Dirty Weather Project's tour 2015: Frank Vollmann and Lucas Lanthier live in Milan

As you may have noticed, live music inspires my writing a lot. On 10^th October I drove with my husband to Milan to attend the live performance of Dirty Weather Project: the duo formed by Frank Vollmann and Lucas Lanthier.

Both the artists have their own careers: Frank Vollmann is the frontman of the band Frank theBaptist and has a solo project called Telegram Frank and Lucas Lanthier is the leader of Cinema Strange and Deadfly Ensemble. Being their sound near Post Punk and Dark Rock (but not limited to), they happen to play at the kind of festivals I like to attend. That is why I got to know their music in occasion of different editions of Wave Gotik Treffen (and thank to a dear friend of mine, who always suggests me great bands!).

Dirty Weather Project live in Milan

From time to time Frank and Lucas tour together as Dirty Weather (last time was 2011) and bring on the stage a selection of their respective songs reinterpreted. The cities chosen for 2015 Italian part of the tour are Genoa, Milan and Modena. We decided to opt for Milan, as it was the easiest for us to reach.

The location, Ligera, is a wine bar on two floors: on the first there are tables for customers who wish to drink something in a typical atmosphere of the 70s, whereas in the basement there is the actual concert area. What I found a bit disappointing was the confusion about the time the event should have started. We arrived quite early. Too much early. However, never mind, good things are worth waiting!

Once we entered the concert room, we immediately had a look at the merchandise desk, where cds and gadgets of both artists where exposed. Lucas friendly welcomed us describing the various articles on the table. Few minutes later we saw also Frank and it was a pleasure to greet him.

Lucas Lanthier

Frank Vollman

The evening was opened by Los Cabrones Profanos, a band from Milan playing some “spicy” country blues. Immediately after, the Dirty Weather jumped on the stage. Frank Vollmann played songs by “Telegram Frank”, whereas Lucas Lanthier played songs by Cinema Strange, Deadfly Ensemble and from his new solo album.

"And now my game will be holding this glass with my foot during the song"

They were musicians and storytellers at the same time, two men with their voices and their guitars, no further instrument, as nothing more was needed. Each of them with his own style, they proved their virtuosity: Frank with his warm sound, Lucas with his perfect eclecticism. My attention was totally caught. Though I did not know all the tracks they played, I enjoyed every note.

It was not the kind of music you can hear on the radio, at least not in Italy. I appreciate a lot when bands innovate and “save” us from the flat monopoly of mainstream. Moreover, in this case I am not only talking about alternative artists, but also of a high level performance.

Dirty Weather Project

Unfortunately we had to leave before the end of the concert, so we missed the final part. I hope they will come back for a future tour. Check them out if you have the chance!

Take care,

Mary

"Ti ho fatto una cassetta" / "A music cassette for you my friend"

(English text  follows)

Ciao!

Oggi vorrei parlarvi di un argomento in cui penso vi riconoscerete, a chi non è mai capitato di sentirsi dire da un amico “Ti ho fatto una cassetta”?

Erano gli anni ’90-’00, il passaggio al digitale era in atto, ma non era ancora arrivato a tutti, e scambiarsi la musica su nastro portava l’amicizia ad un livello superiore.

Mi riferisco in particolare alle compilation che creavamo ad hoc. Era un modo per comunicare qualcosa al di là delle parole. Spesso facevamo una cassetta ad un amico/a per renderlo più partecipe del nostro stato d’animo, il messaggio intrinseco era: “sto vivendo questo e passo le giornate ascoltando queste canzoni, voglio condividerlo con te, perché tu possa capire come mi sento”. Oppure c’era l’empatia vista dal lato opposto: era l’amico a percepire in noi un particolare stato, che poteva essere gioia, tristezza o preoccupazione ecc …, per cui era lui a farci una cassettina con i brani che riteneva potessero interpretare o consolare i nostri pensieri: era una rassicurazione del fatto che aveva capito cosa ci stesse accadendo e che, per qualsiasi cosa, lui/lei ci sarebbe stato.

