She agreed with me about the creative generalism thing and almost demanded that I used it to my advantage. I looked at my cup of coffee and stirred until the barista's art had vanished completely. It had been a leaf, brown over the beige surface of the cappuccino. Now it was a mere stain in the fluid. I shrugged. Over the past few sessions she had given me a few tips and ideas, all of which sounded wonderful and obtainable, until the real me had to step into the real world again.

Oddly, that real world feels a lot like a Monty Python sketch. I came from the banking and customer service world and wanted something completely and utterly different, thus they all called me for a job as a helpdesk employee. This is the ridiculous reality of trying to evolve as a human being in this economy. There will always be someone who'll say "back to your seat". I most definitely did not want to go back to my seat. That seat was ungrateful, unfair, underappreciated. "But you're good at that," some lady on the phone said. "Yeah, I know, but fuck that," I replied, which is never a good thing to say when someone is offering you a job as a phone agent. The girl promised to call back as soon as she had something else that might interest me, which assured me that I would never hear from her again. I was right about that.

Still, there had to be food on the table and water in my toilet. So after a long period of slowly giving up something suddenly fell into my lap. I did not see it coming, my wife did. Still, in only a matter of days I found myself behind the counter of a book store. Paid. All of a sudden there was a job that did not include sentences like "My computer doesn't work and it's your fault." or "You can not drink soup at your desk but you can drink coffee." or "I'm going to hang myself." Now there were new skills to learn, like how not to drop a box with newspapers off the stairs. I learned that the hard way. I needed only four working days for my first wound. That box has nasty sharp edges. The scratch healed quickly but the security guard still laughs when he sees me.

Back home on one of my first days into the job, I found a message on my LinkedIn account. It was the job coach, congratulating me with the bookstore gig. She added "I guess" which made me giggle. Of course she had expected that by now I would be in charge of my own thriving company, making movies like Studio 100 or whatever. After all, that's what I used her skills for.

But instead, I became some sort of Bernard Black, a cynical, people hating bookstore worker. The only difference is, I quite enjoy this job and I can be a pretty cool version of me in there, which is probably a lot more valuable than money (but don't tell that to my boss). Sure, I understand the woman's doubts. She feels I should stand on my own legs but those legs are so deeply rooted in the creative underground that they simply don't make any money. And that is the harsh reality of being a creative generalist. My mind rages way too fast to focus on one idea for the rest of my career.

I'm slowly finishing my second novel, 'I Do Not Want This'. There are already blueprints for a new project and yesterday I created the main characters for yet another one. In between I'm recording music with my band Synchyse and I've started working on the new EP by Misantronics vs Mint Narcosis. Mind you, those all need artwork and guess who is working on those. I'm back in the game as far as music reviews are concerned and then there is this blog. In fact, there is already another part of this very blog in the making. Confusing? Perhaps. Oh, and I love making pictures of squirrels, birds and everything that could become cover art. Busy busy busy. Meanwhile, there is a household to maintain and I'm bloody glad that there are no children involved in it, just a fat, lazy cat. Sometimes I'm surprised I managed to keep her alive for over a decade. I guess my wife is mostly responsible for that, though.

So, what to do with my life? Spotify is not the answer. Renting a store to sell the games I create is not the answer. Smashwords is not the answer. At least not in this phase of my creative career. The answer is, in my case, finding something certain and steady which gives you the time to let the creative juices flow. Those will flow anyway. Whenever, wherever. Only extremely hard drugs can stop that, like anesthesia or a severe alcohol black-out. This creative generalism, advantage or handicap, will forever push ideas towards my fingers. Many of those ideas will fail, as many have in the past but perhaps, one day, one of those will hit the right spot. ​I've had time to observe this creative generalism and I think I know what it feels like. It's like a gambling addiction. Many of my colleagues in the creative underworld suffer from it. They are unstoppable. They continuously come up with new songs, poems, stories, paintings or drawings, hoping that one of them will make them climb that ladder to the treasure chest of creativity. Most of them will never get there, including me. Why?

Well, let's just face it, that treasure chest is guarded by enormous marketing campaigns, economic strategies and the worship of mediocre art. There, I said it. I blame corporations for my failure, not the lack of talent. Well, not really corporations and I do not actually blame them. This is simply the world we live in, one where things succeed and other things tumble down into obscurity. You simply have to decide which one suits you best. 

Creative generalism is a bit like the cast of the Young Ones living in your head. First you're pissed off like Vivian. Then you take action and fail miserably like Rick, only to give up like Neil or become a hardass like Mike. When you're lucky, someone like Cliff Richard will come along and give you a heap of money. I think we're all waiting for the one-armed bandit of creativity to be generous one day. We live on hope and thrive on finding new ways to climb that ladder. Some of us want to create the soundtrack for the next Hollywood hit, and they would be brilliant at that job. Others, I, want to write that nine-star Netflix series. Still others want to invent the next bestselling game or become an executive in an inspiring eco-friendly firm.

​Serge

Imagine a squirrel, balancing on a carrot, trying to draw a nice picture of a lake in Guatemala while it's being bombarded with origami birds wearing striped pajamas. That is probably the most picturesque description for creative generalism I can give you. If you don't understand that, don't worry. Very few people know what "creative generalism" is. Heck, I didn't know what it was. All I knew that I was running from project to project, from song to short-story and from photography to living room design, all in one day, each day, every day of the four decades I have spent on this planet so far. Sounds like fun, right? Wrong. It can be bloody annoying.

It was an ugly room, very feng-shui with the white walls and the depressed potted plants. On the floor there was a colorful carpet and a cheap made-in-China speaker creaked out something that must have been a new age tune. I remember three chairs and a ridiculous amount of pillows. I sat down on one of the chairs. I sighed. She tilted her head and looked at me. "So, what are you here for?" I had no idea. Anger, frustration, the feeling of being stuck in a rut. Nothing was wrong with me, I guessed, just another disgruntled citizen feeling like a failure. I ended up narrating some stories from my life. My first memory. My first toy. My inability to properly finish a project. And then, out of thin air, she hit the hammer.

"You are a creative generalist."

