A little while ago, I finished a short story. It was for a course I was taking on creative writing, which I had abandoned for reasons of limited inspiration around 5 years ago. And now I have a short story, which also has a playlist.
It’s just sitting on my desktop. Why? Because I don’t want people to say it sucks. Yet, now, it has been read by one single person and the course members who reviewed it. So it has literally a readership of about 4 people and that is just… Well, a waste of a good amount of hours. Obviously, I also have a thesis flying about the internet (recently for sale on Amazon even), but that’s less… sensitive for me.
So, here it is. Please read it and tell me what you think. I created a playlist too, because some people may frown at the mention of bands like Ulver, The Angelic Process or other doomy stuff. Maybe they are weird choices, but for me this was a process of conveying experiences and emotions to a story, where they are disconnected through iterations from my own life. Yet, for me, there are clear lines between the story and my surroundings. So, I decided to put this on here and hope people read it, because I’d rather have that someone enjoyed it even a little and still told me it sucks, than have this on my desktop for eternity.
Every year, I try to look ahead to Roadburn. I go there and I try to see everything I want and more and the more the festival grows, the more I hate to mess stuff. Why? Is seeing 15 bands on one day not enough? I guess not if you take the Roadburn magic into account. Because if there’s one thing that simply doesn’t mellow it’s my feeling of awe and wonder every year again. Continue reading Roadburn time is my favorite time→
Another year comes to a close and that means lists. I never really get excited when the prospect comes around because a list is never as complete as you’d want it to be. In a way, it’s a moments recollection of all the good music that came by in the past year. Still, it’s important to look back and share with the world what it might have missed otherwise.
I can mention a load of bands I would gladly have included here. For example, I didn’t really get around to listen properly to Enslaved and Converge’s new records and I had to chose to omit the likes of Power Trip, Akercocke, and Pillorian. Oh, and Dool came to me in a big way. Well, you can’t have it all, but here is the list as it is:
I would also like to express thanks to the labels that have kindly supplied me with promo materials and support for realizing my goals. In particular thanks to Transcending Obscurity and Qabar Extreme Music PR. Also, thanks to Echoes & Dust for lending weight to my 195 bands project, by publishing these interviews.
May 2018 be a great year in music again. Live long and prosper.
Last august I went to the Ardennes for a climbing course. The course took from friday until sunday and if all went well I’d receive my Toprope Certificate from the NKBV (Dutch climbing association). It was an amazing experience, overcoming fears both on the wall and in my head.
I often ask myself why I actually climb. I’m not particularly talented and I have a fear of heights that isn’t easily subdued. Going on this weekend brought the additional fear with it of taking my CPAP device on the road with me for the very first time. What would people think about that and would I be able to live up to my high standard of quality climbing?
Teaming up
Luckily I didn’t have to face this alone. One of my oldest and best friends is a true athlete and his presence always has a calming effect on me. Sure, I seem to like the weak one in this collaboration, but who really cares. We met up in the Ardennes with the rest of the crew. Three ladies and us two would be trained by Andries and Harry. Andries is a full pro, who does this as a freelancer with his company ZelanOutdoor. He’s a sports teacher too, so he has that sensitivity to peoples feelings and vibe. Harry is an old school climber with a bag full of stories. In between the two, we had an interesting mix of knowledge, expertise and passion.
We got to know each other a little and then went to practice and learn some theory about the climbing due to the heavy rains coming down all the time. When we finally did get to go out, we could try a little bit of climbing and some abseiling. After one attempted ascent the clouds broke and after having holed up in a cave for a bit, we dashed back to the Tukhut (an NKBV owned establishment for mountain bikers, hikers and climbers). I didn’t make it dry and a wet pair of shoes would be my penalty for the next two days.
Running into walls
Surprisingly the team was very nice about my device and actually complimented me on the soundlessness. This was very pleasant and bolstered my travel lust for the future. I felt quite comfortable when we headed out to hit some walls in Hotton. There are some low-level routes that can be pure fun to climb, but also some harder material. After getting our toes in the water on some easy warm-up routes, we felt ready for the big work and the group split in two. Part of the team went climbing some easier, shorter routes. Climbing levels differ and clearly the trainers knew how to deal with that.
