Why won't you play in Timbuktu? Or why that's kind of annoying

It's something that happens over and over and over again. A band announces a tour, a festival, a gig. They give the place, the town, the places, the towns. Great of course. But what's the most frequent reaction? Wrong. It's not 'how cool' or 'I'll be there'. It's 'Please play/come to whereveritisimliving!'. Actually, scratch the please, most people are quite demanding and forcing.

In my life I've asked a band twice. But never as a responds to a tour announcement. The last time I asked was rather carefully whether the band would consider playing in Europe as well at some point. It took me days to get myself to ask this. Because I think it's rude. "Tonight we're playing in Bristol!" the band posts happily on twitter or facebook. "Play Istanbul!" "When you're coming to Vancouver" "CHICAGOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" "What about Berlin?" "Come to Ahmedabad*!" "Newcastle!!" are the most frequent type of responses. Never mind the played Newcastle two days ago. It's just rude. The band is happy to play somewhere, the people who are in fact going are happy they play there, so why go nag and whine?

It's not that I don't understand. Despite living in the big city of Amsterdam, it's not that my favourite bands are filling the venues every weekend. Or every month even. And yes I do think 'Man, if you play in that shithole, why can't you play in Amsterdam too' as well. But the difference is, I don't go whine and moan about it to the band on a public and unpersonal place such as facebook and twitter. And if you really love the band so much, try and make a nice roadtrip around it. Yes, it costs money, then you don't drink yourself silly at the gig, you might actually enjoy the show (or not, it's a gamble).

It's utterly and utterly annoying when your favourite band doesn't play the shithole you live in or isn't big enough to tour across the ocean. But nagging under a happy blogpost about a show by the band? That should be a not-done.

* Ahmedabad is a city in India

That's the way it is - remembering Mel Appleby

When Dutch ska/punk/pop band Doe Maar split I was in shock. I was about 8 years old but I was devastated, as I've written numerous times before in this blog. I also mentioned that there's a hole in my music-memory after they split, not knowing all the popular bands that were round at that time. Duran Duran? Wham? Dolly Dots? Spandau Ballet? I had no idea. Up until I found a new band I loved.

This band, or duo more likely, was Mel & Kim. They were two sisters from London who had their first hit in 1986/1987, depending on where you lived. They were discovered by Stock Aitken & Waterman who would be the ones to launch Kylie Minogue, Jason Donovan, Big Fun, Sinita, The Reynold Girls and many more upon us. Mel & Kim have released one album, four singles and released a total of 11 songs all together.

I loved this band so much. My barbies (I was about 10) were dressed like them, I bought the magazines they were in, I bought every version of their album (I own 3), every single I found, every 12". Same track listing but different cover? The item was mine. You could say that Mel & Kim were the first band I got record collecting about. With Doe Maar I depended on my parents buying me the albums, but now I devoted my pocket money to Mel & Kim. I even dared to amateuristic do my hair like them. I played their album, a 9-track affair, constantly. It was pop, dancable pop with a r'n'b basis. I was massively into Mel & Kim.

Mel fell down the stairs. She was down with a serious back injury. This was a set back but she would return right? It was only a back injury. Right?

They hadn't actually lied, she was down with metastatic paraganglioma, cancer. It was denied for a long time but when pictures emerged of a very swollen Melanie trying her first steps again, they confirmed that she had in fact cancer. It wasn't the first time she had suffered from cancer, she had liver cancer at the age of 18. She would be okay. And she wasn't thinking of dying. In a German magazine they spoke about death but I cut it out of the article prior to sticking it into my scrap book.

They released a new single in 1988. Things would be okay. They had to be. It became quiet about the girls again. Until January 1990. It rained that morning. I met with a friend at the traffic light, like every morning, as we drove to school together. She told me Mel had died. Liar, I said at first but then I cried. I cried on my bicycle in the rain all the way to school. At school people came to me telling me they were sorry for me. Back home I sat under my desk unable to look at my posters, looking at Mel smiling on these images. She had died of pneumonia, she was weakened by the chemotherapy. It was said she had beat cancer.

Mel was only 23 when she died. It's nor her birthday today either, but I had to think of her today, as I do every now and then. She was such a bright spirit, her laughter features in their UK number 1 'Respectable'. She was the first musician who died while I was being a fan. I hope other people remember her as well. Even if it's as part of 'that annoying Stock Aitken & Waterman production'. For this 11-year-old, she was cool. And, as questionable as it may seem now, a fashion icon.

Ignore the ignorant - total bliss

A few months ago I decided to never go on the website of Dutch (tabloid) newspaper De Telegraaf again. It's not just because of headlines such as 'Monique Smit buys puppy!!' (Monique Smit is the little sister of a Dutch reasonable famous singer, Jan Smit), it's also because of their political preferences and even more so of the political prefereneces of their readers who have nothing better to do than comment on every article published blaming the left-parties. Who are also blamed for the weather and I wish I was making that up. Fair does it though that the middle-of-the-road and right from it person deserves their own newspaper, after all the so-called left-ones got the more serious paper De Volkskrant, so I'm not dissing the excistance of De Telegraaf per-sé, but reading it and especially the reactions from their readers made me physically ill because I got so angry about them.

Ever since I decided to avoid De Telegraaf I'm doing much better. Reading an online newspaper can be a force of habit, it was hard at first, but I don't miss it at all. Do I miss out on news? No I don't. Do I still know which celebraties are falling out to each other? I do. Trending topics do that. My colleagues tell me that. So I'm totally up to date with things I don't need to know. And I'm much healthier.

After this Big Success I'm now starting my next website-ban. NME.com. I don't get ill going on there but do I really need to read about all the hypes I am NOT interested in? How often did I fall for the trick that this band is The New Shit and in reality they were just as shit as the previous New Shit hailed the previous week? Sure, loads of people are into that and that's fine, for them the NME is heaven but why on Earth did I get into this force of habit? Boredom? That I still want to know 'what's going on'? To annoy myself? To question humanity why hyped band so and so gets the praise and a fairly good band from the North West doesn't?

