It seems that I am to spend this week paying for my weekend of fun, after the disco sniffles well and truly set in throughout the night and are currently doing their best to convince me that next time I ought to stay at home. But I won't let those germy bastards grind me down, so in the name of lifting my spirits and reminding me that it really was all worth it, here is a quick re-cap of this weekend's whistlestop tour of Germany's twin-cities of techno, Cologne and Berlin.
I left James to take care of the Cocoon mega-rave at Madrid's Macumba all on his lonesome, and met up with him on Saturday afternoon in Dusseldorf airport for the drive to Cologne. It turns out that the party wasn't actually at Gewolbeas previously reported, as the venue had sadly lost its license earlier in the week, so promoter Tobias suddenly faced the task of finding a new venue by the weekend: the Tresor-esque basement of last minute substitution the Altes Gaswerk (a disused-apart-from-the-odd-party gas facility) certainly didn't disappoint!
Cologne is of course the home of the Kompakt musical empire, and ambassadors Jon and Christian were naturally dispatched to take their place amongst the clued-up crowd (and to keep me company while James played). Cologne is also famous for its Christmas Markets, the likes of which the UK just can't get enough of this year: London's Southbank Centre will be hosting an authentic Cologne example up until December 23rd (presumably leaving the stallholders free to celebrate Christmas as they normally would in Germany - on December 24th). Our Christmas Market mania has indeed been noted by the German media, Tobias informed me, with stallholders confessing that they can make more money by relocating their Christmas Market concept to a UK hungry for a sniff of someone else's Christmas tradition than they otherwise would from taking up their normal pitch in Germany. The news report also apparently contained the revelation that an English woman can drink as much as a German man at one of these festive market benders, so I did my best not to let the side down: but fairly early on in proceedings I saw Tobias drinking vodka straight from the bottle like it was water, and I was forced to admit defeat - this particular English woman can't quite drink as much as that German man!
Bananas somehow ended up being the theme of the weekend: the above specimen was photographed at the party in Cologne, and then when we arrived at the decidedly messy Panorama Bar in Berlin the next afternoon, our clarinet-playing (but not yet shirtless) friend Andreas who had been at the club for a lot longer than us was topping up his energy levels with a banana, which he then proceeded to wear on his head as a hat (I would have taken another photo for you, but cameras are famously banned from Berghain). Then later on at the bar Rory (a promoter from Galway who somehow made himself a regular at The End, and this time had popped up in Berlin) tried to tell me about some sort of anti-banana website, but I am afraid the precise details have rather slipped my mind since then...
Coming straight into a party that had already been going on since midnight on Saturday, initially we were in rather a different place to most of the people there. But the infectious sweaty atmosphere, a few drinks, and the fact that you couldn't tell what time it was outside anyway soon had us back in the mood. James' set went off on a slightly different tack to Radio Slave before him, but the crowd seemed to be pretty accepting nonetheless: although with hindsight John Maus' 'My Whole World's Coming Apart' may have been a little too bang on the money for that hour. The music apparently continued until 2am, setting a new Berghain record (excluding their New Year extravaganzas), but left with pretty much only the truly strung-out for company, starving hungry, and desparate to escape the all-pervasive disco dirt, I am afraid we couldn't hold out for much more than a couple of hours after James' set had finished.
Probably for the best, given how I am feeling today. Lets just hope that these cold symptoms have eased off a little in time for tomorrow's Fondue Fun-Do Two Christmas party extravaganza - the advance tickets may have gone, but there will be more available on the door on the night, so I hope to see you down there early doors!
The famous colouring competition we launched a few years ago proved to be massively popular: entries continue to trickle in to this day, although lately we haven't been able to find a good excuse to use any of them so I suspect it may finally have run its course. So I have good reason to believe that there are plenty of colouring competition fans round here; Google Analytics also leads me to believe that there are a decent number of Norris Cole-esque colouring competition fans out there in the wider world web too, who occasionally happen upon this site whilst trawling the internet looking for new colouring competitions to enter.
