Caspian Hat Dance, my new heroes
The CD release by Caspian Hat Dance last night was awesome, and so are they.
How else could you describe a seven-piece gypsy dance band in demented clown makeup and vaguely Victorian costume howling out dazzlingly fast Hungarian folk tunes while dangling in climbing harnesses from the ceiling?
The venue was the Nomadome, and what the photo on that site1 doesn’t make entirely clear at first sight is that the geodesic dome is actually inside an enormous warehouse. The place would be completely unfindable, except that neither the dome nor the warehouse is soundproofed.
The dome itself isn’t very big, and they had to limit numbers — by the time Olga turned up they were at capacity so we had to wait at the gate until someone left and she could come in.
At around that point the last of the supporting bands in the dome finished (I didn’t see all of them, but everything I caught was also energetic and danceable and good) and the space was closed to prepare for Caspian Hat Dance. This would have seemed a bit weird, and the wait a bit long, if there weren’t another band (accordion and bagpipes, more Balkan folk, with lots of odd time signatures and dances Olga knows) and a fire show going on to keep us occupied. Then the dome reopened and we filed back in…
There were ushers stationed at the doors, because the first reaction on stepping inside was to stand still, staring upwards and gaping. The whole band was hanging from the ceiling, frozen in puppet-like poses, in (as I mentioned) vaguely Victorian-era costume (here a cloak, there a shirt encrusted with lace, although Die Wilde Silvi swapped her hooped gown and petticoats for tights for the rope work) and the sort of facepaint a clown wears in those dreams where you’re afraid of clowns.
We gaped.
They swayed gently.
Then the drummer began a tic-toc windup toy-soldier rhythm (he had a purpose-built kit strapped to his chest, I’m pretty sure the cymbal arm was held together with duct tape), and just when I expected the rest to tic-toc one by one in like a set of puppets… they erupted into something Eastern European and insanely fast, and from that moment I couldn’t keep my feet still or the grin off my face.
The energy of the group is amazing. After that spectacular intro they lowered themselves to the ground (carefully, with instruments slung all which ways) and reformed on the stage, and proceeded to deliver non-stop fast dance impulse for two hours straight. We were getting a bit droopy (they didn’t start until 12:30), when they announced their last song. This was followed of course by thunderous applause and an enforced encore, then by a short interlude while they ate birthday cake, then the sort of slow quiet duet that usually means “guys we really want to go home to bed”… then: “So shall we call the boys back for something loud?”
At that point we left, they’d worn us out complete. I imagine they could have gone on another hour or two…
I bought the cd, you should too. (You might try the ‘cultural center and teahouse’ Mezrab on Tweede Lauriersdwarsstraat, the proprietor looks suspiciously like San Juan the Spaniard.)2 As well as lots of musical goodness you’ll get the magnificent liner notes; you’ll find pretty much the same bios as on the site –including the brief entry for Frida Kahlo– but also a short story about Van Gogh working on “his most famous painting, painted underneath that bridge on the Prinsengracht”, lyrics (in slightly dubious translations), a super-short manifesto-cum-history (“squatting houses is important and squatting houses leads to beautiful things”), and some things you probably didn’t know about Hungarian music.
We played the music we loved at parties and squats and on the street, and the songs which were good we played louder and the songs which were bad we played faster. And usually we played until things broke. And people would ask “What are those things with the buttons and strings?” and we said “Instruments”, and they were amazed that they could never catch us recharging the batteries. Notes: