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Published: 19 October 2007

Heard the one about the busload of lawyers that drove off a cliff? It's a Good News, Bad News/Mixed Emotions story. The good news is that the driver escaped uninjured. The bad news is that the bus was only half full. Another example. You're at home watching your team in a major cup final. You're mid-climax. You look up and see your team concede the only goal of the game in the dying seconds of extra time. Or, you're on the way to the Airport Arena for Nine Inch Nail's HK debut, and one mega motherhumper of a migraine kicks in on the MTR. Fun eh?

By the time I disembark, walking is causing auditory pain. The colours are bad rave day-glo. The curry I had earlier is rumbling in discontent. An outbreak of Delhi Belly seems imminent. I recognise a few faces in the crowd. Manek's here, with his posse, to shoot some pix. Old mate Martine (who I told about the show some weeks earlier) has made it. Other Lamma acquaintances are dotted around, (hi, Tamara).  I get a bottle of water. The last thing I need is a $50 cup of beer-flavoured froth (which you can't even take inside the hall with you). The opening act Love Song are making one hellacious racket. I've seen them a few times and they are worth listening to, but tonight it sounds to me like murky heavy-metal surf  mixed with seismic rubble-crushers. They're just thanking NIN for the privilege of being the opening act as I stumble inside the darkened hall.

Tickets for this show are one price - $580 - which means everyone can stand/sit where they like. There's a big crowd at the front of the stage. The sound desk is about 50 feet away. I'm sitting extreme-right back where the noise is tolerable and there's some light should I try to write anything. A piano-driven version of Lou Reed's "Satellite of Love" is playing. It ends, Nine Inch Nails amble on stage. A big mesh grid runs half the width of the stage. It's above and behind Trent's keyboards.  A second keyboard stack is to his left, the drum riser is to the right and the guitars are free to ramble on. The lighting is stunning. Shifting blue and orange flickers cut through the steady smoke, blurring and highlighting the on-stage action. "God is dead and no one cares", sings Trent. (least of all, me, thinks Nick)  Most of the new LP "Year Zero" is played over the following 45 minutes or so. The light show looks like 3 milky tubular beakers in which neon-blue shapes distort and fizzle. Sort of like genies in a bottle cross-bred with some of Dr. Moreau's weirder animal mutations or the cyber-Gremlin. As for the music, normally I'm a big fan of space-dub-electro-goth noise and NIN are putting on a show that make Muse sound like weedy folkies and I'm sorry, I've got to exorcise this curry and have a technicolour yawn...

...it's 15 minutes later and I am reborn! As any veteran acid head will tell you, the coming-on-rush can be too intense at times while the brain readjusts and then...Welcome Through The Star Gate! That's how I feel now. Time to stroll around. I bump into Dave and Paul (ex-n-bass-n-drums of The Academy, now doing some far-out d-n-b-fx weird shit under the original name of DP). Paul raves about the drummer (whose name is Josh?) The guitarist is from a band called A Perfect Circle. He seems the youngest member of this entourage. The bass player is the legendary Twiggy Ramirez, formerly with Marilyn Manson. I bet he's got another name for getting through passport control/customs. I'm not sure who the second keyboard player is. Sorry. Anyway, Trent is saying "...would have come here, like, 300 years ago if we knew how cool you people were. This is a song by Joy Division about killing myself". Can't remember the title, but the chorus repeats "...they keep calling me" The song segues into "Bite the hand that feeds you" and the electronic backing storm howls and wails and pulsates in atonal, metronomic fury. Trent, if you get the chance (and ever read this) check out a very cool Japanese collective called Joujouka. They are fucking awesome.
The End Is Nigh! NIN rampage through one of their earliest hits "Head Like A Hole" (with added possible venom towards The (Professional) Widow Cobain) and depart the stage. Trent is left alone, playinga soft keyboard melody. Yellow stars are cascading down the mesh behind him and dripping into oblivion. The last song he plays is "Hurt" and leads nicely into another one of those mixed emotions. How does he feel playing it when he knows in his secret heart that this song can never be his again? The definitive version of "Hurt" was recorded by the late Johnny Cash with Rick Rubin, and although Trent gave his blessing and appreciation, it's not really his song anymore. Mind you, he shouldn't feel too bad. The Man In Black did the same trick with U2's "One" as well! Anyway, gotta go. Missing you already NIN. Please come back again real soon won't you?

Review By Nick L.

