The Swiss Chalet is Burning Down

The Swiss delegation was in town to tear down some major dancefloor bizness yesterday.  It all continues 2 nite @ I Love Neon but that's another story, really.  So at Parking, things were looking good, with Water Lilly & Plastique de Rêve rockin' it up.

I had an ordinary day at school, and then at work; good exam results, reading the Mirror during the teacher's mathematical deliriums, and then calls from idiots who have no life.  By the time I got home, it was already late, and I cooked my supper while listening to Chris Duckenfield's "Bad Acid", dancing alone in my kitchen.

After a quick shower, I was joined by my new GF, Miss Bijoux, and shortly afterwards by Mr. Bérêt & "My Crazy Ex".  We proceeded to drink up some vodka while chatting around.  At 11:30, we left the house.

There were the usual weirdos on the dancefloor, and tons of people I knew, which was pretty strange.  I couldn't talk to somebody for a minute before a tap on my shoulder made me turn around to greet yet another "long time no see" buddy (or chickie).  I ran into a guy from which I stole a girlfriend in '98; I ran into this very ex a few minutes afterwards.  Both I hadn't seen for ages.  Both unaware of the fact that they were sweating on the same dancefloor.

Water Lilly looked anguished, her strange nose & raven gothic black hair in the spotlight; her set was OK, pumping, but not very feminine, as LetNoManJack would say.  The Prof himself wasn't so jocky, wearing no cap !

Plastique de Rêve was an acid lover's dream, with an amazing set of "just hard enough" electro that kept the crowd asking for more.  Knowing I'd hear him extensively tonight at Neon, I left early with Miss Bijoux, but not early enought it would seem, as I was completely unable to get out of my bed this morning.  Sweets.

Jordan Dare @ Parking

I had a feeling I shouldn't go out. But another tiny voice kept on telling me that I shouldn't give up and go anyway. I came back from work and I was really tired. My autite & cold were dragging me towards my bed. After supper, I lay down and began watching "Sin City".

I ended up finishing it and it was already 11 PM. Nobody phoned me to say they'd go to Parking so I was about ready to give up. Then Mr. Moto called and I told him I wasn't too sure about going out. I hadn't slept, and was on the verge of collapsing. I thought about the girls supposed to be there with regret. Miss Bijoux in particular.

Then Mr. Bérêt called me and told me to come on over. I couldn't refuse since he told me he'd pay for my vodka / Guru's. So I took a shower and drove in the rain for a few street corners. My pass got me in for free. It wasn't jam packed, and I was pleased. I like to move it, move it.

I spotted various friends around the place.

The evening went by as normal, with not many cute chicks, and I photographed a nurse's big booty. Jordan Dare played his usual set with good results, and I finally saw Miss Bijoux in front of the booth, dancing alone.

Don't know what happened, really, but we started chatting and it hit me. Crush. Coup de foudre. Whatever the hell that was. I offered a ride home at the end of the night and we just drove in the rain, her knees popping out under her skirt, her smile so nice & warm. We were in Villeray when she told me she didn't feel like going home. I turned around & went back downtown and decided it was high time to abduct her.

She stayed in my crib until this very morning, which is amazing, and I'm retiring from pornography. My sex anthropology will resume here. No more adventures for the moment. I'll keep you posted on various interesting events, tho, and the spice of life will continue to burn deep in my heart, producing absolutely no smoke.

Backpackers Ate my Balls

It's raining in heaven. If, of course, you consider Montreal to be heaven. Which I do. My friend LetNoManJock is in Northern Ontario right now and has just reported, in my inbox, that it's fuckin' SNOWING over there. I cannot stress enough times how much I am SO. NOT. LOOKING. FORWARD. TO. THAT. HERE.

