Well, howdy and blessings sahibs and memsahibs.
There's a lot to get done, so here's a foretaste starter. Jim and Tamara are hosting a classical Indian music night at Open Space this coming Saturday night (31/5). Tablas and sitars I believe followed (I hope) by a variety of DJ's to take us all on a magical mystery musical melee/melange of tunes to the dawn of Sunday time. No football until the WC2014 starts early June, so no real distractions to prevent you from coming along and enjoying yourselves, Tamara has asked me if I'd like to play some "Psychedelic Stuff". Sounds like a good plan. Here's hoping... Anyway, there should be more details up on this Lamma site by now.

Speaking of 'delic delerium. I enjoyed the MAD Paint Party at 7venth Avenue last Saturday. Specifically, watching Bottom Dwellers live and kicking. I caught a hybrid version playing the Power Station Beach for Jessie's birthday party in early April. Part Bottom Dwellers and a smattering of Defiant Scum. Good sound and lights by Parksy. A decent bar and some Mad Hatter costumes. And a mystery UFO with red/green lights, hovering about 100 metres above the festivities. Probably a small drone cam operated by someone in Hung Shing Yeh.

Anyway there seemed to me to be a happy undercurrent lysergic buzz about the gig. The band were joyously ramshackle, yet loosely jamming. Tight like the early Warlocks used to be. They provided the soundtrack for the early Trips Festivals in western USA in late 1965/early 1966. Back when acid (LSD) was still legal. Thanks, Ken Kesey (rip), the rest of the Merry pranksters; Dr.Gonzo, aka T. H. Stockton (also rip, Suicide 20/2/2005); Stewart Brand, Tim Leary and his fellow East Coast fuddy duddies; Augustus Stanley Owsley III, aka "Bear", maker of the finest quality LSD known to man since Albert Hoffmann took his immortal bike ride through Basle in 1943. Acid and the atom bomb came älive" before the end of WW2. Meanwhile, Owsley "adopted" The Warlocks, built most of their equipment, supplied their internal inspiration and changed their name to The Grateful Dead. The First Summer of Love was coming.

Sorry, the coffee seems to be working overtime. Right, the band. In no particular order and combining both gigs they are. Richie on bass. Pete, acoustic guitar. Ben, the mighty (tiny) CHAOS machine. David on ukulele. Juan on decks. Aaron on keyboards and fellow jammees, Rose on flute and Rosemary on pi'pa. There are about 3-4 songs going on at any one time. At one point there's a fine mashup of meandering vocals for "Walk On The Wild Side" meets "Forever Young" jamming with "No Woman, No Cry" and tears are shed as you realise "You Can't Always Get What You Want". Plus a ramble through local favourite "Kowloon, Hong Kong". The The The "trips"magic comes from Ben manipulating the sound through the CHAOS machine. Vocals rise and fall. Soundbites are scattered and strewn throughout the set. Noises echo and swirl and distort and still the beat goes on.

The equipment is far better now. An entire studio can be more or less contained in a laptop, hell, even an IPOD. Techknowledgy rules. Still, there were some cool forerunners of Bottom Dwellers on Lamma in the early nineties. Does anyone else remember(?) attending a fancy dress party at Deep Water Bay Yacht Club. It was a trek and a trip to get there, but the results were day-glow brilliant. The music menu was composed and orchestrated and generally fucked up by random members of what became the groups, Ado (not Lamma based), Mothership and the dearly missed Adaptors. Kumi and her drums and a nascent Sisters of Sharon also high in the mix. I had some way cool buddies from the good ole USA staying with me and they were very friendly with the lysergo-chemists who kept the Grateful Dead train rolling and wobbling along its celestial orbit. Their largesse was generous indeed. And no one got hurt.

Other highlights of that time include some of the legendary teepee parties en route to Pak Kok. And a voodoo-riffic, swamp-a-delic purple haze inspired Halloween night at the Beach Hut in Lan Kwai Fong. Mad crowds though. Dangerous barricades, hemming people in. Weird hysteria and a rising panic as people strove to see other people dressed up in Halloween costumes. Lots of shoving and pushing. It led to the 1991 New Year's Day tragedy in Lan Kwai Fong where a dozen or so people died. I wasn't there. I'd already figured that Halloween night was a black shadow forecast of an upcoming tragedy. I was shocked, but not surprised it came exactly two months later.

