Busy doing nothing… well, a little.

General News

I am losing focus… Am I losing focus? There is lots to do, lots I (one) can do. However, harnessing the motivation is a process which I struggle to comprehend. Idle distractions are ever so inviting. And of course that is not to mention the not-so-idle distractions that life plonks directly in your path at reasonably, or unreasonably, regular intervals.

In the stead of the filtering through to you all (as my collective peers, superiors, and critics) of convoluted and pithy excuses I will direct you to the glimmers of action that occasionally fleck the shoulders of my inactive body.

I am beginning to put demonstrations of ideas and other crappity upon a new soundcloud account: http://soundcloud.com/dtb-1

I slowly add to the galley section of this very online body, some newly drawn pictures from the brain-side of my head: https://www.davidthomasbroughton.co.uk/gallery/

I will soon add to the list of up-coming shows, thanks to the news that I will be in the USA in MARCH 2011 (sorry, that’s next month) and doing UK and Europe during MAY when OUTBREEDING will also be released.

NYC: 12th March at Pete’s Candy Store, Williamsburg
NYC: 15th March at Rockwood Music Hall
SXSW: 18th March, 18th Floor of Hilton, 19th March look out for the Music Yorkshire showcase, and some other little bits around Austin.
LA: 24th March at Hotel Cafe, w/SKB, and stuff

There will be more in this schedule at some point but I will update via the gigs calendar: Aubergine or https://www.davidthomasbroughton.co.uk/live-shows/

Recent Activity

General News

I did this drawing when we were in Japan, it is a birthday gift requested by someone in Madrid, so the original is there.
Also while we were in Japan I performed at a little show, in the cosy surroundings of a small bar opposite Ikenoue station, just one down from Shimokitazawa. The audience were treated to a bit more comedy that I would have usually let slip but it felt comfortable. My set was flanked by the thoroughly interesting VELTZ, manipulating feeds to old TV sets to make an audio visual treat, and the first class noise of Government Alpha. Katrine managed to capture a bit of me playing, I’ll cut it down so you can see it sometime on the video’s page.

Memories of our First Weekend in Beijing

General News

After some small rectangles of white bread, from which we removed the plastic-looking processed meats, we arrive…

The following day was spent mostly walking. We walked from the hotel in the direction of the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square. The heat is pretty hot and we pass a number of embassy compounds, people’s army guards carry empty water cooler bottles, the Vietnam Embassy, the Gabon, Bangladesh, Benin, the Thai embassy is probably the neatest, they seem to have a varying amount of potted pants outside along the pavement like the global economic difficulties has forced them all to operate as garden centres on the side.

On the way down the main road to Tiananmen we are accosted by an “art student” who wants to take us to see her “art exhibition”, it is conveniently on the way. Unwittingly we go, assuming the conversation means she is hoping to use the opportunity to practice her English…. so we learn that this is a very common scam to get people to buy pictures http://www.beijingtraveltips.com/sights/gallery_girls/gallery_girls.htm. We successfully decline and leave, although the pictures are mostly pretty nice, it is standard faux traditional fare, scrolls and oriental ink. I suppose the best way to learn a lesson.

When we arrive at the Forbidden City, through the side gate to the square in front, the crowds are ridiculous. Not being too patient we do not want to queue for the tickets and turn left toward Tiananmen. A slow walk and squeeze over through the gate, how are they able to sell ice-lollies from cardboard boxes in this heat? Over the bridge, we then turn and see Mao’s portrait and scan the extent of the square, but with the traffic and people and openness to the heat we walk along to a side street. We then walk with the intent of seeing some of the chain of lakes and parks, which flank the western side of the Forbidden City and reach further north. Up to near the entrance of Bai’hai Park we stop at a street stall for cold noodles, for lunch a pot of cold noodles and cucumber slices is added to with sauces of garlic, chilli, soy and nutty satay flavours. Pretty satisfying. We rest under the seating they have, above which heavy squashes squash the plastic roofing and a large one has bent a little gap to peep through.