I've had a bit enough of that kinda weather here. Because it means people start lacking civism amont the living. When it rains, like Chris Corda says, people are packin' up in abribus. They smoke and they try to pierce your eyes with their fuckin' umbrellas. They rub their soaked back packs against you. They can't see shit with their hoodies on. The worst is in the bus, for back packs. I really wish this "accessory" would disappear from the global scene. It's impossible to look good with that shit on. I mean... what the fuck are you carrying that requires you to hang around with that ugly piece of nylon around your shoulders ? You dress all swell and you can't even backpack-match ? How do you expect to color match such an horror ?

All this to say, get rid of your horrible backpack, stop trying to poke my eyes with your umbrella frame and watch where the fuck you're going. Thank you.

*

It was a friend's friend's birthday on Tuesday and I invited myself over to spin. Mhotel has changed owners and is now called the Passage or something like that. They had Technics 1200 but no needles. The place is really classy and interesting, and the DJ booth is oddly located just front of the entrance, so you can spin & greet all at once. And drink.

So I drank a couple of Rev before going, just to get myself "in the mood". As I was setting up my shit, people started pouring in and I started rockin' the floor. Not too much, because they still haven't installed their double windows and the folks on Rachel St are whiny, but still, it was pretty decent.

The new owners were so thrilled to see their place half filled that they made an incredible row of shooters for us to drink.

Mr. Moto showed up with Mr. Hairdresser, and Miss Glass came as well, plus lots of other fun friends such as Mr. Dead Cat and his lil' bro. There was this girl I've been running after for about six months, and she was pretty friendly for once !

We migrated to Cabaret à Mado around 1:30 and I let her drive my car since I was drunk from the numerous gin tonics people paid me. She was impressed. Cabaret was half packed, with cheap dance music blasting loud and 17 years old girls from the 450 area code dancing their asses off. I danced onstage to "Mr. Vain"... and got tired fast. I had to wake up really early the following morning for a course I have at UQAM with this crazy dude from Cameroun.

I said goodbye to everybody, and fuckin' went to sleep.

Kaskade @ Parking

Be grateful for what you have. That's what I told myself on Sunday. I went to record a mix at Yafi's place and when we were done, I rushed to my mom's place in the suburbs for an infamous, ultra-satisfying free meal. Coquille St-Jacques, filet mignon & a succulent salad. After the beer, the potatoes, the black olives, the cheese, the brocoli, the citrus pie & the coffee, I was ready to burst.

I picked up Mr. Finances at his folk's place on the way back to the island - he had the same idea as me - and we stopped by the SAQ to get a 26 ounces bottle of Vodka & a pack of blue Rev. They're so retarded at the Village's SAQ that they don't know how to stock shit. On the way to the dépanneur on Rachel St, at a red light, some girl in a sexy skirt & fuck me boots started chasing my car. It was Miss Kindergarten, who was going to have a drink at Sofa. We chatted a bit and she told me she'd call my place later on.

We entered the dépanneur & saw some "new" energy drinks with alcool, namely Mojo & Johnny Bootlegger. We bought a bottle of every new flavor to "try 'em out" like the real alcohol cowboys we are. And we went home to pop a couple of 'em open.

*

The breakdown :

-Johnny Bootlegger : 12% alcohol via some doubtful "malt liquor". Isn't that shit supposed to be forbidden elsewhere than in SAQ's ? Anyway... the taste was kinda harsh. We tried the "melon" one and had to fight over who'd finish the bottle.

-Mojo : that's actually cider with extra guarana ! Can't be bad, no ? Well... half. You get used to the taste but the first gulp isn't so great. The blue one is the worst. The red one is OK, and the green one's the best. There ain't no blue apples, I knew it !

-Blue Rev : still the fuckin' winner.

*

We were horribly drunk after a while. We were listening to the mix I had just recorded and started dancing in my living room like idiots. Mr. Dead Cat showed up unannounced and had a beer. We left for Roy Bar around midnight.

A common friend of ours was preparing to leave for Marseilles, and was having an adios party where Étienne Côté-Paluck & the crazy nasty St-Jäacques were spinning. We didn't stay very long, because I just wanted to make "acte de présence" and see if there were any cute chicks. Apart from that big-breasted nurse, nobody. Too bad.