I casi, pero, non si esauriscono qui e vorrei citarne ancora due. Molte volte ci si scambiava una cassettina con una track list di canzoni per ricordare un periodo o un’esperienza trascorsi insieme ed indelebili, quasi la colonna sonora di un pezzo di vita (quanti pianti e/o quante cantate ci siamo fatti ascoltando queste compilation???). Infine una delle situazioni più gioiose: quando qualcuno che stavamo iniziando a conoscere meglio ci faceva una cassetta con i suoi gruppi/brani preferiti, con cui noi fino a quel momento non avevamo familiarità. Era un invito a tenersi pronti: al prossimo concerto saremmo andati insieme. E ditemi che questo non è un salto di livello dalla conoscenza all’amicizia?!

Non parliamo poi del processo creativo di tale cassettina! Produttori, case discografiche e studi di registrazione facevano un baffo alla nostra inventiva. La fonte non era quasi mai unica: prendo quel pezzo dal tal cd, l’altro ce l’ho su un vecchio nastro, questa canzone la registro da un programma radiofonico (e provate a stare ore ad ascoltare la radio pronti a fare lo scatto felino sul tasto “Rec”!). L’impresa più rocambolesca che ricordo di aver compiuto personalmente risale ai tempi in cui non avevo ancora un masterizzatore, ma avevo dei brani sul pc. Ho piazzato il mio stereo a cassette portatile di fronte alle casse del computer, ho fatto partire la canzone in digitale e l’ho registrata su nastro con il microfono. Dolby surround, home theatre… macché! Ovviamente non si sentiva quasi nulla, ma l’amica destinataria del mio regalo l’ha apprezzato.

Non finisce qui.

Il “packaging” era anche fondamentale. Ci armavamo di penne e pennarelli colorati per scrivere titoli e fare eventuali decori, la dedica nella parte interna era immancabile. I nomi di tali compilation erano estremamente fantasiosi perché, ovviamente, di nostra ideazione e a tema.

Io ho scaffali pieni di queste cassette, non ne ho buttata nessuna. Ogni tanto le riascolto dal mio ormai mediocre mangianastri e mi fanno rivivere tantissimi ricordi.

Colgo l’occasione per ringraziare, ancora una volta, chiunque mi abbia fatto una cassetta, spesso aprendomi nuovi mondi!

A presto!

Mary

****************************************************************************

Hi everybody!

Today I’d like to deal with something which was quite popular when I was younger, let’s say in the years 90s and 2000s and I would like to know if it was so typical also outside of Italy and if it happened in the same way. I’m talking about the home made compilations we used to exchange with friends, recorded on music cassettes.

Those were the years in which digital support was diffusing more and more, but it still didn’t reach everybody, and exchanging music on tape was the step which brought friendship to a higher level.

I refer to those compilations we created ad hoc. It was a way to communicate beyond what words could do. Very often we made a cassette for a friend so that he/she could get more involved in our current mood, the underlying message was: “I’m living this and I spend my days listening to these songs, I’d like to share them with you, thus you can understand how I feel”. Or there could be empathy coming from the opposite direction too: it was our friend who perceived a particular state of mind in us, which could be joy, sadness, worry and so on…, so it was he/she who made a cassette for us with all songs which could interpret or comfort our thoughts: it felt reassuring to know that he/she had understood what was happening to us and that this person would have been there in case of need.

There were further situations and I would like to tell about other two. Many times we gave a friend a cassette with a track list which was meant to remind a period or an experience we spent together and that became unforgettable, a sort of sound track of a piece of life (how many times we did cry or sing loud listening to these compilations???). Last, but not the least, one of the most cheerful cases: when someone we were starting to get to know better recorded for us a cassette with his/her favorite bands and songs, which we were not familiar with up to that moment. It was a clear invitation to get ready: we would have attended next concert together. Is this not filling the gap between acquaintance and friendship?!

