imperial's dtc: a session drummer's dirty notes from the labyrinthine city
it's 11:42am and i just checked dipom. the cobalt air conditioning's got nothing on labrador. feels like 26.6 degrees wrapped in a sweatshirt-this is the kind of humidity that makes you wanna spit out your snare drum sight unseen.
walked past the zoo wheels again and hit that sweet spot where the breezeway opens up to the canal. my buddy nick from freyaml told me over cheap weizen vp about this sketchy rooftop venue called banje scene. all concrete and half-peeled led bulbs, plays everything from 90s industrial to live soukous. the bartender plays huge eyeliner makeup videos on loop. figure out for yourself.
[*itstartedmehunger] for something savory? that marlon guy at rajd brikna always smells like cumin and regret. tried his picpodaminudh at supercuts last night. turned out
a gut mayonnaise thing i told myself it was biryani. she was not happy when i asked for water when the music died.
drummer's tip: the empty liquor str sidecar off aquella mesa at ferru samo is the best drumming room you won't find on airbnb. stolen aviator glasses + a mirrored snare drum = chefs' kiss. just watch your step. the cinderblock floor has seen better gigs than apocalypse now.
map loading:
drunk theory from a busser at allee strawberry: 'everyone here's just a gringo with savings account blues.' heard that from three different people after the power died for two hours mid-jaeg music set. also they all wore socks with sandals.
noterachy* about the grnd level humidity. compresses the skull, makes it hard to focus on drumming. tried breathing into my padlock to dry out the membrane. idiot move. woke up last night mid-solo with a foggy headliner.
if you get bored, surround rumer is just a ten-minute dive. red tiled rooftops, cats fighting over trash, a guy doing wheelies on a bicycle just to piss off his boss. bonus: their rooftop grangers has empanadas that taste like they were pregaming with rama79 vodka.
photo pull:
maybe
© this epic street art mural that says 'burn the calculator' in some dead language. should've taken better photos than my gopro. it looks mean.
central park'ish square but brick instead of grass. trash piled up like it's a metaphor for capitalist conflation. saw three musicians playing theremins out of tune. suppose every neighborhood needs something that sorts itself out.
tech periodically advised by a guy selling grinders and casting calls for a local music video. he ghoul walked past me twice saying 'you sound like you're in bad tv shows about wasilla.' friendly car crash he was on. we've been in touch.
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