Meanwhile, it's the end of April 2014 and Defiant Scum are opening for Canadian band DOA. Brought to you by the ever entertaining Songs For Children. Thanks, Mike and Jane. Another classy night. It's DOA's debut and swansong in HK. They're playing here and Beijing, Shanghai and Wuhan before returning to Canada and calling it a day. They've spent a couple of days relaxing on Lamma before their show at Backstage on 30/4/2014. Incidentally, they're the second hardcore/punk band to stay on Lamma. Fugazi were first. Brought here for a gig (which I missed. My fault. Circumstances occurred. I couldn't make the show) by Shazza Music, if memory serves.

Anyway, the band are Joe (founder member) on guitar and vox. Paddy, the newest member on drums and vox. Dirty Dan on seismic bass. And Abe, their friendly and capable fixer-upper and travel companion. Probably chief roadie too.
Their set varies. There's some ferocious 0ld Skool Stooges style riffs. Some thrilldrillspeed guitar. Barked vocals. Paddy bashes almost all of his drums to buggery and even sings "The Message" by Grandmaster Flash at one point, while Joe fixes his guitar. It's a shortish set, punctuated by much swearing as is vogue. DOA are delighted to be here. Everyone is thanked multiple times. The mosh pit is heaving. Exuberant, but not aggressive. Big belly slams to Richie, Moy, Luke (who thinks he may have broken his toe) and Canadian Dave. Big hug and kiss to Vlatka who always makes the good gigs and the gigs good.

Ooops, in keeping with the chronologically scrambled framework of this story, I now introduce you to Defiant Scum. They played a set that sounded like Doppler waves to me. Standing on a train platform, you'll hear the train coming along. Sort of a neee-yoo-hoop sound. Well, that's what Julian the drummer sounded like to me. Relentless and fast. Bang, bang, bang. Next song, song, song. Mozz is spitting out the vocals. More angry rant than sweet falsetto sugarvox. Pierre is the heart of the sound system. Great riffs anchoring the tunes and breaking free in flurrys of scuzzy note and bits of drony feedback. Or maybe that was just me. And a special tip to Pierre, the stand in bassist for the night. Slotted in perfectly. Most of the set was original, but there were also two covers. "I Don't Care" by Antitdote and "Someone's Gonna Die" by The Blitz. Punky thrash Nirvana is achieved.

One last note to finish. Commiserations to DOA on the recent death of your former guitarist Dave Gregg (1960-2014) I saw the item in Uncut"s June issue. Twice. A remembrance by Bob Mould (ex-Husker Du and Sugar) and the obit at the back. Uncut says Dave's "drillhammer riffs provided DOA with much of their fearsome reputation. He was a kinetic presence in the Vancouver hardcore band during the 80s. Especially the Hardcore 81 tour which is regarded as a template for this stuff". Thanks Uncut and RIP Dave. This is the end for now so happy trails until we meet again. ntbin

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Open Space concert, Sat, May 31, 2014 - by Nick the Bookman

Well, I feel that it's going to be another brilliant Saturday night up at Open Space. Running the gamut from the sublime to the ridiculous. Let's start with the sublime. Tamara has arranged a Night of Indian Classical Music. A huge dollop of culture for Lamma's musically inclined masses. And it is a sweaty trek up the hill to Open Space. At least for me, laden down with two bags of CD's. Jim has kindly invited me to do a spot of DJing after the concert is over. And then he'll take over and deliver a stunning masterclass in how to do it right.

The show starts about 2045. The dynamic duo are Kamran on tablas and Amil Singh on sitar. The pair of them have been playing together for about three years and have done other shows on Lamma and elsewhere. There are about 30 or so fans ready, waiting and hot to trot and to flop down on the cushions and bliss out. Might be slightly harder than usual as there is a temporary ban on drinks for the duration of the show. Getting the vibe right, so to speak.

The two gentlemen play a set of four short improvised pieces lasting a little over an hour. Their interplay is mesmerising. Kamran lays down a solid, rhythmically intricate pattern of of finger drum beats. Tempo and volume rising and falling. Almost a Doppler effect as his fingertips blur into near invisibility, but the sound is crystal clear. Plus big "boomy-bongy" bass notes out of the bottom of his tabla. Amil weaves his sensuous, swoony Sitar melodies in and out of the mix. Now leading. Now falling back into the mix. Half the audience is recumbent. Supine. On the verge of trance sleep, No one is talking. Except me, Richie (bass player for Bottom Dwellers) and Parksy. We're inside having a whispery natter about this and that. And of course imbibing all the drinks for everyone else.

