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Freie Liebe! mars 29, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Sentimental journeys.
4 comments

Dear Diary,

Monday was a big day.

I got up at eight in the morning. Considering that I didn't have to work, you would say that I'm fucking crazy. Well, that might be true, but besides, we had big plans: We (me and three other drug-addicts) wanted to go to Strasbourg where the fabulous Youngblood Brass Band was playing a concert in the course of their Is that a riot?-all-across-Europe-tour.

We spent a nice day bumming around in Strasbourg. Before we went to the location the concert took place, we visited "ATAC", the anti-globalization supermarket, and bought some 100% French Baguette, Coulommiers cheese, bacon, vine and Prinzen cakes. Haw.

Strasbourg

It was a great pleasure for us to spread the breadcrumbs all over the interior of my car. Then it was time to get things started. A little nose-powdering at the toilet of the club and the party could begin.

(!Attention: If you are not interested in a serious review of this concert, please stop reading now and, if you like, try later at the end of the text!)

The evening began with French singer/songwriter/producer David Walters. His roots are in the West Indies, and as a consequence, his music is inspired and influenced by reggae; but also afrobeat, hiphop and some kind of Ben Harper-Style flows into his compositions. So far so good. On stage he had arranged a strange assortment of "instruments": a glass harmonica with a self made resonator, a don't-no-what metal cylinder, a game-boy-like…thing (which made sounds, surprisingly), a kazoo, and such boring things like a guitar, his voice, a shaking banana…oh yeah, and about 8 delayers.

His performance was memorable. I've never seen anybody with such an uncroyable amount of rhythm corpuscles in his blood. He built up his songs by "recording" some beats of music, then delaying it, and recording the next track, delaying it and mixing it with the first one and so on. Unbelievable what came out. Very complex and amazingly exact music, and the sickest of all: it grooved hard. The beat never ran out of round. How can one do this? He kind of records his songs every time he does a gig, without the slightest error. It was exceptionnel. That's the modern kind of one-man-band. The fact that his singing wasn't really my case didn't bother the great impression. At the end of the show, he offered some freestyles to the more or less enthusiastic crowd. All in all, David Walters did a great job and was worth getting to hear.

David Walters 2


Then it was time for the warriors of Youngblood Brass Band to come out and play. YBBB is not a common Brass Band, even if the line-up is (almost) that of a Brass Band in common sense: two trumpets, two trombones, one saxophone, one sousaphone, three percussionists, one of whom is also the rapper of the band. They do hiphop/afrobeat/latin/"riotjazz"/"posthype"/New orleans – Jazz, which may sound awkward right now, but in fact really makes the bear dancing till his feet bleed. No one who has ever been at a concert of YBBB will deny that.

Daughter of the Revolution Joe Goltz

YBBB changed his line-up for the last record (Is that a riot?), which was more experimental than the last ones, so I was curios if the new line-up would still be this loud and intoxicating as they used to be. Well, they are. They rocked the place. It was the fourth Youngblood concert I've been to, and I've never jumped around this much. Ok, you have to be jumping if you are standing in the second row. My ears were bleeding. So what. I still feel like a hearing aid would be great. But it was worth it.

The first three songs were killing it, including their "anthem" Brooklyn (it was in the top ten in Belgium and the Netherlands), which they changed slightly. By that time, I didn't feel my legs any more. It really was a riot, but a friendly one. Some more calm songs followed, and the saxophonist, who seems to be a little introverted in real life, performed a couple of crazy soli.

During the first third of the concert, the crowd was a little stiff (except for the first rows), and the following tribute to New Orleans didn't change that neither. In fact, they are solid at playing traditional New Orleans Jazz, but there are things they can do better.

It's clear that the people at the club didn't know the new album, so they kind of didn't know what to do when YBBB played songs out of it. But later, they played a couple of songs from the old record (Avalanche & Camouflage: YEAH!), and now the people knew what to do: they went crazy, all screaming and jumping around…it was sick. In the end, Youngblood could play what they wanted, the people were enthusiastic about it. I was sweating blood.