Details

Published: 19 October 2007

I'm outside Volar in Lai Kwai Fong waiting for admission within. The 'Fong is heaving like a bad night in Caligula's Rome, but with worse dress sense. I've been drawn here for my first experience with Thomas Lorello - a 36-year old DJ with "the plat du nom" of Tommie Sunshine. It's his 3rd appearance in HK (and Volar) and the crowd should be heaving. The doors are meant to open at 2200. So, why am I still hanging around outside? Seems, things start slowly in the 'Fong (ha, they should come to my island and try Lamma Time!) The guest  list is being revised and updated. Cut to the chase: I'm on it. Thanx, Nick W. for coming through again! While waiting, I'm chatting with an affable Aussie called Antony Hamilton-Bram. He's a DJ on a leisurely world tour. He knows Tommie from the States and is confident he's on the guest list as well. At about 2230, the mellow Security bring up the book. I spot my name. I see Tony's as well, but the security don't. He has to stump up $200 to get in. Money well spent in a way, coz he gets a free beer ($61 for a Heineken) and I don't.   

There's hardly anyone inside and some rather dreary, mysogynistic rap being played by "the invisible dj". To me, it rather puts the "c" into rap. The place fills up slowly. Antony is here, there and everywhere. He dances slowly, busting some moves that were  way cool in 1973. Another couple are doing the sauciest samba, sans sex, that it has been my pleasure to observe in many a while. The rap has finished and DJ Anthony is up on the small stage, getting the show underway. The crowd is expanding rapidly. My spot up front is good and bad. I've got a table to jot down notes by the light of some floating candles (which are constantly going out as people light cigarettes off them) I'm right in front of the VIP box andthe curtain leading to the stage. Back to Anthony. He's laying down some of the sweetest, smoothest minimal mixes since Timo last came to town. Sounds ping-pong, mesh, coalesce, collide and vanish into each other as the beats get harder and slightly faster. He's showing some fine prog moves as well - enough to convince me he can weave his magic in sundry styles. (and, no I don't know what any of the f**king tunes are!) There's a great light show as well with bits of HK, cartoons, cyber-math graphics, little grey alien Teletubbies, wibbly-wobbly animated bands of light and your basic sensory overload. It's All Too Much as the Beatles used to sing in unhinged splendour. 

It's about 0045 and a sudden rush of anticipation. A bevy of beauties approaches and walks into the VIP stall behind me. Buckets and bottles of Veuve Cliquot arrive. Tommie is here with his #1 femme-fan (I think it's his girl-friend). Antony is spiralling the music into new space dimensions and the crowd are doing the "Wayne's World" not-worthy salaam. A screen comes down in front of the DJ decks. Tommie has disappeared from the booth. Some awesome car-crash/cartoon screech/skids are overlapping the other beats. Is Anthony showing Tommie the (mixing) ropes? When the screen rises, Tommie is alone on stage. Cyber-mirror shades that could deflect laser-beams. Trimmed salt-n-pepper beard and nipple length hair hanging down his chest. His bevy of beauties are bustin' some major moves on the "catwalk" in  front of the decks. It's Robotic aerobics versus Catwoman stretches. Mr. Sunshine has taken the music into harder, faster layers of cartoon dementia. His recent interview with David Momphard in the SCMP tells of his "fortunately-slash-unfortunately...pretty substantial pot addiction. So anything that is pot music is pretty fair game". It's like a day-glo whirlygig of treated beats and noise. Hissing teaketttles, cackles, syndrums from the 80's. His set mixes happy hardcore, helium frenzy, old disco lines, new wave, electronica, Belgian throbbing industrial, acid house, while random voxbites enslave the crowd. Why, the man is nearly as eclectic a DJ as me, although his beats, mixing and production are way more seamless and professional. 

Am meeting some top people here tonight. There's Max and Mark, "big fans of Ministry and Danny Tenaglia" who are sharing a spare bottle of  champagne with me. A special mention to Lucas who is trying to read my notes and writes down "I am Lucas. Just arrived. Nice to meet you. I AM DEAF." A lovely lady who seems to be called Veronica Spalf-Vich (according to my garbled notes) is radiant at tonight's happening. Another gorgeous lady called Dana scrunches up next to my bag and writes "I like his music" before leaving. You are in blessed company tonight, my dear. By the end of Tommie's set, I've had 2 beer bottles broken on my table, been doused in sticky liquor twice and necked a bottle and a half of the Veuve Cliquot. I feel I've made about 150 instant new friends who I hope will keep in touch (I really, really want to adopt all of you right now!) by reading this review. Tommie has played a mindf**k set for about 2 and a half hours. For me, he's put the orange into the Sunshine. He leaves, Morettts takes over (and how do you follow that?). I chat briefly with Mr. Lorello who says he's going to Shanghai next to spread the Sunshine vibe. I give him 2 Nixmixes to while away his time and float, float on, back to the YSW Ferry. Another mission accomplished.  

