Casa Ambiente, lennard writes today af his blog , and it reminds me of a conversation I had with him over the phone only some weeks ago.
Lennard had been helping me doing the graphic styling of a magazine I and a few others tried to launch, called GNOM. It was spring 1994, the heydays of the Copenhagen ravescene. In an attempt to rise money for issue number two, we rented an old factory in a old abonded industrial area of the harbour, now the home of a gigantic shoppingmall and superexclusive aprtment.
It wasn’t so much the party as the aftermath. The party was super liveperformances, great dj`s, art and videoinstallations, drugs, girls, beers, and cool drinks and apparently cool people, it was however as I remember it one the last real raves I attended.
The night whipped up violence, cops, and I had to race out to a 24-7 dentist to have a fucked up tooth pulled out, and when it ended around five in the morning with the sunset. There was tons of bills to pay, and I in a feeble attempt to keep my head hadn’t been doing drugs or drinking. And a good thing it was. Half an hour after the party ended the owner of the factory, stood fresh and newly shaved and wanted his pay. Which he had, but it was also at that moment that I discovered, that at least 7000 kroner was missing from the register. Money that had been there just hours ago. It was impossible to get any straight answers and my only hope to pay just a small part of the bills was to fill the rental cars with the cases of empty bottles, and go from supermarket to supermarket to cash in the refund which wasn’t a lot, but enough though to keep certain people of my back. So after having cruised Copenhagen from 6 in the morning till about one in the afternoon taking back soundequipment, lights, decks and what not, I finally came back to the factory with an empty truck, totally flatlined.
People lay scattered allover asleep in the beaming sun. One guy, had fallen asleep with his hand in a butter-packet, mumbling “mmm, pussy”, having been laid for the first time in months.
In the center of the yard though, sat the one I was very suspicious about having ripped the money with his score of the night, the two of them dressed up top to toe in technogear and e-grilled beyond belief. What should have been his helping out the party, was now just, nothing.
I approached them with a not very satisfied look at my face, and they met me with this comment:”Hey man, look at us, aren’t we just like the most beautiful people in the world…?”