Electronicbeats // Focus

THE FUTURE OF TRANSPORT

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 13:03:38 GMT

Designing transport is how humans dream of the future. From the Wright brothers’ early planes to Michael J Fox riding a hoverboard, fellow Homo sapiens moving in novel ways are singularly arresting. Be they real or fictional, such endeavours are almost too seductive. Transport is so proficient a vehicle – as it were – for the imagination that futurologists, filmmakers and journalists are tempted into wildly inaccurate predictions, both optimistic and pessimistic. Da Vinci’s helicopter sketches took half a millennium to take off, Victorian Londoners feared growing horse use would flood the streets with dung and Bladerunner author Philip K Dick thought cars would fly by 1992. These futurists are balanced by realists, of course. The “Where is my flying car?” phrase beloved of technology cynics is a generalised swipe at the empty prophecies we are continually fed.

As concisely rhetorical as that phrase may be, it distracts from very real progress. Next year, Virgin Galactic will begin public space flights. Plucky tourists will be whisked beyond earth’s atmosphere six abreast. At $200,000 a seat it’s still a little dearer (just) than a TFL Zone 6 Travelcard, even if the dollar keeps falling. So, if you feel like cashing in on the Mustique pad, you can buckle up next to William Shatner, Paris Hilton or Stephen Hawking, each of whom has signed up. Those of you without an offshore should be heartened to hear that Virgin frequent flyer miles can be used instead of cash, and you’ll only need two million of them. Personally I’d need a break from the in-flight meals. Like all new forms of transport, Virgin Galactic will begin as an elitist jaunt before the price falls to more accessible levels. Richard Branson plans to offer $20,000 tickets after the 500th passenger has flown. Space travel will lose attractiveness as it gains familiarity, just like long-haul flying. As with conventional planes, your first experience will be a frightening, exhilarating coming-of-age. Before long you’ll bemoan weightlessness over deep vein thrombosis. Space flights will become a means to an end – no more exciting than a rush hour commute.

Space travel sounds futuristic, but it’s as old as the EEC. Sputnik 2 carried a stray dog named Laika into space in 1957. She died after four hours in orbit. Luckily, teleportation isn’t ready to be tested on sentient beings, but scientists are making steps in that direction. In 2006, researchers in Copenhagen teleported a light beam half a metre. Trekkies will have to wait a while longer for the pimp-my-flying-saucer version, but the Enterprise’s hyperdrive may be closer to realisation. The US military (who else?) is investigating a 2005 proposal to power a spacecraft using anti-gravity. The device would use vast magnetic coils to propel itself into another dimension of space-time. It could leave Earth at lunch and land on the moon in time for dinner, Mars in less than three hours and, most tantalisingly, reach a galaxy 11 light years away in only 80 days. This concept is based on the brilliant theories of late German scientist, Burkhard Heim.

Heim’s quantum fiddling could usher in a huge leap for science. Theories are being liberated from blackboards as physicists become truly physical. Inevitably though, historically familiar forms of new transport are more immediate and evocative. Solar sails are a fledgling technology which harness rays of sunlight like wind to manoeuvre spacecraft. They’ve been used numerous times by NASA and other agencies but sci-fi, as ever, is one step ahead. A space yacht rigged with solar sails features in Planet of the Apes the novel, while Disney’s Treasure Planet movie thoughtfully updated the Treasure Island book with an intergalactic schooner and a cyborg Long John Silver. Simpler still is the delightfully named space tether: a cable from Earth to the heavens, presumably transporting an astronaut called Jack to a celestial giant. “Fee! Fi! Fo! Set lasers to stun.”

Sci-fi aside, some mass-market transport changes are already beginning to bite. Toyota has sold over a million hybrid cars with electric batteries. Brazil has produced ethanol for 29 years, and the sugar cane-derived alcohol now powers one third of its vehicles. Ironically, this shift from petrol to sustainables may have more impact on 21st century development than anything space-related. If the West can kick its oil habit, global geopolitics would be inverted. OPEC would be relegated from heavyweight trade group to irrelevant old boy’s club. Stripped of economic importance, the never-ending Iraq war would become unpalatable even for neocons. Texan oil barons would wallow in self-pity and Alaska’s census would be decimal. Hydrogen is even cleaner than ethanol, emitting only air and water from the exhaust pipe. So promising is the technology that BMW, Mercedes and Ford now make hydrogen fuel cell cars.

Through reduced emissions, renewables could reduce global warming without having to compromise on the car culture so deeply embedded in the Anglo-American psyche. Though solving one problem, new fuels like hydrogen produce others. I rode a prototype hydrogen-powered motorbike two years ago that was whisper quiet. With no internal combustion engine roaring under the bonnet, hydrogen cars are a potential death trap for schoolchildren and the hard of hearing. According to BT futurologist Ian Neild such safety issues will be offset by automation from 2020. He predicts that cars then will be fully automated, with a small black box acting as your personal chauffeur. General Motors demonstrated an automated car (dubbed ‘The Boss’) at this year’s Consumer Electronics Show in LA.

Removing human error would make road deaths flatline, but there is something a little spooky about relinquishing total control to HAL. Horror stories of sat navs gone bonkers are commonplace. Dirt tracks, one-way streets and farmyards – all have cropped up as obstacles for drivers following their gadgets. Visitors to the Yorkshire village of Crackpot were directed to the edge of a 100ft cliff. One woman nearly drowned writing off her £96,000 Merc in a river. Technology bermuda triangles are also a worry. New York cabbies complain of a black spot around the Empire State building caused by the radio masts atop the skyscraper. Stalling engines, faulty horns, doors that lock themselves – plenty of gremlins have crept out of the dashboard. The problem has been exacerbated by radio masts relocated from the World Trade Centre, yet mention of 9/11 brings to mind an even darker threat for cyber cars: remote terrorism. A street full of web-enabled cars is a hacker’s playground. With every vehicle a potential missile, Grand Theft Auto would be videogame no more. A safer civic alternative is the Personal Rapid Transit system: an on-rails network of taxi pods which fizz around the city, dropping off passengers at designated stops. The world’s first model is being built at Heathrow and is scheduled to be up and running in 2009, probably before Terminal 5’s baggage system.

Road and rail-based private transport lacks the social interaction common to buses, overland trains and tubes. Public transport remains one of the few social melting pots in otherwise segregated cities, bringing together everyone who can’t afford (or doesn’t want) a car, taxi or bike. There’s something comforting about shared journeys and the scale of public transport networks, particularly in an age of cocoon-like office cubicles and shoebox flats. It’s arguably the most acute contemporary evidence of society; a reminder that we are one cog in a much larger system. The tube is trumped by big boats as a way to experience the sublime, however. Freedom Ship is a vast floating city, as yet unbuilt. If constructed it would dwarf the world’s current largest ship, Knock Nevis – itself so large it can’t navigate the English Channel when fully loaded. With 18,000 apartments, 10,000 hotels, a hospital, high school and subway system, Freedom Ship is a touch ambitious. Its 1,400 metre-long hull would be over five times Titanic’s length, and just 30 metres shorter than the Great Pyramid at Giza. Freedom Ship is conspicuously large, but invisibility is a far more attractive prospect for military transport. Sea Shadow was a stealthy looking ship built by Lockheed for the US Navy in 1985. Its angular hull reflected radar, although not well enough for it to have entered production. Proteus is an even weirder-looking boat currently in development. It resembles a giant water boatman insect, with four spidery legs descending to catamaran hulls. Its lightweight design reduces fuel consumption, making the craft ideal for biological studies in areas sensitive to pollution.

Whether spider-shaped boat or sledge, bicycle or magnetically levitating train, transport has an enduring power to outline human achievement. Forms of transport are the most tangible milestones of human evolution. The algebraic miracle of space rockets, a TGV in full flight, the transition from four limbs to two – each is proof of man’s dominance of technology and environment. More profoundly, transport is a godlike way to escape the mortal constraints of time and space. Tea clippers, steamships, and planes have successively shrunk the world. Where once it took months to traverse the globe, now a few hours and a credit card is all that’s needed. Although the modes are new, the impulse to travel is as old as the id. “Our nature lies in movement,” wrote Pascal, “complete calm is death.” Dreaming of futuristic transport, too, is innately human. We believe that generations to come will improve upon our technology, finding solutions to today’s insurmountable problems. This self-awareness marks us out from all other life: we comprehend our own evolution, and our power to change its course.

TEXT BY DANIEL WEST | ILLUSTRATION LEONA LIST

AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 ELECTRONIC BEATS

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 12:47:24 GMT

ALL ABOARD, ALL ABOARD
1. Happy Mondays: Step On
2. Wham: Wake Me Up Before Your Go Go
3. The Rolling Stones: Start Me Up
4. Led Zeppelin: Stairway To Heaven
5. Jamie Principal: Baby Wants To Ride
6. The Beatles: Magical Mystery Tour
7. The Fifth Dimension: Up, Up And Away
8. Frank Sinatra: Come Fly With Me
9. Alex Gaudino: Destination Calabria
10. Spiller: Groovejet

WE HAVE LIFT OFF
1. Michael Jackson: Thriller
2. Joey Beltram: Energy Flash
3. The Doors: Break On Through
4. Carole King: I Feel The Earth Move
5. The Prodigy: Out Of Space
6. Beastie Boys: Intergalactic
7. Stevie Wonder: Higher Ground
8. Jackie Wilson: Higher and Higher
9. Diana Ross: Upside Down
10. Goldfrapp: Strict Machine

WARP FACTOR 5
1. Air: Surfing On Rocket
2. The Rolling Stones: Get Off My Cloud
3. Digitalism: Zdarlight
4. Joy Division: Transmission
5. Hawkwind: Silver Machine
6. Mylo: Sunworshipper
7. Gustav Holst: The Planets Suite
8. Echo & The Bunnymen: The Killing Moon
9. Skream vs Hijack: Babylon Timewarp
10. What Planet You On?: Bodyrox feat. Luciana

THE 5.000 MILES HIGH CLUB
1. The Brakes: All Night Disco Party
2. Orbital: Orbital
3. Daft Punk: Around The World
4. The KLF: 3 a.m. Eternal
5. Kiss: Crazy Crazy Nights
6. Orion: Sunset People
7. Klaxons: Gravity’s Rainbow
8. MARRS: Pump Up the Volume
9. Sun Ra Arkestra: Space Is The Place
10. Fiction Factory: Feels Like Heaven