Youngblood 1
Now that the rush of blood has gone, I can say that YBBB is now performing better than in Darmstadt (one and a half years ago). Ok, when the former sousaphonist was still playing, the band seemed to play more exactly, they sounded as one big sound box. Now, it's a little confused from time to time (to be precise: the New-orleans-tracks and some new stuff), and some of the songs don't groove this hard any more. However, they still know how to make a crowd go scream and dance the souls out of them. The line-up as a whole is better than in old days: the saxophonist knows what he does, the trombonists are insane animals as usual and the sousaphonist is getting better and better. Additionally, D.H.Skogen really polished up his rapping skills. But despite their musical development, they didn't loose their energy playing live.

For me, they are at least one of the best (live-)bands existing nowadays, no doubt.

The concert was a ball and worth every euro paid.

Baguette!

herra? héri!

P.S: For more frankanatic pictures from the show go to herra's pic corner!

Auglýsingar

In the net of the spider mars 26, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Dublin 06.
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Heyho pals,

Time for part three of Fear and Loathing in Dublin.

Tuesday, March 21st

I forgot what happened in the morning; when I regained consciousness, I noticed we were wearing gumboots, yellow raincoats, miner helmets and Wanderers F.C Rugby Club-Scarfs. Whatever. We were hungry, so we ate. That happened at Café en Seine, an unbelievable place. Dimmed lights, enormous plants, huge mirrors, jazz and French Chansons – it was the true 1920-businessman-experience.

Café en Seine

En plus, you could eat traditional Irish food. It was probably the most bizarre experience we made in D to the n. Ok, it sounds a little bit boring, so I will add some spice:

Next to our table, an old, poorly shaved man with an old-fashioned hat and a worn out suit was sitting around, in front of him a gorgonzola sandwich and a glass of red wine. He was wearing sunglasses; additionally, he made use of a spyglass constantly. He covered the whole room with his spyglass-views. From time to time, he made some notes. I started to feel a little uncomfortable when he stared at us for about 10 minutes. He asked for the waitress and told her that somebody was smoking inside the cafe. Then he fetched a revolver out of his suit, whispered "April is the cruellest month.", put the gun into his mouth and fired.

James Joyce

When we had finished eating, we decided that it was time for a good pint of Guinness, so we headed for the Guinness Storehouse. It was awesome. They tried to make you drink all the time ("Oh, hello, fancy a sample of Guinness?"). Unfortunately, we hadn't much time. In the Gravity Bar, the upmost floor of the brewery, we enjoyed our free pint of Guinness and a great view over Dublin.

Gravity Bar Gravity Bar viewsick

By then, it was already time to go to the airport. In the meantime, here are some more great pics from Ireland's pulsing capital:

the hostelsight-seeing 2sight-seeing

All could have been so mellow. But waiting for the airplane, we met some nice Americans in the twenties. They were so cool. One of them was wearing a shirt showing a tricycle: "My other ride is your mom". Great entertainment. If I decided to go to another country, I would surely choose this very t-shirt to gain new friends. His mate, whose idiocy and limited horizon sprang out of his face, was wearing a beret, which made him look even dumber. As if they didn't bother me enough with their look, they started to talk. It was like…like ya know what I mean, like: you wanna like…do something, pal? – man, fuck it, our, like, our plane is like flying soon. – Man, shut the fuck up! – You kidding me?

Totally awesome! I had so much fun, these guys had such a great personality! Thank you X for pimping my ride! Now get the hell outta here!

Enough of these unholy prejudices and this disgusting social criticism. I challenged them to a duel and managed it my way – with swords not words. Hu-ha.

So. I'd like to write something concluding, but I don't no what. Dublin was fucking amazing.

Sun is shining.

CYA

What the hill?! mars 25, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Dublin 06.
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Good evening, my appreciated friends, and good evening also to you, my lovliest enemy, DR. MORIARTY! Always a pleasure.

My pipe is enlightened and the cognac has just the right temperature, so it's the best possible time to sit down in my brazenly comfortable leather armchair right next to the fireplace where a cozy little fire glimmers and tell you some devilarious and untold stories about HELL… – well, no, that's next week…about DUBLIN.

