Oh the parties we had?

Sunday night was my friend Justin’s birthday, and celebrations were suitably fucking awesome. Festivities were taking place at D-22, where he does sound and plays drums, so Simon and Caitlin and I headed out on yet another long (but cheap) subway journey to “Beijing’s CBGBs”… or whatever.

Beforehand, we stopped over at last summer’s favourite hole-in-the-wall Xinjiang place, lovingly referred to as Ali Baba’s (啊里巴巴). The meal was especially remarkable because for reasons, typically incomprehensible, my friend Steve was in town and used to go to the restaurant at least three times a week. It was also nice that two naan breads, three plates of noodles, a bowl of noodle soup, and four beers cost 51 RMB, or $7ish dollars.

Anyway, in honour of turning 27(?) Justin played two sets with an absolutely crazy folk singer named Xiao He, who has a penchant for beautiful shrieking, deep, Mongolian throat singing-style delivery, and wearing red pants.

I end up saying this a lot in Beijing, but it truly was one of the most astounding musical things I’ve seen. The two of them were improvising, but they were so attuned to each other, that when one of them screwed up and didn’t stop playing, the other messed up and did the exact same thing.

Having performed with Justin a number of times, it was interesting to have an understanding of how he would play. I was impressed by how much he held himself back. At times, he’d play a rhythm and Xiao He would match it exactly with his voice. Xiao He  played only acoustic guitar, plugged in, but he used numerous looping pedals (for his instrument and vocals), one of which I have. The combination of knowing how Justin improvises and knowing how Xiao He’s pedals work meant that I was involved in the performance in a way that I’ve never experienced as a member of the audience before. It was quite impressive.

Monday night were the Bar and Club Awards held by my guidebook company’s sister magazine, The Beijinger. The ceremony itself was on the tacky side (a girl dancing with a snake? come on…) and the free Stella Artois and Vodka were dangerous.  Miraculously, I’m fine today. Here’s a choice summary of events:

• A shirtless Mexican man stands on a table at the bar we relocated to, pulls down his pants, then his boxers, and stands motionless, naked, for 10 slow, slow seconds. (Thankfully we had the rear view)
• After stealing food from his friends, a colleague tells me that we’re like Inuit: “we don’t waste any part of the quesadilla.”
• The Arcade Fire came on the stereo, in a Mexican-food-serving sports bar in Beijing. Where am I?
• It rained it rained it rained
• No one came to work on time the next day
• The first order of business was lunch.