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Lamma Fun Day 22/11/2009
by Nick the Bookman
Why is the NBC News at 0730 each morning so appallingly banal? Most of the time it's bad infotainment stories. The rest of the world barely gets a mention unless Barack Obama, the Procrastinator-In-Chief has some twee pontification to make. I mean, he started well, but hasn't done anything concrete yet. Like shooting all the top BushReichers, bankers and financiers for treason - profiting during wartime. Or earning his Nobel Peace Prize. Or closing Guantanamo. Or firebombing all the Afghan poppy fields to eradicate funding for narco-terrorism, which fuels the ongoing war. I mean CCTV has the gravitas of the BBC compared to the parochial American networks. Still, at least ABC, CBS and NBC are insipidly polite. Unlike Fox whose commentators I keep hoping will bite themselves and die venomously. After infecting Rupert, of course. But I digress...
The only good factual news I caught on CCTV (on TVB) was the weather report. A sunny/cloudy day. Temperatures between 13-19 Celsius. 63% humidity. Just what the Tenth edition of Lamma Fun Day needs. The bands are supposed to start about 1430, which is when I intend to get to Power Station Beach.
Steve Cray has ambled past my bookshelf on his way for "a hair of the dog" after toasting Jenkin's memory up and down YSW the night before. He hopes Red Star Rising will take the stage about 1930 and promises to unleash the 20' version of "Shopping Malls" as a set highlight. "Just for me". Thanks, Steve. I'm feverish already with anticipation. Unless Lamma Time unfolds and thoroughly Screws The Pooch. That was how the Mercury-7 astronauts vividly described a complete cock-up.
Bobsy wandered by as I was about to close up and told me that rumour has it that I am going to be shaved today, thereby helping to swell the Charity coffers by up to $100 K. News to me. I've arrived at PSB about 1500. Bobsy, the "urban cowboy", as someone describes him, is playing some fine world beat music, mixed with frantic electric organ swells. Unfolding at a dubby pace. Jim and Les (alphabetical order) who are Lamma's own Del-Boy and Rodney, are going through their schtick on the sturdy stage, constructed by Sean and the boys on Saturday.
There are two small(ish) launches off shore. Two volleyball charity matches are underway, the competitors feverishly unaware of anything else. The usual stalls, selling art, books, music and movies, bric-a-brac, Lamma homeotherapy treatments, old clothes and especially food and drink. And drink. All set up along the Power Station Road. Meanwhile, the Porta-loos are doing a frisky-brisk turnover in all matters faecal.
J&L are thanking almost everyone who has existed/exists/will exist in the Space Time Continuum. Except me, your very 'eavy, very 'umble scribe. There's "a big dib-dib-dib, dob-dob-dob for the Scouts. Parksy, for doing all the electronics". All the volunteers for helping out. The people doing the charity sales. All between bellows of "Sharon" and "We need beer". Now, they're exhorting the punters to "check out this new band. A local band, a bit like New Order". The quartet are called Twisterella and hail from the New Territories. Grahame has joined me and Annapurna at stage front to enjoy the vibes. He's not taking photos today. Better, hurry up and get here, Lamma-Gung!
Twisterella are Vox & keyboard: Keik (the only lady). Guitar: Chi Wai (wearing a cool New Order Ceremony tee-shirt). Bass: Sammer. Drums: Joe. Space mellow sounds with a New Order/Joy Division insistent rhythm. The mini-Korg keyboard emits fine space whispers and oscillations. Part prime time Hawkwind. Part BBC Radiophonic Workshop. Chi Wai plays some fine cyber-twangy notes, reminiscent of The Chameleons with a pop sensibility of The Bangles. The drums are upfront at times and slower as the song demands. They do the simple things right and seem to gain in confidence as their short 5-song set continues. The vocals aren't too strong, but somehow enchanting. A muted All About Eve perhaps. I'm a fan of this space mellow/new wave genre of music. Some of the electronic sounds are more alluring than on the new Space Rock cover CD I got with the latest issue of Classic Rock. I'll be looking out for future shows by Twisterella. They can only get better.
J&L are doing The Auction. Part One. A Dymock's book voucher worth $1000 is the first lot. Bidding starts at $100 and goes up in $100 increments. Eventually snapped up by Heather for $850. A Pizza Express Party for ten kids (age limit not mentioned) is the second lot. It's worth $2000. Bids start at $500 and Michael snaffles it for a mere $750. Natalie continues this trend by getting a $600 aromatherapy treatment for $500. She doubles up by paying $650 for $1000 worth of meals at Nepal restaurant. And speaking of food, it's Lamma's very own ska/reggae ensemble, Transnoodle. They're on stage and about to sing their eponymous hit about the delights of a dodgy takeaway.
