Saturday, July 19, 2008  

 

Hey Hey Yo man Yo Yo. Remember these guys House Of Pain. H.O.P. Yes these horrible white guys with that very commercial shite song called “Hop Around”. Well lucky, They do not hop around anymore. Jesus! did I had a bad experience with these Fascistic Asholes. Yes I am not ashamed neither shy to say that. Do not get tough on me because you like them and their later solo projects. This is Opinion Man! We are all free to have them, and about HOP I have a Strong one. Respect! I have lots of support of Buddies in the Rap scene. People who would respect open mind and freedom of opinion. There are The Pharcyde, Prince Paul, My buddies from The Goats, “Bam” Afrika Bambaataa,…… Don’t believe me, surf this site and find out! Back to HOP.
Was on the road with my buddies “Consolidated”. A great open minded band that mixes rock/electrics and rap together with a cool political critical message. The tour was nice and long. Main part was a stretch were we double-billed with HOP. We peaceful people arrived at the first show, together being cool and supportive. It was obvious that after HOP saw our first show they turned extreme un-cool. We both had our own bus. Next day it was July 4^th, we arrived at the Longhorn, a venue in Stuttgard, Germany. HOP arrived before us and was checkin’ their turntables and mics. Everlast (one of the HOP rappers) was on purpose testing the mic, rappin’ for hours by himself, aware of taking our build-up and checking time. As Pro we are, we did it anyway. The show starts, and ofcourse Consolidated raps one of their great political critical songs “America No. 1”. A Big Hit the buddies in the audience were so anxious to hear, enjoy and sing along.
Next day we arrive at the next venue in Offenbach. The manager of HOP contacts our manager at arrival. HOP does not want us to play with them anymore! What???? Reason: Consolidated played an anti-America song on July 4! Jesus what a dummies. So what is wrong with being critical with people who start useless wars, let buddies die of
starvation, spread drugs around, a.s.o.? July 4^th is THEE day to sing songs like that. It even got worst. The HOP rappers behaved like infantile little kids, came out of their bus dressed up in military clothes. So un-cool and NOT tough whatsoever. This did not scare us. Danny and Everlast looked like FOOLS. Since that day this band means nothing to me anymore, never listen to Danny or Everlast again. They Neverlast!


Friday, July 18, 2008.



Early 80ties. Do not exactly remember the year. The magical 1984? We went on tour in Spain with Pandemonium and No Pigs, a punk band from Amsterdam. They had most of the contacts and booked the shows, we joined. It was a short, about a week, trip. Jack (driver) had no time so Ger came along. A very good friend of mine. Sadly passed away in 1997. No Pigs rented van and gear in Amsterdam. Since we were located more south, in the direction of Spain, they picked us up. We dropped our guitars, drumsticks and sleeping bags in the van and of we were.
Most memories of the trip are dissolved, as usual (again). Assumedly due to converting the drink-tickets. One town with two events I remember clearly.
We played a few bigger towns and some village. One village was near to Pamplona. An absolute memorial show. Friendly people, small cozy gig-room. We had a great time. Punk-rock outfit was still a futuristic thing on the Spanish countryside in those days. We (Pandemonium and crew) look very normal. No Pigs was dressed as the latest punk-rock fashion, also of-stage. Maarten, the singer, was a big guy in leather jacket and torn-up jeans. Waking up late morning we wanted coffee. Strolling the village streets a coffee and cake place got located. Inside light green tables dressed with pink cloths, fragile chairs, flowers, ice-cream, cookies, bonbon’s and tea. We walked to the glass-show-counter, ordered coffee. Our present caused some unrest with the few (only female) other guests. Zipping the absolute necessary morning-crack we noticed a small crowd walked up outside. Checking outdoors it was for us. The outfit from Maarten did so not fit into the sweet coffeeshop. Some older ladies must have been shocked, and gossiped the scandalous news around. In no time the village walked out to witness this “crime”. Probably it’s still a subject during summer-evening meetings under the big tree on the village square.
No Pigs versus Pandemonium is a very good example I was talking about many posts ago. The “heavy punk-look” against the “innocent school kids” Got pictures of the same gig here. See the amazing difference. Soon Pandemonium music on this site, so you can hear what does so “not fit” according to “average accepted standards of cool looking”, with what you see. Probably Pandemonium sounded heavier than No Pigs.


........................................No Pigs............................................ Pandemonium

Next day was off. No gig, no drive. Pamplona is in the mountains, the Pyrenees. We though it was a good idea to go out in nature, get some fresh air, do a bit exercise. With some local girls as guides we drove up. It was a great experience. Came back more often in the Pyrenees after this day. It’s a beautiful, rough nature wonder. Great mountains wrapped in an air of silence and peace.
We started to climb. Not difficult. Followed a path. No rough climbing involved. But it was going uphill all the time. For some of us this was too much. They stopped and waited for others to return.

Mountains always attracted me. Another reason for me to move. Maybe weird for a born lowlander. “Der Berg Ruft”


Thursday, July 17, 2008.




Metall Tanz was one of the bands I played in. It was early 80ties. Performed in several bands during the 70/80ties. Was I good? Probably not, and still not brilliant. But for any form of pop related music this is not important. The energy counts.
German band-names were popular in that time. Everybody came with English names, so not cool. French was too snobby. German sounded solid, modern and new. Anyway, our “hometown” was at the German border. We grew up with two languages, so why not!
Metall Tanz was 4 people: Floor, Johnny, Pino and me. The band had the exact right ingredients to mean something. A solid rhythm section: Johnny on drums. A charismatic frontman: Floor on vocals and bas, inbetween all that were Pino on percussion and me: guitar and percussion. Like most underground bands in that time we were playing strong rhythmical orientated music with industrial/funk/rock influences.
Our rehearsing space was the basement of the Martinusstraat (see Limbabwe History link). Floor, Pino and I were living in the same house. Johnny was the “outsider” in the club. Besides acting the “creative political correct punk rocker” amusing ourselves with cops, we jammed regularly in the basement. The most fun band I ever played in. Somehow it must have appealed to others. We got some real gigs in qualified rock clubs. Ofcourse mostly as support band, but the crowd liked us. At least, they never boo-ed us. Supportive handclapping was mostly heard of the stage.
Here a not so great picture. Floor’s face is covered by the bas. Pino is more to the right, out of the picture. But hey, ain’t I young and “cute” rockin’ my guitar?