Whichever particular category you fall into, our favourite papercutter Pinky (who you may remember provided the rainbow bright artwork for Fairmont's Coloured In Memory album) has just the thing for you: the Colour Me Bad! activity kit, containing a giant A1 size poster to colour in (thereby entering Pinky's own take on the colouring competition) and a bonus selection of ever-popular badges and stickers, all for just £15 (£20 including special delivery in time for Christmas).
I am sorely tempted: the poster design is in a similar vein to Pinky's new line in watercolours that were recently unveiled at his afore-mentioned current show at Cup in Manchester, which I have been eyeing up covetously for our hallway ever since. Some custom-colouring to match our decor could be the way forward:
And if the colouring-in kit doesn't solve some of your Christmas present dilemmas, then maybe Pinky's latest hand-painted psychedelic owl soft sculptures will do the trick instead? Right up Mr Luke Abbott's street, I would have thought. Although since I know he is such a dedicated reader of this blog, that would have rather given the game away if Santa was actually planning to bring him one this Christmas. James has a theory that a swift blow to the head can ensure the temporary memory loss necessary to cancel out any surprise-spoiling premature Christmas present sightings - but I wouldn't try that one at home, kids!
Finally, the truly dedicated colourer will also want to pick up one of our painting-by-numbers t-shirts or bags from our online store to complete the set, which await your own unique colourful twist using fabric, paints or whatever else your imagination dictates. One day I might even finally get round to adding some handy customisation kits to the shop, which I have been dutifully assembling like a sewing squirrel hoarding vintage fabrics and accessories to tide me through the winter. But if you have already managed to give your t-shirt or bag the personal hand-crafted touch without my help, we would dearly love to see a photo of the results!
Living club legend Berghain (and its Panorama Bar annexe) will be four years young this Saturday 13th December, and in true Berlin style they have assembled quite a line-up for the occasion to see them through a 24 hour long celebratory clubbing marathon. Octave One and Kevin Saunderson bring a taste of Detroit to the cavernous Berghain hall, whilst Jesse Rose, Claude Von Stroke, Tristan Da Cunha & Adam Shelton, Cassy and Radio Slave provide the contrasting soundtrack upstairs in the Panorama Bar, as night gives way to morning, and then morning gives way to afternoon...
We'll be making our own fashionably late arrival to the party sometime on Sunday afternoon, in good time for Mr Holden's 6pm appointment. Before that James will have already completed his Saturday night engagement at Gewolbe in Cologne, then snatched what sleep he can in a hotel, before dashing to the airport for a lunchtime flight: but this being Berlin, there could well be members of the crowd who have remained in the Berghain complex during that whole time. Other Holden fans may want to ensure they get a good nights sleep in preparation for their Sunday afternoon outing, but it is always a strange experience turning up sober and straight-faced to the full-on messiness of a party that has already been in swing all through the night. The transition from your bed straight to the club is the biggest shock to the system: at least our flight from Cologne will give us time to wake up and ease ourselves slowly back into the party mood.
What the Berghain website rather aptly describes as "der vielschichtige Fantasiesound von James Holden" (James' multi-layered fantasy-sound) will I imagine feel entirely appropriate for the hour, and James is looking forward to the chance to play around in the libertarian environment of the Panorama Bar. Previous appearances there assigned him to the mans music domain of the Berghain floor, where shirts-off techno is very much order of the day, but the time and location of this particular session ought to lend themselves very well to a spot of that blueprint-warping techno that our boy Holden does so well.
The terrifying clown collage of the club's December flyer meanwhile is probably better viewed before, rather than after, your 24 hour Berghain birthday bender:
berlin's cool. but no tickets for the fondue gig, which is a pity. i wonder, whether the security guys will be really against us getting through without any tickets...
"it is always a strange experience turning up sober and straight-faced to the full-on messiness of a party that has already been in swing all through the night"
right on the point, gemma.
however, absolutely loved james' set in berlin (the sunday evening feeling probably only added to the fun). did sound pretty experimental to me, even at his standards. some brave musical choices but perfectly fused together. well done, well done.
natasha - we only had a limited number for advance sale this time, the rest are going to be available on the door. so as long as you get down there early, you should be able to get in!
benne - i heard someone say you were there, but we didn't spot you ourselves! (unless we accidentally blanked you?!).