DEEP SPACE NINE
1. Lou Reed: Satellite of Love
2. Extra T: Extra T’s ET Boogie
3. Air: Kelly Watch the Stars
4. Interdimensional Frequencies: Space Invader are Smoking...
5. DJ Godfather: Aliens Ate my 303
6. Josh Wink: Higher State Of Consciousness
7. Foremost Poets: Moonraker
8. Chemical Brothers: Galaxy Bounce
9. John Williams: Close Encounters Of The Third Kind
10. Layo & Bushwacka!: Nighstalkin

HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM
1. Led Zeppellin: Communciation Breakdown
2. Andy C: Valley Of The Shadows
3. Gnarls Barkley: Crazy
4. Black Sabbath: Paranoid
5. Basement Jaxx: Red Alert
6. Adonis: No Way Back
7. Public Enemy: Fear Of A Black Planet
8. Pink Floyd: Dark Side Of the Moon
9. Marvin Gaye: Trouble Man
10. The Doors: Riders On the Storm

TOUCHDOWN
1. Hot Chip: Ready For The Floor
2. Coldplay: A Rush of Blood To The Head
3. Supergrass: Sun Hits The Sky
4. The Beatles: Across The Universe
5. Joe Smooth: Promised Land
6. Talking Heads: This Must Be The Place
7. Steve Miller Band: Fly Like An Eagle
8. Elton John: Rocket Man
9. Brian Eno: ‘Music For Airports
10. Belinda Carlisle: Heaven Is A Place On Earth

HOME AGAIN
1. Lionel Richie: Hello
2. Axwell: I Found U
3. Kanye West: Homecoming
4. Roy Ayers: Love Will Bring Us Back Together
5. Justice: We Are Your Friends
6. Lynyrd Skynyrd: Sweet Home Alabama
7. Stardust: Music Sounds Better With You
8. Kylie Minogue: Wow
9. Rui Da Silva: Touch Me
10. Fatboy Slim: You’ve Come a Long Way Baby

TEXT BY KEVIN BRADDOCK | ILLUSTRATION LEONA LIST

THE ALTERNATIVE ROUTE 3/3

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 12:10:35 GMT

BECOME A VOLUNTEER

What’s the concept? So, you’ve so far failed to do your bit to save the planet and have an itchy conscience. Or, you’re tired of the rat race and want to give back. Whatever your reason, there’s a wealth of options for people who want a do-good extravaganza.

How does it work? Pick a programme that most reflects your personal interests and embark on a foreign adventure. The range of possible employments is huge – everything from teaching English to tending
elephants. The idea is that you work a certain amount of hours per day and spend the rest of your time exploring and communing with the locals.

How crazy do you have to be? It might seem odd to sacrifice a relaxing beach holiday for hard labour on the other side of the world. But how many of us haven’t felt a twinge of social conscience at some point? Volunteers span all social groups and ages, with everyone from gap year kids to pensioners getting in on the act.

Isn’t it a jungle out there? Well, it’s as safe or as dangerous as you make it. Going with a reputable company seriously boosts your chances of a trouble-free trip and the most common afflictions are homesickness, cultural confusion and the odd bout of ‘Delhi Belly’ otherwise known as ‘The Runs’.

What to pack? Obviously it depends where you’re going. If you’re fixing potholes in the Lake District then malaria tablets probably aren’t necessary. But the more far flung your location, the more thought is required. Going armed with a supply of children’s gifts (crayons, pens and paints are always popular) helps instil goodwill and is more productive than just handing out shrapnel.

There must be the odd horror story? Although it can all get a bit Big Brother at times, especially if you find yourself banged-up with a group of gap year kids, overall reports are positive. There are the odd urban myths – kibbutz jobs that entail masturbating turkeys, or the Australian kangaroo farm run by a bunch of escaped Nazis.

Any celebrity do-gooders? These days it seems every z-lister is keen to brag about their ‘save the world’ activities, inspired by the activities of ‘Sir Bob’, Bono et al. Worst of all is Lady Mucca, who never wastes a chance to tell us all about her ‘wonderful’ work with landmines while simultaneously milking Macca for all he’s worth.

GO ‘OFF-GRID’

What’s the concept? Escaping the rat race might be a bit of an eighties cliché but there’s nothing stereotypical about this back-to-nature holiday. Going ‘off grid’ involves finding a spot with no power or running water. The aim is to loosen the ties that bind us to our over-stressed, overly material existences.

How does it work? Campsites are out. The first step is to develop an off-grid attitude, namely: a disregard for creature comforts coupled with a dose of eco-guilt. Then decide where you’re going, how you’re getting there and what type of shelter you’re staying in. Off-grid accommodations range from tree houses to huts to camper vans and even private islands.

So, this lot are definitely bonkers? True, some off-grid types are hippies living happily outside society but maybe they’ve got the right idea? There’s also plenty of mid-life crisis businessmen and eco-curious young couples.

Isn’t it a jungle out there? Not exactly, but camping in the wilderness does have its pitfalls. Make sure you don’t get caught out by the weather and keep your wits about you.

What to pack? Ironically, you need quite a lot of gear to go ‘back to nature’. Camping equipment obviously, renewable energy sources like solar panels, candles, water filters etc. If the closest you’ve come is a few days at a festival you might also want to pack a good off-grid handbook.

There must be the odd horror story? Nobody’s been eaten by a bear, so far. The most common mishaps involve being moved on by the police. Off-grid camping is only tolerated in England, illegal in France and restricted to desert-like national parks in Spain. It’s easy to forget the law when you’re pitching your tipi in a far-flung beauty spot.

Any celebrity off-gridders? Bushman Ray Mears is probably the original master of the wild, but media whiz Nick Rosen is hot on his heels with a book on the subject already in the bag. Another self-sufficiency disciple is blonde bombshell Daryl Hannah, who’s converted her house into an eco-farm.

THE ALTERNATIVE ROUTE 2/3

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 11:33:51 GMT

SWAP YOUR HOUSE

What’s the concept? No, this has nothing to do with reality TV. Back in the days before Wife Swap et al cluttered up our TV schedules, the idea of the house swap was born.

How does it work? Happy-swappers register online filling out information on their homes and adding enticing pics. First contact is made through the site and after that it’s up the individuals to iron out the details of the swap.

How crazy do you have to be? It’s less a case of being bonkers and more about trusting humanity. Yes, it requires a slight ‘leap of faith’ to invite strangers into your home but the key is to find people you can relate to and whose lives mirror your own. House-swappers tend to be either families, young couples or older people enjoying their retirement. Backpackers tend not to have many material possessions, let alone houses, so the chances of you ending up with a bunch of smelly crusties are minimal.

Can you make sure your pad is safe? Ok, so accidents happen. But there’s ways of protecting yourself and the biggest tip is to take out full house insurance before you leave. For the little things – like watering the plants and replacing broken plates it’s a good idea to sign an exchange agreement.

What to pack? Men everywhere will be glad to hear that, this time, it’s more a case of what to leave. A small gift displayed in a prominent position can help kick a swap off on a positive note. But make sure you mug-up on the swap family’s likes and dislikes - the last thing you want to do is leave a bottle of vino for a family of teetotal vegans.

There must be the odd horror story? Well, there was the legendary incident portrayed in ITV’s 2002 drama ‘The Swap’ where a family exchanged their £1 million home for a spacious beachside Australian pad, only to have their house, its contents and their car sold while they were away. To add insult to injury it was Christmas.

Any celebrity swappers? Top of the celebrity freeloaders is one Mr T. Blair and family who’ve camped out everywhere from Cliff Richard’s Barbados villa to Silvio Berlusconi’s Sardinian mansion. None of the swaps seem to have been that successful though, as he never invited any of them to take over 10 Downing Street in return.

STICK YOUR THUMB OUT

What’s the concept? An ancient travel art that has had some seriously bad press over the years. Traditional hitchhiking consists of standing by the roadside and extending one’s thumb (or palm if you’re in South America) in the hope that some kindly driver will give you a free ride. Thanks to the wonders of the worldwide web, a new, more regulated version is emerging.

How does it work? There’s community sites where hitch-happy drivers and ‘thumbers’ can hook-up before they set off. Users post up where they’re headed and the site then matchmakes them with a suitable driver and vice versa. There’s also abundant forums where stories are swapped and tips shared.

How crazy do you have to be? While some hitchhikers might suffer from wanderlust leading them to spend weeks, months and even years shuffling around, most are perfectly sane people who out of necessity are forced to attempt life on the road.

Can you make sure you’re safe? Find a fellow hitcher or log-on for useful advice on where the safest pick-ups are and how to deal with dodgy drivers. There’s even advice on how best to jump out of a speeding car, if it should ever come to that.

What to pack? Still on the safety theme – make sure you’ve got a fully charged mobile with you, and a tent can come in handy for those times when you’re forced to bed down en-route.

There must be the odd horror story? How many times do I have to say it – this is not the movies! Most hitchers enjoy the random connections they make on the road, the exposure to different cultures and the feeling of belonging to a global society. If you don’t believe me, why not give it a try?

Any celebrity thumbers? Beat King Jack Kerouac is possibly the best known of the hitching bunch but there’s a surprising number of high-profile devotees.

THE ALTERNATIVE ROUTE 1/3

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 09:59:41 GMT

COUCHSURF THE WORLD

What’s the concept? Forget about forking out for an overpriced hotel or racing to bag that final dirty dorm bed in some smelly hostel. Thanks to popular community sites like couchsurfing.com, travellers from all corners of the globe can find a free sofa and, usually, a friendly host waiting for them.

How does it work? The first step for any wannabe surfer is to sign-up with an online ‘hospitality network’. It’s free to register and members build up their profiles à la Facebook. The only obligation once you’ve enjoyed some gratis hospitality is that you have to repay the favour to any couchsurfers that come your way.

How crazy do you have to be? All travel junkies tend to be a bit nuts, in a good way. Couchsurfers come in all shapes and sizes, with the majority around the 25-40 age group. The US is the most popular couchsurfing nation, closely followed by France and Germany. Some get involved to meet new people, others are professional travellers and others just want the inside track on their chosen destination.

Surely it can’t be safe? Although the idea of inviting people into your home or crashing on a stranger’s sofa seems a bit risky, all reports are favourable. Strict safety measures are in place on the various websites and users can publicly rate each other. There’s also the slightly hippie notion of ‘karma’ which appeals to traveller types – the idea being that if you shaft someone, you will get shafted in return.

