This is my first chapter in a loose series of questions I discussed with the Finnish “borgacore” band Bob Malmström. We had a great time at Nummirock discussing the essential questions of the borgacore life style and the festival season 2017. Outstanding situation require outstanding measure, it is said and so I choose to present the discussion of each question in a single chapter.
So what would you expect meeting the one and only true kings of borgacore? How can you able to prepare appropriately for such an honourable appointment? Is there a way at all to prove worthy of meeting the kings – I was wondering for weeks. But then the kings turned out to be surprisingly approachable and open to contact with the simple people, such as me. I should simply approach them after their show! I was excited. So excited. And I was even more as – incredible as it might sound – three out of four of the true kings joined me for the discussion of my unmerited questions. Appropriately they choose to sit with me in the VIP lounge cosily on one of the leather couches lubricating tongues and thoughts with some Chilean red. Respectfully I choose to sit on a simple chair.
The 8-legged killed the 2-legged
“I am honoured to be received by the one an only kings of borgacore and I shall hope that the reception of the true kings on their latest tour through Germany, well the unworthy clubs of Germany”
“Very unworthy…”, Carl Johan Langenskiöld points out.
“… has been just as appropriate.”
“Was that a question?”, Carolus Aminoff laughs and I nod a bit shy. “No, it’s been great both, here and in Germany”, he says smiling already and adds after a little break in a serious tone, “except for Braunschweig!” I was about to laugh. But was it appropriate to laugh on the suffering of the kings of borgacore? Could I risk being so bold? Their facial expressions make very sure: Braunschweig must have turned out to be a very unworthy experience. “Well the reception AND the beer was …” laughing … “BAD!” – “And the organiser of the event took all our money and ran!” Mr Olof Palmén explains his disappointment: “It’s quite unimaginable because in Germany there is very good beer, brilliant beer, excellent beer. And Braunschweig was like …” he is missing the words, apparently still trying to keep some standards in expressing himself and describing the poor situation with a minimum of grace when actually there wasn’t. I am fully taken by their apparent humour with which they take this most indecent incident. So I fill in the good, old German term: “Plörre” (meaning a drink that does not even meet the lowest standards). After thinking a couple of more seconds Mr Aminoff reveals the full tragedy of the local Braunschweig beer they were offered to swallow: “Somebody drank German beer and pissed. And then drank that and then pissed and that was the beer!” The disgust in his voice is as obvious as in the choice of words of Mr Palmén’s statement: “And still they were very, very proud of it.” And Mr Aminoff supports, “Yeah, they were very proud of their local beer.” I have to admit: “That’s all the same. All local breweries are very proud of their beer no matter how bullshitty it is.” Near desperate in the traumatic memory the three musicians agree with me putting on top: “This is coming from people from Finland!” – “But beer-side, so sort of most premises of the most places in Germany have been great, especially Ellwangen …” – “Yeahhhh”, I say explaining: “That’s the about the area where you will have great beer. You will find many craft beer breweries, excellent small local breweries and also really great breweries of organic beers. That’s the area to find the top most beers in large choice in Germany.” – “The place in Cottbus, they had a fantastic beer, as well. And the premises they had sort of set up places where we could sleep at the venues and those were fantastic. … Braunschweig”, and Mr Langenskiöld pronounces each letter very distinctly and with a growing note of terror in his voice, “it was …” Mr Aminoff continues: “not as good!” “… it was a thing you can’t imagine! It was something, you know, from a horror movie.” – “Oh”, I swallow. “You couldn’t actually imagine yourself laying down on the mattresses there. Something would eat you alive!” – “Well, and probably something had been killed there the night before” – “It smelled and looked like that.”
The image of a gloomy room with no window at all but filled with a sickening stench, worn-out and with dried blood covered bedsteads along the dirty concrete walls and an oily liquid dripping from the ceiling appears in my mind. “Two, four, six or eight legs – the thing that was killed the night before?” – “Oh, ah … I think, all of them!” Mr Aminoff explains with some minor trembles in his voice still taken by the newly woken memory. “Especially two legs”, I hear followed by: “The two-legged creatures were killed by the eight-legged creatures.” – I nod “Yeah, that makes sense to me.” “Yeah, think so”, Mr Aminoff confirms. “I would say all that with all the gigs we ever played everywhere Braunschweig was the anti-climax – of everything.”
… to be continued
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