Chapter 317

I woke up a bit before 8, finished packing my bag, kissed the sleeping girlfriend and dog on their foreheads, and drove to the train station, blasting some tunes by Non-Phixion. Their album The Future is Now is an underground classic, some real goddamn hip-hop. I parked underground and was on the Shanghai-bound train a few minutes later, with very little nonsense aside from having to wear a fayssah mursk that I took off as soon as I was in my seat. I ate my breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, raisins and nuts on the train, and we pulled in the metropolis an hour later. I rode a rent-a-bike to the hostel where I had a bed booked, dropped my backpack and got a little drawstring bag with the stuff I needed, before riding another rent-a-bike to the jiu-jitsu gym.

I got there with half an hour to spare and had a thorough stretch while the kids’ class was in session, my legs were sore as hell from the leg workout two days prior. Then class started, we drilled a north-south escape and then the men and women were separated and we did a lot of position sparring. It was great. I don’t do nogi as often so sometimes I was wondering where I should put my hands but I did okay, getting better positions against more inexperienced guys and holding my own against higher belts.

Then I rode back to the hostel, stopping for slices of pizza and a beer, that I ate on the outdoor patio, on this beautiful day. I had a Hawaiian and one with Italian sausage and hot peppers. It was delicious and it helped me fall asleep, I napped for about two hours and then woke up feeling as if my muscles were replaced by concrete and acid. I stretched it out and then rode a few kilometers to Specters bar. I’d never been there before and couldn’t find it but then I heard the loud music coming out of the window and walked in as the hardcore band Rat King was doing its soundcheck. They were one of the three bands about to play, alongside my pals from Spill Your Guts. I said hi to their Russian frontman and my fellow Quebecer handling the bass for the mighty expat hardcore quintet, and took in my surroundings, Specters is a pretty cool looking dive bar, with the walls covered in the usual rock n’ roll and punk paraphernalia. The bartender handed me a free beer, I graciously accepted it but it tasted way off, very metallic, maybe it was expired. I also got warned by more than one person to stay the fuck away from their draft beer. Noted. I’ll bring my own later.

When Rat King were done with their soundcheck we all walked out to have dinner at a Thai restaurant in the neighborhood. I don’t want to be that guy, but living in Thailand for a year has almost ruined Thai food outside of Thailand for me, so my expectations were low. Nonetheless, I didn’t say anything, and was ready to just smile and reply “delicious!” if asked how it is, even if it is bland slop and an insult to the Thai nation and its culinary culture, like it’s unfortunately too common. Well, the meal was great, and spicy enough.

The show wasn’t due to start until 10, so the bassist and I walked to Stone Brewing where we joined their Danish rhythm guitarist and had some expensive but spectacular microbrews, talking about all sort of stuff. Then we went back to the venue, now mobbed by dozens of people eagerly waiting for the show to begin. I ran into some old pals, and the beer helping, I was having a jolly good time shooting the breeze with them, catching up and discussing underground music. There are shows every week in Shanghai, the scene is alive and kicking.

Round Eye took the stage, they’re veterans from the local rock scene but weirdly enough it was my first time seeing them live. They were great, some catchy, dirty punk rock with a degenerate energy to it. Then Rat King got on, and their violent hardcore immediately started a huge life-threatening pit, with limbs flailing in all directions. The jiu-jitsu coach who taught the nogi class is a hardcore fan, and he was there up front, shirt off, spinning and throwing capoeira kicks. I was standing on a speaker by the stage, taking it all in, trying to not slip and fall.

To complete the theme of Shanghai-based bands exclusively composed of expats, Spill Your Guts arrived under cheers from the crowd, ready to play their farewell show. They started with the opening track of their long-overdue LP, a sick slab of hardcore with black metal and At The Gates-esque elements, and it was pure headbanging and moshing for the next half hour. A Russian pal, long-time fan of the band, took the microphone for the short and intense classic Full Blast! which got everyone going nuts. SYG will be missed but hey, that’s the nature of the business, and of expat life. People come and go.

It was now pretty late, I stuck around a bit chatting with people but left soon after to get somewhat of a full night’s sleep.