Saturday, August 29, 2009

Berlin: Rusko

Today I said my fond farewells to MacGuyver. She's (yes, she's a female bike named MacGuyver) served me well over the past few days. Rode over to Christine's and locked MacGuyver up out front. Riding around Berlin has made me think I should ride more at home. Although Berlin is pretty much completely flat, which makes riding a nike a breeze compared to riding around Sydney. Kicked back for the rest of the day. Packed my shit and sent a bunch of parcels home. DHL is fucking exy so my advice is don't sent anything to Australia from Germany. Even stamps to Australia are 1 EUR each. I think I'm going to have to curb my buy-and-send-home idea. It's just too exy. Had a nap. Woke up, got ready, and headed to Alexander Platz for the Wood Wood/Parra pop shop opening. Unfortunately I got the dates mixed up, and the opening is tomorrow night. This is the first so far I've gotten a date mixed up. Touch wood it won't happen again.

This leaves me in a bit of a pickle. It's 9pm, and Icon doesn't open until 11.30pm. So I go catch the train towards Icon anyway. You see some weird shit on the trains here. Dogs, cats, socks and sandals - but tonight I have to give kudos to a dude who was co-ordinated enough to take his bike and a brand-new-in-the-box 24" monitor on the train. I get to my stop and I wander around a bit looking for something to eat. Found a cute cafe and sat outside in the sidewalk seating. So euro. And it's quite a balmy evening. Treated myself to a steak and a Gin Fizz (because it's cocktail hour). The meal is sure to protect me from getting to drunk or being hung over. Either that or I'll be seeing my meal again in a few hours. My food arrives, and the serving is huge. It has it all - steak, pasta, bread, roasted veges and salad. Eat slowly, EAT SLOWLY! I always guzzle my food. If I eat at my normal pace, I'll end up asleep in the park across the road from Icon. Need to eat at Glenn pace (Hi Glenn!). Nope, can't do it. Finished in under 15 minutes (not that I could eat it all). Which means I still have more than an hour to wait before the club opens. Time to booze and muse.

Then I found this weird shit in the ladies toilets:
Seeing Rusko again is fraught with mixed emotions. He's one of my favourite DJ/Producers, and the last time I saw him is one of my all-time favourite gigs. So the anticipation of what tonight will be like has been killing me. But I've wondered if that night was made so great because my wingman Ki Ki was with me. Which makes me wish Ki Ki was here to elbow all the dumb bitches of the podium. Another quite emotional factor is a chain of events that began unfolding the week after I saw Rusko earlier this year. And some how I've tied those events to that Rusko gig. Hate to get all airy fairy, but I feel like seeing Rusko again is the whole thing coming full circle. Closure if you will. And let's not forget that seeing Rusko is the climax of my time in Berlin - which has been unbelievable. End rant.

This Gin Fizz is going down like a nightmare. Germans seem to put a lot more alcohol in their drinks than we do at home. Damn you RSA. ome Germans have freak deep voices. And my gaydar is completely off here. Gay dudes look straight, and straight dudes look gay. Free postcards are awesome. I just found one with a picture of a carrot that has a dick. I wonder which one of my lucky friends will be sent this piece of vegetative genius? I just found an offie that sells grapefruit beer. This shit is delicious. White beer or something. They start to taste a bit gross after 2. I'm seriously in bandaid hell right now. I can not for the life of me get bandaids to stick to me. I'm on my second set of bandaids (for blisters) for the night. If I have to go to round 3, I'm gonna get K.O.'d cos I'm running low. 20 minutes until Icon opens. People here seem to line up hellz early and I can't be sure how many peeps will come tonight. I wonder what he'll play? Oh joy, oh glee!

Totally different crowd tonight compared to Steve Aoki. It's a bit of a sausage fest from what I can tell so far. How can German men be so hot, yet so oddly dressed? I can't even count the number of fanny packs, socks with sandals and dreadlocks. So many Aussies too. I had a bit of a chat to Rusko and his Missus - they seem very nice.
But as much as I loved him the last time I saw Rusko play, I think he's the McDonald's of dubstep. Predictable, and a for the masses. He is starting to sound like happy hardcore for the next generation. I can't say he was bad, but he wasn't great either. He is entertaining - dancing around like the red headed madman he is behind the decks. I danced on the speaker stack - I guess that was fairly predictable too (if there's an object to dance on, I'll find it). I went home at the end of Rusko's set. The S-Bahn was still running. Thank god I'm not going to have a killer hangover tomorrow.

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