After causing a ruckus throughout Perth and Bali, Dead City Ruins’ Jake has filed the second part of their Indonesian adventure.
Malang
We kicked off the day chilling in a mountain town, our own house for both bands. Surrounded by mountains topped with rolling mist and mosques swamping the area with haunting prayers. Eventually we headed to the ‘city’ of Malang, found our venue and commenced the pre-show ritual of beers and photos with the locals.Child hit the stage first, a smoke-filled narrow and cramped room. Every second patron sucking back cheap smokes and choking down homemade vodka, Arak – all seemingly entranced by child's blues laden grooves. Roars of approval followed each song.
When it was time for DCR to hit the small, but appropriate stage still more stragglers were streaming into the cramped sweatbox keen to be front and centre. Not a single one of us expected the reaction we received. For a small place, chaos, bedlam and destruction are far too inadequate to describe the scene.
Tommy and Blanch were hoisted high above the crowd mid solo, drinks were thrust both down our throats and onto our heads, people were forming circle pits in a room barely wide enough to swing a cat. When we had finished the set the floor was flooded with beer, we were bloodied, battered and triumphant.
Image © FacebookSunday saw both bands roll into Madiun, East Java. Waiting out side the club were around 30 young kids, between the ages of 10-14. Sucking down ciggies and amping themselves up for the show. A local hardcore band opened the night to a raucous scene of stage-diving and roundhouse kicks. Both Child and DCR tore through heavy sets and the show was over early Sunday night and even if these kids were bad arses they still had to be home by 8pm. We retired to our hotel, got a crate of beers and took her easy.
Talungagung was Monday night’s show. A seemingly off-the-map village. Nothing but huts, small rice farms and a little hall used by a local band to put on shows. There was something about this show, reminiscent of growing up in Wollongong during the ‘90s. Under-age bands finding any hall or social club that will allow a show. Kids came out of the woodwork on their scooters.
A few local bands played, hardcore, thrash and atmospheric-black metal. Child gave them a lesson in thick, heavy blues. DCR entered the sauna-like hall, unfinished concrete floors soon had circle pits thrusting choking dust into the air. The kids here, unlike Australia, are simply stoked to see an energetic band. It's a chance for them to let go and enjoy themselves; not a single person stands cross-armed muttering "I've seen better". By the second song, kids were clambering over each other, screaming choruses they didn't know, just happy to be alive and at a show.
Image © InstagramOne of the locals from across the street took us in for showers after the show; turns out he does graphics for bands like Shadows Fall and Suicide Silence. After a shower we all jumped in the van and begun what was dubbed ‘the hell ride’ – eight hours through the night of halfdirt roads, monsoon rains, too many close calls with oncoming traffic and a half asleep driver who had ingested far too much Arak, the bathtub rice vodka.
We were all grateful to make it to Lamajang, East Java, peel our sweaty corpses from the bus when we finally arrived at the hotel and sleep. After a few Bintangs and some Bakso, street food, we headed for the show. A hall filled with 200 screaming, windmilling hardcore kids. This by far was the hardest show I have ever played.
DCR went on before Child as the support bands were all fast thrash or hardcore and we decided to keep the high energy rolling. As soon as we hit the stage the heat was beyond oppressive. I had heard from the lads in King Parrot that crowds could quickly get out of control and caution was needed. The stage was crowded with kids, circle pits were rife, like whirlpools in a storm. Two songs in my lungs were on fire, between songs I ran outside for air and puked.
Back onstage I noticed a circle pit had moved in, had dragged one kid to a corner and were quickly trying to kick the life out of him. I stopped the show, demanding they cut that shit out, pleading for the kids to help him up and enjoy the show as brothers. A little shaken we carried on the set and tried to keep things as calm as possible. Six songs and we were done.
Almost dead from dehydration, stepping outside offered little shelter from the heat though the air was far easier to breath. Child rode through three songs sending the kids off into the night hopefully in a less vicious mood. Back to the hotel, beers, food, sleep.
On the road to the next show our tour manager took us through some cornfields down some dirt roads to the most beautiful bay I have ever seen, Papuma – heaven on earth. We ate lobster, crabs, prawns, fish and squid, all freshly caught for less than $20 a head.
Soon after we arrived in Jember, East Java, where we found ourselves at an outdoor show, on a festival stage equipped with rigging and lighting. I found out when I climbed the rigging during our set it was all held together with cable ties. Some local rock bands played, the first sign of music other than hardcore while a Muslim, female hardcore band showed just how few boundaries metal has.
This show was a breeze, compared to last night’s sweat box. The stage floor half collapsed midset and the solid state stacks were close to exploding, an earthing problem with the microphone sent shocks through the singer from Child's teeth but the kids loved it. Applause and group photos were abundant after both bands. We ended the night in our hotel swimming pool.
Banyuwangi
We have just been informed we are the first international bands to ever play here. So far the venue has been changed twice. The first venue changed due to too many people turning up over excited, fighting and breaking windows. The second venue, found within an hour, was much the same. Some kids kicked all the windows out, some broken arms and police shut it down.Now we have been informed we will be playing a private, studio show – no social media to try to keep the numbers down. Once again the police were called, too many over-excited kids, the show for tonight, our last for this tour, was cancelled. We spent the night at the local promoter’s house, far away from the pandemonium, chatting about religion, life, heavy metal and once again eating street food.
Although our last show was a bust we have vowed to return. We will spend the next few hours driving back to Bali in a last ditch effort to end this tour on a high. Looking back at the last 12 days there are few words sufficient enough to summarise this rambunctious D.I.Y Indonesian tour. I shall simply say this, if you’re in Australia go see a local band, enjoy the cold beers while you watch them; and if you’re in a band get your arse to Indonesia. It's cheap, it's nasty, the gear is terrible and the clubs are hot as hell, but the kids are starving for good bands and hungry for fresh influences. You will be stopped for photos on every street, and you will play shows to kids who will worship you.
Spread the tunes, spread the love, stay rad.
Jake
Dead City Ruins
