A daytime shot taken a few days ago of the Metelkova club Jalla Jalla. Nothing is happening. All good punks are asleep and dreaming. Anarchy in repose.
Last night I made it out to a local hardcore show at Metelkova. I don’t know whether I’ll have another opportunity before I go, so I’m glad I got out. As I walked up, some metalworkers and jewelry crafters were still out front with a hot furnace pounding things into shape on an anvil. The bill was mercifully just one local act and one touring band from Berlin, and I only stayed for the locals, a group called Menmendas. They were tight, the sound was good, and the crowd was behind them. I’m sure the Berlin act was good, and intellectually I know we are all brothers and sisters in the struggle against all forms of capitalist oppression, but I don’t need to stick around to see Germans colonize this Balkan scene any more than they already do through other, more administrative means. What’s more, I have a meeting with a local rock historian I needed to be ready for.
Out front of Jalla Jalla
After a delay due to stores being barbarically closed on Sundays, preventing me from buying detergent, and then surmounting the realization that there were no dryers in the laundry room here, my laundry is done and hanging to dry in my room, and I am off to a meeting later today. End dispatch.