The Road to Drum & Bass

I like to consider my music tastes eclectic, growing up I would listen to one style of music and hammer it home without most other genres interrupting my 'dedication'. My introduction to music started when I was young, my earliest recollection being in the car with my parents and being forced to listen to their music loves. There was (thankfully) no Pepper Pig when I was growing up. My Father would listen to Bruce Springsteen, Tracy Chapman, Robert Palmer and The Commitments to name but a few. To this day I still love the music of Bruce Springsteen and Tracy Chapman, the albums Born In The USA and Tracy Chapman are still some of my favourite musical depositories of all time. My Mother would listen to pop and electronic music of the 80's, namely Depeche Mode, Human League, Alison Moyet and Ace of Base to again name but a few. I believe this early exposure to electronic and rock music have paved the way for my current music tastes and influenced me more than I ever thought they would.

When I was around 13-14 I was heavily into Dance music and many of it's associated sister genres such as Trance, Techno and Happy Hardcore, generally all of which were on the tame and commercial side. I used to get quite a bit of stick for this at school as the popular boys were listening to Rage Against The Machine and At The Drive In. The guys who were not as popular as the 'A' group (but still of much vaster popularity than myself) were into Hip Hop, for this my music tastes would be mocked as 'computer noises' and other derogatory electronic nonsense by both groups. I went to a private school in the UK, classes were small in terms of the number of people, so bullying was pretty hard to get away with. This coupled with the fact I was a pretty big boy those days (vertically and horizontally) prevented me from clashing too much on music styles and kept me out of harms way.

British electronic legends 'The Prodigy', their album released in 1997 entitled "The Fat of The Land" was
an album that made regular apperances throughout my senior school years.



As I grew older and approached the final years of mandatory education my isolated love for electronic music was breached, driven mainly by exposure to rock, metal, pop-punk music which I came to love massively. My introduction into this expansive genre was subtle, happening at a slothful pace. At 16, in the common room of the final year of school it was Limp Bizkit, KoRn, Feeder and Linkin Park if I remember correctly. My immediate metal tastes also attracted much criticism but less so than the 'computer sounds' of electronica. When the formalities of school were over I went to college with the majority of my friends staying for 6th-Form, my grades were nothing spectacular and my parents didn't see the value-add in paying the exorbitant fees of a private school 6th form, fair play to them. College was one of the best things that ever happened to me even if the following text paints a different picture to you the reader, it freed me from the bondage of uniforms and archaic formalities that private school had begrudgingly installed on me for the last 11 years. I was free.

I went to the City of Sunderland College, the old venerable Bede building on Hilton road in Sunderland. Only two fellow private school boys joined me at the college, both good friends of mine - a guy called Adam and a long term friend I'd since by single digit age days called Peter. Adam was to heavily influence the development of my music tastes. As an outgoing individual I quickly bonded with a big group of people from a variety of backgrounds and from a variety of locations amongst the suburbs of the city. As a collective rock music and its related genres were the predominant choices of musical taste. We spent almost every waking hour together as a group; in classes, outside of college and in the chasms that were lunch breaks and free periods. During these three years (I failed my first year miserably and had to re-sit) my love for 'Heavy Metal' music as the older generations call it grew massively.

 I went further and further down the rabbit hole that is Metal and branched out into all sorts of weird and wonderful sub-genre from Scandinavian Black Metal to American Thrash Metal of the 80's. I became musically overwhelmed by the breadth of the different styles of metal and it began consuming me. I was reading books on Black Metal that detailed the origins and culture of the genre, reading about satanic rituals and suicides of influential musicians that inspired countless souls. I was spending every penny of my disposable income on music paraphernalia such as posters, CD's and T-shirts, at one point my collection of Music T's outnumbered by 'normal' clothes 4 to 1. I didn't cut my hair for a period of four years convincing myself that long hair could be cool and when tamed sophisticated at the same time. I began wearing long leather jackets (like Keanu Reeves donned in The Matrix) and bought boots draped in material flame and spikes that came to my knees. I even began painting my nails and started the ritual of piercing parts of my body all in the image of the men and women that fronted my favourite bands.

Cradle of Filth (pictured below) became my favourite band, their posters filled the walls of my bedroom, their t-shirts filled my wardrobe, their albums filled my CD racks and their lyrics filled my head. Why did I like Cradle of Filth so much? As I mentioned earlier I attempted with earnest to fit myself under the parasol of Black Metal but to be honest, bar a few bands the genre was too extreme for me, it's not music I could listen to for more than ten minute bursts, all except Cradle. To sooth all Black Metal fans let me say loud and clear that Cradle of Filth are not Black Metal, well they used to be many many moons ago but they must have realized very early on that if they desired commercial success they needed a USP, their melodic undertones and poetic lyrics were what got me hooked.

