Monday, April 11, 2011

Sunny Sundays, Transvestites and Mathletricaaaa.


Kent and I have discovered a pivotal thing of this trip, and the joys of Marriage. Sharing. It is interesting. We have one of everything (computer, bed, desk, toilet, you get the gist). I discovered today, upon returning from grocery shopping today, about having to weigh up some very important things. I desperately wanted to use the computer. But I was also busting for the toilet. I had to consider the pros and cons of whether it was worth rushing to the computer, legs clamped together, to get my first pick of music, emails and bloggy type things underway (guess who won), or leap ahead to the toilet, thus risking all of the previous privileges, but, having much more physical comfort and satisfaction, as well as getting out of putting away the shopping. Neato!
I confess, being first to the toilet won, but then I lost my prime position. I had to listen to the worst Burial song ever in the world and wait ... until the unavoidable scraping of the chair back, and ... 

Me "Are you going to the toilet?!?!"
Kent: "Uh yeah - you can use the computer if you want ..." 

Mahaaa! Victor-eeeeeeeeeee! Massive attack is back on- 
"Hang on, this doesn't sound like Burial" 
"I changed it cuz I didn't like it" 
"Aw" 
-And yours truly is blogging away. I love to win (and i, apparently, love to cede control)



So it would seem that Berlin really has the good fortune of what we thought was impossible: sunny and warm weekends, and bleary grey Mondays to follow: just to rub it in, how much the weekend is truly over (even us as perpetual holidayers are feeling the vibe). Anyway we had an excellent Sunday to follow our garden-y joyful Saturday (to be honest I have no idea what day we went to the gardens - all this 'days of the week' talk is just a facade. It is probably Wednesday right now).


So after much aimless wandering, we eventually found the Sunday Market in Friedrichshain, one of our favourite areas of Berlin. Turns out it was a market we had already been to on a previous visit - whoops! (told ya so! Whatever smartarse) However, rather than the aromatic food market we had found before, it was a fantastic little flea market, complete with some of the scariest buskers you will ever lay your eyes on (see above). That is a puppet ... I can't even discuss this. Kent? 
um... just, eeewww.
i dunno what music this was performed to, but it was offal, just offal.
and there were, like, half a dozen kids looking expectantly at the puppet, hoping for something exciting to happen.
sorry kids. disappointment is your only reward.
the only moves this dude could muster were (a) poor lip-synching, the quality of which brings to mind the tragic english language dubbing of bruce lee movies, and (b) a suspicious wanking motion that was presumably meant to resemble strumming, but was awkward enough for us to wonder if the police should be called in.
  

I scored BIG time in the book department (not an actual 'book department') and finally got some obscure collections - only yesterday I was imploring the world: 'why can't I get a good book that is JUST about FISH dammit?!' and lo and behold. I can thank my beloved for his keen eyes in spotting this one. I confess I did quite a bit of sneaky snatching - I saw a woman poring over it so I confess, I actually snuck behind the stall so I wouldn't have to beat the crowds, and watched her. Then, as soon as her fingertips were but a centimetre from the book, I bundled it up with these other babies, and demanded a fair price for the lot. (That last part was a lie: in terrible German I asked how much for all of them, and he said something which I understood to be '10' [the total cost of them anyway - pfft bargain my arse] and reluctantly gave him my 10 euro note because I wanted them SO BAD and I didn't know how to say 'Nev-aaah you swine!' in German. And then got me some change anyway. I clearly have the powers of silent bargaining. Woot!

 
We also took a visit to East Side Gallery, or, The Wall. This was a strange experience, in the sense that, for me at least, it didn't feel like anything. I struggled to imagine what it was like, how it worked, and how it seemed so ... short. One side of what remains is entirely plastered in murals that are of questionable merit, but I can't even bring myself to give it a nice hearty critique, seeing as every mural has words like 'freedom' plastered across it, and I can't argue with that. (But do they really have to be so damn ugly?! Aaaaagh I couldn't hold it in, sorry. Kent, back me up?)
 without sounding like a snotty artist, the artwork was appalling.
there is a wall somewhere in like, rosebud, or rye or somewhere, that is the work of the 1996 grade 9 local high school. both walls are of equal artistic merit. 
No way, the Rosebud one is way better.
having said that, the wall isn't about the art. or quality thereof.
the urge to adorn walls of all shapes and sizes, resonates with a deeper anthropological paradox for expressions of inner understandings and an outward grappling for connectivity, a communicative necessity driven by various concerns, not least of which ...
.... etc etc .... discuss in 2500 words.....


