Eind of the Line

I often say the great thing about Holland is how small the country it is, and how easy it is to get to other places. Even when you don't want to.

See, I was out in Amsterdam on Friday night because I had some friends visiting. They were staying at a hotel in the city, but I had planned to go home. If you live in the main cities, there are night trains running every hour. I am lucky enough to live near Leiden Central Station, and it is always good to know that I can get home at any time. Amsterdam is only two stops away, and by now I was looking forward to being home in my bed by 3:30. That would give me about 7 hours sleep before meeting up with my friends in Amsterdam again.

I got on the 2:45 night train and started on my trip home. Like I had been looking forward to, I had a brilliant, restful, deep sleep. However, I woke up at 5am... In Eindhoven. I had overslept. Bigtime. To let you understand the magnitude of this fuck-up, here is a map.

(my stop, Leiden, in just above Den Haag) I had traveled basically to south Netherlands while in a sweet sweet dreamlike state. I was already worried what my friends and family would think, as I have a history of sleeping in unfortunate places. (At least this time, I still had my shoes).

Now it was 5am, and I had more than 1 1/2 hours before the next train would depart. See, it was too late in the morning for the night trains, and I had to wait for the first regular train... I thought that since I was already in Eindhoven, maybe I can take a look around the city centre. That way, I can pin it on the map, making this trip not a complete pointless excercise.

So, I took a walk. It was that point in the morning where it gets even darker before it gets light. Within a minute, a friendly local on an old bicylce spots me from across the street. He calls out to me and bikes my way.

Him: "You want to buy a bike? 15 Euro"

Me: "No."

Him: "10 Euro?"

Me: "No."

Him "Seven Euro?"

Me: "No, I don't even want to be in Eindhoven!"

He biked away, and I realised what a stupid idea this walk was- in the dark hours of the morning walking around by myself in a big city with a blatant criminal element. I mean, he was obviously trying to sell a stolen bike. So, I went back into the station where they have security cameras and tried finding a place to sit.

I found a seat in a passport photo booth. It even had a curtain! So, I set my alarm for 7am incase I fell asleep again, and tried relaxing a bit.

That's when I heard the unmistakeable sound of the footsteps of a dirty homeless man with heavy, floppy feet. The nerve of the guy- he opened up the curtain of my booth and asked me for 5 Euro. For what? Does he need to buy a bike? Because I happen to know a guy. I mumbled my way into boring the homeless guy into leaving. But he was either a complete asshole, or completely off his face on drugs because he came back to interrupt me twice more. Man he pissed me off. The nerve! (Sorry, I but now is not the time to ask how anyone could possibly be homeless living in socialist Holland.)

So anyhow, the time passed so slowly, and I eventually caught the train home- although this time, I did not sleep very deeply. When I studied in Japan, I learnt the ancient art of the train power nap. I never once missed my stop, although if I had of, I would have ended up in downtown Tokyo. I think I need to retrain myself before I consider sitting down when I am tired (drunk) on a night train.

I got home at 9:30, and instead of getting some proper sleep before going back to Amsterdam, I decided to have a nice breakfast and a nice hot shower. And so it was when I learnt that perhaps Holland isn't such a small country after all.

Festival Season Part IIII
Lowlights of LowlandsWhat do these next bands have in common?

ARCTIC MONKEYS
BASEMENT JAXX
THE PRODIGY
SNOOP DOGGY DOGG

They all played last weekend at one of the most famous music festivals in Holland, Lowlands, I was there the whole 3 days of festival, and I saw none of them. Bad luck? Sort of. I was at lowlands not as a spectator, but as an employee.

I signed up to work here almost a month ago because it was a good full weekend of work, and I hoped I would be able to at least see some bands play.

Things were complicated soon after I signed up, as I realised that during that time, my friend and his friend would be coming from overseas to stay with me. I figured I could both work, and meet him for dinner or something.

Then I got my schedule: 10am-11pm all three days. And the festival terrain was very close to the official worst city in the world. I spent the next few weeks trying to make contact with them to change my schedule around a little bit. See, most employees were camping at the festival, as were the 55,000 visitors, but under the circumstances, it wasn't appropriate for me. I couldn't make contact, so I had to tell them in person on my first day.

I thought this would be a 2 hour trip, but on the first day, I was an hour and a half late. Shit... When I arrived, my bosses were very pissy at me, and that did not get any less when I told them I needed to leave a few hours earlier in order to make the last train home. I was off to a great start...