What to pack? Going armed with a ‘gift’ for your host is always a good idea and helps break the ice. Aside from that a Blackberry or any other portable web device is always handy so you can log on and decide where to make your next pitstop.

There must be the odd horror story? Nothing more severe than the occasional host pulling out at the last minute leaving the unlucky surfer to find an emergency alternative. Most surfers you speak to go slightly glassy-eyed when singing the praises of this caring-and-sharing phenomenon.

Any celebrity surfers? Funnily enough most celebs are more interested in staying in five-star pads than getting down and dirty with the locals. But there is the odd surfer who grabs the public’s imagination like 27-year-old DJ Adam Schofield who packed-up his Manchester life and set off to couchsurf for five years. This nomadic multi-tasker runs a popular blog, hosts couchsurfing club nights and plans to write a book at the end of it all. Phew!

TEXT BY SERENA KUTCHINSKY | ILLUSTRATION BY LEONA LIST

TRANS-SIBERIAN TALES 2/2

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 09:21:54 GMT

“I LOVE THE NOW, IT`S ALL WE HAVE”

How did you find out the details about the Trans-Siberian Railway that is the centre of the story in Transsiberia?
I have a natural schoolboy love of big trains and engines and trucks. I like them. I like being on trains. The preparation for me is very much the script. I know when I arrive, I don’t need to spend two weeks on a train beforehand, because I am going to be on a train for six weeks. It will take me five minutes to experience what it is like, because I will be on it and in it. So for me, I am much more on the page and listening to his accent and rhythm and his attitude behind his language. I play a local police cop, so I am more based on the Russian cabdriver who drove me across Los Angeles that morning. Or I by coincidence started to eat in a Russian restaurant in Santa Monica near where I stay in Hollywood. It was before I got offered the part in Transsiberia, but the restaurant was fascinating. There were a lot of ex-military Russians in that location and there where some tables ... if you turn to stare, big trouble. Don’t look too long at any of those tables. They were a pretty hard bunch. They were very nice to me, they always found me a table and brought me different vodkas to try and Russian food. I don’t know why I was there, but within two months I was offered the role of Grinko. I thought: I know him. He is that taxi driver, that waiter, that person I was frightened to look at over there.

So are you ever not working? Or is the mind always busy with your parts? Do you mind-travel a lot?
I think so. I am always collecting, just putting things in my back pocket. Not consciously saying that I’ll put you in a film one day – unless I absolutely adore them or they really make me angry. Then I would say I’ll get you one day, put you in a movie and show the world what a creep you are.

This issue is about journeys, also in a metaphorical way. Is there something in your artistic life that you regret?
No. Because life is good now, it is beautiful. I think we have to face the fact that everything in the past has brought us to me sitting here with you now. And if I had any regrets, it would be regretting the journey that brought me to this table now. I don’t regret that journey, because I am so happy to be here now. I love the now, it is all we have.

People know you best for your incredible performance in “Ghandi”. Was that ever a problem for you to be minimized to this movie? You were offered and also played a lot of decent men afterwards.
That is not a problem, ’cause I also play villains lately. Life always finds a balance. That’s great. As an actor, I was allowed to fully explore that decency in historic times. But life will always intervene and the pendulum will always swing back and suddenly I am finding myself reading the screenplay of a movie called Sexy Beast. And I think: there he is, that’s the guy I have been waiting for. Everything swings back the other way, it is always moving, so there’s huge gratitude for that part of my career – and huge gratitude for Sexy Beast and everything that has come after that. But for me, my parts are all connected. We have both inside us. You and me, we both have a Don Logan from Sexy Beast inside us and a Ghandi inside us. We do, we all have these polarities inside us, only history and circumstance bring them out one day or another. But we do, we all do.

TRANS-SIBERIAN TALES 1/2

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 09:08:18 GMT

To begin to understand the monumental nature of the Trans-Siberian Railway it helps to know some facts, although it is hard to ever really describe how stunning it is. It is the world’s longest continuous railway network, which leads 9,297 kilometres from Moscow to Vladivostok, crosses 89 cities and 16 gigantic rivers and can still claim today to be the pinnacle of train travel, taking in as it does such majestic, raw and breathtaking landscapes. The first plans for this insanely epic undertaking started back in 1870 and the actual construction dragged on for 22 years with overall costs exceeding 1,455 billion rubles. Altogether, workers numbering 90,000 struggled against the challenging conditions of the Siberian environment: landslides, floods and snowstorms paralysed their endeavours again and again.

Acclaimed movie director Brad Anderson, who gained rave reviews for his last movie The Machinist, deployed the frosty atmosphere of this man-made wonder for his dazzling thriller Transsiberian, in which an innocent American couple becomes tangled up in the smuggling intrigues of the Russian mafia.

For this issue of Electronic Beats we spoke to Brad Anderson and his leading actor Sir Ben Kingsley about the phenomenon of journeys, shooting movies on trains and, of course, the metaphorical journey we all face as we go through life.

“THE TRAIN ATTENDANTS ARE BAD-ASS, TOUGH-AS-NAILS WOMEN”

Mr. Anderson, what’s so fascinating about the Trans-Siberian Railway that you actually decided to base a whole movie in that environment?
I was always really fascinated by train movies and Russia itself. I mean, I studied Russian at college and took the Trans-Siberian back in 1988 after I graduated from school. That experience very much kind of informed this movie and ultimately years later writing the script. The idea of setting a kind of paranoid movie on a very kind of isolated, very claustrophobic environment like a train seemed to make a lot of sense. There are not a lot of places one can hide on a train, not a lot of places to gather if you are trying to flee or escape. That seemed like an interesting contrast. But I also wanted to create a little bit of the experience that I had back in 1988.

What kind of experience are you talking about exactly?
The sort of raw interesting experience of being on a train, the characters you meet along the way, the cultural differences. And to put a couple of Americans, who tend to be so untravelled and inexperienced, in these unusual circumstances and see what happens. It was a good way to create some interesting suspense and drama.

Was it clear from the beginning that you wouldn’t set the film in the Soviet Union as it was when you travelled there, but in the present time?
Well, I wanted to have it in the here and now. But oddly enough that train, the actual experience of travelling with the Trans-Siberian really hasn’t changed. We took the train a couple of years ago when we were doing research for this movie, and in the 20 years since it hadn’t changed at all. The trains were exactly the same. The experience was very much the same, even the same kind of people. It was a little bit of time warping.

A great deal of train movies have already been made. Did you benefit from them when you were preparing your movie?
We looked at train movies as we were preparing this film. I like a lot of those 1940s-type Hitchcock movies: The Lady Vanishes, Strangers on a Train, Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express. I like the feeling of those movies and we watched them to get a feel, partly to sort out the tone, but also to find out more about how to shoot in such a claustrophobic environment. Where do I put the camera? How can I make the experience feel as kind of cramped as it is? So in watching those films, we came up with an approach for this movie.

How would you describe this approach to someone who hasn’t seen the movie yet?
We wanted this physically to feel as we were on that train, cramped in amongst all the people in those tiny cabins. That’s the complicated technical side of making this movie. Fortunately, we had a really good production designer who built a really good set for us where we could put the camera where we wanted to. But in general we were gathering in there with the cast and the extras and just pushed our way through with the cameras and tried to make it feel real. The movie Das Boot was another kind of reference point. It is a similar experience shooting on a submarine and on a train. There are not a lot of places you can go, except forward and backwards. You see the way he moves the camera in that movie, it is unbelievable. We didn’t get that experimental, but certainly the experience of trying to find creative ways to shoot a movie in which over 70 per cent is set on a train was part of the challenge. At what point do you get out of the train, at what point do you get on it? Another movie was Runaway Train which I thought was a movie that certainly... that cold, metallic look of that movie was something that informed our movie a little bit as well. There haven’t been a lot of train movies recently, so we were just trying to do it our own way.

You shot on an actual train. Did you move compartment walls to have more space, did you control the colours?
Like you said, every wall could be removed, so we could place the camera where we wanted. The most complicated thing was that everywhere you look is a window, of course. So we had green screens outside of the windows and put in the landscape later on in the post-production. We just wanted to make it feel as real as possible. So we decided to shoot the whole thing hand-held, with a raw, in-your-face look to it. The production designer took real compartments, disassembled them and rebuilt it on a set, so it was the real walls. So we made it more comfortable for our crew once in a while. But in terms of the look, we didn’t want to do some flashy work with the camera, we wanted it to feel as if we’d just gotten on that train with these guys.

The movie was shot in Lithuania. Why didn’t you shoot on the real Trans-Siberian Railway?
We thought about that idea and we did scout in Moscow and St. Petersburg. We wanted to shoot the movie in Russia, but from a financial point of view it was cheaper not to do that. We needed a country that was part of the EU, and also there were a lot of logistical complications with shooting in Russia. It was easier to get a train to work with in Lithuania where we ended up shooting the movie. Important to me was the authenticity and the realism of the look and feel. It would have been great to do the actual movie on the Trans-Siberian, but it would simply have been too complicated.

You portray the Russians as a dangerous, rough and violent nation. Was that image reflected in your personal experience during your travels?
The Russians don’t come across as the most affable people in the movie, that’s right. No animosity against Russians in general, once you get to know them they are incredibly soulful people. I spent some time there after college and it is just that there is a certain kind of mask, that at least at that time and even when we were over there recently, there is not a typical, warm American embrace-everyone-the-moment-you-meet-them atmosphere. It takes some time for them to open up. There is a certain cool Russian feeling. Again, this is probably a stereotype, but often in movies we don’t have a lot of time, and so we work with those kind of stereotypes a bit. But there is a certain coolness that I think is pretty accurate, especially on that train. The women who are the attendants on the train, they are bad-ass, tough-as-nails women. You don’t want to mess with them. They will just toss you off the train. So I think it is a little bit of an amped up movie version.

TEXT BY JOHANNES BONKE | MOVIE IMAGES BY D:PRESS | IMAGES BY AARON SUGIURA, CHARLES TURNER, HUGH MORE, CHIN-KIU CHRIS CHENG, MATT LONG, CHRIS WESELOH, ANDREW BARNES

JAZZIE B

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 08:26:03 GMT

JAZZIE B
“Most of the journeys I’ve made over the last 15 years have been to Antigua, where I travel to at least five times a year. All my brothers and sisters live in the UK, but I’m related to practically everyone on the island. My mother used to send me and my siblings over to Antigua when we were little. I went back on my own when I was 20. I appreciate it much more now than back then. As a youth I had the wrong attitude and was always looking over my shoulder thinking some cousin was spying on me. Now I have a house there, run my business from there - it’s like a second home to me.

