Why We Crowdfunded

I had planned on making this a much longer post, but lucky for us all, last week something went ‘bump! in the right’ (hand), and now typing – together with getting dressed, cooking, washing dishes, and yes: playing guitar – has become a Herculean effort. Ever put on a bra with your non-dominant had? No? Me neither. It’s impossible.

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VH1 Behind the Music: Party Fears.

First off, thank you to everyone who’s contributed to our tour fund. We are so struck by how kind you all are, and still can’t believe we reached our goal inside two weeks. You’re incredible. There are far more worthy things you could have spent your money on, and we know that. So, thank you.

It felt a bit cheeky asking you to help support our tour given the aforementioned farmoreworthythings™. So I thought about it: after four years of playing, why did we start fundraising now?

Berlin: Poor but Sexy

So we don’t quite fit the Berlin MO. But what we lack in sexy, we more than make up in the poor. And why? As an indie act, it’s hard to make music pay in this town. In Seoul, when New Blue Death or BaekMa had a goal in mind that required dollah dollah bills, what did we do? In a Crystal Maze-esque scramble for cash, we played a silly amount of shows – sometimes for just W50,000 – to float our savings and achieve that goal. Here’s what our schedule looked like ramping up to recording in 2014.

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Practice on the left, shows on the right.

By comparison, in Berlin we played nine or so gigs in eight weeks and were ‘up’ after only two of them. Added to this is that most clubs do not have backlines and that means lots of taxis with gear. It’s a slower, harder slog; one we’re willing to do, but with a 33-year-old frontwoman whose body seems to be quite literally falling apart, it’s probably best we expedite the ol’ tour.

Official Funding

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There’s everyone’s favourite overlord, TRESemmé saying, ‘If you believe you’re a citizen of the world, you’re a citizen of nowhere.’ As far as funding bodies (and radio play for that matter) are concerned, she’s probably right. Much of the feedback we get is that we aren’t Irish enough, not quite local, not permanently based in Australia… Not of the somewhere that ordinarily might fund us. We apply, we do, but the feedback is generally the same: ‘Sorry, can we just check: only your X player is from Y? We’re afraid we can only support Y projects at this time.’ So when we book the likes of Women’s Work or get played on Across the Line or get a menchy by Nialler9 it’s so extraordinarily special. Even to careerist nomads like us, a bit of Terra Firma can be nice. Tayto at your fingertips included, of course.

So when we say your contribution to this fund means the world to us, we’re not joking. We’ll still be in the red; we expected to be. We’re doing what we love and naturally that takes sacrifice, but your kindness takes so much pressure off and for that we’re so very grateful. There’s a question mark over whether I can play or not, but knowing you crowd of glorious arses have our backs only makes me want to bring it more; guitar or no.

We still have a couple more days of the campaign left, so feel free to share. Maybe we can reach a K and get that house by the sea we always dreamed of.

Love,

Your poor butT sexy friends, Party Fears.

Post turned out to be quite long anyway >:-) 

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Android Experience

As of last week, I joined the ranks of thousands and began the search for work in Berlin. Why I left it so late to begin looking is another story.

In the myre of finding a job in a new city, it is at times hard to maintain a sense of purpose, of direction. Well not today, good people of Ballyblog!

After making it to interview for a content editing job and getting very positive vibes from the head of recruitment, I was finally told my application was not successful because I didn’t have enough ‘experience with Androids’.

They were absolutely correct regarding my level of expertise. Despite living in the Land of the Exploding Samsung for five years, I have been toting the same decrepit iPhone 4 since 2012. It has an impressively cracked screen, dies at about 20% charge and carries a distinctly spicy scent from when I made Kimchi Jjigae at my Aunt’s house and drunkenly emptied a 2lb jar of paprika into my bag.

So, while I understand and accept the company’s very polite and positive email telling me I was unsuccessful,  I still spent my day with ‘Android experience’ circling around my head like a character in a rejected episode of Black Mirror. 

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There’s more techno to Berlin than the music (wehey!), there are also hundreds of tech start-ups. They’re the companies who have job postings most frequently for English speakers and in content writing. So while I continue searching for any job high and low, it’s becoming very apparent that I have to seriously improve my computer literacy if I wish to have a résumé fit for the jobs I really want. Entre Coursera and a parade of YouTube tutorials on HTML, SEO, and YMCA. The nights are drawing in and it’s time to knuckle down on my new studies.

This is the winter of our hard-discontent.

…Then We Take Berlin

There’s definitely a sense of the missionary about the city; about people having upped sticks to do more of what they love or be more of who they are.