Some changes in line-up today. John is ever-present on guitar and vox. Matt is back on the Ax-Synth keyboard. Magnus on drums. Orlando on trombone. All present and correct from Dickstock. The Koya clone has been replaced by Kevin (ex-Nude). Sarah's back with her saucy saxophone. And Barnaby's ended his brief sabbatical to return on congas and percussion. The spicy septet are smoking hot. All the old favourites are overdone to sizzly perfection. I've gone walkabout and have missed the close up interplay. But I can say they're audible at the far end of the beach.
Roz has sold some of her excellent paintings. Her upstairs neighbours, Tom and Kim, are here from Macau with their hirsute pals, Mike and Randy. Nice to meet you, gents. Tom and Adele are drinking and relaxing with friends on the beach. Lamma-Gung has arrived and is snapping away at a furiously professional rate. The running gag of the day is trying to spot the undercover cops. The highest guesstimate is about 20%, including dogs.
Dougie is on stage with J&L and he's bigging me up something rotten. His nose should dwarf Pinocchio's by now after telling the SpaceTime Continuum that "next year, Nick the Book says he's cutting the beard". Les chips in with "maybe worth about 100 grand". This despite frantic gestures of denial from me. I thought we went through this when Bobsy got shaved. I said I'd do it if we can raise about $10 million with a year long global virtual campaign. Webcam daily update. Trusty e-account for people to pay money in. Say US$1 per click times 10 million clicks and a world wide Lamma party for the tenth anniversary of Fun Day next year. Think BIG, people.
Oh, yeah. I want some of the dibs as well. Enough to own a flat and cover future medical bills. No one believed me. They thought the scheme is probably a (hash)pipe dream. I'm not entirely opposed to the idea, but what am I going to do with my two extra days each year from not shaving? Aside from not shaving some more. That's not an open invitation to be swamped with ribald and risque remarks. Still, the tenth, eh? I'll be reasonable. Have your agents call my dogs. We'll do breakfast, lunch and dinner together, as Steve Martin eloquently put it in one of his less objectionable "comedies".
The second guest band of the LFD is a mighty quartet called Quasar. Have no idea what part of the astral, electromagnetic spectrum they hail from. They know how to play their two guitars, bass and drums and sing up a storm, though. Their set starts off like the Bon Jovi section of the days. Cross-bred with some fiery REO Speedwagon sonic workouts. Back when The REO's were good and not wimpy balladeers, bloating up the higher levels of the Billboard Charts. Having aseptic chats about possibly thinking about possibly dreaming about possibly thinking and dreaming about running their fingers through the tangled locks of 80's hair disasters like Babs, and Celine and oh god.... (sorry, had to go delete my forebrain to stop it manufacturing such puerile dross.) OK, back on track.
Quasar are brilliant. They can carry the songs, do the big anthemic finishes that leave you wanting more. Parksy thinks that one track is a fine tribute to vintage Wishbone Ash ("Warrior", "Throw Down The Sword" "The King Will Come" etc). Can't disagree. Bastard! Wish I'd thought of it first. One-nil Parksy in erudite musical arcana. The best I could come up with is some of the guitar interplay is a bit like early Dire Straits meets Swedish psychedelicists, Soundtrack Of Our Lives. With a dash of Americana on top. Let it sizzle and burn, baby, burn. Alexander Bedwell is the mighty drummer and bendy Ben Bair on bruising bass, plus Sanjeev Gurung, Vocalist/Guitarist, and Sarad Shrestha on Lead Guitar.
More auction action from an increasingly hoarse-sounding J&L. Sheila snaffles up a Cirque du Soleil packet of two tickets and backstage passes. Worth $1500, it goes for $1600 and a cry of "good on yer, girl". The only item that goes above face value, so maybe not so good on yer, girl if you're fiscally abstemious in the aftermath of the Great Depression of 2008, organised by the slime moulds who run Bilderberg and the Trilateral Commission. See a documentary on the web called "The Obama Deception" for an alternative take on who's ruling who. Oz is cracking out the unsettling acid jazzy sounds on stage as a wonderful photo of the HK Skyline at Night is sold. Sean Bayliss took the photo, worth $30,000. It goes for $5000. He doesn't mind. Someone got a bargain. Justin, the drummer, buys an $800 tattoo package from Joanne and Blue Tongue for $700. Then, Lamma Time intrudes....