British melodic Goth Metal giants Cradle of Filth, with front man Dani Filth (centre)

It seemed that I had been shackled at private school and as soon as I broke free I transmogrified myself into another being. From the boy who fell short of the 'B' Group at school into a neo-Gothic, 190cm tall, long haired, multi-pierced, mono-tone entity that personified the music I so adored. Well that was the idea; however with hindsight I looked embarrassingly and outrageously ridiculous. I guess at the time, it was something I just had to do and if I had the chance to go back in time and re-write my past, other than studying harder at college and smoking a little less I wouldn't change a thing.

Norway's 'Immortal' - one of the few Black Metal bands whose music still make into my auditory cortex.

After my tenure at college I went off to university, well I didn't actually go off anywhere; I stayed at home and attended my local university. I was planning to flap my wings and study away from the nest but my parents, the evil beings they were tempted me with a car if I stayed and I obliged them without complaint. Between the end of the second year of college and me starting university my membership in 'the group' had well and truly been revoked (for reasons I shall not delve into here). Other than a few close friends like Martin and the occasional stint with Adam my immediate exposure to metal music and all its metallic glory greatly diminished and I found myself again reconnoitering other genres. This is where those computer noises begin to oscillate again.

During these theory-heavy years I would use all my spare time working, this included both Saturday and Sunday as well as any free days or afternoons I had during my week. At the time I was working for my father, he had a wholesale alcoholic beverage delivery company. I would work between the office and out on the road (always preferred the road) delivering the products to customers. The latter would allow me to explore the north east of England on a daily basis, it was just me, the road, the Ford Transit van and BBC Radio 1.

It was a Friday and if I had to guess a time roughly I'd say around 4pm. It was Summer time in the UK, late July 2005. I was driving back to Sunderland from Durham, along a quiet country lane, these were the days when Edith Bowman and Colin Murray where hosting the afternoon show together on Radio 1, they were such a good combination, a duo of absolute satire. As Radio 1 DJ's they were pretty on the ball when it came to new music too, something which the station prides itself on still today. I was listening to them on the drive back when they dropped a song that pretty much single handedly got me to Drum & Bass music. That track was Slam by Pendulum.

Pendulum's 'Hold Your Colour' LP released on Breakbeat Kaos in 2005. A little bit of audio heaven.

The rest as they say is history, I still listen to Tracy Chapman and Bruce Springsteen. I sometimes indulge in a little Spandau Ballet or Human League to quash my 80's auditory tendencies. I'm still a big fan of multiple genres of metal and some of your generic dance music too but my love these days and for the past 8 years has been Drum & Bass music. It's difficult to ever imagine it changing.

As an epilogue I leave you with the below link. It's for one of my favourite Drum & Bass songs of all time, this track sums it all up nicely for you in six minutes and twenty one seconds.

London Elektricity - Just One Second (Apex Remix)

Enjoy.

Khmer...My Love - Phnom Penh, Cambodia

In the attempt to see all of Asia on the salary of a Level 6 employee my travels so far have taken me throughout mainland Malaysia, Indonesia, Australia, Thailand, Singapore and their islands.

In October of 2012 I replicated the travels of the French colonialists and decided to visit the self-proclaimed Kingdom of Wonder, Cambodia. Since October 2012 I have been back to this amazing almost landlocked country seven times and yes that wasn’t a typo, I’ve averaged one trip every month since. Why eight times I hear you say? Well those of you who know me well know the main driver for my reoccurring transit to and from this wonderful country. Absolutely hedonistic but not in the way many would assume. That however is not my only reason, the overwhelming sense of claustrophobia I feel in Singapore continues to grow, and over the past five months with the absence of The Chen this has spiraled almost out of control. Being only a short flight for me Cambodia seems to be fertile ground for me to quash this claustrophobia and if planned correctly can be cheaper than a weekend out in Singapore.

In February of this year I intelligently utilized the double public holiday that Chinese New Year brings and worked from my hotel for a few days to acquire a nine day stay in the capital of Cambodia, Phnom Penh. Previous trips to the city had always been with my good friend Claudio but this time I flew solo and made the most of the time on my own.

Before I moved to Asia my knowledge of Cambodia was limited to the fact it plays piggy in the middle to Thailand and Vietnam. I also knew from a book I’d read back in college that the country’s most prominent attribute was a man hell bent on genocide and revolution known as Pol Pot. Since moving to Singapore my interest in the cultural continent of Asia has soared. I’ve since read a book on the history of Thailand which touched upon the emergence of Cambodia from the Great Plains of South East Asia and the history of the once powerful Angkor Empire. Thanks to Ben Kiernan I’m currently reading further into the Pol Pot regime and the reign of terror inflicted by the Khmer Rouge. It’s as equally horrifying as it is interesting. This part of history has really caught my attention.