We went climbing some more complex routes and… I choked. While climbing a steep chimney with small grips the fear took hold of me after a few slips (there’d been some downpour and water was still pooled up in some cracks). With just some slim holds and mostly using body pressure to go up I got hold of a small jug but completely lost my cool. Disappointed and angry I went down. On the next route, I successfully jammed my hand in cracks to pull myself up, pushing some new techniques, but my body had cramped up and my wrists were very painful. I let myself down. I was ashamed and I connected this to everything else raging around in my head.
Mental walls
While climbing I was thinking of my new job I’d start on Monday. I also thought of the choice to not pursue studies this September, what was my original plan. Thinking of the 2 months of mental turmoil I’d been suffering through since I received my CPAP therapy (more about that here) filled my head. Because of that I crashed and burned. Later I fought myself through an easier pitch, but that hardly cheered me up.
Trainer Andries took me aside when we arrived back at the hut and asked me if I was ok. I sort of muttered and stuttered my disappointment and how much I had hanging on those few climbs. On my back I carried my worries, so I was climbing with a mental pack. Not sure how, but he made me feel a bit better. We had dinner, some drinks and then it was time for a good night sleep.
First ascent
I’ve climbed a lot in recent years, but some climbs matter more. We went back to the same walls the next day. It was the last day of the weekend and I needed to redeem myself. Humbled and more focused we started to climb. Halfway up the longest route, full of great grips I started to sing to myself. My head emptied out and I felt the pure bliss of hitting the rock. Every thought was followed by a movement. Every limb in harmony with the others, one by one I ascended the wall.
The next climb was a tricky start with some hidden pockets, but smooth sailing up to the top. I asked Andries to help me lose my fear of falling and he did. Falling is scary, it’s a moment of complete panic and submission to the elements. It’s toprope though and in fractions of seconds, you’re securely hanging on your harness. It’s about trust in your partner and knowing what happens.
Harder, Higher, Heavier
Then we went to the tougher stuff. I joked a bit at the start of a tricky route. It went up in a crack between the rock wall and an outstanding slab that stuck up int he sky like a monolithic tower. With trepidation, I started the climb and on my way to the top, a change came over me. I stopped being afraid, this was comfortable climbing. This was up my sleeve and within my comfort levels. I could do this one without any problem!
And then I got to the last problem, to get myself on the top of the tower, where I’d be standing with only the wind and a wall to lean against. My rope had turned three times and fearlessly I looped it around myself once, twice and thrice. As I gazed out over the tree tops and the beautiful region, I felt completely at peace. I was free, not just of my worries, but of my fear of the fall. This was my first ascent and I had just completely fallen in love with climbing. I took a deep breath and started my descent.
Epilogue
I climbed another hard route full of confidence after that. Hard is a relative term. I’m no Alex Honnold or Chris Sharma, nor will I ever be. But I’ve started to love climbing with a passion. I fall regularly now, usually while trying more tricky 5+ routes or 6a’s (French ranking system). I’m doing lead climbing too now, but the fear of falling returns. There’s always the next leap.
I’ve been wanting to write this post for a while now, because I think I need to share things. A year ago I was in a swamp. I was depressed, tired and stressed out. Right now I feel more energetic and driven than ever. I’m shedding weight (not gaining hair unfortunately). I want to share what happened, because writing is therapy… though not always is it easy.
Dreaming is a luxury,
Like stopping-staring and beauty sleep.
I’ll stop when I’m finished,
And sleep is for the weak.
Frank Turner, ‘Vital Signs’
Sleep…
At work I felt I was completely stuck. I didn’t have the energy for anything, couldn’t face any conflicts and genuinely was terribly unhappy in the place I was at. Years of conversations with people that had the best intentions for me didn’t seem to yield much and though I learned a lot I remained stuck. I decided to pursue a teachers degree. It seemed a good idea at the time and a way out of what I thought was a dead-end street, a proverbial rope to drag myself from the swamp.
