I always fancied to play in Hamburg, especially at the Kaiserkeller, being THE Beatles spot still running in the city and me being the super-duper-freaky beatle fan I am. So when the call came that they wanted us there it was like "Wow! Fuck yeah!". And so, we packed our belongings, got into a brand new bus (fuck you, Robben&Wintjes, we found someone better and cheaper and with a better service), forgot all the CDs at home and drove to Hamburg amidst seemingly neverending snowed fields to the city at the Elbe river and the also seemingly neverending docks. I love cities with harbour, probably because I come from one too. But there is something relaxing at the view of water, ships and cranes. Someone once said that for a continental person, the water is the end of the world, for an islander, it's just the beginning. Must be true.
So there we were, on historic ground, where Paul sweated and John swore. Where George played and Pete... well, who gives a damm about Pete Best anyway? The Kaiserkeller is located downstairs from the bigger Grosse Freiheit 36 concert hall, and it's a cozy club with flair, seriously comfy sofas backstage, a better stage than most clubs and cold beers. Groovy. I had been here watching Weezer last year and can only say it's an amazing place, period. It even came with its very own true sailor type, too real to be true, but it was. Well, only one thing was absolutely demented: the fucking ice on the stairs where you load the gear in! Treading on ice, losing your balance and falling on your butt several steps like Homer Simpson with two guitars in the hand is not especially nice, me back and me arse still hurt... d'oh!
After the soundcheck we went outside to take a stroll down Hamburg's red light district. Walking through the Reeperbahn was cool. In fact, it was more than just cool, it was cold. Fucking freezing to be more accurate. But the whole St. Pauli area has something interestingly wicked about it that makes it unique. In front of the club, in the middle of the whore clubs and strip bars, a church ringing the bells in the middle of the night. Perhaps trying to refrain some souls from sinning? Who knows, but it was a freaky view (and sound) anyway. Unfortunately it was way to cold to do a proper research of the Reeperbahn's, er, charms, so we walked back to the club ready to rock. Or roll.
A local band and few beers and a Jägermeister later, it was our time to take the stage. Not such a bad attendance for a monday night, by the way. Our manager said we keep turning into a quite heavy band onstage, and I can only corroborate the view. Lately, we seem to get rid of a lot of aggression and energy while we play, and the best is, we have FUN. Well, at least Timo (headbanging!) and I did, Tobi was rather fighting not to lose more sticks. Haha! He kept throwing them away as if his hands were washed with butter or any similar lubricant (did we miss something Tobey?). At one point he looked more like John Bonham smashing drums with his bare hands with broken and fallen sticks all around, what a view! After the gig we were too tired to do anything else than to grab a beer, pack our stuff, get in the bus and safely drive home before it got too late for those of us who had to stand up early the next day.
On the way back, I simply decided to shut off the brain and let go. I put on my headphones and listened to Phil Spector all the way back to Berlin, a double (or triple?) album called Back To Mono. If you want to know if there was something interesting, just ask the others, I was deep inside "River Deep, Mountain High", "Be My Baby" and all those freaking classic classics. Simply amazing songs...
Love and bruises,
El Niño
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