No more. No more NME.com for me. Will I miss out? No, because thanks to the people I follow on twitter and the trending topics I will get the news. Of releases I'm not interested in. Fair does it of course, because for the so-called snobby people like me there's a source as well and that's the ... well, I still haven't found it yet but I'm sure there is (maybe it's the city of Portland instead of an online magazine). I mean, I still find great music on the web, I think I know what I need to know (and sometimes more than I bargained for) about the musicians I like, really, do I depend on a online website I only shake my head about? I'm breaking another habit. And soon I will be a good person again.

The universal language of the central heating pipe

Do you live in an appartment and do you warm your rooms with central heating? Then you know this. If your neighbours are making noise there's only one way to let them know they're making noise. This is not by knocking on their door and tell them or leave a passive aggressive note in the general entrance but by making noise. You could of course stomp back, put the volume up of your TV or stereo (or laptop), hamer against the wall. If you're not entirely sure who the obnoxious neighbour is who is making the noise, there seems to be only one way to let your neighbour know - by ticking or hammering against the pipes of the central heating. This, in case you are unaware, is heard in the entire building. Success guaranteed.

I live in an appartment building with 108 other households. Roughly counted. The block is 13 storeys high. One of the few living together rules of the building says that you're not supposed to make noise, putting a painting on the wall included, after 9pm til roughly 7am and not on Sundays. If someone at 9.05pm suddenly wakes up and remembers he or she needs to hammer that needle in the wall, you just know that at 9.05pm and 15 seconds someone ticks a coin or some sort against the central heating pipe. The Building Newspaper (a folded A4 with the 'latest' about the building) has reminded the residents 'NOT TO COMMUNICATE VIA CENTRAL HEATING PIPES'. It still happens, of course.

Last night I was brutally awoken by radio alarm clock. Not my own but by one of my neighbours. The music continued to penetrate my bedroom and indeed yes, it was annoying. I didn't want to know the time but I looked anyway. 3am. For fuck's sake! I understand some people need to get up at 3am and that it's hard but there's no need to share this experience. Apparently other residents in the building shared this opinion and weren't patient enough to search for a coin at this hour. Instead they kicked hard against the central heating pipes which probably must have woken up half the building. The message got through - the music stopped.

I don't know most of the people in this building but I'm superglad to know we all know how to communicate. If the same scene repeats tonight I might resort to the passive aggressive note. It won't wake people up at least.

The rock star as we know it is dead.

Thanks to the social networks, the internet in general, the blogs, the news site, the quick connection between internet users who post links to news, videos and what not to each other, even to people they don't know, thanks to all that, it's quite easy to keep up with what your favourite artist is doing nowadays. Artists themselves are helping as well be tweeting their every move. You know where they are, what they eat, what they listen to and what they don't like.

Back in the days musicians were rock stars with their rock and roll attitude. All we knew about them was that they trashed hotel rooms, had loads of groupies and were constantly drunk or high (or both). There was this 'wow' factor around them, they were untouchable, they were heroes despite their constructive ways. Rock stars were cool. They stuck a finger up against society, they rebelled, they yelled, they were mystical creatures. They were gods.

Thanks to rock stars using twitter we know what they eat, where they eat, that they giggle when they're drunk, what they're wearing, that they went to visit aunty in the elderly home, that they listen to Girls Aloud, and like the next scenster kid think they are true and originals individuals not following any herd whatsoever. Rock stars still believe they are rock stars but surely, when rock stars tweet the same things your neighbour does, you little sister does, that politician does. We don't really want to see our neighbours latest butt tattoo just as much we really don't want to see Courtney Love's latest butt tattoo. So your brother is looking for some weed, that info is just as useless as The Thermals offering free tickets for anyone who brings weed to the show. Rock stars complain about their fans taking pictures during the concert and tweeting them immediately but when their rock star friends are doing the same it's fun. Musicians tweeting each other to meet up for a drink? Dude, use the telephone and TALK to each other!

I wonder, the stalker who lives in each and every one of us embraces the internet and the social networks and the rock stars greedily abusing the networks, we know more than ever about our heroes but really, is it really all that good? We technically could talk to the rock stars (if they weren't as friend-shallow as your next door neighbour only), but isn't it much nicer to meet them after a show and be actually excited about meeting this star? Don't we rather hear about rock stars trashing a hotel room rather than them meeting each other for a cup of tea at the house of the guitarist's mother? Didn't the internet, the quick media and us fans exchanging news and other info so quickly and easily not take away the mystique of the rock and roll star?

As much as some of us might moarn the death of that mystical rock star, we too wait for that rock star to finally tweet something, only to make fun of the tweet and considering him a wanker, just like that boy that lives across the street is. Rock stars of the 21st century are boring people just like you and me, no matter how outrageously they may dress. We've all come to accept it.

The Kaiser Chiefs and I - a tragic lovestory

As it's more and more evident that Kaiser Chiefs wil return this summer, here's a little something I'd like to call 'Kaiser Chiefs and I'. If it remains an exciting Trilogy is entirely up to the men from Leeds themselves.

In the beginning...
I was majorly into Kaizers Orchestra. I ompaad through my days. Kaizers were King. A band called Kaiser Chiefs came along but I ignored. My sister poked me, saying that I should check them out because they were good. But you know, there can only be one Kaizer and for me that was the Orchestra. Up until I saw 'Oh my god' in the last days of MTV showing music videos. Then I heard 'I predict a riot'. I bought 'Employment' and realised that there can be indeed two Kaizers.
Their club shows were unbelievable. Such energy. I enjoyed everything from the balcony and they became my favourite band. I ignored their 5,000 capacity HMH gig until the moment I thought that I might give the band a go in that venue as well, realising it was sold out. I didn't mind. Slowly I became aware of the fans and how they rocked and rolled. I'm not a big fan of fans (or it has to be the SBS6 tv show 'Fans!'). I've never really fitted in with any fanbase. Though with the Chiefs I became a regular on the forum. And thanks to Ricky Wilson's amazing appearence in Never Mind The Buzzcocks I started to realise that these friends of theirs, The Cribs, are actually pretty nice guys too. Making great music. Heavier. But greatly amazing.