Just a quick heads-up for any dedicated readers who have subscribed to the feed from this blog (but have yet to subscribe to the news feed from our front page) that a limited number of tickets have just gone on sale for the second edition of our legendary Fondue Fun-Do parties - imaginatively named 'The Fondue Fun-Do Two' - to be held on Wednesday 17th December at the St Moritz Basement, 161 Wardour Street, London from 10pm to late.
We'll be simultaneously celebrating the occasion of our Christmas Party and the birthday of the lovely Steve from Allez-Allez (with whom we are collaborating once again to bring you another cheese-music fusion): the perfect excuse to wheel out the cheese. On this re-run, our own James Holden and the Allez-Allez boys will again be providing the uncheesy music, while a complimentary cheesy fondue buffet will be served in the in the dedicated fondue room next door. Make sure you join us by securing your £6 ticket from WeGotTickets right now, or else get yourself down to the venue early on the evening to grab one of the remaining £7 tickets available on the door.
oh fiddlesticks, seeing as it's going to be on a school night this could prove tricky to attend this time around, i enjoyed our cheesy dipping and dancing so much last time as well...Meh!
There was one destination on Fairmont's tour itinerary this month that particularly caught my eye: the BrainTicket night at Caleido Club in Bologna, Italy, this Saturday 13th December - mainly because BrainTicket seems like a rather excellent name for a club night to me:
The psytastic artwork, slap bass and posh-bird-on-acid vocals on the eponymous 'Brainticket' trilogy made the album an instant (but possibly dangerous) in-car hit for us, and the reasons why you ought to also add it to your collection are perhaps best illustrated through the instructions contained in the liner notes:
"Listen to the first recording of this LSD / Hashish / Fixy / Jointy Sound. Take a trip into your inner light. See the hallucinations of reality rise out of the groove. You've got your Brainticket now! Hallelujah.
Advice: After listening to this record, your friends won't know you anymore.
Warning: Only listen once a day to this record. Your brain may be destroyed. Hallelujah records takes no responsibility."
But after some further digging (well, I asked the promoters!) it turns out that the clubnight's name was actually a loan from an early nineties techno track from Germany by Ramin, which in a twinkly melodic sense (if not in tempo) does perhaps strangely also have a touch of the Fairmont about it (listen for yourself on Last.fm).
So I do hope that Jake has a better time in Italy next weekend than James did this weekend just gone by, namely in Bari, where he ended up accidentally eating a mouthful of ham after the promoter told him a dish he had just tried was vegetarian (when it blatantly wasn't!), and then nearly missed the flight on the way home after the driver turned up too late. James' last visit to Bari (along with Nathan) also resulted in a missed flight thanks to a driver no-show following a highly-inappropriate club booking, so I don't think he will be in any rush to head back there ever again! But if the BrainTicket website's handy hints on enjoying the party (which to me sound more Japanese in spirit than Italian!) are anything to go by, then the Bologna-based BrainTicket crew appear to be a conscientious set of promoters very concerned with ensuring a good time for all, as the following excerpt would suggest:
"Thank you for... Not Driving No Matter What!
Ok, not a single teetotal friend of yours, and you digged hard into that rhumy things. Take a taxi, or wait for the bus!
I was tripping on someone's blog radio playlist and heard the following tune:
'Junior Senior - Headphone song'.
Not an all together mind blowing song to hear when you are sober, but after taking some bud to the head and listening to this fucker for the first time on some bose headphones, you will momentarily do the fucking hoky poky in a parallel universe.
I guess there is a story to the song too, something about escaping in music or some shit.
The link to this interview with DJ hero DJ Koze is currently doing the rounds on email, so I thought it might be nice to also share it with you here for some weekend reading for anyone else who doesn't trawl the pages of Resident Advisor as a matter of course.
