Gig Report

[Tony Hardie-Bick]

beautiful words, jay

really impressive piece of writing - i can sense the energy of the events
echoing in every word

i hope one day you'll give gcc a rest, and compile words with greater 
frequency

tony (the captain)

On 07/10/13 11:40, Jay Vaughan wrote:
> The journey started with us early arrivals assembling on all fronts
> .. I myself beginning the couch-surf adventure in the heights atop
> dear JoostSch's perchy Den Haag launchpad, joined shortly after in
> the battle for cat-hair supremacy by Micke, The Swede.  We three,
> after a day of pre-pre- jamming, formed a new band, and spent a few
> minutes here and there doing what bands never do which is sort out
> the cables.  With nought but a notion that Micke, The Swede's
> noodlings where indeed sweet, and faith in JoostSch's ability to
> tweak and stroke and fumble and furrow all sorts of sonic-adventure
> out there, we sped off towards the Gert Zone on a train-ride that
> was alas, for the itinerant napper, too short.  We got there.
>
> Gert, our Galactic Emperor, had arranged for all his various tribal
> conquests to present their legion, and present they did!  In a small
> nondescript jam room atop a dusty work shed in a place that has some
> address like no-name industrial strip-park #whatever, Wageningen,
> The Netherlands.  Nope, that's not right.  Oh yeah: the Jam room was
> called NUDEPARK! No better Omen! As we made our way into the very
> room of our deliverance, we noticed with interest the entirely tiny
> mixer.  Good thing we got the cable-thingy sorted!  So, myself and
> Micke, The Swede, Joost .. got set up.  iPad-instruments, Korgs new
> splork thingies, and .. not much else gear wise.  We played a little
> warmup, clashed on what to play a bit, plugged in, and promptly got
> scolded at.  First jam for the band, sorted!
>
> So while we sat out and chilled to let the process continue, Mr.
> Zacherl managed to give me the real whillies!  I had not previously
> properly acquainted myself with his .. instrument .. and when I was
> taught the glory of its ways I felt as if I'd been teleported
> directly into the scene right at the beginning of the show, or maybe
> on the poster, of a film about some alien death device in the hands
> of a religious maniac!  Well, thats the thought I had as I witnessed
> his first warmup at the NUDEPARK, and I'm sure the lighting of the
> place had nothing to do with the zany, crazy, energy of his
> punishment.  It was, and I mean it sincerely, awe-inspiring.  Right,
> methinks, this gig is going to be tremendous.  Especially knowing
> that we had Gert and Perry on our side as well!
>
> The next day, Friday was it?  I don't recall amid all the
> waving-around of eyelids that seem to imply sleep occurred.  It
> wasn't needed: the second jam was enough folic sustenance for days,
> as this time round we were joined by the lord of thumping and
> bumping and plucking and stroking and all things you can do with the
> space in between and with, string and the wood, the much loved Tony
> Hardie-Bick.  He proceeded to astound and befuddle.  Oh, the second
> jam did proceed indeed, but I can tell you that at this point it was
> certainly a soiree, too.  The arrivals of the day, Romain, Mohsen,
> the families, Marek, Geezer, well .. the whole thing snowballed.  We
> had some music-making in there among all the new acquaintance'ing
> that was going on.  There was some sort of conclusion by the Emperor
> that, indeed, we did have enough music for the evening, and it was
> all going to be all right, and thats all we needed, so off for some
> more eyelid waving we went.
>
> So, Saturday .. it was suddenly Saturday.  To find oneself in the
> historic streets of Wageningen, unburdened by much at all but the
> desire to get through the Emperors Music Program for the evening,
> was a delicate, personal joy.  War, music: whatever we wage, it seems
> to start with a list.  Drijfzand, Jay, Joost, Micke, Michael Z.,
> Rolf, Tony HB, Mohsen, Diphtong, Ducoanella, Understate Men, Tony
> Scharf, Rolf, Romain, Tom, PunkDISCO, Geezer, Rene .. there were
> some unknowns in that list.  Well, we started anyway, because the
> knowns were itchy and the time had come to scratch.
>
> Gert kicked it off, two nice tracks (with noodle), and Rolf doing
> the graphics.  We had graphics!  In fact, Rolf slowly applied his mad
> vid skills to the evolving picture all evening, he was most
> definitely The Light Guy!  Spirited Projection!  Music-Bar Band #157
> came on (thats us) and in spite of JoostSch's late arrival we somehow
> managed to not screw things up!!  Gert was even amazed!  He was
> actually really amazed!  The amazement on his face, as he approached
> the stage, was definitely a bit shocking .. thrilling .. turning to
> un-bridled joy at his "Is this you guys?  Is this really you guys
> making this wonderful music?  Were you pulling my leg at the jams?"
> statement of disbelief.  Hah hah, well .. as we do, Music-Bar Band
> #157 just went along with it.
>
> So then Mr. Z brought his electronic whip to the rodeo.  Its still
> the afternoon, remember, the threat of rain isn't really stopping
