Uui-uui! I got to Geneva, got everything necessary done
(incl. finally dumping my digicam) and set off to Berlin together with
Arto & Atte the next morning. The 12 hours passed amazingly quickly
and I even managed to take a 6-hour ICE high-speed train (250 km/h!) for
free, as the conductor evidently thought our reservation for "3 sans
supplement"
meant with, not without, supplement prepaid!
Upon exit from the train station we were immediately greeted by a cute
girl wearing only a bra and hot pants, obviously hawking something.
Wary after Tunisia I walked right past, but the others were sufficiently
intrigued to communicate -- and it's a good thing they did, as it turned
out she was selling BVG's special 10 DEM armbands that are valid for the
entire Love Parade weekend and allow the use of all buses, trains, etc
in the Berlin area. The plastic armband is sweat-resistant and impossible
to lose, and it's even colored a bright flourescent red! Absolutely
brilliant!
After downing some cheap fast-food Chinese we headed for the hotel, running
into my friends Sampo & Heidi on the way, and absolutely everybody
else at the hotel itself. The hotel turned out to be quite amazing:
large, bright rooms with comfy beds, bathroom, TV, the works... and
at 1/3 the list price quite cheap too. But the best thing was that
the entire hotel was reserved for us alone, so we could party as hard as
we wanted and only worry about upsetting the neighbors. The Entropy
crew brought their own PA equipment, so by evening the music was pumping
and everybody, most definitely including myself, was psyched -- we're in
Berlin! For the Love Parade! And maybe for the last time, as
rumor says it'll move to Paris next year...
Work that motherfucker!
-- Steve Poindexter
(Djax-Up-Beats)
|
| Dateline: |
Friday 9.7.1999 |
| Location: |
Hotel an der Gropiusstadt, Neukölln, Berlin |
I
slept late, which was no surprise as it was the first real bed I'd seen
since I left Tunisia. Yet another advantage of conquering the entire
hotel became apparent: the breakfast hours had been moved from the usual
obscene 6-9 to a far more pleasant 10-12. Joy! After downing
free (albeit hideous) caffeine it was time to shop 'till you drop, taking
in some of central Berlin along the way. This was my 3rd time in
Berlin so I knew the city well enough, but Arto was here for the first
time. We headed straight for the famed Market (Uhlandstraße
29), the local Mecca for trendy but oh-so-expensive techno gear.
I fell in love with a pair of perfectly fitting khaki thigh-pocket pants
by Dose and splurged 100 DEM. After plonking down more cold cash
on a techno remix of some Skinny Puppy tracks and a package of contact
lenses I had whittled away 200 DEM and decided to return to the hotel before
more damage was done.
In a peculiar repeat of 1997, there was a high-class Chinese place right
next to our hotel, so again we gathered a small group of friends and ordered
a traditional gigantic meal for (relative) peanuts. (Except one unnamed
person, who opted for the traditional Chinese treat of... french
fries.) Ever the linguist, I was considerate enough to reply to the
waitress' German phrases with a xièxie or two, eliciting
a giggled smile and, as it turned out, a free glass of plum wine for everybody.
And
then it was time to get ready for the night's party, Licht & Liebe
(Light & Love), which was also the official opening party of the Love
Parade. Just about everybody else had also been shopping and the
hot item of the day was obviously a wraparound dress by Ultramarine.
One of the many purchasers included my (male) roommate Panu, as well as
our resident freak Jalmari, whose girlfriend provided a bit of needed balance
by wearing a tie. By the time we set off it was past midnight and
we were greeted everywhere by the siren song of the kebab seller:
"Red Bull! Red Bull!" But we ignored their calls and swapped
increasingly stupid and/or obscene jokes until we arrived at the night's
venue, the aptly named Arena. Entrance cost 20 DEM and getting in
past security was a joke... except, alas, for poor Panu, who not
only had his booze but his plastic policeman's baton confiscated as well.
So I entered the massive hall and immediately my jaw dropped.
There were thousands of people milling about in a hall the size of the
football stadium the Arena is, and the tune being played on the massive
speakers stacked all around the hall in a bizarre 8-point formation was
"Olé olé, olé olé, olé olé...".
Whaaaat?
I desperately searched for more halls, a chillout, anything to get away
from the dreaded sound of Latin discopop, but no, nothing -- the only alternative
source of sound was the cordoned-off VIP area outside. The horror.
