Unscene Berlin

Flow Cafe, Schoeneweide Last week, while cycling through the eastern borough of Schoeneweide for the first time in years, I saw streetart, scrap art, industrial-residential hybrids, new pedestrian bridges, squares and all kinds of sophisticated little urban touches that I have never seen in the utilitarian streets near my place, before.  As they race relentlessly away from the Mitte, gentrification's stylistic enhancements seem to have shot straight past poor, fugly (yet still not managing to avoid those rent hikes) Lichtenberg, and carried on to the admittedly more scenic environs around Schoeneweide, where they have settled in like a hand in a glove. The area is a nice mix of natural open spaces, derelict buildings and cute little residential streets that seem to have survived by sheer virtue of the fact that nobody remembered they even existed, until recently.  Stuff to do in this area include the Flow Kaffeehaus , the Funkhaus , and nearby  Sisyp...

Even though I'm working right into the wee hours of Tag Der Arbeit (ironically), when I emerge into daylight, wreathed in smoke from the dance floor, I will do what every other Vitamin D deficient member of Berlin's nightlife community does: go to a free openair. I'm not sure why, or how, but every year since I first got here, the Berlin club community has had a sort of "opendoor openair" day. The entrance at [most] clubs is free... yes, even at the coolest and most expensive clubs. I think it's because they're all Social Marxist Degenerates (at least, according to the AfD  they are) with Hippy Utopian Leanings (at least, according to me they are). I Don't Know Why I Feel The Need To Use Caps For Those Sorts Of Phrases but it's really hard on the fingers so I'm just going to stop it, now. You will want to take advantage of this annual spirit of generosity by checking out as many never-seen-before Berlin venues as your dilated pupils ca...

I could feel that something wasn't right.  Even though it was a crowded dancefloor, someone was bumping into me a little too regularly in time with the music, as if they were mirroring my moves. But I still wasn't prepared for what I saw when I turned my head: a little troll of a man, grinding his pelvis as close to my ass as he could get without committing an assault. But actually, he had already crossed that line a few times; it was just that the intentional nature of that assault had been camouflaged by the general mayhem happening around us. The smarmy expression on his face made it pretty clear that this wasn't just an accident, though, as did the fact that he didn't back away once he was caught - not until I 'assisted' him with a sharp shove and the suggestion to stay well the fuck away. He vanished, and I thought the message had been received.  But then, a few minutes later and just a few feet away, I saw him rubbing up against yet another woman in...

Credits as per photo, via R19 Facebook page Club R19 is closing. Another phenomenon of the Berlin party scene is vanishing, leaving us grappling to describe exactly what it is.  Or w as .    The problem with R19 is setting yourself apart from whatever is happening there for long enough to describe it.  Stop for a second and someone / something will grab you and drag you along for a ride. Usually, I just show the place to people and let them decide what they t hink it is .  Their reactions vary from wowed to wary but they're u sually closer to the 'wow' end of the spectrum . I’m a big believer in taking party photos ( taken responsibly and with permission ) but I’ve never had time to think about taking a pic in R19 .  T ime or space.  Anything that you do that isn't part of the present seems to leave a palpable vacuum that the people around you pick up on, zero in on a nd try to fi ll ....

When I started writing this blog in 2011, Berlin was a city that was all about finding itself, finding the right way of being 'authentically Berlin'.  Every organizer of every event seemed to be clamouring to prove they had that original, underground Berlin spirit.  Droves of people were coming here to find a piece of the Wall, some 1960's clothes or anything else that wasn't nailed down that they could drag back and display like a trophy of the unrefined, undefined Cold War landscape that was vanishing as they watched.  Every weekend I'd see them clawing oversized 1980s jackets off the rails of Humana and scurrying furtively through the streets schlepping musty chunks of GDR furniture like packrats, afraid to run out of supplies.  Supplies of character.  "See?" I could just hear these droves of new Berliners declaring: "Even the chair I'm sitting on is a one-off that was hand-tooled out of old bed posts by an impoverished citizen of East ...

Golden Gate A few weekends ago, I got a tweet that said Berghain was no longer one of DJ Magazine's top ten Best Clubs in the World . Needless to say, my reaction was a far cry from OMFG, no way. I mean, we are talking about Berghain: a club that deliberately courts an international audience, yet turns zillions of tourists (and locals) away each year just because it doesn't like their 'mood'. Makes it kinda hard for techno pilgrims to decide whether the venue deserves to be in the top ten or not. (Note: I personally enjoy Berghain and even find many of its staff very sweet.  But anyone who spends a lot of time there has to admit that the security's behaviour is frequently indefensible). Local Berghain fans also seem laissez faire about the club's decline in the polls, and why should they be surprised?   Why believe what the readers of an English dance mag say about a place they see all the time? Back when I could afford to buy DJ magazine, it s...