I always get a knot in my stomach when I’m heading out to Gatwick from my home in Camden. The closer I get to the airport, the more butterflies I get fluttering away inside me. It’s a 12 hour door-to-door journey and these feelings are a mixture of excitement to be back in Antigua and general travel anxiety. Things like who I’m going to be sat next to on the plane or whether I’m going to get any grief about my luggage. As the car nears the airport, all the memories and feelings I have about Antigua come flooding back. I close my eyes and think about the smell of roast corn, frying fish and that fresh sea breeze mixed with humidity. Also the sounds of the birds and the animals.

As soon as I arrive at St. Johns airport in Antigua, I get bombarded by the locals. I get a welcoming call from the Baggage Handlers through to the Customs Officer, all telling me about the last party they went to. I always give them CDs, which they are eternally grateful for. The drive from the airport to my house only takes 20 minutes, but it takes me an hour - I always do a few stops on the way. First up is the vendor who sells coconut water, delicious. Then I stop at one a few miles down where they sell English stuff like Heinz Beans and Walkers Crisps - here is where I place my order for my stay, which they deliver later on. Further down the road I stop at my cousin’s gas station where I get the lowdown on what’s been happening since I was last there - y’know, all the local gossip - and then I drive off to my house in Half Moon Bay. For me, this trip to my house is a way to acclimatise to being back - the island wooing me back in again.

I like these journeys, it’s a down time, an isolated time to reflect on life - accept who I am. I use the time on the flight to write lyrics, create plans, doodle and make notes. I find it encouraging, having this time to be creative and the space to read back through my ideas and make sense of everything.

All these journeys to Antigua over the years has definitely changed me as a person. Without them I would’ve been bored and more intense that I am now. Antigua and the time spent travelling there has chilled me out a lot. And what’s nice is that my kids are starting to love it as much as I do, which is important. The path has been made.”

Jazzie B barely needs an introduction. Famed for being the Soul II Soul ringleader back in the nineties, Jazzie has just released ‘Jazzie B Presents School Days’ which is out now on Trojan Records. Look out for new Soul II Soul material next year.

TEXT BY LULU LE VAY | ILLUSTRATION BY LEONA LIST

MARCAS LANCASTER

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 08:21:19 GMT

MARCAS LANCESTER
“I’ve never been a fan of ‘touristic’ travel. I prefer to visit countries when I’m working or to be with people who live there. I’ve never developed an interest in ‘places of historical interest’ just because I’m on holiday. I find being a tourist alienating. Having said that, I visited India recently and loved it. What I find fascinating is how different cultures occupy different time periods simultaneously - in parts of India you can experience first hand how life was lived a thousand years ago, with the same pre-occupations, tools and religions.

I went on an incredible three-day train journey across India, from Mumbai to Chennai. I’ve never experienced a journey like it in my life. At one point we were woken up at four a.m. by the police, as we were travelling through a territory where the trains were attacked by tribes throwing spears. The police had to pull down all the hatches throughout the carriages to protect us. Over these three days, what was fascinating was the procession of different people getting on at each station. At one point, the carriage I was in was inundated with Indian hermaphrodites. They were extorting money out of men by coming onto them. People were so terrified of them they didn’t question handing over their cash. One of them even looked like Naboo from the TV show ‘The Mighty Boosh’ - he flashed his withered weird tits at us and was really camp. Very surreal. It made me realise the world is weirder than I thought it was. This trip didn’t change my life, but it was the best adventure, ever. But what did deeply affect me was seeing a five-year-old girl playing and begging next to a motorway, whilst looking after two babies. She was playing amongst the dirt, the fumes and the heat, and seemed to be genuinely happy. She was oblivious to her predicament and I think of her often, especially when people complain and moan about their shit. These people have no idea what being in the shit really is.

To be honest, the most meaningful journeys I’ve had have been internally, through taking drugs - which is why people like doing them. A ‘trip’ is more enriching than any package holiday to Benidorm or seeing the Eiffel Tower. On LSD, one goes to another universe, yet physically you haven’t moved. It’s the same with dreams. You can have insights and understand how the world relates to each other, on acid or ecstasy you can realise how you feel about your parents and how it affects you. These experiences can be far more enriching than riding on a knackered old elephant in a national park in India. The idea was romantic, but the reality was tragic.”

Marcas Lancaster is a producer and remixer, living in London. His remix of Soft Cell’s ‘Say Hello’ is out now on ‘Heat: The Remixes’.

DANIELLE MOORE

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 08:13:17 GMT

DANIELLE MOORE
“My first trip away from home was when I was 18, back in ’89. I went to Berlin on a netball trip - we stayed at an army camp and also got to visit East Berlin. We had an amazing time and after we got home the following week the wall came down. I felt totally inspired by such an historic moment and the emotions that ran through me still stick with me today. It made me think about other people rather than myself. I found the city striking: the art, the no bullshit attitude, the bike rides, the gorgeous forests... Just outside the city centre the majestic architecture blew me away, such creativity really inspired me as a musical person.

I had never been affected by history before. I remember I had a real moment - I was standing at the wall near the athletic stadium where Jessie Owens won his five gold medals. The sky was grey and surrounding colours industrial. We were all very quiet and feeling sensitive to the place - there was a fence bearing the names of people who had died trying to cross the wall and the river to get to the West. I recall us girls peeking over the wall and spotting a German patrol boat on the river. Thinking about it now send shivers down my spine.

I will never take for granted the travel that I do in the band. Being able to visit new places offers a whole new perspective as well as making you appreciate home. For me, travel gives me confidence. Being thrown into unknown situations where you meet new people sheds light on yourself, shows you a reflection of yourself. But home is where the heart is, and there’re plenty of adventures to be had right there on your door step.”

Manchester lass Danielle Moore is the enigmatic lead singer in Crazy P, whose new album ‘Love On The Line’ is out this October.

SNAX

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 08:03:34 GMT

SNAX
“I’ve been on some very memorable journeys in my life so far. But it’s more the places than have meant something to me, rather than the journeys themselves.

Most strikingly for me was when I saw the Berlin Wall on my first trip to Berlin from New York in ’95. I was stumbling out of Club Tresor when my guide nonchalantly pointed it out to me. I couldn’t believe that what was then just a thin graffiti-covered wall had once before stood as a monument to cold war fear and paranoia. Ten years earlier I could’ve been shot in the exact same spot where I had fallen out of a hip techno club. I cycle past that wall every day now and it still blows me away.

Another incredible trip was when I travelled to Paris with Tara Delong and a handful of friends. She was my partner in the group Bedroom Productions when we lived in NYC and we were in Paris to play at the Andrea Reich gallery. It was our first time there and it was a wild time full of desperate partying, glamour and music. We were invited to dinner at a mansion belonging to the grandson of Pablo Picasso. We did bad drugs and someone smacked me on the head on the street for no apparent reason. A couple of years later, two friends from this trip died in strange and mysterious circumstances.

The most memorable moment from this bizarre trip was when we were on the way to our dinner at the mansion, Hillary and I started singing ‘The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan’ by Marianne Faithful - the part where she sings about riding through Paris in a sports car. That was what was happening at that very moment - we were riding through Paris in a sports car! So that, quite rightly, became the theme song of the trip. Paris was blurring past us while we were insulated in our cab singing at the top of our lungs.

I grew up in a hum-drum suburb of Maryland, so being somewhere I’ve never been before, seeing new cultures and meeting new people is hugely important to me. I feel like a different person. Through travel and seeing the world one is able to get out of oneself and gain new perspectives.

I’d like to see more of the Middle East. I’ve only been as far as Tel Aviv but I want to go further in and see what it really is like as opposed to what we’re fed on TV day in and day out. Also Japan, because I hear that visiting musicians are treated brilliantly!”

Snax is an American electro-disco-soul artist living in Berlin. His new EP ‘Trouble’ is out now on defDrive Records.

BEARDYMAN

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 07:57:23 GMT

BEARDYMAN
“I recently toured New Zealand and Australia with Bacardi. I travelled on a train for two days, up the South East coast of Australia from Melbourne to Sydney, stopping off to play two gigs a day. It was crazy. The bands I was touring with were all really safe and I loved the music and the vibe. That trip has definitely left a mark on me, really taught me a lot about how to handle myself around press, and being able to do interviews - and in all sorts of professional situations. I definitely became a bigger person. A long trip like this also made me determined to be true to what I want to do, more than ever before. I was inspired by the bands I met, one band called Pnau specifically - the way they record is to turn long jams into tracks. Also seeing how so many different bands conduct themselves, their ability to relax and talk about their work to journalists. Witnessing this made me more determined to make whatever music I feel like making and to be as industrious as possible.

I will always remember this trip, not just the laughs and the experience, but the smells and the sounds. Also the effect it has way after you get home. Travel makes you wiser as it shows you how other people live. I’d get on a plane every day if it meant me seeing a bit more of the world. I feel richer for having had experiences all over the world, seeing how different cultures respond to the same material. For instance, in Finland, they say ‘thank you’ after a gig. Not ‘well done’ or ‘that was amazing’, but ‘thank you’. I loved that. I want to experience as many cultures as possible. It’s all about getting as broad a perspective as possible. We only know what we’ve experienced, everything else is mere conjecture.”

Beardyman lives in London and is the current reigning UK beatbox champion.

MY INSPIRATIONAL JOURNEY 1/6

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 07:48:14 GMT

RONKE OSINOWO
“I had an unusual upbringing - I was fostered before the age of one to a white working class couple in Tilbury, Essex. My foster mother was a chronic asthmatic and couldn’t have children of her own due to her condition. My birth mother had me fostered so she could work as my biological father was studying and would soon enough return to Nigeria. I ended up staying until I was 18.

Anyone who’s ever been to Tilbury from the seventies to the nineties would’ve known or felt its edginess - a kind of menace hung around the town and it was famed in the local areas for violence, poverty, illiteracy and an air of racism. Being black, a girl and a child in this environment was a daily challenge. My book ‘I Bring You Tilbury Town’ is a collection of thoughts and images as I remember them of a particular time and place.

