Gig Report

[Romain / rXg]

Waow, very well resumed  :)



On Mon, Oct 7, 2013 at 12:40 PM, Jay Vaughan <seclorum at mac.com> 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.
>
> j.
> _______________________________________________
> music-bar mailing list
> music-bar at lists.music-bar.org
> http://lists.music-bar.org/cgi-bin/mailman/listinfo/music-bar
>



-- 
Romain
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://lists.music-bar.org/pipermail/music-bar/attachments/20131008/68302d94/attachment-0001.html>