> the lovely Dutch from enjoying their street life, but actually the
> place is starting to fill.  I hear a lot of "Hi Gert, Happy
> Birthday"'s in the background but I'm not really tuning in to the
> newcomers.  Mr. Z has begun the terrorising, and .. its working ..
> enchantment all around.  Sudden dreaming, I would call it.  He and
> Rolf, the Light Master, are engaged in a confluence, and the feedback
> loop between them is starting to be clearly constructed with intent
> to distribute .. something is being constructed here, some shape of
> destiny, a geometry, yielded by those who would rather just take a
> chance.  We didn't know we could go so far by 7pm, but we did!
>
> While all this is going on, more of the troops are mustering, and I
> ask Gert how he's going.  Big thumps up and the trademark grin!  So
> on with the show, and Mr. Hardie-Bick gets the stage.  At which
> point he rolls it over, spanks out the bugs, gives it a new gloss,
> and installs it in the decks of some luxury cruise-liner that's been
> parked, for tax reasons, in the back of a quarry.  Waiting, ever,
> for the flood.  Floating along when it happens for no chance reason,
> serendipity delivers the luxury cruiser, and Mr. Hardy-Bick its
> Captain to sunnier, worthier, windy seas.  He and his stick alone is
> all it took to get the sails afloat.
>
> So now .. afternoon set completed .. We take a small break, and
> among the audience - and indeed there is an audience - suddenly
> appear Paul and Leah.  All day we had been having calls of "so-and-so
> is here!" and "such and such are arriving in a few minutes", but no
> such frisson as the sizzle among the -bar cognoscenti which occurred
> upon the installation of PunkDISCO among us.  And oh so smooth.
> Damn. Not to be fooled by their humble admission of nerves, smitten
> as I was, I turned back to the stage and realised that the show was
> actually, going to be a damn good one.  So, it was pause, we had got
> the afternoon program completed.  People walking by in the streets
> were sniffing, there was interest .. and truly great music going on
> .. and .. the show had started!
>
> Just the mid-section to go next, and then the later-evening. Another
> check of the Emperor, and I realise I'm now in uncharted territories
> .. Diphtong, Duocanella, Understate Men.  Who were these people?  I
> only recognised one name in the list for the mid-section of The
> Program, and that was the Tony Scharf tune-in, which I had to
> somehow wire up.  Hmm .. A word with Gert, and he's got it all under
> the control: the strangers are of course all his old friends!  He'll
> start to get them together so .. Time to well .. Tune In Tony
> Scharf! Do You Read Me, Over .. pause .. actually, Yes. Tony Scharf,
> all tuned in.  All the way from actual America, digitally streaming
> us his mental and musical coordinates through a series of
> demonstrations of analog placement of the digits.  A few buffering
> problems notwithstanding, the remote Artist got a fair bit of
> applause, which I hope the archives of the event eventually deliver
> to their rightful owner..  So .. up they went, Gert's old friends,
> somewh at strangers to the new friends and probably vice versa .. a
> true colliding of planetary orbital systems .. Diphtong, doing
> acoustic Americana as if, indeed, he'd lived it all his life (or
> perhaps 10 other previous lives), seriously slicking the soul as only
> a boy borne of dirty dutch song tradition can deliver!  It had all
> the pickings. Duocanella, a no show alas.. Understate Men .. really
> pleasing the Loburg crowd, actually, people coming to listen and
> drink.  Gerts' old friends doing what they'd been doing for years:
> making great music.  Gerts new friends, also.  Definitely a binary
> system in operation, swinging and beating and humming along .. some
> of us there, some of us not, but all of us making music for all ages,
> and many lives.
>
> Truth be told, the mid-section of the evening part of The Program is
> a bit of a blur to me now. I'm probably missing significant detail
> of some event I should've been prepared to recount, but .. its just
> a big shape now.  A warm, glowing shape.  I distinctly remember
> having the thought that I had to remember that, one day, maybe I'll
> have the balls to get up on stage like Renee did and sing a medley to
> a loved one, his dear friend Gert.  That was truly sweet, of the
> hearty kind. But by this point, the music and the booze had delivered
> me into the arms of the muse, and muse I did.  I mused that, if I'd
> just walked in on this bar in the evening, as it were, and if it
> weren't by invitation, I'd nevertheless be impressed at what was
> going on, full-steam ahead, in front of me.  I'd probably buy a beer,
> and tune in to all the people who clearly know each other, seemingly
> pretty well.  And, as I know myself, I'd probably have observed that
> this was a full-blown celebration of the life of m usic.  That you
> can watch music change, over and again, and it'll never get boring.
> The thought that, simply, music grows.  That you can watch a
