Blogging Berlin (Above: Me & Ali in front of the Brandenburg Gate) After being merrily greeted by Deirdre at the terminal in Berlin, we get in a cab and venture back to her place where Roxanna (another friend of mine, and D’s roommate) and D’s sister, Ali, are sleeping off a late night. I describe my time in Paris during our cab ride and she gives me some insight into what I should expect from Berlin. Her synopsis essentially amounts to pounding (techno) music, staying out until 6 am, and seeing some major monuments in world history. Sounds like fun—and drastically different from the mellow wine sipping evenings spent in Paris. I’m excited for the change, though; I’m excited to converse with friends who speak “my” English, and I’m excited for the live music to come. The first night after my arrival—Christmas Eve—is spent at their very nicely decorated loft drinking German beer and playing various electro tracks from Deirdre’s MacBook. On Christmas day, after popping a few bottles of champagne and opening a couple presents, we go sightseeing in the city. Berlin is well decorated in its Christmas attire and it captures the traditional spirit well. We go to the Brandenburg Gate and walk through the Holocaust Memorial adjacent to the Gate. I quickly learn that Berlin has not forgotten—and doesn‘t wish to forget—the tragedy associated with the Holocaust; there are several memorials throughout the city and each is both creative and powerful. After our city tour we return to the girls’ loft and rest up for the evening. Going out to a club on Christmas night? That’ll be a first and at least we won‘t have to worry about crowds, right? Our night begins with an extensive preparty featuring beats, Berliner bears (the four of us), and the modestly priced Ranch Wood Whiskey (unfortunately, no Battlestar Galactica). We end it on a high note and brave the 2 am cold to locate the club. After searching in a dark maze of brick buildings about two miles from their place, we come across a small red neon triangle the seems to represent the club’s entrance. As we approach the sign, the faint sound of a techno kick drum is heard. Deirdre and Roxy look at each other with smiles on their faces. Alright, we found it—let’s get inside before a German skinhead pops out from a dark corner with a weapon in hand. We enter the club and I’m immediately hit in the face with that same pounding techno kick drum. The place is crowded—it turns out Germans like to party no matter the day of the year—and a red glow from various ceiling lights fills the club. We peruse the place and are struck by its aesthetic structure: the building was likely part of an industrial sector of Berlin and after it was decommissioned it was then converted to a chic and tastefully assembled club. Despite the club being lit up red, overall, it lacks the trashy, dirty vibe that I had envisioned of a “German club.” We end up tearing up the dance floor until nearly 6 and get a cab back to the loft where we indulge in some much needed rest. I wake up in the afternoon. I had been drinking water intermittently between Berliner beers and feel pretty good after a solid eight hour rest. The only thing on the itinerary for the day is to visit the only remaining part of the Berlin Wall, now called “The East Side Gallery”. Deirdre, Ali and I make the short walk over to the wall. When we get there, I’m immediately amazed by what’s on the wall: various established artists had recently been enlisted to paint over the wall with their own creations, hence the title “Gallery”. Some chose to give their interpretation of what the Wall signified and what the fall of it signified, while others created abstract portraits with seemingly no relation to the Wall whatsoever. As we walk the (approximately) mile long portion remaining, I attempt to decipher each image as we go along—some are straightforward, others are not—but I’m intrigued by each one. The entire experience is quite astounding. The next couple of days are spent walking around Berlin and going out at night. Each of us are in great anticipation of the 29th, the night we are going to see Boy 8-Bit at a club a stones throw away from the loft. I’m especially excited—Boy 8-Bit has produced some of my favorite tracks of the last year. The 29th finally arrives and I’m giddy with excitement. The day goes by and the night begins. We pre-party until nearly 1 and make the brief jaunt to the club Boy 8-Bit and DJ Switch (Diplo’s counter part in Major Lazer) are performing at. The set up of the club is real neat: big bar; relatively open with lots of space; good sound system; and it includes a comfortable lounging area for resting between dance sessions. Boy 8-Bit begins shortly after our arrival and I feel like a 12 year old girl at her first Justin Timberlake concert. He drops all the jams I want to hear. It’s perfect. I snap picture after picture as I bounce to the beat with Deirdre and Roxy by my side. Everything is wonderful. Then a bit of a screw ball comes my way. Somewhere near the end of his set I step on a piece of glass and it cuts right through the rubber of my shoe and goes into my foot. I immediately feel pain, which I know is a particularly bad thing considering how much I’ve had to drink, and I hobble over to the lounging area for a closer examination. There’s a hole in my sock and a circle of blood around it, but the injury is not life threatening. I limp to the bar and get a drink to attempt to ameliorate the pain—there is no way I‘m missing the rest of 8-Bit’s set. It works and I keep dancing while favoring my right foot by leaning against the railing adjacent to the front of the stage. Boy 8-Bit ends with his remix of “Drumming Song” by Florence & the Machine. I scream for an encore but it leads to no avail. During DJ Switch’s set my energy begins to leave and I become slightly uninterested. I’m ready to go patch up my foot and hit the hay. Right as I’m ready to part ways with Club Maria I notice Boy 8-Bit sitting at the very bar I had been ordering drinks from all night! My heart drops—I’m star struck. I walk over to him with Deirdre and greet him with a smile, handshake, and a “YOU KILLED IT! Can I get a picture with you?” Despite me interrupting a conversation he’s having with a girl, he happily obliges and my dreams come to fruition. We leave the club shortly after and I go to sleep a very happy (and slightly gimpy) man. The day following 8-Bit and Switch is spent lounging as we get our plans for London in order that evening. The next day is New Years Eve and we have a big day of traveling and big night of concrete cuttin’ to Calvin Harris, Deadmau5 and Justice ahead of us. Songs of Berlin: Florence + the Machine - Drumming Song (Boy 8-Bit Remix) Phonat - Learn to Recycle