The creative process itself was challenging. Producers, labels, recording studios were nothing compared to our inventiveness! The source was rarely only one: we took a song from a CD, another track was on an old tape, that other song was to be recorded from radio programs (just try spending hours listening to radio, ready to jump on the “rec” button!).

I proudly remember my most remarkable accomplishment, dating back to the time in which I did not have any CD burner, but I already had songs in my computer. I had put my cassette recorder in front of the computer speakers, I played the songs in digital and recorded it through the stereo microphone. Dolby surround, home theatre… those strangers! Obviously you could hardly hear that song, but the friend who received my gift deeply appreciated it.

“Packaging” was also fundamental. We gathered pens of many different colors to write track titles and make possible decorations. A short personal message in the inner part was never missing. Names of such compilations were extremely imaginative, as we invented them according to our mood.

I have shelves full of these cassettes, I did not throw any of them away. From time to time I listen to them through my poor quality player (technology went on for a reason…) and suddenly many memories come to my mind.

I would like to thank once more all friends who made a cassette for me, thus bringing me in new worlds!

See you soon!

Mary

David Bowie is

(English text follows)

La mostra "David Bowie is" è stata inaugurata a Londra il 23 marzo 2013, al Victoria & Albert Museum. Si tratta di una retrospettiva sulla carriera e sulla vita dell'artista dagli esordi fino ai giorni nostri.

Essendo una fervente fan di Bowie, avrei voluto visitare l'expo fin dalla sua apertura, ma non ho avuto l'occasione di andare a Londra nel periodo di esposizione (che si è concluso nell'agosto dello stesso anno).

Nella primavera di quest'anno è apparsa la notizia che "David Bowie is" sarebbe stata portata a Berlino, per rimanervi fino al 10 agosto. Grazie ad un'imprevisto posticipo della chiusura al 24 agosto, ho potuto visitarla anch'io!

Vi racconto le mie impressioni.

David Bowie is... in Berlin!

Siamo arrivati al Martin-Gropius-Bau, edificio che ospitava l'evento, in un pomeriggio di metà agosto. In coda all'ingresso potevano esserci una cinquantina di persone, per fortuna avevamo acquistato i biglietti on line. Ci hanno dotati di audio-guida e cuffiette Bose (che è, tra l'altro, uno degli sponsor della mostra) e abbiamo iniziato il percorso, che partiva dall'infanzia di David Bowie.
Le prime due stanze inquadravano la società londinese negli anni 40' e 50', ripercorrevano i primi anni dell'artista, le ispirazioni, le prime bands e la scelta del nome d'arte, insomma: il sentiero che ha portato David Robert Jones a diventare David Bowie.

Passando in un terzo ambiente, la nostra audio-guida ha iniziato a riprodurre le note di Space Oddity e ci siamo trovati difronte ad un video con immagini della luna: avevamo appena lasciato la Terra anche noi e non saremmo tornati almeno per i 60 minuti successivi. Abbiamo visitato stanza dopo stanza, viaggiando per più di quattro decenni, attraverso le tracce artistiche lasciate indelebilmente nella storia da Bowie.

Uno dei punti di forza della mostra erano sicuramente gli abiti di scena di David Bowie, una selezione ricchissima: dai costumi di Ziggy Stardust e Aladdin Sane (non so quanto sono rimasta ad ammirare il mantello bianco creato da Yamamoto!), ai completi sobri del Duca Bianco, il cappotto con Union Jack del tour di Earthling e c'erano persino i due pupazzi del video "Where are we now?".

Una delle mie canzoni preferite di questo artista è "Life on Mars?" e ne amo anche il video, un vero esempio del tutto nell'essenzialità. L'abito indossato in questo clip era esposto a fianco di un monitor su cui era riprodotto il video stesso: continuavo ad spostare lo sguardo dal vestito allo schermo e viceversa, mi sembrava che fosse uscito magicamente dalle immagini, in un viaggio spazio-temporale.