I frowned, mostly because I don't like people telling me what I am. Then she explained it. She told me about my brain, which constantly comes up with new ideas, schemes and fantasies. All this in sheer contrast with my mouth, which usually prefers to be quiet. She also said that it would probably never stop, unless I got hooked on Xanax or Aderall or whatever mind-numbing is fashionable. For a few moments, I thought about it. I'll admit that. There have been times when I just wanted to take that pill and go absolutely blank for a few hours. I never have. They scare me. I prefer a constantly raging mind over a prescription drug anytime. So I asked what I should do. Her advice was the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

​"Write a book about it."

I paid her, severely regretted that and went home. I told my wife about the session and about the creative generalism. She replied; "well, I could have told you that." Eventually, I forgot all about my first and only session with a therapist, until a few months later. It was early in the afternoon. I was doing to the dishes when suddenly the first half of her sentence popped up. "Write a book." The following months were legendary. Every night, my fingers battered the keyboard. Imperturbable. Tireless.

I wrote my debut novel in a raging tempo. I was focused like never before. This was so me, everything went perfectly. Well, almost perfectly. There was still a lot to be learned about editing and publishing books. Mistakes had been made but the result was something to be proud of. 80.000 words, the longest thing I have ever written. Up until then, I had written short stories, poems and a whole bunch of music reviews, but this was something else. 'Cecilia's World' had become a unique piece of work: a novel about music. Errors or not, I was pretty damn proud of myself. After all, I did something I had never been truly able to: finish a lengthy project.

Then her voice came back. "Write a book about..."

"...psychokinesis," and off I went again. Inspired by Carrie, Matilda, Mr. Robot and the Zeitgeist movies, I started assaulting a brand new keyboard. Six monthly chapters, 120.000 words. An elaborate blueprint with room for improvisation. A massive soundtrack. Videos. Dubbed 'I Do Not Want This', the new book easily surpassed 'Cecilia's World'. That is, until I reached the 70.000 words mark. I froze. Words stopped flowing. I had been writing for months. Two, three, four, five hours per day. In between I contacted musicians and test readers. Suddenly however, all was blank, except for her words. 

​"Will you finally start writing that book about creative generalism?"

I got angry. "Is this really the time to hit me with this thing? I know. I'm a creative generalist. I'm writing a book, composing music and trying to perfect all these technical details surrounding this project. Stop bothering me and let me finish this." I actually found myself talking to myself. That's not a very healthy situation. 

I started taking longer breaks in between writing sessions. I got reacquainted with SimCity and Time Team. I rediscovered the fine art of postponement. Yes, I felt guilty about it but not for long. A new story started blooming and I managed to postpone that one like a professional. I know now, time is on my side. I know that 'I Do Not Want This' will continue .

But her voice. Her sharp, stinging voice. It felt like fingernails on a blackboard. And then it dawned on me. "Hey, I'm a creative generalist. I can write different stories simultaneously," and here we are. I compromised, decided to start a blog about it and publish it here at Merchants Of Air.

Maybe she will read this. If so, I guess she'll be offended by my words once in a while. I will complain and nag about the uselessness of therapists and the money-grabbing business of psychological healthcare. That's what I do: use my writing skills to kick and claw and bite everything I think is unjust. Yet, maybe she will find some interesting anecdotes or even tips for her patients. I'm definitely not the only creative generalist on this blue globe but by now, I am an experienced one. I can hold on to an idea until the right moment. I can finish a project. I can outsource, cooperate and seek advice. My brain is still rumbling like a madman but I managed to install imaginary resistors which slow down and organize the ideas.

And who knows, maybe it can help you, too. Maybe you recognize the stories about brains rumbling like volcanoes. Perhaps you, too, are one of those people who love to write songs, paint landscapes, build ships in a bottle and cook the greatest lasagna in history, all before breakfast. If so, I have bad news for you. You are a creative generalist. You can't help it. There's no way out. You have to create. The good news is: it's not a disease, merely a brain working overtime. Once you realize that, you will never, ever get bored again. 

My first Dunk! Festival was a tremendous experience. I gazed my eyes out at the beautiful environment and the sweet sounds from the main stage continuously made sweet love to my ear drums. I was there for the music. I love post rock and everything slow and atmospheric, plus I had read some good things about this little event in the Flemish Ardennes. It was my post-Incubate period and I was looking for something new, something so satisfying that I'd forget about all other festivals. On day one of that year, Dunk! had won that award.

In my previous previews I advised taking a walk in the beautiful forest and nature reserve surrounding the festival. I'm not going to that this time. I mean, if you're not going for a walk by now, you'll never will. You will miss out on seeing those cute little orange-tip butterflies but that's not my problem. Maybe you hate nature, maybe you despise serenity and maybe you're allergic to fresh air and sunlight. If not, go for that freaking walk, alright?

Now, before I go to the music, let's go over a few other things that might come in handy. The camping ground will still be on that rocky soil so bring a hammer to get your tent pegs in. Also, the end of may is traditionally warm and sunny, so bring sunblock and something to cover your head. Some people might also cover their face but that has little to do with the sun. Next, Roger  the festival man will probably be there. Be sure to give him a hug. 

That's all the tips I'm going to give. By now you should know how to prepare for a three day trip like this one. I'd like to focus more on the music in this preview. I picked out five bands-to-see for each day and I did that in the known Merchants Of Air style: focus on the promising young acts and raise the bar so high that they'll get nervous for playing Dunk! Although there is a little something to say about the headliners as well.

Friday will my personal field day. There are so many bands I'd like to see, pretty much all of them. Yet, since I have set the limit to only five, Efrim Manuel Menuck, Wang Wen and Kokomo didn't make the list. Mostly because I know for sure that they will be interesting, probably even awesome. So, which five did I select? Perhaps some of the most surprising acts on the line-up.

In my review for Wanheda's EP 'The Cenozoic Implosion', I wrote that these guys were "a classic Dunk! band". Little did I know that the good people from Dunk! would actually pick them up and give them a spot on their stage. Now it's up to them to prove me right, I guess. Still, I'm quite sure that they will deliver an excellent performance, a bit hesitant at first perhaps, but just wait until the Dunk! magic starts to unfold.

So before I take a nostalgic trip along impossible romance avenue, I'll admit that my biggest crush ever has been Christina Ricci. Her appearance in movies like The Adams Family and Monster haunted my romantic daydreams. Then again, I think she was every dark soul's wet dream. But, like I mentioned, this list is for the musical crushes, equally unreachable, obviously.

I was fifteen years old when this song was released. Back then we had a video recorder which I used to record my favorite video clips. This song and 'Heaven Is A Place One Earth' were on all of those tapes. I was a young rocker so I loved the guitars on these tunes, but - obviously - I loved to look at Belinda Carlisle even more.

