It's the last day of the year, very early morning, and yesterday I sat by my grandmother's bed, along with my family, and watched her die. It was pretty much her deepest wish to finally get rid of life - after all, the prize you win if you make it to old age is watching your bodily functions weaken one by one and I couldn't blame her for wanting it over and done with. And yet it is hard, sitting there, waiting for hours, anxiously, watching every sign, however tiny, and you know what you're waiting for is not happily ever after but the end. Of course it also reminded me of sitting by my dad's bed a few years ago, when he died, and I feel like more and more childhood memories are leaving me for the other side of reality.
Saddam Hussein was executed the very same day my grandmother died and if I believed firmly in Heaven and Hell that would bring me some kind of relief - after all it should be very easy for her to get a ticket to Heaven standing in line with Mr. Hussein.
On a happy note I got together with a couple of friends earlier this year to establish a new goth club in Odense, the city where I live. And fortunately Klub Golem has been successful so far - a nice hideout for the underground, the weird and wanton, the fabulous freaks, the musically alternative and, of course, those who show up to show off their boots and mohawks. A happy new year to you all, the living and the dead alike.
In a time where information is indeed free the value of music is decreasing. Or so it would seem. Kids around the globe unite to defend their God-given right to steal music; not from the stores, Heaven forbid, but hiding behind computer screens and fast internet connections. Not even shoplifting is what it used to be and no wonder football players are the new rock stars. But before you consider music dead and gone, down the drain, over and out, stop and read this tale.
Once upon a time, years ago, there was this man and there was this woman, and they both went to a concert. They liked the sound and let's skip the details but during the very last song they kissed. Months went by, about nine, and they had their first kid, and this kid, my friend, could have been you.
But consider this, if but for a moment; what if the concert had been bad, what if the musicians had hit all the wrong keys and strings, the singer performing terribly all evening, everything completely off beat? Would the man and the woman - your potential parents - have stayed? Have met? Would you have been even alive if not for music? And so, my friend, whenever you're feeling sad and low and nothing in this life seems right, blame me - because maybe I did that crucial concert. Happy birthday.
Did this concert at Nakkefestival a week ago; an outdoor underground festival recently rated as one of the ten most important festivals in Denmark. I'd been told it was all very much a hippie thing so when I was asked to show up for a musicians workshop the day before my performance to do yoga and paint music, I pretty much expected to be welcomed by a bunch of sickeningly smiling flowers telling me to please stop playing those inhuman machines of mine and to quit waging war in Vietnam.
The festival, though, as well as the workshop, was very well organised and great fun too. People seemed relaxed and organisers as well as the guests had a good time. I was a little worried about how my music would be received - I would, after all, be playing to people who mostly had their own natural hair colour this time round. It all went very well, though, in fact, my concert had the largest crowd of the entire festival with people jumping and clapping their hands from the very first song to the last one. Needless to say I was very happy to get this kind of reception, people asking me for autographs all over their body or where to catch me in concert next.
I spent the rest of the festival relaxing, getting attacked by insects and checking out the other acts performing, catching quite a few concerts which was nice. And if I get an invite to go and do a concert next year around I'll most probably say yes.
The good news is that we finally got Klub Golem up and running; and it's desperately needed - it's not like this city has much alternative culture. Well, let's not fool anyone; it's not like this city has much culture. Full stop. Anyway, we've been working on etsablishing this club some months so it was great to see a lot of people show up for our opening night and my concert there. Hopefully this will go on also in the future.
The bad news, of course, is the death of Syd Barrett, co-founder of and original lead singer in Pink Floyd. Although he's been more or less emotionally dead for years it is still sad when your childhood heroes pass away. You grow a little older each time, a door in the back of your mind gets locked and somehow the person who swallowed the key is you. I just hope there are gnomes in the afterlife.
Copyright: Ras Bolding 2006