Simon Lewis: Comrade Hack

Went to a rifle range. I fired a 357 revolver and a 22 rifle with a telescopic sight. Shooting is addictive – the bang, the kick, the smell of cordite, the wisp of smoke, and the satisfactory clunk, familiar from so many films, of slamming home the bolt.

But I noted with disquiet that a lust descended to fire larger ammunition at more challenging targets – rabbits, enemies, presidents. The telescopic sight seemed to make the whole thing too easy, unsporting even. Now if they’d just drive a motorcade past…

Whereas archery (at a separate range that is also, dangerously, a bar) was much more calming, and I was quite happy to keep plugging away at the yellow circle. And at a quid for a quiver of arrows you could do it all afternoon and it wouldn’t cost much.

This is all stuff to put in the book – a section called ‘what to do in Shanghai if you’re bored of looking at things, eating and shopping’. So far I’ve got tango, learning magic, the above mentioned archery and shooting, karaoke, tandem cycling round Century Park and miniature golf. I’m not saying it doesn’t need work.

Something else I will write about is the rock scene, which I know a little bit about thanks to Y. She is a news photographer, supposedly, but she seems to spend most of her time following the band JOYSIDE around. She is going out with the drummer. With fingernails painted black and a choppy fringe and wearing Converse (the internationally recognised footwear of indiebandness) she is not very Shanghai. Indeed, her favourite topic of conversation is how much she would prefer to be in Bejing, which has a proper rock scene.

This takes me back – I’ve been to some great gigs in Beijing. The singer of Cold Blooded Animal stripped on stage. The guitarist of Brain Failure had a fight with someone in the audience. At another gig I went to the drummer’s face was black and blue – he had just got out of jail for fighting a policeman. A guitarist I met was put away for a year for taking heroin. He said it wasn’t so bad because they let him take his guitar into prison and playing it made him popular with the guards. So, the Chinese rock scene – it’s real, it’s a bit edgy, anyway it’s not Andy Lau or SHE.

I went with Y to see Joyside. The venue was proper – hard to find, covered in graffiti, dark, sweaty, smokey, with no ventilation or fire escape, no toilets – you had to piss in the alley – and obviously no license – a handwritten cardboard sign told you a can of beer was 10yuan and some girl handed you a tinny from a stack. (they have a website though).

I would love to be able to write about how the rock scene is quite like at home but differs in this or that finely observed respect – but it doesn’t; it really is exactly the same – piercings, tattoos, black leather, floppy fringes; the aforementioned black fingernails and Converse; crowd surfing, mosh pits, all that. Even the band names; I heard about a group called ‘China Subs’ who sound like UK Subs but sing in Chinese.

Joyside’s singer models himself on Mick Jagger and does a good job of being professionally thin and pouty. The Chinese do a good job of looking the part when they take up rock; they have a genetic advantage when it comes to being skinny, pale and dramatic.

Their songs were ok and the crowd loved it, though the fact that I was looking round thinking, this it’s all very well but where are the fire exits? probably indicates that I’m too old for it.

Afterwards Y was hanging out with the band, which she seemed to do a lot. I asked her what they did. She said every day is the same – get up late, practise, hang out with girls and do drugs – the schedule of any self respecting rock band. It sounded cool for them but I couldn’t help thinking it was a bit demoralising for her. No wonder her nails are so immaculately done, she doesn’t have anything else to do. I told her she ought to be documenting them, taking loads of pictures, but she said no, someone else is doing that. She’s taking me to another gig tomorrow; maybe I’ll suggest she take up painting black watercolours or knitting skulls or something.