Woofah 4 coming soon…
camp bestival 2009
Annual family outing: kids, tents, music, merriment. Followed by more camping elsewhere, but more of that later.
I’ve long since got over my trainspottery “tick list” tendencies at these things. Even when I only went to festivals with my peers there were always clashes, lethargy and hangovers to deal with. Going with a bunch of mates and our various kids intensifies that further – no point feeling aggrieved that you have missed a big name because some craft activity or impromptu cartwheel lesson has intervened.
So festivals end up being a bit more about relaxing, wandering about, bumping into random people and music. Which is better anyway. In fact I’ve already forgotten great swathes of the weekend (1o days ago now), so don’t expect any great objective blow by blow account here!
Whilst I agree with History is made at night’s comments on the commercial festival boom I would never really have been up for imposing something like Stonehenge Free Festival on children. I’ll take corporate sponsorship over hells angels, drug hoovers, and police brutality any day. They can discover all of that for themselves when they get older, ha ha.
Friday:
Mercury Rev were predictably tedious “stadium” whinery. So me and the daughter ambled over to the dance tent to check out a bit of Tinchy Stryder. I kind of expected the place to be half full of people not getting it. How wrong can you be? The tent was a rammed sweaty mess of teenagers shouting out at ever single one of Tinch’s call and response rhymes. I felt really great on his behalf.
So we had a look, but this was not the place for a forty year old bloke or his seven year old daughter “is that the real Tinchy Stryder? I just saw him take his top off…”. Tinch and N-Dubz are on “Now That’s What I Call Music 73” which had been our in-car listening on the way down. Chipmunk is on there as well. Big look for the scene, yadda yadda yadda.
Florence and the Machine were alright if you like Kate Bush (which I do). Kid Creole and the Coconuts gave it some but should have done the big hits earlier in his set – we headed back to the tents and missed half of it. Full marks for wearing a big white sheet and a purple Zoot Suit respectively.
Saturday:
The day commenced with a bunch of us watching bonkers kids telly prog “Yo Gabba Gabba” on a huge screen in the open air. The Ting Tings were on it covering Altered Images’ “Happy Birthday”. Later on I feel asleep with a beer listening to Goldie Looking Chain while more responsible and co-ordinated people helped the kids to make some furry animal paw gloves.
Some of our posse have a penchant for victoriana so we headed for the cockney knees up for a singalong. They took the piss our of PJ Harvey (who was doing a much vaunted solo set which I couldn’t be arsed with) and did a music hall version of “Anarchy in the UK”.
Sunday:
Horace Andy was late. Which was a pisser because he was the main thing I was looking forward to. Recognising this, the assembled posse had taken pity on me and settled in front of the main stage on Sunday afternoon. It looked like rain. Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip were pushed up the timetable and were pretty good – they did that “Crass… are just a band” tune and took the piss a bit: “This is supposed to be Horace Andy’s slot, so if we swear does that mean he’ll get in trouble?”.
And then after a short break, Mr Andy showed. He was cross. The first thing he did when got onstage was have a go at the organisers for not having an MC to introduce him. He reckoned that was disrespectful. Maybe it is – he is a complete legend after all. Maybe showing up an hour late is disrespectful as well.
It was still good to seem him though – The Dub Asante Band backing him were pretty great (insert usual caveat about not having a horn section here). He did “Skywalking” and “Quiet Place/Man Next Door” and sounded great, but you did get the impression he was phoning it all in a little bit.
I was warming to it all, despite being stuck behind a twat in one of those novelty tams with the fake dreadlocks stuck on to the back of them. But then Mr Andy fucked off after four songs, without ever really engaging with the audience. I ticked him off my list. It started raining properly, so a large beer tent in the kids’ field beckoned.
Candi Staton was the best act of the weekend for me by a country mile – great performance, great banter, everybody smiling and dancing. Properly life-affirming business.
Nile Rodgers and Chic were a bit “end of the pier” for me but still a great laugh.
Keeping Hackney Crap
Mark Pawson has a t-shirt sale on!
