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Dann Says: Turning The Heating On Already

Hi Beijing. How many sweaters are you wearing right now? One? Two? Twelve? Personally I have gone for the intergalactic dreamweaver look by draping a cape of reflective foil around my shoulders, like I imagine one would do if you’d just completed marathon on the moon. I’ve also being playing a pretty sweet space RPG called Endless Sky. It’s awesome if you like the idea of trading textiles and foodstuffs across the galaxy only to get easily blown to pieces by far superior spacecraft. Oh yeah, music, bars, social interactions, all the is going on too. Let’s talk about that for a bit.

Today is Wednesday and at DDC get your jazz on with, Japanese flavoured jazz, with the Satoshi Kataoka Jazz Trio from 8p.m. I’m excited. In other news have you ever wondered what kind of bathroom facilities the Millennium Falcon had? Do you think Han Solo and Chewbacca took showers together? I could totally see Solo passing that off as a water saving technique, but secretly there’s nothing more he loved than to lather up a dirty wookie in the depths of space.

Thursday, the only place you need to be is the most unproductive place in all of Beijing. The place that is a black hole of time, light, and money. The place were even Vulcans lose their cool and run around getting silly till the sun comes up. Yes my friends, Temple/DADA. It’s another edition of the Gulou Double Decker where Pangbianr and Livebeijingmusic double down and offer up a night that would give Buck Rogers a boner. Up at Temple it’s indie o’clock with The Paper Tigers, The Blue Moon and The Twenties. Set phasers to “fun”. Or “fry their goddamn eye balls out”. Your choice. Down in the Blade Runneresque dungeon of Dada get an earful of Charm,J Chan, Reaches (all the way from Chicago), Bit-Tuner (Switzerland) and Menghan. All of that from 9p.m to godknowswhen. Come and buy some Nasty Wizard tapes or Angry Mike will cut you.

Friday, another chance to catch our out-of-town guests, Reaches and Bit Tuner, this time in a more intimate setting at DDC under the Pangbianr banner. Get down the hutong and lap up those cosmic vibes from 8pm like Master Yoda tripping his tits off on some weird fungus he found in the swamp when he was taking a dump. Meanwhile at School Bar it’s Battlestar Galactica dry humping your face kind of awesome with CLICK # 15, The Power Powder, Chinese Modern Guys, Suzi Xu & Paramecia all getting their rawk on from 8p.m. And at Meridian Space you’re in the queue for something a little more left field with Gabriel Duceppe and Kipp the Menace from 9p.m. Kipp, seriously, what a menace indeed. Hiding in the shadows only to run out and pants someone and then shout “SLAM DUNK”. Rascal though and through.

Saturday, Caturday, first up on the agenda is another incarnation of the Nasty Wizard Kvlt (we’re busy this week) with Noise Arcade and DJ GUIGZ at 8-bit. It’s going to be a birthday bash for someone special to me but I think everyday at 8-bit is metaphorically like somebody’s birthday. I suggest a policy of Atari games as they had lots of space themed jams. Apparently it was because space is a pretty easy background to pull off. It’s just black with white dots. It doesn’t even move. True dat. Across town at the Murder Sky Lab there’s a showcase of out of town bands courtesy of Maybe Mars, featuring Dream Can, Naohai, and my old surf rock buddies from over the ocean, The Psyders from 8p.m. And the intergalactic ballet will play on School with Hang on the Box, Me Guan Me, Secret Club, and The Twenties from 8p.m. Somebody may get impregnated by an alien.

Sunday, wash your hands and regret the night before. Jesus might forgive you, but Buddha won’t .Ever. OK, first of all some serious questions to be answered: A Sudanese/American hip hop artist by the name of Oddisee is playing Yugong Yishan with Cha Cha in support... regular readers will know that Cha Cha is the name of my cat. Nobody asked me about this. I’m not happy. I asked my cat to come over and explain herself and as she can’t speak human languages she chose to jump on keyboard and type out her explanation. Here it is: ,,,cxcxk,,,,,,mw2qaA. Yep. Take from that what you will, I guess that’s her pitch for you to go see her support this Oddisee fellow. 9p.m start. Meanwhile my cat will be having nothing to do with the show over at Modern Sky Lab. Nope, that one is all about Boiled Hippo, The 16th Floor, The Twenties,and Solaris from 8p.m. Jesus, The Twenties are playing everything right now. Maybe they’re replicants or indie rock androids. Throw water on them and see if they short out. And School will be having an android free show with Last Choice, Silt & Lotus, Drunkard, Cigarette Butt, and Fangu, all from 8p.m.

Monday, nothing. Like at the edges of the universe, where it has yet to expand to. Nothing. Nothing at all. Tuesday, Yugong Yishan is hosting Honig and Jonas David, who are a big deal in the German indie folk scene. I don’t know much about the German indie folk scene, I just know about the warehouse full of half naked men violently thrusting their private parts in time to techno music scene. Maybe it’s the same thing? 8p.m start. And next Wednesday Temple is having a midweek indie blow out with Duan Pian, Spinning Glasshouse, and Wang Shi and Band from 9p.m. Bring a towel.

Drink long and prosper Beijing.

