Splash, Splash, Splash. There's an entomological carnage on the windshield. Just past Ramstein (Note: one 'M', the German branch of the Laibach fanclub probably never won a spelling contest) we drive into a cloud of insects of Old Testamentarian dimensions. The cloud that is, not the insects. Was this an omen? What would await us? A plague? Armageddon? The End of time? Didn't today's Südkurier speak of "Endzeitstimmung" ('Endtime' mood) in the caption next to D.E.E.'s picture? It turned out we were going back in time, forwards to the oldest city in Germany. But in an Opel, not in a Delorean.

The venue was still deserted when we got there, 30 minutes before the show was scheduled to start at 8 o'clock. Which meant that most of the show would be in broad(ish) daylight. Why start so early? Was there a curfew? Brad Pitt's character in "True Romance" sold us our tickets. He had quite a few problems figuring out how much two times 29 DM was. But eventually he cracked the combination. The tickets we're numbered 14 and 15. Add a handful Exzellenzhaus-staffmembers and that was the sum of people we saw as we entered the gate and walked out into a big schoolyard. So, this was the Sommerbühne (summer-stage)? With the actual stage on the far end, right next to some trees and with the green banks of the Moselle river in the background. Surrounded on three sides by the building of the Exzellenshaus (the soft pink walls graffiti-clad, a crooked roof that looked like it would collapse if someone dared to creep cross them shingles) and the subdued yellow of a child daycare centre (a graffiti-free zone) complete with swings. And a barbecue too. All in all, a surreal surrounding. And one that made you feel almost sorry for the band. Vicarious shame. How many people would show up on this lovely summer's evening? What if it had rained?

When the band walked and crutched through the gate some time later the sight must have been enough for their collective hearts to sink into their collective boots (and bandages). They walked to the daycare centre, which served as the backstage-area. Jean-Yves Tola again in the mother goose role. Pascal Humbert behind him. With two crutches this time. Trying to keep up with mama. Who didn't look over 'her' shoulder to see how 'her' offspring was managing. There were some 100 people by now (when there was room for nearly 10 times that amount). Two of which had already taken their places right in front of the stage. As if afraid someone would invade that spot. They had plenty of 'Lebensraum'. The nearest neighbours were at least 10 meters away.

When the band finally walked on stage after playing with stilts in the daycare centre, they were greeted with absolutely no applause whatsoever, even though Pascal waved friendly. No need to thank them for clapping just yet. D.E.E. did so - out of habit - after Praying Arm Lane but his heart wasn't in it. Probably still in his white shoes. But the situation must have bugged them, goaded them. Perhaps that why the next song, Sac Of Religion, sounded so grim, fierce and therefore formidable. Or perhaps they were really giving it their best shot. "It's not their fault that other people didn't show up, we should do our best for these 150 or 200 people". The start of Wayfaring Stranger was semi a cappella because the banjo fell away every now and then. D.E.E. just played on as if nothing happened, even though it sounded very hicuppy. Not even an angry glance at the mixer. Perhaps he just wanted it to finish as soon as possible. Perhaps he was in a very forgiving mood. I am inclined to think it was the latter. The band seemed very determinated to prove the stayawayers wrong.

And the next two songs - bandoneon time! - did that job. These days Wayfaring Stranger flows seamlessly into Harm's Way. But tonight, just before Harm's Way was about to burst out there was an interruption, an awkward silence, no applause. But when it did re-start, it sounded very powerful, the whole band did. D.E.E. must have been pleased too. A Thank You from him, then he started speaking in tongues and we got a glorious version of American Wheeze. Resulting in the first hollers, whoops and other cries from the audience. The first time the audience didn't just applaud out of politeness. 16hp was winning them over. Unfortunately they then played Burning Bush, not a personal favourite ;-) But the rest of the regular set made (more than) up for that.

At this point the band were enjoying themselves too. Pascal pulling his 'jazz-musician-in-extremely-difficult-and-demanding-session' faces, Jean-Yves smiling, Steve Taylor more confident than ever before and D.E.E. singing "when this is all over we all go home and laugh" during Clogger. Something funny did indeed happen after Clogger. It's a silly rock and roll cliché that a horizontal line on the setlist means that it's time to leave the stage, wait in the wings for some time (or go to the toilet), then return to the stage and continue to play the songs you were going to play anyway. In Friedrichshafen Pascal had left the stage too. But this time he remained seated, he preferred the comfort of his stool to a cross-stage hike. Steve must have felt sorry for Pascal because he was back in a matter of seconds. We were reassured that the others would be back too. They were, but it took somewhat longer. The next day in the Altstadt in Trier we saw someone juggling a football with his crutches. That might be something for Pascal to amuse himself, and the crowd, with as he, and we, have to wait for the concert to resume.

After Black Soul Choir the complete band left the stage. And Morphine's "Souvenir" was played over the P.A. Mark Sandman sang about dropping dead. This usually is a cue for the audience to stop applauding. Get another drink or get your coat. This audience didn't surrender so easily. They persevered and kept clapping for minutes. And this time the band, who had walked over to the daycare centre (they didn't after Clogger), did come back. D.E.E. jokingly asked if we had all showed up just now. And we were treated to a rousing rendition of For Heaven's Sake. That military march rhythm really struck a chord. Not implying anything ;-). When D.E.E. thanked us again after that song it was really over.

A joyous feeling remained for a long time. it was a wonderfully absurd and relaxed evening. Almost like having 16hp playing in your living room, or backyard (it was an open air concert after all). Or during a highschool- or keg-party. No need to buy tickets 6 weeks in advance (like in The Netherlands. Otherwise you run the risk it is sold out). Plus the band really have to prove themselves. They're not preaching to the converted (in a musical way) yet.
This is what it must have been like to see 16hp when they first started out.

By Martin