Monday, March 20th

You can't imagine the unclouded delight I felt when I woke up at around half eight (that's the real Irish slang, check it out: half eight, homie. Means: 8:30). In my heart, the birds sang and I felt that spring stepped closer and closer. It was inspiring.
Without having to think, my thoughts were a wild river, blasting its way through the unviolated Irish landscapes. I had to write a little poem instantly to express my emotions:

My brain is dead,
my stomach's mad,
I feel bad;
really,
really
bad –

I was inspired, indeed.
(It was raining.)

Fresh like a deer I jumped into my clothes and had breakfast. It ruled.
mmmhh....fine!
We were both full of pleasant anticipation to do some challenging hiking in Bray, that's about 30 km south of Dublin. In fact, I had enough when we had walked to the station from which the train went to Bray. First appetite for a pint of Guinness flourished.

I believe we were not the first people who asked the friendly guys at the station where the ominous "cliff walk" started. They changed glances and rolled their eyes, "Oh man, these stupid idiots will never learn it.", then showed us the way.
Bray
We spent some time at the rough sea (I found a golf ball – exciting), then started the walk. Since we are two fisted warriors, we weren't satisfied with simply doing the walk, no, we decided to climb Bray Head, a chainsaw of a mountain, the emblem of Ireland: approximately 9000 m over sea level, acid springs and rivers all over the sides, caves with bloodthirsty bears in it and deadly rifts hidden for human eyes. And all that bare-footed! (We had eaten our shoes for second breakfast.)

Dangerous
The path was a thrill: dead bodies, smashed human bones, oxygen bottles, a lot of beer cans and bottles, cigarettes and other essential equipment. A cold, fresh Guinness at Bray Station would have been less challenging. Damnit!

But, you see, the moments of torture climbing this hell of a hill were highly awarded, i can tell thee. An amazing panorama extended to horizon.

Panorama 2 Panorama 1
The ocean was really sea-like, and the landscape was truely Irish. There were some great cliffs to stand on and feel like the king of the world. This lucky circumstance allowed us to execute the ingenious plan of doing a dramatic video shoot upon the mountain. The result was eye-burning. Herra héri was on the set, too. Take a licensed look at pics from the shoot:
Video shoot 1Video Shoot 2
When we felt that we had spent enough time screaming at the peak of this mountain, we headed back to the cliff path. Friendly tortoises and the well-known Guinness toucan accompanied us. We had a great conversation.

The rest of the walk was really soul-uplifting. It seemed like the landscape had just been jumping out of a tourist brochure about the impressive nature of Ireland. The hangover had been forgotten for a while.
Cliff walk
Hangover came back shortly when we reached Greystones, a rather ugly all-American village. We were badly in need for the one-hour-ride back to Dublin. Life continued not until we where back in O'Neill's, the pub of our confidence, where we had a pint of Bulmer's Cider and, oh yeah, believe it or not, something to eat (Irish stew). What followed was a really laid-back evening including (in order of appearance) another pint of Bulmer's, football, a pint of Kilkenny, football (second half), some dumbass Americans, a pint of Guinness, two Irish guitarists (m/w), another pint of Bulmer's, a completing pint of Guinness and sleep.
Guinness TimeChilling
Next time: Looking out for shoes, Guinness-loving lobsters and more American fun.

Good night and may the herra be with you.

Sweet as a nut mars 23, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Dublin 06.
1 comment so far

Faílte compañeros!

The time has come to do a little report about the short visit to Dublin of mine and my brother (oh yes, herra héri was with us, too). Since these 3 days were so full of experiences, I'm going to split them up into 3 posts (uäih!). Exciting, what? It's also kind of a test for the huge 6-week-Iceland-journey-coverage.

I'm not gonna bother you with interesting stuff but merely with ineffectual details. That's what you want, isn't it ??!! Well, there you go.