James and I first ran into Kosi one snowbound winter evening in Montreal where the two were booked to play together at La Nuit Electronik, and we were most happy to find that he is very much on our wavelength, both musically and personally, as well being quite possibly the funniest living German. Actually, we were already pretty confident that we would get on after hearing the tales from the legendary Taico Club festival in Japan, when DJ Koze met Nathan Fake and his travelling visualist and partner in all crimes Vincent Oliver, and ended up inviting his exhibitionist new best friend Vincent onstage with him for a spontaneous outburst of breakdancing. I have been assured that the visual evidence of this bizarre occurrence lurks somewhere on Youtube, although I have yet to unearth it myself.
So it is no surprise that Kosi's disgruntlement at the formula-based conservatism in dance music is a textual echo of sentiments expressed around these parts on an almost daily basis. James and Kosi once even concocted their own card-based solution to that age old plague of the harder-faster brigade, whereupon it would be politely explained that persons requesting that they up their tempo might be better off going to see another DJ play that evening. But it was this quote in particular which caught James' attention:
"I think it is fairly easy to rock the house, but so hard to look out of the window."
Indeed, we have pondered this conundrum together on many an occasion, like at last night's Poni Hoax gig at the Hoxton Square Bar & Kitchen (and in particular during the god-awful between-bands-DJ's indie-dance set), where the dark gothy new romanticism that we really love (as heard on the perfect The Paper Bride) was largely overshadowed by their more brash punk funk tendencies. Sure, the ramshackle mixed-up crowd were doing their best Dad-at-a-wedding dancing impressions throughout, but I think musicians of all genres would be wise not to interpret the immediacy of a crowd's reaction to their most lowest common denominator surefire crowd-pleasing elements as a sign that those songs are the "best" ones. James has previously talked about how easy it is to prompt this type of reaction in a crowd, and we are glad to see that DJ Koze agrees that there ought to be a bit more to the art of DJing than this. To focus your efforts on extracting those overt signs of "pleasure" from the crowd is not only a cheap route to personal gratification, it also inevitably encourages a DJ to select from only the most conservative palette of music, and dance music is in serious danger of stagnating in an infinite loop unless more DJs learn to forgo the instant thrill of a whoop from elements of the crowd in favour of taking some musical risks with what, and how, they play.
And for once Resident Advisor's comments section may give us cause for hope, where the universal message is one of promising proclamations of DJ Koze's legendary status, but I do hope that means that the world really is paying attention to his rallying call against the current conservative malaise that blights techno. Those fortunate fellows over at Resident Advisor have also managed to bag DJ Koze for their Christmas Party on 20th December alongside equally fun-loving mobile simians Modeselektor, Lawrence, Move D, doP and Trus'me, and I would promise to see you there, but a) it is at Matter, and b) I have just been invited to a rather unmissable sounding intimate evening of living-room-based audio experimentation across town on the same night. But be sure not to let that stop you popping along if you fancy it!
So over a week has passed since that fateful End night, and cameraman Dan has now got his photos back from the processing lab, so I have dutifully trawled through all four films worth to put together the following alternative impressionistic photo-reportage-meets-witty-repartee. See if you can spot yourself amongst the photo motherload by viewing the full gallery here.
The technologically-minded Dan has a bit of a laser fixation, and the combination of brightly flashing club lighting and the lomo's colourific unpredictability produces some magical effects, which I think rather successfully capture the psychedelic feel of the evening:
Regular warm-up boy Avus completed his full attendance record at every Border Community night last Saturday, even if he only took on official residency duties from party number two - an honour which the long-time End regular and tech-house disciple has described as "a dream come true". Over the course of our residency he has really made the warm-up slot his own, and as the pictures show on Saturday night he looked right at home in that DJ booth of dreams:
Another nice shot of Scott (Avus), this time pictured with our old office boy Vincent Oliver and the lovely Rosana, who I think along with only myself, Kat, and our three DJ stalwarts ought to earn some kind of award for 100% attendance. (But if you do know anyone else who can match us, please do speak up in the comments!).
