Here's a one sided conversation Jono had last night about the beer he was drinking:
Zombie: "What are you drinking? That stuff is piss. It's made by the Bavarians, which shouldn't even be part of Germany, it's part of Austria, and that is an insult to Austrians!" So he tried the local apple wine, which, to my insensitive palette, reminded me of piss. Meanwhile, Lilly the bubbly California blonde had dumped her French suitor and was last seen snogging a Zombie in the back of Das Bett. Well, really, who can resist a Zombie?
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Not enough sleep last night, but it was great to do the load out in the morning. We said "Goodbye" to Ralf, but we'll see him again at the festival next weekend. And, for what it's worth, all praise Google Maps!
On the road to Frieburg, I am impressed that there is corn growing in the cloverleaf on ramps to the highway, a great use of space. Also impressed by advertisements on top of the urinals that light up when they are used. Jeremy got a toy straw that uses the same technology. Everywhere on the highway there are families in packed cars, pulling camping trailers and adorned with bicycle racks. Bored kids sit in the back seat watching their individual DVD screens. The vacation season is starting and everyone is heading south.
Upon arrival in Frieburg, we parked the car and gave a call to Tom, the local promoter and a member of the Black Forest's only surf band Leopold Kraus Wellenkapelle. He came over and met us, squished into the van and took us to our stay for the night. We carry all our bags into a bar that had giant styrofoam punk monsters decorating the walls- where they have a dorm upstairs. Only problem is that they had no idea we were coming! So, reload the van and Tom takes us to a very nice guest house, that had a beer garden next to us. But they were full! Back int the van... Third time is a charm, and in this case, very charming! The Hotel Schiller had space for us, and the rooms are fantastic. Jeff, Lorenzo and I have great view of the hillside. Jono and Jeremy have a room with a balcony over looking the hotel front. And the water is really hot! Immediate showers all around.
An hour of down time, then over to The Great Raeng Teng Teng (no idea what it means) for load in. The club is in a very old section of town which is pedestrian only, except for the public transport which runs on rails through the main drag. People stare, children point, locals laugh as we drive through, stuck between two trains. And, gah, the street signs are in a heavy Gothic font (possibly Fette Fractur) which is only legible to readers of the Guttenberg Bible, Heavy Metal bands and prison tattoo artists. Of course we miss the side street, and have to call Tom to guide the van, so he hops in, we make a loop passed the University, enter the old city center again, to more stares, laughs and pointing. Did I mention how cute Frieburg is? I can't wait to come back here.
Load in to the club down a flight of stairs, a good size room, we set up and run through a few songs that seem to be suffering from repetitive stress syndrome. Dinner down the street, we each order a varaition of schnitzel, and I go for the spaetzele on the side. Unfortunately our dinner takes a little while to arrive and just as it does, Tom comes to our table to tell us that the club is full, and it is time for us to go on, so our dinner is anything but relaxed. Still, the schnitzel was tasty. Back to the club and right on stage.
It was a long strange set. Though the crowd applauded between each song, there was no dancing and they just stood there blowing cigarette smoke in our faces (yes I know this is Europe, I'm just being provincial). We did a nice long set, with a few more bumps than we should be happy with. But the crowd would not let us stop, and we ended up playing nearly every song on the set list. Eventually, we had to stop- we ran out of songs. Tom was very happy with the turnout for a Sunday night. No tear down tonight (I like this tradition!) and walked back through the quiet and, and did I mention charming, old town of Frieburg to our hotel. One final Sunday note- I had left the hotel key with the front desk, but didn't know that they closed at 11. I was about to have a wee meltdown when we saw that the management had posted a note on the front door telling us that our room key was placed in Jono and Jeremy's room. Very impressive efficiency!
This is the best travel blog I've ever read.
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ReplyDeleteThe local paper had a short review of the Freiburg show, so I try to translate it into my clumsy English:
ReplyDelete"Nowadays there is always some surfing going on somewhere. Musically. At Freiburg's Great Räng Teng Teng played Pollo del Mar from San Francisco. Being all but forerunners of the eternal wave they have produced quite some CDs in 15 years and been touring the whole world. An institution in the matter of surf music and evidence for the fact, that it is possible to survive in a niche. Provided that you have the class of this quartet or, phrasing it differently: you have to tell something that goes beyond the initial sound from the beginning of the 60s. With this surfers there sits always some little jokester on the surfboard, which is already indicated in the name of the band: Chicken of the sea doesn't sound orthodox, and what's more, Pollo del Mar is some brand of american canned thuna. Wearing shrill Hawaii shirts and little hats the four middleaged players don't seem to take themselves too serious, but what they take serious is the music. Naturally some classics will not be missing, and some moments, where they pay tribute to the old heroes. But song from Led Zeppelin, Coldplay, Dead Kennedys or Frank Zappa have to bite the dust as is some hungarian or mexican stuff. While they are transferring known song material into the surf context, their own compositions are probing the limits of the surf genre: With neckbreaking breaks, off-key and shrill sounds and complicated harmonies. And the best: The virtuosity is always in the service of the structure, the narrative and the humour."
You may find the german article at
http://www.badische-zeitung.de/nachrichten/kultur/rock-und-pop/kritik-in-kuerze-xwwkfdxix--17345243.html
Our day at the Great ring-a-ding-ding club was another fun one. Over dinner, Lorenzo pointed out that schnitzel is veal milanese...which came first? A culinary question for the ages. What about the Texan chicken fried steak? During the show, I managed to smack myself in the eye with a stick at full velocity. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain, but did not miss a beat. My eye stayed red for the next ten days.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed a luxurious late night bath in the huge tub. It took a while to fill until I realized I hadn't figured out the built in plug! Breakfast by 10. To the club for load out at eleven. Lots of traffic in the street outside the club. car access for deliveries is strictly limited to a short time period in the neighborhood. we pulled out of the way as far as we could without setting the wheels of the van into the cobblestone rivulet that ran down the block. Drivers of vehicles wishing to pass had to get out and move some shops' signs and a cafe table. Lots of consternation and repressed anger on the part of the locals. Sorry, dude, I'm with the band.