[Seoul?] Going to see music in a foreign land mid-conference seemed like a
far-fetched goal but I’d made it! To the neighborhood at least… what a
neighborhood it was (Hongdae). Lights flashing up and down and left to right—different
music colliding at the intersection. Practically everyone walking the sidewalks
was dewy (under 25) … I was glad I was only visiting and not sleeping. After
getting lost for the 93rd time since arriving in Korea, I tracked
down dinner and then crossed the street in search of the mythical “Club FF,”
described by Lonely Planet as a “top live venue with up to eight local indie
bands playing at the weekend until midnight. Afterwards it becomes a dance club
with DJs.” Eight bands a night! Korean overachievement crosses many domains. The
entrance was was one wide expanse with an elfin man out front behind an
important imposing stand twice as tall as he. He was guarding the precious Club
FF against the onslaught of a crowd of … 1… me. He spoke more English than most
and swiftly crushed my dreams of a quick 7:30p show: “twenty-five dollars.”
Nope. I rarely pay that much for bands I know and like. Persistent in the face
of my hesitation, he whipped out a one-foot long skinny fan-folded pamphlet and
explained it was Live Club Day, a monthly event where your ticket gains you
admission to all the clubs in the area. This was good. This was real good. But
I had to be at ‘work’ (conference) the next day… but it was sort of a
SouthBy-miracle when it wasn’t even SXSW… and then the voices of all of the
friends & partners who have encouraged me over the years to be less of a
cheapskate pushed my hand to my wallet such that I found my wrist bound with a
paper-party-bracelet on a work night in a foreign land. Club FF was good. Dark,
disorienting. The walls covered in graffiti or stuff—I don’t know.
The crowd
was of a decent size—the young in the front by the stage, those of respectable
age at tables in the back, and your typical refusing-to-age ruffians to the
side at the bar. With all of the people-watching I’ve done in the last week, it’s
amused me, and sort of existentially distressed me, how the human types are so
universal. The band looked to be a foursome of 7 year olds. Ja. From what I’m
seeing online, they’re my age. The Koreans win again. There were two females,
two males. The former two on drums and bass, the latter two on guitar and
vocals. They were so good, I couldn’t stop my silly grin. Their supreme
nerdiness (Apple sticker on guitar, sheepreme sticker (which was actually
awesome)) was totally trumped by joyful confidence. They were sophisticated
rock with pop hooks, derivative of important bands while totally having their
own sound. Made me think of Talking Heads, MGMT, weird 90s alt-pop bands, Tom
Tom Club, James, David Bowie. They could be bass heavy (to their benefit) and
the lead singer employed all sorts of voices—he was a dynamo of energy and joy,
regularly running into the audience. And the crowd knew their songs. The
bartender was confused by my tip for my drink and pushed it back, nodding that
it was my money—there appears to be no tipping in Korea or I’m blazing a trail
for more animosity for Americans ja, but when I asked what the name of the band
was, there was no confusion—she wrote it out for me in Korean and English. The
amount of English-speaking I experienced that night was rare—it was because it’s
a young neighborhood full of universities, in case you wondered.
The band I’m
seeing online is definitely them but the sound is really different so come to
Seoul and see them for yourself.
[Seoul?] Going to see music in a foreign land mid-conference seemed like a
far-fetched goal but I’d made it! To the neighborhood at least… what a
neighborhood it was (Hongdae). Lights flashing up and down and left to right—different
music colliding at the intersection. Practically everyone walking the sidewalks
was dewy (under 25) … I was glad I was only visiting and not sleeping. After
getting lost for the 93rd time since arriving in Korea, I tracked
down dinner and then crossed the street in search of the mythical “Club FF,”
described by Lonely Planet as a “top live venue with up to eight local indie
bands playing at the weekend until midnight. Afterwards it becomes a dance club
with DJs.” Eight bands a night! Korean overachievement crosses many domains. The
entrance was was one wide expanse with an elfin man out front behind an
important imposing stand twice as tall as he. He was guarding the precious Club
FF against the onslaught of a crowd of … 1… me. He spoke more English than most
and swiftly crushed my dreams of a quick 7:30p show: “twenty-five dollars.”
Nope. I rarely pay that much for bands I know and like. Persistent in the face
of my hesitation, he whipped out a one-foot long skinny fan-folded pamphlet and
explained it was Live Club Day, a monthly event where your ticket gains you
admission to all the clubs in the area. This was good. This was real good. But
I had to be at ‘work’ (conference) the next day… but it was sort of a
SouthBy-miracle when it wasn’t even SXSW… and then the voices of all of the
friends & partners who have encouraged me over the years to be less of a
cheapskate pushed my hand to my wallet such that I found my wrist bound with a
paper-party-bracelet on a work night in a foreign land. Club FF was good. Dark,
disorienting. The walls covered in graffiti or stuff—I don’t know. 
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