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CH+INDIE FEST II: The Wrath of Khan...An Entirely Undescriptive Mémoire of Two Days of Peace, Love and Veggie Burgers Written Whilst Extremely Hung-Over Several Weeks Later. Text by Ian Sherman Photos by Gabriel Mellan & Wang Qian DAY ONE. Morning. Whose stupid fucking idea was it to get up at ten? More importantly, how drunk was I to agree? Kaglers (i.e. Heike) are stressed, been like Bombay during monsoon season all week but it’s looking pretty good right now; sun is out, not much cloud. Fuck’s it doing raining in July anyway? It’s hot though. Really bloody hot! Four shower kind of heat, kind of heat that might even tempt Kyle to take a shower. Brought four extra t-shirts along with me – be prepared. Dib dib and all that shit. Traffic sucking a huge amount of polluted, humid cock. Much stress in the Taxi. Heike’s having a spazz attack, Kagler’s not helping. I feel like a whale has shat in my head. Can’t figure out if Tian Xi is cool and aloof or just really shy. Bands are supposed to be soundchecking already, there’s something about table delivery times, taxi driver’s a blind retard from Wuhan and on balance, I think she’s cool and aloof. I need to get out of this taxi. It’s been half an hour and I already need to change shirts. Taxi driver starts cursing at an SUV. Sigh. Get to 2k at noon. No sign of any kind of band or musician. Not much of a surprise. Heike remains stressed. Place looks like a bomb hit it, followed by a hurricane and possibly a small herd of extremely lost elephants. Detritus of previous night’s festivities. 2K obviously have a ‘Fuck it! We’ll clean up in the morning’ policy in effect. PA gear arrives as we do. No one’s here. Well, the 2k sound guy is here – think maybe he slept/sleeps here. But not Gao Feng or Liu Miao. Where the fuck are they. I don’t actually give that much of a shit, but Heike does and given her current stress levels I’ve instituted my own policy of ‘agree with Heike no matter what she wants’. She wants me to move the same table to five different places then that’s exactly what I’ll do; she wants me to quietly slit Kagler’s throat while he’s taking a piss (starting to feel like a distinct possibility) then that is what she’ll get. So ‘Where the fuck is Liu Miao?’ . More important, where the fuck is the fan? It’s hot – I’ll probably mention that again. Stage gear shows up. Paid people doing useful things. Still no bands. Why am I here? I’m contributing nothing. Try to skive off for a kip. Kaglers don’t care, but its too hot/ Tian Xi still being cool and aloof, reading a mag. Hey! Maybe she’s flirting with me. Think about that for 37 seconds. Steal another can of sprite from behind the bar. Their fucking fault for not being here. Move umbrellas. Oh yeah – usefulness. The hair boys (Gabe and Jonathon) arrive and immediately leap into amazingly constructive and productive labour. Gabe hasn’t even bothered with a shirt. Nipple rings. Always have overwhelming urge to tug those puppies out. That’s gotta be a serious handicap in a fight. Anyway… usefulness. Jonathon has assembled a string of rather cool lights which he proceeds to install. Some debate about length. How long is a fucking meter anyway? Heike remains stressed. Bands start dribbling in at about two. Two hours late and two hours before the show starts. Heike not happy. Stage not ready yet. Brain Failure show up, No Name, Casino Demon. No Name hanging around Brain Failure all star struck – tattoos is full effect. Me, I’m just hoping Brain Failure don’t know who I am – I gave ‘em a shit album review in Time Out and they look pretty handy in a fight. Still not really doing anything. Given up wiping the flood of sweat from my face – pointless. Gabe has climbed up a wall to hang the backdrop. Wants weights. I can’t even chuck a brick up at him. Loser. Me. More bands. Joewi from Arrows. Not sure why, but have the distinct feeling he doesn’t like me. He’s got the drummer from Red Hand with him. Maybe it’s a political thing or maybe I’m just an arsehole or maybe he doesn’t give a fuck one way or the other. Soundchecking has finally started. Order of appearance. Brain Failure. Tamsin from Red T shows up with minions. Dumps minions, drives off – back to her glamourous day. Don’t blame her. Hang on, where the fuck’s Kyle? Flash visions of Kyle in underwear peering intently at his ‘puter while negotiating purchase of Ork armour force themselves into my brain buffer momentarily. Not nice. Alta A people arrive, successfully transmitting a ‘we’re slumming it’ vibe. Help with setting up tables. Four o’clock rolls round. Brain Failure still soundchecking. Hordes of punters conspicuous in their absense. 