Weird, we never did a studio recording session.
Do not remember real fun stories from the Metall Tanz period. Massive alcohol abuse sweeps out memory.
Metall Tanz was only together for a short but intense period. What broke us up, I do not know. Think it had something to do with the relation between Floor and Pino. Besides the pictures I still have many rehearsal and live tapes. Another Limbabwe release?


Wednesday, July 16, 2008.



Regular readers figured out I am reorganizing and cleaning. Sorting things out again. Has to be done now and than. Once a year I go through all Limbabwe masters and multi tracks that are saved. Rewind, play parts, glue, clean.
Most Limbabwe releases are recorded in the basement of the club Bauplatz/OOC, in Venlo Netherlands. Don’t look it up. Do not even bother to go there. All is gone, so is also the great inspiring-driven underground scene of those days. They are either death, in mental hospitals, moved or simply got old and worry about grandchildren. Generations after were not capable to keep equal kind of high creative-energy going, so Little Venlo is back to its middle-class boredom. Still in those days, late seventies/early eighties we had a great time.
The Bauplatz basement had a very low ceiling and bad acoustics. I could barely stand in it. In the seventies somebody made a wall with glass window. The worst sounding (every recording was a gamble) control room, was born. In the beginning we recorded on 4 track TEAC reel to reel, Dynamix mixer, few really cheap bad gates and compressors (so bad, I never used them) and one delay unit. The stage monitors functioned as mastering play-back. We recorded all early Pandemonium songs like that. First two tracks drums, track 3 bass and track 4 guitar. After the multi track recordings I did the mix on a Tascam two track. While mastering the vox was added, live directly on the master. Wow, those were the days. All original pressings go for ridicules amounts on EBay right now. Still have the instrumental multi tracks. Was thinking to release a new cassette “Matski Sings All You’re Pandemonium Favorites”. Featuring the original Pandemonium members! Ha, Ha.
The 4 track got replaced by a Tascam 8-track. Investments in better mixer, more fx and a usable compressor. The gates stayed bad, but became a great “industrial-experimental” machine for my individual projects. The complete “ Bauplatz scene” experimented a lot in that time. Not only within the musical range of instruments, chords a.s.o. The purchase of the 8-track opened a new world for most of us. We experimented with endless layovers, dubs, inbetween mixes. In the live-room everything that could make sound became an instrument. By the handy-man welded steel ashtrays (thanx Walter), turned into weird steel-drum style percussion instruments. To be heard on many Limbabwe tracks. Myself freaked with the 8-track a lot. Recorded songs as if 30 people were involved. Created loads of industrial music. Hearing it again, probably Genesis, Blixa, Janni, Paul,…… would get jealous. Me too shy to release any of that material, realize now I made the same (similar) music. Oh well, probably the complete generation was experimenting. We didn’t know eachother. PTV, Einsturzende Neubauten, Laibach, Test Dept,…. were in their first days, or didn’t even exist yet.
These exciting years died a slow death as it always does. Everything must pass. The studio and club is gone. All what is there are some memories of old farts, a few pictures, some amateur films and the tapes that I am rewinding right now, for the yearly maintenance. Not for long anymore, folks. Most master tapes are gone. Despite my care, they got old, rusty, sticky. Vaporize due to atmospheric conditions. Sometimes a tape snaps. Saved some old white splicing-tape-dispenser. Glue both ends together again, knowing its useless. Lucky the cassettes recordings preserved very well. Anyway, I copied all tapes before it was too late, on better, recent formats. The music will still be available for a while.


Tuesday, July 15, 2008.





Cables, cables, cables. Do not how this is in you’re house, but these fuckin’ cables are a pain in the as. They are everywhere and you need them for everything. Underground, in the air, walls, floors, over doors, stuck in windows, glued in corners, stapled on plinths or just loose lying on the floor. For internet connection, tel, tv, stereo, speakers, heating. And even more if you are in music. Mic cables, fx cables, connecting cables for tape recorders, mixers, guitars, synthesizers. Midi cables, ADSL cables, USB cables, multi cables. Whaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!!. And they are always in my way. Tripp over them, have long fights unfolding. Whatever you do to keep them straight; hang , roll-up,…... It does not work. Find myself unfolding the most impossible knots everyday, sorting out spaghetti every week.
Every other half year I reorganize the cables. “This never needs to be changed anymore!” I think proudly after the job is done! Sure, within a few months all leads are replaced, repaired, rerouted,… until it became a mess again. Wireless is no solution. Only a few cables can be replaced by air signal. Too much wireless means cross-signals, interruptions, breaking up, sounds from other broadcasts plus the neighbors might (not) enjoy half of what you do through their satellite tv.
The worst is Coax cable (mostly used for tv/video). Who ever invented that should be killed. The cable is impossible to cut, fold and jumps wild and dangerous in all kind of directions. Coax sucks! I will start the ACL (Anti-Cable-Lega). A terrorist group that violently fights cables.
Did I think to be smart. Reformed all equipment on a desk in the middle of my studio room. Could walk around, reach all machines easily from front and back to connect or disconnect. Great idea! After about 8 months total chaos. Today I changed the complete room over again. Re-connected, and decided to use lesser equipment, need lesser cables. You can read in yesterdays post, I go and dump shit I do not use. A list on this site soon. Throw the cash at me, you will receive ancient collectors crap!
My retirement will be a house in the middle of nowhere without electricity.
No electricity, no equipment, no cables. Sounds like a great life!


Monday, July 14, 2008.