I got signed in, and led to my workplace: a TexMex restaurant. A bald guy with a sleazy goatee called a group of 7 of us together. His name, and I am being completely serious, was Carlos. I mean, how perfect is that? He said to us, you guys are in the Burrito Department, as if it was an extremely important department. He continued: "Burrito Burrito Burrito Burrito Burrito Burrito Burrito Burrito". From the sounds of things, I was going to be working with burritos.

My responsibility was to look after burritos in their 3 most vital stages of their life-cycle.

1. taking the raw burritos and gently placing them on a rack. (The young stage)
2. putting the burritos in the oven at 200 degrees for 10 minutes. (The gestation period)
3. putting the cooked burritos on the warming plate (The adult stage)

Other people were making them, and others were serving them to the customers. Sure, this is a very simple account of my responsibilities, but it is an accurate representation of how menial it felt.

Incredibly, as specific as this job was, it got incredibly busy at times, despite the burritos costing nearly 10 euros- an astronomical price. I found this even more amazing because most of the spectators are hippies, and we all know that hippies have no money. I guess, when they actually do have money, they are so reckless with it. Maybe that is why they have no money: they spend it all at music festivals.

At the very real risk of being sexist, I have to say that I don't enjoy working for under-30 female bosses. In my experience, I think they are so self conscious about their authority while still wanting to be cute, that they come across as complete bitches. They strictly enforced all the rules, and liberally dispensed condescending advice. I mean, I am working in the Burrito department- I think I have about hit rock-bottom already...

When I finished that evening, I had to leave early. They did not take to this well. In fact, one guy looked at my schedule and said "you are working until 11pm. Grab a t-shirt." I loved my reaction to this complete tosser. He was trying to pull his autority. I just told him, look, I am not going to work. Stubbornness is fantastic sometimes. He was quickly defeated and said, fine go home.

Three hours later I was home...

The next two days of work just blurred together. The next day, I was 2 1/2 late the next day because I met my friend at the airport beforehand. However, I was much smarter this time. I pulled the classic "go ask your mother" strategy. I told the temping agency that I had arranged this with the TexMex boss, and reversed it to the TexMex boss. It's all about people skills.

I usually love mexican food. If I had a choice of food when I was living at home, I would always choose something mexican. But now, I won't touch a burrito for at least 6 months. Thank you Lowlands for curing my love of mexican food...

On the 2nd day as I walked in, a bunch of people were laughing at me. Why? They didn't know me? I checked that my fly was up, and began working. Then a guy asked me if I was actually David Beckham. See, my hair is too long for me to working in the catering without having to tie my hair back. This was the Beckham from about 5 years ago when I was in Japan and everyone thought I looked like him. But when non-Japanese people say it, it might actually be true... I say, fair enough. I mean, he is a good-looking guy, but it's just a shame when he opens his mouth because he sounds as manly as a cockney Michael Jackson. To help break the monotony of the job, I began praciticing a little trick. Because I was using the oven a lot, I had to use these big oven mitts. Soon I began throwing the mitts high into the air, and literally throwing my hands into them, in one smooth motion. Man it was cool. It reminded me of this- but way cooler.


On the 2nd day on the way home, the quiet train stopped, and suddenly it was full of drunk, noisy, singing kids. They had just come back from a beach party. They held up the train enough for me to miss my connection. I got home at 1:30, and had to leave home again at 7am. To save time for sleeping, I abstained from showering. I figured that I don't really need to be clean since I am only handling food all day. Besides, all the hippies eating the burritos will be used to eating unsanitary food.

I usually love mexican food. If I had a choice of food when I was living at home, I would always choose something mexican. But now, I won't touch a burrito for at least 6 months. Thank you Lowlands for curing my love of mexican food... Our employers actually had 17 different food tents across the festival terrain. We were allowed to buy 3 euro tickets for "luxury food", or we could take free sandwiches. On the third day, I couldn't even contemplate eating another burrito, and the only thing that sounded good to me was a simple sandwich. I guess "luxury" is all about perspective. That tuna sandwich and the cheese spread sandwich were about the best thing I have ever tasted.

On the last day, the TexMex bosses had become more relaxed. Near the end, the main boss spotted me throwing some boxes into the giant dumpster. She yelled "You're supposed to fold them first! Now you are going to have to jump in and flatten them." Soon, a bunch of the bosses and others were sitting outside, and me and 6 or 7 others were jumping into the dumpster. Then the bosses said- "do flips!", as they took a video with their cellphone. So yes, I finished my weekend of work with doing flips into a giant pile of rubbish as if it were a swimming pool.