 Khmer My Love

The Skulls of Choeung Ek

Choeung Ek or The Killing Fields of Phnom Penh is one several sites throughout Cambodia used for the  persecution of the people of Cambodia by The Khmer Rouge. The Khmer Rouge is a name given to the followers of the Communist Party of Kampuchea (CPK) in Cambodia. It was formed in 1968 and was the ruling party of the country from 1975-1979. During the party's rule of Cambodia the state it controlled was known as Democratic Kampuchea or DK. Pol Pot was it's leader.

Pol Pot was a Cambodian Communist Revolutionary was born on the 19th May 1925 in Kampon Thon Province. Real name Saloth Sar he was the General Secretary of the CPK from 1963 until the party's dissolving in 1981. He was prime minister of Democratic Kampuchea during the party's rain. Between himself and the fellow leaders of the CPK they were held accountable for the death of 1.7M Cambodians during this period. Summary execution, starvation and disease were his weapons.

I went to visit Choeung Ek, the concentration camp of Phnom Penh while I was there. The small area is about 15km outside of Phnom Penh, forty five minutes by Tuk Tuk from the centre of Phnom Penh.

I opted to use the audio tour which is narrated by a Phnom Penh local who survived the persecution. Take off the headphones and you’re assaulted by a gripping silence as all the other tourists are listening to same horror as you. It only adds to the grim reality of this place.

No caption needed.

Wrist bands of support from thousands of visitors

Monarchs and things made of glitter..

On the way back to Phnom Penh from the Killing Fields it started to get dark, as the Tuk Tuk driver entered the hustle and bustle of the centre I was blessed with a sunset photo opportunity of the Royal Palace of Cambodia.

Khmer Sunset

The royal palace currently has a larger than life portrait of abdicated King Norodom Sihanouk who died in October 2012. I was actually in Phnom Penh on the weekend of this funeral and was lucky to watch the way the Cambodians celebrated his life. Huge firework displays and day long funeral processions through the centre. It was a magical to watch the respect and love the people had for their monarch in true Khmer style. 

The Royal Palace faces the Tonle Sap River and at night stands illuminated in golden lighting. Walking past the palace at night and watching the youth gather on the land in front of it is a very special experience. It would warm the blood if it wasn't already 38 degrees outside. 

The Palace by Day

Walking around the circumference of the palace during daylight hours is just as special, the buildings of red and gold stand stunning against the backdrop of crystal blue clear skies.  The palaces don't seem as grand as those of Thailand but are more floral and more classically designed.

Khmer Cuisine

Cambodian cuisine isn't as well known as Thai, Chinese or even Vietnamese but the Khmer people do have their own tasty delights. Walking around the streets of the capital you'll find in abundance two trademark dishes; Lok Lak usually served with Beef and Amok which is usually served with Fish. Lok Lak is generally shredded beef cooked in a light gravy and accompanied by rice. Most restaurants in Phnom Penh have an English style Lok Lak served with French fries and a fried egg. You'll struggle to find great Beef in Phnom Penh so be prepared to chew, quality and taste will vary restaurant to restaurant but it's a pretty standard dish.

Fish Amok is fish coated in a thick coconut milk with kroeung, either steamed or baked in a cup made from banana leaves. It is often eaten during the Water Festival, which celebrates the reversal of the Tonle Sap River. An important part of the dish is the addition of the leaves of the noni tree and the use of fingerroot^.

There are other dishes but to be honest my experience with Khmer Cuisine is poor at best, I've yet to try enough Lok Lak here to differentiate good from bad. I haven't found one that explodes yet but I haven't given up trying. Another famous dish here in Cambodia funnily enough is Pizza, there are tons of Pizza restaurants here but it's not normal pizza, it's pizza with a twist. 

Pink Elephant is one of many restaurants in Phnom Penh offering this special 'herbal' recipe.

The pizza I am referring to is of course the famed Happy Pizza. It's basically a regular pizza cooked to your requirements with your toppings of choice laced with Marijuana. Reportedly local happy cuisine is not limited to Pizza with the ingredient being seemingly versatile with most dishes. In a region of the world renowned for it's tough stance on drugs it was mind blowing to see this with my own eyes. How does it work? What is the history behind this illicit trade? 

Cambodia is a developing country and the streets of Phnom Penh proclaim the fact from the heavens but at night the place changes, it becomes Sin City of Asia. I once said that Bangkok was the Amsterdam of Asia and in many ways it remains the King but Phnom Penh has it's own nightlife that slumbers deeply during the hours of the day.  At night Phnom Penh becomes illuminated by the red neon of the many Angkor Beer themed sign posts. The streets fill with the transformation of pushy self employed Tuk Tuk drivers into hardened gang members offering foreigners drugs and sex. The streets of the city are suddenly laden with brothels and lady bars, invisible by day and reminiscent of a young growing Bangkok of yesteryear. The city transforms itself into an Asian noir.

