Meine Religion: Steppensee Nihilismus.
Ich & Lisa & Affiliates haben jetzt eine eigene, monatliche Clubnight im Bergwerk.
Oida, wer is da König? Das Bergwerk.
Hallo hallo.
Wir sind alle Grubenarbeiter.
Das gibts ja nicht ...
Vielleicht leg ich morgen auf. Vielleicht nicht. Ich weiss es nicht. Ich werd einfach meine CDs einpacken und mich zum Bergwerk aufmachen. Und dann werd ich mal den Christian fragen, ob ich auflegen soll.
Weil da Herr Andreas hat offenbar andere Dinge in Kopf oder Nase. Das AK.
vollbild:
http://i20.photobucket.com/albums/b217/daisybondage/tba-flyer.jpg
uhgh.
PS: Ich sollt vielleicht echt öfter mein Telefon verwenden. Wenn ich ausnahmsweise mal Leute aus heiterem Himmel anruf, dann reagieren sie so, als hätten sie keine Ahnung wer ich überhaupt bin. (GENAU aus diesem Grund mag ich das nicht.)
http://fun.noshit.pl/?r=2006&m=07&d=05&p=
D2 hat es auch gemacht ...
5 Frauen denen ich jederzeit ein Date gewähren würde:
5. Winona Ryder, actress
4. Sue Denim, singer/guitarist
3. Virginia Woolf, writer (ca. 1904)
2. Regina Spektor, singer/songwriter
1. Rebecca Robinson, journalist
*) Picassoausstellung in Wien: Man sollte immer, bevor man sich einem kulturellen Ereignis aussetzt, erzählt bekommen, dass es scheiße is. Dadurch ergibt sich dann oft ein wunderbares Vom-Gegenteil-Überrascht-Werden. Picasso ist einfach gut, und ich mag ihn egal was andere von ihm sagen. Es is eh wahr, dass mir die frühen Sachen, vor dem Kubismus besser gefallen, aber das Spätwerk ist auch gar nicht kubistisch. Es ist einfach nur genial. Und naja, das Bild der Frau, blablabla. Zeigt mir halt einen Künstler der nicht auf irgendeine Art pervers, misogyn, oder sonst sowas war. Das und die Kreativität geht einfach Hand in Hand.
*) Nächsten Samstag sollt ich eigentlich im Bergwerk in Neusiedl am See auflegen. Aber mir sind verwirrende Neuigkeiten zu Ohr, oder besser zu Aug gekommen, die Komplikationen bezüglich dieses Datums annehmen lassen. Ich hoff wirklich dass das nicht passiert, weil dann schrei' ich. Und ausserdem hab ich schon die halbe Welt eingeladen. :(
*) Schon am 12. Jänner gehts zurück nach England. Dann werd ich 2 Tage ganz allein in London verbringen und mir so gut wie möglich die Form der kulturellen Überdosis verpassen, die ich gemeinsam mit meinen Freunden nur selten erleben kann. Sprich, ich werd diverse Gallerien/Museen besichtigen und die Lücken damit füllen, überlang in Kaffeehäusern zu sitzen und Penguin Classics zu lesen.
*) Mein neues ich ist vielleicht mutiger. Immerhin hab ich offenbar am Silvestertag eine gewisse Scheißdrauf-Qualität im hintersten Winkel meiner Persönlichkeit entdeckt, bzw. hab sie spontan entwickelt. Ich hoffe, dass sie mir bleibt & wächst.
-_-
liebe Grüße,
Dani
What a lark, what a plunge. What a night!
I had completely forgotten that I could feel like this. This sense of total exhilaration, this excitement that comes from mixing reality and dreams. I love being a fan, it's simply something I'm really really good at. And this night in terms of fan-fulfillment developed exponentially.
I'm finding it hard to remember the minor incidents of the evening, but I think it started with Julia, Babsi and me going to Oxford street for shopping and sthg to eat and then we headed for London Street, where we eventually, after some map consulting, located SE1 club.
We got in and checked out the scenesters. There were many present.
Saw some bands, but I don't really remember. One I think was called My Bloody Red Shoes or so. Eddie Argos fought to stand next to us, and we generously permitted it. Then we saw The Blood Arm – who were fun –, and being in the left corner front row, I was soon approached by Andrew Kendall, who, in real life, quite gives me weak knees. He smells nice, too. A manly smell of cherries and vintage shops. Aw, AK. I think his girlfriend noticed my unabashed staring.
Next were Pink Grease, and Julia and me flirted shamelessly with Jarvis's cousin. It is obvious that he has Jarvis genes. Hence the sex appeal. Also he plays synth with TOOTHBRUSHES. Gotta love him.
Then, minor heart attack ensues, Sue Denim and Dee Plume came out to watch a bit of Pink Grease and laugh at them, and Sue was standing right next to me … I could've touched her. It was lovely. I squealed inside and out.
Roland Shanks – le blahest band ever. No one attended. We just waited patiently and boredly in the front row for it to end and the Robots to come up.
Robots In Disguise, the band that I, in the last 2 months, have come to love like some of my own, more attractive limbs. The band that makes my heart flutter even though it's all girls. They have a huge transport bag with a boosh monkey face on it. I loved it.