Un altro momento da pelle d'oca è stato quando abbiamo raggiunto una stanza molto ampia e con muri alti, l'interno era piuttosto buio. E' partito il video di "Rock 'n' Roll Suicide", il live all'Hammersmith Odeon del 1973. Era proiettato su tutte e quattro le pareti e, a seconda del variare dell'illuminazione, si potevano vedere o le immagini del concerto o le celle nelle pareti, contenenti dei manichini che indossavano abiti di Bowie: era come se apparisse all'improvviso. Noi spettatori eravamo nel mezzo, chi seduto, chi in piedi, ma tutti con il naso all'insù a guardare e a canticchiare il brano. L'idea, forse, era quella di rimanere lì ad oltranza.

Molti altri erano i cimeli provenienti direttamente dall'archivio di Bowie: alcuni strumenti musicali (il suo sax e la sua chitarra!), oggetti tratti dal set dei film più famosi (un mio ricordo d'infanzia: la sfera di cristallo di Jareth in Labyrinth!), video interviste di diverse epoche e tanti scritti "storici" (lo scambio epistolare - lettere firmate e scritte a mano- tra Bowie e Marlene Dietrich!).

L'ultima parte dell'esposizione era dedicata agli anni berlinesi di David Bowie. Dato il mio amore per Berlino e il fatto che la mostra stesse facendo tappa proprio in questa città, tale sezione ha assunto per me connotati ancora più forti. Erano presenti documenti e immagini tratte dalla vita quotidiana di Bowie e Iggy Pop, negli Hansa Studios e per le vie di Berlino, tra il 1976 e il 1978.

Spostandosi verso gli anni '80, venivano proiettate scene del film Christiane F. - Noi, ragazzi dello Zoo di Berlino (e nelle nostre cuffiette risuonava Helden, la versione in tedesco di Heroes, brividi.

Ma è stato proprio alla fine, poco prima di uscire, che mi sono un po' commossa: l'ultimo schermo riproduceva uno speciale sul concerto tenuto nel 1987 a Platz der Republik, a Berlino. La location era nella parte ovest della città, poco distante dal confine. Il concerto era udibile anche da Berlino est, dove la gente cercava di avvicinarsi al Muro, per poter essere più partecipe del momento. La polizia cercava di tenerli lontani, quella notte ci sono stati diversi scontri. Bowie era consapevole di quella parte del suo pubblico che non avrebbe potuto raggiungerlo fisicamente sotto il palco e ha concluso il concerto salutando tutti gli amici dall'altra parte del Muro.

Per me è stata una sensazione forte, un mix di "amore artistico e geografico" e partecipazione storica. Uscire, poco dopo, con addosso ancora il trasporto di queste ultime immagini e rendersi conto (alle mostre ci si estranea sempre un po') di essere a Berlino, era come sentirla sulla pelle.

Se avete la possibilità (e se avete interesse nella tematica, ovviamente), vi consiglio di andare a vedere "David Bowie is", è davvero ricca ed emozionante.

Vi lascio il link con l'elenco delle locations e delle date già confermate:

SAVE THE DATE!

Ciaoooooooooooooooo

Mary

*********************************************************************

David Bowie is exhibition was first open to the public in London on 23rd March 2013, at Victoria & Albert Museum. It is a retrospective of the life and career of the artist, from the beginning till nowadays.

I am a huge Bowie's fan, I would have liked so much to see the expo, but I did not have the chance to go to London in that period (it closed in August of the same year).

In spring 2014 it was announced that David Bowie is would have reached Berlin, to stay there until August 10th. Thanks to an unexpected extention to August 24th, I could visit it too!

Let me tell you my impressions.

We arrived at the Martin-Gropius-Bau, building which hosted the event, in a afternoon of mid August. There were about fifty people queuing at the entrance, fortunately we had bought our tickets on line. We have been provided with an audio guide and Bose headphones (Bose was also one of the sponsor of the exhibition) and we began our itinerary, which started from Bowie's childhood.