Everything is average nowadays...
Ruby Ruby Ruby!! Album number two was highly anticipated and my sister arranged a special hearing session for me (in our living room) and I loved it upon firts hearing though I already spotted some dodgyness. It sure wasn't 'Employment' but it was good. We went to both Paradiso shows, my colleagues knew me as nothing more or less as a Kaiser Chiefs fan and I left the front row for Interpol at Lowlands to run across the grounds on my own to get a somewhat decent spot to see them Kaisers. My love for Kaizers Orchestra had somewhat run down. There's only so much love for a Kaizer you can have. I met nice people through the band's forum. I never actually met them at gigs but with a select few I kept in touch outside the forum. It's amazing how music connects. I wanted to diss the 5,000 capacity HMH but in some weird run down of affairs I ended up there anyway. It wasn't that bad. Though I liked the support band no one liked a lot more than the band that everyone adored. Something about the band started to irritate me as well. Especially drummer Nick started for no particular reason to get on my nerves. There was something weird about the band and it wasn't just the fans. It was the band itself as well. As my love grew for the Cribs I started to see how much they grew apart, the Chiefs and the Cribs, and that was actually kind of sad. The Cribs due to their raw live shows filled with raw energy and their pure honesty got the best of me. They overtook the band who made me aware of them in the first place. Outch?

Off I say, off with their heads, off, off! (or the Show Down)
Riding high on success, they didn't really want to release an album but then there was Mark 'Horn section' Ronson and he wanted to work with them, they didn't plan it but they wrapped up an album for ragerdless. Of course, the fanbase loved it. To me it was the most uninspired piece of garbage compressed in 30 minutes. I couldn't get myself around on spending money on that album. I found it later for 3 pounds in Tesco's and I still couldn't get myself to spend even 3 pounds on that piece of crap. I was quite vocal about that commercial suicide, honesty doesn't pay off well. But to me, how could a band that always claimed to stay true to themselves, sell out so shamefully? Hanging out with celebrities they hated so much, making bland music, claiming they were doing so well where instead I wasn't the only one who thought the album was by all means really shit.

I did go see them volunteerly in the HMH. It was sold out. I met up with the girls I met at a radio show earlier which was the highlight of the entire event. I stood front row and hated, absolutely hated the support act. What was I doing here? This is the new indie and I hate the new indie. Kaiser Chiefs had become the new indie. They had sold out. It became so evident when they hit the stage. And I realised the love is gone. The band I had adored for the past years was gone and it was a tough thing to swallow. I knew that it would stop right here right now. Early on in the show they played 'Modern Way' from their first album and I let myself go, I sang my heart out, that song still is my favourite. I cried, front row, I was sincerly sad to know that this band is not my band anymore. It sounds overly dramatic now but I wasn't having a good time in overall as they played most from their latest album. The grand final 'Oh my god' was cut short which didn't do my mood very good.

One person however told me to get over myself for not liking what they were doing right now. He had seen me at the gig and wondered why on earth a person on front row would cry and look so incredibly depressed. I know I have no pokerface but that this person was telling me he saw me in that state was quite shocking. This person was band member Simon Rix. I stood on the left side of the stage, he on the right side. And he had seen me. It's not a nice knowledge to know that the band is indeed able to see the people in the crowd. Fuck my life really. After that came anger. Who the hell was he to tell me to get over myself and that they were doing so well with great songs they loved playing? Kaiser Chiefs from then on were a done deal for me. What a band of wankers.

The Kaiser Chiefs make a return this summer with a festival tour and a new album. I'm curious but I don't have my hopes high up. I think them Chiefs have showed their true faces and I didn't like them. It's not a big deal. Loads of people will like it and that's fine. There will always be something special attached to the Kaiser Chiefs for me. But that awful third album will never make it to my record collection and I doubt the fourth will as well.

Because I'm way cooler than that

Let's talk about 'Old Skool keeping it real, I don't like anything after the first demo'* fans for a second. You know the kind. Long before a gig is announced they have everyone know they by no means are going for front row because they're too good for that, only to queue hours before the doors open, run to the bar and have a loud drink with other 'holier than thou' fans only to reclaim a front spot during the gig by obnoxiously pushing other fans away, calling it moshing and having a good time and boast after the gig about their bruises, injuries and puking over the pavement (not the band). Every band has them. You can say all you want about the fangirls (and fanboys alike) with their cameras giggling their way through meeting a bandmember / crewmember / support band / bus window cleaner, at least they're honest. They like the band and they're not ashamed to show it. Annoying as that may be for other fans and band alike, at least they're not pretending to be something they're not.

I will never understand why people queue only to dash to the bar first. I will never understand why fans think they own the front spaces even though they only come to the stage when the band is on. I will never understand why you need to show off loudly when you do know that old song the band is playing. I will never understand why you need to shout the names of the crew when they're setting up.

But what I really will never understand why you have to tell with every release that you prefer the first album or their even earlier days. If you don't like anything as much as the first fart the band let out, why still bother? If album after album you don't like it that much, give it up. The band will not go back to recording that same old fart over and over again. Interests change. People change. Bands change. At least, that's the healthy way. So, give it up. Don't patronise the fan who does like the new release. Don't patronise the fan who prefers to stand in front row (some of us are only 5'6"). Don't patronise the band for evolving after they released their first album. Either own up that you too like the new stuff and enjoy it or shut up and let it be. There's no shame in stop liking a band if they go for a direction you're not interested in. But if that direction is releasing real albums on a real label and getting a little bit more successful, I do have the right to pity you.

* quote by Gary Jarman, feb 2007 on myspace. He meant to address his own old-school fans. He's a hero.

Revolution is of all times and ages and there's a new one coming

If I had been granted unlimited internet access, lived in Olympia or in a sleepy UK town and a little bit older and had the right friends (absolutely nothing wrong with the friends I had, they lacked the exact same things I lacked), I probably was a riot grrrl in the early nineties loving all the riot grrrl bands playing it right at that time. I probably wouldn't have been able to see them play, I'm not even sure how I would even know about them, being a teenage girl in Rotterdam, the Netherlands who's friends were into Metallica and Dream Theatre and (later on) Nirvana. I would have had to rely on mixtapes from America. I had none. But without all that I think, looking back, I might have been one all along and ever since. Because, it's not a music genre, it's a social subculture. This is pretty much what it was and what it still is. It's not death, it never was. A movement can be small and pushed back by male dominance and the media (which could be regarded the same thing).