Review by Nick L.

Details

Published: 15 October 2007

Adam Freeland – Winter Music Festival 13/10/07

Venue changes meant the night ended up at the Regal, TST. In spite of this Adam Freeland managed to deliver a belter of a set and skillfully connected with the people.
Some UK pop anthem remixes – often huge tunes in the UK and global clubscene -  are a bit slow and laid back for the HK crowd who seem unsure of them.

He seamlessly, fearlessly blended a veritable fruit cocktail of sounds from indie and rock remixes, hip-hop, electro and his own trademark “e-drone”, to electro punk, minimal, bleeps and breaks, a spoonful of Pink Floyd for good measure and a drop of Mignight Oil to wash the ears! A smooth, fresh ride through the land of the free – next time let’s ask for his dirty set!

Review by Oz

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Published: 03 October 2007

Armada Tour with Armin van Buuren - 29th September 2007 

First things first; did the Armada Tour with World No. 2 DJ Armin Van Buuren meet the hype and anticipation preceding it?

Well in my book it sure did.  What a night!  Upon arriving large crowds had already gathered outside the once popular rave venue HITEC.  It seemed that most clubbers had to wait only 30 minutes before entering the halls.

To kick start the event DJ Dicky Lau got the venue rockin’ with some chunky progressive trance.  Next up Jason F and Seven pleased the crowd with a live violin performance over some phatt electro and progressive tunes.  The crowd went crazy especially the usual suspects perched on the front railings.

Armin rocked HITEC for 4 hours playing bangin’ hard trance with occasional electro influences.  The menacingly load speakers filled all corners of Hall B with his seamless mixing skills.  Overall, his musical journey and showmanship pleased most sweaty, gurning clubbers of all ages, even the teenage boy that kept randomly appearing throughout the night.

The only thing that caused mumbles and grumbles was the pathways laid out by metal railings.  It seemed as though routes leading between both halls and even outside kept changing.  Security staff were directing clubbers in different directions throughout the night.  Quite confusing!

Review by JJ.

Details

Published: 05 August 2007

I'm on the Airport Express which is just passing through Tsing Yi. Outside, dusk is, er "dawning" if you like. The sky is a swirl of black and blue, reminiscent of a rare rainless night in Blade Runner World. The landscape is studded with large indistinct blobs that can only be industrial factories. They're dotted with orange halogen pinpricks which seem smeary to me like Van Gogh's Sunflowers. The horizon looks like it would if you were, say, 20 miles high. It's stark, doomy, gothic, even. Just the right visual cue to set the mood for A Night With The Cure. (Monday 30/6/07) 

About 3000 people, ranging in style from just-left-the-office to near full-blown gothpunk, have gathered at the AsiaWorld-Arena for this debut show by the "Godfather of Goth", Robert Smith. The other 3 members of the quartet are Porl Thompson, who's Smith's brother-in-law, on lead guitar. Then, there's bassist  Simon Gallup and long-time drummer Jason Cooper. The stage is at the top of a large "U" with seats ranged around the other 3 sides and a dancing/standing room only area within the "U". The word is out that the Cure will probably do a 3-hour set. I've managed to spot Lamma acquaintances, Ciaran and Elinor, Chi, the drummer with local band The Sinister Left and Teddy. All say they're expecting a good show. The warm up tunes include "Einstein a Go-Go" by Landscape and "Run, Run, Run" by the Velvet Underground. Another track seems quite indie-baggie, with samples from the film "Performance" layered throughout. Quite an eclectic mix and a harbinger of glories to come. 