5 o’clock; Brain Failure still trying to recreate that sound in their heads. Get the fuck on with it. It’s a forty minute set and you’ve been sound checking for two and a half fucking hours. Nobody needs that long, for fuck’s sake. This shit is pure posturing. Making the other bands wait. Wankers. 6 O’Clock. Filling up a little. Sky’s turning an ugly, portentious colour. Managed to get Brain Failure off the stage, but we’ve still got four more bands to soundcheck. Cute bird that I kind of fancy arrives. Jonathon all over her. Bastard. Heike looking stressed. Kagler looking like lord of the manor. Dorko and Kendra finally showed up, with their patented ‘we’ve just had more insanely creative sex than you will ever have in your life’ vibe. Oh… and they speak perfect Chinese. Fuckers. Soundchecks now a little briefer. Cute bird I like is talking to me. Fuck! I haven’t had anything to drink. Make excuses. Casino Demon finally kick things off at around seven, a mere three hours after published time. Heike’s still stressed. I wouldn’t fuck with Heike if I were you. Sky looks like it could vomit at any minute. People from the restaurant next door are complaining about the noise. What the fuck? Surely this has all been sorted out long in advance. Yes, by 2K. Quick questioning of Liu Miao reveals that he hadn’t actually bothered with that bit. Uh oh! Bad move, my friend. The wrath of Heike is swift, exact and hard. Much multi-lateral negotiation ensues, mostly at cross-purposes. Do they want money? No. Well, maybe… no, yes. Ok. Liu Miao looks unhappy. Heike looks like four and twenty extremely pissed off black birds are about to start streaming out of her ears. Kagler looks elsewhere. Casino Demon surprisingly good. Unexpected. Should have put them higher up the bill. People still trickling in. No one’s getting rich yet, but it’s early. Catering guy shows up with his truck. Bit of disruption. Good time to not be Heike. DJing between sets. Decide to go with a little old-school shit. Play ‘em some golden earring. Fiftysomething guy at ALTA table starts looking happy. No Name are not very good. Record label shit got them on the bill. Posturing. Shouting. Tatts. Spiked leather jackets. Distinct absence of ability. Real punk, I guess. Kylendra seem to like them, but that’s how they roll. I’m fucking around with the DJ shit for no reason than to let everyone present know that I am the DJ and, hence, cool. That’s how I roll. Kagler’s schmoozing. That’s how he rolls. Tian Xi’s looking entirely aloof and unanimated at the booth, but I’m now sure she wants me. That’s how she rolls. Gabe’s still being charming and shirtless, that’s how he rolls. Jonathon’s talking to Cute Bird I Like, that’s how he wants to roll. Heike does not roll, she steams. It’s still hot as badgers’ nadgers and just as humid. Sky’s making gurgling noise. Thunderclap! Rain. Maybe it’ll just drizzle for a bit. Fuck that! The sky is indeed falling on our heads. Mad fucking rush to get everyone and everything inside; gear covered up. Kyle and I manage to get decks set up and playing within five minutes. Pretty good I fault. The punters are restless, but also trapped. On the plus side, rain has cancelled the last part of No Name’s set. Weather sucks. Have to play the rest inside. Oh well. Brain Failure insist that playing inside wasn’t part of the deal and that as penalty their banner (which they just happened to have with them) has to be hung as backdrop for the inside stage. Prima donna pricks. To be brutally honest, I don’t actually go in to watch any of the bands until AMD. Seen them all many times and can hear perfectly fine outside. Rain’s stopped, so we’ve moved the DJ gear back outside. Essentially two parties. Plenty of people now. Nice atmosphere. Even manage to talk to Cute Girl I Like until Jonathon swoops in. I swear that guy’s cock-blocking me. Scoff do their shouty thing. Sulumi bleeps and bloops. We DJ. Some drunk arsehole literally falls into the DJ table, breaking it and spilling beer all over my CDs. Amazingly the music continues all through Attack Of The Fucktards. Heike’s actually looking like she’s having a good time. Arrows. Good show. Sounding better and better. Turns out Jonathon hasn’t been cock-blocking me, I’ve been cock-blocking him as he’s been on a couple of dates with Cute Girl I Like. Doesn’t seem fair, just ‘cos he had the gumption to actually ask her; that’s shit’s practically cheating. Brain Failure. Don’t know, don’t care. Ska punk. Meh! Night ends with Kagler and noisecore sex-furher Christiaan Virant DJing. Guy can spin and knows what all the knobs do on the decks. Nerd.