I started having pain in my arms and after various consultations with the doctor, I received some braces for what must be Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. Right, that seemed logical… I had overworked my hands in combination with stress and weight gain and that was probably the issue. I went to see a company doctor, I talked to a psychologist, the whole shebang. Some told me that it might be deeper, others told me to worry less. I decided that it must be the environment and that I needed something new. I was very wrong about what I thought was the problem.
I didn’t sleep… Well, not in the sense where you get a full nights rest. What I have is called obstructive sleep apnea, which basically means that I stop breathing in my sleep and then wake up slightly… sink back into sleep, stop breathing and wake up again…and so on. So what are some of the effects and causes for sleep apnea.
Apnea
Some of the effects of apnea that I experienced are the following:
Exhaustion
Problems with building up a condition
Pains and other random complains
Depression
Mood swings
Forgetfulness
Headaches
Anxieties
Weight gain
In the long run you can even get damage to your intestines, like your liver and heart because the body simply doesn’t get the rest it needs. There is an extensive list of causes and they’re not things you can easily ‘handle’.
So why didn’t anyone find this out years ago (I might have suffered from this for 15 years or more)? Because like most people around me, I thought snoring was simply that… snoring. I never connected it to anything health related. I wouldn’t have even found out if it wasn’t for the work-related stress, which combined with weight gain to make matters worse. The basic cause for my issue is genetic, which is unfortunate since I have quite a severe version of apnea.
A solution and a different self?
It’s weird, the thing that happens when you suddenly get a rush of energy. When you sleep through a whole night again and wake up refreshed and full of spirit. That’s what happened to me when I got a CPAP machine. The machine operates at night, with a face mask, and pushes air through my nose and keeps it open so I breathe. I breathe and sleep deep sleep. I’m now like a resting Darth Vader (better try to see the fun in things right?).
And then I started to work out again. Not like before, where I was dragging my weary body all the way to the gym. No, I train with energy and drive again. My muscles are sore the next day, not just tired. That was also a new experience, to feel physically well. So what next? I get to revisit pretty much every decision and feeling I had. My habits are in a clash with my mental state, which is hard and exhausting, but exhilerating at the same time. I don’t feel the need to keep people on an arm’s length, but my behaviour isn’t easily changed. I don’t want to think doom, but my mind is so used to that road. Changing is going to be a challenge, but as I get my rest I’m not worried.
So what the hell do I do with this info?
I have to live with a machine pumping air into my throat for the foreseeable future. If I travel, I need to specially contact the charter company to discuss this and sleeping in a tent is no longer a real option. I hope to get healthier and qualify for a brand new treatment later, but it’s all good. The feeling of being well I would not trade for anything in the world… I feel the energy to pursue my dreams now.
I want to write. I want to write professionally every day, because it is what I love. The shaping of text, the creation of content. That is the dream I pursue now. And I’m very grateful for the fact that I can do that with all my energy and heart.
If you recognize any of these symptoms, if you do snore, get it checked out. There’s a huge taboo on the whole snoring thing. It’s embarrassing and annoying to have to cope with that in itself. There’s a solution though and it has its downsides, but they are outweighed by the good. Get this checked out!
On this years Kilkim Žaibu festival I saw the group RomoweRikoito play live and it touched a nerve in me. Almost with tears in my eyes I listened to their captivating folk songs. I would like to talk a bit about that here.
Last words
Language, it’s a peculiar thing and often too easily put aside as something irrelevant. Language is a tool, we use almost daily in a peculiar manner and it is shaped by the peculiarities of our daily lives. I never reallly realized the importance of language, I have to say, untill later in my life, after I read a peculiar story.
In a school book, not sue for which subject, I read about a place called Sakhalin. A peninsula on the far side of Russia, At some point in time, I think it was around the year 1900, researchers went there to meet the last speakers of a regional language. They recorded these speakers on wax rolls (that was the thing way before records). So there was some form of preservation, but a while later those last speakers had all passed and at that point we call a language extinct. Peculiar, is it not?
The disappearance of a people
There’s something so incredibly sad to me about that story. There were people there, with a language, culture and history. With the end of their language all of that is gone, it has passed away with the last words. When a language dies, a bit of our humanity dies… that’s the way I see it. No one remembers the words and the lives of those people.