The lights shift at about 2015 and a loud space bass erupts from the stage along with some noodly guitar and atmospheric FX. Could almost be an ambient track on a Buddha Bar CD. It carries on for several minutes as the crowd round me desert their seats and rush towards the stage. The lyrics are obscure, but there's some mention of "House of Love" which draws cheers from the more aware fans. I've known of The Cure since their 70's inception, but am not fanatical about collecting everything. I'd say about 80% of this show is unknown songs to me plus a healthy dollop of "Bloody hell, I didn't know they did this song" at frequent intervals. I'm just hoping to hear "A Forest" and everything else is a double-plus bonus.  The 4th tune features some wonderful flamenco-style guitar and big thumpy drums over a snatch of vocals proclaiming "I'm paralysed by the thought (later blood) of Christ". The band seem to have caught the fine balance between a rock gig and a mega-rave, especially when I close my eyes.

The hits and big beats all come in quick succession. Basically the show veers from space-dub frenzy with guitars on stun to the quirky love ballads to gothpunkfunk. There seems to be about a 20-minute cycle of ups and downs, noise and quiet, rock and pop. Sometimes, Robert is playing guitar, sometimes he's striding to the sides of the stage to engage the fans while Porl and Simon bounce around energetically. Jason is sensational on drums. At times he recalls the late Pete deFreitas (of The Bunnymen) with ripples and rolls weaving through the song structure. Sometimes, there a Bonzo influence or a bit of Keith Moon whimsy as well. The light show is mainly the full spectrum of spotlights jabbing at the audience, winking in and out of existence. The big regret for me is that there are no video screens like there were for Muse and Roger Waters. 

A high point of the show has been reached. The band have done 14 numbers including "Without You" and Robert announces "Wrong day, wrong time" and everyone is promptly singing along to "Friday, I'm In Love". Triple horripilatory tingles all around and still the hits keep coming. Another snatch of lyric "...show me how you do it, I'll run away from you" sounds like vintage House of Love. Other tracks blend Bauhaus and the Mission while one tune descends through Eastern modalities and snarling guitars chasing their tails like a Siamese-twin-cat fight. Another track with the refrain "Never enough" could almost have been done by Aerosmith in their heavy druggy daze. There's Sabbath-style riffing and massive prog drums as Robert chants "don't let it ever rain" No, wait, now it's shivery Tinkerbell shimmers of guitar, straight out of the Flaming Lips. No, now it's gone all space Celticfolk, like the late lamented Horslips. The FX pedals are getting a major work out tonight folks. 

Another massive cheer as the refrain "wave after wave after wave" crashes round the hall. The band veers from some Primal Scream touches to glamrock goth as the strobes  flurry and fluster and disorientate.Robert is ranting about "...white, green and tangerine and I'm sick of orange" It's coming up to 2235 and Robert tells us "this is the longest set we've ever played in our fucking lives". By my (probably faulty) count, the band have played about 29-30 songs by the time they leave the stage at 2240. They return after 5 minutes to a greedy and unsatiated audience and Robert says "right, ready for another 3 hours?" Obviously a rhetorical question. There's another 6 songs to go, split over 3 encores. They include "A Forest" (finally!) and "Why Can't I be You?" (because there ain't no vacancies mate I think abstractly). The final encore includes "Boy's Don't Cry" and a chimy 80's style guitar track that sounds like an outtake from the "Pretty in Pink"  soundtrack. "And That Is It. Thank You Very Much" says Robert. The lights go on and The Cure have finished a stunning 3-hour show that touches all bases and firmly enhances their reputation. They're #2 in my Best Gigs of 2007. Roger Waters has still set the standard and Muse have dropped to #3 in the list. Now bring on Nine Inch Nails (and possibly Napalm Death!)

Review by Nick L.

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Published: 27 July 2007

It's Friday the 20th, but it feels like a re-run of one week earlier One of those house moves you feel lucky to survive, never mind want to do again. Still, there's brass in pocket and a ticket to see Paolo Mojo on The Renaissance Digital Asia Tour 2007. Our hosts are Magnetic Soul who recently provided Fabio with his HK debut. New Wanchai "superclub" Heat is the venue  It should be crowded tonight...

