In no particular order, as all these people suck in one way or another and can spoil the joy of live concerts completely.
The “movies or it didn’t happen”-girl
Taking pictures of the band is soooo 2006. With the newest smartphone or a smart-cam you are able to record the whole show and have it up on Vimeo in no time. But what about drinking beer, rasing your horns or dancing? All this will only lead to a blurry recording, so please, stand as firm as possible and keep shooting angry gazes at those concert goers who dare to come in physical contact with you.
The guy from work whose colleagues told him that the band is cool
Probably you will be still wearing suit and tie from work. And most probably you’ll wish to be at a Tina Turner-concert as soon as the band fires the first riff. But the funky young brunette from accounting has invited you, and so you’ll pretend to like the band and stand around being the complete foreign body that you are. At least you can show off at the coffee dock tomorrow – but only if the band finishes at 10 and you can get the last bus.
Dimebag did not approve such behaviour. Image by bog_king
The uber-aloof scene guy.
Yes, you have been here before. About a million times. You wear the right clothing. You have 8 layers of tattoos all over your body, including the eyebrows. And not one sucking newcomer band in this world will be able to make you move an inch to their sound. An approving headnod is reserved for Iron Maiden and other such demi-gods. The drawback of this is that you will also not move an inch even in the first row of the show. Strategically positioned, 10 of your type in a crowd of 300 can ruin a complete show for band and audience.
The knacker from the suburbs
You know exactly one song of the band. But that one is nicely energetic and aggressive. So you saved the price of the ticket from your job as a construction worker and are here with some of your homies. And approximately after the 2nd song will you take off you shirt and start pushing the people in front of you around. Even at a Sigur Ros show. Besides the primate-like behaviour and the annoyance it causes for the people around you, flying drops of sweat from your hairy back can actually spoil all beers within a radius of 200 meters.
Today I feel like shit. Officially. Please make the weekend come quickly so I can sleep 20 hours in a row, because that’s what I need to do. To lift me and you up, here’s at least some Friday-science-fiction-awesomeness from the internets. To be more precise, a fake 80ies-intro for Firefly. Thanks, Nerdcore.
It’s the first of July. This means that the first half of this year has passed. And it was a good year so far. I did overcome my fear of flying (it seems), was finally able to make up for 3 years without carnival in Cologne, started writing for more publications than ever before in my life, and created a huge project together with a friend that I have not seen very regularly these last years. On the downside I’m basically always tired, have constant dark circles around my eyes and ruined my stomach. But who cares?
The next big thing on my list is the book. Gulp. But we collected so much interesting stuff and material in Iceland, I think I’ll be able to create something out of it. And I hope that after finishing my current writing course, I’ll be able to pitch a couple of stories to bigger (or printed) magazines. So, if you know someone who is searching for an expat writer who loves to write about music, my “about”-page has just been updated. Danke. Here’s to another great six months.
“Sure,” he says “this town is dead.” I’m sitting in a bar in Solingen, a small town in Germany, talking to a local legend. Jacob is a Punk rocker born and bred, and is representative for artists in this town.
Solingen is a rainy city in North Rhine-Westphalia. It sits on the northern edge of the region called Bergisches Land, south of the Ruhr area and east of the Rhine, and has a population of about 170,000. It is known for the manufacturing of swords and knives and not much else. It is the town I was born in. Like many smaller towns in Germany, Solingen suffers from bloodletting: it has no college, and few jobs available to young people with leaving certificates. Not very appealing to anyone who wants to become a musician – so people leave town.
“After finishing school I stayed in Berlin for a while, where I first encountered punk.” Jacob tells me, fondling his Beck’s and taking a deep sip. “From there I moved to Cologne, where I started playing in bands and still do, even making it to a couple of US-tours and a record deal. But I never had the guts to sever all the ties that connected me to Solingen.” Jacob lives a small apartment in Solingen and has also rented a room in a shared flat in Cologne, where he stays if the band rehearsal of his current combo takes longer than expected, and to prepare for tours. “The one thing about Solingen that always fascinated me is the fact that we have more bands per capita than any other city in Germany. I guess this is why we came up with the term ‘Rock City No. 1′. ”
The few people left in Solingen fighting to keep up some kind of music scene are a close bunch. With only 2 venues hosting live shows, bands and promoters have to rely on improvised shows in rehearsal spaces whenever possible. To spread the word about Solingen, Jacob (who at the time had become the manager of one of the venues in town) and other promoters came up with the above mentioned slogan. Due to its DIY-shows and -culture, Rock City Solingen made a name throughout Germany, and for a couple of years bands were flocking to town. Not that they made any money with it.
“As it always happens, people move on. You did.” He points his finger at me and smirks. “But we never lost hope in this boring town. Venues closed, new ones opened up.” From a semi-professional approach of marketing shows, the next generation of artists has moved to a much more simple principle. They opened up a members club in the run-down storage room of a disused train station. Every member can run a show or event of his or her liking, all is financed by the club fees, and visitors pay a small entrance fee that makes you a club member for the night of the event only. “It’s the same old story for this town. But I still like it here, it’s so well-arranged and you get to know everyone. Anyhow, I’m off. See you around.” He sips the last mouthful of beer and leaves me to pay for it, slowly walking to the door. As I watch him departing into the rain, the first chords of the band on stage fill the room.
If you’re reading this blog and following me a bit, you’ll know that I’m going to Iceland in June to create a portrait of Iceland and its music scene, as a big online project and in all likelihood also in printed form – my first published book, yay. Me and my partner Kai have been working diligently the last months to get our project off the ground, and all is looking good: Iceland Express is sponsoring our flights, we found a nice and cheap apartment right in the middle of Reykjavik and will probably also have a car to go around the island (and visit my old friend Eyjafjallajökull, who kept me from flying so often in the last four weeks).
But even though we are offering a great platform (and a finished concept), we could (strangely) not attract partners to support us financially. Most Sales/PR departments these days seem to think that offering some of their brands products and other promotional items will have people like us on our knees, thanking them for the great support they’ve given us. Yeah, whatever. Our budget is estimated at around 7,000 euros (including travel expenses), and we will front most of it up on our own.
This means that I am now relying on the help of my friends – here’s what we offer over at Sonic Iceland, if you donate a small amount to help us: if you donate 20 Euros, we will
- Talk to some elves and you will never, ever sleep badly again. Promise.
- Send you a postcard from Iceland, signed by a real Icelandic person (whoever we meet).
- List your name on the «best people in the world» site.
So, please head over to our blog and donate. We really need it. And if you do donate, we’ll do our best to present you with sights and sounds like this one below, to allow you take Iceland home. Takk!
I love the world. And because of this, I also love the internet. Just because it provides access to some many great ideas, projects and things from great minds from all around the world. And it also washes up great things in intervals again. An example: this morning, Sarah from Dragstripgirl tweetet about this great article on Mental Floss, where they celebrate the overall awesomeness of the mother of all webcomics, xkcd, and everything else it inspired. This in turn reminded me of the heart-wrenching (and a bit cheesy) Discovery Channel promo video, the strip on xkcd it inspired and the two live-action version of the strip, especially the one done by Olga Nunes. And so, here are the two version. Enjoy the videos, enjoy the internet, enjoy the world and enjoy your weekend. Boom-de-yada.