We walk the park, which consists of a lake with a temple on an island and boating on the main part of the lake, the southern part of the lake next to the island is covered in lotus which are blooming at this time, some turned to seed-heads. The lotus-covered pond is a pretty common theme here and in the rest of Asia too. Things to note on the stroll are the men (and woman) with sponge brushes painting Hanzi in water on the path (one also painting portraits) these temporary illustrations seem to have more of an appeal for their impermanence. Further on is a series of four pergolas set out on the lake and linked by little bridges. In each of these there is a different musical turn. The first seems to be a more traditional ensemble. A row of men sits on the benches with instruments. From what I can make out a bowed string instrument which sits on the lap, a fiddle, a pipe instrument which comprises a cluster of pipes with holes at the bases to cover for different notes, a flute, another of the small stringed instrument and then a larger one which rests on the floor like a cello (I later learn that these are the Erhu or Zhonghu, a violin, a Sheng, a flute (could be one of a number of traditional Chinese flutes perhaps a Dizi), another Erhu/Zhonghu and a Gaohu). Opposite and adjacent to them is a row of women doing the singing; all these people are in their senior years. It looks like anyone can join in, simply depositing his or her handbag in the centre and joining the circle. The next pergola has a large man perfuming some operatic song karaoke style, the following one has a middle aged couple on amplified harmonicas, a guy on guitar and a couple of old ladies singing along. The final one is some sort of jive dancing, common gatherings  can be witnessed where people waltz and glide to a tape player in any available space in the city.

After finishing the walk round the lake you reach the exit, and our intention is to walk to the shopping district at Xidan, this is what we do. And arriving there we are suddenly in the very developed world. The department stores and shopping centres are dizzying and it is easy to become disorientated with the number of floors and aisles and irregular layout, all the shops we know and surprisingly comparable prices considering the stuff is mostly made locally! One recommendation I won’t be giving is to have a green bean iced milk.

Following our shopping trip we head to the subway to get back to the hotel to meet with Martin. Subway travel reminds us of the lack of queuing practiced in China. Patiently waiting behind a woman at the ticket machine, who finishes her transaction and as we step forward a man darts in from the side to claim the spot at the machine. Oh well.

One topic covered in conversation with Martin about life in Beijing is the media censorship. Not initially apparent when you experience a life much like the bustle and media filled dizziness of Tokyo, but if you were to try and do a comprehensive Google search (we all know about the legal wrangling Google have been having with china) or to watch anything on YouTube. Furthermore, any criticism of the government is blocked. This reflects itself sometimes when you are happily watching TV. One example described is watching the film Syriana, at the line ‘What do you know about the torture methods used by the Chinese on the Falun Gong?’ the TV cuts out. Only to return to a bloodied George Cloony, so it can be inferred that they were not too good. So cut to our hotel room, try to watch TV, well this situation is a little different, The People’s Republic informs us that they have called a day of mourning for those lost in the mudslides this week. This includes a ban on entertainment activities, the channels have been blocked and all the CCTV channels show a rotating reel of news about memorial services and relief efforts in the area. The only cannel we can get aside from this is CNN. And it is cutting out about every 10 minutes, when things are back on Monday morning a news item, which launches into a very negative stance on the government is promptly cut and TV only resumes to ‘safe’ news. It’s nice to think that there is a man watching TV with a switch to turn off the national broadcasting whenever controversial material airs.

With not one word of Chinese apart from ‘nihau’ we look for some Chinese food, we try one of the chain, Xiabu Xiabu, and in what looks to be a foreigner heavy area we expect to encounter some understanding of English to ease our struggle. No chance. We did manage to order. Albeit mistakenly ending up with the blandest option. But it was a healthy clear soup with vegetables, tofu, and mushrooms.

There are westerners who exchange glances with fellow westerners; this is an awkward situation that we inflicted on some in the Xiabu Xiabu. It is a look, which tries, and fails, to illicit some conversation/moral support/rescue inferring the shared situation of being somewhere alien. It was unfair on us for them to not support as they had a Chinese friend who obviously helped them no end.

Recently again in Beijing trying to get to a gig.

