The 1800´s and Caroliner in the European States
Grenoble (say the word bluh instead of bull for correct pronunciation, something I do not approve of in the life course by the way) is a smallish city with skiing and tourists as the main industry there. Entering through the mountains we come to a wire leading into the city from a great height where giant christmas ornaments with people go up and down. Clean pure alp city and yet....there is a dark side. At the end of a street is upsidedown land. People living in vans. Squats with chewed couches and recliners. Spray painted underwater scenes with old tables. One place is the 102 club. This is a 22 year old "squat" with a stage inside. Other squats have other shows, but we have been selected for the one with the patio and crazy dog inside. Setting up the show was no problem as the tapestries went into a low ceiling. Our show starts after a discussion about the Caroliner article appearing in France 12 years ago. The first thing that happens is the Polish Ponks. These two men wobble around on tattooed skin and yell things no one understands. They are completely dunked in some alchohol and thusly the waddle fall over walk. They grab at the microphone, hug the blue curtain, scream in Polish through thickened lips and thicker breath. Eventually when trying to get a hold on footing by pushing off the stage one provides his back for a seat, and 10 minutes later a jolly stand for the bass to set on. I was impressed at the amount of people moving about trying to keep these drunks from falling into their nose. A usual stint like this would have more European smoke coming out of mouths. Thank you Greno bull.
Later in the evening master eggpaint super canvas Koh Kasahara W. B. Embadagon shows us a fancy Japanese camera he purchased for his Zurich tour. He happens to show up in the city of Grenoble to snap a few photos before heading back to Tokyo. His description of egg yolk and paint on his body makes some of us rather rakish, so a little rumpus occurs with a bruised knee. Nothing serious I suppose, but these words are a little too powerful for the gumfiated minds of this band. I am taking to wearing earplugs around Japanese super canvas in the future.
Italian roads which have been on Earth for several centuries have money on their minds. We exceed the 100 dollar limit on paying these toll people, but turning back may mean doubling the price. Going forward we double up in the choking tunnels filled with burning fuel. They extend for long jaunts into the ground coming into what might be descripted as shanty world. The zingelli gypsies of Italy seem to play a lot of music and have a bad reputation. All they did to us was quietly stare at the Deny The Future Through the 1800´s bulletin in the front of our vehicle and sometimes they would swing toys. The gypsy toy is usually a long stick that goes "swish swish" in the air. During moments of the wonder sigil, the stick is used to beat clothing hung on a rope.
Tonights venue is at the end of a road near the Italian Zombie Graveyard. Torkiera Squat without Water is a land of forgotten time. The toilet is a hole. There is a man with a beard who gives goose eggs. Wood is around for night heat. Black lights are set into the ceiling, the tapestries are hung. Big Bruno Bucelli shows up with an 8 page article in a music vogue magayine. The pictures are very large, the write up is informative, although maybe he hasn´t played "Toodoos" the long play record enough. This was very sad. The photography provided by the Carbon Record people in full page glory really does take a little of the sting out.
Big Bruno speaks of the police when he plays. Italy is famous as it has a mafia, masonic, fascist state where all the fasci tindered artists are celebrated. He tells of these things in perfect Italian. He is from Italy of course! Big Bruno has a theremin shaped like his friends male genitalia. It is disturbing in sight and sound. Mosquitos and bees.
Next is Allun, a sewing and toy sinapist two piece ensemble. Both of the women in the band look like maids from a mascara accident and sing songs much like stuttering birds. The music is loops of piano and rolling pumpkins. Small little words accent the birdy warbles.
Caroliner plays an instrumental intro before the curtain opens. The spectacle has the crowd overly excited. First the young ones, then the old ones. The old ones become even more excited screaming things in Italian and jumping. They seem too old for this! Extended noodle arms pulp some into submission as the wildness wont stop.Ít is the most crowded show that this squat has enjoyed. Set lists taken away from the band at the end of the night. The curtain will not be closed as people have cemented themselves to it and threaten to sew into it also.
Our sound men Fio and Lucca offer ´modern Italian inspirations´ at 4 AM at Club Innovate´. This party at the no water squat will not cease. Never. The club they own is actually a white functional house with multiple rooms and sleek fantastico bathing facilities. The one problem is the heavy breathing that echoes in the place. This was not a problem, at four thirty AM I would have been mistaken for a corpse near the cemetary had I stood outside the cemetary for any amount of time. Slept like a stone under the sea waking to laughter and Lucca yawning.
Fio tells me of the coming of the Euro dollar to Italy ´Before, we never
see this thing a pot of water that you plug a demon tail into the wall, it has
the fire of hell in it and then you drink a coffee! A box with wheels and no
animal one to see around it. The front has a demon fit into it. You poke him
with a metal stick and he runs very
fast on the wheels! He is loud but friendly. We have a box here, you pull outs
on a knob and a little man appears in the box. He speaks to you like he is your
friend, heze name is Tevee! Fantastico!´
The next show is in Bullanaro, a place run by Mama Buttme in Vigevano. More
on that later.
yours,
Cottypearile Weddingforke