Got to get lighter. Have too much rubbish. All that shit I carry with me for years, most of it I never use. Mainly music stuff. From instrument parts to tapes. All these tapes gotta go, need some space. The only reason why I kept them is because they are unique. Gigs recorded by myself being the FOH engineer of the show. Looking at the pile, it is barely 1% of all the shows I did. Most were never taped. Sometimes I slid a cassette or DAT in the bay and pressed record.
Ignored almost all these recordings. It was just una momento in life. Fuckin’ hey, so many gigs. Often, after the show, I handed the tape to a bandmember. That’s probably why I end up with just a few. Coming home from tour dumped the recording in a box without ever listening to them. Play them all now. Most tapes for the first time! The last week only heard live-gigs from 1979 on. I am half way now. Do not play them chronologic, simply whatever next tape comes up, goes on. The cassettes preserved astonishing well. No sign of time at all, even the over 20 year old ones are in excellent shape.
This collection is a great document of popular underground music over the years. The many unique moments make it a valuable piece of art. You hear Consolidated play Voodoo Chile or, absolute special; perform “You Suck” by the 3 male members themselves, no Yeasty Girls. This was almost never done. There is Steve Albini covering a 70ties disco tune, a.s.o…..
These tapes also dig up memories. More stories for future posts. Personal, funny interaction between me and the band (Once after correcting a mic on stage, I did a little dance in front of the crowd, mid-stage, that was in Rome, Consolidated gig). The Prince Paul tapes are the most surprising. How could I forget about them? This crew was so nice and we had such a great time. They made a complete rap song “Mat the Scarf” that got performed every night. Good memories, but hey…. Live goes on.
Most recordings are reasonable quality. Some straight of the board. Bit out of balance. The loud-on-stage guitar player problem. Recordings result is very loud drums, vox and FX. Other tapes are recorded by mic. Many are very good sounding, but ofcourse not like an official multi track cd.
These tapes are special. Nobody has a copy, I never made copies for friends. Until today nobody, except me, even knew these recordings existed. Often not even the artists. I am going to sell them. Will never play them again, so why keeping them absorbing space! Its worth something, I know. All tapes are unique. I do not throw them out just like that for some cash. You wanna have a Steve Albini gig from the late 80ties (Rapemen)? A Test Dept show in the smallest club ever? I can assure the uniqueness of the tapes, but communicate first. I give Limbabwe site visitors a first chance, write to me -email- We communicate, let you know what I have. Otherwise the complete thing goes to the well known online sale pages. Be aware. This is for private use only. Public use means dealing with legal matters. Enuhhh hey you oldies, do not worry, I keep the Limbabwe tapes/masters/originals. As I am obliged to be the maintainer, until the end.



Sunday, July 13, 2008.




Saturday, July 12, 2008.



Oh yeah, its horrible….., these sound-technicians always rapping in their coded language about equipment. Hate it myself and mostly avoid those conversations. Sometimes I like to blow of about great old analogue equipment used by myself. Here a story:
It was during a Gogol Bordello or Firewater tour in the USA. Don’t remember which of the 2. Somewhere in a mid- America town with Oren, guitar player in both bands. We killed our time hanging in music stores. Not common for me, but hey, it was the only thing to do in the shopping strip. After wanking some guitars, pedals and such we went out strolling the street. Bit further was a pawn shop. Why not! Musicians are poor people. Pawn shops are full with cheap musical equipment. In a glass display cupboard I saw a Big Muff II Electronic-Harmonix/Sovtek distortion pedal. Got a bit exited. It was the big army-green pedal, made in Russia. All original parts still on it. Only thing missing the little lit on the back that closes the battery compartment, not a major prob. The Sovtek Big Muff has massive turning knobs on a big piece of strong steel that the heaviest metal-boot cannot crush. An absolute beauty not only to see but also hear!


Being obsessed by distortion sounds (ever listened a The System track?), wanted to test the thing. It sounded perfect. A real Big Muff sound. Oren was exited to, but I saw it first. Russian Big Muffs are not “ancient”. The first pre-Big Muff was played by Jimi Hendrix, who made it popular so a USA factory started to manufacture them. After a bankruptcy the factory had a re-start early 90ties in Russia. This big green Big Muff was one of the first Russian models. The Big Muff is a popular pedal since the seventies and responsible for the basic of a few rock-cult-sounds (f.e. Grunge). I am not very impressed by what most musicians manage to get out of it. Besides Jimi Hendrix, it was only Kasper Brotzman (see a post way back months ago in the “old Post” link) who could make it create a fine distinguished personal sound, in my opinion. Proves that music (and sound) is in the musician, not instrument, pedal or amp. Back to the pawnshop. The price tag said $ 50 (With original wooden box). In pawn shops you can bargain. “This is too much” I told the store-owner, “In the music store down the street they cost $ 45 brand new”! “What do you want to give for it?” he replied. I offered $ 25. He looked at me with disbelieve in his eyes and called the music store. They confirmed the price of $ 45 for a Big Muff. What the pawnshop guy didn’t know is that the new ones are cheap, modern USA made re-issues. Not even close to the special design of this big old green thing. We agreed on $ 30. As I walked out I heard him yelling: “wonder with what kind of ancient thing I got ripped-of here”. And he was right. Checking the web today I saw that they go for Euro 125 ($ 160), used. A forum informed that the prices of this model are only rising. I am not going to sell (yet), still want to enjoy myself and bother the neighbors a bit longer with it.


Friday, July 11, 2008.



Records you like but hide. Episode 2 (go back more than a week in the posts for episode1). “The Sound Of Music”. Either you get a stroke or burst out in hateful laughing, yes! Proudly I announce to be an owner of a “Sound Of Music” vinyl. Not a collector’s item. Billions are pressed. You get them for 25 cents at the flee-market. I even have 4 SOM (Sound Of Music) vinyls. An old scratched one, almost unplayable, replaced by a better copy. That makes 2. On that same flee market I found a cover version, lyrics in Dutch language. Thought it was funny. Mistake. Absolute horrible, an insult to the original. The fourth, also 20 cents, is a lounge jazz quartet playing variations on SOM themes.
SOM was a popular musical and film, especially in the 60ties, standing time until today. Fanclubs, sing along gatherings, dressed up parties, all still exists. You’re mom is probably a member. SOM was one of the biggest Hollywood successes ever. Let’s stay with the record. The music and lyrics are by Rodgers and Hammerstein. Its not really one of the most brilliant music pieces created. What does it are the catchy, easy to remember, tunes. In my childhood SOM music was unavoidable around in the family. Memories are the main reason to own a copy.


