Cruising on a Friday.

Helsinki Cruising Club takes over Nosturi on the first Friday of each summer month, featuring goodies for fans of the fifties, rockabilly fiends, vintage car enthusiasts and the entire scope of hair gel aficionados alike. Organized in cooperation with Fullsteam Agency and Hellbilly Crew, this a niche club night the likes of which have recently been paralleled only by Club Wanted at Lepakkomies. And the demand is there, tapping its Creeper-covered foot impatiently. 

The first thing we notice is the row of pastel-colored vintage vehicles parked in front of Nosturi. It's not even nine yet, but the terrace of Alakerta is filling up quick, with girls in swooping dresses, hair tied back with ribbons, and guys clad in Hawaii prints and turned-up trouser cuffs. 

It's not quite Hawaii, nor is it the fifties. But the sun is still in the sky and the air is warm. Rob Coffinshaker from Swedish rockabilly band, the Coffinshakers, can be heard crooning from inside. He sounds like he's channeling a forlorn Johnny Cash. The dude at the next table with the pompadour nods his head in tune. I sip on my icy cider, and Esa and i comment on how sometimes, the city is perfect. 

The good mood persists when we check out Mike Bell and the Belltones upstairs. I'm a huge fan of the stand up bass, and the slapping this old bass is getting makes me wanna join the throng of dancers from decades back in the front row. I'm almost as impressed by the guitarist's choice of clothing. That Hawaii print shirt and baby-blue trousers make for some serious eye candy.

This is straight up, honest and simple rockabilly - the kind you need to see live for it to really stand out in a genre which suffers from a continuous surplus of legend-imitators and uninventive lyricists. The band's stage presence and  Mike's disarmingly geriatric-sounding singing are part of and experience that just doesn't communicate in the same way via CD. 

Be that as it may, based on the gig, i think i'll have to get the album anyway. To listen to on days when the sun isn't shining, the cider isn't cold and the city isn't perfect. Rockabilly will  make it better.

A One Night Stand

There was something significant about Saturday night. In addition to savoring the glorious feeling of a subsiding hangover, standing in line outside Nosturi, i was taking in the buzzing anticipation rippling through the crowd. Bittersweet as it may be, this is the one and only, last ever gig Finnish punk fiends Manifesto Jukebox and Endstand are ever gonna play. 

The folks in line know this, and this is surely a show some of them have been looking forward to for years. At nine in the evening, the line is immense - the second half of which was behind me at the time the above photo was taken. Nosturi is sold out. 

The place is packed. After making it inside, i spend most the Wasted gig trying to find a spot where 160 cm is a tall enough height to get a view of the stage. These spots are scarce in a sea of fist-pumping people and the occasional stage-obscuring Mohawk.

Manifesto Jukebox has been around since 1998. It's clear these guys know what they're doing, and after the first five minutes it becomes evident their attitude hasn't suffered  regardless of their absence from the Finnish punk scene in the past couple of years. I gotta hand it to Antti Luukkainen. In addition to being rather charming in his role as vocalist for the Atom Notes and singing bluesy tunes in Last Calls, he manages a rather convincing scream. My admiration is cut short when, suddenly, from somewhere in the dimness, a pint comes sailing and hits me in the head. Having stated my whopping height above, and the ratio of tall people and even taller hair, i'm not sure how this was possible, seeing as i was quite concealed (at least when it came to glimpsing the stage). Nevertheless, the plastic vessel in question managed to avoid every head but mine. I almost had to laugh when it happened - this was clearly karmic payback for the unproductive and slightly hazardous habit of pint-throwing i sometimes slip into in the wee hours of the night. That'll teach her. There's no question, i deserved it.

By the time the band finishes, the heat is becoming intense. I race to the bar (along with half of the folks there) and, after deciding not to risk what's promising to be a good night with a beer, order a pint of coke. I weave my way in back through the crowd and we settle in front of the black curtain drawn in front of the stage and wait.

  

I've never seen Endstand before, i've only heard stories describing the relentless energy of frontman Janne Tamminen. And i'm not disappointed. He looks like a big kid on stage. Until he opens his mouth. And roars. He has a presence, and he puts all of it into the music. A circle pit forms almost instantly, drawing half of the people present into the spiraling whorl. There's clapping and screaming. There are fists in the air. There are people on stage, jumping into the audience. There are people who have flown in just to see this gig.  "We're just a bunch of small town guys who had too much time on their hands - if we can do this anyone can", Janne says. Too quickly, the gig is over and the guys have left the stage. I realize my t-shirt is sticking to my back. I turn around, look into the crowd and see something i've never seen before: the roof of Nosturi is sliding open. It looks more than a little surreal, seeing the clouds from inside. The night air feels nice. What a night of firsts and lasts.