It seems like something from the past, but even in Europe languages die. The Livonian language has about 10 speakers left they estimate. Tsakonian (a Greek dialect) is almost gone and Prussian (an old Baltic language) only exists because some stubborn ethnic Prussians try to revive it. One Saami language will probably be extinct as well in 50 years (Pite Saami has 20-40 speakers left). Outside of Europe, the Yaghan language of the most southern part of Chile has one speaker left, who is 89. The language is an isolated form, so nothing will be left soon. There’s a few more examples and luckily most are documented now… Still, something ends.
Our words are very precious, they are shaped by the way we live and how we interact in our culture and part of the world. Our language is our testament to whoever comes after. I think we should cherish it more. English is great, I write in that language to reach more people. But that shouldn’t become our only tongue. We’ve lost so much already of who we are.
So no language is better than the other, but every language is owned by the people who speak it. It’s a part of you, of who you are and where you come from. That matters.
This is in no way intended to support any political agenda’s.
For this year’s Weirdo Canyon Dispatch I intend to describe that Roadburn feeling. Because we all know perfectly well that something special happens when the banners are up around 013 and strange visitors from far and wide converge upon Tilburg. It’s something peculiar that no other festival has, it makes our eyes and ears open just a bit wider. At the same time you feel that craving for the surprises this year’s festival will offer.
This craving stays with you for three or even four days (and if it’s three you always wish it was four). You approach every venue with an urgency, anxiously check your program where to go next and need to taste as much as possible from the line-up. Others just need to be in the vicinity of the venue, standing in the Weirdo Canyon in front of 013. It’s something special in the air (and I’m not talking about particular fumes that cloud the air during those days). A special feeling of warmth and welcome.
It’s because you know that you’re about to be treated to a buffet of great music. Hand-picked by people who want to share those great artists and sounds with you and have you experience them at their best. Not to rip you of, but to share that joyous event. That creates an enormous pile of trust and love, because it’s like Christmas for us fans. It’s why we come back every year. If we somehow become detached and stop going, we still feel like we need to apologise and explain why and how. That’s that special Roadburn feeling when I completely trust in Walter and his crew to take the best possible care of my musical desires for four days. It’s why I come back, every time.
In a short series of preview articles, I intend to get ready for Roadburn2017. Visiting Roadburn is a bit like a pilgrimage to me, a particular sort of reverie, which I intend to express in three articles dealing with the unknown, the world and the self. Written by a fan.
Roadburn is a gathering, an exchange of ideas if you will. Regardles of your own outlook, the open mind attitude that comes with Roadburn means an influx of new thoughts, ideas and concepts. A forest of new impulses, that always leaves me lost for a few days, realligning myself.
Agreed aesthetic is embedded so I’ll shatter that
Impaired vision like the world got cataracts
Endured attacks on all fronts, now we pushing back
Aligned thoughts to outflank how they counteract
– Dalek, ‘Shattered’
Into the woods: Sharing, exchanging and interacting
The great attraction of Roadburn is that it is simply more than just a festival. Roadburn is a microcosmos of people, who share their love for music. That doesn’t mean they’re all cut from the same cloth and neither are the bands. There’s a lot of variation in ideas, messages and content to the bands and visitors of the festival. No band playing at Roadburn is playing their music, just to ‘rock out’. This is music we love for its meaning, whether its spiritual like Amenra, cathartic like My Dying Bride or simply confrontational like Integrity.
As a visitor I don’t just want to hear, I want to feel. I want to truly feel spoken to, adressed and shaken by what I hear and experience. I want to be moved by the experiences I have and therefor grow in my own view of the world. Roadburn is an international gathering, which means that not just bands bring a distinct flavor with them to the 013 venue, the Cul de Sac and the Patronaat. It’s the people, the art, the songs and conversations over food, drinks and cigarettes that make up the magical exchange of ideas that is Roadburn.
Drifting around Roadburn
I’ve had my hare of fascinating conversations over time and it makes for that absolutely amazing experience. But with little time to spare and many bands to see, you can just wander around in the Weirdo Canyon like a situationist drifter and experience whatever sonic experience you arrive at. From the atmospheric black metal of Ashborer to the post-punk of Alaric and the dark country of Those Poor Bastards, you just drift around from the start. Stay while you enjoy it, look further if you are looking for something else.