Amil, who tells me he's a fourth generation relation of Ravi Shankar, says the pieces have no real titles. But they're classical evening ragas, being that it's night time. As I said, the sound is stupendous. Reminds me of the famous story of Ravi Shankar playing at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. He and his bandmates came on, strummed for about ten minutes or so and received a standing ovation from the audience. He then told them thanks, but that was just the tuning up so if you liked that, wait until we get started... Similar awe inspiring vibe tonight. If you want to know more, please contact Amil at amilshri_sitar@hotmail.com. He'll be happy to give you the lowdown. To me, it was a jam session of the Indian Gods. And a hard act to follow.

But I try. I told Jim I'd keep in the vibe of the concert and gradually build my set up. So, opening track is by Zakir Khan (tabla player) doing a sort of cross-culture Indian/Gamelan fantasy trip. Then German world trio Dissidenten doing "Love Supreme" by John Coltrane. Then a sitar intro mix leading into immense psychedelic guitar solos by the Electric Prunes (2002). Then I sort of retreated back to the Seventies with lengthy blasts of Hot Tuna, Quicksilver Messenger Service, The Outlaws. About 20 minutes of live Midnight Oil (because I got my CD running order mixed up. Finished with a touch of Dead Kennedys, just for Richie and a smattering of dub stuff to bring this wonderful audience back to Tomorrowland. It's midnight and my work is over.

Jim is a revelation to watch and listen to. He's truly world class. Along with DJ Nipper. I think we're privileged to have them both living on Lamma. He's using electronic CD decks, linked or mapped to two virtual decks on his laptop. Along with a huge menu of assorted songs/tunes to dice/splice/cut-up/loop etc. A colourful 21st Century blast of global psychedelia. Not even two unscheduled electricity failures dampen the enthusiasm of the crowd and the joy of his mixes.

Also high praise to Jake who asked to do a set. Jake's set was a little more kosmisch. Lots of rockets taking off style whooshy sounds doubling as the breakdowns before the drums kicked back in. Not quite as sonically adventurous as Jim, but Jake was the away team using the home side equipment and his 45 minutes or so is well received. About 0400, I think I'm starting to feel knackered, so it's time to go home. Welcome to the ridiculous part of the night.

The walk home for me is terrifying. I've lost my torch and about 50 yards down the path I'm reduced to a speed of inches per hour. It's a "starless and bible-black" night and I can't see the path. I recently twisted my right ankle quite badly and it's affecting my weaker right knee. I'm carrying my glasses because the lenses are prone to pop out every now and then and I don't want to lose them on the path. I'm hunched over like the old hermit on the cover of Led Zeppelin IV. Using my CD bags as a sort of cane to probe the edges of the path so I don't topple over. And on the bumpy bits I'm basically sitting on my arse hunchy-humping and scootching down the path at an even slower rate of progress. Get a very wet bottom. While pulling my bags behind me...

Then, one of the CD bags topples over and about 20 CD's spill out on the path. Into the darkness. I scrabble around and manage to find them all. All the time, fighting off swarms of bloodthirsty mozzies. Skritch, skritch, curse, blaspheme, wobble, mutter, grunt etc. Then the rain sort of starts. I'm near the bridge at this point. My plan is to go left and down the waffle pattern part of the Cable Road until I come down by the tennis court and I'm basically home. Like all great plans, it deteriorates into an unholy nightmare. I've missed the Gravity Pockets, but get trapped in an as yet undiscovered Amnesia Bubble. Or a Teleportation Hot-Spot. I come to and find myself on the Cable Road leading to the Church, School and Fire Station and all I know is that I didn't go under the FUCKING bridge. If I had, I would have asked Anthony Kiedis (Red Hot Chili Peppers voxman) for assistance.

Eventually after about 45 minutes I get home safely. I've got this quote about "Coming events cast their shadows before them" echoing-ing-ing inside my head-ead-ed. Not that I could see any shadows. Well, of course I could. Everything was Shadow. But not individual. My coming event will be me ten years down the line. Lame, halt and blind. And that was a scary motherfucker of a vision. Still, I survived alone to tell the tale. Can't wait for the next Open Space gig, Tamara and Jim. Thanks again for indulging me. Long may you rock and roll and run. ntb

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Click here for Lamma-zine stories and recent Lamma Spotlights of the Week:
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Click here for Lamma-zine stories and recent Lamma Spotlights of the Week:
Photo, Video, Person, Wildlife, Bird, Artwork.