Casino Demon No Name The Scoff Snapline Arrows Made of Desire Brain Failure DAY TWO. Canny, now I refuse to accompany the Kaglers in at whatever godawful hour they chose to depart. Taking my own sweet time, I arrive at about 2. Stage still inside from yesterday, even though it’s a beautiful day. On balance makes sense. The sky speaks with forked tongue. It will inevitably rain, no matter what it says now. Also, since it’s two and Subs have just started soundchecking, we’re obviously going to have a repeat of yesterdays endless fucking soundchecking – so may as well have that going on inside and keep the punters outside. We set up DJing outside. Heike’s getting an early start on the stress. A whole bunch of rented tables got broken last night. Kagler pissed off, muttering about people are so selfish. I wonder how many tables he’s (or for that matter, I’ve) broken in drunken shenanigans. This is, after all, a man who managed to break his own arm in a drunken punching contest. A table doesn’t seem outside the realms of possibility. All of this occurs to him eventually and he mellows out. Heike sunburned from yesterday, as are we all, so it’s harder to gauge exactly how stressed she is at any given moment, but I’m going to lay down a baseline of ‘mildly panicky with suggestions of incipient apoplexy’. Already seems like today is going to be more fun. Hell, might even get drunk… Bands are still dribbling in. Dead J is so shy he’s scared of the grass. It’s still fucking hot. Tian Xi just looked at me. Hah! I was right – she wants me so bad. Joewi’s back. Scowls at me. Or at least I think he does. Little bloke from Scoff is back. Good to see some of these guys coming just to hang out. Subs finish their soundcheck and then just come and sit outside in front of the DJ table. That’s cool… they’re not fucking off until five minutes before their set. They seem into the Floyd. Kagler goes into full schmooze mode. Do a little myself, with some guy from Rock For China. No Kylendra, no surprises. Four O’clock. Getting a good feeling about today. Vibe seems better, more relaxed. Even Heike’s allowing the occasional smile squatting rights to her face. German crew rolls up. Nice people. Always lend support. Jon and Gabe with Jenny. D22 crew show up ‘en masse. Wanna go say hi, but I’m still crippled by the idea that they all hate me and only-half-correctly think that I’m a no-nothing pompous prick. Nice people, I think, but they close ranks tight. Actual honest to god punters show up at ten minutes to four – early! What the fuck?! Yesterday, no-one rolled up ‘til 6. Sunday, I guess. Soundcheckings still on, natch, but outside’s nice and the DJing keeps ‘em sedate. Five o’clock. Cute Bird I Like shows up, hangs with Heike. Jonathon swoops. More power to him, bastard! Still trying to get my head round this whole ‘asking birds out on dates’ approach. Confusing. AltA show up – all 27 of them. Obviously, feeling bad about bolting at the first raindrop yesterday, they’re perhaps overcompensating today. All camped out around their table, looking like the 15th Cavalry brigade deep in Injun Territory. Don’t worry, guys, the Rickshaw won’t crumble in your absence. 