Ok then.
So back from Tiger Leaping Gorge. From Le Jiang. From Dali. (From Kunming). It's been a while since I've made a post. Let's get down to the technical. I believe in my last post I mentioned Robert and I staying at the Hump, which was full of hippies and stuff. I ended up meeting this girl...Angie...at a bar... I remember asking her "Do you just hang out at bars and hit on foriegners all the time?" Her answer was, of course not, I'm a good Chinese girl yadda yadda yadda. So. This rad dude that we met named Kevin told us that Dali was the place to go, so we bought sleeper train tickets for the next evening. I told my would-be girlfriend Angie about this, which she took as a disappointment even though having a full knowledge that I was a traveller.
~and if I stay here with you girl....things just couldn't be the same...~ Lynyrd Skynyrd
So the next day we were lazing around the Hump, reading and so on, and this guy passes me a flyer for his band - SPERMATOAZEUS! Which was really cool because the art was to my taste. The Italian guy that gave me the flyer was the lead singer in this punk quidtuplet. He told me that I could meet the artist if I came to the show.... which was that night. So this is how I played my cards - I cancelled the ticket and booked more for the next day, but didn't tell my 'girlfriend'. Robert and I showed up to the concert at the same bar that Angie and I met - The Speakeasy.
Ok.... backstory. I saw a flyer for 'Jam Night' at a local bar. "Bring your instruments! Everyone Welcome!" Sounded rad to me. For anyone who doesn't know me too too well; I enjoy playing music. I mean I REALLY enjoy playing music. If I could wake up in the morning and be surrounded by instruments and musicians and played 12 hours a day, I'd be the happiest Nathan in the world. So we show up at Jam night 30 minutes after the time specified for 'jamming'. There was almost no one there. One guy said that there's basically one band that gets up and plays blues crap all night and once in a while will reluctantly take up a few musicians to play shitty Nirvana covers. I was pretty disappointed. While I was furrowing my brows in a futile attempt to understand the situation I questioned the small trickle of people coming into the bar if they could play music. I was like a desparate snot-nosed junkie looking for a fix. I finally found one dude from I-don't-know-where that could play the guitar. He had similar taste in music (Although the bastard didn't understand the mental importance of Iron Maiden - God spare him) and so I had my first soon-to-be rockstar. I prowled the place and found a bassist; so I guessed I was the drummer - Ok enough. I rushed back to the guitarist and informed him that "We're going on stage to rock people's socks off so put on your finest boots and let's Rock and Roll!" and he looked at me sort of dumbfounded and said "Oh...man... I'm sorry... I don't want to play tonight... I got my beer...just want to take it easy and stuff." I should have known by his influential lack of Iron Maiden that he was a total choad. I was now the junkie that got busted by an undercover cop - jonesing and unable (for the next few months) to get your fix again. Man I was down. Down? I was downright mad! And you know what I do when I get mad kids?? I play darts. Unhappily. I throw and I lob and I try to get the bullseye, but you know what? I'M NO GOOD AT DARTS!! (Keep in mind that this was like 10 days ago and I'm still upset about it) ANYwho. I was playing darts. Robert was having fun drinking his beer. The swine. He lumbered over a few minutes later, "Hey man what are you doing, the party's really cool over there and stuff..." He was hanging out with the Non-Iron Maideins so I wasn't about to join THAT party. We played a game of darts. He impressed me by throwing the dart the hardest I've ever seen it thrown. So hard that it wouldn't even hit the dartboard. So hard that when it hit the wall the dart flew into 4 pieces which had to be reassembled every time. This constant reassembly of darts was just too much for me in this dark hour, so I decided to head on into the back room to the rest of this story that for a second didn't seem to be going anywhere.
Angie was in there. Along with her friend and this blonde haired guy. They were all sleeping. I mean, the way that this looked wasn't good already. For one, above the door to this room was a sign that said 'The use of illegal drugs and narcotics are forbidden. Sorry for any Inconvienence' When you walked into the dimly lit room you would find pillows and couches and even a bed in the corner with those lacy curtain things around it. And here's a couple of dudes passed out at a table. I sat down. "What are you guys doing? " I asked. Total Opium Den. They lazily woke and became accustomed to their surroundings, then became fiercely energetic. I sat down by Angie and she, within the first 5 minutes of meeting her, asked if I wanted to play spin the bottle. Being a handsome young foriegner who lives in a horribly conservative part of the country, who, under no circumstance would be flirted with this gingerly said, "Why of course you little tart. I'll play spin the bottle with you." The blonde guy from (Holland?) requested more girls so Angie's friend ran out and pulled in a couple of rough looking Chinese babes and the game began. So with the rest of the night as a mystery to all of you internet perverts, I shall continue with the present account.
