3rd Annual NZ Comics Weekend

For the third year in a row, the New Zea­l­and Com­ics Week­end is up and run­ning from at Graph­ic Com­ic Shop (106 Cuba Street), and the South­ern Cross Garden Bar (39 Abel Smith Street, Wel­ling­ton.)

This annu­al fest­iv­al of inde­pend­ent com­ics runs along­side the Armaged­don Pulp Cul­ture Expo in order to show­case and high­light the under­ground tal­ents in New Zea­l­and Com­ics.

More info here at Feel­ing Great.

A Mighty Mighty Mighty Weekend

Not only is The Mighty Mighty one of our favour­ite bars, what with its endear­ingly gauché fit out and enter­tain­ingly gauché barstaff and wot-not, but this week­end they host two very excit­ing (and very dif­fer­ent!) gigs.

Mëstar are tour­ing their recent album Shut The Squiz­wot Factor­ies Down and on Fri­day night (the 20th) they play at Mighty Mighty with Hot Swiss Mis­tress:

(Sorry for the stink photo of the gig poster but it was the best I could do with my phone-cam­era on the way to work this morn­ing.)

And then, on Sat­urday night (the 21st), at the start­ing time of 9pm is the avant-punk the­at­rics of Mr. Sterile Assembly, with Xenu and Thee Stra­pons:

Alt.country at the Bathhouse

Amer­ic­an alt.country legends Richard Buck­ner and Edith Frost are play­ing togeth­er at the San Fran­cisco Bath­house on Wed­nes­day night.

There are three kinds of Amer­ic­an folk artist: those who sit, con­ten­ted, on a back porch con­tem­plat­ing Amer­ica’s land­scape and ways; those for whom its land­scape and ways are some­thing to stand against or move boldly through; and those whose Amer­ica is a shad­owy, impres­sion­ist­ic place that moves inside of them. This [lat­ter] is the area that the sombre-voiced Richard Buck­ner has been explor­ing since 1984 –(Sylvie Sim­mons; The Guard­i­an, 2004)

Anti-Fascist Protective Rampart

Our very own Anti-Fas­cist Pro­tect­ive Ram­part has been up for months now, and remains as ugly as ever.

Look­ing south towards Friedrichstraße *cough* I mean Abel Smith Street:

… and north towards Ghuznee Street. In the dis­tance, over the wall, we see the sym­bols of cap­it­al­ism brazenly and proudly flaunted:

All we are really miss­ing are some sen­try towers, razor wire, and anti-per­son­nel mines. Some­body really needs to fin­ish this damn “bypass” already.

Extravaganza of Progressive Post-Rock

Post-rock is a done-to-death descrip­tion but as a sem­a­phore of intent it still serves a cer­tain pur­pose. First coined by music-journo Simon Reyn­olds as a term to describe pro­gress­ive music “using rock instru­ment­a­tion for non-rock pur­poses, using gui­tars as facil­it­at­ors of timbre and tex­tures rather than riffs and power chords”, its use was rap­idly spread dur­ing the 90s by breath­less writers sud­denly over­whelmed by seem­ingly-infin­ite pos­sible music-futures. Reyn­olds fur­ther expounded:

per­haps the really pro­voc­at­ive area for future devel­op­ment lies… in cyborg rock; not the whole­hearted embrace of Tech­no’s meth­od­o­logy, but some kind of inter­face between real time, hands-on play­ing and the use of digit­al effects and enhance­ment.


… which in itself has turned out to be suit­ably ambi­tious, as in gen­er­al attempts at an amal­gam of real-time instru­ment­a­tion and digit­al frip­pery have turned out to be a big hor­rible mess (with not­able excep­tions, of course).

The Dead C are coming to town

I would­n’t wanna put money on it or any­thing, but I’m pretty sure that the last time legendary NZ noise-rock­ers The Dead C (wiki­pe­dia) played in Wel­ling­ton was when they sup­por­ted Son­ic Youth on their Dirty tour in 1993. And to be frank, with an utterly tran­scend­ant per­form­ance in the face of much tribu­la­tion, mopped the floor with them.

Now they’re play­ing at the City Gal­lery on Sat­urday night. It’s free. What the hell else do you need to know?

City Gal­lery Wel­ling­ton is proud to present The Dead C. These noise/rock her­oes who have most recently played in the UK at Thur­ston Moore’s All Tomor­row’s Parties fest­iv­al will per­form in the Gal­lery. Sup­port from loc­al band Thought Creature. Gal­lery opens at 7. Music starts 8. Be sure to make it to this unique per­form­ance.

Here’s a (reas­on­ably fam­ous) video of The Dead C on now-defunct Fri­day-nite music show Ground Zero in 1999, play­ing Sky (off what some claim to be their greatest album, Harsh 70s Real­ity) and talk­ing about Sui­cide with the hosts:

A Friday night and a Saturday morning

Down at the City Gal­lery on Fri­day night they are run­ning anoth­er one of their Late Night Ses­sions, where you get to cruise around the big exhib­i­tion (this time it’s the bien­ni­al Pro­spect show) in rel­at­ive peace and listen to lovely live music while you do so. And all for free.