The record opens with whistling birds, same type that announces every start and end of the day here. After a kind of intro (prelude) the theme song starts. Acceptable, but the record quickly develops in a typical musical soundtrack. Songs are not independing tunes. You have to see the scenes to understand. A cheesy nun’s choir attempts Gregorian chapel singing, stiff imitated. No flow, bad harmonizing followed by chattering about Maria. “I have confidence in me” is the first real song. Pitty, next track “Sixteen going on Seventeen” strands as a sully adolescence statement as if women emancipation never happened. “My Favourite Things”, well known for the easy string of chords, interesting enough for John Coltrane to adapt and create memorable improvisations. Side one ends with the highest moment of the record. Mother Abbess sings “Climb Ev’ry Mountain”. A bombastic anarchistic message performed by a nun character (Peggy Wood) in “opera-diva” style. They had some cynical humor that time. It became my most favorite moment of the record. B side; two weak “musical style” moments followed by the even worst “Do-Re-Mi”. Obvious no time to come up with better lines than “ti, you drink with jam and bread”. “Something Good” is the only reasonable song. After that the nuns start again followed up by “Edelweiss”, a dull “schlager” about country adoration. The record closes with “so long farewell” followed by a grand finale version of “Climb Ev’ry Mountain”. If it wasn’t for this song the musical would be worthless. SOM ‘s story takes place in the beginning of the Alps. Many scenes are filmed on location in the early Northern Alps. Landscape very similar to here, the South side. Sometimes, when the morning sun chases the last fog away, I play SOM. A perfect soundtrack to the scenery.



Thursday, July 10, 2008.


The Northern part of the Balkans, close to Austria and Italy, has a kind of “inbetween” frustration. Not wanna be East, but totally brag-of about the culture. Wanna join West, but behaves too underdog to be. An interesting study for psychologists. Basically it doesn’t matter. It is what it is. The combination of both creates colorful situations that I turn into stories to tell friends on drinking nights.
This place has only one photoshop, just taken over by youngsters. Dropped a film there earlier, came back in the afternoon to collect the results. 2 people in the store waiting. In the back room (door open) clearly a conversation between a girl and boy. Shop door opened, someone else came in, and again door opened, more people joined. The buzzer to alarm the employees that customers arrived went of a few times. The small store got crowded. None of all this stopped the voices from the backroom, or activated an employee. We all stood there, patiently listening to the conversation (I could barely follow). My mind drifted off. A flashback to the old Yugoslavian days. Visited a photoshop. 4 employees, 4 counters: for film, camera, deliver/pick up and cash register. Standing in the silent, empty store, nobody of the bored looking salesmen showed interest to assist the only customer.
Back to now and here. It all felt so traditional Balkan. Nobody cared either, not the store owner (no competition), not the customers (trained in the old days), not me (got used to this). It was comical. Suddenly no more talking. The girl came from the back, faced surprised than arrogant the store crowd and rushed out. The guy appeared from behind spotting me first. He mumbled “oh yeah, pictures on a cd…”. It wasn’t even my turn. 2 people were before me. Oh well, to much chaos to explain. Clumsy he grabbed an envelope. Realized the negatives were still a roll. Nervously pushed the film through a slicer. Charged me barely enough to cover the cd. I paid and left.
Yesterday a rock band from Brooklyn gigged on the town square (“how the hell did you end up here”). Spotted the photostore employee. “Alexsi” he introduced himself. We went for a drink. “So”, I asked him, “what was that all about?” “I remember” he replied, but not exactly the conversation in the backroom. It was not his girlfriend neither an argument.
Spoonman always says that foreign languages you don’t understand sound like singing. The language here sounds more like fighting. Often I think people argue, after asking, it seems to be a friendly conversation.
Returned from tour with Laibach when borders still appeared. Arriving at customs, something was going on between Laibach members and the border patrol. Few band members went out the bus. The conversation sounded like stressed arguing. Although being the TM, I thought better not interfere. Do not speak the language. Sudden English from a stranger might fuck-up the situation. Border employees are not hired by IQ. When the bus finally could pass and everybody was back in, I asked what that was all about. “Oh, nothing special, they asked for an autographed cd”.


Wednesday, July 09, 2008.



