You don’t often get the chance to experience something special, which is completely subjective but does not detract from its personal value. For me, the opportunity to see Green Day in a German 1000 person club (something they never seem to do outside of California) that used to be a factory for free was one too great to turn down. I won the ticket in a draw on Green Day’s fanclub so that saved me what would normally be around £40. The flights and hotel weren’t free, though, and it took a bit of welcome generosity from my parents to lend me some cash (I had only just spent most of that month’s salary on tickets to Green Day’s tour later in the year) enabling me to go, which was nice.
I did go budget, though. I may have been making an experience of it but I certainly wasn’t going to be flying on BA or checking into Das Ritz or whatever the German equivalent is. I found a last-minute flight on Germanwings (yeah, I’d not heard of them either) and a hotel in what I later learned was the crappy side of Cologne. Who cares, though, when the flight is only an hour long and I was awake for about 30 minutes total in my hotel room, spent watching CNN on the smallest television in western Europe.
The whole journey took less time than it did to get to Manchester for The Living End gig in Manchester a week or two back. That’s not to say it didn’t feel like a tedious flight/train ride. On the S-Bahn there were two blonde female twins. Unfortunately they were pensioners with BMIs greater than their combined age. Also on the S-Bahn, I noticed that Germany also possesses ‘Toys R Us’, which is nothing if not an example of rampant globalisation. Something that hasn’t reached us yet, though, is the store next door to ‘Toys R Us’, which is called ‘Babies R Us’ and, unless it doubles as a maternity hospital, is hopelessly misnamed. This is the sort of crap that kept me amused. I am my own perfect travel companion.
Eventually the show rolled round after I had checked into the hotel, had a beer in the bar, failed to communicate properly with the ‘no speakee ingleese’ staff and gone to buy toothpaste (because the cunts at Stansted don’t let people with decent dental hygiene onto aeroplanes) and it was exceptionally good fun. There was no crappy opening act to resent while waiting for Green Day and there was an odd moment where everybody in the crowd turned around to cheer a German celebrity (apparently a comedian so I’m dubious) who was sat on a balcony. People were getting genuinely agitated at the sight of somebody I had never seen or heard of before in my life. I imagine the same was true when foreigners saw the news of Jade Goody’s death.
The crowd itself seemed to be either a) female and teenage or b) middle aged and male with teenage daughter, so I didn’t expect a huge reaction from the audience and thought it wouldn’t get moving very much. I found a space in the middle fairly near the front and expected to be able to stand comfortably and watch Green Day play (my knee pain means any sustained dancing is really bad for the joint and will ache for ages after). It didn’t happen, though, and I was bouncing around like a man without shoes on hot coals. The new songs sounded fantastic, even though I’d never heard them before and the classic tunes they shared were played as well as ever, even if there is something slightly off at the sound of a German crowd singing ‘Longview’ in a noticeably affect accent. Still, it didn’t put me off.
Naturally, going to a gig abroad, aside from the travel, is a different experience to that in the UK. Germany is no different and there were some odd customs I picked up on. Folks over there don’t really do queuing. Lining up for something doesn’t mean you’ll necessarily get in first and as I sat down, because I was so early, in the queue for the show people were quite happily walking over me to get closer to the entrance. This wouldn’t happen in the UK, and I’ve been to shows at Brixton Academy where the queue goes around the whole venue, with everybody lined up in single file.
The gig finished and I slept soundly in my hotel room for about 10 hours, even though I had been provided with one of those shitty square pillows the Germans seem to adore. The trip back was something of a daze and despite a short delay on the flight, I got home just in time to see Arsenal get beaten (then bent over and raped) 4-1 by Chelsea. If there is one reason for having many hobbies, it’s that one of them will be there to keep you happy.
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