London Fields # 43
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 5 September 2007
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
There have been many changes to the live scene in London over the years, but one of the largest occurred in the past month. The Mean Fiddler Group sold virtually all its remaining venues, and even its name, to Mama, the company behind the Barfly group of venues. They had already sold The Forum (formerly The Town & Country Club) to them, and the latest package added The Borderline, Camden’s Jazz Café, the original Mean Fiddler in Harlesden and The Garage at Highbury. This seems good news, especially as both Harlesden and The Garage have been closed for some time, but staff I spoke to were uncertain of their futures. Reports say that Mama is also in talks to grab the Academy venues, which if successful would mean a virtual monopoly on larger venues in the capital.
Personally, I prefer the smaller places, especially the award winning The Luminaire in Kilburn. A full house is 275, and that includes bands, staff and guest list. All around the venue are signs telling you to shut up during performances, or leave. Wonderfully nearly everyone respects it. Seeing Mark Eitzel previewing the work-in-progress material for the next American Music Club LP with only an acoustic guitar was special indeed – even bar orders were whispered, and tills closed quietly.
Things were a little different as I ventured deep in the deepest heart of the East End to catch Evi Vine. The venue turned out to be a squatted community centre. It was like the days of illegal raves - folks were smoking inside; the bar was a bloke with a household fridge, and the toilets had been cleaned sometime last year. Yet it was alive and vibrant and filled with a desire to take music back to the people (except for the high door charge and beer prices). I left about 1am, but the bands played on for several hours afterwards.
I also spent a splendid afternoon at one of the summer Sunday barbecues held at The Windmill in Brixton. While not the best place to see bands, the afternoon was great value for money and tremendous fun. Witter were having fun (as were we), as they did a set entirely of BritPop covers - from Popscene to Common People, from Menswe@r to Suede. Later in the day came The Victorian English Gentlemens Club, the karaoke pop of Tim Ten Yen, and the day ended with Hot Puppies, whose vocalist is a modern Martha Davis, and whose joie de vivre was infectious.
Which was a marked contrast to the inaugural Field Day in Victoria Park in Hackney. Two understaffed bars could not cope with the needs of 10 000 punters, and after queuing over an hour for a beer, you then had a 30 minute wait for a loo. The large number of bands playing meant that each was restricted to a mere thirty minutes. Worst of all were the sound restrictions, which saw Archie Bronson Outfit shut down before even finishing their allotted time. The only acts to survive this environment were the Archies, an incendiary finish from Liars and Kid Harpoon, who has added a band to create Pogues-style mayhem. The day was a great idea, but a mess in reality.
The ramifications of the smoking ban are still being felt. At The Barfly in Camden, outside smokers became rowdy and aggressive as a fire escape door remained closed, meaning they had to walk 20 metres to get back in. Club nights at Koko (the former Camden Palace) have taken things to further extremes. In order to pop outside for a ciggie, smokers are first electronically fingerprinted. They then have 7 minutes to be back inside, supposedly to stop them grabbing a drink elsewhere while they’re out. With the drink prices at Koko, I’m not surprised that this time limit incentive is needed.
But if you think that’s an invasion of civil liberties, it’s lucky you weren’t at one of the V Festival in Staffordshire last month. Like something out of John Carpenter’s They Live, police employed a spy saucer which even at a height of 100 metres is invisible to the human eye. Originally designed for military use, this drone was equipped with high-resolution cameras and infrared capability, but for now not actually used over the main arena, for fears of injury should it crash into the crowd. And you thought zipline cameras were a nuisance…
Last month I wrote about the return of the ‘70’s with Palladium. Better by far are Pirate Casino – imagine Paul Weller covering Bob Seger‘s Nightmoves and you’ll get an idea. Here guitar solos are shameless – and the band is seamlessly professional. While not my scene, I can see them going far – look what pastiche did for Jet and The Darkness! But most interesting is that these ‘70’s-inflenced acts are bringing something truly wonderful to London’s Indie scene – some racial diversity. Usually the exclusive preserve of white middle class kids, both Palladium and Pirate Casino are attracting a black audience to the white enclave. And that can only be a good thing.
© James McGalliard 2007
Showing posts with label Field Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Field Day. Show all posts
Wednesday, 5 September 2007
Wednesday, 13 June 2007
Sorted
London Fields # 40
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 13 June 2007
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
I remember my first Glastonbury Festival. It wasn’t planned - I only bought a ticket a few days before. We heard the world premiere of the new Stone Roses single One Love on Radio 1 while driving down from London, and then hit the four hour bumper-to-bumper crawl to get onto site. As night fell I was separated from my friends, and then the rain began to fall. I spent that evening sheltering inside my sleeping bag, cocooned within two black bin liners. When I caught up with my mates the next day, it turned out the ‘tent’ that they had for me had no floor and a ‘Cowboys and Indians’ motif on the side. Luckily it didn’t rain again. Those were amongst the most enjoyable days of my life.
Of course, Glasto now sells out in a matter of hours, and it’s a lot bigger than Pulp’s twenty thousand people standing in a field - this year 175 000 people are expected for that weekend at end of this month. Watching the TV coverage of the 2005 event, it seems our former camping pitch has become part of the crowd area - video screens allow a much bigger audience to feel they’re part of the event. You’ve got to admire the Eavis family for keeping it all together, but the real joy of Glasto was the community spirit. And when things get so large, it’s hard to keep that intact.But there are still smaller gems to be found.