So I walked in the Speakeasy to see Spermatoazeus. As soon as I walked in I was pulled right toward the stage because of the music. IT was freakin AWESOME. It was like oldschool Butthole Surfers or Le Saavy Fav or some rad band. They were punk, and when you think of punk, you think of shit. You think of loud, and you think of unconceptualized ranting about how much BUSH SUCKS. And everyone will chant HELL YEAH or something retarded - but this was PUNK. It wasn't too loud, and mixed very well. The bassist kept a great rhythm with the drummer - very simpistic. They had two singers, both singing through heavy distortion ala Butthole Surfers one with a SPERMATOAZEUS shirt on and the other was wearing the rather hackneyed swastica with a red cross through it, and the guitarist was just chilling- sitting down and nodding his head slightly. It was really dancable. So much in fact that tons of blokes were just going crazy. Chinese people that had never heard good music before just going nuts. I took tons of pictures - don't worry. But then I joined in. It was the coolest pit I've been in for a long time - probably since my Libyan Hitsquad drunken K&K gigs. Oh yeah. That was funny. Libyan Hitsquad the strait-edge punk rock back with Syd Barrett for a drummer. So anyway, good times, good times. When they ended I was energetic and went up on stage to congraduate the band in the sincerest way possible; made my way through the sweaty crowd to find Robert in front of me saying "Yo dude, Angie's all up on this guy right over there." So that's my experience with the loose good-looking bar skanks of Kunming.
Like I said in an earlier post, describing every moment is not quite as futile as it is time consuming, so to quote Maynard from a A Perfect Circle concert I went to a ways back "Tonight... this moment... is very special for us... and very special to many of you... and when you're busy taking pictures..snap snap snap; you're missing the moment." - To use pictures as a metaphor for the journal entries. I'll post about Dali and the crazy old villager women that come up to you with necklaces and cheap jewelry saying "Looky Looky" then with a lower tone "smoka ganja!" later... because right now, I'm sitting in an internet cafe at 8:16, and my night for tonight is beginning. Oh yes, one more shout out to my RAD sister whose birthday was just two days ago. Sorry I couldn't call, but I'll try tonight. Peace from the East.
~and if I stay here with you girl....things just couldn't be the same...~ Lynyrd Skynyrd
So the next day we were lazing around the Hump, reading and so on, and this guy passes me a flyer for his band - SPERMATOAZEUS! Which was really cool because the art was to my taste. The Italian guy that gave me the flyer was the lead singer in this punk quidtuplet. He told me that I could meet the artist if I came to the show.... which was that night. So this is how I played my cards - I cancelled the ticket and booked more for the next day, but didn't tell my 'girlfriend'. Robert and I showed up to the concert at the same bar that Angie and I met - The Speakeasy.
Ok.... backstory. I saw a flyer for 'Jam Night' at a local bar. "Bring your instruments! Everyone Welcome!" Sounded rad to me. For anyone who doesn't know me too too well; I enjoy playing music. I mean I REALLY enjoy playing music. If I could wake up in the morning and be surrounded by instruments and musicians and played 12 hours a day, I'd be the happiest Nathan in the world. So we show up at Jam night 30 minutes after the time specified for 'jamming'. There was almost no one there. One guy said that there's basically one band that gets up and plays blues crap all night and once in a while will reluctantly take up a few musicians to play shitty Nirvana covers. I was pretty disappointed. While I was furrowing my brows in a futile attempt to understand the situation I questioned the small trickle of people coming into the bar if they could play music. I was like a desparate snot-nosed junkie looking for a fix. I finally found one dude from I-don't-know-where that could play the guitar. He had similar taste in music (Although the bastard didn't understand the mental importance of Iron Maiden - God spare him) and so I had my first soon-to-be rockstar. I prowled the place and found a bassist; so I guessed I was the drummer - Ok enough. I rushed back to the guitarist and informed him that "We're going on stage to rock people's socks off so put on your finest boots and let's Rock and Roll!" and he looked at me sort of dumbfounded and said "Oh...man... I'm sorry... I don't want to play tonight... I got my beer...just want to take it easy and stuff." I should have known by his influential lack of Iron Maiden that he was a total choad. I was now the junkie that got busted by an undercover cop - jonesing and unable (for the next few months) to get your fix again. Man I was down. Down? I was downright mad! And you know what I do when I get mad kids?? I play darts. Unhappily. I throw and I lob and I try to get the bullseye, but you know what? I'M NO GOOD AT DARTS!! (Keep in mind that this was like 10 days ago and I'm still upset about it) ANYwho. I was playing darts. Robert was having fun drinking his beer. The swine. He lumbered over a few minutes later, "Hey man what are you doing, the party's really cool over there and stuff..." He was hanging out with the Non-Iron Maideins so I wasn't about to join THAT party. We played a game of darts. He impressed me by throwing the dart the hardest I've ever seen it thrown. So hard that it wouldn't even hit the dartboard. So hard that when it hit the wall the dart flew into 4 pieces which had to be reassembled every time. This constant reassembly of darts was just too much for me in this dark hour, so I decided to head on into the back room to the rest of this story that for a second didn't seem to be going anywhere.