Fortunately, the DJ was soon carted off to the Stasi dungeons for questioning,
and The Man himself, creator and head honcho of the Parade Dr. Motte stepped
up to the decks. Much to my amazement it was pretty good, dancy stuff;
so good, in fact, that I managed to lose my cheap-ass but spiffy sunglasses
at some point when bouncing around. The live hip-hop(py) set by the
mysterious Messrs. X and Y "sucked ass", to use a Southparkism, but then
it was time to for the night's real star Takkyu Ishino to start spinning...
and was it groov-eah! Pretty odd in some ways, he seemed to be mixing
the bass of hard-hitting monotrax with poppier house, but the music just
got better and better with time. I was planning to leave around 4
when the first trains started running, but being the evil man that he is,
Ishino-sensei kept me there well past 5.
But all good things must come to an end and eventually I set off back,
joining a guy from the hostel for company on the 1.5 hr trip back.
The poor guy was obviously dosed to the gills on some hallucinogen, his
mumblings were incoherent and he would probably have had a pretty hard
time finding his way back. At the hotel another small surprise was
hanging on the door knob (freely translated from the Finnish):
There's a woman here.
Room 23, the bed next to the window.
Thanks a million |
I grinned and, with the thoughtfully included key, made my way to room
23, where everybody was too comatose to question my presence.
Music is the key
-- Love Parade
1999
|
| Dateline: |
Saturday 10.7.1999 |
| Location: |
Straße des 17. Juni, Tiergarten, Berlin |
And
at long last it was Love Parade day! Definitely no time to sleep
late, I ejected myself from bed before 9 and went shopping for latex gloves
and energy drinks. I sneaked into the bathroom and emerged some fifteen
minutes later with half a can of Directions' Spring Green semi-permanent
dye smeared into my hair. (I originally wanted to get a quasi-mohawk
to go along with it, but a complex conspiracy involving displaced dye cans
and poor German ability prevented this.) I opted for
the conformist route and wore the thoughtfully provided "Tripping with
Entropy: Love Parade 1999" shirt like everybody else in my little group,
but without a doubt the most amazing outfit at the hotel was Pasi's, who
dressed up as a green-haired Hattivatti complete with four waving arms.
We
hopped on the U-Bahn and headed for Ernst-Reuter-Platz, carefully choosing
an obscure route to avoid the hordes that plague all centrally located
stations. Finding our way was easy, as the traffic was practically
unidirectional, and by the time we arrived it was 14:00. The first
attraction was the pumpin' monotraxx being churned out by the Evosonic
satellite radio folks, but we were here for the parade, dammit! Beyond
the large fountain-cum-wading pool (populated by overheated freaks) we
could see RTL's yellow balloons indicating the locations of the trucks,
so after each of us popped 10 DEM for some k-rad glasses it was time to
march on.
The
initially tolerable population density increased as we approached the central
Siegessäule
(Tower of Victory), the landmark of the Parade. After lots of aimless
aimbling about we parked ourselves behind the truck of the Smog crew ("fresher
than air!"), which was blasting out quite tolerable Detroit tracks.
The best way to get some space for yourselves and keep moving is to stay
behind a truck: as the truck moves forward, it will create empty space
and you can just walk behind it. Quite a few Smog-people were considerate
enough to hose down the crowd with Super Soakers, which was much appreciated!
Eventually
we decided to slog on towards the Siegessäule, which turned out to
be a bit of a mistake. By this point it was obvious that there were
a lot more people milling about than in previous years, and a very nasty
chokepoint had developed at the point where the avenue opens onto the central
square: it was literally impossible to move! Drunken German idiots
laughed merrily and pushed at each other, sending domino-effect surges
through the immobile crowd and making me almost lose my balance a number
of time. Fortunately an escape route was nearby, as the wall separating
the avenue from the surrounding park was close and friendly people atop
the wall were hoisting people on the wall and away from the crowd. We headed
for this and, while waiting for our turn, I even managed a halfway decent
shot of some sunflower girliez dancing on the wall. In the end, we
escaped without a scratch, but I learned later that an acquaintance had
fallen down and banged her knee badly -- and she considered herself lucky...
Having
had enough of the parade for the moment, we grabbed some kebabs and went
to look for the anti-Love Parade simply and eloquently known as the Fuckparade.
We found the starting location alright, as there were masses of trash,
broken bottles, etc lying about, but there was no sign of the parade itself.
Quite a few others seemed to be looking for it as well, but they were just
as clueless. So we gave up and tackled the Love Parade from the other
end. Along our way from the Brandenburg Gate to the Siegessäule
we ran into not one, but two separate groups of Finns, neither of which
was related to Entropy. The first bunch were exchange students in
Berlin, the second was Interrailing and decided to stop here for a little
party, hanging onto a central lamp post and waving Finnish flags. Suomi
Finland Perkele! On the other side of the street there was a
line of policemen and policewomen, quite a few of them bopping to the beat
and posing with drag queens.
