Album Release Party – 24.10.2009

geschrieben von dave am 4. November 2009
Kategorie: Blog, gigs

Friends. If you were there, on the evening of October the 24th, 2009, then you need not read this note. You can probably remember the evening that we shared. For those of you who were not able to be present at Spurv Laerke’s Debut Record Release Celebration, in the Schlachthof in Wiesbaden, there is unfortunately little I can say that would capture the magic we all surely felt. However, I will do my best, to impart some small impression of this unique evening:

At 1800 hours on that Saturday the sun was swallowed in one gulp by thick, greasy clouds that slid down the wilting Taunus towards the Rhein, bringing with them a chilled drizzle that hung nervously in the air, not knowing in which direction to fall. A faint, orange glow from a window of the schlachthof was to be seen in the growing darkness; (zoom slowly in). Inside the räucherkammer the hurried sounds of muffled, shuffling feet and the hiss of lung-fulls of moist air expelled through tightly pursed lips into tensely expanding balloons layered into friction, heating the atmosphere under the low, curved, brick ceiling of the chamber. Balloons, in every color of the rainbow, were inflated to capacity and taped to the ceiling beams where they quivered nervously. Some rolled idly like tumbleweeds in silent swirls on the sticky floor.

“Is there any more fabric?!”, bellowed Rob, breaking the taut silence. The balloons quivered and Dave started, slightly alarmed at the sudden sound. Brow furrowed and eyes rapidly blinking he responded only with a nod towards the merch table, unable to bring his thoughts far enough away from trouble shooting his D.I. boxes to form words.

Meanwhile, Malte (who actually had the rest of the fabric that Rob was looking for) was slowly, and with seemingly great satisfaction gift-wrapping the stack of empty beer crates that stood beside his keyboard stand. “Save some for Peter”, Dave then suggested to Malte, who didn’t look up from his delicate task.

The evening plunged onward with the unbridled elasticity of a cosmic snail drilling at warp speed through a swimming pool of tapioca pudding. As the third or fourth round of “Where’s Nik?” commenced, Kristina began her pre-show convulsions, limbs and hair flying in all directions, eyes closed and murmuring on repeat some half-intelligible incantation, quite possibly in Danish.

The clock pushed onward. Nik showed up just in time to report to Valerian, that it was in fact the red flower under the dog, song # 8….. # 8, the red flower under the dog.

“Ok, it’s time…”

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catch a special glimps here: media

all photos: Henning Stephan