Angie was in there. Along with her friend and this blonde haired guy. They were all sleeping. I mean, the way that this looked wasn't good already. For one, above the door to this room was a sign that said 'The use of illegal drugs and narcotics are forbidden. Sorry for any Inconvienence' When you walked into the dimly lit room you would find pillows and couches and even a bed in the corner with those lacy curtain things around it. And here's a couple of dudes passed out at a table. I sat down. "What are you guys doing? " I asked. Total Opium Den. They lazily woke and became accustomed to their surroundings, then became fiercely energetic. I sat down by Angie and she, within the first 5 minutes of meeting her, asked if I wanted to play spin the bottle. Being a handsome young foriegner who lives in a horribly conservative part of the country, who, under no circumstance would be flirted with this gingerly said, "Why of course you little tart. I'll play spin the bottle with you." The blonde guy from (Holland?) requested more girls so Angie's friend ran out and pulled in a couple of rough looking Chinese babes and the game began. So with the rest of the night as a mystery to all of you internet perverts, I shall continue with the present account.
So I walked in the Speakeasy to see Spermatoazeus. As soon as I walked in I was pulled right toward the stage because of the music. IT was freakin AWESOME. It was like oldschool Butthole Surfers or Le Saavy Fav or some rad band. They were punk, and when you think of punk, you think of shit. You think of loud, and you think of unconceptualized ranting about how much BUSH SUCKS. And everyone will chant HELL YEAH or something retarded - but this was PUNK. It wasn't too loud, and mixed very well. The bassist kept a great rhythm with the drummer - very simpistic. They had two singers, both singing through heavy distortion ala Butthole Surfers one with a SPERMATOAZEUS shirt on and the other was wearing the rather hackneyed swastica with a red cross through it, and the guitarist was just chilling- sitting down and nodding his head slightly. It was really dancable. So much in fact that tons of blokes were just going crazy. Chinese people that had never heard good music before just going nuts. I took tons of pictures - don't worry. But then I joined in. It was the coolest pit I've been in for a long time - probably since my Libyan Hitsquad drunken K&K gigs. Oh yeah. That was funny. Libyan Hitsquad the strait-edge punk rock back with Syd Barrett for a drummer. So anyway, good times, good times. When they ended I was energetic and went up on stage to congraduate the band in the sincerest way possible; made my way through the sweaty crowd to find Robert in front of me saying "Yo dude, Angie's all up on this guy right over there." So that's my experience with the loose good-looking bar skanks of Kunming.
Like I said in an earlier post, describing every moment is not quite as futile as it is time consuming, so to quote Maynard from a A Perfect Circle concert I went to a ways back "Tonight... this moment... is very special for us... and very special to many of you... and when you're busy taking pictures..snap snap snap; you're missing the moment." - To use pictures as a metaphor for the journal entries. I'll post about Dali and the crazy old villager women that come up to you with necklaces and cheap jewelry saying "Looky Looky" then with a lower tone "smoka ganja!" later... because right now, I'm sitting in an internet cafe at 8:16, and my night for tonight is beginning. Oh yes, one more shout out to my RAD sister whose birthday was just two days ago. Sorry I couldn't call, but I'll try tonight. Peace from the East.