They were brilliant, though the sound wasn't particularly good. But I was so full of adrenaline that I didn't mind a bit. And imagine me when from the backstage door there emerged a familiar face under even more familiar hair, and all that under a cowboy hat! ?!!? I thought I was gonna faint. There was also Courtney Love and a 7 foot tall wardrobe shaped bodyguard, but, phew! It was just annoying cos he kept blocking my view at Noel (for it was he!) No but anyway, let's concentrate on Robots. They're lovely. Sue jumped into the pit during Girl, and let me sing into her microphone. Love, fucking love!
I've never had my mind blown by a series of events quite like this. (Not since the Graham days, at least.)
After RID we had to find out that we'd somehow managed to miss both Art Brut and The Young Knives, which was kinda annoying, but not disastrous. We spent the rest of the night sitting on the floor watching people flit around … I approve of Noel's girlfriend she's cool, she wore sandals & socks and she has beautiful legs. He does cause miniature nervous breakdowns in me though everytime I see him (I don't like this, but can I help it? I was fucking starstruck!) Last thing I saw of him was his hips from behind, swaggering out of sight. I'll never look at red drainpipes in quite the same way.
We danced from 5 to 6 straight, to awful/fun music, and then went to Shoreditch to lose our way and later have glorious breakfast at some café.
I loved every minute of it.
The Review of a Memorable Day
Hello World. First thing:
Everybody should go and see the Holloways. By that I mean, go and see the Holloways. Playing live. On a stage. It'll do you good.
Yesterday was genius. It reminded me totally of why I'm here, and why I always wanted it, and why England can be shit and wonderful at the same time, and why even English shit is strangely wonderful and so on. Sit with me for a while, while I tell you about the day.
Going to see the Holloways yesterday was a very spontaneous decision. I just said to Julia, do you feel like going to a gig tonight? And she's like, Hell yeah, let's get out of here. (As much as I like our mini-universe here on campus, at times you just HAVE to escape into the real world.) So we took the train to London and went to HMV on Oxford street.
We were a million hours early cos times on myspace calendars does not have anything to do with time in the real world, but that's not really a problem. I bought a couple of singles singles (Both 7" versions of Generator, *rollseyes*, and Tristan on CD, and the Mystery Jets EP).
When I'd managed to drag Julia out of the video section, we went for a coffee and a smoke in Nero, and perused the NME and some free paper with loads of shit in it. At about 5 we headed back to HMV, but got sidetracked when we tried to pass H&M. Didn't buy anything, but it's just a matter of time. I need loads of what they have!
When we got back to NME, the front row was already occupied, but it was a weird kind of crowd anyway, because it was separated into queue-like heaps by cd racks. Didn't keep the kids from crowdsurfing, LOL. There were so many young'uns there, it was like B72 all over! :) But the gig was goood gooood goooood and we got free posters and badges and got our vinyl signed. Wahey!
This lovely experience was followed by a tube journey to - gasp - Holloway Road where we found ourselves facing the longest road in the history of roads, and no house number. :( When in doubt, we eat, so we went to McDonalds, and after that to an internet cafe to find out the adress of the Nambucca. Took a bus there and went in, and it was good! So good!! This place is the ideal place for any band to play, I tell you. And, I'm almost scared to say, I still feel "at home" among the London scenesters. Weird. It still seems that they have superior knowledge of music, style and life in general, and that's why I can't help being in awe a bit.
Anyway - the gig was fantastic! Bouncy Larrikin Love-like ska-ish beats and riffs-bassline-correspondance to make your heart turn into butterflies and melodies. And they have a fiddle, need I say more? Appearance kinda scruffy, but loveable, and the guitarist/fiddler had shiny red shoes. Good feelings all over the place, and the singer has this kind of Fran-Healy-like charm, but that might just be because of the hat he wore.
Like often, though, I had the feeling that all the other songs were better than the single.
Anyway. Holloways. Good. That's my opinion.
When the gig was over, there was no chance we could still catch the last train, so we happily settled to spend the night in London. We didn't really wanna stay in the suddenly nu-rave-infested Nambucca though, so we took the next bus south. We came down well from the darkened heights, but went to far into the east, and walked for 2 hours along the north bank of the Thames (which was absolutely beautiful, and really interesting. This is the way sightseeing should always be done. With no one else around, and this peaceful feeling of solitude, and without the fear of seeming too touristy when one takes a photo). We then got some more McFood off Trafalgar Square and sat in the McShelter for 2 hours (witnessing an infuriating display of blatant unabashed homophobia on the part of a security person ... grrrr.) Then we walked over the river to Waterloo Station and took the first train home.
Days like this are needed to keep on the right path. They remind me of why I do some things, and why I care for some things, and why some things are special. In a way this night opened my eyes which had been screwed shut in the face of too many hairs in the showers and a lack of real socialising at uni. Maybe it's the other way round, and it lulled me back to sleep and dream - in any case, it feels better. I know again why I love England - or rather why I have this special relationship with England. I'll tell a selected number of people if they care to know, but I won't rub it in everyone's face here.
Here is the ending of this blog and as much as I can put to words right now. But there's so many more ideas bubbling under the surface.