I've always loved music more than the average person (except a few years after Doe Maar broke up, I must have been that upset that I shut down from music altogether and when I saw a poster of ballet shoes in the room of a friend I thought 'So, this must be this Spandau Ballet everyone is all about.' No shit.), listening to the lyrics of one of the Doe Maar albums I seriously questioned why my mother would let a 6-year-old listen to that, it's Dutch so I understood every word, I just didn't know what they meant. But I'm grateful today and my mother told me she let me have the albums as she found them educational for me. I enjoyed playing DJ in my room, made re-mixes of my favourite songs with my records and a tape recorded, made hit lists, made my own music magazine, wrote my own reviews, even about albums that didn't exist. My music evolution knows some questionable choices but you got to know your enemy before forming an opinion right (coughs)? And one Easter break I sat with my sister in a caravan and we talked about forming a band together. I wrote down some lyrics and we both were content with them. The idea of forming a band together returned a couple of times in our lives. I own a guitar, an electric guitar, a ukulele (a green one and it's the coolest you'll ever see). I've played drums on a friend's kit back in high school to which he informed me I was the best player of everyone there (I at least knew how to hold the sticks). I wanted to be a harmonica player and owned a few cheap ones (much to the stress of my parents). My aunt actually gave me her guitar when I was about 14. I've always been aware of the politics of our country, I've always questioned the role of women in this world, I'm a socialist ever since I was able to vote (and probably before as well), every job test I made in school said I should be a social worker (not regarding I'm really socially awkward and don't trust people that much. If you're my friend consider yourself lucky), I've been called a true punk throughout my life without seeing myself as one ('I don't have the looks!'), and if I do something on a regular basis it's kicking against society. In the comfort of my own home.

Why on earth did I never form that band you say? There's one very good reason and it's not even my voice (I auditioned for a band once and let's say my friends were not impressed though they never told me directly). I have the music ability of a penguin. Place a penguin at the carnival in Rio and it will dance as hopelessly I will. A penguin has just as much chance to play a decent chord on a guitar with its wings than I have with my hands. I often do not sing at concerts because I don't want to insult the band. Usually the only person who can hear me sing is myself and that's enough to put me off. I may have all the inspiration and intentions to be in the best punk band you've ever seen but, to use the wise words of Joost Belifante about violist in my own situation; I'm a trans-musician. A musician in the body of a total none-musician. It sucks doesn't it?

There are others things I could do. Yesterday when I saw the Socialist Party handing out their newspaper for the States Election this March I approached one of them and he happened to be the chairman of the division where I live. If they needed some helping hands. I have no idea if I'm able to do it, if I can get out of the comfort zone of sitting on my couch with my laptop and being utterly passive aggressive behind a screen, ranting about music, politics and social atrocities in a blog and on twitter. I feel a revolution happening. And who knows, I might dis my inner penguin and play protest songs for real. I'm not too old. No one is too old. As Ernst Jansz told me "It's entirely up to you".

It's the apocalypse! Do you remember? Hello?

Birds fall dead from the sky! Fish die in lakes! Chemical plants go up in flames! The apocalypse is there!

Of course the fire yesterday in the South West (Moerdijk to be precise, an industrial small town between Rotterdam and Breda) that kept the Netherlands quite worried doesn't relate to the mysterious deaths of the birds and the fish in America and Sweden, though if this would occur in the Netherlands these coming days, we at least do have an explaination for it. Because as much the authorities tell us no toxic gasses have been released during yesterday's massive fire at a huge chemical plant, the entire chemical plants has burned down and tanks have been exploded live on television, this material is somewhere, being a hazard to our health or not, they are somewhere in the sky. I'm not one quickly to shout catastrophy and will not do this now, but saying nothing has escaped? Does that mean all the chemicals are left on the ground where once was a chemical plant?

Of course this was wonderful TV. A reporter a few meters away from the fire, reporting with explosions clearly visable in the back (Hollywood must have been so jealous of that footage), saying he's allowed to stand there, the wind blows into the other directions, he does have a dry mouth and his tongue tingles, but all is safe and sound. Kaboom! As you can see, explosions still occur, people are ordered to keep their doors and windows shut. Another reporter reports from an empty street that people do keep inside. The weather reporters explain how the wind works in layers, tell us the rain which was predicted will take whatever is blown into the air down and shows us where the wind will take the remainings of the fire. Amsterdam is safe. However, a friend of this weather reporter has told him he could smell something funny all the way in Schiphol! Sidenote, Schiphol is the airport close to Amsterdam and is an AIRPORT. Kerosine anyone? Still, the whole inferno, as one newspaper called it this morning, made an impression on me. It also launched a lot of jokes, some of which I won't repeat in an open blog. And that were just my jokes!

It also raised one question. Do we remember this apocalypse in a month time? Will it make it to the year-end lists and stand-up shows? As much as we get off on all these reports of catastrophies, we forget about them just as quickly. Ask anyone over 30 and they can tell you all about Tsjernobyl. But try the same thing in 25 years with Moerdijk (where I strongly need to add that Tsjernobyl was a lot worse than what happened in Moerdijk). We have all the media feeding us with news, information and pictures, which we had a lot less of 25 years ago, but the more we know and see, the less impact it makes and how easily we forget. There's something really bitter about that and it isn't falling from the sky right now.

And we party like it's 1983 (this is an Orwell reference indeed)

The gap between left and right hasn't been so big since the nazis invaded the former republic of Russia. It's a worrying climate the Netherlands are in and it is getting worse by the hour. Here's a recap in short about our government: largest party is VVD with Mark Rutte as our MP, together with CDA (4th largest party and biggest loser of our last elections). They are two mid-right parties. By no means they have the majority so after a four months (!!) coalition formation they decided to reign together with support of the PVV, the party of Geert Wilders who is notoriously known for his hatred against immigrants (I say it politically correct, he however does not) and the 3d largest party, 100% right-winged with no democracy whatsoever in the party structure. These three parties together have 76 seats, the opposition has 75.

You might wonder what happened to the second largest party, which is the workers party (left indeed) PvdA. They gained 32 seats during the last elections, against 33 of VVD. If this makes you scratch the back of your head right now, join the club.