Sunday, March 19th

The flight from Stuttgart was great. Great entertainment. A young super-christian couple prayed in the course of take-off. Then, safely flying around (with God's help), they took a short inspiration read out of their premium-edition bible (with leather case), presumably written by Jesus himself. Nice people, I liked them at once. I believe they are young, ambitious Americans who have just finished their 3-year bible-school. Now they are on their Europa-missionary tour, with unbroken enthusiasm. Great.

But there were other highlights on the flight. The monitors were not showing solely boring maps and facts, no, they loosened the atmosphere with some undemonstrative ads: "HÖHNER 6:0 – DAS NEUE ALBUM! HIER IM FLUGZEUG ZU KAUFEN!" It was spiced up with a great picture of this amazing band. As you can imagine, I didn't hesitate to buy 6 records. It was well worth the investment.

In the bus from airport to O'Connell Street, there were some extremely kind Germans. One of them had lived in Dublin for half a year and he left no doubt that he was the king of Dublin. He simply knew everything about Dublin and Ireland. Small example: "Wisst ihr, auf dieser Autobahn hat es eigentlich immer Stau. Deshalb nennen wir Iren sie auch den größten Parkplatz der Welt. Das is doch mal n Ding, wa? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! – Übrigens, falls ihr es noch nicht mitbekommen habt, ich weiß alles über Dublin." I made the purpose to beat the seven shades of shit out of him, but he wasn't in the mood for it. it's a shame, we could have had so much fun.

Know what: foosball tables in Ireland don't use the generally accepted 2-5-3 system, but, attention please, a 3-5-2 system…fuck me I'm Irish.

Our hostel was nice, with a great view over town:
panorama view
I'm going to leave out the boring sight-seeing-hours between hostel check-in and serious drinking, aight?
EATpanorama view 2

So: Right after checking in in the hostel, we met Betti, who is Au-Pair 30 km South of Dublin since 2 weeks. After a short salutation ceremony we started drinking in the next best Pub, O'Neill's. It's quite a huge Pub, but very comfortable. It was 5 pm when we ordered our first pint (0,568l) of Guinness (€4,10). Another pint later we changed the place of drinking, feeling the need to eat something (I didn't eat the whole day, besides one pretzel and a Whopper Cheese).

Guinness
We failed, so we had to continue drinking. At 9, I was plastered.

plastered view
At around 1 am, after 7 pints of Guinness and one Power's Whiskey, I felt the desire to puke. But nah, I'm too cool for stuff like that. Betti and some of her Au-Pair-friends including a Maltese speech therapist (?) had gone by then, and we hooked up with an Irishman, who dragged us to Viperroom. It's the place to be. We stayed 5 mintues and went home, drunk as hill. What followed was not sleeping but coma.

The first evening was a ball, so stay tuned for new extreme sport "hangover-hill-climbing" and more fine drinking experiences.


Slaínte!

Dublin 103.jpg

Quoi? mars 17, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Herra the Heri.
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In the name of the sacred jellyfish! Somebody stole my favourite album title!

The fact that these….these….humans use it solely for a single song doesn't ease the pain.

-> the devil's workday , "performed" by Modest Mouse. I detest it, really.

But thanks to Lucifer I own such an unchained fantasy: I already managed to acquire a new favourite title: A day in the life of satan. It's refreshingly new, ain't it?

Slainte!

Somebody wanna play Schlumpfball? mars 16, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Herra the Heri.
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goðan daginn,

A few seconds ago, I realized that I'm enabled to write. So hear my words, lans:

Today was a good day. I spent one happy hour in a kindergarten for disabled children. Not because I had to or something, no, I just was in the mood to do this kind of stuff. To meet and be nice to some sweet little children. Maybe I have smuggled some chocolate in the little country of happiness…did I? hm…I'm not quite shure about it any more. But…no, no I didn't.

so: at first, I played some nice games with them. Of course I told them if they did something wrong (little punishments did work SO good!Try it!). Their constant attempts to cheat did not yield fruit, of course. I won every single game.HA. When they started to cry, I cheered them up with some awesome card tricks. They still cried. So I told them a little story about a bloodthirsty vampire-beaver whose preferred activity is to eat kid's hearts and legs. It's a great story, for real. But, you won't believe it, they STILL didn't look happy. I told them that I'd cut their ears off and call for Vlad Beaversson to manage this whole thing if they wouldn't stop. That worked. I think they like me.