The first two rooms introduced London's social background in the 40s - 50s, the early years of the artist, his inspirations, the first bands, the choice of his stage name, in short: the path which led David Robert Jones to David Bowie.

Entering a third room, our audio guide started to play the notes of Space Oddity, we were in front of a monitor displaying a video with images of the moon: we had just left the Earth too and we would not have come back, at least for the following sixty minutes. We visited room after room, travelling across four decades through the artistic footprints indelibly left in history by Bowie.

One of the strongest point of the exhibition were surely David Bowie's stage clothes, a very reach selection: from Ziggy Stardust's bodysuits and Aladdin Sane clothing (I don't know how long I stood there admiring the white Cloak designed by Yamamoto!), to the sober suits of the Thin White Duke, moreover the Union Jack Coat of Earthling's tour and also the puppets from the video clip of "Where are we now?".

One of my favourite songs by this musician is "Life on Mars?" and I love the video too: it is a true example of "all in the essential". The suit worn by Bowie in this clip was exposed next to a monitor in which the video itself was running: I stared from the video to the suit and  backwards over and over again, it seemed to me like it had magically come out from those images, in a space-time journey.

Life on Mars?

Another highly emotional moment was reached when we entered a wide room, with almost no light inside. "Rock 'n' roll Suicide" video started to run, the one taken from Hammersmith Odeon concert in 1973: it was projected on all the four high walls and, according to light variation, we could see either the concert images or some cells in the wall, where mannequins wearing Bowie's clothes were standing. It was like he himself had suddenly appeared. We, audience, stood in the middle, some sat, some standing, but all looking above and singing the song along. I think none of us intended to move from there as long as it had lasted, even all night long if necessary.

There were many more special items, coming directly from Bowie's archive: some music instruments (his saxophone and his guitar!), objects from his best known movies (a personal childhood memory of mine: the crystal ball from Labyrinth!), video interviews from different periods and many "historical" written documents (the letter-exchange -handwritten and signed- between Marlene Dietrich and him!).

The last part of the exhibition was devoted to the Berlin years of David Bowie. Given my deep love for Berlin and the fact that the expo was taking place in this city at the moment, this section was strongly significant and dear to me. There were several documents and photos from Bowie's and Iggy Pop's everyday life , in the Hansa Studios and in the streets of Berlin, between 1976 and 1978.

Moving towards the 80s, we could see some scenes of the  movie Christiane F. - We Children from Bahnhof Zoo (in our headphones was playing Helden, the German version of Heroes. Shivers.).

However, it was at the very end, just before leaving the exhibition, that I was touched the most: the last screen was showing a documentary about the concert which was held in 1987 at Platz der Republik, in Berlin. The location was in the former western sector of the city, not far away from the border. The concert could be heard also in the eastern sector of Berlin and people tried to get the nearest possible to the Wall, to hear better and to somehow take part to the moment. Police tried to keep them back. There have been many fights that night. Bowie was aware of that part of his audience, who would have never been able to reach him phisically under the stage and he finished his concert greeting all friends at the other side of the Wall.

I felt a strong sensation, a mix of "artistic and geographic love" and historical involvement. Going out, short afterwards, still being moved by the last images and realizing (I am always distracted from reality at exhibitions) to be Berlin, it was like feeling it on my skin.

If you have the chance, and obviously if you are interested in the topic, I strongly suggest that you visit "David Bowie is", it is really rich and exciting.

I link you here all locations and dates already confirmed: SAVE THE DATE!

See you soon!

Mary

Ritorno al K17

(English text follows)

Al K17 sono stata per la prima volta nell’estate del 2003: primo viaggio a Berlino, inizio della mia “svolta dark”.

