Carabao: more than a breakfast drink

I know this is not supposed to be a music blog, at least not THE world-music blog I have planned, not yet anyway, but well, Carabao is special. Though it may come as a surprise to recent Thai converts who only know them from their energy drink Carabao Daeng and their modern middling folk-and-roll music, in their heyday twenty years they were probably the best rock-and-roll band in the world, and would rank in the top ten all-time world-wide on my list. I'd almost forgotten them myself until my wife's 14-year-old son went bonkers over them a couple years ago, ignoring the dominant 'string' pop music and the emerging rap and hip-hop, and so I took another listen myself. Well, I liked them a lot ten years ago when I first came to Thailand, but now that I can understand the lyrics... my God! There's nothing like it! So they get a space here as part of the 'sometime ex-pat mostly-Thailand' section of my travel blog.

Not that there were any other foreigners at their show last night in Chiang Rai as far as I could see. Actually that wasn't too far, since mostly I was standing on a chair in the parking lot, too lazy to get tickets in advance, much less show up early, or even show up at all if if the traffic situation was too cluster-fornicated. My claustrophobia outweighs my loyalty. This was a free concert, you see, a Toyota promotion, but you still had to get tickets. By the time I got there the show had already started and the place was packed, and tickets long gone, so people were being turned away. So I followed the lead of others standing on chairs and tables and in pickup beds. The view wasn't bad actually. Finally someone took pity on me and handed me a ticket half-way through, as they were leaving, so that was cool. The other parking-lot viewers may have had another opinion.

Being a foreigner ('farang') has its privileges, I suppose, though I've often wondered exactly what they are. I've thought about it a lot. There's not the kind of racism in Thailand that's vicious, contemptuous or even conscious of itself, but it's still equally pernicious and tenacious. Mostly it's there in the background, poking fun or at worst insulting, all spoken in Thai, and frequently right in the target's face, as if to add insult to insult. The only way around this, of course, is to learn the freakin' language, and watch their faces turn red as you gently bounce the verbal offense back at them flowingly, slight for sleight. The best offense is a good defense. It'll pay off in the long run, I keep telling myself, and while I'm sure I wasn't the only Farang at the show, and may not have been the only Farang watching from the parking lot, there's good odds that I was the only Farang there who knows all the words to 'Beauty Queen in the Glass Cage', and even better odds I'm the only one to have adapted the lyrics to English ("because she's so poor, society won't stoop to bless, so she helps men relieve their stress; she props up the President's cabinets"). So much for self gratification.

But the music was great, as usual, though not always. Leader Aet's been known to sip some wine before show time, and rumor is that right-hand man and alternate vocalist Tierry's has had to help him remember the lyrics from time to time. That's OK. When you're the John Lennon or Bob Dylan or Bob Marley of you're country, you're entitled. Let's not forget John Lennon's 'lost weekend', nor the fact that these guys have played and toured constantly for twenty-five years to secure their retirements, while their counterparts in wealthier countries 'wake up and count their money', as Keith Richard tells it, and a healthy eight figures U$ at that, too. If it's sad to see them promote Toyota as part of the show, and even more so to lend their name and good auspices to an 'energy drink', that's only me imposing my righteous artist's perspective. They're not sad. They're having fun, and it all shows in the on-stage banter that is part of their trademark style, all with an informality that would disarm a Deadhead.

Carabao Daeng was at number three in energy drink sales in Thailand last I heard, so something's working right. Lead guitarist Lek even felt obliged to comment on the fact that Carabao is sometimes seen as having gone capitalist, since 'Songs for Life', the genre they put on the charts, was originally a form of protest music. After some sincere on-stage searching for the right words to best explain their (market) position, he finally let us all off the hook by deciding to 'let his guitar do the talking', and then proceeded to rip into an inspired version of 'Khon Nung Nieo' ('thick-skinned SOB') about lay-off day at the factory ('I've still got two arms; I've still got two legs') that would've made Springsteen cry. When they finally close with 'Bua Loy', you don't know whether to weep or wail, smile or scream, but you know you're alive, and you may or may not get to sleep that night. The magic is still there. It'll keep you warm on a cool late November Chiang Rai night.

I don't mean to sound like a dinosaur or anything, but hip-hop leaves me cold, though I appreciate its socio-political undercurrents, if not its misogynist overtones. It's just not music; it's prose. A few lyrical geniuses like Aet Carabao notwithstanding, music is mostly about the music. I stayed on the English-language cutting edge of music from the 60's to the 90's, from Dylan through Patti Smith to Nirvana, but now I diverge, preferring the likes of Dengue Fever, Mana', and Tinariwen (Timbuktu anyone?), all from other places and races. If you want to know about the Bangkok hip-hop scene, Thaitanium and assorted DJ's, then read Matt the 'Lost Boy'. He does a good job. If you want to hear about Carabao and 'Songs for Life' and up-country Thailand close to the Golden Triangle, then talk to me. I'll be here.