While this weekend the Peace and Love and Reggae community was getting high at Fühlinger See or stealing from each other to the sounds of gentle music, I preferred to head out to a small punk concert. Molotow Soda played at Sonic Ballroom. Oh dear, I feared the worst. The combination of Molotow Soda and Sonic Ballroom would probably lead to the same result as my foot in a size 36 shoe. It’s going to be uncomfortably tight. Well, let’s first go take a look. On the way to Sonic Ballroom, I tried to find a non-alcoholic beer, which turned out to be impossible in Ehrenfeld and made me a Vita Malz drinker. Luckily, to my surprise, Sonic Ballroom sells Bitburger Alkoholfrei, so I didn’t have to drink the sweet sludge all night and could still maintain my current alcohol-free lifestyle. After the typical pre-musical entertainment program at such concerts (drinking beer and chatting), the first band started. Three young guys calling themselves Destyl from Prague put on a really great show. They delivered some pretty successful hardcore punk to the audience. The drums were played with extreme power, the singer/bassist was roaring nicely and made funny faces the whole time. It was really fun to listen to and watch them. The audience area was pleasantly empty because most people were still milling around outside, and a few used the free space for some shoving. The band came across as very likable, and I would have liked to buy a record from them, but they didn’t have anything like that with them. In the meantime, Sonic Ballroom was sold out, and eventually, the Mollis started. I listened to the first five songs from outside and then decided to enter the cuddle sauna. The entrance area is always the worst, where I find myself standing around again and again. This squeezing crowd when someone wants to go from the bar area outside or from outside to the bar is really annoying. I usually take it easy, but at some point, I noticed that the same five faces were wandering around, and I regretted leaving my hammer and nails at home, with which I could have nailed them somewhere else. In any case, Molotow Soda put on a solid performance. During the encores, the instruments were swapped, and there was canal terror for the ears. A technical defect on stage and a ringing phone in my pocket made me step outside again, where I stayed and didn’t even notice if a canister of Molotow Soda was passed into the audience or not. However, there were still a few canal terror songs. When everything was over, we headed towards a pub called Boots, which according to some dog owners is the only real punk pub in Cologne. With such talk, I actually didn’t feel like going anymore, as pub-goers who consider their local pub the only true whatever pub often shine through narrow-mindedness and a low horizon. But that seemed to promise a tension-filled odyssey, so: let’s go. If necessary, my brother lives around the corner, and we can hang out there for a while. On the way there, we passed the Live Music Hall. My goodness! Here a tearful relationship drama, there a brewing fight, over there a recently ended fight, bouncers running around, police cars with flashing lights arriving, a car fleeing the scene after scraping its entire side against a flower pot while trying to park... Apparently, all the violent assholes and dimwits of Cologne meet at the Live Music Hall on Fridays. Although there are always enough of them at punk concerts too, it’s just that the aggressive punk concert-goers look different from the LMH idiots. So remember: assholes are everywhere! Upon arriving at Boots, we quickly finished the kiosk beer, and then the group split up. One half went into the pub with the pack of dogs inside to indulge in the only true punk feeling, while the other went to my brother’s apartment to bury the only true punk.
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