All’epoca non ero ancora molto informata su come muovermi nei vari parties in città, ricordo che io e l’inseparabile amica che era partita con me cercavamo le serate di nostro interesse sulla rivista Zitty, poiché del “Das Schwarze Buch” non avevamo mai neppure sentito parlare

Un gentile, ma poco aggiornato, informatore, ci aveva detto che il locale si trovava nella Kadiner Strasse, al numero 17. Brutta sorpresa è stata trovare l’edificio chiuso, neppure una luce accesa ad incoraggiarci a cercare un altro ingresso, neanche un anima per strada. E’ qui la festa??? Mi sa di no.

Non è stato facilissimo trovare qualcuno che potesse chiarirci le idee ma, alla fine, abbiamo trovato anche l’informatore aggiornato: il K17 si era spostato, nella Pettenkofer Strasse n. 17. Da quel momento per me è iniziata una serie lunghissima di serate trascorse in quel locale, anno dopo anno, vacanza dopo vacanza, con persone diverse.

Al K17 si andava di martedì e giovedì, perché il lunedì c’era il party “Montag im Duncker” (e c’è ancora, per fortuna!), il mercoledì “Sentimentale Jugend” all’Halford (purtroppo questa serata, invece, riposa in pace da poco meno di un decennio), il venerdì era dedicato al Kato (ha riaperto con un altro nome, cosa fanno?) e il sabato c’era troppo metal per i nostri gusti.

La preparazione prima di uscire avrebbe potuto dar vita ad un nuovo programma televisivo, “Pimp my dark”, perché tanto non si correva mai il rischio di essere eccessivi rispetto agli altri frequentatori, si esprimeva la propria creatività, si sperimentava sul proprio look e a me piaceva!

Un volta arrivati al club, si facevano incontri di ogni tipo: ragazze che sembravano modelle gotiche (e magari lo erano davvero), ragazzi altissimi che indossavano gonne molto più lunghe delle nostre, personaggi con outfit e trucco elaboratissimi (raffinati e non) e poi gli italiani, quelli che come me erano lì in vacanza, ma che facevano i fenomeni, senza accorgersi che nessuno li notava. Si, perché il mood che avvertivo io era quello: nessuno ti giudicava, ma nessuno ti notava, però tutti ti rispettavano. Poteva esistere una combinazione migliore? Chissà se tutti la percepivamo così?

Le cose nel tempo sono un po’ cambiate, le serate del martedì e del giovedì hanno avuto cadenza oscillante, il sabato offriva solo un po' di dark music e l'età media degli avventori si era notevolmente abbassata. Poi, qualche anno fa, la gestione del locale sembrava aver preso una direzione differente, nell’elenco delle serate iniziavano a comparire parties r’n’b, feste di fine anno scolastico, musica più “colorata”, fino a far diradare gli eventi dark. Non è che ci sia qualcosa di male ad ascoltare r’n’b’ o generi simili, ma semplicemente non era ciò che mi interessava e, tra il 2010 e il 2011, ho smesso di frequentare le serate danzanti del K17, ovviamente a malincuore, dato che era il locale che un po’ aveva “visto” le fasi della mia crescita.

L’offerta di concerti, però, non era cambiata: moltissimi artisti della scena dark continuavano ad esibirsi live al K17 e quante volte ho preso un aereo dall’Italia per andare a sentire i miei gruppi preferiti (Blutengel e Solar Fake tra tutti)! Rimanevo comunque sempre solo nell’edificio dedicato ai live.

Fino al 2014.

Lo scorso agosto ero nuovamente a Berlino, sbirciando nel Das Schwarze Buch, ho intravisto una serata possibilmente interessante: FRIDAY CLUB: 80s + 90s, Rock, Metal, Gothic, andiamo? Andiamo!

Non me ne sono pentita. Il club era di nuovo pieno di gente, le tre sale avevano ripreso quasi del tutto l’identità originaria: dark wave e post punk al primo piano, musica anni ’90 (e vabbè!) e anni ’80 al secondo piano e metal al terzo. Era una sensazione piacevole essere nuovamente lì a ballare o anche solo stare seduti nel Biergarten all’ingresso (ma hanno creato anche un nuovo cortiletto interno!), tra un darkettone e l’altro, a bere qualcosa o mangiare un panino cucinato sul momento, guardare il cielo e, per un attimo, pensare che quella sia l’unica realtà, senza tempo.