It’s a grand way to experience the festival, but don’t forget to take those little bits of ideas, concepts and thoughts with you. Keep them close and revisit them when you have a moment of reflection afterwards. Roadburn gives you lots of new things, don’t waste them. Sometimes getting a bit lost is not so bad at all.
In a short series of preview articles, I intend to get ready for Roadburn2017. Visiting Roadburn is a bit like a pilgrimage to me, a particular sort of reverie, which I intend to express in three articles dealing with the unknown, the world and the self. Written by a fan.
Roadburn is like a different cosmos, it takes you away for a bit. That’s what this part is about:
Leave the earth to Satan and his slaves
Leave them to their future in their grave
Make a home where love is there to stay
Peace and happiness in every day
– Black Sabbath, ‘Into The Void’
Into the Void: Meeting the unknown
Festivals can be memorable for many reasons, from that one magical show to the fun you had sitting outside with (new found) friends and sharing a drink. Roadburn is for most people all about the music, the scene and the experience. Though not limited to a scene, you instantly know what you’re getting when a band is on the time schedule during Roadburn. Whether it’s Deafheaven playing, Gnod or Bongzilla or even Coven, it’s all fitting in the bigger picture.
For outsiders, it may not make any sense to hear ‘That’s a typical Roadburn band’. It doesn’t mean it’s a black metal band, stoner group or folk ensemble, it might mean anything musically in fact. But to me it means something special, it means I should hear this band, because it fits in this special universe that is Roadburn. Obviously I enjoy seeing my favorite bands during the festival, but the most magical is just drifting around experiencing bands I don’t particularly know and just immerse myself in that sound. Immersion, that’s the key word for Roadburn universe.
In this all of emptiness.
Time will no longer be.
The cosmic certain property.
Of past, now and eternity.
– Mysticum, ‘All Must End’
The joy of Roadburn immersion
There’s something in the air during Roadburn and Roadburn is everywhere once you enter the Weirdo Canyon. From continuous program with talks, bands and listening sessions to the artwork hanging throughout 013. It’s entering a different place and completely immersing yourself in the festival that is the most wonderful part of it.
You never know what to expect and like every year, you’re constantly surprised by that element of the festival. It changes you as a visitor into a sponge, trying to soak up all the elements the festival has to offer. All senses gat their fill, but it’s the mind that is completely satisfied during four days of Roadburn with a completely overwhelming experience in a different universe. So, I can’t wait to just jump in that black hole and see what’s on the other side.
Ride the dragon toward the crimson eye
Flap the wings under Mars red sky…
‘Cause better times are coming
Better times ahead
No-one gets remembered, my deathless child
So don’t rest too long in bed.
– Frank Turner, ‘Peggy Sang The Blues’
It’s been a hard, long road, but in a few months I finally cut loose the strains of the past and embrace my new challenge. It’s going to be hard work, it’ll be scary and it probably won’t be easy. It still beats the dead-end-rut I found myself in about 2 years ago. In a job I didn’t want, with a future that terrified me and no idea what to do about it.
I spend this weekend in Bulgaria, visiting the city of Sofia and I had a chance to speak to some absolute strangers. I saw a new country, with nothing but my backpack full of clothes and books and my wits about me. It’s all I need to feel completely free for once again, to feel the strength within. Standing somewhere between the mountains, looking at the might of nature, I feel better than I’ve done for a long time.
I’m leaving the rat race, where insecurity is a drive for trying to dominate and outdo the other for a different challenge, a different path. I’ve not eaten meat in a week now and that feels so much better too. I’m not where I want to be yet, but atleast I know where I’m going and not going down with the ship of misery. Sometimes you just need to see the clouds and the trees again, to start believing in it once more.
There’s not that much that I need, there’s enough music in the world to sustaiin me and plenty of books I still need to read. I’ve woken up depressed, tired and desperate enough times now. Enough time spend thinking about life, time to live it. Let’s see how far we can truly go.
I’ve got a plan and a brand new backpack. It’s about the journey. Isn’t it?