Heavy Metal Bingo

Last weekend a mass of black-clad folk flocked to the shores of Ruoholahti and descended on Kaapelitehdas. The glinting studs, the billowing leather jackets and the involuntary neck spasms and hair tossing meant that Finnish Metal Expo had come to town once again. The annual event, which is the love child of a bizarre three-way between an exhibition, marketplace and festival showcases all manner of things pertaining to metal and music. Needless to say, the music is loud, the hair is long and the beer is a-flowing.

And so it was that Tuomas and i found ourselves in the midst of the leather-suited men and corseted women, slightly lost and more than a little out of place. But we were here on a mission. And not just any mission, a mission that we were awaiting with equal amounts of trepidation and good humor: In this convention for the satanically-inclined, we were gonna be hosting bingo. Yessir. 

Our bingo-hosting was gonna take place at the Nosturi stand, where we had been happily drafted to entertain expo-goers. In addition to bingo our fun-and-games arsenal consisted of a seriously difficult heavy metal trivia quiz, and Satan vs. Jesus foosball. In previous years the stand had been manned by an unbeatable foosball god, a title to which neither Tuomas or myself felt we had any claim to. Which is why we (and the smart folk at Nosturi) felt it prudent to include other pastimes as well, lest we lost the weekend's quota of give-away tickets within the first hour. And so armed with games we came. 

To our surprise, turns out that Tuomas was far from crap at foosball, and for the two times that i had previously tried my hand at the game, i wasn't half as shit as i expected (and i won against Tuomas). What's more, we weren't the only ones to think our stand was the shit. The hardest of heavy metal fiends threw aside their prejudices (and skull-mounted staves, as was also the case) and got their bingo hat on for the chance to win free tickets to various gigs at Nosturi (or a lollipop, in case they lost.)

Tuomas and i agreed that in addition to assuming the role of a bingo caller, rocking at foosball and occasionally sneaking off for a clandestine pint, making people happy by giving them tickets to see their favorite bands was the best part of the job. I mean, look at the dudes in the photo above, who rejoiced and praised the heathen gods after winning tickets to see Fear Factory. If that's not love and dedication, i don't know what is. 

Moreover, spending two days quizzing people on some seriously arcane metal lore has its perks. 'Oh yeah?' you say. Yeah, cause now i know which song Udo Dirkschneider did not cover back in 1986. Betcha you don't. 

Zombies, Psychos & Dead Girls Coming to a Bar Near You!

Fans of all things psychobilly will be rubbing their hands together in delight while inspecting the gig lineup for several venues around town for the next couple of months. And hell, there's good reason, with great shows arriving to bedazzle folk from at least January to April.

This year kicked off with a wicked bunch of bands at Yabba Dabba Do at Loose last Saturday. Having seen both Gun Molls and Gangsters and Atom Notes at Hela-torstai klubi some months ago (and written a note about it here), i won't go into that in too much detail. Let it be said, though, that the Atom Notes' playing was as furious as ever, and that Mika on the guitar was still as dashing as ever. My personal highlight, however, was seeing The Patsy Walkers. The ladies haven't played gigs in what seems like ages, so in their absence i've had to content myself with renditions of 'Wolfman' in the shower (occasionally elsewhere, too). Needless to say, i was thrilled to hear they were going to be back on stage. Also, this gave me the opportunity to rifle through my wardrobe to find the Patsy Walkers band shirt i had discovered at Hietsu kirppis last summer, and promised both myself and the girl selling it that as soon as the band took to the stage again, the shirt and i would be in front row. Which we were. Compliments for choice of clothing were received from both band members and jealous fans. Sweet.

Onwards into the year, February gets to a lovely start with Blues Trash Cabaret at Loose, featuring Russian surf and b-movie inspired band Messer Chups. After seeing them at Tavastia's Psychorama last summer, i took a serious fancy to the Chups. Movie-sample saturated instrumental music and a stage presence that comes across as fabulously indifferent somehow manage to root you to the spot and forget about that third pint you were going for. Or maybe its the enchanting Zombiegirl on bass. In any case, this is the life-soundtrack of choice i'd prefer to have play in my head. Not kidding, definitely one to see.

Zombie Noise festival sweeps over Nosturi on February 20, bringing to town old school psychos, Mad Sin. These dudes are old but notoriously tireless, and if one is in the mood for sweat, spit, and a whole lotta man, this is the place to be. Other festival bands include French psychobilly group, the Astro Zombies, and domestic talent Relentless. And for a host of more homegrown talent, one needs only to head down the stairs to Alakerta, where the T-bird gang, The Bullet Biters and The Black Magic Six take the stage. 

And last but definitely not least, Nekromantix. Ah. This is a band i've never seen live, but have always wanted to. Which will go some way in explaining why i'll be screaming like a little boy in the front row when i hear the chorus to Dead Girls Don't Cry. <3






6.2.Blues Trash Cabaret, Bar Loose
20.2 Zombie Noise Festival, Nosturi
1.4 Nekromantix, Nosturi