Friday, January 22, 2010
Fuck words & show off. Mr. Fuhrpeltz asked for Ronny & team & here's our first gangster. The who is who of FUN CLUB will continue. Here I give you Ronny before:
And here you see him after we gave him what he deserved:
1, 2, 3 FUN CLUB INITIATIVE is proud to inform you that the great outsourcing has begun. In only a few hours a book review will be released on 1, 2, 3 FUN CLUB that - for the first time in 1, 2, 3 FUN CLUB history - is not written by our chief executive Tony Abstract. (As you might have figured yourself, we're trying hard to be listed as google's favorite choice for "chief executive".) We will introduce the brilliant professional writer and her piece in extenso soon.
We would like to add a few recommendations for the weekend that is about to absorb us. Besides the aforementioned Tilt! Party, you might want to go to the AKA tonight to see the grand opening of Cy Wilson's exhibition. There are many more things to do, but let us concentrate on this weekend's "Sahnehäubchen", the heart of the beast or should we call it the machine's CPU? There are robots to be touched at the aforementioned Sunday Extraordinaire, for more information dive into this. Our chief executive Tony Abstract will be there himself, he promised to wear a tank top only and called it his way of showing the winter that he couldn't care less. On his right arm you will find the word ROBOT in nasty big letters, whether in washable ink or in form of a permanent tattoo mostly depends on how much money can be raised till Sunday.
On Saturday we'll meet at the solarium, when and where will be announced on 1, 2, 3 - FUN CLUB.
Shortly after I had moved to Berlin, one of my musical mentors draged me to the Volksbühne for the first time in history, the band we saw was little beknown to me at the time. As you might have figured yourself or read in one of my biographies, it was not the last time I went to the Volksbühne, much less the last time I found myself bewitched by Animal Collective. By now they are canonized for good, one of the undisputable members of the pantheon, it even seems hard to believe that someone didn't know them once. No matter how disgustingly famous they became, no one ever seemed to consider any passion towards them shameful in any sense, an exceptional status only to be shared by demigods such as Nick Cave, a pair of sharp black leather shoes or German defense-dwarf Philipp Lahm. Now, I don't want to recommend you something you already know, even though I once told a major German literary critic that I just had discovered a promising young talent by the name of Goethe, a little anecdote that still amuses me. However, I wanted to put before you the night that finds you with no expectations, yet overwhelms you with what you've been missing, perhaps without even knowing. It usually never happens to me with concerts, probably because I barely attend them without high expectations.
On wednesday night I found myself at ever beloved West Germany, worn down and high-strung, in a difficult mood to say the least. Weave immediately struck me as beautiful, I in fact I liked their tiny little concert so much that I'm still too chicken-hearted to listen to their tunes again online. I will leave my childish crush with you, join or attack my Weave movement, but be aware that there are things in life much greater than your daydreams. Many thoughts there are that I developed during the concert, thoughts that have been haunting my little existence ever since then, but today I will spare you my violent and pathetic spear. Love is a weapon or a cross, will you handle it with care...