I've arrived at Heat about 2330 and bump into Manek who says old mate/clubber Karina is on the way. It's cool upstairs. Walk down a long corridor and there's the top of the T, comprising a small(ish) dance floor and elevated DJ booth. Reminds me a bit of the Technoir Club in Terminator. Can't see what magic is being performed, but I guess laptops and CD's are more likely than than clunky-chunky vinyl bags

The support DJ is weaving his magic early on. Lots of darkprog-cum-techhouse. What sounds like slurry Klingon vox samples are layered over humming organs, pulsing beats and the odd burst of clatterdrums. The sound changes to Herbie Hancock style retrosynths meet Yello-inspired cartoon keyboards. There are a lot of subliminal samples, waxing and waning. I always find these 'subs" fascinating to listen to. They seem to be pitched at the midway point where voice meets music.  Where 'tronic tones mutate into noisy notes. I have a brief debate with Karina on whether the vox sample is saying "think" or "freak". Another one later seems to change from "I've been banned" to "I'm in the band". Other punters may have their own favourite translations.

In a nutshell, Synecal's set veers from some of Sasha's spacy excursions to Eddie Halliwell's "Bosh"-era rapid-fire editing. The vocals are warped, pitchshifted, growling, keening, rising in frequency. Great whooshes of sound emerge like audio-fog, swamping the sparse audience. (There seem to be about 60 people here for most of the night. Pity, this is a stunning gig so far) There's whibblysynth-whispers, nice cut-n-paste changes in style, lots of emotional high-end kepyboard melodies. Drums, echo and fade over throbbing bass. Hints of "Funky Town" or "Come Together" (by the Beatles) twirl into Giorgio Morodor electro. Is this U2 remixed by Above and Beyond? Yes? No? Maybe? Writing these reviews sometimes, I'm reminded of Frank Zappa's maxim: "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture"

It's about 0230 and Sinycal is winding down. Karina's bobbing and bopping in and out of focus. Ditto Manek. The crowd isn't getting any larger. Let's start a new War On Audience Apathy!  He finishes with an explosion of Tonto's Expanding Headband-style of Moog mayhem. Liquid gurgling monophones in pleasing harmony die away... (If you're curious, TEH's debut LP "Zero Time can be downloaded. Do a Google search and enjoy the weirdness of 1971 electronic entertainment. That they later worked extensively with Stevie Wonder in his mid-70's fallow period shouldn't be held against them.)

There's a brief silence before Paolo starts. This is his 3rd trip to HK. He did a well-received set at Volar last year and I think I was the only gwai loh who saw his 2001 debut with Tom Stephan in a murky little 7th floor club in Causeway Bay. His set begins quietly (like these go to 6 instead of 11) but he soon kicks in. The digital sound is impressive at times. Great sunbursts of sound fill the room. It's the aural equivalent of eating Tingles (those sweets that crackle and fizzpop in your mouth). Sasha is evident again in the mix (the two of them have toured together). However, the DJ he recalls most is BLIM in all his eclectadelic majesty. There's ambient sound of birds twittering and little kid's voices fusing into electro-bleeps. The New Romantics of the mid-80's come to mind with the keyboards. At one point, a tune comes on that's a kissing cousin to the soundtrack from Zombie Flesh Eaters. It's complete with horrorvox, fleeing in all directions Sometimes, I feel that I'm hearing a full Technicolour performance after years of listening to music in black and white. The red and green swirly lasers add to the potential menace. They look like broken fluorescent worms at one point. No they're rectangles. No they're perforation lines slicing and dicing the dancers. (And NO smoke machines to choke up the floor) The only melody I recognise in his 3-hour set  is a sample from "Life In A Northern Town" by Dream Academy. Just one of many blissbreaks studded throughout the set.

Someone tells me that Paolo has lost his edge a little. "He was much better 2 years ago" If so, he must have been awesome.  I know he's better than 2001 and I'm enjoying tonight along with the other 60  or so hardy souls. The "techno-hobbit" as Karina's sister, Christian refers to him is playing in Singapore after HK. I'll bet he pulled in over a thousand fans there. They seem to do the big parties better there somehow. Thanks, Nick W. and Magnetic Soul for the ticket. And to keep the candy metaphors going, you put the Quality in the (Lockhart) Street tonight! See you at the Next Big One.

Review by Nick L.

Details

Published: 09 July 2007

Well, well well...it's been 10 years since we all turned Communist! Time for a Party eh? The Beijing Big Boys are Back in Town and it's pissing with rain (the more things change, the more they stay the same). Darren Emerson was in the frame for a Handover Party, but it never happened (what went wrong?) So, Derek and boys at Lotion put their heads together and came up with Takkyu Ishino from Japan, Ricky Stone (fresh from the fleshpots of Shenzhen) and local hero Jason. The venue is Western Market, where DJ Dan and Daft Punk provided a thrilling night out recently.

