Aachen sits on the border of Germany, the Netherlands, and Belgium. We were playing at Hauptquartier, a small bar in the center of town. Upon entering the bar, we immediately felt the positive vibes. The space was small, but lavishly and meticulously decorated in golds and yellows. Dieder, the owner, told us that the same artist has been decorating Hauptquartier for years, and that he redoes the decor every six months or so. Dieder — tall, gaunt, with an easy and open nature — helped us tremendously, finding us the extra cords and plugs we needed that had been packed in our missing luggage.

guitarpicks.JPGFreddy had dug up an old Mexican Squire guitar out of his attic. The nut was broken and the low E-sting was almost unplayable, but it would have to do. Also, Freddy didn’t have straps for the guitar or the bass. Ed, ever resourceful, fashioned guitar straps out of duct tape. My guitar picks had also been packed in with my guitar, and so I cut some new ones out of Cez-One’s old Costco card — my favorite being the one that had his corny mug on it!ducttape.JPG

After sound- checking Dieder invited us out to eat at his favorite Thai restaurant, which was shockingly delicious. We had great conversation and lost track of the time. It was getting late so we headed back to get the music started. Our set went great. There must have been only twenty or so people, but the space was so small and intimate, the sound so warm, that the old Fosforo fire managed to spark and flame. People of all ages, danced and swayed enthusiastically as we played for more than two hours, pulling out songs that we had not played in a long time. I saw one older man in the crowd sitting, swaying, concentrating on what looked like a heavy, ponderous book of German philosophy.

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