An original Harry Harrison cartoon of blind justice in Burma is up for grabs. It's in an 18 by 12 frame. It's autographed by Harry. He's also thrown in a free caricature of the lucky future owner. Bidding starts at $2000. Goes up by $100. Cricket-mad Brad calls from Oz. I've missed something here, but Les says the price is $3500. Jim is shushing the crowd so Les can hear Brad on the mobile. Obviously. I mean, there's no hanky-panky here. Not from Lamma's own Trotter (un)Twins!. Brad beats out all the other (non)buyers and gets the picture for $4500. Well played, mate. It's probably less than what you spent on international, transequatorial "Hold" anyway. Bobsy wins three luxury nights in Fuck-It, Thighland. He pays $14,500 for a package worth $15,800. Should break even if he walks on the water to get there. Finally, Doggie calls from the New Forest to say "hooray for everyone there". Probably cheaper to text message. He hopes to return for the 10th Anniversary of his creation.
The dynamic thrashacidfolkies Of Moths And Stars are up next. Lamma time is playing havoc with the running order. Chris on vocals and acoustic guitar. Nate on vocals and tambourine. It's their Lamma debut, after wowing me at Clockenflap two weeks earlier. A few sound problems are soon sorted and they strum into action at 150 chords a second. It's the same set they played at Clockenflap. Nate is a less spastic dancer than Ian "Monkey" Brown, the ex-Stone Roses singer who achieved never to be surpassed levels of tonal torture at Rock-It #4 in 2006. Nate, and Chris, who performs in some type of Japanese animation hero mask for the first two songs, can harmonise together. Quite well, actually. I close my eyes and am thinking of Dr. Strangely Strange, Kaleidoscope and bits of The Incredible String Band. Nate's dad, Stefan(?) is up from Malaysia to see this debut. He's an old ISB fan from the start.
Twilight is upon us. No New Moon yet. No abstemious, pallid-Goth vampires and hunky teen werewolves either. But there are a bunch of Curs ready to piss on the stage and stake out their territory. It's about 1942 and Steve Cray and Red Star Rising have arrived, hoping to start their set on time. They're gonna have to wait at least an hour. The Curs are ready for a reprise of Dickstock. There's John and Harry on vox and guitars. Gareth on bass. Magnus back on drums. Davy, still on the fiddle and Roy Stark on his spanking new Dobro. I didn't realise Roy was here at all. Must have taken a shortcut through the Twilight Zone interchange with Dimension X and magically appeared on stage.
"Gimme an "L". ("L"). Gimme an "A". ("A"). Gimme an "M". ("M"). Gimme a "P". ("P"). What's that spell?" And it's the "Fixing-To-Die Rag" done in inimitable, inebriated Lamma style by John. The song is mangled through to its conclusion. In a good way, of course. Harry then one-ups John with "Gimme a "P". ("P"). Gimme an "X". ("X"). Gimme a "U". ("U"). Gimme a "Z". ("Z"). What's that...". Followed by total confusion from the audience. Harry adds that "It's a new set. We'll just play the songs in a different order". This is too mind-bendingly cosmic for me right now. Besides, it's cold, dark and I'm hungry. I don't know if Red Star Rising are going to play. Most of the crowd is gone. So am I. "This is The End, my wayward friends..."
Actually, it isn't. Red Star Rising do play at about 2100 hours. No idea if they performed the 20 minute version of "Shopping Malls". The party ends about 0200 the following morning. People have to stay at the beach to safeguard the equipment. Everything is put away by Monday afternoon.
I heard a Chinese whisper of sorts that Parksy and Sean may have lost a bit of money in staging this event. But, you know how these whispers go. I may have got it wrong. I heard reports that the LFD raised between $960,000 and $1.2 million, a cumulative total for the past ten years. I heard people on the stalls paid $250 for their space and kept their profits. If Parksy and Sean did lose out, then at least make sure they break even. Some costs may have been higher than quoted. It's good that the Nepalese children get our help. But also consider, Charity Begins At Home and Don't Bind The Mouths Of The Kine. I'm not trying to cause a ruckus, but a quiet discussion to see if the facts are yea or nay.
Thank you for letting me let you know how much fun I had. When's the next gig?
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