By
the time we reached the Siegessäule night was slowly falling and people
were starting to leave, so it wasn't quite as crowded as before.
Another over-the-wall trick was still necessary, and my feet were starting
to hurt enough that I was seriously contemplating quitting and going home,
but in retrospect I'm glad I didn't! The remaining three of us managed
to secure places on the wall around the Siegessäule, and heilige
Scheiße, what a sight! Standing in front of a teeming,
animalistic mass of humanity, naked flesh colored red by the spotlights,
the gold-topped shadow of the Siegessäule standing proudly against
a deep blue sky, synchronized pulsing techno beats coming from trucks slowly
orbiting the central pole... France, Hungary, Finland, people of
all nations all dancing together... I felt a sense of downright religious
awe and I danced as hard as you can on a 30-cm strip of concrete raised
a meter and a half in the air (which is not much).
Around 11 PM I could no longer ignore the squeals of pain from my battered
legs and I started the long trek out of Tiergarten to the U-Bahn station
and back to the hotel, joining the small minority who actually slept that
night. Just what kind of drugs is everybody else taking?
Eine Kebab, bitte
-- yours truly
|
| Dateline: |
Sunday 11.7.1999 |
| Location: |
Euro-Asia Imbiß, Hönow, Berlin |
In a superhuman show of strength and endurance I managed to drag myself
out of bed before 12, in time for breakfast. I spent most of the
afternoon loafing around the party room downstairs, attempting to mix Skinny
Puppy with Kodo and sitting on the green grass outside, wondering why a
garden hose was constantly dribbling into a small patch, which had become
a jungly swamp while the rest of the garden was dehydrated. (As an
experiment, I moved the hose to a different patch. When I returned
in the evening, it had been moved back to its original place. Mysterious...)
But
after all this lolling about it was time to get going, and with Arto and
Tero in tow I headed for the former heart of East Berlin, Alexanderplatz.
We wanted to scale the famously ugly Fernsehturm (TV Tower), but
entrance was an extortionate 9 DEM and there was a long line to boot.
Instead, I contented myself with finding an exquisitely scuplted lobster
in a fountain at the other end of the square.
Around 17:30 we met Sampo & Heidi and embarked on our most bizarre
Berlin journey yet. A careful examination of the Berlin map indicated
that line U5, appropriately colored a delightful shade of Scheiße,
extended the farthest out into former East Berlin, terminating in the suburb
of Hönow. So what better way to spend an afternoon than take
the train there and back? (Remember, with the LP bracelet all public
transport was free!) Somewhat to our disappointment the trains themselves
were of Wessie design, so new that they still smelled like plastic.
After some 10-odd stations the U-Bahn plopped up above the ground, and
we were met with exciting scenery consisting of... fields.
Nothing else, just green fields. But soon enough the train pulled
into the next station, and we proceeded to match East Berlin suburbs with
those around Helsinki. "Ohmigod. We've arrived in Kerava."
"Matinkylä." "Now this place is definitely Itä-Pasila."
"Kontula." "But where's all the urban decay? This place looks
like fucking Olari!" 10 years have passed since the end of the old
era and much has, indeed, changed -- all these suburbs were much less hideous
looking than I would have expected.
Upon
arrival at our destination, Hönow, we decided that it must be the
twin suburb of Hyvinkää. We spotted a shopping mall and
went for a look, stopping for a döner kebab along the way (with
me opting for a 2 DEM bürek instead -- yum yum, just as greasy
as the ones in Slovenia!). The shopkeeper was much amused by the
appearance of a bunch of weird techno freaks and our pathetic attempts
at communication in German. There was a sign on the wall advertising
the local Paradise Disco and a row of slot machines in the back.
Such a sense of dejà
vu suburbanality!
Another
night, another party. I topped off my nuclear-ectoplasm hair by getting
a cyberpunky silver manicure, which matched my sunglasses and complemented
the light-brown-toned khaki outfit. The discussion about where to
go was so long and heated that it was past midnight before we got going.
My original plan was to go take a peek at a hardcore party and continue
on to the night's main event at Ostgut, where both Richie "Plastikman"
Hawtin and Luke Slater were spinning, but sicne public transport stops
around 1 on Sundays I opted to go straight to Ostgut. Along the way
we met a fellow entropist, who told us that Hawtin had cancelled, but at
that time there was little option but to slog on. Tero joined me,
but Jalmari & friends balked at the 20 DEM entrance fee and headed
for the HC party on foot.
