HW:Moor and NT

[c mumford]

At 11:59 13.01.98 +0200, Scott Heller wrote:
>The MOOR and Nik Turner at Molotow, Hamburg 11/1/98


Indeed there we were, at that perceived point in reality, which one only
achieves through long and ardorous sessions of meaningful talks on a train.
 Hamburg was very little like a fictional version of Hamburg, though in
many ways could have been perceived as one in a sense that it was neither.
Hamburg was as much Hamburg as Julian Cope was a teenage krautrocker: it
was cheeseburger with extra secret sauce all the way, and the cows thought
they knew the recipe.

At some later point in time, a band appeared to arrive, seemingly composed
of various individuals, two of them with the familiar email headers of
Kenneth Magnusson and Knut Gerwers. At Scott's repeated insistence we had
decided to wait for them, as he had made a prearrangement of sorts. So, on
cue we scampered like eager schoolchildren visiting Santa's factory, after
the band and into the club, as I particularly noticed the color of this
small, slightly torn corner of what seemed to have been a napkin, laying
near a dustbin which we passed. This piece of irrelevant information had
seemingly been left out of the script.

The rockstar Mr. Turner was certainly dressed for the formal interview
about to take place, and indeed things went smoothly as prearranged. We
filed into a small dark room where Scott could bring forth his recording
equipment and his sheet of thoughtfully formulated questions. The most
interesting things revealed were more meaningful sides of our conversation,
which will be made apparent elsewhere, in an ecologically sound sort of
manner one could suppose.

Afterwards I went upstairs to the bar and watched the extremely hip local
crowd getting ready for their very late evening on the town. Then I went
down the stair and stared a bit, then headed up again for another drink
with the cool locals, to whom it seemed I had reached my future state, as
it was. Downstairs again, hordes of us eager fans had gathered and indeed
we all felt a special bond connecting us. There was, disappointingly, no
warmup band, but the very special show put on made up for it. Certainly new
levels of audience participation were reached, as it was a great
performance of clowns and juggler. The show was very well advertised and
promoted and it seemed that way too. After the long rehearsal, the band
played generally a shapeless, shambling rambling tune of Moor, Nik, ICU and
Hawkwind songs, all but the lyrics went through the wringer, and they were
very clear. The drums were particularly bad, and the microwave oven onstage
wasn't really plugged in, though the colored lights were, and easily seen
through. Scott of course made an excellent recording of the whole thing,
though halfway through somewhere he vainly tried to punch me when I spoke
to him in what appeared to be a drunk and disorderly manner. Eventually,
the rendition of Washing Machine woke me up (as I was charmed/lulled into
some sleepwalking trance at this point) at what seemed to be the end of the
show, appearing to stir things up a bit. Then we headed out, conversing
once again, and took the train back to Copenhagen, as the curtains behind
us in Hamburg were drawn. It sure was a trip!

Christian