As I enter the building, I spot Manek chatting with a friend - "this is Tag" - a fan who's here to hear Ricky do his thing. Tag says he knows Ricky "from when we lived in HK". He's hoping Ricky isn't on too late as "I'm off to see Sao Paulo play Bayern tomorrow in the Reunification Cup and I need an early(ish) night". Almost right on cue, Ricky arrives with Dennis aka Turkish and Melinda. He beckons us to follow him upstairs and inside where Jason is behind the CD wheels of steel. My knee is aching so I grab a seat near the door and watch the Grand Parade go passing by. The ladies for the most part are dressed up although stylish caps, vests and jeans are on display. The guys are more baggy/crumpled in appearance. The DJ set up replicates the DJ Dan experience. Big dance area and the VIP's are in the minstrel gallery's to the left and right. I recognise some people from the previous show (hi, Alex from Canada and pals).

Jason seems to have tailored his set again. There's some nice whibblewhibble 'tronics overlaying a blend of future-retro 80's synth-cum-New Romantic background melodies. At times, it's like Sasha at Space versus the worst of Judge Jules and his fabulous homage to all things fromage (ie Cheese!) The vocals are slurry, sliding up and down the scales and shifting in pitch while hints of Ultravox, New Order, some proggy Yes or Barclay James Harvest unfold under the beats. Hell, there's even some sexy saxaphone at one point. The crowd is expanding rapidly - over 300 at this point - and seems in fine fettle although there are several severely overmedicated punters in my vicinity. These people seem to be approaching an Iggy Pop state of mind where they're having No Fun. Meanwhile Jason appears to be channeling Eddie Halliwell entertaining a Hawkwind audience. The music squirms and shapeshifts through prog/goth/symphonic/cosmic stylings and it's a far-out groovy fucker of a gig, man.

Ricky's on about 0100 and he maintains the twisted pace with a few more rock voxbites. Great sample from the Red Hot Chili Peppers comes and goes in a mutated frenzy. Or was it Annie Lennox? Maybe she's later in the set. Maybe I imagined it? No, my medication seems to be working fine. There's some serious stutter-drums worthy of John Creamer in full flight. There's the insistent nagging bass riff from Patricia Never Leaves The House which wanders in and out of several tracks for about 10 minutes or 2 months or whatever. Squeaky bleeps from middle space blend in and out of Vangelis meets Therion keyboard klatter. Jason and Ricky are now going back2back? Is that the term when they play about 15-20 minutes and interrupt each other's sets with the best of intentions? Whatever, it's working. Turkish is struggling through the crowd, but doesn't look like he's filming very much with his enormo-cam. Ricky whacks on a great sample of Iggy doing "I Wanna Be Your Dog" which he tells me later is a new bootleg of his. He's already played "Rapture" by IIO to -well- rapturous acclaim. My brain's on fast flashback to 2001. It's heavier than the original mix or the Paul Van Dyk remix with some muffled thunder drums reminiscent of Gary Glitter (when he was famous for his music and not his pervy lifestyle) The crowd is nudging 1000 or so and it's nearly time for Takkyo But first it,s a big hi to newfound friends Janine, Nikki, HaiGunn, Chris, Tak Wai and Jamie who've been wondering just what the fuck I'm writing for the past 40 minutes.
I'm next to Rob from Japan who informs me that Takkyu is "a bit old and middling" these days. He says there are younger DJ's in Tokyo who are much better, but don't get the exposure. Despite this tepid tribute, Takkyu revs it up a notch more. A "fuckfuckfuckfuck" sample, almost like techno-Moby, pounds out and his set is starting to veer towards the hard-edged beats of Westbam  and a more Berlin Love Parade Experience. The crowd is getting bigger and I'm  thinking of moving when Janek (who I haven't seen since the Carl Cox gig last December) finds me and escorts me upstairs. The VIP's do things in style. Bottles of Red Bull and Moet Chandon are everywhere. Everything is going great with Takkyu until 0425 and then The Shithammer Descends...