But, ¡qué lástima!, by then it was time to go for me. Later, I will get some beer (I promised them to bring some next time) and look for a beaver mask and blood cartridges. It's great fun. How was your day?

shamrock A propos fun: Tomorrow's the big St. Patrick's Day, Ireland's major holiday. It's dedicated to Saint Patrick, by the way, the first missionary of ireland. But the main aspect of the holiday consists of "consuming large quantities of Irish beer (sometimes dyed green), such as Murphys, Smithwicks, Harp or Guinness or other Irish liquors such as Irish whiskey, Irish Coffee or Baileys Irish Cream."

I think that's reason enough to celebrate this great Irish holiday directly in Dublin. It's gonna be…religious. Watch out for some religios awaking stories I will have to tell next week for sure. Let out the Irish in you!
——————————————————————————————

National Team Aspirants, Pay Attention!

An informant who would like to stay unrecognized hit me with this stuff: http://www.sueddeutsche.de/sport/weltfussball/bildstrecke/889/71818/

Looks like there are still chances for you, Silvio Meißner!

—————————————————————————————–

Now I feel exhausted somehow. I must spend all my power on letting my hair grow. My unachieved goal (to look like Vigo, the scourge of the Carpathians) has finally come into reach. Cheers! Good night.

Note for myself: Must think about hitch-hiking round Iceland with a fridge.

Just another bob-rossish monday. mars 13, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Herra the Heri.
4 comments

Hello herras and héris! Without the slightest effort, I gave a completely new look to the whole site. kind of. Well, that means, I added a new page which will supply the screaming crowd out there with the hottest pics taken at a whole bunch of cool places!
Herra's pics is the real shit!
In the course of the Herra Héri World Domiation Tour, My.S.Elf and myself will spend a weekend next week – look out for some guinessish St.Patrick's Day drinking snapshots outta Dublin, moruks. Until then, you have the one-time chance to have an eye or two at some really SWELL pictures…It's fucking amazing!

In this spirit,
Word!

(sorry about this. I don't know what I'm doing. What on earth is eating me?!)

Unique preview: Zorc’s and Dr.Squirrel’s „The nut conspiracy“ mars 12, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Herra the Heri, Mr. J. Squirrel Phd., Zorc Wotan.
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Bitch! What a day!

Sir Zorc Wotan and Dr. Squirrel just informed me: On the ooccasion of my birthday, they accord me a top-secret picture of their first movie „The nut conspiracy“, attacking cinemas out off cold icelands mysterious holes in October 2006. Of course, they don’t act, actually. They preferred to stay unrecognised by the outer world. In fact, Sir Zorc Wotans visage would make everyone go blind. So they selected two genius actors, who could represent them the best (at least they thought so).

Well, take a brave look at it…

DSC00001.JPG

I am not quite convinced that they were the best choice. Sir Zorc Wotan looks like he coulnd’t make people go blind but is blind himself. And Dr.Squirrel….well, he looks like a squirrel,anyway.

First doubts about the genre of the film grow…

Friendly takeover succeeded mars 12, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Herra the Heri.
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Herra Héri, y’all. I am very proud to spread the notion of herra héri into the infinite widths of world wide web. I’m of good cheer that my old sports Herra, Zorc and Squirrel will stand behind me in word and deed. Precautios forecasts say that herra héri will rule the world in about 3 months. And YOU can be a part of it, NOW!

Stay herra, folks!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY mars 11, 2006

Posted by herraheri in Herra the Heri.
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Today is the big day! Dr. Squirrel, Zorc Wotan and My S. Elf are all together to congratulate Mad Martin to his birthday: Happy Birthday.

By doing so, they give this site in the hands of Mad Martin. Take care of it and be a good site-keeper – Zorc Wotan will have an eye on you…
M.M.having a drink
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAD MARTIN – STAY AS YOU ARE – WE LOVE YOU!!!