A while back E and I were on the Boat, just having a few drinks with friends, when suddenly we found our feet tapping and heads bobbing. Soon the drinks were dropped, the sweaters tossed in a corner and we were full on rocking out to some jazzy, disco-y, funky music, with a singer that just made you remember what the hell singing is supposed to be about in a club.

The next day, we found out this was the Singas Project. “Sin gas” is Spanish for “without pop” - meaning this was no teenie-bopper-friendly BS, but some soulful dance-jazz that we found ourselves immediately enamored with. Check out the below video (be patient with the crowd chatting at the beginning) and let me know if you want their album - I’d be happy to buy it and ship it to you, because I think they’re that cool.

At last, a trailer for the incredible film my buddy Peter has been working on. Looks fantastic!

Tonight (Tuesday) I will once again be the guest on Radio Café’s “Legal Alien” radio show, one of the only English-language talk shows in the country. If you want to listen via the web, go to the following link and click on “Gyertek hallgassátok online!” and then look for the English explanation.

Link (scroll down a bit for English instructions)

The show starts at 8 p.m. here in Hungary, so that would be 2 p.m. east coast time, 11 a.m. west coast time, and 4 a.m. Japan time. Gomen nasai!

From left: Def Selector, Uncle ?uesto, E-Star

Hu-ha, we had fun at the VOLT Festival! E had the crazy fresh hook-up and we got to meet THE ROOTS! Well, actually just ?uestlove, the drummer and usual spokesperson, about their first show in Hungary. We were actually on double duty, as in addition to the interview, we were supposed to get some pictures and sound bites about “festival fashion”. Here are some pics from the event.

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I’ve added a whole bunch of new graffiti pictures to my galleries. A new gallery documents a recent graffiti, breakdancing, and human beatbox championship called Write4Gold, held at Moka Cukka in northern Budapest. Underground stars Dilated Peoples (warning: myspace link) played the after party. There are also a bunch of new pieces on the permission wall leading up to the venue. Check back soon for more graf pics, because I’ve seen some new murals over at Tuz Tate, formerly known as Tuzrakter.

Check out the main gallery HERE, and Write4Gold HERE.

Saw a great brass/combination band from France last night at Trafó called CQMD. The line up is comprised of two percussionists, both of whom carry their drums, marching band style, three horn players (tuba, trombone, trumpet) and a banjo. They rocked it, bringing a combination of lively brass band funk that gets your feet jumping and head bopping to the stage and with the addition of the banjo and amplification to give it more musical texture and creativity. From my very limited experience with new-school brass bands, which are the hippest thing to hit the U.S. in years, I could see that this one had roots in the outdoor, unamplified, party band area, then progressed to a more musical, staged act. They still came down into the crowd to mix it up, which is a trademark of the style, and the Hungarians loved it.

Check this out: the concert of my DREAMS, basically every single artist I would ever want to see, in one place, on one day, will happen this July 28-29 in New York. It’s Rock the Bells.

Apparently the original one-date show sold out in 20 minutes, prompting the organization of a second show, which went on sale today at 4pm Hungary time and are probably already sold out. Despite the $100 ticket price ($83+ an unbelieveable $17 ticketmaster surcharge), I actually checked airfares - unfortunately in the $700/person range. I think if I’d found anything for less than five-hundred I would seriously consider going. This is like the Woodstock of hip-hop.

A small consolation was that I also saw that the Roots will be playing in Hungary at the reportedly lame-o Volt Festival this summer. The Sziget Festival is also shaping up to be a bit on the weak side, leaning way too far towards washed-up or second-tier rock acts than anything contemporary. But I guess this is the price we pay for being a small, quiet country with no terrorists or crazy people shooting each other.

Folkdancehall

the first poems ever
are the words to songs sung
by people at dances
and I was there with my Mama

in a different world within the one we dwelt
in suburban Budapest in early 1980s of
my early childhood years
concrete council blocks and communal dancing
houses

yes there they sang we sang
folk of high rise evenings me with them
winding through the dancing hall

and there was Mr Sebő like a Homer
wearing his Health Service prescription specs
he played on contra-fiddle and the hurdy-gurdy
and crowds stepped to the ancient dance recalled
rocking floorboards clapping calls and calls
I called and stepped the steps and danced

alive with no signs of traditionalism
requiring not at all to be explained
the words were songs the people chanted as we danced
our first poems were lively warm and fun