City Gal­lery’s pop­u­lar late night Fri­day returns. Wander through Tele­com Pro­spect 2007: New Art New Zea­l­and to a back­drop of inde­pend­ent and elec­tron­ic sounds by loc­al per­formers. Fea­tur­ing Penelop­ing, Tc Wedde with Luke Buda, and Aspen.

The lovely Luke Buda is of course in The Phoenix Found­a­tion, as is (the equally lovely) Tc Wedde. Aspen is also lovely and also known as Sign­er, and is one half of Over the Atlantic and one half of Skal­lander. And the “medi­um-core girl-boy plink­pop!” Penelop­ing also have a very good repu­ta­tion as a live act. Hav­ing exper­i­enced Late Night Ses­sions many times before – from the point of view both of a per­former and a pat­ron – I can heart­ily recom­mend this event.

A drink for Autumn: the Negroni

At the wind whips at us with its chill flails, the blustery wet drizzle envel­ops our heads as we peraum­bu­late along the streets of down­town, as the night glows into the dawn with a dull damp viol­et cloud – we’re gonna need a drink to ward off the misery of the sea­son. So I present to you the mulled-wine of the cock­tail fam­ily: The Neg­roni.

It seems there are not a lot of people who will admit to a fond­ness for Cam­pari. Indeed it was not two nights ago that a drink­ing com­pan­ion of mine brayed some­thing inco­her­ent about “ear­wax” when the dreaded C‑word was men­tioned dur­ing a free-ran­ging ses­sion over at mine. How­ever, for all its per­ceived sins, without Cam­pari you would not have a Neg­roni.

It is the Cam­pari that is the medi­cin­al “bit­ter” and provides the char­ac­ter­ist­ic fla­vor of the Neg­roni. A little back­ground: accord­ing to my sources, Com­pari was con­cocted by Gas­pare Cam­pari in the 1850s. Gas­pare, at only age 14, was the mas­ter drink maker at the Bass Bar in Tur­in, which was the com­mer­cial cen­ter for aper­itifs at the time. Cam­pari is made with nat­ur­al ingredi­ents that include herbs, spices, bark and fruit peels. The exact for­mula is of course a highly guarded secret. And as far as the Neg­roni is con­cerned, as with all great cock­tails stor­ies dif­fer, but the most pop­u­lar account of its ori­gin is that Count Cam­illo Neg­roni, a Florentine aris­to­crat, decided one day to add some bite to his favor­ite drink, the Amer­icano. He had the bar­tender add gin. From that time on he ordered the same drink every day. Even­tu­ally the bar­tender named the drink after him.

The Neg­roni. Com­plex. Spicy. Bit­ter, although not overly so. The tini­est bit of sweet­ness to off­set that. It’s a drink to warm a cold breast. It’s a per­fect aper­itif, a drink to wake up your taste buds and shout “Ciao, ragazzo bello! Come stai?”. And the col­our! The rich brown and deep red tones seem to glow with soft light and autum­nal hues. Hold one near a light and your Neg­roni will erupt in orange novas. It’s the obvi­ous drink-of-Autumn for a Wel­ling­tonista.

“Bene, gra­zie!”

Hi, and Pandit Shiv Kumar Sharma

Hi. I’m new here. Usu­ally I burble sporad­ic­ally and semi-coher­ently on Drinks-After-Work; I’m look­ing for­ward to the chal­lenge of step­ping up to the plate and mak­ing sense most of the time.

Posters for this went up last night (sorry for the stink image – I can­’t find any­thing on the web so far):

Pan­dit Shiv Kumar Sharma is the pion­eer of the Kash­miri san­toor (Indi­an hammered dul­ci­mer) and was (heh) instru­ment­al in it’s accept­ance into the hal­lowed pan­theon of Indi­an clas­sic­al music (read about it). At 69 he is the acknow­ledged mas­ter of san­toor; indeed he is vir­tu­ally syn­onym­ous with it. Using a 100-string san­toor in chro­mat­ic arrange­ment Sharma cre­ates com­plex webs of beau­ti­ful, eth­er­e­al, shim­mer­ing sound, mount­ing impro­visa­tion with­in impro­visa­tion with­in the raga form, cli­max­ing in furi­ous blo­wouts with fiery tabla vir­tu­osos and fren­zied, ecstat­ic glis­sando.

He’s real good. His album Sampra­daya is one of my favour­ite Indi­an clas­sic­al record­ings of all time. And with his debut in 1997 (also on san­toor), Sharma’s son and dis­ciple Rahul became the third part of an excep­tion­al pan-gen­er­a­tion­al san­toor tri­um­vir­ate. Both Sharma’s are play­ing at St Mary of the Angels on Wed­nes­day the 14th of March – pre­sum­ably on their way to WOMAD – with Yogesh Sam­si on the tabla. They will play in an excit­ing Jugalbhansdi style. Book­ings from Tick­etek.