sit, smoke, yawn?

prometheus is a cafe i used to think of as the perfect place for me, the all too refined and jaded one, to sit, smoke and yawn, inertly perpetuating my so-called social life among dubious aging intellectuals. i never had the money it took to be a regular, though. and when i heard al jawala were coming to town to play there on the 23rd of march, i was downright startled. oh no. the place will be strewn with tables and packed with snobs just sitting, smoking, yawning. no room to dance, no money to drink. hell on earth.
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...and so i went. i thought hey, if my mom's shaking off her nausea and coming along of her own will, there is still hope. but as soon as i entered the venue, it was all physical and mental discomfort. my mind and body numbed as i sat, smoked and yawned. just another gig. by now i've seen so much that i'm immune. erm, i do love al jawala, at least i used to back when i gave a damn about things. whatever.
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then they came onstage and sparks flew. introducing: steffi schimmer (alto sax), krischan lukanow (tenor sax), markus schumacher (drums and percussion), daniel pellegrini (drums, percussion and didgeridoo) and daniel verdier le diable de marseilles (bass). surprisingly on time for us romanians, not for them pluriethnic germans. their tonic smiles and greetings triggered our laughter and applause instantaneously, even before they began to play. it felt like i'd missed them indeed. the place was not infernally crammed and the drinks were on poor mom. not to worry. balkan beatz flooded the club and awaaay i went...

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i closed my eyes to the sitting-smoking-yawning snobs and i felt my memories of stufstock and my longing for the seaside amplify. wind in my salty hair, burnt skin and al jawala. those were the days, my friend, and to get to see them perform live once again was worth all the enthusiasm i could squeeze out of my oh so tainted corazon. no lyrics to relate to, no ideas advocated, nothing to yell along. yet not the slightest shade of boredom. these people are born entertainers. not only is their music the heck of a spirited one, but the good mood they emanated as they spoke in between songs was contagious. and who needs lyrics when you've got the beat and, above all, the gift of melody? irresistibly danceable tunes of wordless rapture, those were. cheerful grooves interlaced with hypnotizingly dramatic passages. steffi and krischan's saxes sounded like human voices, both in harmony and in dialogue. the guys in the rhythm section pounded as if to their own pulses. so clean but full, so sharp but mellow, so envelopping a sound. german quality, balkan soul. i just wanted to whirl and twirl and swirl with my hands up in the air. they had to honour not one, but two encores. or they'd have suffered the wrath of the frantic audience. i can't remember the last time the end of any concert found me literally dripping with sweat.

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and yes, most everyone else too ended up anything but sitting, smoking, yawning.