I know now how it was a movement nationwide
that folk bands dancers halls communities thrived on
and beside traditional songs Hungarian poetry
from times historic to contemporaries was embraced
and sung

lard and onion and pickles on bread and jaffa orange squash
served to refresh spiritual Hungry everyone
the dancers and all those who watched and
sat and stood around and wound the strand
of conversation spun here lighter and here thick and grave
as slurred

as the tune was as the hours progressed
matched masterfully to the lurching of the crowd
we danced what we could ultimately
disoriented as fiddlesticks

-Dániel Dányi

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A long time ago, perhaps the 4th century,
There lived a figure, now most legendary.
While the history itself is mostly unclear,
He was the inspiration, for lovers most dear.

A martyr unlike those, we now see in the news,
He mostly kept Romans awake in the pews.
His crime was to marry, those both earnest and just,
Against the wishes of Emperor Claudius.

Alternatively, as the story professes,
He restored the sight of his jailor’s most precious.
This gift of pure love, in his last moments alive,
Became the legacy of Saint Valentine.

Sir Geoffrey Chaucer, a millennium later,
Made Valentine’s love official, putting pen to the paper.
In accordance with women, were the laws of courtship conceived,
In a High Court of Love; judges chosen by poem-reads.

Then came a time, when free-love was the way,
But vanished in the smoke of the hippie hey-days.
Now all that will work, to get a little neck with her,
Is an SUV trip, to the nearest confectioner.

Shower her in chocolate, until her defenses break down,
She’d taste good at least, drenched quite in dark brown.
Bring out the roses, perfumes and parfait,
So that we might smell nice, at least for one day.

Enough is never enough, in terms of her worth,
So prove it, you dunce, until your wallet hurts!
Run all over town- hither, thither and thee.
Purchase her diamonds and pearls, hopefully conflict-free.

All over the world, sorry shmoe’s do the same,
Lest not le jour end up “Singles’ Awareness Day”.
In Japan, however, the hardest put are the dames,
To all – including their boss – they must give gifts away.

Draw up a verse, put it to paper or bark,
If you’re stuck for a rhyme, there’s always Hallmark.
Go on a quest for the keys, to her chastity locks,
Or you can just make like JT, and put your ______ in a box.

Here in Hungary for sure, where chivalry still reigns,
You’ll catch many a fíu going to great pains.
To convince his dear love, with hair of magenta,
That in truth he does love, her paprikash polenta.

The lányok, for their part, go to lengths great and tall,
To spend hubby’s dough, on stringy things at the mall.
What’s an eyebrow’s intention, if not to get plucked,
What’s a good boy’s reward, if not to get _________.

Nowadays all is fair, in love and in war,
In our heads we are rich, and in heart we are poor.
But comes a time, ev’ry February fourteen,
To show our beloved, how much they really do mean.

So put on a show, make this day really count,
Take her out on the town, max out every account.
Put all else aside, except thoughts of true bliss,
And say to her softly: “I love you Dear Miss.”

Tonight (Tuesday) I will be the guest on Radio Café’s “Legal Alien” radio show (irony noted), probably the only English-language talk show in the country. If you want to listen via the web, go to the following link and click on “Gyertek hallgassátok online!” and then look for the English explanation. 

Link

The show starts at 8 p.m. here in Hungary, so that would be 2 p.m. east coast time, 11 a.m. west coast time, and 4 a.m. Japan time. Gomen nasai!

*UPDATE* - If you missed the live broadcast of the show, I have uploaded the recording of it in mp3 format. Click on the following links to hear the show. You will need speakers/headphones and a media player to hear the files (doye).

Section 1 - (5:32, 5Mb)
Section 2 - (10:20, 10Mb)
Section 3 - (12:14, 11Mb)

This Halloween I decided to get a little bit ambitious and build my costume. As a regular reader of the Make Blog, I came across this site, and, being in Hungary and all, instantly knew the costume that would a) fulfill my creative impulse, b) be something that no one else would even think of doing, and c) endear me to any Hungarian that saw me in it. They don’t even celebrate Halloween here anyway, but because I work at a tourist magazine, we (well, I) had the idea of throwing a big party. This is the process and results.

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Just spent the evening at the Hungarian National Breakdance Championships. Teams from all over the country came and battled it out at the Nagycirkusz, or “big circus” to some hot beats (although the star wars break was conspicuously absent). There was also a lot of assorted entertainment, from a guy dressed up as a robot doing, you guessed it, the robot, to a exhibition by the first Hungarian b-boys ever to a head-spinning competition. The winner did 65 rotations. That’s about a full minute of spinning on your head. Even the judges performed, the best of whom was an Italian named Cico who had a scary mullet, but he rocked. Check this video for a taste of mullet power!

