Tag Archives: electro

Kommen sie hier Hong Kong und listen to Kraft-Blur!

9 May

kraftwerkHong Kong outdid itself over the weekend with the London bus-style arrival of two global musical giants of very different pedigree – Kraftwerk and Blur. Both showed up what’s best and worst about the city’s live music tastes.

Having spent Saturday afternoon drinking Tsingtao and listening to krautrock our expectations were suitably piqued ahead of the electro-pioneers’ 3D gig at Kowloon’s Kitec centre. There was only one problem – no bar in the venue and no drinks allowed inside. At a gig? Seriously? So after muttering to the box office staff something about my inalienable rights and that I’d see them in Strasbourg, we rejoined to the venue’s apparently only café, to find it had stopped serving half an hour before the gig was due to start.

It is a testament to Kraftwerk’s magical electronic plinky plonkings that being forced to drink warm Blue Girl Imported Premium Lager and chow down on a microwaveable 7-11 hot dog did not ruin my evening before it had even started. 3-D glasses firmly in place we were treated to two hours of a Kraftwerk greatest hits show, complete with nicely retro three dimensional projections. Autobahn, Robots, Tour De France, The Model, Trans Europe Express, Musique Non Stop – the music and visuals just about distracted from the appalling skin-tight bathing suits these four portly middle-aged men were wearing. For the record, Kraftwerk dress auf der linken Seite.hiroshima - kraftwer

Apparently chief songwriter Ralf Hütter is the only remaining original member of the band. To be honest one Teutonic sounding sex offender looks very much like another when plonked behind a plinth wearing a skin-tight bathing suit, so no great loss there. Good tunes. No banter. A simple auf widersehen and then they were off to go cruising Lockhart Rd, or more probably back to the hotel for a slice of strudel and a sleepy. Quality.

Blur was an altogether different beast. In what was billed as their farewell tour the English indie legends blasted through a 90 minute set of such quality it was almost impossible to choose the lame song to go to the toilet during. Albarn spent the gig jumping and spazzing about like a 23-year-old, with Coxon coaxing unearthly howlings from his geetar (solo highlight: Trimm Trab) and Alex James, well, standing off to one side looking louche and thinking of cheese. Age has certainly not withered them, although Albarn managed to throw a bit of a hissy fit when his guitar malfunctioned during Tender and the crowd had to step in to calm him down with an impromptu a cappella version of the chorus, like a long-suffering mother dealing with an ADHD-riddled child.

The highlight, early on, came when the Gorillaz front man apologised for not having made it to HK with Blur until now – 25 years after forming. Their upcoming gig in Japan had been cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances, he continued, meaning the boys had a week free which they planned to spend in the SAR trying to write a new album. Cue screams of delight from the audience. Whether we’ll ever see the fruits of this week’s Blur holiday in Hong Kong remains to be seen, although Albarn has already penned the imperious Hong Kong with Gorillaz.

So, thanks Hong Kong, but can we have more of this in future please and sort the bar situation out? It’s pretty embarrassing when you begin to get out-muscled on the live music front by Singapore, although judging by the noticeable gaps in the crowd at both venues, it’s no more than some of us deserve.

(PS I might add some videos to this post if I can work out how to do it)

Ladyboys in Boots – NYE in Phuket

4 Jan

IMG_1064The world’s population can be divided very neatly into two mutually exclusive camps: those who enjoy New Year’s Eve and those who’d rather stay in with a box of wine and the box set of the Wire. Unfortunately for me, I’m firmly in the might-as-well-have-a-fucking-party category and have been searching for that perfect night ever since a roller-coaster ride through the suburbs of Newcastle in ’95 left me temporarily blind in one eye.

What this meant a few days ago was decamping to Phuket in search of fun, sun and lots of Chang (beer). Only now do I feel my blood is purified and my head clear enough to recount what went down. You may even find the following useful if you too fancy a break on Thailand’s debauched west coast.

My first observation: I have never been mistaken for a Russian oligarch so many times in my entire life. Yup, there’s a direct flight from Moscow to Phuket, which means lots of stunning ice maidens and horrific, vodka soaked, flame-haired 50-something divorcees. Then there are the men. Mis-matched primary colour wearing oafs, skin as pallid as cold pelmeni. I hate to regurgitate stereotypes but they don’t smile, they don’t talk, they just drink and growl whilst shoveling Borscht into their mouths at the many Russian restaurants that have depressingly sprung up in the area….

They played a persistent, menacing counterpoint to our lovely, smiley, patient Thai hosts who, to be fair, managed to make everything better. Phuket is actually not all bad and the beaches of Kata and Karon offer more relaxed, up-market holidaying options for those not prepared to join the Full Moon party loons in Patong.

A trip to Phuket, however, really isn’t complete without a visit to this town:

If Hong Kong is a coke-fuelled banker then Patong is his methamphetamine-addicted younger sister. Up. All. Night. A walk down Bangla Road is enough to cause temporary cerebral cortex shut down. Sketchy touts brandish laminated cards offering ping pong shows and shove live iguanas and slow lorises at passers-by; ladyboys – and not particularly hot ones either – grab at balls, arms, and anything else that comes close; sadness, tragedy, sex and sheer unbridled joy sit cheek to jowl, often in the same person.

IMG_1092Tattoo parlours proclaim “15 years experience. Brand new needles”; stunning Thai girls gyrate hypnotically around their poles with the agility of Olympic gymnasts; dirty electro blares out of every available speaker; cockroaches scurry; Japanese tourists gravitate between awe and terror – literally having no frame of reference for this shit. Even staff in the Boots at the top of the road are pre-op trannies.

A chance encounter with a flyer led us down to the beach on New Year’s Eve for electro festival Sydictive Element. A vanity project which encountered numerous hurdles as over-officious local government and police chiefs waited for their palms to be crossed with baht, the beach party to end all beach parties finally went ahead. Some DJs didn’t show but those that did will be glad – it’s not every day you get to play to 20,000 people on a stage moored a couple hundred yards off shore.

Never been to a rave on a beach before. Would be back in a shot. As the beach area was only 600 metres long and fairly narrow it meant everyone could get a good view of the floating stage, with its monumental soundsystem, giant LCD displays and floating VIP area. At midnight, flying lycra-clad ladies attached to hanging wires soared overhead as fireworks exploded around us to the tunes of Bassment Jaxx and beach-front party go-ers let loose a thousand paper lanterns.

Phuket: you party good. I shall return with reinforcements.