Two years earlier, my preference towards redheads was being born. When Tiffany released a rework of the 1967 Tommy James & The Shondells hit 'I Think We're Alone Now', my pubes started growing, for real!!! Later on I started to despise everything electronic and artificial, so no Samantha Fox, Sabrina or Kylie for me.

Prince knew to pick the women for his backing band. I was thirteen when 'Waterfall' came out so the ladies were above the legal age limit, but that didn't stop me from shaking my behind on this fine piece of music.

What's better than one woman? Yes, four women. Four women who can shred their guitars, bang their drums and sing their lungs out. I guess early nineties is where I truly decided to become a rock fan. I quickly lost interest in the hair metal style but these girls did inspire me to look back in time, to rockers before the eighties.

Ok ok, I admit, Tia Carrere is an actress but look at this, swinging the bass and The Sweet's 'Ballroom Blitz' in every rocker's favorite movie (before School Of Rock), Wayne's World. Sweet.

Who, you might ask? Well, since we're on the topic of both Asian women ànd female bass players, this girl stole my heart somewhere in the nineties or so. She and her band Melt Banana also stole my eardrums and my knowledge that music has boundaries.

When 'Barracuda' was released I was merely three years old, but thanks to the magic of MTV and the record collection of the local library, I eventually got acquainted with rock legends Heart. I was a massive fan of their 'Alone' hit, but 'Barracuda' is simply a stunning rock song.

Around my eighteenth birthday, 'Human Behavior' by Icelandic sirene Björk came out. Gone was my disregard towards electronic music. Of course, I knew her for her work with Sugarcubes. Oh well, yeey, Björk.

During my metal and goth phase the girls in the audience became more important than the ones on stage. Although Siouxsie, Sharon Den Adel and Elizabeth Fraser were talented women in their own right, I chased the goth girls. That changed when Arch Enemy put Angela Gossow behind the microphone. Suddenly death metal was sexy again, without losing the balls. Awesome.

However, in all my metallic history, my upper-crush has been Anneke Van Giersbergen and her breathtaking work with The Gathering. In my opinion, Anneke embodied not only the enchanting vocals of what we called gothic metal, but also the "naturel" and maturity of a seasoned artist. Today, she is married to one of the drummers of my all-time favorite band, Rob Snijders of Kong. That's one fine musical marriage in The Netherlands.

Right, those were some of my teens & twenties crushes. You can comment yours below, or not, I don't mind. 

​Serge

Over the course of Dunk! history Zottegem has seen and heard some mesmerizing post rock bands. Inspired by forerunners like Godspeed, Explosions and Mogwai a wide array of acts have pushed the "typical" sound over the meadow. Yet, in my personal opinion, Dunk is no place for smashers like that, not only because they're too expensive for an intimate festival but also because the tickets will sell-out in no time to people who don't really care about the other bands, thus leaving the loyal Dunk! audience in the cold. No, Dunk is the place for Russian Circles, God Is An Astronaut, Mono and This Will Destroy You. Everything bigger than that can go do Cactus Festival or Werchter. 

Besides, what makes Dunk! such a stand-out is the vast amount of overall quality which turns a young, nervous band like The End Of The Ocean, Radare or Spoiwo into a world class performance act, let's not forget about that. Undoubtedly, in 2019 there will be plenty of bands with that classic post rock sound. Perhaps one or two of the previously mentioned bands will make a glorious return, since I read that they're both working on new material. Same goes for Cecilia::Eyes and Astodan. With those last two, we remain on Belgian territory and since Amenra climbed the Dunk! stage we all know what Belgians are capable of. 

Should Amenra return? That question has been on a lot of people's lips in the past few years. If that means that CHVE and Syndrome do solo performances at the forest stage I'm all in. Besides, an acoustic full-band set at the forest stage would also be wonderful. I'd actually rather see that: their version of 'Het Dorp' in the forest. The goosebumps would be tremendous, no doubt. 

Since we moved to the forest stage really early in this article, I see some neat possibilities there. Calm, soothing ambient sounds at night, not too loud but loud enough for everybody in the area to dream away on meandering soundscapes. People spread out on the forest floor, sailing on the drones of Biosphere, Eluvium or Helios. In fact, you don't even have to go abroad to find some decent ambient acts. Just ask Ashtoreth or Stratosphere to host one evening in the forest and it will be magical, I swear to whatever you believe in. Or have Dave Grohl play a thirty minutes drones set, that would also be fucking sweet.

It doesn't always have to be calm and soothing. A while ago I read that there's something new from I Am Waiting For You Last Summer. They were a fun surprise a few years back. Dance music and post rock can go pretty well together. With that, acts like Tycho, Yppah, Jon Hopkins and Nicolas Jaar/Darkside could bring a state of ecstasy to the big tent. So can Worriedaboutsatan who have proved that in the past. And why not, back in the woods, invite a mindbending psychedelic rock band like Ozric Tentacles and dance the night away. It's rock and it's instrumental, that counts. Dutch proggers Kong also answer to those conditions and their career is far from over. I really really really really really like to see that happen, preferable of course in their quadrophonic set up, which will bring them back on the pedestal I've placed them on all those years ago.

​And since we're on the subject of being instrumental and rocking, why not let the inventor of the forest stage make a glorious return to Dunk!. Some years ago, Eric occupied the woods and with that Thisquietarmy changed the whole atmosphere of the festival. I recently witnessed his full-band performance at Antwerp Music City. If anyone can outperform the seismic shock of Telepathy last year, it's Thisquietarmy The Band. In his turn, Eric could invite Aidan Baker over and have an evening-filling program with Hypnodrone Ensemble, Caudal and Nadja. Of course, Telepathy is also very welcome to return, so I'd say: "who not both?". 

Heaviness. Are we ready for post black metal yet? Deafhaven? Sólstafir? Alcest? Drawn Into Descent? Little by little blast-beats and screams have been infiltrating the line-up, so who knows. Then again, I'm not sure if that's what the Dunk audience is waiting for. Perhaps they like their heaviness a bit slower but still crushing like a steamroller. That takes me to Melvins or Neurosis or Cult Of Luna or something by former Isis members. Here in Belgium that would open the door for Charnia, Hæster or Angakok. Crushing riffs that smash skulls to pieces. Or why not go wild with some sludgy stoner grunge rock. There too is plenty to choose from, with Belgian nutcrackers Tangled Horns being the first one that comes to mind. Perhaps they could take over where Steak Number Eight left.

