Some Music and a Whole Lot of Noise

There is music, and then there is noise. At least that's what I thought until very recently. But apparently, things have changed in the 2.0 world and now noise has become music. If you are thinking of noise music as groups  of young men that perform with wooden sticks on garbage can on the streets, you got it all wrong. According to Wikipedia, in noise music NOISE is the primary aspect of the sound and this includes pretty much anything, such as:

...live machine sounds, non-musical vocal techniques, physically manipulated audio media, processed sound recordings, field recordings, computer generated noise, stochastic processes and other randomly produced electronic signals such as distortion, feedback, static, hiss and hum.

So while noise might seem to some like a bunch of people who don't know how to play an instrument or sing, but want to be musicians, to others it is actually a sophisticated musical style.

Dear reader, if you know ask yourself: "Why the hell is she theorizing about noise music??" I am trying to set up a theoretical, sound background because from here on, it's going to get craaaaaazy, (well, somewhat) and I always feel that it helps to help some science to hold on to when the world is going mad around you.
Let's beam ourselves to Dayton, Ohio on a late summer night. What seems like a small, sleepy town will become the Pungent Dungeon. Literally, because that is exactly the name of the place/house/basement where we are headed. WE includes: my boyfriend and me, our friend G - who is actually going to perform at the noise concert - his dog Guapo (imagine an overly eager BIG and HEAVY puppy riding in the back with you, and ON you, while occasionally spreading his saliva all over you) and two other friendly fellows, C. and A, who are by the way BOTH allergic to dogs. Finally at the Pungent Dungeon, WE humans and the dog are probably equally happy to get out of the car and into the (drum roll): dark dungeon! Dark because the first thing I see is 6 guys, sitting on the couch, all dressed in black. Pretty soon it becomes obvious that is is the way to dress and look at a noise party, if you are male: long, messy hair; facial hair is a plus, biker jeans and a jeans vest (!!) and a black T-shirt with some obscure band name written on it. If you are a girl, at least at this noise party, it seems you're there because of your boyfriend. I spot a total of maybe 20-30 guys and about 4 girlfriends (including me). We are all standing, sitting, lounging around in a Christmas lights lit basement (the infamous Pungent Dungeon) and everything is slightly foggy because this place is clearly an all-smoking zone. Everybody's waiting for the noise to start.
G. is the first one up - and I am actually impressed. He manages to mix sounds from a tape recorder, feedback, his voice on a loop and drum beats to a very entertaining musical experience. Unfortunately, this is already as good as it gets. G's act is followed by the probably most boring use of distortion pedals I have ever heard, only to be exchanged for the most disturbing use of distortion pedals that I have ever heard. There seems to be some unwritten law though that you cannot leave during a performance. Not because it might seem impolite, mainly because it's interpreted as weak. You cannot show that the noise, as much as it might hit the most sensitive nerves in your ear, got to you and you gave in. You just have to listen through it. Luckily, I have this really bad habit of looking through people's drawers in the bathroom, and here I find: ear plugs! At this point, I am ready to glorify and worship the person who invented ear plugs. With the help of my little friends in my ear, I actually make it through the rest of the concert. On the way out, I run into another girlfriend. She seems really upset: "My boyfriend's in there, doing what he loves most - talking about himself. So I left." I am not sure what to say, we seem past the point of saying "hi", introducing ourselves and exchanging basic information. So I simply ask: "That sucks. Which one is your boyfriend?" She explains: "The one with the jeans vest, the black T-shirt and the beard." "Ohhh, HIM!" Luckily, our little group has gathered around me, including a ready-to-roll Guapo, and saves me from having to guess which one of the 20 guys that fit the girl's description is the egocentric boyfriend. We are ready to leave the world of noise music.
Well, Pungent Dungeon, it was a pleasure, thank you for the musi... NOISE! I am not quite sure what kind of experience it was but it was definitely an experience! One, I wouldn't want to miss!

Interested in the obscure sounds of the Pungent Dungeon? Check out this short clip:

Sports Time or: My First Baseball Game Ever (yes, really!)

It's been three weeks since my super short mini trip to New York City, and as I have mentioned before, after this trip, even my usually very tranquil life in Cincinnati has became somewhat of a NYC-like event tornado. And it's about time that I tell you what I have been up to!
Let's start with baseball. Yes, the sport to me formerly known as the sport where a guy throws a ball, another one hits it, and some stand around and watch; in other words: the sport that seems like the slowest sport on earth to me. Seriously, when it comes to American sports, I am such a German. Meaning: I can tell you the exact minute when Germany scored the crucial goal against Argentina in the World Cup of 2006 (mintue 80), but when it comes to baseball or worse, football, I just see a big field and a bunch of padded guys doing strange things.
Now, I guess this general ignorance is somewhat acceptable for a foreigner, but I simply got tired of being the only one who didn't get the punchline of a sports joke. Even one of my usually very understanding American friends was somewhat shocked when he told me casually about Reggie Jackson, and I just asked: "Reggie Who???". It became clear to me that if I wanted to understand and be a part of American culture, at some point I just HAD to get into sports. So baseball it was (mainly because football tickets are three times more expensive, but shhh ... don't tell anyone)! And I wanted to do it right, the whole nine yards, so to speak. This meant no participant-observer I-am-standing-back-and-watching-everybody attitude this time! If I was going to watch a Cincinnati Reds baseball game, I wanted to look like a real fan. So I searched my boyfriend's closet for his smallest Reds T-shirt, made him dress up in full gear as well, and off we went. I felt prepared.