Blogging Berlin (Above: Me & Ali in front of the Brandenburg Gate)

After being merrily greeted by Deirdre at the terminal in Berlin, we get in a cab and venture back to her place where Roxanna (another friend of mine, and D’s roommate) and D’s sister, Ali, are sleeping off a late night. I describe my time in Paris during our cab ride and she gives me some insight into what I should expect from Berlin. Her synopsis essentially amounts to pounding (techno) music, staying out until 6 am, and seeing some major monuments in world history. Sounds like fun—and drastically different from the mellow wine sipping evenings spent in Paris. I’m excited for the change, though; I’m excited to converse with friends who speak “my” English, and I’m excited for the live music to come.

The first night after my arrival—Christmas Eve—is spent at their very nicely decorated loft drinking German beer and playing various electro tracks from Deirdre’s MacBook. On Christmas day, after popping a few bottles of champagne and opening a couple presents, we go sightseeing in the city. Berlin is well decorated in its Christmas attire and it captures the traditional spirit well. We go to the Brandenburg Gate and walk through the Holocaust Memorial adjacent to the Gate. I quickly learn that Berlin has not forgotten—and doesn‘t wish to forget—the tragedy associated with the Holocaust; there are several memorials throughout the city and each is both creative and powerful. After our city tour we return to the girls’ loft and rest up for the evening. Going out to a club on Christmas night? That’ll be a first and at least we won‘t have to worry about crowds, right?