Throughout the years, Dunk Festival evolved from a post rock festival to an allround atmospheric music event. There is plenty of variation to be found. Even (dark) jazz has a place there, with Dirk Serries and Tomas Jarmyr paving the way for bands like Radare and Bolt to shine and charm. That brings me to Dale Cooper Quartet and the Dictaphones, Bohren Und Der Club Of Gore, A Sun Amissa or The Thing With Five Eyes. I have no idea who is when available to be where but some jazz would be neat indeed. 

Yet, as we all know, Dunk's solid core is still post rock. I guess their own label will be represented with bands like Coastlands, Tides Of Man, Stories From The Lost and that mysterious Girih entity. Perhaps Celestial Wolves or Doomina will make a comeback, having a new album and all. That's all perfectly fine by me, but if I could make some suggestions, invite The Evpatoria Report, Glasgow Coma Scale, Toundra and Jet Plane. Plus, perhaps give Wanheda a shot. They're getting somewhere and with the vintage Dunk sound, all of these would be pure bliss.
​
​There are truckloads of decent post rock band to be found, more than enough to fill a thousand stages at a thousand Dunk festivals. I'm sure that the organisation will come up with some classics, some surprises and a lot of excellence. But, do you know what I'd secretly like, even more than seeing someone finally propose to his girlfriend on stage: a guided tour through the pressing plant. I think it takes guts and a massive pair of testicles to throw an idea like that into motion, especially in these rough financial times. Building a pressing plant was a serious risk and a tremendous undertaking and I'd like to see it in action. Don't you?

So anyway, before I crawl my tired ass to bed: there can and probably will be some amazing bands appearing on the line-up in the next months. I can't wait to go back to the fields of Zottegem and watch the splendor of music turn everyday strangers into close friends. Because that's pretty much what Dunk is all about: they true spirit of the festivals, as Woodstock or Jazz Bilzen initially were intended. Sweet get-togethers with sweet people and sweet music in one of Belgium's greenest environments. I'm looking forward to that. 


Serge

Kort daarna kwam ons landje in de greep van gemeenteraadsverkiezingen en leek de hele episode rond Consouling Sounds te verwateren. Maar ondertussen, in een stevige uiting van "kust onze kloten", ging er een eindje verderop een spiksplinternieuwe vinylpersfabriek open. De mannen van Dunk! hadden eerder ook al een mooie som centen aan hun neus voorbij zien gaan onder het motto "niet relevant", "geen geld meer voor". Toch hielden ze er niet mee op, integendeel. Als volleerde F35's schoten ze uit de startblokken en vlamden ze alle twijfels aan flarden. Zotte shit, ik weet het, maar uiteraard totaal niet relevant.

Het nieuws kwam eigenlijk niet eens als een verrassing maar het trof ergens wel het hart van de Belgische "underground". Er worden immers overal subsidies ingetrokken. Het geld is op, de put is te diep. "Het spijt ons maar na weloverwogen blabla hebben wij besloten blabla want u bent niet blabla." Zoiets. Vooral de melding "U levert geen kwaliteit" kwam als een tsunami over. Daarmee werd plots iedereen beledigd die van rock, metal, sludge, doom, post-rock, post-metal, ambient, dark ambient, dark jazz, drones, industrial, krautrock, alternative rock, indie pop, hardcore, punk, black metal, death metal, noise, gothic rock, modern classical,  post-hardcore, neofolk, downtempo, trip hop, electronic, crossover, progressive, noise, nu metal en grunge houdt. En dat zijn er wel wat.

Als er iets relevant is in deze maatschappij, dan is het toch wel de muziekwereld, niet? De frustratie, de pijn en de woede in onze metalscene, die gevoelens gaan over u, dames en heren politici, veel relevanter kan het toch niet zijn?  U zou verplicht moeten worden om al die songteksten eens goed te lezen, maar ik weet dat u het bos door het beton niet meer ziet dus daar zullen we u al niet mee lastig vallen. Niet relevant. Wie zijn dan wel relevant? K3? Kapitein Winokio? De Romeo's? Niks tegen die mensen maar het cognitieve niveau van hun doelgroep is net iets te laag om mijn volle vertrouwen te kunnen genieten.

Niet relevant. Er staan files omdat er optredens in het Sportpaleis zijn. Files zijn het meest voorkomende gespreksonderwerp in heel België.​ Als u touren zou afschaffen, zouden er minder files zijn, maar ik wil u niet op ideeën brengen. Als u latere treinen zou inleggen, zouden er ook minder files zijn, om u maar op een idee te brengen. Niks leuker dan na een avondje headbangen in Brussel in de trein te zitten mijmeren. Nagenietend van een fantastisch concert veilig naar huis gebracht worden door een betrouwbare trein- of busmaatschappij, dat is tof. Maar ik heb dan ook geen chauffeur.

Laten we gewoon lekker eerlijk zijn, dames en heren politici. U houdt gewoon niet zo van de muziekwereld. U interesseert zich geen moer voor wat de rockers, de metalheads en de alternatievelingen uitkramen, nietwaar? Al die gore onderwereldrotzooi is een ranzige ver-van-uw-bed-show waar u het bestaan liever van ontkent.  U vertrouwt hen niet, omdat zij u de indruk geven dat zij u eigenlijk nergens voor nodig hebben. En dat is ook zo. Daar in die concertzaal bent ù niet relevant, brengt ù geen kwaliteit, heeft ù geen geschiedenis. Daar spuwen jonge, meestal vrij intelligente en vrij aardige mensen, hun gal en daar delen zij de lakens uit. 

Nog zoiets. Geen geschiedenis. Consouling Sounds zet al tien jaar Belgische topacts op de kaart. Amenra trekt in Amerika meer volk dan eender welke politieke conferentie hier. Ook hier weer straalt het uit naar de hele underground. Antwerp Music City doet al vijfentwintig jaar zijn ding, tussen de door u o zo gevreesde vreemdelingen. Dat is langer dan de gemiddelde politieke carrière. Jazz Bilzen heeft iets losgemaakt hier, niet te schatten. Geen geschiedenis, wat een wereldvreemde nonsens. Toegegeven, de gemiddelde muzikant in België heeft geen handjes afgehakt omdat zijn roadies te traag waren, maar om ons nu geschiedenisloos te noemen vind ik wel een beetje ver gaan.

