They are somewhat personable but seem happier to be by themselves. One of their guitarists, Tony, who was in Rotten Sound, is more friendly and hangs out with us for while. First meal of tour is delicious: baked red peppers stuffed with spinach, pine nuts, and sunflower seeds/ potato, squash, and zucchini casserole/sautéed tofu with peppers/some sauce or gravy to put over everything. After we eat this, two apple pie/cakes appear. German promoters do it right.

The show starts and there are more than 20 people, closer to 50. Basement is full. We break a string in the first song. My vocals hold up well after years of minimal practice. German audiences are notoriously stoic, only confirmation they are enjoying themselves is the clapping at the end of a song. It is strange when they ask for more songs at the end of the set after an evening of folded arms. Outside, many people are on LSD and getting dumb. A few are thrown out.

Drinking increases immediately after things are packed up. There is some plan to go to a local bar to drink more and dance(?). My first instinct is to turn down this retard plan but historically the nights I stay back are the nights that I miss out on the most bizarre or amusing events. So, I go along.

We stay outside and drink the free beers we brought with us, waiting for 3am when there is no more cover charge. Then, we enter and take over a third of the dance floor for our own brand of drunk body motions and foolishness. Troi loses his shirt and I retreat to only a wifebeater. We party hard, to the point that some locals approach Troi and one says “I want to dance but not with a faggot”. Greg and Troi respond by maxing out the gay dance man boy contact. Locals leave in disgust and we continue our first show celebration until it becomes a blur. Maybe unfortunately, many pictures exist.

Brett and Troi reconnect on the dance floor

We stumble home

I pass out quickly but not before Manuel knocks over a beer on my pants and jacket. Later, Brett comes to sleep in the wet spot.

September 5-8, 2010

Leave Tampa Sunday at 2:30. Change planes in Atlanta, which strangely has no cell phone signal. Change planes again in Paris. International flight is not as luxurious as the previous tours. No individual seat back tv to watch channels/movies of your choice. We have an older plane with tube screen monitors mounted to the ceiling every five feet. All passengers watch the same things: Prince of Persia with Jake Gyllenhal and Ben Kingsley flowed by Shrek forever after. Arrive in Hannover, Germany at 11:30am, jet lagged and exhausted. Meet Timo and the rest, find out that we are going to eat and then straight to practice.

The next days are practice, walking around Hannover, smoking endless joints, drinking at Manuel’s house. I went jogging one night with Manuel and felt great about life.

I also slipped and fell getting out of the shower one night landing on my right ass cheek and left elbow. I got up right away and tried to forget it.

Troi is freedom eagle

Relearning by doing

Good coffee?