bands around the world

Oct. 4, 2006

A poster caught our eye in the Beijing subway: Rock and Beer Feast 2006. Almost all the poster was in Chinese characters, rendering the information useless to us, but we managed to figure out there was a week-long, all-day music (and beer) festival somewhere in town while we were there. (and calling it a feast, instead of the more conventional fest, just made it more appealing).


In the English-language mags we found a bit more information, although still tantalizingly little: yes, it was a week-long series of concerts starting at about 2 p.m. each day. More importantly, the venue (listed as "International Sculpture Garden") was accessible by subway, the only way we could navigate Beijing. And the entry fee was less than $10.
Wednesday, we lounged around the apartment all morning. Since most of the day was shot already, we figured we'd head out to the feast to make it sound like we hadn't squandered all our time. In our mind, we figured we'd lie on the grass, listen to a couple of bands (since we had no idea what to expect, we went in figuring the quality would be poor. No chance of disappointment) and then maybe leave and figure out something else.


We showed up about three o'clock. The venue was easy enough to find, since it was literally just outside the subway stop. The "sculpture garden" ended up being an airport-sized piece of fenced-in concrete; not the perfect place to hang out in the 80-degree sunshine. A group of maybe 100 kids sat in front of the stage at one end of the cement, watching a punk band fronted by a high-school aged girl. A few more sat by the two beverage tents in the middle of the area, about 300-400 yards from the stage. The far edge was ringed with tents selling food and merchandise. The crowd seemed to be primarily 16-22 year olds, with enough exceptions to make it interesting. All in all, pretty typical. Except we were the only white faces there (a few more, looking like international college students, showed up later in the evening). And the beer sellers, who were using some sort of purchase-tickets-then-exchange-tickets-for-beer system, didn't speak English. And I didn't understand a word the bands were saying (actually, I suppose that is pretty typical).

A few bands into the day (each band got about a half-hour set) we were treated to our first taste of the bizarre: a goth-metal band, lead singer dressed in what I'm guessing was a traditional western Chinese costume (to my eye, it looked a bit like Native American garb) and everyone else in full white face paint. A few power rock chords, then out comes the traditional Chinese violin. Nice touch.

The bands weren't bad, generally. We figured out how to buy beer (3 yuan, or about 35 cents, for a big bottle of beer; 5 yuan for a smaller bottle of water). A girl at the refreshment tent took the opportunity to practice her English, helped us navigate our way through the selection and translated the names of some bands. She also keep asking us if we liked the music, near incredulous as well as excited at our answer of yes.

Just after dark came our favorite act of the night. It didn't hurt when they broke into a pop-punk cover of "You Are My Sunshine," one of three English-language songs the whole day. (I honestly can't remember what the first one was, but the other one was "Cat Scratch Fever" sang by a hard-rocking Chinese who, I'm convinced, didn't know English or have any idea what he was saying).

Many, many beers and about eight hours later, we even managed to negotiate the subway properly and make it home.


Nov. 8

Since even before we left New Zealand, it seemed like we were continuously visiting cities where a band one of us wanted to see had just been or was just about to arrive; either way, not while we were actually there. In London, we checked the gig guides and the sites of several bands we knew were touring. Again, all of them were going to miss us by at least a few weeks.

Kirsten checked on one more band, and found it, too, would miss us, playing in London while we would be in Newcastle. Then we looked at their schedule, decided to see where Gateshead was, and found out it actually was in Newcastle, at the same time we were going to be in Newcastle. So, finally, a happy coincidence and a show we wanted to see.

The show was in the Sage Gateshead, a brand-new venue on the south side of the Tyne River. From the outside, the steel-and-glass structure looks a bit like a giant, shiny slug. From the inside, it offers a brilliant view of downtown Newcastle as well as three concert halls.

The show itself, the only one on our trip we bought tickets for ahead of time, was a bit of a disappointment. I've heard Yo La Tengo's album tracks before, and I generally like them. Live, I felt they should have taken the distortion pedals away from the lead singer. There was more noise than music, and from a band whose lyrics are probably the strength, when you can't hear the lyrics it's a problem.


Nov. 11

It looked like we'd have our usual problem as we headed to Ireland. There was a band our friend Ryan had introduced us to. We discovered they'd be playing in Dublin the first weekend we'd be in Ireland. However, plans changed and it turned out we were in County Cavan the night of the show, rather than Dublin.

Our Irish friends told us they'd be taking us to Galway the next night, to see the reuniting show of one their brother's bands - they were opening for a touring band at a Galway pub. (Unfortunately for me, the name of their band has left my mind. Sorry, Alan.) We arrived in Galway a little late, and the band we came to see was off the stage. We decided to head in anyway, since two of us were on the guest list and the remaining cover wasn't that bad split between all of us.

We walked in the pub and saw chaos on stage. There were nearly 30 people up there, most of whom had no instruments (save kazoos) but were singing, blowing bubbles, throwing confetti and dancing like mad. I figured they'd grabbed a bunch of fans out of the audience. The crowd was into it, the music was catchy. It also sounded a little familiar.

Now, Ryan had only given us I'm From Barcelona's music. We had no idea what the band make-up was. So after a couple songs, when a very familiar song starts playing, Kirsten leaned over to me: "They're covering I'm From Barcelona!" Then we started to wonder. I leaned over to one of the Irish boys: "Who is this band?" "Barcelona something!"

We'd stumbled across the show of the band we'd meant to see, without any idea we were going to. It also ended up being one of the best shows we'd ever seen.