Lang geleden bouwden enkele Limburgse jongeren een podium. Ze wilden wel eens iets anders dan een vaandelzwaaifestival. Hun festivalletje werd een succes. Doorheen de jaren kwamen er grote namen op af, namen die geschiedenis zijn. Armand, Boudewijn de Groot, Wannes Van de Velde, Roland, Moody Blues, Taste, Rory Gallagher, Cat Stevens, Small Faces, The Move, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath, The Kinks, The Troggs, Procol Harum, Golden Earring, The Bonzo Dog Band, Rod Stewart, Status Quo, Lou Reed, Aerosmith, AC/DC, The Cure, The Kids, Van Morrison, James Brown, Elvis Costello, The Police, Thin Lizzy, The Clash, Blondie en Nils Lofgren. Jazz Bilzen werd de "moeder aller festivals". Dàt hoort in de geschiedenisboeken want dàt heeft generaties geïnspireerd. 

België is het epicentrum van de Europese muziekindustrie. Elk dorp heeft zijn concertzaal, of tenminste een plek waar al eens een concertje kan doorgaan. Ik heb honderden artiesten ontmoet die maar al te graag in dit land willen spelen. Onze know-how is wereldberoemd. Ons publiek is geliefd tot in Maleisië. Ze zeggen wel eens, "hoe slechter het land draait, hoe beter de muziek wordt", enne, ik heb de laatste maanden en jaren toch een bende fantastische concerten van Belgische acts gezien. Gisteren vlamde Astodan door een lekker smeuïge set post-rock. Astodan ja, zegt u als politicus waarschijnlijk niets maar het is kwaliteit van Belgische makelij.

Het is allemaal wel waar wat ik hier neerschrijf, maar ik betwijfel of het ooit een zak uithaalt. Al sinds de jaren tachtig, toen ik mijn eerste schamele stapjes in de muziekwereld zette, merkte ik dat we liever doodgezwegen worden. Al eerder riepen punkers dat de kernraketten weg moesten, dat was toen relevant. Al eerder riepen musici op om het milieu te sparen, dat was toen relevant. Al eerder organiseerden rockers benefietconcerten tegen kanker, voor verdraagzaamheid, voor elkaar, dat was voor hen relevant. Maar dat is allemaal maar geneuzel van een bende marginalen, niet?

Als we dan toch een positieve noot aan onze geschiedenis willen geven, waarom dan onze muziekwereld niet erkennen en steunen? 


Serge

Dit stukje schreef ik op 16 augustus, na het zien van live beelden op facebook. Pukkelpop was weer volop op dreef om de krantenkoppen te halen, niet met een dodelijk onweer maar met een ongeziene reeks polonaises, knoppendraaiers en - godbetert- Willy Sommers. Mauro had de gekooide leeuw losgelaten en plots smolten Pukkelpop en Rimpelrock samen tot één gigantisch volksfeest. Allemaal goed en wel, ware het niet dat oude Pukkelrotten hun schoenzolen stonden op te vreten omdat de hele boel nu meer op een platte kermisfuif leek dan op een alternatief rock festival.

Volgens de commentaren leek Pukkelpop ineens veel meer op een live versie van de hele Soundcloud rap scene waar volgekribbelde schoolbankkoppen kwamen zaniken over drugs, bitches en kontgaatjes. Nu ja, die trend is al jaren bezig. Ooit voorspelde Jim Morrison dat mensen meer zullen gaan geven om DJ's dan om bands, en kijk, voor een doorgesnoven junk had Jim wel Nostradamische eigenschappen. Duizenden mensen in Kiewit wierpen zichzelf in de polonaise, ongetwijfeld aangestuurd door dé tophit van het jaar, 'Kind Van De Duivel'. 

Dat ik dat een meedogenloos zeiknummer vind, weet iedereen al. En dat ik heel het DJ gebeuren op festivals jammer vind, weten de meesten ook al. Allee ja, zelfs in de metal scene is het zover. Goe Vur In Den Otto headlinet meer festivals dan de gemiddelde metalband tegenwoordig, en waarom ook niet? Zo heb je lekker alle goede nummers en hoef je niet een half uur naar album-only rommel te luisteren. Je weet wel, die tussendoortjes tussen 'Enter Sandman' en 'Nothing Else Matters'. 

Wat ik vooral jammer vond was het feit dat een 100% Belgisch exportproduct als AmenRa het moest doen met een halfvolle marquee en met mensen die zichzelf interessant stonden te maken tijdens de rustige passages. "Kan de muziek wat stiller? Wij proberen hier een gesprek te voeren", dat soort slachtafval. Ik heb die ook gezien tijdens Massive Attack op Cactus festival, luid tetterend over de reis naar Mallorca en de strenge veiligheidsnormen die op vliegvelden gelden. Het respect is weg, zo simpel is het. Ooit stonden mensen vooraan het speeksel van Dave Grohl op te vangen, nu staan ze liedjes over Congo te zingen. 

Daarnet kreeg ik een vriendelijk mailtje van DJ Zinobe, een house DJ die me een beetje enerveerde op de meest recente editie van Willrock. Ik had er een stevige facebook-post aan gespendeerd waarna de DJ vroeg wat er mis was aan zijn set. Al snel drong het tot me door dat ik hier door mijn eigen mand aan het vallen was. Ik vertelde hem dat hij teveel intros gebruikte en dat hij best een nummer enkele minuten kon laten knallen. Een DJ moet het publiek uit de bol laten gaan en pas dan zijn technische kunsten tonen, net zoals een rockband best enkele snedige riffs uit hun mouw kan toveren en pas dan progressive begint te Dream Theater pingelen.

Maar plots besefte ik dat DJ Zinobe eigenlijk zowat hetzelfde deed als ik enkele tientallen jaren geleden. Hij probeerde. Hij wil DJ worden, net zoals ik een bekende gitarist wilde worden. En kijk, Zino speelt festivals en dancings plat en ik zit in mijn zetel commentaar te geven op zijn kunsten. Ik las mijn comment opnieuw. Eigenlijk was het een soort chauvinistisch verdedigen van mijn eigen winkel, eentje die gespecialiseerd is in alles wat Zino niet doet: rock, metal, ambient, jazz... 

