The Good Ship Waiski and Turku in Style

And, from Turku, it was into the woods to Puntala Rock, a two-day punk fest in the outskirts of Lempäälä. Gotta love those words with multiple a’s with dots on top of them, no? How boring is English?

Nothing like an evening aboard a boat after a day aboard a boat... Once again, the Subs Experience takes to the high seas (see Innvig, Oslo, 2005), this year aboard Waiski, a restaurant/bar/event space.

Right before Subs took to the stage, I was informed that tragedy had thrice befallen this particular ship: It was once burned and twice sunk. But it stayed afloat (and a-rockin’) on this particular evening. I could write a bit about the first band that performed, a last-minute addition to the bill, about how they had something, something, seemingly bubbling just under the surface, a punk-post-rock-free-jazz kind of vibe that never quite made it up, drowned instead (we are on a boat, a boat that sank -- twice -- no less, so the water metaphor is apt, no?) in a wash of noise mess. Forever Horse, their name was (in Finnish). To add insult to whatever it was that they were inflicting, their guitarist turned toward the crowd only slightly, as he bent to twiddle with effects pedals. “There were two kinds of reactions (to Forever Horse),” one observer told me. “1: ‘I hate them with a passion’. 2: ‘I wish they’d stop.’”

Subs, with Our Man Jani, awaiting the end of the first act’s set. The man behind Sounds Like Suomi, the Finnish musical machine that will tour five Chinese cities in October (and of which I can’t say enough about), also had, earlier in the day, arranged for us a visit to Radio Helsinki.

Another show, another, er, new special friend. He himself said “there’s always one asshole” which is a self-fulfilling prophecy, really, and one that I almost don’t want to acknowledge with photographs. Kang Mao asked if putting these kinds of pictures up on the blog might encourage others to follow in their wake. Seems to me, though, that they’re oblivious to so much more than just my little blog here. So, for your enjoyment, I give you, This Guy. Let’s call him... Chuck.

I should remember the DJ’s name. He’s famous. Really. Here seen in the studios of Radio Helsinki, pre- and post-interview with Kang Mao and myself. This guy, whose name, once again, I should know, was, I’m told among Finland’s first goths. Then, he was among Finland’s first rappers. The interview is supposed to be up on the station’s site soon. When it is, and when someone can help us wade through the Finnish to get there, we will let you know. A taste: First question. To Jon. “So, what kind of scene did you expect before you got to China? Tanks in the Square?” But: It was a great interview; we chatted, I think, like civilized adults whose main purpose was to urge, nay, beg, people to get aboard the SS Waiski for a rock and roll Experience.

And: The show.

He’s also a big fan of the bass. Here, on his way to let Zhu Lei know his feelings...

You can tell by where he’s standing (and, yes, by the way he walks) in relation to Kang Mao that Chuck is an essential part of the show.

And here, trying to offer libations to the same.

(Chuck’s knowledge of the multi-tasking abilities of a bassist, though doesn’t support his love thereof, but hey...)

“Aw yeah,” you can almost hear him say. “I’ll be your asshole, baby.” Or maybe, “You know what my name rhymes with?”

And what special friend experience would be complete without the backstage Experience? Yeah, we all got high fives. Hugs, though, were reserved for Chuckie’s fave bassist.

After Subs, Kometa.

Wah, as the Chinese might say (in a good way, of course). Fantastic. A little bit of prog rock, but not too much, and a whole lot of rockin’. From the stage, from the floor, from a seat at a table at the back and even up a pole. Yellow is the new, umm, whatever the colour before was. Mark my words.

Also, later, in retrospect, Subs noted that it was great to play alongside Kometa because playing with such a different band doing new things was a great way for them to garner inspiration. In fact, already, I’m told, there are new ideas a-brewing.

As the least biggest fan of punk among them (here I’ll add that I got nods of agreement from the band when I’ve pointed out to people that musically Subs is rock but philosophically they are punk) this is great news. Yes, the punk network is tight and loyal, but as we learned in Turku (see below), and at other larger venues/festivals this and last year, the rock network has bigger venues and wider audiences. And the punks will come to check rock shows, but the rockers aren’t eager, in general, to head to the more punk spots.

But enough talk. If you can’t hear Kometa (but go to their website and try!), at least you can see ‘em:

The piece de resistance, though, for any aspiring Chucks out there, is blowing the group shot. And Buddy passed that test in full Technicolor (though you’d have to go to the cutting room floor for the ‘best’[?] examples), though a stroke of --- what’s the word here, that’s not genius...? --- whatever, only appears as a peace sign and as the recipient of the glares of most team members.

Before we were off to Turku, though, there was the small matter of Xiao Bai, whose now three-day absence was being felt through cab rides and long walks home. But, to our amazement, the good people at VW Helsinki managed to MacGuyver her up (according to the mechanic, he used “nuts and bolts” to fill in the leak in the pipe) and the van we got back was a New Machine, one that didn’t a) stall every time she came near a stop b) cough in and out of life during the brief seconds she didn’t stall at a standstill, making us think she might, actually, make it through this one time, as opposed to the other dozens of times she didn’t c) have a Harley-Davidson-inspired growl that let everyone in a three-mile radius know she was coming ten minutes before she arrived and d) make me wrestle with the gear shift every time I shifted gears. We are now, knocking on all the wood I can find, in Xiao Bai’s second phase. Pray for us.

And then there was Turku, back in the hands of Janne, who last year... To which we made it, sans automotive issues, in good time. Such good time that we spent an inordinate amount of time waiting for the equipment to arrive. In between the waiting -- and the discovery that the club had ordered us Chinese Take-Out (actually, it wasn’t nearly as bad as we thought it’d be; in fact, it was quite good. Just not so much zhongcai as much as a nice fry-up) -- we checked in to and hung out at our first hotel of the tour: The Holiday Inn Turku. Aw yeah, Subs finally touring in style.

Three opening bands that night, and another rare break from the hardcore bands generally booked alongside Subs. It was rock and roll night at Klubi: Two of the three even featured... gasp! Percussionists with congas and bongos! (I missed the first band, Moto, sorry. But they didn’t want to share their backline, resulting in a longer-than-necessary wait, so maybe it’s karma. Or that I was enjoying the tour’s first hotel room.)

From the stage...

...from the floor...

...from a seat at a table at the back...

...and even up a pole.

A recipe for a Dr Seuss rock book if I ever heard one. And while we’re at it: Kometa would make for a great Suessian soundtrack...

John Spencer-tinged jam-rock-and-roll from Disgrace. I’m told that they used to be a death metal band. Their singer, even in the rock and roll style, is, onstage, just as scary as any death metal singer I can think of. Not that it’s clear here; you’ll have to trust me.

The car-boards driver leads The Mutant through a funk-driven set of rock a-la Galactic. The Mutants will be hitting Argentina in the fall, so’s you know.

Meanwhile, backstage, Wu Hao prepares by studying an issue of Uncut.

And, out front, more satisfied customers.