The end of April found me at the Dirty Three curated All Tomorrow’s Parties event at Butlins holiday camp in Minehead. It was a surreal experience, holiday ‘chalets’ from a Carry On film, a real mix of people, a proliferation of beards, and best of all, no aggro. The audience ATP attracts is there for the music, not to be a prick.
Then earlier this month I was in Barcelona for Primavera Sound, which was easily the most trouble-free and organised event of this kind I’ve ever attended. Sure there were minor quibbles – the queues to buy vouchers to exchange for drinks, the late nights [bands coming on at 5 in the morning catches up with you by the third day], and the sound spill onto the Rockdelux stage [at one point so loud that it stopped Warren Ellis midsentence]. But although there were no outstanding highlights, it never felt overcrowded (except during The Smashing Pumpkins), and (like ATP) it was great few days with nice people and good music.
This month marks 18 years since I left Melbourne, and three years of writing this column. And following some recent discussions with readers, artists and promoters, I think it’s important that I make this point: I’m a punter! Nearly everything you read about here has been paid for; I’m a long way from the ligger’s list {which is a shame, as all the press bods at Primavera enjoyed free local brew in their own enclosure for all three days}. So I write about what interests me, and what I spend my money on – so it is from a limited perspective.
But perhaps you too get annoyed at exorbitant booking fees for gig tickets, or idiots who talk all the way through gigs, or folks who block your view by taking crappy pics on their phone every 20 seconds. That’s why big gigs are out - no V Festival or Reading, and although I enjoyed it last year, I’ll even be giving the smaller Get Loaded In The Park a miss. However, in July I’ll be heading to a farm in Oxfordshire for the relatively small Truck Festival (which has sold out before the line-up has been announced). And I’ll be descending with 5000 others on Hackney’s Victoria Park one Saturday in August for the inaugural Field Day, which aims to create a village fete atmosphere in the heart of the East End (and it has a great roster of bands over four stages).
Maybe if things keep getting too big, people will revolt and make their own way. Whispers are making even the mainstream press of free parties in the English countryside. Forget nu-rave – could 2007 turn out to be the third summer of love?
© James McGalliard 2007
First published Inpress, Melbourne on 13 June 2007
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
I remember my first Glastonbury Festival. It wasn’t planned - I only bought a ticket a few days before. We heard the world premiere of the new Stone Roses single One Love on Radio 1 while driving down from London, and then hit the four hour bumper-to-bumper crawl to get onto site. As night fell I was separated from my friends, and then the rain began to fall. I spent that evening sheltering inside my sleeping bag, cocooned within two black bin liners. When I caught up with my mates the next day, it turned out the ‘tent’ that they had for me had no floor and a ‘Cowboys and Indians’ motif on the side. Luckily it didn’t rain again. Those were amongst the most enjoyable days of my life.
Of course, Glasto now sells out in a matter of hours, and it’s a lot bigger than Pulp’s twenty thousand people standing in a field - this year 175 000 people are expected for that weekend at end of this month. Watching the TV coverage of the 2005 event, it seems our former camping pitch has become part of the crowd area - video screens allow a much bigger audience to feel they’re part of the event. You’ve got to admire the Eavis family for keeping it all together, but the real joy of Glasto was the community spirit. And when things get so large, it’s hard to keep that intact.But there are still smaller gems to be found.
The end of April found me at the Dirty Three curated All Tomorrow’s Parties event at Butlins holiday camp in Minehead. It was a surreal experience, holiday ‘chalets’ from a Carry On film, a real mix of people, a proliferation of beards, and best of all, no aggro. The audience ATP attracts is there for the music, not to be a prick.
Then earlier this month I was in Barcelona for Primavera Sound, which was easily the most trouble-free and organised event of this kind I’ve ever attended. Sure there were minor quibbles – the queues to buy vouchers to exchange for drinks, the late nights [bands coming on at 5 in the morning catches up with you by the third day], and the sound spill onto the Rockdelux stage [at one point so loud that it stopped Warren Ellis midsentence]. But although there were no outstanding highlights, it never felt overcrowded (except during The Smashing Pumpkins), and (like ATP) it was great few days with nice people and good music.
This month marks 18 years since I left Melbourne, and three years of writing this column. And following some recent discussions with readers, artists and promoters, I think it’s important that I make this point: I’m a punter! Nearly everything you read about here has been paid for; I’m a long way from the ligger’s list {which is a shame, as all the press bods at Primavera enjoyed free local brew in their own enclosure for all three days}. So I write about what interests me, and what I spend my money on – so it is from a limited perspective.
But perhaps you too get annoyed at exorbitant booking fees for gig tickets, or idiots who talk all the way through gigs, or folks who block your view by taking crappy pics on their phone every 20 seconds. That’s why big gigs are out - no V Festival or Reading, and although I enjoyed it last year, I’ll even be giving the smaller Get Loaded In The Park a miss. However, in July I’ll be heading to a farm in Oxfordshire for the relatively small Truck Festival (which has sold out before the line-up has been announced). And I’ll be descending with 5000 others on Hackney’s Victoria Park one Saturday in August for the inaugural Field Day, which aims to create a village fete atmosphere in the heart of the East End (and it has a great roster of bands over four stages).
Maybe if things keep getting too big, people will revolt and make their own way. Whispers are making even the mainstream press of free parties in the English countryside. Forget nu-rave – could 2007 turn out to be the third summer of love?
© James McGalliard 2007
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