We arrived at Parking around peaktime, as everybody was on the floor. There were lots of shirtless guys. The music was OK but not enough to keep me dancing all night. Truth is, I think I was pretty dead. I wasn't really in the mood, in fact. Miss Photo popped out of nowhere with her DFA earrings and we danced a bit. A girl from Frigid's night, downstairs, came up and gave me some passes for the Overdose night. We went down to see what was happening, and it was kinda boring.

We left to realise that it was fuckin' cold outside. My polo was wet from the sweat and I got a cold. Mr. Finances wanted to go to Stereo but I was pretty dead. We went to eat a club sandwich at Rapido where we encountered various drunk weirdos and an impressive choice of pretty girls. The night ended like our saggy poutine, bathing in cheese icebergs sailing the sea of cold sauce.

Blow Up @ SAT

While DJ Diva Turd was preparing to rock Montreal for the Black & Blue week-end, something else was planned at SAT as the Lipstick record label had set up another fine Blow Up evening. Jacob Asher, Pascal B, Nivoc & Véga were on the decks, and there was kinda no way I was going to miss this.

Mister Finances didn't want to come over for the week-end, claiming he had to sleep & was broke. But our planned week-end was a "budget" one. So of course he came over, and dropped at my place around 10. We drank wine and left my place around midnight. The sky was pissing rain. We stopped by the Couche-Tard on De Maisonneuve, near Berri, so I could get a Guru, and when I got back in my car some girls next to us were honking in theirs. We rolled down the window to see what the fuck they wanted and they asked us if we were from around here. They claimed Mister Finances had an exotic look. The light got green before we could finish this "conversation" and I hit the gas pedal before these crazies could follow us. I mean what the hell !?

We found a nice parking spot not too far from SAT, and ran inside. Doctor Bonobo was already inside, and Mr. Moto got there with his cougar a few seconds after us. Some people were not used to the concept of a vestiaire so a couple of incredible songs played while we were waiting for them to get used to it. Some fucker with an umbrella was trying to grab the locker girl's attention for what seemed like an eternity.

Fat Phase's "It's Magic", remixed by Lottie & Serge Santiago, came on. Then the same Santiago's "Adventures in Failure", and then Kiko's "Come on up". I was pissed. We finally managed to get in. Lots of nice chicks were there. I saw Miss Nurse run in the rain while standing in the bathroom's line-up. Mr. Moto snuck in a full glass of pure vodka and we started spicing up our energy drinks. Mayhem ensued.

Some girl from New Brunswick started flirting with Mr. Finances. There was a DJ switch. I don't know who took control of the decks but he put Gorillaz' "Dare", remixed by Soulwax, but chose the sucky instrumental version. The King Roc's "Prime Evil", once again without Marc Almond's vocals. What the !? Then Mylo's remix of Freeform Five's "No More Conversations". At one point Tiga's remix of "Washing Up" made its appearance in the mix (of course) and was followed by Vitalic's "You Prefer Cocaine". Holy fuck, did I dance like a machine.

Towards the end the mayor's daughter arrived (fashionably late, as always) and announced that there was a loft party at 1000 St-Dominique. I was kinda tired so I went to Club Sandwich with the girl from NB and Mister Finances, and we ate poutine. I fell asleep immediately after landing in my bed.

Sur ton Visage in St-Henri

The kids are alright. It was all happening @ Bistrot Va-et-Vient yesterday. Omnikrom & Gatineau were supposed to set the place on fire. Gatineau never received that much praise or attention : there was a feature article in Montreal's Ici & Voir, as well as several mentions that it was THE show to see on this typical october Montreal evening.

The problem, according to my p'tit doigt, being that St-Henri is fuckin' far from the rest of humanity, and that 12$ to get in is a bit too much to shell out for the entrance fees when you're not Jesus fuckin' Christ Superstar. Gatineau's audience is young, and poor, and the guest list was longer than any fat guy's grocery list that evening. They didn't make the big bucks out of the boys, let's say.

