 |
| MOTEL MOZAIQUE FESTIVAL ROTTERDAM, HOLLAND 28.03.03 Hello, dear readers. I have just returned from a nightlong sprawl through the gutter of artistic Holland. Yesterday was the night for the Motel Mozaïque Festival, and Renée, Else, Nadya and me were easily the youngest and coolest people there. Most of the crowd consisted of arty-trendy girls with side-partings in their hair, trendy-arty boys in flared trousers, and generally old people. In effect, it was really most cosy. Everyone was equally cool and friendly and weird. Sure, there were also the flocks of photographers and cameramen- enough to drive anyone crazy- and the inevitable tall men blocking your view, but most of the time it was simply pleasant. A short summary of the gigs I saw: STEVEN MALKMUS AND THE JICKS Steven Malkmus was the height of cuddliness in his red woollen cardie and pink shirt, and looked a little like Jarvis Cocker. Else and Nadya dubbed him "geeky", but I maintained that nerdy is the new cool. The music was nice, and the performance good too; the drummer was a little overenthusiastic, but well, enthusiasm is the new nonchalance, so that was good. Steven Malkmus was a little intense on some guitar parts, where he looked as though he was on the verge of coming all over his guitar. He also had the annoying habit of switching guitars after every song. Which was a nice gimmick, I guess. There were some unintelligible but friendly adlibs between songs, and well, it was just a very nice gig. Just very nice. THE THRILLS I must have been psychic when I decided I was going to wear my "Yes. I am Morrissey" top.Of course, as usual I had been way too stupid to realise that these guys were the same Thrills that were supporting Morrissey on his Royal Albert Hall gig. I am currently still in awe over the amazing coolness that the fact that I wore a "Yes I am Morrissey" top to a Thrills gig purveys. Good Lord, I never realised just HOW cool I am. Anyway, half the crowd was composed of photographers, the other half of middle-aged, bald Serious Rock Critics, who were all very ugly and motionless, and I felt a deep sympathy for the band because they had to face this sorry lot. So I tried to get Renée to dance, which she didn't, probably feeling shy at shaking her booty under the stares of five drooling Irishmen. Being beyond any kind of shame, I danced anyway, the ONLY person in the crowd to do so (ok, ok, apart from the bald, probably stoned, bald guy next to me). It was quite pitiful. I still cannot decide whether the never ceasing interest of three-fifth of The Thrills in my humble self was based on my top (which was, admittedly, a stroke of awe-inspiring genius), or on the fact that I was wearing said, moderately revealing, top while jumping up and down and shaking my hips. After a few songs, it became a little scary, to have three pairs of eyes continually fixed on me. I just decided to stare at their shoes instead of at their faces, but to no avail. They did seem to feel the need to impress anyway, which was good, because they moved around and threw guitars in the air a lot, and the music was lovely messy and noisy and LOUD. All in all, it was a good gig, though a little paranoia instigating. THE FAINT The highlight of the evening, planned wisely at the very end. After a much too long wait spent leaning against the stage, the gig took off with a bang- literally. Immediately after they had taken to the stage and announced: "We are The Faint and we are from Omaha.", something in their equipment exploded. Of course, all the young drunken Dutch men began to hoot excitedly at that. Panic took over, and the next ten minutes were spent by band members shining into intriguing-looking boxes with tiny flashlights and running up and down the stage. After a while, they came on again, announced, rather unnecessarily; "We are The Faint and we are from Omaha.", and off they went. The first thing that struck me about them was their sheer dynamism. Everything seemed continually stuck in fast forward; the music- intense, overwhelmingly rhythmic and loud, the show - image overloads projected on a big screen behind them, and the band - always dancing, shouting, shaking, walking, running. The theme of the evening seemed to be War; not only did they play every song they'd ever done on the subject, the projections had largely to do with it too- shots of Bush, and newsreels from World War II (typically American not to think about using that as a background effect in a country so scarred by that War as Holland is). It seemed to fit in marvellously with the music, however; everything was violent and dark, so I guess it is excusable. They deserve every bit of praise for the rest of the show, anyway. Mainly because (*gasp* *shudder*) they got the crowd to DANCE! Dutchmen! Dance! Well, the crowd of beautiful freaks we were standing between was, anyway. They were all magnificently peculiar- for instance the goblin-like man with the black beard and his miniature female friend, the large black woman with the manic hand gestures, and The Amazing Dancing Photographer, the only specimen of his kind. Since the right side of the stage was completely occupied by photographers, the band members came rushing towards our side of the stage all the time to dance with us, which was very cool. A few nice moments; - Singer dude diving down upon us and making us sing - Keyboard man's snake hips - Bassplayer man's snake hips - Guitarist man's lying down exhaustedly - The general enthusiasm of everyone Their performance was stunning- I have never seen a band where ALL the band members moved SO much. It proved impossible to take pictures of anyone, because they never stood still. Add to this the frantic energy of the weirdo's around us, and the amazing, livid music, and there you have a near perfect gig. Maybe, when you weren't dancing, it was not as interesting as it was for me, but well, that would be your own fault for not dancing. As it was, it was rather like being possessed, a marvellous feeling. It was wonderful to be able to disappear completely into the music for once. As a bonus they played Worked Up So Sexual, which resulted in a mad orgy of feverish body movement, and then they left. And so did we. Hanna Nierstrasz. |