Blog 5: Good Times in the Old World

Well, friends, so much has happened since last we spoke. I'll try to give you a quick run-down of the best parts of the adventure so far.

First European Show: It's gonna be hard for the next show to not be a savage letdown. I played at the four-university Student Week festival celebrations, in Freedom Square. Now, Freedom Square is not your average beer-swilling venue. Not only is it massive, having hosted events as big as a Sting concert, but it played host to one of those turn-of-history moments that up until now, had only been seen on paper for this Colliers kid. Freedom Square was the venue for the "Singing Revolution," one of the four or five major rebellions that helped bring down the Soviet Empire. More than one hundred thousand brave Estonians gathered here to sing Estonian folk songs--reasserting their Estonian national identity, and signalling the end of their fear of Soviet repression. Naturally, I had to work in a version of "Winds of Change" by the Scorpions. I introduced it with "Now I know a lot of people think Rock and Roll doesn't do anything important, but when I was a little kid, my Mom got me to watch the Berlin Wall being torn down on TV. She said 'I know you don't understand this now, but it's important--I never thought that I would see this in my lifetime.' Anyway, she was right I didn't understand it--until I heard this song." Playing that song, with a crowd full of children of the revolution singing along with the chorus, was surreal--a reminder of the difference between experiencing life from a book or a screen, and actually experiencing the world first-hand. I'm glad I came.

Prison Party: Man, this was an experience that was beyond my imagination. We went to a massive outdoor music party, inside the gates of a former Soviet prison. I don't mean some refurbished, tourist-friendly rehabilitated parkland; I'm talking Shawshank. It looked like fifteen years ago, the cheques stopped coming, so they just walked out. The barbed wire was still up, and you couldn't help but look up at the towers, expecting a sniper the entire time. There was a famous Estonian rock group (whatever that means) called Singer Vinger, playing on the improvised stage in the Yard, and DJ's spinning on the back, where there was a beach overlooking a full moon cresting the Baltic. It was a surreal moment, watching that moon and that sea, drinking a beer with a girl from Poland, looking out through the fraying barbed wire of a dead empire. I did a lot of thinking about the people who would have looked out through that fence over the years, both guards and prisoners. For which crime were they arrested? Some simple act of protest, the likes of which I have committed without thinking a thousand times in my rabble-rousing existence? Or were they straight up murderers, rapist and thieves, the same that you sadly find everywhere in every time? And the guards, what were there thoughts? Did they feel a burning shame of defending a discredited order, collaborating with the occupiers of the their ancestral home? Did they hate the prisoners, see them all as beasts to be controlled and abused, or did they empathise with those captured, prisoners of a foreign regime? Maybe they were just there for a cheque, waiting for Thursday so they could get a couple of bottles of Saku beer and maybe take the wife out to dinner. Either way, it was an awesome party.

Depeche Mode Bar: Yes, it really exists. I had passed by it a few times, and always wondered, "Is it really what it seems to be?" Yes, yes it is. As I walked the ancient cobblestone of the path there with a French lady friend, I saw the two pretty Estonian ladies who were awaiting my habitual late arrival, outside by the gate, reading a paper posted to the wall. The paper turned out to be a printout of "The Top Ten Weirdest Bars in the World," as complied by tripadvisor.com, and circled in red grease pencil, at number 6, was indeed the DM Bar, Tallinn, Estonia. Quite the introduction; we walked down the four stone steps and pushed open the heavy wooden door. Inside, I saw four flatscreens playing the "Dream On" video, and pictures and old concert tickets on every wall. Indeed, this was a bar devoted to all things Depeche Mode. Crazy. Anyway, I bought a round, 3 ciders and a Saku, and we went for the grand tour. The Depche Mode video loop continued in the front room, and we walked past an arcade poker machine (which was weird in its own way: a) it took bills, and b) you couldn't win any money from it) and into the almost pitch-black downstairs. There, along with an unplugged pinball machine, was a DJ, you guessed it, spinning a thumping set of ALL DEPECHE MODE!! Where do you even find a DJ like that? I know one thing, I can't wait to search the world for the five bars that are even weirder.