The Hellhounds were glad to welcome the Swedish Ambassador back on bass playing & hat wearing duties on Thursday night at Sharky's. It was great to have my rhythm section buddy back filling in the holes that I leave behind in the grooves occasionally. We slipped into the old patterns as easily as we downed the bacon and blue cheese burgers beforehand. Now, if we can only get a couple more channels in the mixer, the vocals can gather together as well ... expect some new songs when you drop in this Thursday.
Friday night I dropped in at The Cavern and chanced across Shangri-la, a cross-cultural trio made up of Russian Dave and some very good young Khmer players, a drummer and a keyboard player/singer. They played a well-rehearsed, tidily arranged collection of songs, and seem to walk the fine balance between pleasing both expat and local audiences. I'd like to see more fire, but hopefully that can be added once they're up and running. Oh, and in the contemporary Phnom Penh music tradition, there was some great hat wearing. The Cavern are promoting live music Friday nights at present, and I am looking forward to seeing what turns up.
Subsequently on Friday I popped by at Memphis to catch up with the mysterious Repris de Justesse, about whom nobody seemed to have any information at all, and was most disappointed to find it was just another 70s covers crowd-pleaser touring band - perhaps that's harsh, but I allowed them a song and a half to fail to impress me and left. Bad timing, really: I had to get up the next morning and move house.
(Invasion of) Australia Day on Tuesday - Cambodian Space Project live at Snow's (Maxine's) across the river from sundown!
Showing posts with label The Cavern. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Cavern. Show all posts
Monday, January 25, 2010
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Winding up at Velkommen & selling SIMs: 30 October - 3 November
Water Festival of course changed the musical landscape over the weekend. Friday and Saturday were relatively quiet nights, even more so for me as I had to sit out of the Hellhounds final Velkommen Inn gig on Friday due to a damaged wrist brought on by an ill-advised participation in a game of football with some kids, which just goes to show that exercise is bad for you. A few guest vocalists rounded out the Beer O'Clock Band's performance, and then the Hellhounds carried on with a guest drummer fresh off the plane from Australia for the first set, and then the Swedish Ambassador taking the thwacking duties and Dave of Misspent Yooth sitting in on bass.
Saturday night I was back in action, and was able to drum for the Lazy Jazz Drunks' public rehearsal at The Cavern, which then evolved into some impromptu jamming with Tom, Russian David and Khmer wunderkind TR.
Sunday and Monday D'Sco: The Geckos of Love shared a stage outside Riverhouse for Water Festival with some Khmer entertainers, promoting one of the local mobile phone companies. We added our particular shade of lusty, bluesy noise to the cocktail of uptempo dancing, slow balladeering and endless Khmer prattling about special deals by a guy who could speak underwater. The view from the stage was sometimes formidable, not really our regular audience.
Special thanks go to a group of young Aussies on Monday night who called up AC/DC, allowing me to pull out my guilty pleasure You shook me all night long, and then not only demanded an encore of Johnny B. Goode, but turned on a great bit of rock'n'roll dancing that delighted the crowd ... or perhaps astonished is a better word. In any case, a lovely bit of magic.
Tuesday turned into a bit of a washout, thanks to the rain, but we did play on at the afterparty until the beer ran out, playing Chuck Berry music and trying to find some songs that we had in common with the partiers (and coming up with Hotel California and Take me to your heart).
November is here, and it's going to be full. Catch you around the traps.
Saturday night I was back in action, and was able to drum for the Lazy Jazz Drunks' public rehearsal at The Cavern, which then evolved into some impromptu jamming with Tom, Russian David and Khmer wunderkind TR.
Sunday and Monday D'Sco: The Geckos of Love shared a stage outside Riverhouse for Water Festival with some Khmer entertainers, promoting one of the local mobile phone companies. We added our particular shade of lusty, bluesy noise to the cocktail of uptempo dancing, slow balladeering and endless Khmer prattling about special deals by a guy who could speak underwater. The view from the stage was sometimes formidable, not really our regular audience.
Special thanks go to a group of young Aussies on Monday night who called up AC/DC, allowing me to pull out my guilty pleasure You shook me all night long, and then not only demanded an encore of Johnny B. Goode, but turned on a great bit of rock'n'roll dancing that delighted the crowd ... or perhaps astonished is a better word. In any case, a lovely bit of magic.
Tuesday turned into a bit of a washout, thanks to the rain, but we did play on at the afterparty until the beer ran out, playing Chuck Berry music and trying to find some songs that we had in common with the partiers (and coming up with Hotel California and Take me to your heart).
November is here, and it's going to be full. Catch you around the traps.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Rain, rugby and wolf whistles: 22 - 25 October
The weekend began, as usual, with D’Sco: The Geckos of Love performing quietly but enjoyably at Sayon Silklounge (on St 19 about 50 metres north of St 240), a night made quieter than usual, incongruously, by the crashing thunderstorm which cleared the streets most effectively and made sure everyone stayed home.
Street 104 was busy on Friday night, as billowing clouds of rugby players in black-and-white-sharkskin patterned shirts gathered and dispersed, piling in and out of tuk-tuks and bars. These individuals, however, were not there for the music, and there was a broad acreage of carpet viewable at the Velkommen Inn where the Hellhounds held forth; although it must be said that there were a number of patrons who sat on the street to watch the rugger lads and formed a small audience.
Undeterred, we whipped through a couple of sets, with the 5-piece ensemble (the Swedish Ambassador and I adding rhythm section to the existing 3-piece core band) continuing to improve its swing and groove, and myself making fewer glaring drumming errors.