Sisowath Quay by Night

Reminding the reader that Cambodia is a third world country and that the streets of Phnom Penh are rife with poverty. Walking the path parallel to the Tonle Sap river you are bombarded by suffering. Emancipated mothers holding their naked children, heavily disfigured and disabled locals as well as people beaten by the hands of time all beg for your monetary mercy. Children touting sunglasses, photocopied books and handmade bracelets will flock to you like flies on shit. If you are easily upset by this I suggest you take the little solace side streets can offer and that of the the interior of restaurants. Failing that you can also try to ignore them but if you have a heart or an ounce of humanity it’s difficult I assure you. You can also pay your way out of it but be careful, paying off one child by buying a book or bracelet can actually result in stampede of requests and a harder sell from the kids. 

 It's not all death, marijuana, annoying Tuk Tuk drivers and prostitutes..

Although Phnom Penh has a blood stained past and a red light present don't be put off visiting this splendorous place. The city is filled with friendly locals just who are happy to provide five star service in exchange for a small amount of your hard earned dollars. It plays host to a collective of budding restauranteurs and entrepreneurs trying to make a name for themselves in this growing city. It offers a vast array of delicately beautiful French architecture and boutique hotels at generous prices. It has extravagant amounts of history and culture available ranging from the Kingdom of Angkor and the Khmer Empire to the French colonization and the travesties of the Khmer Rouge. It offers this variety with a smile. This city has personality.

A monk wonders the streets of Phnom Penh in the early hours.

I love this city and will keep using it as my sanctuary away from the corporate life of Singapore, well until i find somewhere more charming. Tony Bennett left his heart in San Fransisco but me, I left mine in Phnom Penh. 

The Phonecall

It was the morning of Wednesday 17^th April 2013; 609 days since my Asian endeavour began. It was some time just before 9.30am and I was standing in the queue at Starbucks on George Street waiting for my black tall filter coffee. I had my mobile phone in hand having just got out of ‘get to work mode’ with Rammstein blasting through my headphones for the entire journey from home to work. The famous team of Baristas were literally applying the plastic cap to my coffee when my phone started to vibrate and then less than a second later the modern day default Nokia turn began to blare. I looked down at my phone and saw the inbound number began with +31. Having not been back long from France, convinced jet lag had a role to place in my acute knowledge loss of country dialling codes I answered it thinking it was The Chen calling me. 

When I swiped my thumb across the screen to release the voice at the other end I was baffled to who it actually was, a rough sounding voice greeted me with a familiar accent. After a few seconds of caffeine induced cognition I realized the accent I was hearing was the unmistakable tones of a Dutchman speaking English and soon remember +31 was the country code for the Netherlands. Armed now with caffeine and this new information I asked in my usual soft manner who the person at the other end of the world was. The voice slowed and mumbled in a drunken gulp of words and then like a novel plot that suddenly unravels itself at the end I realized it was Casper, Shirley’s husband, I lost all of my words.

He immediately apologized to me for being drunk which I waved off immediately telling him not to apologize. I asked him about the kids and how he and them were doing, he replied with "As good as can" stating his main concern being the fact that the kids don't talk about Shirley at all. Still standing in Starbucks with my Americano in hand Casper said he actually called to thank me, to thank me for attending Shirley's funeral and to thank me from the bottom of his heart for writing my blog about Shirley. Speechless for the second time in one morning I really struggled to search my vocabulary for any adequate words I could muster, nothing materialized. 

By now I was sitting in Starbucks, cup of caffeine perched on my lap with one hand holding my phone and the other covering my face. I felt sorry for Casper, so sorry for him and his wonderful Children. I have Shirley's photo on my desk just behind my laptop, and sometimes when work gets really shitty I look at her photo and think to myself what would she do in this situation?. Cautious about the hour in the Netherlands with Casper's work and family commitments not relenting I promised him I would visit him and the kids next time I'm in Holland and pay my respects at Shirleys grave. I told him to take care of himself and his children and wished him all the best.

Hanging up the phone, picking up my coffee and walking out of the air conditioned Starbucks into the relentless humidity of Singapore I missed Shirley terribly. It also dawned on me with the help of a cheeky Irish friend of mine via a facebook post, that in my visits to Holland since my departure I have not been catching up with my friends as much as I should, I'm ashamed of myself when I think of this, these people were the most important people in my life when I lived in Holland, wonderful human beings they all were. I promise myself and I'll promise Shirley time will be made for my friends when I'm next back (if they will still have me).

Always in my thoughts Shirley, Casper & Family x