Yesterday, I posted a review by my friend, Michael - a late 20’s Tianjin native who takes his guitar and amp to his factory job so he can play in his lunch break.

Four years ago, I went back to Australia for some fucking reason and Michael asked if I could buy him the Between The Buried and Me album, ‘Colours’. I did, brought it back for him and then he and his friend, O'Dollgy (yup, that’s his name) spent three years meticulously re-creating that album. Seriously. Just two guys. O'Dollgy programmed the drums and did some singing, Michael did the guitar and vocals and it sounds fucking amazing. The amount of love and care and thought that went in to it is pretty astounding. You can listen to it here.



I think it’s a really sweet gesture to an album that they both love so much.

Michael is constantly writing his own music as well and it’s only a matter of time until he finds the right musicians and starts really kicking arse.



When I first moved to China, I went to a guitar store in Tianjin recommended to me by a guy in a Filipino cover band. I went in and tried out a whole bunch of different guitars until I found one I liked. Pretty sure it was the cheapest one there. Michael was the guy who had to keep getting the guitars off the wall, plug it in, listen to me play and then take it back and repeat the process. But we became good friends and he invited me to a studio to play drums with him and his friend, John.

We formed a band and would practice almost every Monday, doing the occasional show at 13 Club.

One night, we were rehearsing at a closed 13 Club because Michael was good friends with the manager. So it was just us and him there. Then he got a phone call, stood up and said 'Just got a call from my boss, some of his mafia buddies are coming here to drink’. By the time he finished that sentence, the door is kicked open and a fucking whirlwind of flatheads, beer bellies and scrawny girls in tight dresses come in screaming and totes rowdy.

The guys are out of control. They walk straight behind the bar, pour beers over their heads, scull baijiu and smash some glasses. Two of them storm the stage. One stands right next to me with glazed eyes looking fucking angry and the other one goes up to Michael and says 'play Metallica!’. Michael looks at me and John, kinda shrugs and starts playing 'Master Of Puppets’, one of the mafia guys screams 'faster!!!’ and so Michael speeds up and we start playing Metallica for them. They seemed pleased by this and started moshing on stage until one guy vomited, one man took a woman in to the bathroom and when they came out, she slapped him across the face and then they staggered out leaving a pile of broken glass.

All in all, they were only there for 15 minutes.