So instead of watching famous bands and up-and-comers play at one of the best festivals in Holland, I will remember Lowlands for disgusting burritos and doing tricks with oven mitts and jumping into a pile of trash.

Festival Season Part III
Parkpop, Den Haag, cont.


Here is a belated recap of Parkpop, without the distracting element of my being dressed up as Michael Jackson. Remember, Parkpop is in Den Haag and is one of the largest free music festivals in Europe. There were three stages, so I couldn't see everything.
The Skatalites.
The Skatalites are a legendary band who basically discovered ska music. Well, maybe that isn't technically accurate in the sense of being true, but The Skatalites have been a steady presence in the Jamaican music scene since the 60's. Sure, due to several reasons (mostly death), the band has changed its membership a lot since then. Some people complain that reggae music is too simple a genre to take it seriously, but the Skatalites show that they can play music well. A selection of instrumental classics, old reggae covers, and some songs with vocals. It was early in the afternoon, relaxed atmosphere, and it was a perfect day for ska. And this was THE perfect band for ska.

Ed Kolkowtzksykyszlyzz

He is better known as the singer from 90's rock band Live, or as I like to call him: "Andre Agassi".
I know, uncanny, right?

My brother had the Live album, and I never realised how much I had listened to them and liked them until today. It was just the main singer- (which to be honest is all anybody cares about: Dire Straits- Mark Knopfler, No Doubt- Gwen Stephani, Coldplay- Chris Martin, Bob Marley and the Wailers- Bob, The Beatles- Ringo. The list goes on...).

He was playing a steel-string guitar, and a steel-strong voice with soul and Rock 'n Roll awesomeness. Seriously, I have never heard a white guy sing so many "Oh Yeah"'s and get away with it. He played six or seven of his classic numbers flawlessly, and for the last song, he brought out "the best looking quartet in the world": four hot violin/cello players, and a pianist for a rendition of Overcome similar to the link I provided. I was blown away by how good he was, and my own nostalgia for the 90's.

Maikal X

I generally don't like artists who deliberately misspell their name in an attempt to be cool. I can't think of any right now, but what am I, on trial? I wasn't a huge of this music. This seemed to be pretty standard reggae, not bad, but it was good practice for me and my balls (percussion). The band came from all over the Caribbean and Suriname. (the crowd also mirrored this demographic, and I was still dressed as MJ... I had to casually avoid some hostility). At the end of his set, Maikal (if that is even his real name) said "I've brought along a singer from Jamaica. Give it up for Alaine!"

Now, to most people, this doesn't mean much. But I have been listening to Alaine early and often for the last two years. She is a new-ish female artist on the reggae scene. She just sings with voice so syrupy smooth that can melt any man. And she looks the part too. She wasn't supposed to be here, and now she was. How did this happen and why? What wonderful thing did I do to deserve this?

She only played two songs- on the piano- and to be honest, she sounds much better in the recording studio. But I was impressed. She plays piano too? She's actually talented... But wow. I was smitten. Here is more if you're interested... Warning: you may become smitten too.

I left to go home- already having been separated from friends, and I floated home. But not before...
Guus Meeuws
Now, I have mentioned the Ladi-da music that Dutch people like. This guy is one of the biggest Dutch Pop stars. He is to the Dutch like Ricky Martin is to Latin America. This is all despite it being "crap" (please excuse the technical terminology), the people here love it. How much do they love it, you ask... Okay, everybody who was there- maybe 50-100 thousand people, was singing every word to every single song. I mean, I can't explain how incredibly awful this is. Luckily I took a video. Yes, this is a congo train. (shudder).



I kept the image and audio of Alaine in my mind- where it will always stay, and I walked away from the smurf music, past the piles of apocalyptic piles of burning rubble, and went home.Yes, those are people sitting around a flaming pile of plastic.

Festival Season Part II
Festival Mundial (min Lauryn)

Since I had gone on this pilgrimage to see Lauryn Hill on my own, I went alone. That meant I had plenty of time to make stupid observations about largely unknown, hardworking singers who probably don't deserve it. This should be fun.

Kenny B
I arrived just on time to see Kenny B. I wanted to see him because he was one of the few artists listed as only "Reggae". I had never heard of him, and just now, a quick google reveals that he is basically a professional warm-up act for B-grade reggae acts. He was pretty decent, although I think everyone appreciated his last two songs the most since they were Bob Marley covers.