Ever since the elections something happened, I didn't call it an attack at the time but I will call it that way now. Literally everything that is associated with left wing politics or even considered something only left wingers are interested in (culture (!!) being the top target) has been put into bad lighting. I had no idea where this suddenly came from, left is blamed for everything, the bad economy, the traffic jams, the immigrants, the lazy students, safety in trains, playing children, the weather, you name it, left did it. Question though: when did left reign this country? The former largest party was CDA, right, and they have been for 8 years with 4 different formations. Yes, you may scratch the back of your head again.

Left is blamed for helping the ill and the old and fragile, taking care for the asylum seekers, drinking tea with immigrants (this was one of the leading phrases during our last elections), wanting better care at elederly homes and hospitals, supporting useless goods such as music, theatre, performing arts and art. To compare, PVV is blamed for rasicm, spreading hate and having violent people in there party. Seems black and white and you might think this is left-propaganda. I wish it was. I would like to say something positive about the PVV because they do have some good points but so far all these points have been put aside and ignored. So much for sticking to their programm, it's all about power isn't it?

Let's get back to culture, which is suddenly called an unecessary good. Something you don't really need. People do not need to unwind. So, let's stop the allowance to the cultural section. We need to save right? Look, we all have to save up, and that you're cutting allowances, no big deal. But not as radically as they're planning to. As if culture relies on this allowance. As if we pay for the violist on the street corner. We don't. We do however pay collectively for the security of Wilders. But at least it saves a lot of money right? Well, it's enough to pave about 3 km of new highway... It comes down to an average cut of allowance of 8%, except for the cultural section, that depeartment will be cut with 20%. That's without taking the tax-raise on tickets in consideration.

This tax raise on concert, theatre tickets will be the end of a lot of venues as they won't get more money as the only thing that's raised is the taxes. It will lead to less income because less people will be able to even pay for this tickets. Which will lead to venues contracting less artists will lead to less culture in this country.

Success for those who want to kill culture. Success for the right winged barbarians. Who exactly is responsible for this tax raise anyway? Our PM? No, PM Rutte has given up STOPPING the tax raise for one reason: Geert Wilders wants the tax raise. And to stop the tax raise on tickets, reasons Wilders, you'll need an agreement of all three parties.

Wilders is the supporting party. Rutte is the PM. But Rutte is bowing down to Wilders. Wilders is having the power. Wilders is able to control and direct everything our government is supposed to to. Wilders is NOT part of the cabinet. But he CONTROLS the cabinet. What the fuck man, just, what the fuck.

Wilders and the PVV, which contains members who have been charged for violence (knocking down someone at a news conference for instance) and sexual offences are not just creating hatred against immigrants in this country, they are effectively tearing this country apart in left and right and putting all the blame on left. Say what you want, that guy is highly effective in what he's doing.

Isn't left doing anything? I doubt what PvdA will do, but the smaller ones, GroenLinks and D66 are barking loud. Which the media often doesn't portrait too nicely. The only left-winged party that seems to address this big dangerous issue with intelligence is the SP. Ooooh, the SP, scary! SP stands for Socialist Party. But right now it just seems that the entire future of this country is in the hands of the SP and their new and capable leader Emile Roemer. He speaks clearly and is determined. Also, it may not seem important but it is, this man has wit. For instance, this party fights for the socially disadvantaged such as the disabled, the elderly but also for the mailmen and this for years, because they'll lose their jobs due to ridiculous restructuring of the company caused by the government allowing other mail-companies in this country. But all these things are 'linkse hobbies' now, left-winged hobbies.

I'm a concert go-er. I'm a photographer. A blogger. A woman. I'm a member of the SP. I'm an immigrant. Though, my parents are German and as MP Rutte will reason, Germany is not Turkey. So maybe I have the right to lead a normal, carefree and not-hunted life after all, protected by Rutte. But I doubt it. If everything develops the way it does now, I'm pretty much screwed and might have to, eventually, fear for my safety.

What is the sound of an avalanche taking out a dolphin?

I've been blogging lately without forcing it down the throats of my twitter followers (meaning me tweeting the link, not sure if my entire twitter following reads it but I don't expect them to). Not sure why really, I had something to say, the good and the bad, just to get it out of the system. Nothing wrong with that.

I'm currently more than just obsessed (I have no other word for that) with the band WILD FLAG. In case you lived under a rock, have no interest in whatever happens in the Portland music scene nor the post-riot-grrrl movement, do not care what pitchfork has to say, etc here's who's in WILD FLAG: Carrie Brownstein, Janet Weiss, Mary Timony, Rebecca Cole. And if that doesn't make you just the slightest excited than you probably don't understand why I am so excited about a band who only formed a few months ago, has not recorded one single note, did not tell anything about what exactly they sound like. They do have a record deal and will be recording their first album (insert fan-girlish squeak here) and are currently on tour at the US West Coast. I am jealous of each person who is attending their shows. All of them. I mean, grrrr, I wanna be there too!!! But I'm here in Amsterdam and chances are that I probably will never see them (which I also thought with Quasi, so who knows) so what's left for me is hoping someone has recorded it and thankfully, there are 3 videos out there and my oh my! I hate live recordings but not these. It's all I got! And these women rock, like you'd expect them too. They all sing, which is fantastic news because Janet Weiss has a fantastic voice too, and they just sound fantastic. Most anticipated album of 2011? Yes! Best album of 2011? I have no idea who else will release albums in 2011 (apart from the Decemberists which first song from that album is amazing as well), but I can already tell they have a good chance! It's been a while since I was so excited about a new band. And you know what, I'm loving it.

It's November and crawling towards December and we all know what that means. Indeed, End Of The Year Lists. Oh yeah. I never agree with these lists by so-called experts and always wonder why they left out them and them and them. But I read them anyway, hoping someone will meet my standards. Will I make them as well? Of course. Will I force them through the throats of my twitter following? You bet I will! I've been thinking about my best albums, songs and live gigs of 2010 already and it's not as easy as one might think. It's not that I don't know what the best album of 2010 is (I know this since February) nor what the best song is (since January) but who else is in the list and in what order? It's time to get serious about this.

