A couple of months ago I was asked to write a small travel diary from my time in Berlin. It was for the Japanese magazine Cookie Scene. As it was entirely translated and published in Japanese, I thought sharing the original English version here.

Schönhauser Allee U-Bahn station is noisy. The train’s wheels screech, the crowd bowls over the stairs, hasty pedestrians finding their way throughout Prenzlauer Berg, Berlin. I’m there, a bit lost, my German language skills are not the best, I’m a bit shaky and tired after two sleepless nights. First one traveling all over the Atlantic. The second one at a Camera Obscura gig, and then at an after-party at Club King Kong. I look around the station for a familiar sign. Up and down, left to right, the people, as shadows, flicker. My bag is a bit heavy, I carry around 20 CDs for the DJing night. I have big expectations, I have a great arsenal of indiepop tunes.

I’m meeting Uwe and Olaf from Firestation at Uwe’s apartment. It’s a bit cold outside the big avenue. I pass by a Mediterranean restaurant called Alhambra. I pass by a tattoo shop. I never liked tattoos. I ring Uwe’s. The door opens and I go up the stairs as if I knew them by memory. I had been there last year, but it seems ages. Great! I meet Uwe again! a BIG hug! This is serious, I’m at the indiepop master’s place. I go through his records. I rummage. I choose around 10 records I want to get from him. I could choose a hundred, but my budget is a bit tight. Then Olaf arrives. We are going to get some Eastern European food at a new place around the corner. When we get there, it’s full. We go to another restaurant, and we like it. They have chicken. We like chicken. The three of us order chicken. On my European trips, I always enjoy going to eat out with meat eaters, usually it’s always vegetarians, and that is always a turn off when I want to appreciate food. Anyways, food is great and we drink these huge glasses of beer. I’m secretly feeling proud. I ordered my food in perfect German, or at least the waitress understood me clearly.

After getting up to date, gossiping about indiepop, the latest bands, the latest trends, which records we are releasing next and so, we leave the restaurant in search for the enigmatic Schwalbe. Uwe usually DJs there, and he has told me many stories about it. Sometimes the polizei comes and asks to turn the volume down. I hope not this time. After a fifteen minute walk on a chilly autumn night, we arrive. It’s a pretty place. The lights are not that bright, and there’s a poster pasted at the door stating I’m DJing. Feels good. I don’t get many chances to DJ in Miami. No one knows indiepop here. I meet Andi from the Pop Assistants who will also team up with us on the DJing gig. He is very nice and friendly. The Pop Assistants are like a booking agency, they bring superb bands to Berlin. I meet the owner of the place too. She asks me if I want beer. Of course I want beer! And I get it for free!! I get a Becks. Not my favourite, but you never complain about what’s free. At around 10pm Andi starts DJing. I’ll go after.

I start my “hit parade” with Second-Hand Furniture’s “There’s Nothing to Celebrate”. Instantly a lot of people come by and ask me what is it! It’s such a wonderful song to dance, so no wonder! Now Care’s “Flaming Sword”. I notice people enjoying it. Catchers’ “Cotton Dress”. Typhoon Saturday. Some Kirsty Maccoll. And I continue playing my favourite songs. I’m on my element. It feels great. And the beer keeps coming. And the laughs keep coming, and all the popkids are enjoying the night. My heart beats tunefully. Berlin is mine for a couple of hours. I’ll be back in ten days, but I won’t DJ here anymore.

Uwe takes over the decks. He tells me he has to always start with Aztec Camera if not, things don’t go right. He gets a bit nervous before DJing. It’s strange for me, he always DJs, he should be totally used to! But he isn’t, and that’s the charm of it. I sit next to the decks, on a large couch with my friends. We take photos. We try some dance moves. We dream of me staying in Germany. I still dream about it, wonder why there are stupid immigration laws. Shouldn’t we all be free to choose where to live and where to work? Borders are unnatural. They are an artifice, they are absurd. But we are not angry or disappointed. We are happy, indiepop is beating and the night is ours.

I get one more round at the decks. I would lie if I say I remember what I played. It’s quite late and beer has been flowing like the Rhein river. Then Uwe takes over again. In a blink of an eye it’s already 4am and I need to go. The party could have lasted longer, maybe till 6 or so. But I have a plane to catch. I’m leaving at 8am to Stockholm. I have a DJ adventure there this same day. It will be my third sleepless night but I feel fine. Energized. I’m living an indiepop dream. I leave the Schwalbe sad, I wish I could have hang out more with the Firestation guys. But I’ll see them again on my way back. It’s farewell but it’s not goodbye.

The chilly night has become warmer after such a party. I walk towards the closest U-bahn station. The streets are noiseless. It’s a clear sky and the moon squashes me. Berlin has inspired me. I just count the days when I’ll be back. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can stop indiepop.

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Listen
Strange Idols – Berlin