In
the end I did not regret my decision one bit. Ostgut is a funky labyrinth
of a place, which in a former life functioned as some sort of train repair
shop: the main hall was set in the, uhh, main hall with the tracks cordoned
off, but massive scanners spinning at the other end -- a really funky effect!
There were three rooms playing various intensities of techno house and
lots of tiny chillouts, including a wonderful one outside with spotlit
trees and tires set as seats in the soft sand, but everybody was gathered
in the main room and for a reason: Luke Slater was spinning a 3-hour set!
At first I was a little underwhelmed, as he was making a bit too many purely
technical errors for my liking, but (once again) as time passed I realized
what an amazingly intense job of deejaying he was doing and, more importantly,
how amazing the music was! Extremely repetitive monotracks mixed
with surgical precision, no ecstastic raises, just a steady beat and the
DJ tweaking volume/treble/bass for crowd response. Brilliant!
Most other entropists found it a little too repetitive, but that's their
problem. =P I danced 'till dawn, said my goodbyes to Arto &
Atte (who were leaving directly to Geneva) and set off for the hotel to
catch a few Z's.
Saatanan saatanan saatana!
-- Kari
|
| Dateline: |
Monday 12.7.1999 |
| Location: |
The autobahn, Berlin-Travemünde |
In
the morning I packed my stuff, stocked up on food at the nearby Aldi-Markt
(the source for 50-pfennig energy drinks and 2-DEM barrels of Frucht Quark)
and piled into the bus to start the journey back to Finland. Not
without a detour though: our bus stopped near Westend to add a few pieces
of gear to Entropy's inventory, namely two Technics SL-1200MK2 pro turntables
and a Numark 2002 mixer. Near our stop, a little machine was selling
plastic aliens for 50p and a mix of gumballs and switchblades for 10 pfennigs
apiece. Some dweeb (who wisely kept his mouth shut) stepped in a
pile of poo and spread dog shit all over the bus, releasing earthy aromas
as the temperature within started to climb.
And climb it did! I conquered my favorite place, the guide's seat
next to the driver, which quickly turned into a furnace: the bus's air-conditioning
was useless in these temperatures and the sunlight was beating straight
down through the window. Midday in Tunisia was nothing compared to
this grilling...
Eventually we pulled off the autobahn and started making our way through
a string of little villages, purposely detouring around the congested cities
of Lübeck and Schwerin. The tree-lined shady avenues were a
welcome relief after the autobahn. The signposting was a little iffy
and once we managed to make a wrong turn, which was fortunately promptly
noticed. So we drove up to a farmhouse's yard and carefully turned
the bus around...
<CRUNCH>
"VOI VITTU! VITUN VITUN VITTU! SAATANAN SAATANAN SAATANA!
PERKELEEN PERKELEEN PERKELE! I'm sorry. VITUN VITUN VITTU!
V-I-T-T-U!" cursed our bus driver, his face red and contorted in an apoplectic
fit of rage.
In an exemplary example of DDR DesignTM, the stump of a tree
had been left in the middle of the driveway, and now the stump made a direct
hit on the fiberglass of the bus's left front panel. Fortunately,
the damage was done primarily to our driver's ego, and we could continue
our journey.
Soon
we arrived at Travemünde, where our crew boarded the m/s Nils Holgersson
after some slooooow passport control done by two bratwurst-eating
beer-bellied Günthers mit Moustache. As on the trip to Berlin
(or so I'm told), the ship crew was very cooperative and we were not only
allowed to conquer the disco, but hold our after-party on the sundeck as
well. After a filling if otherwise less than extraordinary all-you-can-eat
meal at the Pasteria (serves me right for eating pasta after Italy...)
and sharing the remains of a semi-imploded bottle of barely drinkable Saint
Amour red wine it was time to head for the disco, where some Entropy
freaks were already bouncing about, much to the puzzlement of the regulars
who sat in a half-circle around the stage and stared. One of them
proved intoxicated enough to not only get up and dance, but encourage his
friend to join the act, with less success...
Meanwhile,
it was time for the trial by wind of Entropy's very own DJ gear, which
was busily being set up on the moonlit sun deck. Much to everyone's
amazement it worked! Just look at the demonic red glow in Überführer
Sasu's eyes... The wind was fierce and cold, so the Unabomber ChicTM
style I adopted for the occasion proved to be quite appropriate.
Being tired, I decided to go sleep for a few hours and wake up at 5 AM
in time for sunrise... ha, ha, HA!