My game plan was mainly not to make a complete fool of myself. Well, I think that strategy failed as soon as we got to the stadium and I wanted to run to get to our seats since the game was about to start. I didn't know that that's exactly what you DON'T do at a baseball game. Unlike soccer, where you don't want to miss a second of the 90 minutes, because you never know, you might miss the goal of the century in those first 3 seconds! Not so with baseball. It seems that people at a ballpark do pretty much everything BUT watch the game: they get drinks, hot dogs (yes, I had some, too - just like in the movies!!!!), they walk around and then they finally and slowly go to their seats. Which made perfect sense once I understood that the game only gets really interesting after the 5th inning. These first innings however (check that out, I even know what an inning is now!), gave me enough time to annoy the heck out of everybody around me by asking about pretty much anything and everything that was going on during the game. “Why can only one team score? What is a strike? What does it mean to steal a base?” And my most frequently asked question— “Hey, what just happened???”

Meet my veeeeery patient friends!

I even got the notion that baseball involves a lot of strategy and even if I still don't appreciate the pitcher taking 20 minutes to throw a ball, I can grasp - at least on a very basic level - some of the strategy behind it. So guess what? It wasn't boring at all!

And more importantly, I think I have eliminated some great embarrassment potential (and maybe there's still a chance for me some day to impersonate an American spy to perfection): I learned first of all that it's not a guy throwing a ball but a pitcher and the other guy with the bat is the batter. I learned what a kiss cam is, I learned that some people practice dance choreographies, hoping to be on camera, and I also learned that everybody seems to be bringing their dogs to a baseball game, at least in Cincinnati (??). Of course, baseball can't beat soccer but (forgive me, my German friends) I actually think I like it!

 

New York, New York - Part III

Welcome to the third and last part of my New York City experience. And I promise, I´ll make it as quick as it went by, because I am not sure if it was the air, the tap water that I drank (oops!), the food, or a virus that I caught; but since I came back, my quiet life in the Midwest has been anything BUT quiet - and I can't wait to tell you what I have been up to (I got pretty much anything from giant ants to baseball to talk about, so I promise, it won't be boring!). But back on track: New York, New York, day 3, the final day.

By this time, I am afraid, NY chaos took over, and I realized on the subway that I had forgotten my camera. So I have exactly 0 pictures of this last day in New York which is extremely annoying, especially since I wanted to show you all Harlem. I remember, about 15 years ago, in my mind Harlem was probably the most dangerous place on earth (this is before 9/11, Syria and global warming ... yes, I am THAT old). It was definitely not a place for tourists. I am not sure if Harlem changed that much (I hear it DID change considerably though) or if my perception was only focused on one-sided media coverage, either way: the Harlem that I saw a few weeks ago, I love! It still doesn't strike me as a "white" neighborhood, but it was a friendly, vibrant neighborhood that reminded me a lot of South America. It was a completely different New York vibe that had nothing to do with what is going on in hip Brooklyn or chic Manhattan. First of all, it was noisy, in a very Latino way: people have conquered the streets in Harlem. This is where the locals hang out, dance, play music and chess, sell clothes/incense/pirate DVDs/food. This is also the place in New York where I have seen more cars than cabs, and 90% of them seem to be honking, which was actually very reminiscent of Lima, Peru to me. And this is also the place where old ladies ask you: "Quiere braidar su hair?" - which produced great nostalgia in me, and I was almost ready to say: Siii-po! (for all those who have never met a Chilean, this means: "Hell yeah!"). As far as food goes: If you like soul food, restaurants without AC blowing the next ice age at you, and Reggae music, this is your hood! Obviously, my snobbish guide book recommended the three most expensive restaurants in Harlem, which are right outside the metro station. This actually made me wonder if the author ever made it past that very street corner in Harlem ... but if you do walk a couple of blocks off 125th Street (the main drag in Harlem), you can find the most delicious soul food places, and actually pretty cheap, considering this is still NYC.
I am glad I got to see this site of the chameleon that is New York City, and I am already starting to plan what parts of the city I want to see next time!

A few final remarks:

- Take the Chinatown bus into the city: great prices, good drivers, comfortable seats (don´t believe people who want to tell you otherwise!)
- Was it just me, or do all males really look like hipsters?
- Make sure to get a guide book that has more than 10 pages total (!) on neighborhoods besides Manhattan
- If you're a tourist, New Yorkers are MUCH friendlier than their reputation
- Go, enjoy, immerse yourself in the craziness, leave, recuperate - and then go back!

The End

If you want to know how this saga started, check it out here: http://wanderstrudel.blogspot.com/2013/09/new-york-new-york-part-i.html