Fun fact: Kenny B is actually Kenny G's long lost brother. I know, uncanny, right?
(Insert Kenny G picture here)

Sabrina Starke

This was the first performer on the main stage, which was my first time seeing a main stage. Holy shit. This was when I realised how big these festivals are. Until now, I had only seen this type of thing on TV, and it's not the same.

Sabrina Starke is apparently a big star in Holland as a jazz/soul singer. As a performer she sucked. She kept trying to get people to sing along. It was only 2:30 in the afternoon. No-one did. Then she got all passive-aggressive about it. I don't know, she might be a really nice person (although odds are since she is successful, I'd doubt it), but she really came off as a bitch. That's a shame, because she really does have a great voice and some good songs.

Misc:

• They had "sign dancers" for most acts on the bog stage. I had never heard of this concept either, but it is supposed to allow deaf people to enjoy the music too. I know I certainly enjoyed it, but probably not in the same way that is intended. It's too easy to make jokes about, so here is a video.
  
• There was a reggae/punk crossover. I propose to call this genre "renk" or "regunk", because that is the sound I made when I heard it. It was the audio version of drinking milk right after brushing your teeth.
• A crazy group from Somalia. They were truly crazy, even managing to make the crowd go almost equally nuts. Still, it reminded me of this Southpark clip. It's unfortunate for Somalia, but it's like the sheep and NZ stereotype. They're going to have to get used to it.
• While a Guinea Fasseuaean master percussion group was playing, about ten kids were running around on the stage. It was only slightly annoying until one fat kid had to be a complete asshole and took a microphone from a jambe player. His parents asked him to stop. He didn't. This kept going on for about two songs until I wanted to punch him in the ear. I can only imagine what the band members were thinking. Look, festivals are nice places to bring kids, but they should at least be put on a leash. Especially the fat ones.
• A Moroccan group. They were irritatingly difficult to listen to.
• An acclaimed hiphop group from Denmark. Who knew? (well, they were acclaimed in Denmark too, which explains some of it.) More amazingly, they were pretty damn good. Especially considering how painfully bad mediocre hip hop is. Actually, I'm sure that real Europeans know this group. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8krO7Q3vSys&feature=related). My citizenship training continues...
  
• A group whe was described as an "Afro-rock" band. Now, I don't actually know what that means. From what I can tell, "Afro-rock" means 'rock music played by black guys'. They were good, but every time a song was about to get good, it didn't. It was disappointing, and trust me, after today, I knew disappointment. At least their colourful costumes were cool.
  

Ziggi

Now, this is not the iconic Ziggy Marley from the Melody Makers. No, this is Holland (and possibly Europe's) biggest reggae/dancehall act. I know, he should have chosen a different name. I don't care if his real name is Ziggi. It would be like if my name was "Tom Petti", and I used that as my performing name. It just aint right.

Nevertheless, he was the only other act I knew about beforehand, albeit since I arrived in Holland. You know what, he has a gimmicky/phoney (if not blantantly misleading) performing name. His band is a little flat, uncreative, or even possibly undertalented. His songs are too stereotypical love songs or about marijuana. I mean, before one song, called "Blaze it", he encouraged the crowd to take out their "blunts". This is a family festival! Look, in countries where smoking weed is illegal, sure, that might be a rebellious thing, but in Holland at a family festival, you are just a douchebag. Besides, what is he trying to convert people to Rastafianism? I mean, Christian rock bands don't encourage the crowd to drink wine because it is used in communion. Another thing, even though he is Dutch (from the Dutch Antilles in the Caribbean) and performing in Holland, he obviously thinks it is better for his image to only speak English. That just seems a little ingeniuos to me.

Oh yeah, but my point was, despite all of that, I still like it. He doesn't verge too much into Dancehall and has a good voice. Wow, that was probably the most extended backhanded compliment I have given out this year. Congratulations Ziggi! (if that is even your real name.)

The highlight of the day was probably the market. See, this was a world festival, and there were lots of stalls selling Africanny things- as well as people just asking for your money. Before I left Japan, I bought a set of percussion balls. They have many names as they are used in several mid-African countries. I can kind of use them, but I wanted two identical sets so I could use both hands. Like this:

Unfortunately, no music stores in Holland has them. I checked them all. But here at the festival, I found my own set of balls. Immediately I began practicing. Hopefully one day I can be as good as those guys. But look out for my balls in future posts. They frequently feature in my stories at festivals. So that was a success story, and my day, sans Lauryn Hill, wasn't a waste after all. It was never going to be. Any time you get to make fun of others, is a good time by me.