by RAF KATIGBAK

It’s 5 p.m. here in Rome. Don’t ask how I got here. Let’s just say it involved a sweltering eight-hour bus ride to New York City next to a disgruntled former high school principal, a mad dash to JFK and another eight-hour passage to Frankfurt next to a 16-year-old Anglo-Pakistani Ali G wannabe with ADD who’s opening salvo of questions included whether or not I knew Bruce Lee (“Well, I guess because I’m Asian I know of him, but I don’t know him personally, seeing as he’s dead and all…”) and whether there were “thick girls” where I came from. By “thick” I am assuming he meant good-looking and not stupid or obese.

Why exactly am I here? Well, dear readers, in the interest of furthering Disko Akimbo’s commitment to Montreal’s thriving club culture, I have arrived as a cultural ambassador. I have come to one of the world’s most ancient cities to explore their rich heritage of bacchanalian feasts and revelry, to expound on the virtues of our humble city’s cutting-edge music scene, and to hold court, gather the masses and proselytize for the Montreal way of life. Also, my sister who lives here just had a baby and it’s soooooo cute!

I’d like nothing more than to enrapture you with tales of late-night rambles along the Campo de’ Fiori or the Piazza di Spagna, drunk on cheap Chianti, or how a clandestine tryst ended in a romantic sunrise dip in the Fontana di Trevi. But the truth is, I’ve spent most of my time sleeping off jet lag and watching the first season of Kids in the Hall on DVD. Man, that was a funny show.

To be completely honest, in terms of nightlife, Rome can best be described as, well, “Meh.” Rome is an ancient city, with the emphasis on old. It’s a clusterfuck of winding streets, larger-than-life monuments and tourists with giant phallic cameras. As a result, youth culture here is not as prevalent as it is in, say, Barcelona, and the rather conservative clubs tend to suffer as a result. Next stop: Berlin, another story. I hear that bars never close and that alcohol runs like rivers down the streets. I also hear that every Friday, there’s a Pink Floyd laser light show at the planetarium where German metalheads gather to get stoned together every week. Sound like paradise? It just might be.

Speaking of frighteningly dressed people getting together, this weekend is All Hallow’s Eve and Montreal nightlife will be brimming like a garbage bag full of those crappy cheap pumpkin toffees. Disko’s personal pics for the weekend include: Friday night’s Neon party with DJ T, Plastique de Rêve and the Jordan Dare/Sean Kosa collab Cut Throat Republic live; Saturday, at 1 p.m., it’s the spooky Picnik Electronik with Mighty Kat and Luc Raymond at the Parc Jean-Drapeau, then a chance to live the dream with Yourockeeokee’s live-band karaoke at the Main Hall. And finally Sunday, over at Parking, you’ve got my man Derrick Carter closing out the weekend with what’s sure to be another incendiary house set.

HASTA LA PASTA! Diskoakimbo@sympatico.ca

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