There have been many trips that have influenced me, but the one that affected me most profoundly would be the train journey from Tilbury Town to Barking when my foster mother used to take me to see my biological mother in Hackney.
I dreaded going to see my mother in London - the fear that she would decide one day to take me back was always with me. Tilbury station was right by the docks and a famously violent pub, The Ship. It was a Skinhead haunt and they would regularly beat up anyone ‘foreign’ that had the audacity to walk the streets. The station was littered with graffiti like ‘paki go home’ and ‘wogs out’.

Once on the train, the scenery soon changed from heavy industrialism to open fields, to wasteland, to tightly packed council houses and high rise flats, to concrete sprawls and eventually the city. The thing I remembered most about the journey was a bridge just past Barking station which had a huge NF logo painted in white on it. It always gave me a sense of fear, even though I didn’t know what it meant. To me it meant that I was unwanted, that I wasn’t welcome - that I shouldn’t be here. It always made my chest tight going under that bridge.

Even though I didn’t want to be separated from my foster parents, the trip to London filled me with a sense of possibility – that there was something other than my life as it was to experience. It filled my mind with possibilities, with the sense that there was something more out there, even though it was far beyond my reach at the time. This stretched my mind and my imagination, as a lot of the people from Tilbury had never been to London, even though it was just a 45-minute train ride away.

Travel to me is a crucial part of my mental development; it allows you to see difference without being threatened by it. It allows you to experience the ‘other’ without your own sense of reality being disrupted. It allows you to extend yourself as a person, to tap into pieces of yourself that are latent. Of course, physical travel can also be breathtaking, fun and challenging but mentally travelling is also very important. I travelled abroad alone for the first time when I was 18, but I felt that I had been far and away so many times before because of a strong capacity for daydreaming. I often imagined myself in certain places and though the reality was often different, my mental travel preparations still held strong sway as to where I wanted to go and what countries I gravitated towards in later life.

I’ve always wanted to experience living high up in the mountains like a hermit, or a monk on a quest to reach a total state of Zen in some remote region of China.”

Ronke Osinowo is a poet living in London. Her book ‘I Bring You Tilbury’ is out now on Author House.

THE EUROPEAN EXCHANGE II

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 10:53:15 GMT

The Euopean Exchange
Text: Paul Sullivan
Illustration: Leona List

WEB 2.0 – WHERE IS EUROPE?

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 09:30:42 GMT

Times are changing. The Web2.0 revolution has substantially altered how we talk, work and live online. A new paradigm has taken the burden of thinking about technology from the users. If you want to start a multi-lingual fanzine written by contributors around the world without ever meeting them in person, there‘s no technical reason not to start today. The Internet has finally become a social entity; you can build relationships here, which are purely online and couldn’t exist anywhere else. The times are indeed changing.

And yet, Europeans, Americans and Asians approach all of these innovations and the opportunities they open up quite differently. Tech savvy Indians have successfully embraced information technology to help their booming businesses become connected with the insatiable markets of the Western world. The United States has of course always been the centre of web modernisation with Presidential elections now partly dependent on infectious viral videos and ample facebook juice of the candidates. Talk about e-government.

But where’s Europe? While the vision of a borderless society is being realised in a somewhat tedious process it is merely non-existent on the net. And from the lookout in Brussels, there is no new Silicon Valley or European Bangalore in sight.

It looks more like China actually. Just as the People’s Republic is known for its notorious product piracy, Europe’s software manufacturers have a strong reputation for copy/paste innovation. Copycats are happily programming away clones of successful US competitors. While the difference between Chinese toys and the originals is getting increasingly hard to spot, this doesn‘t apply to European software production. Granted, there are some noteworthy companies with original ideas like Skype, Kelkoo and DailyMotion – but doesn’t the exception prove the rule? There is more than enough venture capital for fresh ideas, but the investors just don’t buy into Europe. Chances are slim that the next Google, Youtube, Facebook will be from Europe.

So much for the business side. The user‘s side is even gloomier: Korean students are forced to hand in their homework via their own website, for US citizens blogging has become a national hobby and the cell phone novel is replacing traditional literature in Japan’s bestseller lists. In the meantime Europeans still debate whether computers in classrooms are helpful at all.

While there is a digital élite – sometimes called digital bohemia for their idleness – in the cultural centres of modern day Europe, people not living in Berlin, Barcelona or Budapest are clearly left out. Television has become a somewhat fundamental human right. Why not have universal Internet broadband instead? Why not include blogging and wikis in the curricular of European grammar schools. The EU needs citizens who know how to handle a keyboard, not a remote control. Children all over the globe are proving that they are more than ready for this.

Again and again, politicians call for a European public. The second evolutionary stage of the internet, the Web2.0, has got all the tools at the ready; all that’s needed is a little education and encouragement to make the blogging public happen. Who says we can’t realise the decade old dream of Europeans having an actual dialogue? It doesn’t matter whether it’s online or offline - everything is better than non-line.

TEXT BY KOLJA LANGNESE

THE A TO Z OF YOUR EUROPE

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 10:16:31 GMT

A is for After-parties.
A dying breed in Europe it seems, after tough new legislation has put an end to all-day raves in Ibiza. This summer, clubbers will have no choice but to head to bed on the Party Isle once the clock strikes 6am.

B is for not-so Bendy bananas.
For some reason the EU Commission is determined to rid the world of crooked fruit. Regulation (EC) 2257/94 states that our bananas must be: “free from abnormal curvature”.

C is for Cucumber control.
Size matters where this fruit/veg hybrid is concerned. Some Euro crackpot has decided that a cucumber of less than 12 inches is a danger to society. Shouldn’t that be the other way round?

D is for Directive.
Legislation passed by the EU honchos in Brussels to, supposedly, improve our daily lives.

E is for ‘Euronating’.
The term Brits need to adopt in place of ‘spend a penny’ if they’re to qualify for the single currency.

F is for Flatulence.
Bars and pubs might be filled with fart gas post-smoking ban but, apparently, it’s our cows that need butt-plugging. Their anal emissions account for almost 25% of Europe’s CO2.

G is for Glastonbury.
Still Europe’s biggest and best rock festival, even with the heightened health and safety regulations.

H is for Hard hats.
A must for all those working at height according to directive EN397, which is all very well for builders but what about tightrope artists and acrobats? Hard hats and spangles is not a good look.

I is for Immigration.
A reality of modern European life which seems to get politicians all hot and bothered.

J is for Jaywalking.
While the Brits are fiercely protective of their right to cross the road where so ever they choose, this practice meets with harsh penalties in Poland and dirty looks in Germany.

K is for Kilts.
The EU caused Celtic outrage several years ago when they dared to consider reclassifying Scotland’s national dress as ‘womenswear’. Whatever would William Wallace say?

L is for (food) Labelling.
The latest weapon in the fight against obesity? According to the optimistic EU health commissioner, knowing how bad something is for us will stop us scoffing. Hmmm….

M is for Metric.
The measurement system adopted by most of Europe with one notable exception – those Brits just won’t say goodbye to their pints.

N is for Narcissism.
A trait common among modern European leaders, especially those papp’d poncing around with supermodels. And we’re not talking about Angela Merkel.

O is for Open borders.
Most EU states can look forward to a future of passport-free travel. No more last minute panics.

P is for Peter Mandelson.
Former political sleaze-bag now enjoying cosy retirement in Brussels as EU trade commissioner.

Q is Queen.
Can the monarchy survive in this modern age? Apparently so, no less than 12 member states still have some semblance of a monarchy.

R is for Recycling.
Countless directives have been passed trying to turn us into greener citizens. What’s next? A directive on where to compost your toe clippings?

S is for Smoking ban.
Stubbing it out is now common practice across Europe, but some states take it more seriously than others.

T is for Turkey.
Potentially the union’s newest recruit. Fingers crossed, their feud with their Greek neighbours really is over. Only time, and Eurovision, will tell.

U is for United States of Europe.
Is this the future?

V is for Vibrators.
Those fun-loving commissioners are urging ladies to recycle their used love-toys before buying new ones. Is nothing sacred?

W is for Wage.
20 of the 27 EU states currently have some form of minimum wage. The rest, including Germany and Switzerland, rely on trade union argy bargy to ensure fair pay.

X is for Xenophobia.
A once Europe-wide malaise now mainly practised by Burberry-loving Brits abroad.

Y is for Yugoslavia.
Gone but not forgotten.

Z is for zeal –
religious, nationalist or other. Too much of which tends to be at the root of most European troubles.

TEXT BY SERENA KUTCHINSKY

AM I EUROPEAN OR JUST CONFUSED?

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 09:50:39 GMT

When Mark Reeder arrived in Berlin from Manchester on a dreary night in 1978, he might as well have landed on another planet. Aged 28 and in Berlin as a representative for Factory Records - the label that gave the world Joy Division, New Order and The Happy Mondays - life was by no means easy. Berlin was a crazy place, split down the middle by a wall and full of draft dodgers, artists, crazies, gay men and grannies. “The corner bar on my street was owned by a big burly transvestite,” he recounts, “outside, a fat, one-legged hooker sat daily on one of those boxes that control the traffic lights.”

His flat had no telephone but luckily was opposite the “fernmeldeamt” (the main telephone exchange of west Berlin) in Schoeneberg. “Not everyone had a telephone in their homes back then, we all just accepted the normal channels of communication: phone, letters or if it was urgent, a telegram.” A letter to the UK would take almost a week to arrive, and a reply maybe two more. Getting from Manchester to Berlin by train or car took a minimum of 24 hours, or three hours by aeroplane. Phoning was all a question of being able to collect enough coins for the phonebox, which only took 10 pfennig pieces (about five eurocents) or one mark coins (50 eurocents) for a phone call to the UK that could cost up to 10 marks.“If you were unlucky,” says Mark “you would get cut off mid-sentence, which could drive you to the brink of despair.”

Fast forward to the Berlin of 21st century Europe. Like Mark was back in seventy eight, I’m a recent arrival in Berlin except this time it doesn’t feel like I’ve landed on the dark side of the moon. A lot has changed since the seventies. Sure I don’t use a hover board to go to the shops, and teleporting home after a morning at the Panorama Bar is still annoyingly some way off, but it’s a fact of life that most of my wildest sci-fi dreams as a child have come true. I communicate with the world via a handheld tablet that allows me to send emails, store music, take pictures, record videos or pull down googled addresses from the cloud of information that makes up the Internet that is now as much a part of the atmposphere as carbon dioxide. Speaking to my friends is done face to face through a computer screen thanks to the wonders of Skype or iChat. I use intercity travel by plane more often than I take a Berlin bus and I now live in a futuristic Europe where national boundaries mean nothing and my Myspace friends list defines the geography of my social life. Confused? So am I.