That DJ booth slap bang in the centre of the dancefloor has a handy rail running around the edge, which members of the crowd can conveniently hold onto to prevent themselves being literally bowled over by the musical onslaught. Either it was a tech-house thrashing from Avus that caused them to cling on, or there were a number of hamsters who made it into the club last Saturday to watch their rodent king James Holden. Or perhaps they were just common or garden trainspotters, and I have an over-active imagination:
I think this photo provides a nice illustration of that famed intimacy between crowd and DJ provided by the End's low-slung DJ booth, and it is also about as close as James will ever get to crowdsurfing:
James was happy not to have to take on the graveyard shift this time, playing rather early in the evening for him and cutting a rather dashing figure with his new fringe-heavy haircut:
This fellow was next up: I am sure you can guess who this is - I would recognise that curly hair anywhere!
Comrade Fake and his elbows of doom did his best to elude Dan's photographic efforts, fitting so fast that the camera could barely keep up with him:
But Dan's intrepid efforts paid off, as he managed to capture the electronic sorcerer's other-worldly incantations in full swing, blowing the cover on Fake's pact with the devil once and for all:
And here are the results of Nathan's Ableton-alchemy, as Dan also caught on camera the moment that the mainroom dancefloor transformed into one big writhing sea of curly hair, as the entire crowd spontaneously sprouted a Fake-do in tribute to their techno tormenter:
Finally, the Kieran Hebden, James Holden and Avus threeway that filled the last two hours is already the stuff of legend round these parts. Indeed, we are coming to believe that Scott may actually have also dabbled in the dark arts to a greater degree than we previously realised, after Dan captured him hovering as a translucent ghostly presence between Hebden and Holden:
But I can assure you that Avus did indeed participate in a physical as well as spiritual sense in this fitting conclusion to our two year run, which saw our own holy trinity's exemplary and often conveniently overlapping taste meld together in a dreamlike fashion. James meanwhile was left scampering frantically between Scott and Kieran, demanding that they tell him the key of each record that they played at this most unlikely hour for that sort of thing.
did the photographer have epilepsy? no idiot club photos should be blurry. it adds the effect of bass vibrating your futile carbon existence and movement because dance music is all about moving. and drugs.
A "graveyard shift" is when you have to work late, when most other people are in bed. So in club terms that would be the last set of the night / early morning, when only the hardcore remain...
I'm not really sure of the correct derivation, but for example there was a famous late night radio show I used to listen to when I was younger, and they would constantly refer to their slot as the graveyard shift, joking that noone would be listening because they were on so late.
As we attempt to get back into the swing of things this Monday afternoon (it appears that we were a little too successful at turning ourselves nocturnal in preparation for our big Saturday night!), the finality of it all suddenly begins to hit home. The thing about going out with a party as great as last Saturday at The End is that the amazing feelgood atmosphere of the evening obscures the underlying sense of loss, and it is only in the freezing cold light of a snowy Sunday morning that reality sadly sinks in. (Thank goodness for Ringo Pizza's handy dial-a-munch hot food, milk and fags service is all I can say!).
A million thanks to everyone who came down on the evening, and full marks for bravery and dedication for waiting in the sub-zero temparatures to get in - we really felt for you! I do hope that the entertainment once inside made up for it: Avus revelled in the chance to play an unfettered anything-goes warm-up before longtime musical co-conspirator James, who also seized the early doors opportunity to play one of his best End sets yet. Nathan Fake had everyone reaching for the earplugs as he once again managed to somehow push The End's legendary soundsystem seemingly louder than anyone else ever has done before, with the guest we always wanted Ellen Allien then doing us proud by proving that she is every bit woman enough to follow Fake's tough act.
Kieran Hebden's lounge room meanwhile was quite literally jumping all night - even Binary Finary got a great reception this time round! - and the eight hour marathon seemed to fly by. So when he finally shut-up shop and popped over to the main room for some closing session frolics with fellow regulars James and Avus, Kieran still had plenty more to give, trooper that he is. Sinatra's 'My Way' was the rank outsider that crept up to snatch James Holden's last tune title, an emotional moment which was captured for posterity in this video that Kieran found on Youtube this morning:
So all that remains now is a long list of thankyous: thanks to Ajay, Gideon, Liam, Roz, Ryan, Alice, Helios and everyone else involved with The End, whose untiring professionality provided the perfect foundations for a series of great nights. And thanks of course to our eclectic and sometimes eccentric crowd, the fanatics who travel hundreds of miles and everyone who has ever come along to one of our parties alike: your collective lovely natures ensured that our nights had an atmosphere like no other, and for that we salute you. And if withdrawal symptoms are already beginning to kick in, fear not, for we are currently hatching plans for plenty more London-based Border Community action next year: see you on the other side!