Before you ask, that’s not a picture of me. I haven’t dressed as smartly as that since 2011 when I was obliged to for work. That’s a picture of a nice lady waiting for an S-Bahn train. Or creepily watching one depart.

The ‘S’ in S-Bahn stands for ‘stanky’. Sometimes kids use it as slang. ‘Dude, those are some Stanky-Bahn Pokemons you caught!’

You’ll notice I’m talking about the S-Bahn with some authority. That’s because I live here now. And in case you’re wondering, as far as I’ve worked out the ‘U’ in U-Bahn stands for ‘Ughhhh’, but I gathered most of my data on a Sunday morning so that one’s up for debate.

It’s been a ride so far. I’ve only cried from feelings once since coming here. Most of the other times were from watching Season 4 of Orange is the New Black.

Since I’m still very new here in The Big Toke, I’ll attempt to distill my arrival and set-up into a trendy format known as a listicle.

My Top 3 ‘I’m Totally New Here!’ Experiences

#1 Let Me Fucking Live in your House

Getting established in Berlin is a lot like playing a game of Blind Man’s Buff, except the room is an indoor soccer stadium, the runaway opponents are mice, and you’re drunk.

In order to start work you must be registered, in order to get registered you need to be listed at an address, in order to get an address it’s desirable that you work. It’s an ouroboros of requirements that had me alternately running across the city looking at apartments and taking stress naps while I waited for the rejection emails to pile up.

Eventually, fortune smiled on me and I found a place in Wedding, which to many Berliners is the equivalent of saying you’ve moved to a bin on the moon. I like it though. It’s got trams and I get to live with a cat called Carlos.

sphynx-cat-in-leather*

*Not Carlos

#2 Party Fears is Go!

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In the world’s most irresponsible trust fall, former BaekMa drummer person, Eilis joined me in the Berlin Party Fears adventure.

While I ran around the city smiling like a maniac at potential landlords, Eilis got to work on finding us a practice room, advertising for a bassist and setting up our first show.

We were lucky enough to find Juan who is a young person with very white running shoes and big hair. He’s from Uruguay and did a beautifully executed backwards tumble down a grassy hill when a homeless person asked him for his beer bottle. His answer to our bassist ad went something like, ‘Hi! I don’t have a bass but I love all these bands! 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 :)’, and he proceeded to list what were by our estimation all the best bands ever.

He came for a jam and we invited him to join us that same day. We subsequently terminated our place at that very jam room near Treptower Park because I asked the  sweary, stone-washed jeans wearing, adult male manager to speak politely which caused him to go into meltdown and he exploded.*

We played our first show to a lovely cache of people who were kind enough to start a friendly mosh pit at the front. I pretended I was in The Wildhearts and tried not to shit myself at the responsibility of having so many young people’s skulls travel at high speed towards one another. The bathroom was totally S-Bahn but that was okay because  they let us use their amps and they were very, very friendly.

We have since bought our own amps which we will use as soon as we manage to force our way through the scene’s gluey membrane and book another show.

*figuratively

#3 Meeting People is Easy

It is very not. There are a few factors at play, the biggest being that for the first time in my nomadic life, I’ve moved to a totally unfamiliar city without a job already in place. Since I don’t have enforced hangout time via work, I have to wait for fate or my own ingenuity (lol) to smash myself into the temporal lobes of strangers. If I could print out friend CVs and shove them into people’s faces screaming, ‘Like me!’ I would.

Also, the city has a lot to live up to. I loved my community in Seoul. I loved it. I experienced more growth and self-discovery in Seoul than in any other environment. When I left I felt like a tooth that had been wrenched out of a perfectly healthy mouth.

So coming to Berlin where I start and finish most social interactions with ‘Uh…’ is jarring. And hard. Throw a trip to previous home-city Glasgow into the mix and Berlin seems positively tight-fisted.

Also, I am quietly terrified of meeting new people. Which surprises a lot of my friends, but shouldn’t. Here’s a picture of me at a party.

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So Berlin, it’s not your fault, but beGod if I don’t want to blame you.

Un-faked Optimism

Despite the travails of getting set up I genuinely like Berlin. It’s charming and relaxed and, unsurprisingly, very cool. I like the people I’ve met here. There’s definitely a sense of the missionary about the city; about people having upped sticks to do more of what they love or be more of who they are.

It’s hard to remember at times why I made the move, but then Party Fears practice and my little world makes sense again. Also, I’m eating seven kebabs a week on average. And that’s got to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s also Carlos the Cat. Who will love me despite literally all of his actions suggesting otherwise.

So yes, I’m optimistic. And as soon as I get a job I’ll be reasonably miserable again like most people, instead of occasionally rolling around on the floor full of kebab-fuelled ennui.