First up, introductions. My name’s Bex and I work for Method, and Method is a snowboard magazine. For any of you lucky enough to be at Snowbombing for the last 2 years you no doubt will have seen copies of our high-quality snowboard publication
littering the tables of various bars around Mayrhofen as you happily sup your Jager cocktail after a hard night before and an even harder day after, up on the hill.
I was asked by the organizers at Snowbombing to write a few blogs as the season draws ever closer to the day of days: the first day of Snowbombing 2009, so here goes. I was, luckily enough for me (and possibly unluckily enough for you- or the organizers for that matter) told that I could write about anything that I wished to. So I will (insert evil laugh here.)
Method loves Snowbombing- and not in a brown-nosing “oooh they’ve given me a blog” kind of way. It’s a genuine, all encompassing, sweaty-dance-floor-not-letting-go-pushing-the-boundaries-of-personal-space kind of love. I mean we LOVE it. This will be Method’s third year at Snowbombing, and we’ve got a lot of new staff this year and some very impressionable young interns that I can’t wait to slap a fake moustache on and thrust into the happy, heaving mass of party people in the Schlussel on a drum and bass night (again, insert evil laugh here.)
You see, living in Austria definitely has its advantages. I live close to the mountains, I can smoke inside, I get to play the dumb tourist whenever I get in trouble with the locals or the cops (which of course is very rarely) the haircuts around here are frankly hilarious and it’s perfectly acceptable- nay it’s encouraged, that you buy mini bottles of Jagermeister like you would sweets at the checkout in Supermarkets.
Despite all this though, living in Austria has one huge disadvantage: the music. I don’t mean to be dramatic about this, but an après-ski bar during any other week than Snowbombing blasts out the worst, ear-bleedingly bad, faith-in-all-that’s-good-and-pure variation of shit Euro techno you’ve ever had the misfortune to be subjected to. Fans of Scooter would run a mile (assuming there is such a thing- in fact if you play any Scooter track backwards you can clearly hear the words “Satan Is Lord” repeated over and over again.) Have you ever heard the Oom-pa-pa techno version of Robbie Williams’ “Angels”? I have, and people it’s bad. It’s really really bad. Anyway, I digress.
Living in Innsbruck, there is no killer line-up on Friday night at Fabric every week. There is no 6-hour Marky set at The End. There is only a dude with a mullet called “Helmut” (I have photo evidence of the poster) appearing live for your listening pleasure. So by the time Snowbombing arrives, team Method are a pack of slavering, snarling, drooling (admittedly not always intentionally- alcohol definitely plays a part) party people that just want to get down and shake their collective asses to some credible bands and DJ’s, side by side with the nicest people you’ll ever meet in a ski-resort (that’s you guys by the way.)
So in conclusion, let’s look to the ancient philosopher Socrates for a quote, that even today I think is relevant:
“Snowbombing is the tits! This year’s going to be better than ever!”
Spookily relevant I think you’ll agree.
-By Bex
Check Out Method Mag Online