Finally, without wishing to prolong the agony, or to be accused of milking it, I will no doubt be returning to this subject later in the week, this time with pictures: the photos taken by The End's own camera-lady should hit their site sometime soon, whilst our own intrepid human tripod Dan Tombs (aka Luke Abbott's oftentimes visual partner-in-crime) also brought along his collection of ex-Soviet Lomo photo-machines to create his own alternative impressionistic laser-heavy photo reportage, which should be with us just as soon as he gets the films developed. How delightfully old school.
What a fantastic night!I came to London from Italy for the weekend...it was my first (and sadly last) time to The End Club and I immediatly fell in love with it...great night...great atmosphere and great performances by all the guys!thank you so much!
been to 3 of the 4 bc gigs at the end this year, this one being the best, both musically & professionally organized. however, didn't like ellen's stuff that much, as her predictable, a bit too mechanical & 'look! i'm so-phisticated' set was a huge contrast to the atmosphere of musical & emotional freedom, typical for bc parties. anyway, james & nathan did a great job, many thanx, it was no doubt worth coming all the way from where we came, for one night only.
As i had always expected, the night delivered everything and more that was required of a first class party. amazing dj's, amazing music and amazing atmosphere. The End has being my favourite UK club for many years now and to have the BC guys hold a residency there for the past 2 years has been nothing but a blessing from the musical gods. Always pushing the bar higher within themselves and for the listeners and clubbers that attend. All I can say now is that i'm truly gutted to see the close of what was had become the highlight in my clubbing diary from very start, so much so that ive only ever missed 2 BC events....one through illness and the other due to being in Germany at the time.
WHAT THE HELL DO I HAVE TO LOOK FORWARD TO NOW? NO OTHER PROMOTER AND VENUE COMBO CAN COME ANY WHERE NEAR !!!! :'0(
Roll on the next chapter in the BC tales and tribulations.
Calvin.
p.s. James, found a picture of a rather tasty Dyson airblade the other day.....remember our rather indepth conversation regarding the splendour of these wonderful contaptions at The Social a few months back..haha
I am so glad that i get to hear the BC posse on New Years Eve at De Melkweg! Great way to kick off the new year! Have a good one, and all the best, Jonathan.
I am glad every club in Britain is closing. maybe we'll see some fucking action around the mother ship for once or a fucking residency in Seattle like there should be.
As judgement day approaches (i.e. the night of our last Border Community party at The End), I thought the readers of this blog might appreciate some set times for the fateful disco happening of this Saturday night, to make sure that you don't miss any of your favourites. Of course, the truly dedicated will ensure they don't miss a second of this final End fix by getting themselves into the queue before the doors even open (a highly advisable tactic given the numbers predicted to descend on us tomorrow night).
Kieran Hebden will of course be handling the lounge all night for the last time, before popping over to the main room for a bit of back to back action with his compadre James to bring the night to a fitting close - providing he still has the energy, that is! He won't be exactly fresh coming into this all-nighter, having already played last night in London and tonight in Manchester along with living legend Steve Reid in an electricity-and-drums rock-out to celebrate the release of their new NYC recording, but something tells me that the dynamo-like Kieran will nonetheless still be up for a spot of last ditch after-hours action. (Any Mancs planning on heading down to the highly recommended hedonistic showdown between Hebden & Reid this evening meanwhile might be pleased to learn that they also get the bonus offering of a Nathan Fake freakout thrown in for good measure - result!).
