| Maximo Park Diary Entries |
| These are diary entries by Maximo Park members from the Official Maximo Park Website. |
Portugal and Japan |
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| 10 Aug, 2005 |
We are leaving Portugal in our new sleeper coach. I write from a bunk the size of a large coffin, with the intricate guitarisms of John Fahey ringing in my ears via the magic of headphones. Devendra Banhart has just given me a hug goodbye and it will be my pleasure to watch him and his merry band of minstels again tomorrow night at the Benecassim festival in Spain. Tonight, at the Sudoueste festival, there was an abundance of beautiful Mediterranean people, including a boy in a yellow woollen hat and a girl in a pink woollen hat who taught me some Portuguese.
Today, a group of us ascended the hills of Lisbon's old town, thanking our lucky stars for the sweltering heat. Scotty, our roadie, took pictures of all the monuments depicting various stained generals and proud, unknown steeds. At a distance, some buildings looked like patterned quilts until we got closer and saw the smooth, multicoloured tiles that adorn certain structures. Other places were stacked up like giant wedges of pink, sugary cake pretending to be houses. I forked off the main road and saw people popping their heads out of the top half of their wooden doors. Televisions and radios blared every now and then from behind the slats of tiny, square windows. Faded boa-like decorations hung from the occasional lamp post with colours resembling those found in old photographs.
Beneath our feet, especially in the centre of the town, there were small square cobbles that had a strange, slippery quality about them. In this area, we found the familiar sound of clashing car horns that you find in most traffic-gorged European cities. As I searched for Polaroid film I saw a man wearing his white t-shirt just above his beach-ball belly, the fabric resting like a gathered table cloth on a creaking shelf. Nearby, a woman without any legs was slumped against a gleaming shop window, wearing a blue and white Beck top. A glossy cardboard cup was lodged between the two spindly, aluminium replacement limbs that were crudely strapped to her body. The slow motion tragedy of these characters was a sharp contrast to our last destination, Tokyo.
Our latest journey to Japan exhibited two very different facets to the country. On one side, there is the fast-paced, efficient burn-up of the modern city, and on the other side lies a more reflective, traditional way of life, which we caught sight of on our way to the mountains of the Fuji Rock festival. It may not surprise you to know that we have never played amongst clouds before. I got quite a funny feeling down my spine as I was singing and looking at the terrain all around me. Dunc drew a Japanese flag on the back of his hand and the big screen camera focused in on it to rapturous effect as he strummed his Rickenbacker. The rain that bathed the site moments before we went on did threaten to dampen spirits, but, ultimately, I felt it was one of the best gigs we have ever done to the most amount of people. While we were in Tokyo we were the first foreign band to do a live concert for NHK, a national radio station. It reminded me a lot of the BBC in its decor and professional yet relaxed manner. We played before 200 guests and competition winners in a big, soundproofed room on a slippery pine stage. The people are so polite that the 'barrier' keeping the audience back was just a rope cordon like the ones you would find yourself queuing around in a bank. Before we left, we played at HMV surrounded by tons of massive posters advertising Missing Songs, a compilation of b sides that haven't been out in Japan. My mother would have been proud, but I had a mammoth slog around the Shibuya district for Polaroid film, only to find some just as the shop shut.
Perhaps the strangest event of our trip was our semi-competitive karaoke face-off with the Kaiser Chiefs and The Bravery. A lot of sake was consumed, some spectacles were worn, some leaps were performed and a lot of American accents were mangled. The less said, the better. Only, I should add that Archis made a meal of Neil Young's Cinammon Girl to stunning effect, whilst wearing his now ever present shades.
On that bombshell!
See you,
Paul And The Park
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