It gets worse. Last Christmas I went home three times. Once to England, where I’ve lived for the past ten years before moving to Berlin in October. Once to Ireland, my birthplace where I spent the first nineteen years of my life. And finally back to Berlin, my new home, where I now live a very exciting but confused experience of feeling like I’m everywhere at once. My work has a lot to do with it. I split my time between producing, DJing and freelance music journalism from my studio in Friedrichshain. Despite the fact I’ve moved six hundred miles, as far as my social and work life goes I might as well still be living in East London. Most of my day’s business is conducted in my boxer shorts, sipping English tea (a box of which is flown in every time one of my UK friends arrives via Easyjet), and if the weather is scheisse I may not even brave the streets of Berlin at all. At the age of 29, my friends and family are all over the place, Barcelona, Ibiza, London, Manchester, Dublin, Boston, India or Thailand, but thanks to Myspace and Facebook we maintain our friendships just fine. I get a message when one of them finds themselves “in a relationship” and my memory for remembering birthdays is a damn sight better than it used to be thanks to social network reminders. I video call my girlfriend in Leeds with Skype usually every night. We talk at length, we flirt, we smile, we frown, we laugh same as usual. Thanks to Easyjet, we see each other usually once a month or more. She’s a DJ too, so being apart means we have time to focus our energies on our respective professions and getting together is an adventure usually taking place in a European city somewhere we’ve never been, rather than the chore it seems to be for some of our friends in traditional relationships.

Its easy to forget how quickly these changes have taken place. “Before the nineties, a mobile phone was something you only saw on TV, or locked behind the unbreakable windows of a chauffeur driven Bentley,” remembers Mark Reeder. “I remember being told in the early eighties by a military friend about this amazing secret system of instant electronic computer communication being used by the US military for sending messages, but I had absolutely no conception of how it worked.”

“Email was a closely guarded secret. Getting it was akin to joining some kind of secret society, no one could tell you how it worked or how or where to get it from, and what exactly was the world wide web? Today, life is unthinkable without it.”

Cat Roberts, a journalist based in Madrid but originally hailing from Manchester in Northern England, is equally confused. She works for one of England’s best selling celebrity magazines that is based in Spain, but for work reasons can’t reveal the name of her employers (“My bosses want to keep up the illusion that we’re based in the UK.”).

“You’d think that writing for an English audience would be difficult living in Spain, but it’s really not. I sometimes feel like I know more about what’s going on in my country than my British-based pals do. My mum phones me to asks what’s going to happen on EastEnders because she knows I have to cover the story lines. It’s no different to being stuck in a news room in London, except that when I go out to get a coffee the sun is shining.”

Welcome to the new Europe. One where nationalities mean little and Internet connections mean everything. Where it’s crazy to think that little over fifty years ago we were trying to blow each other to smithereens in a world war. And it wasn’t even so long ago that we were arguing about whether or not Europe should have a single currency. Low cost airlines play just as big a part in our newfound Euro lifestyles. In 2008, over two dozen budget airlines operate in Europe. In 2005, 51.5 million passengers travelled the skies on cheap airline tickets compared to 3.1 million in 1996. This now means businessmen in Dublin commute to Brussels every morning on Ryanair flights while doctors in Poland commute once a week to the UK to earn 15 times the salary they’d earn doing the same job at home. Ravers in Maidstone can avoid a night of naff electro house nights and fly to Berlin for a night at the Panorama Bar and be back in time to fall into bed 24 hours later for much the same price as an expensive night out in London. But with the advantages come the arseholes. Most Eastern European cities are more than weary from the weekly invasions of tatty hen night gangs adorned with naff fairy rings or lairy lads wearing football shirts emblazoned with ‘Dave: Stag Party Mentallist.’ The Dutch, never ones to mince their words when it comes to question of race, have even gone so far as to plan the eradication of the red light district to rid themselves of this scourge. That means no more brothels, no more gawping tourists, no more daft sex museums, no more decadent clubs and if you’re in any way fun-minded, no more unique reasons to visit the city. Instead, Amsterdam’s De Wallen district is due a makeover, plans for a network of new “designer” shops are being drawn up, and ultimately what was one of Europe’s most unique cheeky iniquities is going to look like any old high street from Nice to Northampton.
But it seems before we’ve even fully explored what it is to be European, technology is stretching our identity even further. “Without the Net it would be impossible to keep up with my brother, who now lives in the Dominican Republic,” says Cat. “I don’t even know if he’s got a phone, but we chat regularly on Facebook. When I was ten, he lived in Africa for five years, in the days before Facebook. I spoke to him twice during that time and completely lost touch. Basically, the Net and all these social networking sites have made the world a smaller place.”

Electronic music culture, for one, has changed inconceivably since its inception in the 1980s. Then, records were made in a handful of cities, Chicago, Detroit, New York, London, or Berlin and disseminated through a network of tiny scenes and underground record shops. Travellers, international migrants or simply those lucky enough to be able to afford international travel discovered the music and the culture and brought it back to their own cities. The virus mutated into an anarchic mess of genres and sub genres, and all the while all this change and experimentation and mutation went on in the real world. When dance music entered the virtual world of chat rooms, social networks and filesharing, things started to really accelerate. Most people like me, who party at DC10 Ibiza in the summer, or the Panorama Bar in the winter, have social circles that extend worldwide. It is now likely that thanks to the free dissemination of music, it’s quite possible that the idea of buying and selling music will not exist in ten years time. Music will exist as a means of promoting an artist’s live show or DJ set. And as virtual presence becomes more and more possible, the idea of physical presence will become a more precious commodity.

Richie Hawtin has been at the frontline of all these changes ever since first hearing electronic music via Jeff Mills´ influential radio shows in Detroit in the mid 1980s. “I remember having a distinct conversation with Jeff Mills in the late 1990s and we were talking about being futurists,” says Hawtin. “And not only trying to be futurists by making futuristic music, but we were living twenty years ahead of mass population. Travel doesn’t mean anything to us. Skipping over to Tokyo and back to New York in 24 hours is part of our routine and if you look at my friends, it´s not the old type of idea where they are the people who live around the corner. My friends live around the world. When I get to Tokyo, there are a certain amount of people I hook up with to catch up on the last six months, and then the next day I’m gone.”
“Older people, especially parents, can’t understand how I can have friends like that, but there is a bond that you create when you put a certain amount of energy into when you’re with those people, and how you keep in touch with them when you’re not physically present.”

Now everyone is a futurist. Dance music and life in general are a very different experience. Now we are all futurists. As travel continues to be made faster and cheaper, and technology continues to make our social lives limitless, even the European identity to which we’re only still becoming used to is likely to become redundant. Instead, we’re living life as global citizens, from everywhere and nowhere at once. Plans are already afoot to merge social networks with virtual realities like Second Life. The technology already exists to photograph a room and make a cyber reality of that room. So imagine instead if your top friends list on Myspace becomes a virtual room where - once you’re wearing a virtual reality headset - you can inhabit a virtual space and speak to the virtual, three dimensional photographs of your friends. Think of it like Star Trek’s holodeck made reality, where the fact that even if your top eight live in LA, London, Paris, Mexico, Athens or Edinburgh, you can invite them round yours for a virtual catch up.

That’s all very well, but back in the reality of Berlin in 2008, the future can’t come soon enough. It’s a Tuesday night and after ending up on the wrong end of a piece of glassware, my girlfriend has bumped her head and is suffering a mild concussion. “Can you see the size of the bump?” she asks from her room in Leeds, leaning into the webcam, while six hundred miles away I view a nasty looking bruise through our skype video connection.

“I really wish you were here,” she says, looking into the camera forlornly. The technology of cyber realities may be imminent, the reality of global identities may already be here, but the practicalities of giving a hug from one side of Europe to the other are light years in the future. Confused? Yes. Alone? No. Connected? Not nearly enough.

TEXT BY GAVIN HERILHY

EUROPEAN CIRCUS

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 08:42:29 GMT

Of course, everyone’s familiar with the big names – Cannes, Venice, Berlinale – but what’s behind these trademarks, hardly anybody knows. Reason enough to take a closer look and answer the question of why three of the most important festivals are held in Europe. “We are European” it says on the cover of this edition of “Electronic beats” magazine. Pretty cocky, you think? Well then, take a moment to learn about the power that Berlinale, Venice and Cannes wield on the international market.

The basics
There are over 200 film festivals in Europe alone. The main focus can be on all kinds of things: young film makers, short films, animation, gay-lesbian topics, web movies or good old Bollywood. During the last few decades, though, Berlin, Cannes and Venice have achieved enough strength to outrival even the big US festivals in New York (Tribeca), Park City (Sundance) and Los Angeles (L.A. film festival). But what turned them into this mighty force that outshines everything and lures – like Cannes does – up to 20 000 journalists, film fans and stars into a little town on the Cote d’ Azur even though the prices are totally OTT? And what for? It all started in Venice with the decision to enrich the city’s diverse cultural offerings with a film festival. To this day, the oldest film festival in the world takes place each year in late August on the Lido, embedded in the large art exhibition “La Biennale”. The red carpet with its golden lions is impressive, but in spite of being the first in terms of time, the prizes awarded there every year – the “Golden Lion” (best film) and the “Volpi Cup” (best actor) – have only been second on the ranking list of the most important awards for some time now, thanks to the fascists! They were the reason the French minister of education staged a counter event when the worldwide film industry registered with horror the growing influence of the German and Italian fascists at the ”Biennale“. After the premiere was interrupted by the War and postponed until 1946, the Cannes film festival quickly established its reputation as the most influential and prestigious festival, conveniently held in May.