6. Veggie guys show up late again. Red T crew. Red T minion is really cool but keeps asking me weird questions about DJing. Like I fucking know! I slide a mean fader, is all. Nuclear soundchecking. Only two hours late. Liu Miao, looking a lot less harried than last night, comes out to make sure we will stop DJing when Nuclear start. Sweet. Bless. Got a soft spot for Nuke. Joyside are here. Main man has reached critical Keith Richards mass. Just looks constantly horrendously fucked up. That, or he does a mean impersonation. Keep themselves aloof. Subs still just hanging out, chatting, digging the tunes. Rapidly gaining lots of Kudos. Hedgehog milling around, looking cute and noogie-worth, Atom anyways. Think they’ve finally got around to reading my review of their album, since they keep approaching, hesitating on the brink of something and then retreating. Say something, dammit! I think you’re very close to being the best band in Beijing (TTR’s roster excepted, of course), make friends with me, make friends with me. I need the cred. Seven o’clock. Nuclear rip into their set with gusto. We’ve got a good crowd going now, probably the largest they’ve ever played to and they make hey while the sun shines, so to speak. They’ve been working on their shit; no new material that I can hear, but a shitload of new arrangements. Stoner Rock quota has been ramped up. Liu Miao loses the beat here and there, but when the riffs are this monolithic, who gives a shit? Sound Fragment come on. Exeunt Ian. Good professional outfit, just not my cup of tea. Coldplay on bad speed. As many people outside as in. Seems like a good turnout. Guy shows up with hair spotwelded in place, suit, brown patent-leather loafers and a shit eating grin. Take a bow, Captain Smug. Well out of place; doesn’t seem to care. Doesn’t even hang out at the AltA table. Salute, mon capitaine. Command and Conquer Bird is here (another story, another time), everywhere, in fact. Everywhere I turn, anyway, smiling up at me expectantly. Fuck! I’m pond scum, but I was kind of hoping she’d have figured that out by now. Plan B. Ignore and Evade. Kylendra show up. Life gets more interesting. Hedgehog. Go in for this, since in my own small way I’ve started a little wave of hype for them. Please play a good set, you can do it. Hmm… not the best set. Sound guy had the guitar way down. Why’d you turn the guitar down for Hedgehog – it’s what they do. They still rock my world though. Dead J comes find me to borrow the mixer. DJing from one deck… not so much DJing as changing CDs as quickly as possible. Didn’t actually see his set. Was busy evading C&C Bird and hovering around Cute Bird I Like. Heike’s got the whisper of a smile on her face. Dunno where Kagler is. Kyle DJing. Went in briefly for Joyside. C&C Bird appears at my elbow, still smiling. She’s not said a word to me yet, nor I to her, but it’s understood – I’m being stalked. Like her. Like her. Just not feeling it. Probably should just explain, but why do that when there are exciting skulking opportunities available to me. Starving now. Tried the veggie food, tasted alright, but couldn’t get past that fact that it was made from re-proccessed bird droppings or whatever. Get Charlie to order a pizza. Extra fucking pepperoni, please. Couple of drops of rain now and then, nothing major. Kind of drunk now. Boss shows up. Talk drunken crap with him for a while. Subs still just hanging out. Thinking she was Jenny Wong, I noogie Atom from Hedgehog’s head. Mucho embarrassment. Seriously, get some height already Pizza arrives. Give the bass player from Subs a slice. Ditto Joewi, in a peacemaking effort. Jin from Modern Sky gets a slice for rocking the stone washed cut-offs. Catch the second half of LCD’s set. These guys just keep getting better and better. Really. Almost mesmerizing. The light show is ace, as well. Very fucking sweaty. SUBS go on. Tear up the fucking place. Singer sporting Tagteam Sticker on her arm. Very fucking cool band. C&C Bird seems to get some sort of message. ‘I’m leaving’. Erm… ok. Think she might have pulled. Best case scenario. Cute Bird I Like still floating around, minimal Jonathon activity. Subs finish, come back out and resume their heavy programme of just hanging around. Try to keep things going at the DJ table. Folks will be folks, mind, so gradually the audience thins. Packing up. Kagler, Heike. Red Tamsin and I last to leave. Good night. See you next year. ----------------------------- This crap has been bought to you by the word ‘stress’ and the good folks at ‘Pronouns? Don’t Need No Fucking Pronouns Inc.’. N.B. Tian Xi has no interest in me whatsoever. This was merely a pitiful half-thought-out attempt at a running gag. N.B2. Very few definite articles were harmed in the writing of this piece. Where necessary stunt-articles were employed. Nuclear Sound Fragment Hedgehog Joyside Lonely China Day SUBS [back to Excessbloggage Archive]