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In foreign countries you're often likely to experience a weird sense of timewarp: Movies that premiered months or years back in your own country are only just now coming out, the biggist artists will be someone you never heard of - who the fuck is that Bebe that is everywhere, and is it a boy or a girl? - bars will play weird pop music you didn't know you remembered (Reel2Reel's "I Like to Move It", anyone? Or "It Must Have Been Love" by Roxette?), and in the underground people will be raving about bands you thought dead with your teenage years. Ratos de Porão, the Brazilian hardcore band that tagged along on Sepultura's rise in the very early 90's still play fairly regurlarly in Madrid and release their records on the local Beat Generation label, complete with Spanish translations and cover notes. Stroll down the outdoor market El Rastro in Madrid on a Sunday - a bit like London's Camden; "a good place to have your wallet stolen", according to Munster Records' Iñigo - and you'll come across stands vending patches with Stryper, OverKill, Krokus, and Venom; browse through a punk distribution's stall at shows and you'll find collector's item 7"s with Rövsvett, General Surgery, and other Swedish crust bands I used to get demo tapes from in '91, and in the hallway someone will hand you a flyer for a festival this January with Dismember, Repulsion, Pungent Stench, Macabre, Extreme Noise Terror playing - no Norwegian Black Metal, this is truly underground and that one year older-school. You have the Up Beat! record store with ska, northern soul, and scooter parafernalia. You have a well-assorted vinyl hiphop-store in a mall. You have the Malasaña neighbourhood packed with punkrock bars and punks drinking in the street from the obligatory 1-liter beer bottles. You have dozens and dozens of labels working in the underground and even more bands. Over the next year, at least, LowCut will be covering corners of
this weird, Jon Albjerg Ravnholt or write: jon@lowcut.dk
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Our
Man in Madrid 