The extravaganza
What Cannes doesn’t have, no other festival has. The non-public festival presents a large number of categories, among others the ubiquitous main category of almost every festival: the “In Competition” section in which up to 20 films vie for the favour of the international Jury and the “Golden Palm” award. And here comes the subtle difference: it’s not uncommon for a niche product to find its way to a worldwide audience having won this coveted prize. Highly esteemed, the Cannes festival generates a one-of-a-kind contingent of media and industries. The sparks, of course, in our celebrity-penetrated perversion of society are the stars. If they’re nominated, they’re tempted not only by the walk across the most famous of red carpets – accompanied by classical film symphonies and hailed by thousands of fans – but also by the shortly following Formula 1 in Monte Carlo, and a three-day stay in luxury hotels like “Le Majestic”, the “Carlton” or “Martinez” (with its two helicopter landing places). First class flights included, of course. There are, of course, high returns – a normal apartment already costs 2200 € for those ten days in May. You can buy champagne for 36 000 € in normal restaurants – nevertheless the most expensive hotel in town, the “Majestic”, is fully booked 300 days in advance. And whoever wants to stay there has to be recommended by the festival. With all those superlatives, the press hype is a natural follow-on. Besides, the jet set likes to stage itself: Jerry Seinfeld sails on a tightrope from the tower of the “Carlton” to a private beach dressed like a bee. Naomi Campbell, as usual, celebrates her birthday to the max with star guests, and U2 (no, please...I know) give a late night concert on the red carpet. Speedboats illuminate the “Croisette” with fireworks, the world’s biggest yachts lie at anchor here, and whoever hasn’t been invited to the SoHo House Party in the little castle or to the Sharon Stone AmFAR Aids Dinner in the “Mougin” mountains is already a has-been. They don’t dig with spoons. In Cannes it’s all about pomp, exclusiveness, seeing and being seen. The principle is simple: in order to keep some of the so-called arthouse quality that is so important (as anchored in the original charter) for the cultural demands of a festival during all that hue and cry, the blockbusters are moved to so-called “Out of Competition” sections. A trick that makes the impossible possible: art and commerce celebrate together. “Star Wars”, “Da Vinci Code” or “X-Men” are far too important to be missed in the art trade. The film studios are generous: rumour has it that six digit sums are finding their way back to the festival. After all, Cannes offers global media coverage. That’s priceless – even for Hollywood. And because money attracts those ones who pull the strings, the film market is close by: distribution rights are put up for worldwide sale. Another rumour suggests that about 20 percent of the annual film deals are closed in the lobby of the “Majestic”. True or not, it’s business on a large scale. And to jolly the press along, they get the stars thrown at them during the day for interviews, or are invited to one of the countless society parties seething all over this city of 70 000 inhabitants. Up to 35 interviews in 11 days, 20 films, sleepless party nights and friends having sex in my bed or alternatively on the porch of my apartment. Cannes = state of emergency. I like to call it “festival mode”. No wonder that the allied forces wanted to bring some of that zest for life with a cultural touch to war-stricken Berlin. They called the capital a “window to a free world” after the liberation and tried to revive its former reputation as a European cultural metropolis with a vast cultural event. Well, they succeeded. Since its creation in 1951, the Berlinale opens the annual merry-go-round as Europe’s first A-list festival. More than 200 000 sold tickets establish its status as the largest public festival of the world. It’s been on a continuous upswing these past years, with visitors from 120 countries since festival (entertainment) boss Dieter Kosslick with his Berlin how-modern-am-I charm brought back some glamour to the capital. Everybody speaks English, the Wiener Schnitzel at the “Borchardt” is delicious, and the thick red carpet keeps the high heels warm even when it’s cold outside. What more could the international stars ask for? A pretty good position that the three A-list festivals in Europe are in now! But why not America, you might ask. Isn’t the American film industry usually ahead of us? Why do they let it happen? Because they have to. And because their own system makes it impossible for them to do anything about it.

European chicness
In Hollywood there’s always been the rule: what doesn’t work on the American market doesn’t work at all. As a consequence, American film festivals mainly take into consideration what might be said in their own press to achieve a good position on the US market, or give them the necessary buzz for the all-dominant opening weekend. Europe, they think, they can ftake care of later, and this arrogance destroys every chance of an internationally accepted and attended festival – and thereby of being part of the A-list ranking.

Another reason may be that most of the culturally challenging movies that normally dominate the main program come from countries in which the art of film isn’t measured by box-office charts and gag rates yet. That Europe has always been dominant on the arthouse scene is a well-known fact. That an A-list festival is held in a place where most of the participating films are produced just makes sense.

Last but not least, the advance in terms of time with the European festivals having been launched early turns out to be a great advantage over the otherwise dominating industry. Venice and Cannes happening in spring and late summer secured themselves dates for a Mediterranean festival climate that Berlin has also been lacking for years. By evening out this wet and cold disadvantage with its unique multicultural flair, the capital bravely managed to maintain its position among the most popular festivals of the world. Whether you try to explain the advantages of the location Europe with structures, timing or history – what’ll always be there is the culture clash that turns European film festivals into very special events that make everybody, once infested with the virus, want to come back.

Are we European? What do you think? I’d say as far as A-list festivals go, we clearly have to answer this with a resounding “Yes!”

TEXT BY JOHANNES BONKE

THE EUROPEAN EXCHANGE

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 08:18:16 GMT

Dance music, as we know it, may have been forged in the white heat of America’s discothèques, but it was the early electronic experiments of Europeans that laid the foundations. Russian inventors like Leon Theremin, French and German avant-garde composers/musique concrete practitioners like the three Pierres (Henry, Schaeffer, Boulez) and Karlheinz Stockhausen all played an integral role; and it was ultimately a German band – Kraftwerk – that really kick-started our dance-music revolution.

These days, Europe still boasts the most diverse scene in the world. We need only think of a handful of genres – Italo disco, Nordic cosmic house, ‘French Touch’, German minimalism, Dutch gabber, British trip hop and drum & bass - to see that Europe has been the most hardworking of blacksmiths, forging electronic music into the different shapes and styles we enjoy today.

After exploding in the US underground, dance music gained commercial success first in the UK, then throughout Europe. The key instigators – Britain and Germany – still dominate the scene today, leading the way in the European exchange of ideas, while absorbing new sounds and ideas from their multi-cultural centres and from outside.

A Tale Of Two Cities: the London-Berlin connection
“In the last few decades, a lot of bands and artists have moved periodically from London to Berlin and vice versa, in search of inspiration,” remarks techno producer Alex Tsotsos, a.k.a. GummiHz. “So a great amount of influence has developed between the two cities. Both have a lot to offer and also nurture a big creative community. Berlin is a bit more relaxed as it’s not as corporate as London still is, so there is a lot more space to think, which makes it a great place to develop your material. On the other hand, London offers such a wide variety of choice and cultural interaction. In my eyes, the two cities are quite opposite extremes, and opposites tend to attract.”

“Berlin is the avant-garde,” claims Alec Empire. “London takes the ideas and tries to make the ideas fit for a wider, more pop audience. When you work in Berlin, you always export; so does everybody in London, but because the UK is a much smaller country it offers the chance to let things cross over into the mainstream much more easily and more quickly. One increasing problem though, in my opinion, is England’s island mentality. A few decades from now, historians will look back and say that the UK should have probably moved towards Europe faster, rather than keep looking towards the US.”

DJ, journalist and publisher Jonty Skruff also sees the focus moving towards Berlin: “With gentrified New York and its neutered nightlife no longer the world’s capital city for the world’s artistic, alternative and ambitious individuals, London has filled the gap, though it’s increasingly edgy, expensive and dysfunctional, and is fast following Manhattan’s downward cultural spiral. Berlin, on the other hand, remains amazingly cheap and cheerful, with hordes of new arrivals eager to hang out and make friends. Many of these new Berliners are Brits; the Independent [Newspaper] recently estimated 10,000, and many of them are DJs, musicians and party people from London, though not necessarily British, bringing London energy to Berlin’s already bubbling pot. Toss in six London-Schönefeld flights a day from Easyjet, Skype, Jah Jah and laptop wireless connections, and you have a perfect storm of mutual musical confluence and action. Berlin is the new global nightlife city, and it’s only just begun.”

The Bigger Picture
While Berlin and London are doubtless the most talked about – and hyped – scenes in Europe, they represent only a small party of the jigsaw. As Alec Empire points out, there is a trend now towards a more European sound. “Now that cities are so close together, many producers come from smaller towns,” he says. “I see many new producers that moved to Berlin, for example, who are full of hope and excitement. This creates the future.”

It’s doubtless true that London, Paris and Berlin – the three key Euro-nodes - are more prolific and/or dominant in the electronic realm precisely of their population densities and their inherent multi-culturality. But it’s also true to say that they wouldn’t be half as interesting without the lesser stars in the European firmament, some of whom have enjoyed more than their fair share of attention. Throughout the nineties and noughties, electronic music spread far and wide, reaching into every nook and cranny of Europe, and there are very few nations left that don’t have some kind of scene, with usually a solid infrastructure (record shops, clubs, festivals, fashion outlets) to boot. Intensified by the rise of the Internet, the European scene has become an increasingly frenetic place, a blazing hotbed of ideas, sounds, fashions and, styles, which are exchanged at ever faster speeds. Broadband has erased physical boundaries. European integration has made travel easier. Budget airlines have made it cheaper.

“Music definitely varies geographically, and that is something I aim to get from a record,” reckons Nitzan Hermon, head of the notoriously open-minded Fine Art Records. “The relative geographic proximity of states overflowing with creativity and independent agendas is what makes things so versatile and fertile. That, and the fact that it’s a two-way road, is what gives the music its added value.”

Fine Art boasts several Norwegian signings, and the Scandis on the whole are a good example of how regions in Europe develop their own sounds and trends, incorporating everything from cosmic disco to jazz to spangly techno into their dancefloor productions. The Nordic countries also seem to have developed a reputation for more leftfield ideas and wild experimentation. “I think the Scandinavians generally dig experimentation so the music tends to be more underground,” concurs Jari Salo of Finnish renegades Pepe Deluxe. “This seems to apply to festivals too: once they grow too big, like Koneisto, they tend to get too commercial, lose their soul and then die quite quickly.”

Iceland also has a rep for punkish non-compromise, though the two-way traffic between this North Atlantic outpost and mainland Europe is tangible. “We get our dose of musical trends happening in Europe,” comments Iceland Airwaves festival’s director Eldar Astthorsson. “Cases in point would be the German and French techno and electro sound for the last couple of years. As I see it, this mostly affects the way people listen to music here in Iceland, rather than how they make it. Europe is also a mirror for how local music is appreciated in Iceland. A band, or a musical style popular in Reykjavik, being well received in Europe has an effect on the local scene.”