We did get to see this pretty awesome photo-shoot there, and if you look closely (or glance over vaguely because it is impossible to miss), you can get a nice big view of this sexy lady's bumtrinket. On a day that you are going to wear such an alluring outfit, a) maybe tuck your penis in, and b) why why why GREY KNICKERS?! I mean really - what a way to spoil the ensemble.



And then, to top of a rather luscious day, a mosey in Mauer Park, some illegally downloaded episodes (um... this is more of a grey area of legality - does it count when you copy things off other friends computers, even if they have downloaded it illegally? Surely not! Our hands are clean.) of the Office and then off to Kreuzberg for Math Rock. We went to see Battles (or as Kent has been saying "Bittles" in what I can only assume is his remarkably accurate German accent), and got ourselves into this very ordered line. (Only this kind of music could be this organised.) Many of the loveliest looking nerd boys ever (possibly the safest I have ever felt at a gig), all bespectacled and cardiganed to the nines.



This fellow was especially becoming - standing in line, pre-prepared with a novel. Killer cardi. I think our travel scrabble would have gone down a treat, and got us through the waiting.
agreed - most comfortably relaxed and pleasant gig ever.


This is also the only gig I have ever been to (I'm talking international tours) with a set list, for what times each band will come on. On time. Our first performer, Oval, was a very scary geography teacher type man, going mental on his laptop. 

hilarious. it was quite possible he was playing a cd or wav file on his mac, and just watching some porn for all we could tell. his bizarre facial expressions were either celebrations of well timed compositional arrangements of glitch samples, or, whincing at the sexual contortions he was viewing on his screen.

Whoever the second band was, they were fine, and obviously nice and un-offensive - maybe Kent can fill you in. (myeh, they were ok, nothing fancy - to explain: we didn't realise that the background set change music had morphed into theirs. The strangest thing about the gig actually - no talking! No introductions, hellos, nothing. It felt quite rude really.). Our headliners, Battles, were pretty fantastic for a band I actually hate, and have since warmed to considerably. This could be due to their singer quitting before the tour, and the obvious absence of him. The show morphed in and out from "oh my god, this is really quite good" to "oh my god, this is a disastrous high school auditorium flash back" to "wow - phenomenal - that sound - my goodness!". The main setback was that their most recent release (which got the audience into a bit of a frenzy (which, in Germany, means a small shuffling of feet and intake of breath), was the only song with a live singer and it was SHIT. 

... SHIT.

Shame really. If this gig had been in Melbourne, I think it would have gone off. The crowd was so polite and boring, one found it difficult to have a grand old dance. If you don't know the band, it may be worth googling (links below, for your convenience), because, I don't know how it is possible to stay still while listening, particularly at such a high level of decibels. They are positively seizure inducing. It was GREAT! 

yeah - it was great. and yes, there were some problems with their mixing, but still, even so, great.
the drummer (ex-Helmet for anyone old enough to remember those guys, in the glory days of grunge and all, oh wait, link here) was killer.
killer!

He was awesome - remember that demented muppet from Sesame Street who was a drummer? 
Spitting image, I kid you not. Did not stop to draw breath (which I guess makes sense if you're a muppet.)


Kent had about a hundred beers, which was fantastic, because I was then able to, in my rather 'bionade' state convince him to pose for about a hundred photos, all related around different hair styles. (I haven't hung around girls for nearly 3 months, give me a break.) 

omg. it's all a disaster really. my hair is terrible. abysmal. i'm heading for the only safe ground available for me now - the all-over buzz cut. but i can't bring myself to pay 20Euro for one, when i can do it myself at home. I have offered to do it for Kent, so I think I can sway him completely at the next beer session.
 
The evening was topped off with an uneventful train ride home (you know you are not partying hard enough when you share your carriage with a gaggle of middle aged ladies who are clearly more spritely than you - even if it is half past 12 on Sunday night), the most exciting and disturbing part being a young lady with one single dreadlock attached to her otherwise regular hair, and spending the rest of the ride home arguing whether it was a cat tail, a turd wrapped in spiderwebs that had been thrown at a fan, or an ex-lover's dreaddy that had been grafted into her own hair as a memory. (I would also like to point out, that Kent was thoroughly disgusted by my cat-tail suggestion, rather than his own turd-cobweb-combo, purely on the basis that it was actually feasible.) It was all pretty exciting. 

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