> musician, like a child, grow.  That the Dutch have no problems
> bringing their 14-year old kids to get up on stage at a bar full of
> drinking souls to demonstrate his new-found abilities at composition.
> Now *that* is some serious compassionful society.  Give everybody a
> big hug!, I'd be thinking.  Or, was thinking, while I watched Captain
> H-B, Mr. Z the man with the Star Whip, and Rolf, Light Master, do
> another round for a while.  And after a while, for quite a while
> longer.  Captain H-B had promised me, in that extraordinary way he
> has of being precisely in tune with everything, that .. if needed ..
> he'd play for a while .. a longer, more lulling set, perhaps, before
> we get the storms of passion unleashed upon us as the night matures.
>
> And also, that was before we were allowed to turn it up loud.
>
> Shortly, after we were allowed to turn it up loud, we let Romain and
> Tom do the honours.  After watching them set up and proceed to do
> what can only be described as one of the longest warmups of the
> evening (headphones), I was very eager to understand what I was
> about to witness.. they had a *lot* of gear, but it was absolutely,
> every singe bit of it, necessary.  When they kicked off the
> late-night set of beats, wicked melody, and serious prowess over
> every single cable, we realised we suddenly had a *lot* of genius to
> get through that evening .. and it was the good kind.  The kind you
> want to have on while you're trying to talk to someone nice, letting
> the music discuss politics so you don't have to, and can just look
> longingly into her .. well.  Yeah.  Sexy, intelligent, loud music.  A
> bit long, perhaps, but given the nature of the journey, the hill was
> given over - so to speak - to the skies.
>
> And then, speaking of sexy, but more like shouting it SEXY! from the
> top of a party bus loaded full of half-naked German tourists
> blitzkrieging through Rio De Janeiro on a Friday afternoon, we
> suddenly had what we'd been waiting for: PunkDISCO!  PUNKDISCO!
> Terrifyingly great - like, seriously terrific, great, and terrifying
> in a big juicy sandwich of love.  The clear love between the two of
> them was visible at The Very Moment Before The Storm, that one you
> always witness when you see so-called first-timers (as if!) get to
> the stage and stifle the jimmies with a glance, a smile, a smirk
> between them.  But in this case I'd observed what I personally think
> is Some Real Love, albeit through the cosmic distance between where
> I was standing, watching in awe, as they were about to just BEGIN
> their set, among the love was something .. some form of ..
> incestuousness? They knew something, these pearls of the vine, these
> gods of the stars.  Well, we soon all became enlightened, let me just
> te ll you, because PunkDISCO ROCKED THE HOUSE DOWN with their
> punishing loveliness.  The solid world opened and throughout poured
> electric passion.  Leah was punishing me with her lyrics, I'm quite
> sure of it, for loving every single particle of her being.  Yes, she
> seems to say .. you can look at my ass while I sing you a tale you
> should pay more attention to..  But I'm going to make you want it so
> much that you're going to wish you could love something else than my
> ass, my curves, for a while.  Something .. out there .. something
> lurking and sneaky that you probably didn't notice at first, while
> basking in glorious ass.  Something .. like: THE MUSIC ITSELF.  Oh
> God, the music, on its own, in a world without Leah .. it'd be
> enough, not quite .. but .. enough so .. Paul .. ah .. stop it you're
> going to make me .. ah .. yikes .. and so I'm passed over, used
> again, back and forth between these thugs, simply loving it.  The
> lyrics suddenly get me, and I just give in and get all the append
> ages shaken.  You simply can't get penetrated like that without just
> giving up and having the fun you're supposed to be having.  I'll
> admit, I may just give up music-making entirely and just content
> myself with a subscription to whatever PunkDISCO get up to, next.  We
> all need a Leah Soft-Synth, and bad.
>
> Well, anyway .. a last check on Gert: yes indeed, I think he's got a
> serious case of smittens too, so thats a good thing.  I think
> everyone has it, by now, a case of the smittens.
>
> Which is a good time to bring on the DJ - Geezer!  From .. Poland?
> Not sure, but the accent doesn't matter when the words are clear and
> the word, by this point, was writ large: party!  Not having ever
> met, but heard-of DJ Geezer, I was content knowing that the party we
> needed right about then was being served on platters by our
> worthiest chef.  But then, soon .. it was the end.  We made it.
> Along the way we fared quite well. At least, I felt a booty.  People
> danced, we talked, we marvelled at the light, we met new old friends,
> we met old, new friends, we talked about things we never talk about
> really, as the world turns, for once.  We celebrated Gert.
>
> Thank you, Gert, for bringing it all together!  It is a fond memory,
> not to be distant for quite a while I'm sure.
>
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