For my whole life I collect vinyl records. No, not interested in the discussion about better or nicer. Simply a preference. On the other hand I cannot restrain my love for analogue recordings and therefore sometimes point out the advantages of this music carrier in this article.
My vinyl collection is not extreme big. Approximately 1000 records. Not much for somebody of my age who collects his whole life. Prefer a compact and personal favorites gathering. Records come and go. Many purchased enthusiastically but do not seem to please that much anymore after a while. In my younger years I made the mistake completing collections of favorite artists. Later realizing these artists produced only 3 worthwhile releases, the rest is rubbish, made to fulfill contractual obligations. Do not expect that the “complete-collection” is worth money. Millions were pressed, only a few want to have them now. Go online. Find out.
Last week online. Blog about Neil Young’s “Time Fades Away”. According to many “the Holy Grail” of his releases. Only pressed once in the early 70ties. Never officially re-issued on cd! The record is horrible. Bad played and recorded live tracks. But assumedly billions pressed that first (and only) time. Online markets I found the vinyl. $ 9.99, used, perfect condition. Another one had even no bid whatsoever 0.00. Discovered easily a bootleg cd and free download. It was all there. That’s it for the “Holy Grail”.
End 80ties, the cd pushed vinyl almost away. On the road with Test Dept (see yesterday). During a break I used the time record shopping. Purchased just released vinyl of Neil Young’s “Ragged Glory”. A period the industry dumped vinyl as “the last years of this format”. Produced with lesser care. The complete “cd” release pressed on one record. Therefore thin grooves, scratched quicker and “thinner” sound. Back on the set some crew member disst me for buying vinyl. “Almost the 90ties, Mat, get a fuckin’ cd player”! In the 90ties I had to deal with many of these dumb remarks. Also here, south of the Alps, vinyl is looked upon as something ancient what “we modern people” do not do. Meanwhile in this decade the real obsessed music listeners and lovers, found out that vinyl is the best format. Besides the great dynamic and warm sound, you have a real product in your hand. Mechanical made! You can see the sound-waves (grooves). Vinyl can still be played without electricity (that’s how it started). Cd, mp3 is just some bitts that must be converted into music. Cover artwork looks so much better on a record sleeve. Some smaller indie labels, probably run by vinyl freaks, started to press good quality records of cd releases. Mostly spread over 2 plates in one sleeve. The space allowed wider grooves. Made music sound even better and more dynamic. Plus, often because of space left, extra bonus-tracks, not released on cd! Used records-store owners told me most sold records are from the jazz and classical music section. The more serious music! This was not related to an older age group. The major industry became aware of a never-disappeared market.
So here we are 2008. 5 minutes to twelve for the definite death of the cd. Yep, the cd! I say it again; the cd we know as a pre-recorded music product will be gone soon. Cdr will stay for home use file burning. The major industry decided. Making and promoting a hard (cd) product is nowadays too much of an investment with the endless come and go of popular artists. Many releases do not sell. Profits are going down. From now on only downloads. For the real music freak who mainly prefers “hard” product, vinyl will be made. Don’t believe me? It is already happening.
See the advantages. Finally pop music is where it belongs. Lots of music is only made for light mass-entertainment (also indie guitar, metal, rap, soul a.s.o.) I have no problem with mass entertainment and am very happy finally the carrier is found were it belongs, a meaningless temporary passing thing, just some bitts easy to delete. Second advantage is for the small music producer. No more investments in expensive pressings. You can throw you’re music online and make it even accessible for free! Maybe, finally someone listens!
Best part: Vinyl survives again. Did you also notice the upcoming return of the cassette tape lately? That’s another post. Anyone who disst me the last 20 years for my vinyl’s still some comments?


Tuesday, July 08, 2008.



My best learning school for FOH sound-engineering was working with the UK band Test Dept in the 80ties. An absolute weird, but funny freak and drunk with the name Jack, was doing this job before me. He “mysteriously” disappeared of the scene (later rumors: got married, wife and kids). I took over. These were not my first tours. Already numerous experiences learned me working the desk. Crew-colleagues on these TD trips didn’t teach me much either. It was the challenge, dare and own guts trying to deal with something that looked like an impossible situation.
Test Dept was a very unusual band. Their instrumentation was a compilation of all different kind you can imagine. From self build to non-instrument sculptures to modern high tech sound machines. They went out to scrap yards looking for good sounding steel objects. Size, weight had no restriction. Instruments were made out of smaller pieces of scrap steel. F.e. a big iron alpine horn. Then there were traditional instruments like bag pipe, Spanish drums and cello supported by often more than one traditional rock drumkit.
On top of that electronics: synthesizers, sequencers programs. And to finish it of, a 4 track tape recorder I had to operate as well from the FOH desk(s).
So here I was, sitting in my FOH area, all alone, looking at a 6 meter (18 feet) knobs and faders. We added two mixing desks together; mostly Yamaha PM 3000. 40 channels per desk. On the end of this long stretch FX’s, inserts and the tape machine. 62 microphones on stage + line inputs. If I looked up to the stage I saw a symmetric organized chaos of big steel tanks and dishes, drums, a self made marimba on the side, the earlier mentioned alpine horn on the opposite side. And this was not all the torture…..
Test Dept had the habit to perform “on location”. Meaning, you do not play in a regular venue or gig set up. Mostly we turned old abandoned factories over into concert arena’s. Sometimes also quarries and castle yards. I remember the huge empty train factory in Glasgow, Scotland. The stage was 200 meters deep. A real train came on stage during the show. Many concerts were a combination of music and performance with actors. Massive spectacles with artificial made hills, water-canons and oh yeah,….. somewhere also a band.
While all this chaos was in action, I sweated in the FOH area. Not only because of the massive pressure trying to make something worthy listening too in these impossible places, fighting the many acoustic problems. I literally sweated because of intense running around from one side of the desks to the other, turning knops, resetting delay times, moving faders, switching tapes on and of. This was serious exercise! But I did it. The dynamic of interesting live music always motivates me until today technically and creatively supporting performing artists on stage. And I learned with Test Dept. Dealing with most extreme dynamics due to the combination of instruments, difficult acoustic reverberations of the locations, figuring out how to catch the full sound of unusual traditional instruments, and then, on the end, make it sound as one transparent piece of music.
After the Test Dept years I could handle every FOH engineering problem
In the future more about Test Dept on the Limbabwe pages.


Monday, July 07, 2008.



Another great place to visit is Idrija. This is a small town a bit south/west of Ljubljana in Slovenia. Idrija is situated in the beginning of the Southern Alps. Tourism does exist, but still not overtaking. The town has besides the usual castle the second biggest mercury mine of the world. Mercury was the reason for settling. Since the 70ties commercial exploitation stopped only a small part of the mine stayed open for tourists, worthwhile a visit. More interesting is the surroundings of Idrija. The beginnings of the Southern Alps are a wonder of nature. The mountain rig grows out of the Adriatic Sea and turns quickly in high and very steep hills. This makes the area wild, rough, impenetrable and deserted. In the Second World War a popular hiding place for Partisans, reminded by many memorials. Some Partisan buildings are still there and open for visitors.
Idrija is situated in a valley surrounded by forests overgrown steep hills. Being there makes you feel cozy, warm and sheltered. Once a visitor said: “Idrija feels like you are back in mom’s womb”. The area around creates a beautiful and interesting nature. West of Idrija is the Krajinski Park, protected nature of amazing sights, views and wild life. Many clean, drinkable water wells. Great for hiking and adventure. A challenge for cyclers. In “Bela” you can swim in natural spring water.