Overall, these guys (and one girl) were dope. It’s too bad I didn’t have my camera and a press pass.

Peep the website for the event here. (In Hungarian, but click around to find pictures and stuff)

Although in blog-time it’s only been a few entries, it had been a long time since we’d been out dancing.  Last night we saw the brilliant duo of multi-instrumental wizard Shri and Bhangra breakbeat specialist DJ Badmarsh.  Before I explain any further, let it be said that if you get the chance, see this act!

Check background info here.

Shri, alternating between a custom-designed wooden electric bass, a flute, the tablas which made him famous, as well as contributing beat-box vocals, heads a band of talented musicians including a bizarre lead male vocalist, a punk-rock worthy drummer, and various others.  Add to this the background-setting mix by DJ Badmarsh (although regrettably, no scratching) and it was an uplifting and happy jam of sounds that forced your body to move.  The music ranged from trip-hoppy vibes with that characteristic Indian female vocalism to funky jazz improvisation to hard-charging punk rock.  Highlights included a drummer vs. slap-bass battle, flute-beat-boxing, and trance-like harmonies.  If there was anything that detracted from the show, it was the artists’ constant CD sales push, even after the encore had ended.  But I’m sure it would have been worth it.

Bounced around last night to the sounds of old-school junglist Gavin King (aka Aphrodite) at hipster hot-spot Tuzrakter.  Although I was never more than a dabbler in the rave scene, the abundance of post-adolecsent crackheads still getting down after what, 10+ years of this stuff was enough to make me glad I never rolled too deep with the homies.  But the scene itself was authentic -sweaty, smoky and swinging- and brought back (good?) memories.

A word about the music itself: Aphrodite’s sound hasn’t changed a bit since he blew up in ‘95- it’s still hip-hop and ragga samples over rat-a-tat-tat beats and nimble basslines.  He even played some of those old classics like the Ready or Not remix and Western, plus of course the title of this post, much to the crowd’s pleasure (the “I got five on it” remix would have been a little too much to ask for however).  There was a day (and there sometimes still are) when I envisioned the rock-star life of being “just” a DJ, but when I see some of these guys who are my real favorites, I think again.  They’re just all a bunch of 40-ish overweight white dudes with a ciggy hanging out the side of their mouths and a beer wedged between the Mark V’s and the CD-J who look like their main profession is riding around in red convertibles in Ibiza chasing underage European girls.  Why that sounds negative I can’t exactly say. Maybe I’m getting old.

Some of the first pictures from the Trinity International Hip Hop Festival have been posted online and they look great.  They could use some SERIOUS editing though.

Check them out HERE.

From left: the author, Geology, Greg Nice, Sadat-X

Saw the above hip-hoppers downstairs at Trafo on a Wednesday and nearly died of suffocation it was so packed.  I hate to say it, but I’m starting to feel like I’m too old for the pushing and shoving.  I can’t go to a party unless I know it’s going to be perfect- hot beats, respectful crowd, cheap drinks, no entry BS, good sound quality and multiple rooms for partying and chilling.  However, one thing I love about seeing shows in a foreign country is that the artists are almost always down to talk with the crowd and sign autographs and stuff.  I’ve seen artists in Japan and Hungary (that would normally be mobbed senseless in the states or UK) just having a drink and chatting after the show ends.  That’s how it should be; these people aren’t aliens.  Anyways, other than the negative space available for dancing, we had a good time.  Puszi to Zsuzsa for the pic.

Saw this cute little groupie, so I took her home.  What what!

Home for the holidays
can’t stop from calling back to yesterdays
broke out force of habit
drove the roads dag nabbit.

Define mind games
like putting pictures in the picture frames
welcome matte black or silver flash
no matter depth of field he’s still behind the glass.

Bounce around the perimeter
see streets and trees similar
messy like a toy hand
and hit once like a boy band.

Your old homies houses
around town surroundless
now look like dungeons
built for dangerous mouses.

Spent about an hour gettin through it
get home to know to do it
don’t check the e-mail
throw your mind off the whole trail.

It’s not a letter from the mailman
in fact she known to hold a frail hand
home is where the heart go
stay steady like a snail stands.