Our night begins with an extensive preparty featuring beats, Berliner bears (the four of us), and the modestly priced Ranch Wood Whiskey (unfortunately, no Battlestar Galactica). We end it on a high note and brave the 2 am cold to locate the club. After searching in a dark maze of brick buildings about two miles from their place, we come across a small red neon triangle the seems to represent the club’s entrance. As we approach the sign, the faint sound of a techno kick drum is heard. Deirdre and Roxy look at each other with smiles on their faces. Alright, we found it—let’s get inside before a German skinhead pops out from a dark corner with a weapon in hand. We enter the club and I’m immediately hit in the face with that same pounding techno kick drum. The place is crowded—it turns out Germans like to party no matter the day of the year—and a red glow from various ceiling lights fills the club. We peruse the place and are struck by its aesthetic structure: the building was likely part of an industrial sector of Berlin and after it was decommissioned it was then converted to a chic and tastefully assembled club. Despite the club being lit up red, overall, it lacks the trashy, dirty vibe that I had envisioned of a “German club.” We end up tearing up the dance floor until nearly 6 and get a cab back to the loft where we indulge in some much needed rest.

I wake up in the afternoon. I had been drinking water intermittently between Berliner beers and feel pretty good after a solid eight hour rest. The only thing on the itinerary for the day is to visit the only remaining part of the Berlin Wall, now called “The East Side Gallery”. Deirdre, Ali and I make the short walk over to the wall. When we get there, I’m immediately amazed by what’s on the wall: various established artists had recently been enlisted to paint over the wall with their own creations, hence the title “Gallery”. Some chose to give their interpretation of what the Wall signified and what the fall of it signified, while others created abstract portraits with seemingly no relation to the Wall whatsoever. As we walk the (approximately) mile long portion remaining, I attempt to decipher each image as we go along—some are straightforward, others are not—but I’m intrigued by each one. The entire experience is quite astounding.

The next couple of days are spent walking around Berlin and going out at night. Each of us are in great anticipation of the 29th, the night we are going to see Boy 8-Bit at a club a stones throw away from the loft. I’m especially excited—Boy 8-Bit has produced some of my favorite tracks of the last year.

The 29th finally arrives and I’m giddy with excitement. The day goes by and the night begins. We pre-party until nearly 1 and make the brief jaunt to the club Boy 8-Bit and DJ Switch (Diplo’s counter part in Major Lazer) are performing at. The set up of the club is real neat: big bar; relatively open with lots of space; good sound system; and it includes a comfortable lounging area for resting between dance sessions. Boy 8-Bit begins shortly after our arrival and I feel like a 12 year old girl at her first Justin Timberlake concert. He drops all the jams I want to hear. It’s perfect. I snap picture after picture as I bounce to the beat with Deirdre and Roxy by my side. Everything is wonderful. Then a bit of a screw ball comes my way. Somewhere near the end of his set I step on a piece of glass and it cuts right through the rubber of my shoe and goes into my foot. I immediately feel pain, which I know is a particularly bad thing considering how much I’ve had to drink, and I hobble over to the lounging area for a closer examination. There’s a hole in my sock and a circle of blood around it, but the injury is not life threatening. I limp to the bar and get a drink to attempt to ameliorate the pain—there is no way I‘m missing the rest of 8-Bit’s set. It works and I keep dancing while favoring my right foot by leaning against the railing adjacent to the front of the stage. Boy 8-Bit ends with his remix of “Drumming Song” by Florence & the Machine. I scream for an encore but it leads to no avail.

During DJ Switch’s set my energy begins to leave and I become slightly uninterested. I’m ready to go patch up my foot and hit the hay. Right as I’m ready to part ways with Club Maria I notice Boy 8-Bit sitting at the very bar I had been ordering drinks from all night! My heart drops—I’m star struck. I walk over to him with Deirdre and greet him with a smile, handshake, and a “YOU KILLED IT! Can I get a picture with you?” Despite me interrupting a conversation he’s having with a girl, he happily obliges and my dreams come to fruition. We leave the club shortly after and I go to sleep a very happy (and slightly gimpy) man.

The day following 8-Bit and Switch is spent lounging as we get our plans for London in order that evening. The next day is New Years Eve and we have a big day of traveling and big night of concrete cuttin’ to Calvin Harris, Deadmau5 and Justice ahead of us.

Songs of Berlin: Florence + the Machine - Drumming Song (Boy 8-Bit Remix)

Phonat - Learn to Recycle