The place is not only enjoyable for sport-orientated people. Easy accessible wander-routes over clear indicated walking tracks to great sightseeing’s and relaxing places.
View the amazing cloud sculptures on the horizon. Situated on the break of Mediterranean to Alp atmosphere, the sky creates lots of surprises. Unbelievable cloud moves you normally only see in complicated movie tricks.
In town enjoy the many bars, outside terraces and few restaurants that serve excellent local food. The locals are friendly and easy.
Pity there is no hotel or camping and just limited overnight stay possibilities. If you want to know more about this or look for accommodation contact -email-
Idrija is perfect central located for longer stays during every season of the year. Not only is the local nature park a breath-taking miracle all year, nearby are the famous stalactite caves of Postojna. The ski-tracks of Cerkno. The Triglav Park with the famous Trenta valley. The capital city Ljubljana. The beaches of Piran, Izola and Koper. There are many attractions and activities reachable from Idrija.
A perfect place to enjoy the wonders of this marvelous spot in Europe if you prefer to avoid the more popular, but therefore more crowded, tourist places like Bled, Koper and Ljubljana, without missing anything what Slovenia has to offer, in a more personal and friendly atmosphere. Wanna know more? Contact -email-
I think the local tourist office will be jealous about this article.


Sunday, July 06, 2008.



If you are still not convinced that traveling is BIG FUN, and for those who didn’t see it yet, watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlfKdbWwruY

Seeya tomorrow or somewhere…..


Saturday, July 05, 2008.



Amsterdam could be one of you travel destinations. Ofcourse, an interesting city, lots to see and do, especially if you have never been there. Many visitors miss the actual sights as in lots of popular tourist locations. Asking tourist office or locals who are born on the spot is mostly the wrong information source. Out of nationalistic proud they show you the usual famous attraction you already were aware of, or they simply do not know. Noticed often that born natives are the least informed about their surroundings. Not strange. You grew up with all that, so it is a normal “nothing special” part of your daily live. Visiting for the first time, you’re impression can be very different. I know a family living for generations in the same London suburb. They never saw Piccadilly Circus neither visited the Tate or Soho. Same experience I have here. Most locals do not dig my enthusiasm about the great wild rough nature. They do not see, and therefore ignore, even the tourist possibilities that might bring a different economic wealth than just the boring local factory. I understand. If you’re born here, you’re used to all this. For that reason it is in many places better to meet the obsessed stranger who’s impressed by the place and turned it inside out. That person often can show you more with a great enthusiasm, instead of locals. Back to Amsterdam.
Ofcourse you go and do it all. Walk the streets of the red light district (I advice evening/night. It looks great in the dark), hang on Dam square. See the juggling forgotten hippies in Vondelpark. Try weed in a coffeeshop. Visit the o so many museums. Pick the Paradiso early show and than wait in line for the midnight disco of De Melkweg. This is all great to do, but hey…. Does not every cultural metropole (London, NY, Berlin, Paris, Istanbul, Rome,…….) have gigs, disco’s and a multiple choice of museums. It is ofcourse great to catch the party scene in another place, but once inside I always had the idea that nobody is local, and it could be anywhere. So before you go and queue up at De Melkweg, walk just 100 feet further (I suppose you come from direction Leidseplein). Right there around the corner is a beautiful part of Amsterdam. Peaceful canals with traditional bridges, cobble stones streets (I have something with cobble stones lately). Very quiet, not many tourists. A forgotten corner, according to many locals the only bit of “real” Amsterdam with still the for generations long natives living there. It is called De Jordaan. Sure you will impress you’re partner much more with a romantic moment in this hood, than anything else of the attractions mentioned above. After that you can still turn around to wait in line of the Melkweg nightdisco. That will not stop till 5 anyway.


Friday, July 04, 2008.


Organized robbery mainly practiced in tourist areas (read yesterday first). This was in Paris, Montmartre, popular destination. Last gig of a long tour. The band insisted to be paid in $. It was some time ago, before the Euro. Shit, I was mainly loaded with German Marks and billion other European currencies. Take some time ransack the hood from bank to bank, changing money. As I was done there was no cash $ left anymore in whole Paris, plus stupid me, almost back in the hotel I got pulled into one of the most well-known robbery tricks on earth. Learn from this one. It was organized. Close to the hotel someone with a tourist map in his hand, stopped me for directions. While showing him the way, he had an excuse to step more aside, away from the pavement. than two other guys showed up identifying themselves as police and asking for id. I opened my belly purse (holding my id) full with $ (hey, I didn’t reach the hotel-safe yet). At that moment they tried a grasp into the purse. Alarmed, realizing being tricked, I pushed them away and started a little fight, screaming for police. Not such an easy victim after all, so they ran away. This was clearly a set up. I think one of the bank employees was even involved tipping his friends. The police id’s were vague and probably false. It was a good lesson, learned a lot from it. Do not think now that everybody approaching you for directions or help plans to rob you. I helped thousands of people this way, still do, and it only went wrong once. Here what I learned: Get suspicious with unusual moves. The fake tourist probably did not really resemble one. He carried a map, and camera around his neck. But closer observation could have warn me. On the other hand I do not follow the rules of stereo typing. There are all kinds of people on earth. Take them as they are. What should have alarmed me is the move aside, away from the middle of the pavement and the sudden join of more friends. No tourist I helped did that. Back in Paris, same hood and street, I think back with a smile, but also a bit of revenge. Better for those scums that I do not accidently see them.
More positive story. Porto, Portugal. Just unloaded (small van). Centre of town, close to the harbor, booming tourism. The promoter came with me to show a spot leaving the van, not far, but safe. Turning around the block we parked in a quiet neighborhood street. After soundcheck, during dinner, someone from the venue came up to me and said calmly, you better come along, there is something with the van. Shit, crash? Complaining neighbors? Robbery? It was the latter. Arriving at the van locals from the apartment buildings around detained a skinny, poor local junk. He smashed the small back-side window of the van. Nothing was stolen. The windows were blinded and had steel barriers from the inside. The police was already called in and on their way. Ofcourse this was shite. Had to get up early in the morning searching replacement for the broken window. Still I was pleasantly surprised by the extreme kindness of the locals and the immediate action they took, although I was a stranger. The police came, paperwork got done, junky arrested. Next morning as we drove out of town, I saw him swerving over the street.
I sincerely advice Porto and the rest of Portugal, as your travel destination. It is great, easy going, beautiful. Sauntering the old harbor quays and narrow streets . Fado music everywhere. The smell of good food….. I’ll be back.
Frankfurt Germany. Wanted to get lighter dropping cash at a bank so I counted in the hotel room. Checked out and had a coffee in the bar. A local employee came up to me and asked if I wanted to come to the front-desk. Someone damaged something in the room, I thought. At the desk the receptionist handed me a DM (German Marks) 500 bill. Found by the maid, he explained. Must have slid of the table while packing.
Central Italy, a smaller town we gigged. Almost end of tour, and again loads of different currencies. Huge pile of cash in white envelopes. Counted all the money in the (minimal furnished) hotel room, using the bed (white sheets) as “table”. The stash, too big to carry on you’re body, I dumped in my bag. No prob, it’s in the back of the van, with us, until we arrive at the next hotel-safe.
We checked out and hit the road. After about 50 miles I started to feel uncomfortable. Familiar feeling, always have that if something important got forgotten. Stopped at the first parking. Checked my bag. The stash was not there. Shit! Must have forgotten in the hotel. White envelopes on white sheets. Easy to overlook. Calmly I told the band that I forgot something important and have to turn around. Please wait here in the roadstop-coffeeshop. The guitar player immediately suspected what happened. “I come along, think you need some help”! As soon as we drove of he said “you forgot the tour money from the hotel”. I pushed the pedal, racing back, he called on my cell alerting the troops: hotel, local promoter, touragent and whoever we knew. At the hotel desk I asked for my room key explaining “I forgot something”. They handed me the key, I rushed up the stairs hoping the maids didn’t start cleaning. Too late. The sheets were gone. No maids. Coffee break time.
Back down at the desk, feeling miserable, a smiling receptionist took the pile of envelopes, visually filled with money, out of a draw and handed it to me.
Later I recounted, not even one small note was missing.
Here I stop. How much more true stories do I have to pull out proving this world is an honest, safe and reliable place. Pack your bag. Go and find out!