Disgusted by men

There are many reasons why our current government sucks. It's easy to say that something sucks but for now, it quite covers it. The newest fact why we have a terrible government are the latest revelations about one of the members of the chambers of the PVV, the party lead by Geert Wilders. This Erik Lucassen has a criminal record and certainly someone with a criminal record should not be part of any government, PVV is the party that supports our minority cabinet. With this criminal record he should be fired from the party, meaning that the cabinet with support of the PVV will no longer have the majority in the chamber as this majority was only one chair. Wilders now whines he had no money to backtrack the records of his people in the chamber. Only a look on this man's CV should have resulted in ringing alarm bells and worth the E30,05, which a backtrack costs, alone. This in short. Imagine the crisis in our government. I told you Rutte 1 would not live to see the end of 2010.

This all however is not the reason I fumed with rage reading the latest news about this. Lucassen's criminal record includes sexual offences, as a higher officer in the military. He is supposed to have had sex with two female cadets which is strictly forbidden as it implies abuse of military powers. As it now appears, things are a lot worse than a difference in class.

In 2000 someone within the military already warned that within the military school 30 'bastards' as he called them, have been threatening females cadets between the age of 17 and 20 to not hand them out their well-deserved diplomas unless they were having sex with them. These girls were used as (I translate the original quote) 'play balls' and passed around between these instructors and were named 'fuck dolls'. Whether Lucassen was one of these 30 remains unknown at the time I'm writing this, fact is he had to leave the military in 2002 due to 'sexual offences'.

What the fuck is going on? We can't trust priests because they are abusing little boys, we can't trust cops because they abuse their 13-year-old neighbour girl and killing her as well (this is a current trial in the Netherlands, apparently he has psychological problems and a 'troubled youth'. How this man made it into the police force is beyond me) and now the military is abusing women as well? What is this? Are men really these sex-obsessed monsters who will fuck any women within their reach and get extra high if they can use power and possibly violence? Am I, as a woman, the hunted every time I go on the streets? Are women really just 'fuck dolls' in the eyes of men? I don't want to generalise and surely the majority of the men knows it's perfectly normal to keep your dick in your pants for most of the time but you really start to doubt this. I start to doubt this. Sex is all a men wants and he is going to get it. He will take the weak (children and mentally handicapped, not overreacting on the later, a swim-instructor has admitted to 'take' the mentally handicapped because according to him they wouldn't remember so he would do no damage) and of course women because that's what women are for right? To lust over, to humiliate, to rule over, to have sex with whenever he wants it. Oh and to serve him of course. It disgusts me. 21st century and we still act like we're living in the stone age. Yes, I'm utterly disgusted. Again, thanks to the current government but this time in a way I least expected it.

The ballad of the Dr Martens boots

For some reason of another I have a weakness for Dr. Martens boots since the early days of the 90s. Something about punk and grunge. During Spring and Summer I practically sleep in my green Converse, when the weather turns grey and therefore wet, kissing them goodbye isn't so hard as my Dr. Martens boots are waiting.

It's not that I have a complete rainbow of boots lying around in the house, it's been too long since they only cost 19.99 in the UK so quite frankly, I would refuse that. I'm a sales shopper, because money can only buy you so much so make the most of it. It doesn't mean I don't walk past windows and sigh to all the pretty colours on display. I'm really content with my pink boots, the most expensive pair I own. I bought them in Manchester and I felt like splashing out. Women are known for shoe-addictions, I don't really have that but those, I fell in love. I took my time fitting them and they're regulars on my feet. As are my white ones. These, I'll admit, are actually fakes but they have been mistaken for real and you know what, they are comfy, they are cool and they are white. Deal with it. And there's the purple ones I bought on sale, 80 euros off! Only that one pair! Of course they went home.

In case you never wore any Dr Martens boots, here's a few basic rules. The size you need is usually larger than what you're usually wearing (I have the smallest possible feet, it's a blessing and an ego-booster), you need to remember the number of eyes in case you're buying none-matching shoe-laces and every pair of Dr. Martens boots require a (at least) two week torment walking in the boots, making them fitting to your very own feet and soften the leather. Get the bandage! But you will not speak of it while walking, but everyone will tell by the look on your face and the way you walk, especially the way you walk. It's the Way of the Boots and we follow that.

These purple ones. They are half a size smaller than the pink ones. But, they fit. They honestly do. But still they hurt like having stone cropped around your feet. The leather seems to refuse to soften up. The right foot is fine, but then it's my smaller one (my feet have different shoe sizes) but the left. As if a knife cuts on top of it. The stitches feel like they left the needles in. It's the Way of the Dr Martens Boots. So you are brave, one day the left boot will be just as comfortable. Because, as we all know, once you've been through torture, those boots will be most comfortable and even if they're not they are. I'll get you purple boots!

There's total understanding in all of this if you're able to sing 'Dr Martens, Dr Martens, Dr Martens boots. No, don't you want me' perfectly out of tune and are able to perform the dance to it too. They send out a signal as well and especially now, in the grim dark Netherlands, I'm wearing them with more pride than ever before. Something about the repressed working class.

Be my baby, baby, baby

There is something you should know if you don't know it already. I do not want children. It's the whole process of being pregnant (I watched too many sci-fi movies about Alien invasion and intergration), never mind the actual birth. Then it's pretty much losing your freedom, though you seem to get a lot in return, and the whole raising the child in a not so friendly environment. I do have my ideas about how to raise a child but I can't influence everyone around me from the paperboy to the wild man on the street preaching about the apocalypse so that's all too challenging for me. Maybe I don't even like children all that much. But then there's a first for everything. One of my best friends, someone who does share my views, had a baby. I visited her a few weeks after her live attendance of a horror movie (read: giving birth) and instantly had a fragile baby in my arms. I must have looked horrified and to be honest, I was a little. Little Alex was so fragile, so small, pooping a lot. I had no idea what to do with it. But somehow, I loved getting pictures of him, loved her stories (not the ones about not being able to go everywhere she likes so easily, though baby Alex has already been to Belgium and Norway and attended a barbecue at a Norwegian river in October) and I was really looking forward to seeing him again as my friend would come to Amsterdam to visit me.

She lives in a smaller town near Rotterdam and took the train. As the trains from her hometown didn't go this weekend due to railwork she had to rely on her husband taking her to another train station and as he had somewhere to go himself that day it was a bit early. Never mind the 08:15 (on Sunday!) train not going either. She decided to take the next train to the Hague, trying to get a train to Amsterdam there. While we were texting I checked the website of our national trainoperator whether there was more railworks. A whole dozen of them! And naturally another one on the track she had to take. "Whatever you do, don't go via Haarlem!" I texted. Because having a buggy in the train being alone seemed hard enough in itself, I didn't want her to get on busses either. In the end she hopped off halfway to get on the train to Amsterdam (I'm still impressed she managed) and we met at the central station.