Ik dacht, "ik ben een vakidioot" en "ik heb geen idee waar de hedendaagse muziekbeleving eigenlijk om draait". Maar de reactie van Zino op mijn bericht verbaasde mij nog meer. In een wereld vol haat, wantrouwen en galspuwerij koos Zino ervoor om eerlijke feedback te vragen, zichzelf vriendelijk voor te stellen en mijn tip mee te nemen naar volgende optredens. Daar zat ik dan, de eeuwig positieve muziekreviewer, verbijsterd door een jonge gast die eigenlijk gewoon liefst zijn eigen pad wil bewandelen.

Ben ik jaloers? Zijn alle analoge muzikanten jaloers op het succes van DJ's? Misschien wel. Anderzijds ben ik iemand die liever met zijn eigen werk op het podium staat dan dat van andere mensen, maar ook dat blijkt gewoon de mening van een enkeling. Er zijn tegenwoordig zelfs coverbandfestivals, waar je naar imitaties van Guns 'N Roses, Queen or Pink Floyd kan gaan kijken. Het origineel doet er steeds minder toe. Dus neen, ik ben niet jaloers, alleen een beetje melancholisch.

En hoe kan het eigenlijk ook anders? Wij, oude rotten in het vak, weten dat muziek alles kan overstijgen, zèlfs de mensen die de muziek maken. De technologie staat bijna ver genoeg om de mens uit de muziek te halen. Er bestaan schijnbaar al 100% door artificiële intelligentie gemaakte tracks, gebaseerd op de maat, tonen en timbre van wereldberoemde tophits. Muziek heeft ons niet nodig, andersom wel. Dio is dood maar tourt nog steeds, leg dat maar eens uit aan de gemiddelde festivalneanderthaler. Nu goed, wellicht zal die neanderthaler er gewoon doorheen lullen, zijn bakkes enkel dichthoudend tijdens het nemen ener selfie.

Ik denk dat we het best gewoon kunnen aanvaarden. Zoals ik ooit droomde op om het podium van Rock Werchter te staan, zo droomt Zino over Tomorrowland. Eerlijk? Ik gun het hem. Ik ga niet kijken want het geheel zal mijn rockhart genadeloos irriteren maar ik zal hem wel horen vanop mijn terras. Hopelijk stuurt hij me dan nog een bericht met een foto van duizenden uitzinnige fans, wild dansend op zijn intros en op die paar knallende minuten die ik hem heb aangeraden. Ook dan zal ik niet jaloers zijn, ook niet als hij plots een megahit scoort. Zino is een toffe pee, een hard werkende muzikale technicus en een mens met dromen, meer moet dat eigenlijk niet zijn.


​Serge

Eerst voelde het een beetje raar. Tenslotte ben je toch iemand anders zijn rotzooi aan het opruimen. Sommige voorbijgangers dachten dat we een werkstraf gekregen hadden. Ja, misschien wel, gestraft voor iemand anders zijn wangedrag. Die mensen keken overigens raar op wanneer we hen vertelden dat we vrijwilligers waren. Vol ongeloof staarden ze ons aan, en vice versa. Toch geeft heel dat zwerfvuil opruimen een stevige dosis voldoening. De voor- en na- foto's zijn soms adembenemend en elke volle zak is toch weer een prestatie. Daarnaast is elke volle zak ook een stevige trap in de kloten van de vervuilers, althans, zo voelt het aan. Het beloningsmechanisme in onze hersenen draait op volle toeren, zoveel is zeker.

Door dat vrijwilligerswerk ben ik alerter geworden op zwerfvuil. Het is één van de dingen die me het snelst opvalt. Tijdens wandelingen in parken, wanneer ik wacht op de tram, wanneer ik een festival binnenkom... altijd springt die vuiligheid in mijn oog. Zoals steeds meer mensen kan ik er ook steeds minder vaak tegen. Soms wordt het zelfs een storende factor. Daarbij begint het tegenwoordig echt wel de spuigaten uit te lopen. Flessen, blikjes, luchtmatrassen, vakantieliefjes, tenten, stoelen, tafels... alles wordt tegenwoordig zomaar achtergelaten. Vooral op grote evenementen kan je perfect gave kampeerspullen tegenkomen, genoeg om duizenden vluchtelingen op te vangen.

Als ik dit fenomeen vanuit een maatschappelijk en economisch standpunt bekijk, verbaast het me eigenlijk niet eens meer. Alles lijkt een beetje uit de hand te lopen. Een gemiddeld festival, ticket plus eten plus drinken, kost tegenwoordig meer dan een week in Dubai. Het is amper nog te betalen door de aardbeienplukkende jobstudent. Ten tweede worden er op Werchter, Tomorrowland, Cactus Festival en Pukkelpop meer selfies genomen dan noten muziek gespeeld. Grote festivals zijn een beetje een elite-event geworden, iets waar het meer draait om Instagram- volgers dan om bands, maar goed, dat moeten zij weten. Feit is wel dat die elite voornamelijk bestaat uit jonge snaken die met jonge bimbo's in geleasede Audi's rondtoeren. Daags voor het festival rijden de meesten nog eventjes langs de AS Adventure om wat duurzame wegwerptroep te kopen. Zo gaat dat tegenwoordig.

Na het festival zijn ze moe, uitgeput, leeg en op. En dat is ook volkomen logisch. Die mensen zijn het niet gewend om te moeten stappen. Hun leven speelt zich af op hun zitvlak of in dat van die jonge bimbo. Een gemiddeld festival vergt toch al zo'n 10 kilometer per dag, vraag maar aan mijn stappenteller. Dat is vermoeiend, zeker als er dan ook nog eens minder dan 12 uur slaap per dag bijkomt, alsook de afkick van de coke en speed en bollen of dacht u dat de flikken dat allemaal netjes in de hand hadden? Dus die jongetjes en meisjes zijn te moe om hun tent op te ruimen, dat is volkomen begrijpelijk. Daarnaast betalen ze al genoeg dus kan de organisatie toch ook wel zorgen voor de properheid van het geheel, wat is me dat nu?

