Halloween RULES.

Photo gallery HERE. Post coming soon.

Only about a month late on this, but HERE is the photo gallery from my one day at Sziget Festival 2007. It was hot, dusty, filled with drunken hippies and corporate sponsorship, plagued by sound problems and we were ‘on the job’. I think I’m too old for this.

From left: Def Selector, Uncle ?uesto, E-Star

Hu-ha, we had fun at the VOLT Festival! E had the crazy fresh hook-up and we got to meet THE ROOTS! Well, actually just ?uestlove, the drummer and usual spokesperson, about their first show in Hungary. We were actually on double duty, as in addition to the interview, we were supposed to get some pictures and sound bites about “festival fashion”. Here are some pics from the event.

Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: Here’s a forum of reactions. It gets pretty ugly with some racism and poor English and such, but it gives a few more details of what happened. To sum up, apparently Nas’s managers weren’t satisfied with the venue (either the sound wasn’t good enough, the stage not good enough, or that it was a bigger place than they expected) and demanded more money. The Hungarian organizers balked at first, then tried to come up with the money in cash on the very night of the show. However, it was refused by the managers and Nas didn’t play. It should be noted, however, that Nas’s wife, Kelis, DID play her show in Budapest that very same night.

————————-

This last Saturday night was very exciting, because E and I had tickets to the first ever Nas concert in Hungary. After a fast and fun bike ride up past Margaret Island as fireworks crackled ahead and above us, we got there at what we thought was an appropriate time, around 10:30, to a packed house of dressed-to-impress Hungarian hip-hop fans at an upscale warehouse-turned club called Studio. We wormed and squeezed our way up towards the front, finally finding a decent space between overexcited high schoolers wearing hip-hop pajamas, 300-pound gorillas wearing FUBU, and their attendant flocks of women, wearing very little at all.

Not having heard of either of the opening acts proved not to be an embarrassment, as they were both terrible – some kind of Marky-Mark/Vanilla Ice mash-ups from the 1980s wearing jean shorts and white t-shirts and rapping about, well, who cares. It’s lucky for them they didn’t really wait for applause between songs, because there wasn’t any. Afterwards a breakdance crew did their thing which was cool, I guess. And now for the main event, Nasty Nas, living legend, street poet, gangster philosopher, right? Wrong. We waited 30 minutes, sweating patiently. Then another 30 minutes, getting irritated at the DJ’s selection, most of which was popular back in 1993 (note: the Hungarians loved it, though. They can’t seem to hear Snoop Dogg’s “What’s my Name?” too many millions of times). At this point the DJ came on saying Nas was here, but wouldn’t come on for another 30 minutes. Exasperated, we abandoned our spot up front and headed to the rear of the venue, where some couches and tables provided a much-needed rest for the knees. We were entertained by a completely soused cica (“kitten”) wearing approximately 6 inches of skirt and dancing, let’s say provocatively, before passing out limbs askew and snoring on the couch next to us.

Finally, at after 2 a.m. after four hours of waiting and hearing one bottom-of-the-barrel tune after another, the music went down, the crowd gurgled expectantly, the announcer came out and said . . . “Sorry folks, but [expletive] Nas has refused to [expletive] perform because our [expletive] country is not [expletive] good enough for him. The police have taken him into custody . . .” – all else drowned out by boos. Who knows what happened. It’s doubtful our money will be refunded, which is especially tough for Hungarians, as the ticket price was a not insignificant HUF 4,000-6,000 ($20-30 US). They did offer free entry to the upcoming Snoop Dogg show, but who wants to go see pop music when we paid to see hip-hop?

I’m pretty disappointed in Nas, to say the least. There were thousands of fans there, and this was an important event for the promoter, who I can’t say I really care for that much either, but it was a Hungarian premiere. Superstars are pretty selfish, I guess. So much for that. At least the bike ride home was cool and lovely along the Danube at 3 a.m.

Come one, come all.

 (I just love that retro-active time-stamping!

Saw a great brass/combination band from France last night at Trafó called CQMD. The line up is comprised of two percussionists, both of whom carry their drums, marching band style, three horn players (tuba, trombone, trumpet) and a banjo. They rocked it, bringing a combination of lively brass band funk that gets your feet jumping and head bopping to the stage and with the addition of the banjo and amplification to give it more musical texture and creativity. From my very limited experience with new-school brass bands, which are the hippest thing to hit the U.S. in years, I could see that this one had roots in the outdoor, unamplified, party band area, then progressed to a more musical, staged act. They still came down into the crowd to mix it up, which is a trademark of the style, and the Hungarians loved it.

Check this out: the concert of my DREAMS, basically every single artist I would ever want to see, in one place, on one day, will happen this July 28-29 in New York. It’s Rock the Bells.

Apparently the original one-date show sold out in 20 minutes, prompting the organization of a second show, which went on sale today at 4pm Hungary time and are probably already sold out. Despite the $100 ticket price ($83+ an unbelieveable $17 ticketmaster surcharge), I actually checked airfares – unfortunately in the $700/person range. I think if I’d found anything for less than five-hundred I would seriously consider going. This is like the Woodstock of hip-hop.

A small consolation was that I also saw that the Roots will be playing in Hungary at the reportedly lame-o Volt Festival this summer. The Sziget Festival is also shaping up to be a bit on the weak side, leaning way too far towards washed-up or second-tier rock acts than anything contemporary. But I guess this is the price we pay for being a small, quiet country with no terrorists or crazy people shooting each other.