The sky boat shot towards the East, where the concrete grey clouds were growing darker and darker. Behind it muted flashes of orange bloomed in the distance, betraying the battle that still raged over the ruins of the Necropolis. he pig stood at the sky boat’s helm with his googles on, the wind causing his filthy robes to billow around him. He had one paw on the steering wheel, the other busily retrieving whole loaves of broad from a ration locker and shoving them into his mouth. He had dragged the locker from below deck up the stairs to the helm so that he would be able to eat and pilot the vessel at the same time.

Below deck the cat sat cross legged on top of a wooden box. The sky boat was only a small vessel designed for scouting and transportation. As a result it was neither equipped for long voyages or comfort. The cabin was no more than a store room for weapons and rations, cramped and low, the tips of the cat’s ears almost touching the ceiling. She held a small can of fish between her legs, delicately using her claws to pick out choice morsels which she leisurely delivered to her black lips. Besides her the hare lay on the floor. He had crawled in here earlier and wrapped himself in a scrap of regal purple sail that had been lying in the corner. The cat’s writing brush had lit the single candle in it’s holder that sat on the wooden planks next to the hare. Spluttering and flickering, it offered dim and shadowy illumination for the collection of crates and boxes that surrounded them.

The ship creaked and groaned, the engine rumbling away beneath the floor. Only the wooden planks and beams of the hull separated them from the roaring wind outside. The cat listened to these sounds as she swallowed her fish, her mind ticking over many an issue. She believed the hare was asleep, until his voice snaked out into the cold air, weak and shaky.

“His majesty won’t let this go.”

The cat looked up from her fish.

“He’s dead.”

She spoke in a languid fashion, adding, “I saw the cannon ball knock him right out of the sky.”

She could see the hare was shaking underneath the scrap of sail. Suddenly he sat up, throwing back the cover. His paws were thrust out rigidly in front of him, his eyes ablaze with the fires of insanity.

“His majesty cannot be struck from this mortal realm!” he shrieked. “He will follow you to the world’s end and then into the afterlife before he cuts out your eyes and eats your heart!”

The cat watched the deranged jackrabbit jabber on about his former captor, the Necro King, the Stalker Of Dreams, The Gatekeeper of The Night. She chewed methodically, her eyelids half closed as if with boredom.

“He can join the queue.” she said in an uninterested tone. The can now empty was tossed away into the shadows of the room. She shot the hare a glance that suggested she would say no more on the matter and he fell backwards, rolling over and over, wrapping himself in the scrap of sail like a hare burrito, all the while excitedly muttering nonsense to himself.

“...that candy cane is going to be melting off that alligator’s tits tonight...his majesty said so...and the spice must flow...even if the water does not...yes, his majesty said so rightly...”

The cat jumped down off the box and snarled at the trembling little wretch in the candlelight. She swallowed her venom and did her best to speak in a neutral tone.

“Get some rest. Once we get to the Towers of Glass I need your mind and paws to be working.”

The hare didn’t reply, instead curling into a ball beneath his cover. The cat pushed upon the flimsy door, letting in a roar of rushing wind that blew out the candle. She ascended the steep set of steps to the deck, letting the door slam shut behind her. The hare was left shivering in the darkness.

Outside the wind flattened the cat’s striped fur against her face, sweeping back her ears and whiskers. She could see nether the ground nor the sky, all around thick clouds that grew darker by the minute. She could barely even see the spinning propellers on the starboard side. Electric orbs hung on lines running off the mast, swinging violently in the blasting wind, painting the deck in their lurid purple light. The pig was still at the helm, still busily stuffing his face and staring into the abyss. The cat ascended the stairs to the helm, gripping onto the heavy wooden banister for fear of being blown overboard. She came up alongside the pig, gripping the railing with one paw and holding her cloak shut with the other.

“I heard shouting from below. Everything okey dokey dearest?”

The pig bellowed through a mouthful of bread without taking his eyes off of the cloud they were presently plunging into. The cat said nothing. In turn the pig began to cackle into the wind, breadcrumbs being carried away into the murky beginnings of the night. The cat waited for his laughter to die away before she spoke.

“How far do you think this thing can take us?”

The pig shook his head and stuffed another loaf into his maw,proceeding to reply as he chewed.

“Nog faa. Maa bee cloe enuff to da towarsss.”

“There’s no way we can get any further?”

The pig shook his head again, swallowed, and this time leaned his head closer to the cat to speak.

“Not without feeding from one of those big boats we left back at the Necropolis. They hold all the juice, boats like this just drink it.”

The cat walked away without saying a word. She went back down the stairs and left the pig to his ongoing meal. She wrapped her cloak around her a little bit tighter and walked towards the bow, head down, battling against the rushing winds. With her back to pig and the hare below deck she let the sternness escape her face, replacing it with a wide eyed anxiety. She needed the hare if she wished to ride the Great Bone Road. She hadn’t bargained on him being broken, unable to do anything beside gabber about ghosts and demons. If they couldn’t take the Bone Road who knew how long it might take them to cross to the pit? Too long was of course the answer. If the boat could take them the whole way she could throw the hare overboard now if she willed it, but that wasn’t an option. Despite how weak and feeble the rabbit was she needed him and that made her weak and feeble too now. Reaching the end of the bow she looked into the blinding wind, the swirling oblivion of the clouds and let out a low moan. She felt the writing brush start to shake violently beneath her cloak. The wind swept her cloak open and she saw the writing brush clipped to her belt, violently writhing away, trying to break free, it’s tip glowing red with the light of an infernal ember that even the rushing winds couldn’t extinguish. The cat gulped hard.