I hung around Rome for one more night (or was it two?) and took it easy. I decided to hit Naples once more, there was just one more little thing I needed to do there, and BOB LOG III was playing a gig that Massimino organized -- which meant that I got to see his hilarious one-man-band play: NUMBER 71 BAND. Card number 71 is the card, in that Napoletan card game, which signifies shit. So Massimino in this band is the uomm'e merd', which is Napoletan for "man of shit", and which when spoken sounds something like "one man band" if spoken by a belligerent, drooling drunk. Always fun, and definitely worth looking up... he's on myspace...
Next day I flew to Amsterdam, into the best weather of the year. The Dutch summer, they joke, lasts about two weeks. It usually starts around Queens Day (end of April) and lasts sometime into May. When I arrived it was bea-fucking-utiful and Amsterdam seemed like some sort of fairy-tale wonderland... even with the almost constantly grey weather it's still one of the most beautiful towns you could imagine. But when the sun is shining, everyone gets out their grills and shorts and tank tops and just flops their asses onto the nearest patch of green (Amsterdam is full of parks) to soak it up. The Dutch capitol becomes a world of smiles... except for me. Why? Because my return to Amsterdam was soooo full of fun parties (at night) and friends who I haven't seen in awhile who, in the fine barbaric beerswilling Dutch tradition, immediately buy a beer for me and put it in my hand, that I barely saw the day. I woke up each day, never before 2pm or so, with painful hangovers. And when I got out into that sun, which is somehow stronger on those rare occasions that it decides to shine here, I wasn't loving soaking it in -- quite the opposite. Also because since I've spoiled myself over the last year (spending four months in South America while all of these poor souls here were pedaling their wet asses through freezing winds and hail) the sunshine didn't seem so special to me.
I had a blast, and mostly neglected what I should have been doing, which was finding a place to work and a place to live in this town, since my intention is to settle here... or probably better said, to establish Amsterdam as my European home base. And before I knew it, it was time to leave for Madrid...
Bjoern (aka Bone) is a friend of mine from here in Amsterdam, and we were both called upon to play records at the Go Sinner Go festival in Madrid. Strange name it's got, but it's a good time. Let's get the quips out of the way: the club is great, but the staff was fucking uptight and the soundman didn't have a clue. And organizers Edu & Marta are looking for a new place for next year. Nevertheless, it was still a great party, with plenty of great bands. I'll name the ones that I remember most: THE RIPPERS, who as usual, destroyed; WAU Y LOS ARRRGHS!!!, for whom it wasn't the best show of their 'careers', but it's always great to see them (maybe if they had played second, or last, which would have given them more time to, uh, warm up backstage, they would have been hotter); HANGEE V, fuzz-drenched, instro-surfin sards that somehow I never saw play in all my visits there; and THE GORGONS, aging fun Frenchies.
Since we were DJing, Bjoern and I stayed each night until the bitter end of the party, and of course, ended up ridiculously drunk, and when we were finally ushered out of the building always had a posse of others with us... with whom we roamed the streets of Madrid looking for another place to continue the party. It's not an uncommon ritual... and I was armed with a GP-3 and a box of 45s. But we were all a bit too wasted. Here's a couple of scenes from the metro ride:
Okay, I think that's all I've got time for tonight.... ha ha..... I'll write more later about Madrid (which is a great!!! town!) and what's happenin' here in Amsterdam. G'night