Spero che tutto rimanga com’è, ad aspettarmi per la prossima tappa a Berlino!

Auf wiedersehen K17, tornerò!

********************************************************************************

I have been in K17 for the first time in summer 2003: my first trip to Berlin, the beginning of my “dark era”.

At the time I still did not know very well how to look for parties in the city. I remember that my closest friend (who was on holiday with me) and I used to check parties in the magazine Zitty, as we did not know about the existence of Das Schwarze Buch.

A kind guy, though not a well informed one, told us that the club was at number 17 of Kadiner Strasse. What a bad surprise we had when we were face to face to a closed door, a building with no lights which could invite us to look for a  second entrance, not a single person around. Is party here??? I don’t think so.

It had not been very easy to find someone who could give us more reliable information but, in the end, we met somebody who was a bit more up-to-date with was going on in Berlin’s night life: K17 had moved in Pettenkofer Strasse n. 17. From that moment on I spent so many nights in this club, year after year, holiday after holiday, with several people.

We used to go to K17 on Tuesday and on Thursday, because on Monday there was (and fortunately there’s still!) “Montag im Duncker” party, on Wednesday “Sentimentale Jugend” party in Halford (this party was cancelled a little less than ten years ago), Friday was devoted to Kato (it was recently opened with another name, what's up down there?) and Saturday was too much metal-oriented for our taste.

If someone had filmed us while preparing before a night out, a new TV show could have been broadcasted: “Pimp my dark”! Because we knew that there was no risk of being over-the-top, compared to the other party attenders: we expressed our creativity, experimented on our look and I loved it!

Once arrived at the club, we saw people of every kind: girls who looked like gothic models (and maybe they were actually), very tall guys wearing skirts much longer than ours, eccentric characters with very complicated outfits and make up (some well done, some not) and furthermore Italians, who were in Berlin on holiday like me, but played the V.I.P.s, not realizing that no one noticed them. This was the atmosphere I felt: nobody judged you and nobody noticed you, but everybody respected you. Could a better combination exist? I wonder if we all shared this mind.

Year by year things changed a bit, Tuesday’s and Thursday’s parties did not happen regularly any longer, Saturday offered only a little dark music and the avarage age of the customers lowered. Eventually, some years ago, the club management took another direction: in the list of parties started to appear some r’n’b’ nights, end of school parties and “colorful music” in general, so that dark parties became quite rare. I mean, there’s nothing wrong in listening to r’n’b’ and stuff like that, it was simply not what I was interested in. The result was that around 2010-2011 I stopped attending K17’s dancing parties. I was a little disappointed, of course, because this club “witnessed” my growing-up (mmm…or better my “getting old”?) since my early twenties.

However, concerts continued to take place normally in K17: artists belonging to the dark scene performed there, as they had always done. I have often taken flights from Italy to reach the German capital city and see my favourite bands (Blutengel and Solar Fake among all), but I only hung in the live performances building of the club.

Until 2014.

Last August I was in Berlin again. Checking Das Schwarze Buch I picked up a party who seemed interesting: FRIDAY CLUB: 80s + 90s, Rock, Metal, Gothic, let’s go? Let’s go!

I’m glad I went. The club was once more full of people, the three dance floors showed again their former identity: dark wave and post punk music on the first floor, ‘90s (ok, ok…) and ‘80s music on the second floor and metal music on the third floor. It felt good to be back there dancing, or even just sitting at the Biergarten at the entrance (they created a further open air space in the inner part!), among other gruftis, drinking or eating a freshly made sandwich, watching the sky and, for a moment, thinking that this is the only reality, timeless.

I hope that everything stays as it is, waiting for my next journey to Berlin!

Auf wiedersehen K17, I’ll come back!