Maar goed, dat zijn de verwende nestjes op de grote festivals. Op kleine evenementen is het toch een heel stuk beter, niet? Wel, soms. Aan de ene kant vind ik die kleine, recycleerbare flesjes van Coca Cola, Fanta en Nestea beter dan die fantasieloze plastic pinten maar anderzijds heb ik gisteren een nogal fors gebouwde dame over zo'n flesje zien uitglijden. Gelukkig was haar nog forser gebouwde partner paraat om erger te voorkomen. Toch toont het de onverschilligheid die er dezer dagen over het hele festivalgebeuren hangt en dat is doodzonde. Te meer omdat het anders kan. Ik en duizend andere mensen hebben dat mogen meemaken in Zottegem, waar Dunk! festival het properste evenement aller tijden is geworden.

Wat Dunk! anders doet? Ze gebruiken herbruikbare bekers. Ze zetten voldoende vuilnisbakken neer, ook op de camping. Die vuilnisbakken worden regelmatig leeggemaakt en vervangen. Dunk! is kleinschalig genoeg om eten in échte borden en met écht bestek te serveren. Maar het grootste geheim schuilt in de mentaliteit van het publiek. Afval wordt wel degelijk opgeruimd. Weinig of niets komt op de grond terecht en de prachtige groene omgeving van het festival wordt met veel respect behandeld. Een absoluut voorbeeld. Daarbij, dat publiek krijgt nog eens een onvergetelijke festivalervaring in de plaats. 

Die mentaliteit heeft te maken met spiegelneuronen, het zogenaamde "monkey-see-monkey-do" principe. Als jij je campingstekje als een afvalberg achterlaat, is de kans groot dat die naast jou dat ook gaat doen. Festivals waar vrijwilligers na elk optreden eventjes met de keerborstel door de tent gaan, zijn beduidend properder dan evenementen waar dat niet gebeurt. Er spoelen potvissen aan met stukken tentzeil in hun maag. Het mag wel eens stoppen nu. 


​Serge

I'm not sure about the rest of the world, but here in Belgium Tournée Minérale kicked off yesterday. Tournée Minérale is one of those awareness-months initiatives, such as 30 Days Without Meat, Music For Life and many more. It's organised by the foundation against cancer and challenges people to not drink alcohol for a whole month.

Many people join in on the fun so I thought that this would be an excellent opportunity to abuse the system and promote ourselves with another selection of applicable tunes. After all, that is what we do best. So go grab a glass of water, snort some cocaine or eat a handful of mushrooms, as long as you do not drink alcohol this month. Or better, get yourself a nice cup of coffee and chew some celery. 

I'm kidding, do whatever you want but always ensure safety for you and those around you. I just wanted to make a list with Tool's 'Sober' in it, that's all. 

There we go. Admit it, this is a brilliant piece of music by a tremendously talented band. This was the first song that came to mind when I heard about Tournée Minérale. The stop-motion animation still gives me the chills. 

Originally recorded in 1999 and re-recorded to close his latest album 'Alcohology', 'Erosion' handles "The thoughtful statements of the gain and dangers of the consumption of alcohol (),  the impact fluids have, not only on the human body but also on Mother Earth itself." 

Today, he's probably best known for his long-living stint as Clement Peerens Explosition but Hugo Matthysen has been playing sweet and funny rock tunes since the late seventies. On 'Alcohol' he gives a few examples about people's behaviour while drunk.

If there is any good reason not to get too drunk, it's this one. I mean, imagine: somehow after a wild party you end up in bed with a beautiful young blonde, willing to satisfy your every need. You get naked and you look down. There you see that your little friend is not cooperating. Your willie is already passed out cold. Not a fun evening if you ask me.

This song appeared on Lamb Of God's album 'As The Palaces Burn'. It is about the struggle of vocalist Randy Blythe with alcohol addiction. ​"Sweetly she draws me into her arms, a liquid embrace to chase the day away. Sedate numb deaf and dumb, stumbling into solitude".

During Underworld gigs, many fans would raise their beer while Karl Hyde sang the words 'Lager Lager Lager Lager'. Actually, this horrified him because this song is a cry for help. He wrote it after a night of heavy drinking in a Soho club during his battle with alcoholism.

Dream Theater drummer Mike Portnoy wrote his "Twelve-step Suite", a set of songs which represent the Twelve Step program used by Alcoholics Anonymous. The songs were spread across five albums and dedicated to Bill Wilson, the founder of AA.

One day while recording 'Born Again', then Black Sabbath vocalist Ian Gillan got wasted and decided to race a few laps on a nearby race track. Their management had bought them these cars to have a little fun in between recording sessions but Gillan's took the wrong one (Bill Ward's) and eventually flipped it over, totally thrashing the vehicle. 

Many people might see Blink 182 as a fun punk rock band but they do have some messages to spread. This song for example is about finally giving up on a friend with a severe alcohol problem. 

Metal has always been associated with alcohol abuse with many songs about the substance. This one by proto-doomers Saint Vitus describes the vicious cycle of heavy drinking, feeling horrible and getting drunk to ease the pain.

I wonder if that friend Blink 182 was talking about also strongly denied his alcohol addiction. Amy Winehouse died of alcohol poisoning in 2011. 'Rehab' is possible her greatest hit, dealing with denial. Apparently, she went into rehab for 15 minutes just to be able to tell her label that she went to rehab. Perhaps Amy Winehouse is today's perfect example about how not to deal with addiction.

Blues legend Muddy Waters was no stranger to the bottle. Then again, blues is usually rather whiskey soaked. "Whiskey you ain't no good I declare I'm thru with you. Whiskey you ain't no good I declare I'm thru with you. You have taken all my money. You have taken my baby too".

Dave Gahan has been battling alcoholism for years. This song deals with the idea one of "just one glass" before everything goes wrong again. 

In this skit from 1977, Waits imitates a drunkard, spouting nonsense phrases. ​The song was performed on the short-lived US television show, Fernwood 2 Night in 1977.

And we finish this list with a Nederhop tune by legendary rappers Osdorp Posse. This song handles the ups and down of alcohol consumption and addiction.

There you go, fifteen songs that should help you through this Tournée Minérale month. On March first, we might publish a list of drinking songs to help you celebrate a month of not-drinking but maybe by then I'd find that a little hypocritical. Anyway, whatever you do, take good care of yourself and remember to enjoy in moderation...


​Serge

The year 2017 is coming to an end. Magazines everywhere are coming up with the inevitable end-year lists and I somehow feel obliged to do something similar. I also asked the other Merchants Of Air members to send in a list or an article if they want to. That's the beauty of  working for Merchants Of Air: you don't have to. 
Personally, I'm not very fond of end-year lists. For starters, I don't even know all the albums that have been released in 2017. There are still hundreds, if not thousands, waiting to be reviewed. Many of them will not make it, unfortunately. We're severely understaffed you know.