But not every country feels part of the European Exchange. “I feel that the Estonian club scene is not a part of the European scene at all,” avers Enar Essenson. “There's almost nothing coming out from here. What's being produced is all focused on the local market, except Rulers of the Deep and other producers that release on small labels now and then. Then again, there are very talented and interesting artists who can’t break free because the overall scene is so overloaded already. We miss some cooperation. If we had just one really powerful label to promote Estonian artists we could achieve much more, but instead, we have hundreds of small labels struggling for the local market share. But the local scene in Estonia is good – good clubs, many, many good artists, good audience, good parties.”

The Macedonian scene, while growing at a steady rate, also largely follows ‘western’ formats. “Seven years ago, the biggest obstacle in Macedonia was availability and access to music equipment,” says Katrina Mileska from SkopjeClubbing.com. “However, having a pair of monitors and a PC is today more than enough to make music, and things are slowly but surely changing in a positive direction, thanks to the Internet.”

The Net has, of course, been one of the most profound revolutions within the European scene in recent years, allowing producers and DJs to get more involved in the bigger picture. “Since the new digital era, many countries have managed to keep up their level of work,” states Zhivorad Millich, a.k.a. DJ Lion, a Serbian-born DJ/producer now resident in Sofia. “Our USB Digital label is giving us the opportunity of releasing our music worldwide, and is a great influence for younger generations. Countries like Germany and the UK had their musical “collisions” years ago. Many established international names visit us here and say it’s a very warm and energetic scene, which probably comes from the fact that while others had their musical revolutions years ago, ours is still young and energetic.”

East Is Best: the Balkan boom
“Regional European differences within music have been explored for a long time,” comments Swiss-Iranian producer and DJ Samim, “and with the dawn of the EU this process has accelerated. More interesting is how European countries are still ‘digesting’ the culture and ‘stuff’ they picked up through colonialism and more recently through international integration (e.g. refugees, the Internet, free trade etc.). All major European music trends of the last few centuries can somehow be linked to this. Just have a look at cities like London or Berlin. It’s fascinating to see the dawn of ‘mega cites’, which in many ways are more important than Nation States in the 21st century. It’s no surprise that these hubs are deeply interlinked and produce strong synergetic effects between them, which are more dominant than the competing forces.”

Samim – whose ex-girlfriend from Croatia exposed him to the “melancholy and deep emotions which define their music” – is one of a new wave of producers looking towards traditional Eastern European music for inspiration. With festivals like Exit hitting record numbers, Ricardo Villalobos putting out 37 minute songs like “Fizheuer Zieheuer” (based on a sample of a gypsy song by Blehorkestar Bakija Bakic, “Pobjednicki Cocek”), The Italoboyz’ “Zinga” using Eastern violin players, and the likes of Romanians Raresh, Pedro and Rhadoo all exploring folklorish sounds, there is a definite turn towards the East of late.

British DJs Russ Jones (Future World Funk) and Felix Buxton (Basement Jaxx) have been digging on Eastern vibe too, releasing their acclaimed compilation album “Gypsy Beats & Balkan Bangers” - though perhaps the most significant focus for the worldbeat Balkan explosion has been Bucovina, a club in Frankfurt run by DJ Shantel, whose grandparents live in the town of the same name (now part of the Ukraine) and who has been fiercely championing these Eastern fusions.

“I guess from a DJ /club point of view it has only been more recently in the last three years that Eastern European music has become really popular,” says Russ Jones. “Within that time, the main sound has been Gypsy and gypsy-inspired music. I think the main reason for this has been because a few producers have really got their act together from that region and turned to their roots to create some great music. This has inspired others and there is a general trend for proper groups and artists to turn back and celebrate their indigenous creativity, from established bands like Tarafe De Houks to newer acts like Mahaha Rai Banda.”

Klezmer, a folk music developed by Ashkenazi Jews in Eastern Europe, has also been en vogue via bands such as Oi Va Voi and London-based Ghettoplotz, who are part of the so-called Hassidic House movement. Mixing old recordings of virtuosic Klezmer clarinettists with house and jungle beats and fusing Madonna with Jewish choir recordings, GhettoPlotz migrate Jewish music onto the dancefloor and develop a thriving Jewish Club scene at Yid Kandi events.

“We were working on straight-up house tracks together when we were inspired by the Asian beats scene to integrate Jewish roots music into our production,” explains Ghettoplotz’s Mark White. “We’re both committed to Judaism in different ways and it just made sense to draw on this original Jewish party music to make our tunes stand out. It adds depth and originality to the tracks and means that two worlds collide when we play. Bands like Gogol Bordello and Balkan Beat Box have also helped, and DJ/producers like Sinden, Switch, Herve & Jesse Rose are doing it for us at the moment, incorporating samples from all over and using weird folk songs chopped up with glitchy beats. It’s great that producers are abandoning the same old tired discos/eighties samples and venturing into new territory.”

Europe remains a deeply diverse – and sometimes divided – place, but the last few years have seen a number of positive integrative changes and accelerated exchanges. In the absence of a universal spoken language, European music – from the modes of Ancient Greece to the DJ productions of today – is very likely the closest the peninsula will get to a Pan-European form of communication. Let’s keep on talkin’.

TEXT BY PAUL SULLIVAN | ILLUSTRATION BY LEONA LIST

IN PRAISE OF EURO FAST FOOD

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 16:27:34 GMT

McDonalds, Subway, Burger King, KFC, Pizza Hut, Domino’s - you can keep them all. And the same goes for fine-dining, Michelin stars, “slow food”, Routiers, places with cutlery on the tables, restaurants you need to reserve, and tavernas, bistros and boîtes in cool cities that you need a guidebook to get to. My guilty pleasure is late-night fast food, and I like it independent, nocturnal, unhealthy and quite possibly life-threatening. But most of all, I like it European.

Personally speaking, there is no finer European experience than to stagger through the phosphorescent streets of Madrid, Oslo or Dublin at one, four or six a.m., ragged, disorientated and starving, quite possibly in love or drunk to the point of suicide, to whichever neon outpost of the night is prepared to serve me something hot, cheap and fried, or chilled, sweet and served in a paper bag, a serviette and, at most, a plastic fork. There is stuffing your face at six p.m., and then there is stuffing your face at six a.m., but the way I see it, there’s absolutely no competition.

It started for me with something called “flan”, years ago when I lived in the western fringes of France. Every night was the same: we got roaring drunk on Pelforth in Charly’s Bar, pub-like place that defied the French convention by playing good music. At two a.m., we would wander to a night-time patisserie heaving with French fancies. Between the usual croissants, pains au chocolat and chaussons de pommes, “flan” would beckon at me the way a crack dealer winks at an itchy addict nosediving into bad comedown.

“Flan” was a thick wedge of custard tart, and nothing else finished off a night like a guilty slice or three of “flan”. Time after time I fell asleep, dreaming thick vanilla dreams, and never once woke up with a hangover. Since then, I’ve made it a mission to end every night away from home in the same way, all across the world.
Food is one of the most immediate ways a visitor can orient him or herself in a new country. Personally, I’m not one for the guidebooks: I prefer to get trashed, get lost and then finally, get stuffed. Sometimes, it’s an almost religious experience.

My map of Europe isn’t big in city and street names. Instead, it’s a network of gastrological impressions illuminated by the perspex signage of anonymous back street or harbour front locales with names like Pizza Show 24, Big Chef, Best Gyro House and El Rincon Ultimo – places that definitely aren't going to win a Zagat rating any time soon.

Some Euro Fast Food does the job better than others. I got more of a sense of the Italian character by cramming hot panini or slices of funghi pizza, the ultimate speed-food, at three a.m. somewhere in Verona than I ever did from studying the works of Caravaggio. Similarly, freshly baked croissants – the bigger and more buttery the better – scoffed at sunrise somewhere near the Rue Oberkampf in Paris, give more comfort to an existential hangover than anything Sartre or Camus could offer. Washing down <tapas> or <mariscos> or crunchy orange boquerones, calamares and gambas with a bottle of Bock at three a.m. deep in Cadiz, Barcelona or Ibiza town can be a hazardous manoeuvre if you don’t have a seafaring stomach. On the other hand, it can be fast-foodie heaven.

If you’re socialising in Northern Europe, there is no better way to punctuate an evening on lethal nine per cent+ Belgian ale than with a bag of frites slathered deep with mayonnaise, and perhaps followed by a couple of waffles with silky Liegeois sauces.

Naturally, British fast-foodophiles salute the humble bag of battered cod and chips, doused in salt and malt vinegar and destroyed as you collapse in a deserted East London bus-stop, wondering where it all went wrong. The only way to improve on the experience is to do likewise in Edinburgh or Glasgow, substituting the vinegar for “soss” – an unctuous sloppy relish whose ingredients are kept a close government secret. Adventurous midnight <mangeurs> on the British mainland also occasionally opt for a saveloy in subconscious homage to their German friends. But if it’s sausage you prefer, it goes without saying that Deutschland does it best - knackwurst, bockwurst, bratwurst and currywurst are the foodstuffs of dreams.

Naturally, the Scandinavians do their fast food in style. And it may have been surströmming and tunnbröd - fermented Baltic herring on flatbread – I ate after one particularly dazed and confused night in Stockholm, and certainly it tasted magnificent, if memory serves (unlikely, I know).

Further afield still, you can restore your flagging spirits with bowls of raging pho at dawn on the sidewalks of Vietnam, bowls of pad Thai or red jungle curry served under the palm trees of Koh Pha Ngan, and seriously irie jerk chicken with peanut satay from a roadside shack in Jamaica, delivered to a soundtrack of Cutty Ranks or Supercat. But all in all, there is one European fast food that I will return to again and again, even though, strictly speaking, it’s not even European: the Doner Kebab. Nothing has seduced the late-night appetite of the dedicated Euro hedonist like the elephant-leg-on-a-spit. You regret it the next day, your fingers stink of onions, and the chill sauce burns your tongue and aggravates your stomach.

Nevertheless, the kebab is the midnight mirage that delivers every time. The ultimate drunkard’s dinner, it will never be colonised by the American conglomerates, or ever be evolved into something approaching fine-dining, and that’s why the simple kebab wins the Euro Fast Food competition every time. It makes me want to get drunk and go for a wander just thinking about it.

TEXT BY KEVIN BRADDOCK