Thursday, July 03, 2008.


Its holiday time. The period you yearn to travel, and you should. Traveling is besides music my second need to survive. Meet the world, people, exchange ideas, cultural habits and find out what a great place we all have here. The collected impressions are an important addition to your knowledge and can (will) influence you’re ideas and views. Besides meeting other people (what I prefer the most), you can visit museums, rough nature, ride the NY underground, go rafting on wild rivers, join local reggae festivals, sunbathe on beaches, discover in every European corner an ancient castle, try local food, whatever you like. Ofcourse, if you take the prefab commercial beach/party trip to the standard holiday resort (Benidorm, Mallorca,…..) you have not been anywhere. If you like this, fine, its good to relax and party for a week, but not for a traveling experience.
Going around the world for 30 years I learned that most people are reliable and nice. At home media only show you the excessive moments of what went wrong. Leaves the impression the world is a dangerous place. Traveling proves opposite.
The planet is a fuckin’ great football to ramble and rock on. People are everywhere interested, helpful, supportive. Doesn’t mean it never went wrong. There were negative incidents. After some time this wears out, turning into funny stories on sultry summer evenings. Plus the mistake taught you.
Madrid sometime in the 90ties. We just packed up and dropped the band in the hotel, to our luck central located. It was late, very late. In Spain live starts after midnight. Venues open at 1 am shows start at 2. Must have been morning, 4/5 am. Still the streets were full of people and activities. Not in the mood for sleeping, the roady/driver and I decided to go out for a drink. Inviting crowded streets lured us outside. Hookers, dealers ,… all hanging around the corner. As an experienced traveler I took my precautions. Little bit of money in my pocket. Sufficient for a couple of beers. Bit cash on the body, under the clothes, the big stash in the hotel-save. Jumping of the hotel steps, we got immediately approached by a bunch of hookers. “Hey honey, where you from?” “You have a momento”, “Hola, come with me and party”, a usual ceremony. Hands all over you, grabbing arm, touching as. We shook them of and picked a bar. Ordered a few beers. Drinks only supplied by cash on hand. Grabbed in my back-pocket. Shit… what he fuck…. Empty. Money gone! I grinned, paid out of another stash. Hope the hookers spend that bit of change the right way.
Experiences like this never kept me away from Madrid. Can happen everywhere. Besides, I was prepared. Tomorrow a few more “rob” stories.


Wednesday, July 02, 2008.



Tropical summer temperatures make me wake up early to enjoy the cool morning freshness before the breathtaking thick heat drops in, and creates another little fine nature surprise. The early eastern morning sun produces sufficient heat to dry the dew. Hill tops slowly disappear in thickening fog. “The dragons breath”. The beautiful effect of the bright light filtered by this damp creates a short lasting miniature nature miracle. Sunheat insists making her way trough. Within a couple of minutes the damp dissolves.
17 and 18 June 2005 (wow! An exact date!). Tour with MEC (Magnolia Electric Co). We had a few no-gig days. Sometimes agents do not manage to get concerts for a couple days. It creates a “hole” in the trip with the question “how to spend this cheap”. Hotels, eating in restaurants is BBB (Big Bite in Budget). Lucky, always one band/crew member knows people en-route where we can stay. In most cases a friend, owner of bar with bandstand. We gig for accommodation, food and drinks.
Slomo, the slide guitar player knew Simone and his wife in Pavia, Italy. He had this music bar “Spaziomusica” we could stay and play. Getting there it was typical Italian. Via nice old small cobble stone streets and narrow bends, we reached a quiet dead end in a forgotten corner close to the town centre. The inner court yard was a pleasant organized chaos of plants, trees, tables, chairs and empty bottles. Indoors the place surprised me. A cozy collection of pictures, articles little presents guests contributed through time. This club is around for ages. First you enter the small bar merging into a backroom with tables, chairs and stage against the backwall. Watching and reading, not really famous artists come here to play, but that’s not so important. The air was loaded with positive energy. There are places on the planet that simply feels good.