So... everybody was pissed that the place was half empty. It was intimate, it was surreal. Brutall promised me I'd like the part where he appears. He told me that the guys from Malajube as well as The Hot Springs were coming over.

One of the guy from Omnikrom (the small guy with the beer belly) had the greatest girlfriend ever. Black haired vixen. Too bad she's taken.

So the show went nice. Omnikrom's official security guy, Jean-Bar(re ?), had a cold. He looked pissed. They made scat jokes. Gatineau came on after much "waiting for more people to show up". I was having fun with Miss Mile End, and drank two pints. During Gatineau I was taking pictures, and this cute little blonde chick started smiling at me. We chit chatted a bit and when Brutall arrived on stage for his Mc Brutall routine dressed only in his cagoule & some brown underwear, it was a riot. However, at the end of the show, the girl went sitting with a ponytailed Dungeons & Dragons player and she never even looked at me afterwards. I was disappointed.

I was describing to a young chick how much I was disappointed when a girl came to Brutall to tell him how much she loved the show. I took her picture and said : "I'll add this to your groupies scrapbook !".

She came to me saying she wasn't very photogenic - tho she seemingly was cute - and we started talking. She works in a kindergarten. She told me she had nice breasts and nice shoulders, and I wanted to see. We joked & the body language book was easy to read. So we decided to go some other place to have a drink. However, I had some people to give rides to, and there wasn't enough place left in my bollide for her friend & her.

It dragged on so much that I decided to leave. I took Miss Mile End & Brutall's friend home and on our way we passed in front of Miss Kindergarten & her friend, and I stopped by to ask them what they were doing. They were looking for a cab to go to Edgar Hypertaverne. I told them I'd see them over there.

I arrived in front of the place and found a parking spot, and sat on a bench to wait for them. I waited & waited... and finally, as I was about to leave, they came out of the place ! When Miss Kindergarten saw me, she jumped on my back and then french kissed me. I guess she was happy to see me. I was really surprised that they were there faster than me ! I'll never know how they managed to do it, but we went to Baracca instead, because they claimed it was boring at Edgar's. No kidding...

Familiar Names by Now

Funny you should mention the name, because I think I've heard it before. Is he the guy with the wig ? The "superstar" DJ that always spins with a cap on so people don't see he's balding ?

Yeah, Tiga's everywhere these days. He's done his part to promote his new single "You're Gonna Want Me". Having it produced by Soulwax, and having the Scissor Sisters' Jake Shears as guest vocalist during the chorus - that sounds like a good move. The song plays well with almost every DJ I've heard recently. The video is simple, yet funny. I keep on receiving email reminders of how insistant he is regarding this release, and I like it. Because the promo looks good, and sounds good.

Tiga will be at MEG alongside Rinocérôse, Justice and Jeans Team. Will he dodge the "live" performance like he did last year - or the year before, I actually / honestly don't remember - in favor of another DJ set ? Let's pay for ridiculously expensive tickets for the event and find out live. Because I sure as hell don't want to miss this.

*

I remember Satan Bélanger from back in the days. I had just moved to Montreal and didn't have any friends. I had met this guy on mIRC (remember that crap ?!) and his nickname on there was "Stoney". We became net friends, and then real life friends, as I attended a few Grim Skunk shows with him - he was always on the guest list. We ended up making living room music together, watching old crappy movies in his Boisbriand appartment, and smoking the biggest blunts you've ever seen.

I would quite often get out of the island, and hitch-hike my way to Boisbriand. He lived right next to highway 15, so as soon as I got off I was in his living room. We'd buy the cheapest beer around (back in the days it was Lucky Lager, and I'm still terrified by the souvenir I have of its awful taste) and flirt with the girl working the late shift at the dépanneur.

If we didn't rent any cheap movies at the local Blockbuster's, we'd just hang out in his room while he chatted with our "friends" on mIRC, and we listened to music, mostly. He had this Satan Bélanger cassette that we'd listen to. There was a "sketch" about a metal fan ending up seeing a hockey game, thinking he was going to see the "Devils". It was funny. Fucking funny, actually. Even funnier when we were smoked out and giggly. Mr. Giggles. We watched "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes" over and over again.