Saturday night, however, at The Cavern on St 104, was something of a different story. The evening began with a short practice session for the Lazy Jazz Drunks, who after the normal rehearsal style of a few ropy numbers were playing pretty tight and getting a very favourable reception from the small crowd gathering around the bar. Many of these were wearing matching t-shirts, some kind of business mafia apparently (I assume rugby was involved somehow) but there were familiar faces attached so they were forgiven, particularly when they were clapping and cheering.
After the rehearsal the Swedish Ambassador and I took to the stage for our regular tomfoolery, pulling out some Supertramp on request from the floor as well as a keyboard-driven version of The Long Division, and Stuck inside of Phnom Penh with the Memphis Blues again (otherwise known as It’s not the Mississippi, it’s the Mekong) again proving that there is at least one band in the capital playing original material. Singer/guitarist D who had joined us the previous week returned for a solo set that included a brief a capella-with-drums moment when the power adruptly took a short break.
I for one was somewhat disappointed that I was missing the Khmer rock’n’roll band at Chinese House (the menace of gigging too much is not getting to be audience enough – can anyone enlighten us? Was it good?) However, the magic was about to blossom again on 104 Street.
At some point during the last set, with D'Sco back on the stand, Sir J encouraged a young Khmer guy up to play with us -- picture a youthful Khmer Marc Bolan in a schmick all-black strip with perfect stage-hair – who took us through Knocking on heaven’s door, Don’t look back in anger and a song in Khmer, with an ease and grace suggesting he’d been performing since he could walk. Then he announced that he would rather play drums, so D’Sco clicked into rock’n’roll mode, thumping out an only occasionally played original Som Chop! and a medley that started with Polk Salad Annie, passed through Bang a Gong and ended with a chorus or two of Little Queenie (as far as I recall).
Less than 24 hours later, the extended Hellhounds broke into a shuffle for the Sunday session at Talking to a Stranger, which led of course to the first flashes of lightning in the south east. At the end of the first set, which had included some new tunes briefly rehearsed that morning (including Got my mojo working, which may or may not refer to a small Japanese car, and Walking the dog, which benefitted from some participatory wolf whistling from the crowd) the rain arrived, forcing a rather longer break than expected and succeeding in keeping audience numbers low. Still, being Phnom Penh musicians, we are well trained at having a good time whether people show up or not. We cooked nicely through the second set, chugging through as though we'd been playing together as a 5 piece for years, not weeks.
What else went on that I missed because I was busy?
Street 104 was busy on Friday night, as billowing clouds of rugby players in black-and-white-sharkskin patterned shirts gathered and dispersed, piling in and out of tuk-tuks and bars. These individuals, however, were not there for the music, and there was a broad acreage of carpet viewable at the Velkommen Inn where the Hellhounds held forth; although it must be said that there were a number of patrons who sat on the street to watch the rugger lads and formed a small audience.
Undeterred, we whipped through a couple of sets, with the 5-piece ensemble (the Swedish Ambassador and I adding rhythm section to the existing 3-piece core band) continuing to improve its swing and groove, and myself making fewer glaring drumming errors.
Saturday night, however, at The Cavern on St 104, was something of a different story. The evening began with a short practice session for the Lazy Jazz Drunks, who after the normal rehearsal style of a few ropy numbers were playing pretty tight and getting a very favourable reception from the small crowd gathering around the bar. Many of these were wearing matching t-shirts, some kind of business mafia apparently (I assume rugby was involved somehow) but there were familiar faces attached so they were forgiven, particularly when they were clapping and cheering.
After the rehearsal the Swedish Ambassador and I took to the stage for our regular tomfoolery, pulling out some Supertramp on request from the floor as well as a keyboard-driven version of The Long Division, and Stuck inside of Phnom Penh with the Memphis Blues again (otherwise known as It’s not the Mississippi, it’s the Mekong) again proving that there is at least one band in the capital playing original material. Singer/guitarist D who had joined us the previous week returned for a solo set that included a brief a capella-with-drums moment when the power adruptly took a short break.
I for one was somewhat disappointed that I was missing the Khmer rock’n’roll band at Chinese House (the menace of gigging too much is not getting to be audience enough – can anyone enlighten us? Was it good?) However, the magic was about to blossom again on 104 Street.
At some point during the last set, with D'Sco back on the stand, Sir J encouraged a young Khmer guy up to play with us -- picture a youthful Khmer Marc Bolan in a schmick all-black strip with perfect stage-hair – who took us through Knocking on heaven’s door, Don’t look back in anger and a song in Khmer, with an ease and grace suggesting he’d been performing since he could walk. Then he announced that he would rather play drums, so D’Sco clicked into rock’n’roll mode, thumping out an only occasionally played original Som Chop! and a medley that started with Polk Salad Annie, passed through Bang a Gong and ended with a chorus or two of Little Queenie (as far as I recall).
Less than 24 hours later, the extended Hellhounds broke into a shuffle for the Sunday session at Talking to a Stranger, which led of course to the first flashes of lightning in the south east. At the end of the first set, which had included some new tunes briefly rehearsed that morning (including Got my mojo working, which may or may not refer to a small Japanese car, and Walking the dog, which benefitted from some participatory wolf whistling from the crowd) the rain arrived, forcing a rather longer break than expected and succeeding in keeping audience numbers low. Still, being Phnom Penh musicians, we are well trained at having a good time whether people show up or not. We cooked nicely through the second set, chugging through as though we'd been playing together as a 5 piece for years, not weeks.
What else went on that I missed because I was busy?
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