Bets are still on as to what James' final record will be (take a punt yourself in the comments, should you feel that way inclined). But I think I can say for sure that it probably won't be Binary Finary, given the way it went down when Kieran played it last time in the lounge (as he revealed in his recent interview on The End website). I must admit that I missed that particular selection during Kieran's last set, but I didn't realise that our crowd were quite so po-faced! But if the tongue-in-cheek guilty pleasure of Binary Finary's 1998 really is too much for you, might I suggest that you try the similarly anthemic chord progressions of Caribou's 'Niobe' (found on his Andorra album) on for size instead?
Last track played (in full) was Fairmont's 'Flight Of The Albatross, but then he started to mix in something else and pulled it out. What was it? Nice touch with the Ole' Blue Eyes at the very end. Super night had by all. Ellen was Fantastic. Thanks folks for such a memorable night.
If Lisbon's Lux club seemed to get rather short shrift in my preview of the James Holdenthree-night-run of a couple of weekends ago, that is probably because I have yet to visit the club myself, so I truly didn't have much to tell you. And although I didn't actually go along this time either, a number of reports have come in since James' return that suggest that Lux is also a world-class modern techno club that deserves much more than a passing mention on here, so here follows my attempt to rectify my previous oversight...
The first noteworthy item must surely be the fact that the club is co-owned by none other than Hollywood superstar John Malkovich, as previous Lux-guest Nathan Fake informed me over dinner at the beginning of last week. That almost seems too bizarre to be true (and yet still it had somehow managed to slip James' mind!), but Lonely Planet assures me it is indeed so.
T-Mobile may have managed to cock up turning on the European-wide roaming on James' beloved new Google Phone in time for his trip to Lisbon, but thankfully that didn't stop the camera feature from working, which enabled him to capture this suitably surreal recent addition to the Malkovich-club to show to us folks back home - a pair of giant spread legs which surround the club's front-door-vagina:
This Google-Phone-facilitated rejoining of the cameraphoned masses after a couple of camera-less Nokia calculator-phone years means that we can finally expect plenty more of these sort of endearingly-crappy photos of cheese, rodents and other worldwide curiosities encountered on James' DJ-travels to be added to the collection of ever-changing backgrounds over on that website of his forthwith. And about time too.
Meanwhile, our virtual tour of Lux continues care of Portuguese fanboy Marco, who offered me a glimpse inside with his own photo reportage showing the club's smashing flashing wall of LEDs in full glorious technicolour (as well as a video showing the scrolling windmill scene you see below rendered in LED form which sadly wasn't quite good enough quality to post here):
And the surreal atmosphere of the exterior continues once inside, James tells me, where a particularly bizarre manifestation of Europe's new legislation against smoking in public places sees one half of the dancefloor branded as a non-smoking area, whilst the other half are permitted to light up at will. I am sure there is a whole article there to be written on the different ways in which the various European nations have chosen to interpret and implement the recently-introduced laws against smoking in public - as well as how successful those different attempts have been - but I think we should probably save that for another day when I am feeling less hungry...
The new entrance way to Lux is too rude for Myspace it seems! I uploaded the same photo there but it got deleted. 13 year olds aren't allowed to look at this sort of thing, apparently.
I certainly am. And I am also ever so slightly buzzing after my internet detective work unearthed a list of forthcoming European dates from LA's wonderful Lucky Dragons, including the obligatory London appearance at The Luminaire on January 26th 2009 (although the news has yet to hit the Luminaire website, tickets are already on sale so I am not totally mad to be planning my life so far in advance). I was also lucky enough to make it along to Lucky Dragons' last London show, but it being a weekend, almost everyone else that I know would have loved it was out of town: thankfully this new show falls on a Monday, so this time I won't be accepting any excuses whatsoever from Mr Holden, Mr Abbott, Mr Fake, Mr Oliver or Mr Linares...