I had offered earlier that I would like to get behind the buggy, all in the eye of revenge. Trying to to be run over by buggies is not a sport, it's survival. In my eyes, mothers with buggies are simply using their buggy to shamelessly marche their way through town or wherever they are. Really annoying. So, now it's my turn! And my friend let me because she always felt the same about that.

I got the full baby experience. I spent the entire day behind the buggy and it was great. I never walked through the Kalverstraat with such ease as this Sunday. I wasn't even going through town with my zero tolerance policy, I just walked and it's never been that easy. People do look differently at you with a buggy and are actually being nice to you. I know I might have been lucky but it's really a whole different experience. And my friend? She enjoyed walking around freely.
Our first challenge was Burger King. Don't expect anything else open in a Sunday morning in Amsterdam. We wanted a coffee and a draft free place to feed Alex. We carried the buggy upstairs and found a nice place. I instantly had baby Alex on my lap. The little man had grown quite a bit these 4 months and I actually dared to hold him and move at the same time. We caught up, talked and talked, he got a fresh diaper (that's actually the only thing I didn't do during this baby experience), I helped him getting into his jacket again and off we went, carrying the buggy down and into town. Getting in and out the shops. And I was amazed about just how easy that was. Alex didn't mind the bumpy roads, in fact he loved it. Whenever we didn't walk he opened his eyes as if he were to say 'hey come on and keep walking, I like that!'. Getting into the stores was a little challenging, some had a high entrance, but still it went well. People actually held the doors open for me. Wow! Of course he went into a record store where I told him he would be in these stores a whole lot in his life (he's going to be a rocker, of course) and getting into that small entrance wasn't as impossible I believed it was. There's something clever about how these buggies are wheeled. We also went into H&M to get the little man some clothes and I took a teddy polar bear off the shelf and held in in front of him, playing with it and buying it for him. Apparently it's his favourite toy right now. I also fed him at a restaurant later on and though he was quite heavy it was an experience.

It was time for her and him to go so I carried him to the rail station. Carried because he was getting a little moody at that time and started to cry a little. It's true, if the baby crying is yours it's way less annoying, in fact, I didn't think it was annoying at all and managed to make him stop a few times as well, which also included carrying him on my arms. With the elevator we went to her train and had to rush even, I helped her carrying the buggy inside and had time to say goodbye and off they went. Back home where she had to take a substitute rail bus which denied her because of the buggy (wtf man). And as I was walking to my tram I actually missed the little man. The buggy, the smile on his face. Damn.

Did this make me change my mind about having a child of my own? Hell no. It still involves something growing inside of me, it still involves birth and it still involves losing a piece of your freedom. My friend and I talked about this and it was something she found hard as well but the cliché was true, the smile of her baby made it worth it or at least easier. She would do everything for her baby, more for him as for her husband. And of course a 4 month old is a whole different child than a 2-year-old who is learning to walk and run and being naughty. But I did get a better insight on what it's like to have a baby, how it does limit you but also how rewarding that little smile is and that you really do not break a child in two when you move. The purpose of her visit was my birthday (don't worry, it's only next month) and one of her gifts was a Rock Bible. I think I want to be that child's cool aunty. Let's see what he thinks about it when he grows older but so far I think he likes me. And for someone who thinks she just can't handle and deal with children, that's quite something.

The only thing I worry about is if I have removed the cap of my camera while taking his picture or left it stupidly on.

Vinegar pissing all the way to my grave

All my colleagues, both of them, had a bit of a conversation today about how it's not such a good idea to become a first class 'azijnpisser' (azijn = vinegar, pisser = well, a guy who pisses) as it only makes you bitter and not a pleasant person to be around with. I didn't take part in that conversation partly because I was actually doing some work but also because I don't own a badge saying 'voted most likely to piss and moan all the way to the grave' for no reason at all. With the work done, reading some news headlines and reading some tweets from respected musicians I got to say, today I'm really in top form when it comes down to be an edgy moaning bitter depressed human being. Marvin, eat your heart out!

For once it's not the grim politic climate the Netherlands is in, though it is a constant factor. For instance, yesterday I read that not just 60% of all Dutch venues are running the high risk of having to close if the ticket prices will really rise with at least 13%, it was something I was already aware of, but what I wasn't aware of or maybe didn't want to see (I'm a first class music doom-thinker, sadly I'm often right too) was that it would also result in less bands coming to the Netherlands. Even less! And whenever there is an article in the papers you can respond to, no matter what the subject is, there will always be people attacking left-wingers. Everything is the left-side fault. Whatever did we do? Have we been in charge lately? I feel like there's some propaganda going on. I feel extremely paranoid but if the (right sided) government wants to shut off the public broadcasting from the internet, because they have no business there, what else is going on? Since when do we FORBID people being online? Have they committed crimes? Are they offering illegal contents on their websites? When will the readers be fined? Come on! Has anyone read George Orwell's 1984?? In there the news and all history is systematically changed in favour of The Great Leader. Just saying.

Today's headlines yelled about a plane crashed in Cuba. They probably wouldn't have yelled so much if there hadn't been 3 Dutch people onboard and all 68 passengers had died. To be honest, I haven't really read the article, it was depressing enough in itself (lifting out the three Dutch people is one thing, like they matter more than the other 65 people who have lost their lives in this tragedy) plus the picture of a huge ball of fire, I think it was what is left of the plane, spoke for itself. Also, 20 people died in a plane crash in Pakistan. And a bomb has been found in a plane that departed from Schiphol. Slightly depressed I went to twitter, the number one resource for news. If there's a place news spreads like the plague it's Twitter. Every time I see a famous person trending I think that person died (which is the case half of the time). Surely the plane crashes are trending.

The world is coming to a dramatic end but fear not: the MacRib is back! Yes it's true, MacDonald's brings back the MacRib in all its top-trending glory. Of course people don't talk about planes and bombs! And people still wonder how one can be such a cynical bitch. If you got a mind of your own it's really not that difficult.