The music abruptly stops, the lights go on and it's another recurring episode of Pigs in Space. Yes, it's the well-timed Official License Check. I mean, what the fuck is going on. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is a legal gig. The DJ's have legal contracts. They're in HK legally. The Police are the one's who granted the license in the first place. Don't they know if their own licenses are in order? And if not, all it needs is one PC Plod to check it in the afternoon or before the show starts. Was it a noise complaint as some people were heard to mutter. If so, talk to the promoter quietly and say keep it down a bit. The noise isn't always that loud these days anyway. Possibly 80-90 decibels so as not to impair heari(pardon! What you say?)ng. I mean, this isn't a vintage Slayer gig where the volume is 140 decibels or more. Once the show has started this gig is legally no different from Opening Night of the HK Arts Festival! When was the last (first actually) time you saw that busted? The front 10 rows hauled away and breathalysed? Yeah, dream on. No, this is simple harassment by the police Because They Can. Perhaps they're trying to provoke a reaction to stop all future disco/rave/dance nights.

Full credit to all the fans inside who submitted to the silence with no small measure of dignity. Other places in the world, the Boys in Blue would have been slow roasted barbecue if they tried pulling this shit, but here everyone just sat patiently and waited them out. Maybe the simple answer is that they were just trying to make ends meet, Double or triple dibs for working over the holiday period. A chance to impress the Head Hogs during their brief grip-n-grin with our The Donald. The police left after an hour or so. No arrests were apparent, The fans won out and Takkyu played out the rest of his truncated set. Everyone went home sort of happy, except for Laura Norder who probably had to do a lot of paperwork. Tough shit. Overall, another fun night. Thanks Lotion and keep 'em coming. 

(Review by Nick L.)

Details

Published: 12 June 2007

Underground 46
9th June 2007
Venue: The Cavern
Bands:
Jane Eliz
Fantastic Day
The Yours
Spodac
 
I hurried to the bar as the weekends rain decided to start pelting down again and soon realized that when the advertisement for the nights gig said starting at 8, it really meant 8… so sorry Jane Eliz, I only caught your last song. I couldn't even concentrate on that as I was in dire need of alcohol and was having a hard time distracting the bar tender from chatting to the bar maid. FYI: the bar staff at The Cavern are shit. Most of the crowd started to drift into the bar throughout the second act: Fantastic Day. As only being exposed to local Hong Kong bands over the past 2 weeks I still didn't have much of an idea what to expect… I was hoping for a little more than this. They sounded like a band stuck for knowing what sound exactly they're trying to accomplish. I can only describe it as drab eighties rock with a weird psychedelic edge to it… and not in a good way. I think the peculiar psychedelic accent simply came from trying to play an improvisational keyboard, to make up for not being able to play it properly. They're strumming along harmonies got abruptly overtaken by the lead singers out of tune whining. His vocal chords actually reminded me of Daniel Johnston, just without the unique painful overtone that made Johnston's childish cries bearable. To some it up it sounded like a 13 year old discovering his dads Smiths records and creating his own adaptation of the depressed Brit rockers.
 
Damn, I said I was only going to try and write positively about HK's music scene, but to counterbalance that brutal commentary, the 3 rd band of the night is my vindication. When I saw these guys get on stage wearing what can only be described as attire so colorful and baggy MC Hammer wouldn't take you seriously, I was thinking… Shit I dunno what I was thinking except "these guys look f**ked!". They are The Yours, and they have some of the best on stage presence from a local band I have seen. They seem to be a parody of themselves, and they are not afraid to experiment which is great, and what I would say more bands need to do in an age where a new genre of music is developing every week. Essentially their music is punk rock with this electronic edge to it brought by the synthesizer taken in turns to work with by the bands two singers. The crowd clearly enjoying the music, and I get the impression The Yours are the reason for them attending the night. They're sound; especially what I assume to be they're hit track Tasteless is, to an extent, reminiscent of The Pixies. They have only been together a couple of years, which at times shows, but if these guys keep at it, keep pushing the experimental edge, they could be pretty interesting in another couple of years time. I recommend checking them out.
 
From experimentation to: heard it / been there / done that / please shoot me now music. Spodac , which maybe if your into eighties bland American rock you may like it. I personally would rather have a slow and painful death… Ok sorry I'm being too harsh, positive criticism: They're musicians are not untalented, so maybe they would make a good cover band but if they insist on performing they're own material maybe they should also try to develop they've own sound, because for me there was nothing that stood out, at all. It made me have images in my head of American truckers enthusiastically playing they're stereos at full blast, knowing all the lyrics, and singing it even worse than this guy in front of me now. Or maybe I was just getting irritable from having to stand all night. I left (fled) through they're last track and went to Yum La to get drunk… that mission was extremely successful.
 
Review by Robin J