“No you moron, if you go back in time you can’t just invent
a car if you don’t already know how to. I mean, you can’t just draw a car and
say ‘there, make this.’”
“Ok, then I’ll do something like the Shamwow.”
“Better.”
“Or, or, or write the script for Star Wars before George
Lucas.”
“No, it was already in Lost.”
My question to the readership is, would it matter if you
were in a Delorean or a Hot Tub Time Machine?
And what would you invent in the past to make yourself rich in the
future? A computer? A Segway? Stuffed crust pizza or fuck it, just pizza?
Fuck. Wow. Hamburg
fuckin’ ripped. Sometimes you don’t know
if something will be cool or not. Or ya’ know, it will just be neutral. Like Dr. Pepper. It’s sweet and soda, but I
don’t really know what it tastes like. Last
night was cherry vanilla Dr. Pepper. Considering
that Turbonegro was holding their annual gathering across town, people came out
in spades to support the punks from New Jersey. Kids moshed back and forth, others pulsed on
the sides. Despite a minor setback with a bass malfunction halfway through,
Night Birds threw in a handful of covers extending their standard set - Ramones
and Replacements. Sweat pouring off my
brow, I handled the merch as best as possible peddling T-shirts hand over
fist. So cool to be rockin n rollin in a
town that hosted The Beatles and in a venue that figures into DKs lore (did
they record there or didn’t they?).
The promoter Daniel and the crew at Hafenklang fed us, put us up in a sparkling clean dorm
and very clearly, expertly promoted the show.
A bevy of drink tix swapped for non-hangover-inducing beer and extra
caffeinated Premium cola for Brian and I. We were so comfortable that our
bowels were able to collectively relax and evacuate multiple times (I believe
15 was the final tally). In the morning,
we rolled out of bed to find hot coffee and breakfast, vegan and non-vegan, awaiting
us. Let this be a call for expanded
hospitality for touring bands in America.
Feeding the band some decent grub goes a long way.
What night in Europe would be complete without a giggly
stroll through the RDL? In Hamburg, that
section is virtually walled off where only adult males may pass. But before we could do that, Ryan’s arm was hooked
by a straggler on the sidewalk. He was
very nearly led off into the night never to be seen again. Eventually we made it safely back to our
rendezvous point where diehards and sleepyheads parted ways.
And what lovely weekend afternoon in Europe would be
complete without a stroll through a fair at the ol’ fish market? This is where Ryan and PJ strung themselves
up in a harness and trampolined up and down joyously. This moment is deservedly well-documented.
And wouldn’t you know it, the fair didn’t have a Delorean or a magic hot tub,
but it did have a goddamn time machine.
This moment is deservedly well-documented too.
Last night they played a rager in Leipzig, but the author was too bleary-eyed this morning to do his damn job so that update will have to wait until tonight, folks. Gotta leave this rest stop now and get back on the road. Brno tonight!
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