Second, I think in 2017 my focus shifted from many different music reviews to one bmassive music review, because, quite frankly, that is what "Cecilia's World" really is. I spent the majority of the year writing it and then it had to be prepared for release, which was a frustrating and lengthy task. But when I could finally lay my hands of a copy of my own debut novel, I was proud and pleased. Writing a book has always been one of the major goals in my life and I wrote a good one. I did. Just ask the people who have read it. Just read the reactions. In fact, last night my most judgicial friend said "Cecilia's World is a damn good debut". This really meant a lot to me because this guy is brutally honest. So yes, 'Cecilia's World' is my biggest accolade this year.

So I have been browsing Merchants Of Air to refresh my musical memory. It actually gave me a headache. "Do I have to choose from all of these?", was my initial thought, followed by "this is impossible". However, if found something interesting. There seems to be a common ground for many of 2017's best albums. Just look at this list.

Bathsheba - Servus
Ashtoreth - Morana
AmenRa - Mass VI
Emptiness - Not For Music
All We Expected - Hatàr
Wiegedood - De Doden Hebben Het Goed II
Ilydaen - Veil
Monnik - Bedevaart
Marginal - Total Destruction
Marco Bailey - Temper

From doom metal to drone ambient and from black metal to post-rock and even techno, Belgium wins 2017. Bathsheba delivered the doom metal album of the year in January. AmenRa conquered the post-metal scene (again) and All We Expected managed to showcase the sound of the great ones. Our drone ambient scene has never been so alive, Ashtoreth and Monnik just being two examples of the brilliance our country possesses. Let's not forget about Dirk Serries and his massive influence on the ambient and jazz scenes 

In the extreme musical regions we find Marginal who delivered one of the best grind/crust albums I have ever heard and Wiegedood continue their path of blackened destruction. Furthermore, as we Belgians are known for our huge history of electronic dance music, Marco Bailey has once again shown the world how techno should sound. Our musicians do a way better job than our politicians, law enforcers and civil servants together. So I'll just go ahead and say that Belgium produced the best albums of 2017. There you have it.

That doesn't mean that the other countries suck, far from it. Our neighbours delivered some neat stuff too. In the Netherlands, Dead Neanderthals threw some awesome albums in our mailbox. They single handedly altered the future of jazz music. MNHM delivered an astonishing album with 'Of Empires Past' and Wrok's 'De Onheilsbode' is just pure evil. But awesome music came from everywhere, literally all over the planet. India turned out to have a huge underground metal scene with plenty of amazing albums coming through.

Oh well, let's just face it. From a musical standpoint 2017 was a fantastic year. Other remarkable albums came from Monophona, Bolt, Dale Cooper Quartet and the Dictaphones, Dictaphone, Samael, Moonspell, ... Just read our reviews....

Ok, my ego wants the first paragraph in this part of my overview. Like all people, I love being right. Like when I was right when I said that Meniscus would be one of the top gigs at Dunk! Festival for example. However, there is one person who definitely made my year as far as me being right about an artist. I have seen him bloom, evolve from a being decent mid-carter to delivering one of the best drone/ambient performances I have ever seen. Me and a handful of people witnessed Stratosphere rise above himself. For years I have known he had it in him and it finally came out. The future looks good for Ronald.

Besides, Thisquietarmy was highly impressive too that same evening. His was another top-10 gig. For once, let's make an actual list.

Stratosphere (Palazzo)
Spirit Valley (Desertfest)
Thisquietarmy (Palazzo)
Bohren Und Der Club Of Gore (Het Bos)
Bonobo (Brussels)
Bathsheba (Rodeofest)
O Yuki Conjugate (Ampère)
Lord Kesseli and the Drums (Antwerp Music City)
The Void Of Expansion (Dunk! Festival)
Meniscus (Dunk! Festival)
Yodok III / Barst / A-Sun Amissa (Consouling Night) | Trix

There, I think those have been the eleven most impressive gigs in 2017. Of course, there is more. I have also seen Drawn Into Descent evolve into a force to be reckoned with. I enjoyed many acts at Dunk!, Rodeo and Desertfest. Antwerp Music City and Het Bos have booked some amazing evenings. As you can see, most of these gigs happened in my hometown of Antwerp. You really don't need to go any further than Antwerp to witness some good concerts. 

That being said, unfortunately the good people behind Rodeofest recently decided to call it quits. One of the nicest festivals in Belgium is no more and I truly regret that. They were an inspiration, literally. So a word of thanks goes out to them. Let's hope someone else gets the brilliant idea of organising a festival in that beautiful fort.

I think for the majority, this website has been steadily flowing in 2017. Our number of visitors increased, even though fewer reviews have been published. We've been busy. 2017 was also the year where we finally decided that we cannot keep up with everything so we (or I) no longer stress over that aspect. However, Glauber joined in on the fun as the latest member of our crew. Like I always say, "the more the merrier". I'm sure that in the near future, he will take a lot of albums off my hands.

The absolute peak in article views of 2017 was the review for Amenra's 'Mass VI', followed by my Dutch column 'Kruishangerige Kuttenkovense Kerkkoe'. The latter certainly was a surprise. The rest of the top-10 is occupied by Brieviews, which is not a surprise since those contain several album reviews. Obviously more of these will come in the future. Over a hundred people watched the live stream of the Amenra release concert on our website. That was pretty cool too. 

Money talk. 2017 was the year in which Merchants Of Air finally became profitable. We've actually sold more t-shirts than ever before and some people have purchased our free compilation. With all expenses deducted, we made a profit of 20 euros, plus 2.61 more waiting on Amazon. Cool hé.

To be honest, there is not one album I'm specifically looking forward to. I know there are some interesting ones coming up but I'll just wait and see. I'll just let the music surprise me again. Same goes for Merchants Of Air. Maybe other writers will join, maybe not. Maybe more reviews will be published, maybe not.

On a personal standpoint, I'll try to continue what I'm doing now. I'll still publish heaps of reviews and articles and I'll try to combine that with a writing career. The first paragraphs of my next novel have been penned down. I can already promise you, it's going to be something very, very different from the sweet and joyous 'Cecilia's World'. 

We'll see.


Serge