That afore-mentioned previous London show also took place at the Luminaire, where audience and band roles began to blur as statuesque Dragons Luke and Sarah set up their array of custom-machines, rocks and wool-clad sensor-cables in the middle of the Luminaire's floor, gently encouraging the participation of the surrounding seated viewers by handing them a rock, cable or touching hands to morph the sound as appropriate, whilst the remainder of the audience were permitted to pile onto the stage for a better view. Actually, I am not sure that any word-based description can ever do justice to the amazing interactive nature of their performance, but luckily the dedicated Upset The Rhythm crew have uploaded a couple of grainy videos from the show to their Youtube channel to give you more of an idea of this rock-based sound modulation:
The Lucky Dragons could also give our own Nathan Fake quite a run for his money in the live-show-fitting stakes, it seems:
My tip-off on Lucky Dragons' European manoeuvres originally came from a plug for Berlin's upcoming Clubtransmediale festival in January 2009, where amongst an impressive 10th anniversary line-up that includes Anja Schneider, Benga, Black Devil Disco Club, Daniel Bell, Dirty Soundsystem, Fuck Buttons, Lindstrom, Mathias Kaden, Mika Vainio, Pan Sonic, Peverelist, Pilooski, Pole, Prins Thomas, Skream, The Emperor Machine and Zombie Zombie, I noted the Dragons' presence. That then led me to the website of booking agents Paper & Iron, and a complete list of European dates so far as follows (with more dates still to be confirmed, so don't give up hope on them dropping by your hometown just yet):
25th January: The Joy Gallery @ Redspace, Dublin, Ireland 26th January: Luminaire, London, UK 27th January: KSET, Zagreb, Croatia 29th January: Maria @ Club Transmediale, Berlin, Germany 30th January: Recycleart, Brussels, Belgium 2nd February: Grrrnd Zero, Lyon, France 3rd February: LJUD @ Musikcafeen, Aarhus, Denmark 4th February: Semifinal, Helsinki, Finland
As you can probably tell, I am quite the fangirl, and as such the Lucky Dragons' drawing-based side-project Sumi Ink Club inevitably also gets my vote of approval, not least for their guest t-shirt design for Upset The Rhythm (available now from the Upset The Rhythm online shop), which I also picked up along with the Dragons' back catalogue at that legendary London show:
The is the most amazing thing i have ever seen. So beautiful yet so raw and gritty and *live*.. beautiful overdrived harmonics flying around, really spontaneous and interactive. I *need* to find a way to make dance music with this level of looseness and feeling.
it never ceases to amaze me what a fine line between reinventing a use for the term bollocks and straining to cut some contemporary cheese some 'artists' walk
It always seems strange to start preparing for the weekend on a Wednesday, before the week even feels like it has really got started, but when James is booked out for an extended Thursday-Friday-Saturday three-night run, I am afraid needs must. Nowadays three-countries-in-three-days sounds a bit too much like hard work to Old Man Holden, but at least all of the nights in this particular series look like they ought to be guaranteed-good-gig-fun.
First up is the ever-reliable Lux in Lisbon on Thursday 6th, before nipping across the Mediterranean to the Club To Club festival in Turin on Friday 7th. Festival organisers have wisely paired him with a live show from Four Tet, one of James' favourite gig buddies (aside from our own Border Community roster of course!). And the rest of the club-based festival doesn't look bad at all if you happen to be in the area, with Luomo, Benga, Pivot, Junior Boys, Skream, The Mole, Magda and Ellen Allien all guesting at assorted clubs over the three days.
Then on Saturday it is off to Paris' Rex Club for the first time in a good long while; in fact it his first Parisian gig since the ecstatic We Love Border Community party we did back in the summer, so I am sure this return is eagerly awaited by all involved. Another happy pairing bills James alongside Buzzin Fly star and Rex / Requiem 45 regular Mlle Caro, whose DJ set last time they had the good fortune to play together at Rex was very much to James' liking - high praise indeed from the hard-to-impress DJ standard-raiser. Mlle Caro's Buzzin Fly album collaboration with Frank Garcia Pain Disappears meanwhile would make a pleasant Border Community friendly addition to anyone's Itunes library who has yet to be converted to the fuzzy Parisian emo-techno sound.
"The chicken" is a mystical figure that haunts my waking life. Ever since James turned his alarm off one morning because a chicken in his dream told him to do so, the spectre of that chicken has become an all-purpose scapegoat for any of the stupid things that James does. Not that he actually is stupid, you understand, but he is surprisingly prone to the odd logic-circumventing brain spasm that leaves you wondering:
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