General News

We board line 2, the circular one. Convenience has bestowed upon us the Dongsishitiao station on our doorstep and at what equates to 20 pence per journey no matter how far you take the subway. We go round to the second meeting with line 13 where we can take the three stops to Wudaukou station in the universities district. I am looking to find a place where we can feed ourselves before heading to the concert. And the station is sufficiently supplied with neighbouring department stores housing restaurants. We locate a hot-pot place to dip vegetables in boiling water and rub in a subsequent bath of garlic or chilli sauce before inserting into our mouths for mastication.

We have no idea where along this road the venue is situated. I spot some foreigners, they all seem to be Europeans studying Chinese at the University, they don’t really know what I’m talking about, they all must be squares. I eventually do find a continental European who knows the venue and directs us accordingly. We walk past a street market full of tat, some other restaurants and series of foul smells until we find the place. And it is comforting to find what we would all recognise as a scruffy gig venue of a bar.

It is set up with black walls adorned with student artwork, and displaying a great deal of self expression in content, in mind of the fact we are in China, where taking drugs can carry a death sentence and the media is still censored. It is great to see the explosion of contemporary arts, we saw some interesting performance and installation in the 798 art district earlier in the week, having not kept up with the progress in China it still surprises. It turns out, as a visitor to Beijing how was I to know, that D-22 has been here for years and that the music we are about to see has been developing for a long time.

We wait, it is not quite nine and the place is empty. There is an antique Chinese table football behind us and a mezzanine area above. The dingy light slowly reveals itself as we sit. Photographs of prominent Beijing bands are illuminated along the balcony, Joyside, Carsick Cars, Hedghog… of course I know none of them this is my first foray into the scene.

Table Football

The first act shuffle about and check the sound passing out of their processor from two keyboards, a guitar and the mic on the drum. Two young guys in shirt and oversized jumper, one taller than the other. As a loop of arpeggiated high notes is set by the tall one in oversized jumper the shorter stabs at his low notes and so ensues the textured and pulsating semi improv music. They make a pretty engaging sound, the smaller one accompanying his keyed bass line loop with some disjointed electric guitar. When loops are safely standing on their own the taller one slides across to beat a floor tom and crash a cymbal.

I have no idea what they are called. The majority of the audience is known to each other, we are two of about 30 or so people in this room. A recognisable art school clique forms the most part with a good helping of expat music geeks and likely friends of the Americans who own the venue.

The short interlude sees many slunk outside although smoking is most definitely not banned inside. The squat Chinese girlfriend of the French boy sits right next to us coating us in the blue-grey smoke from her cigarillo.

Now a more serious looking couple slouch onto the stage arranging their analogue synthesisers on the floor facing each other. Two more tentative chaps with Beatles haircuts and glasses set themselves up at the drums and sat down with electric guitar. Sheng sits with her back to the crowd, Shou Wang facing her side on. This is WHITE, the main attraction for tonight. And honing their reputation since the mid 2000’s, they have variously played with many prominent names in the sphere of music exploratory and studied in London. Their sound tonight is fairly rhythmic and progressive but nevertheless relatively organic as a result of the tones. The duelling oscillations snake along to the regulating patter of the drums, a line of texture added by guitar. As the intensity heightens Shou Wang picks up his guitar and spits in a bit of discordant stabbing. The sound is very immersive with the warmth of the synth drones and a very attentive audience. After what seems like a respectable amount of time the sound stops and the crowd disperses again.

WHITE

The final act is cut short for us as we tire and jump in a taxi, it is around 11:30 when we go but that was not too late to see half, which was a much more masculine and energised performance. A series of pedals and knobs are set up on a table and a guitar is slung on shoulder. a leather jacket and skinny jeans. Drummer is sound-checked. A more rapid and rhythm driven sound is created reminiscent of where animal collective went and the drumming is straight and tight. A quintessential rocking back and forth while hunched over the switches and knobs. Accompany with strobing coloured lights and you have the headline slot, A4 Destroyer.

Tonight took me back to the Cardigan Arms/Packhorse/Brudenell in 2003-2005 and a pleasant haze of comfort. Freedom to do what what you want, even if it isn’t new, really engages an audience. Some things are new to some people and some things are reminders to people who may have lost the focus. There is still a positive reaction to decent rhythm, there is still a positive reaction to harmonising tones, there is still space for progression. Makes me think about the fact that I remain pressing the same pedal for the same effect after this seven years.