Unexplainable, created by a mysterious force. This is one. Many indications in the place taught us that the original force was a “Karl Marx” resembling person who, assumedly, passed away.
The second owner, Simone gave us a warm welcome. We got invited to his house were mom made a great dinner (ofcourse we are in Italy!). During our stay it became more and more obvious this once so popular hot spot was going down. Not many people visited the bar. The two nights we gigged were barely attended. On the second night Simone said it was over with Spaziomusica. Despite all efforts gaining funds, maintaining the club became financially impossible. Visual emotionally touched, it felt him hard. He barely could understand himself. How can a great place like this…..
In front of a few people MEC played one of their best performances on this last night. After the gear was packed, we walked out as last visitors, leaving Simone and wife behind with tears in their eyes.
Before writing this post, I typed the club name in a search system. To my surprise the place in Pavia opened again couple of months after our visit. Simone must have found some financial support. If you get close to Pavia, drop in for a visit.


Tuesday, July 01, 2008.



“Dig” was broadcasted last night on local tv. I’m not a tv watcher. The amount of hours a year I spend in front of this media failure is countable by the fingers of one hand. Don’t own a “real” tv. Only an old b&w small thing from the early 70ties. Build in former Czechoslovakia. Drag it with me for ages. Mostly dumped in a far away storage or cupboard. For occasions like this, I have to dig it up.
The bands the movie is about, Brian Jonestown Massacre and Dandy Warhols, did not make me going through all these troubles. Barely familiar with them. Ofcourse I remember the names from the nineties. Some tunes that never impressed me. Standard college radio guitar pop. I mainly wanted to see the movie because it was “hip” for a week when it came out in 2004, plus Gen (Genesis P. Orridge) a good friend of mine, appears for a few moments.
Well…. I know its soooooooo negative, but I’m sorry to tell you that the complete movie is a lie. Dig is a compilation of private filmed home-movie-style bits. Made by a friend of both bands. Many shots of band rehearsals, recordings, at home, on the road a.s.o. It’s a documentary. But than it must be all true!? The individual scenes, yes. Not acted, all real. But what makes this docu (as many others) a lie is the editing. Imagine you have 100 fighting scenes, and 400 love scenes. You edit all fighting scenes together, leave all the love scenes out,…. Dig it? Made me nervous watching Dig. Gigging all these stages at least 3 times in my career, I know the reality of this bizznix. This is the next boring statement that musicians are no more than a bunch of irresponsible fighting drug addict losers. A freewheelin’ live that speaks to the imagination of so many teenagers. Do not wanna sound here as an old wise granddaddy, but young starters in this bizznix might take these scenes as an (wrong) example. Truth is that most artists who take themselves much more serious have a much longer life than these two bands. hard working without drugs, with good food, exercise and sleep and be yourself, makes you survive.
Still the film is somehow interesting. It gives a good view behind the scene. How worthless you are trying to be a “rockstar”. You clearly see the fuck ups of music bizz. The big cigar managers who lick as, the musicians who lick as. The movie proves what an empty, meaningless, big nonsense blow-up this bizznix is, better to be avoided if you want to have a pleasant stay on this planet. Maybe Anton is a very passionate and devoted musician, but so far his songs sink in the mud of “so many”. With the massive growth of world population, passionate musicians increased to. There are many. Famous and unknown. That he chooses a live of a rolling stone is up to him. It might have a reason and back ground. But hey…. We all carry our luggage that made us what we are. Lucky for those with a strong will that maintains their live-style.
Meanwhile it says enough that after 4 years Dig ends up as a vacant summer filler on local tv. And who remembers Brian Jonestown Massacre or Dandy Warhols?
New generation, new heroes, same songs.


Monday, June 30, 2008.



The question was dropped on me so often. Mostly I avoid the subject with an obvious funny fantasy story (eyes closed, dart-pin on a worldmap). Didn’t feel for going into endless discussions about countries, politics, fake liberalism and soccer. Until today still don’t want to.
Have many reasons not mentioning the countries (political territories) in this article by name. With some imagination you will figure it out. Oh yeah……… the question: Why and how did I found this place in the Alps? Here the truth:
Travelling around endlessly I located many great places to live on this planet. Never felt/feel tribewise, rootwise or nationalistic connected to a spot. Economical I was not depended on it either. So why not go somewhere else where the sky does not turn grey non-stop for weeks, and the view looks like it is filtered by a filthy unwashed lace curtain. Besides all that, it became an over-organized community. So many people on a few square meters needed massive organizations, rules, regulations. Nothing is allowed anymore. Soon there will be forms to request “fart-permission”. So lets make some space, I thought. For many years the idea was spinning around in my head. Had some friends down south, on the “sunny side” of the Alps. This place was opposite; deserted. A very thin populated political territory. Great nature, lots of space, lesser rules and after the rain the sky turns clear, bright and sunny. So why not having a spot there to hang and relax. Talked with my “southern” friends often about this. In my mind I made preparations.
1999. Returned from a tour. Got of the train. On my way out the terminal to the bus home, I bought a newspaper on the stand. In those days I still liked to be mislead by the media. At home I dropped my bag, switched on the coffee machine, sat down at the table, unfold the newspaper and the first thing I read is a headline “Minister wants law that all garden fences are equal in shape and color"................!!!!!!!!!!!!? Something snapped in my brain at that moment. I did not believe my eyes. Read it again! Wait… enna momento…..; wars fought, people die of starvation, rainforest is being chopped down,….. but this political territory, world wide known for their “liberalism”, is busy discussing laws regarding garden fences….! I couldn’t believe it. Checked the calendar. It was not April 1^st, fools (joke) day. The newspaper purchased was known not to be “paparazzi” bullshit orientated. Readers, believe me, this is true. Probably it is traceable in archives. Search in the period May 1999. This article made my hunger to be in a place I can breathe, a desperate urgent need. On the spot I called friends in the Southern Alp place. “I’m coming down now”. Grasped my unpacked bag and drove away playing Thin Lizzy loud on my car stereo “whoooeee I’m going southbound……”
Arriving bought a local free-add magazine. Checked some rentals. One of the most suitable offers was in a small isolated community. Coming down the mountain-road I knew and felt that this is it. Rough nature, peaceful, friendly, hard to reach, silence, easy going, no bullshit. A new address on the same old loneliness.