"Educate the person next to you"

It only seems like in recent years a lot of people I grew up with have passed away, so young, unknowingly a huge part of my life. It's long ago but so far what really made a big impression on me was the passing away of Frank Sinatra. He was one of these people who just was immortal. Frank Sinitra was supposed to be there forever. His voice and music lives on thankfully. What a voice! And only yesterday the news reached me that Tom Bosley had passed away. Better knows at the Dad in Happy Days. He too had a respectable age of 83 but still. Happy Days was and is one of my favourite TV series, he was such a fatherly type of person, he was (not really) The Fonz' dad! It's weird.

These past years people such as Michael Jackson, Corey Haim, Antonie Kamerling (Dutch actor who played in the nation's first ever soap serie), Solomon Burke, Piet Wijn (he drew a comic in Donals Duck which I had a subscription to as a kid), Miep Gies (she found the diary of Anne Frank), Ria Brieffies (she was a singer in the biggest Dutch girl group of the 80s), Les Paul, Patrick Swayze, Stephen Gately, Brittany Murphy, Jay Retard, Arjen Grolleman (he founded the only alternative radio station in the Netherlands, Kink FM), Malcolm McLaren, Gary Coleman, a couple of the Golden Girls, I think I better stop now.

Anyway, these days we don't hear it on the radio or from friends, we got twitter now. And so I sat a little dazed at work reading a blog someone tweeted about Ari Up. Ari Up had died. That kind of had me go wow. I'll be honest with you, I was not a big fan of her band the Slits, I like their punk stuff but not their reggae stuff but I liked them for being the band that they were. Last year on my birthday they were The Very Special Guests at the Cribs' show I visited in Doncaster (I probably would have passed this small tour by if it hadn't been for my birthday). I looked them up on the net and well, I wondered why. But then, it was quite impressive and special to have such an influential and strong all female group from the late 70s, early 80s to open for the Cribs. The Slits were really something. I knew it meant the world to the band, all four feminists themselves. And at least it wasn't as bland as the other two bands who played who's names I already forgot (was it Sky Larkin and some other band?).

The Slits took the stage and just by the way how, especially Ari Up came on as a strong woman, I kind of wondered if this crowd would appreciate this. The music was reggae mixed with dance hall but also punk (the latter I really enjoyed) and they put on a great show. But not everyone agreed because they were horribly treated by a group of male chauvenists pigs, a side effect of a band growing bigger and being in an unusual large venue, it's easier for them to get in. Beers were thrown on stage, they were boo-ed and in all it was a disgrace. But the women on stage stood brave and did their set, they verbally fought the idiots and were strong. That was admirable to see (at the side of the stage stood the Cribs' bassist fuming with anger and nearly ran on stage, it should have been a treat, and this was no way to receive a treat). In all, this show was unforgettable. And this is how I remember the Slits.

It's weird to see these people die who in one way or another were part of you growing up (and I'm still growing up), it gives you a feeling of mortallity, it's like damn! when they pass away. It also makes you feel like you're growing slowly older yourself. I'm not twenty anymore, no I'm not. But musicians dying who I only have seen under a year ago? That's a whole new chapter. R.I.P. Ari Up.

The title of this is brought to you by my sister who reminded me of what Ari Up told that crowd that night. Think about it.

Gras driving, forest friends and Corin Tucker

Three days into my working rhythm and I'm still not used to it. Work really needs getting used to, why can't people just take it slow and easy? Work is annoying. It always takes a while to get back into real life after a vacation but I what I really need to do is getting my act together when biking home. So far I managed to drive my bicycle into the gras every single day while I was telling myself what great music I got on my walkman. I either need to get over the fact the music is great or I should pay more attention to the road. Probably the last one.

Just before I went on vacation I noticed that the left top tile at the lady's toilets at work sort of looks like it has a Bob Ross painting on it. While looking at it I could see a forest with animals on that particular tile. Of course when you are tired you are able to see weird things so while thinking it was nice I thought I saw these things simply because I was tired. To my surprise and joy I noticed my forest friends hadn't left the tile. They are still there. The fox sitting in front of a tree which has a owl sitting in it. And there's also a bunny jumping at the right side of the tile. It's these small things that make life a little brighter or maybe I'm just a bit coockoo. I want these tiles in my own bathroom. I wish I had bought these rubber duck tile stickers now at one of Sweden's best stores, Lagerhaus.

Sometimes there are these album releases you just know must be great. Everyone tells you it's great and considering the artist and what this artist has done in the past it has a big, bright, neon THIS IS GOOD STUFF label on it (blinking of course). They ooze GOOD STUFF so much that you're actually scared to touch it, scared to be disappointed because you also read this album is not what you'd expect (but still good). Curiosity won at last and scared I put on this magical album, '1,000 years' by the Corin Tucker Band. In case you don't understand what the commotion is about, she's been in Sleater-Kinney. If that doesn't make you understand the commotion your musical interests differ from mine (but that's fine if you let me be). Still, being excited for an album just because of the name is a very big risk. Your expectations might be sky high, the music is more likely to disappoint you. There is a risk of not liking this artist so much anymore. I didn't want that to happen, even though I know Sleater-Kinney does not equal the Corin Tucker Band, I never expected that in the first place. Still, in a way you do want to like the album by this power woman.

So, I put that album on. After 10 seconds into that album I knew I was listening to something quite incredibly amazing. What a great rock album! I was thrown to many directions while listening (ditch included), she sings gracefully but powerful. The music is so 90s in the best possible way. Especially 'It's always summer' made me think of the band Kindred Spirit, and that band came up a lot of times (I love Kindred Spirit, they were pretty much overlooked and under-promoted) as were (the obvious aside) early REM and the Who. If Tucker singing The Who tickles your fancy you might want to ask the kind people of Quasi nicely if they have a copy of their NYE Who party DVD left, but this on a side note. I had no real expectations for this album, I threw them all aside, but it really amazed me. Now here's an album that shot right into my list of the best albums for 2010. Tucker might be a dedicated mother and doesn't scream out her frustrations, she's a damn good musician and songwriter. This goes right into my favourite alt rock albums shelf next to Pavement, Modest Mouse, the Minders and yes Sleater-Kinney. And so it should be.