Once he had a party. I smoked so much I fell asleep on the couch as the guests were arriving. I woke up when the party was over. I guess I needed some sleep, but still, what a boring drug !

We also recorded the "Pète-Fest". Stoney had the talent of a "Pétomane". He could inhale as much air as he wanted via his anus, and then blow it out in various tones. So he'd lie on his couch, legs in the air, and I'd play an instrument, and his farts were magically becoming parts of the music ! He still has that tape somewhere. He told me, last time I saw him, as he passed in front of the Burger King located at the corner of Ste-Catherine & St-Laurent.

We had some goth friends. Some fat friends. One of them borrowed my Alex de Renzy's "Pretty Peaches" rare as fuck hardcore VHS, and never returned it. I'm still mourning.

Apart from Satan Bélanger, we also listened to Féroce FETA, les Secrétaires Volantes, les Biberons Bâtis, and tons of other crap.

Oh, did I mention that Satan Bélanger was also going to be featured on the bill alonside Tiga & friends at MEG ? No comments.

Mountaintop Ravers Massacre

I drifted into a strange state of consciousness last Friday, when I left the office. I wasn't sure that what I was about to do was very brilliant, but nothing would stop me from doing it, and I went ahead without anybody tring to stop me, because, well, nobody knew. So I got to my place, I took a shower, I threw a few things in my luggages & then in my car, and I left for Quebec City.

I arrived around midnight and went to see what Mr. Finances was doing. He was drinkin' Rev and recording a mix. We stuck around in his living room and drank beer until I started falling asleep.

The next day we woke up and went to see what the area around Mont St-Anne looked like. The road was really fun to roll on, all curvy and mountain-like, and the sun was hitting on my head like a sonovabitch. We had planned on going to Fre(e)ak Part 1, an outside event on top of Mont Ste-Anne, a bit similar to Piknic except that the music sucked. It was trance ! For fuck's sake ! We stopped by a dépanneur to get some gas, and some food. We drank Rev while sitting on my hood. When we finally decided to get a move on and go to Mont Ste-Anne's parking lot, we learned that we had to pay 3$ each to enter the site, and 15$ each just to get on the fuckin' mountaintop. What if we walked ? 2 hours would get our asses there. We turned around and left.

There was a golf course just next to the mountain, so we went to finish our Rev over there while hitting balls. T'was fun.

*

The night came quietly and we started drinkin' beer to make time pass by faster. Fre(e)ak Part 2 was to take place at Galerie Rouje. After a couple of drinks we were ready to go. I found a parking spot just in front. Lucky me. It didn't cost a dime to get in. The music was pretty OK when we arrived. The guy played an old Kiko song from "Midnight Magic". I was impressed. He put the lamest version ever of Mylo's "Drop the Pressure", which was sucky breakbeat with no momentum. I wasn't impressed. There was a black haired chick in high heels, with a blue tank top and some apparently amazing breasts, who was always dancing next to me and giving me some nice looks. However, since she was hangin' out with some guys wearing white pants - could have been gay, who knows - I didn't try anything. The last thing I wanted to know is start a fight there.

I got sweaty real fast. Axel Klein, apparently from Montreal - never heard about the guy - came on. He was putting some pretty neat stuff, namely a nice remix of Sam Fox's "Touch Me", and when Tiga's "You're Gonna Want Me" popped out of nowhere from behind a sucky track, I couldn't believe my ears ! We had practiced a choregraphy earlier, and we danced like fools.

Eventually we got tired of hearing only one good song every now and then so we went back, kept on drinking on the couch until I fell asleep, and I lost track.

*

The following morning it was time to go : Finances had to meet his new prospect for breakfast, and I was hungry & eager to get my ass back in Montreal. The road was fun, but I almost fell asleep around Beloeil, mainly because of the heavy traffic making us stop everywhere. M.I.A. was blastin' my car stereo and it felt good to be back, when we crossed the bridge.