He also sent me a small supply of these badges, which have caused much merriment amongst my friends from the ends.
“Keep Hackney Crap” will seem like an odd slogan to people outside of the borough, but to insiders it recalls some comments from our False Mayor, Jules Pipe.
False Mayor? Well, Jules is the official elected Mayor of Hackney, yes. But in Stoke Newington we have our own unofficial mayor, in the shape of a completely excellent geezer who wanders about looking snazzy wearing a chain of office of some description. Needless to say, most people I have raised this with have decided that they prefer the unofficial mayor.
Not least because of Jules’ very “new labour” tendency to harp on about how everything which involves big business and gentrification is brilliant and what everyone wants.
Jules Pipe
Michael Rosen
Last year there was a bit of a set to, when Childrens’ Laureate and all round good guy Michael Rosen had the temerity to criticise the Council’s plans to “regenerate” Dalston:
“But it hasn’t been ‘regenerated’ for the people living and working there. They’ve been shoved out. The only thing that’s been regenerated are the profits of the property companies and it’s the Labour council tipping our money into their pockets that has enabled them to do it. Regeneration? Degeneration, more like. ”
Obviously the control freaks at Hackney Council weren’t going to let that go, any more than they were going to let Iain Sinclair launch his latest book Hackney: That Rose Red Empire from one of its libraries. The False Mayor branded Michael Rosen part of the “Keep Hackney Crap Brigade”
To which he very sensibly responded:
“The point is, I don’t think Hackney is crap. I’ve never thought Hackney is crap. I’ve never thought that the wrong people were living in Hackney. However, I do think the council is crap. The accusation arcs back to Pipe himself. Perhaps he thinks Hackney and its people are crap and it’s his job to see it bulldozed, replanned and the people moved on. A different matter altogether.”
This, from the man who is also the author of We’re Going on a Bear Hunt is enough to put Michael Rosen in the uncarved.org hall of fame.
It’s always rubbish when you have to explain a joke, but “Keep Hackney Crap” has to be seen in this context – a clarion call to keep what is great about where we live and resist the new shiny corporate vision which is being imposed on it by the political class and their property developer friends.
In all this there are also echoes of the council-sponsored “I (heart) Hackney” badges of yesteryear, as worn by Camilla. The Dutchess of Cornwall had said item pressed into her mitts by an eager Council apparatchik during a flying visit to the City Farm in Haggerston.
Unfortunately Camilla wasn’t given the original “I heart Hackney” t-shirt which was produced by Stewart Home in the eighties.
More information:
OPEN Dalston (check the rest of their site as well).
London Coalition Against Poverty organised a “Hackney Isn’t Crap” walking tour with a nice booklet you can download as a pdf here
Oh yeah, and drop me an email if you would like a badge! (sorry, all gone! try Mark Pawson instead – link at the top!)
UK soundsystem history on flickr
Fat Man sound from Tottenham, Philip Lane Tottenham 1984
Flickr: reggaemusicstores Photostream.
Lovely selection of vintage UK soundsystem flyers and photographs by Steve Mosco aka Jah Warrior aka Reggaemusicstore.
No doubt many of these will end up being pillaged and rinsed out by spotty dubstep fans to add some much needed credibility to their generic productions.
Dan Hancox – The Essential Wiley
Characteristically on point article by Dan on the grime godfather’s top ten selected.
Just when you thought it was safe …
Just when you thought it was safe … giant squids terrorise Californian coast
Divers spooked by tales of assaults as swarms of aggressive jumbo flying squid invade the shallows off San Diego
out on the floor
Musical Fever, The Others, Stoke Newington, Saturday
The Others was the busiest I’ve seen it by quite a large margin. Seems like word is getting out about these nights, which are I guess about ska and rocksteady for the connoisseur. Don’t get me wrong, though, this wasn’t a night for beard stroking. The place was full of the old and young, and the colour ratio was surprisingly mixed for Stoke Newington on a Saturday night.
The organisers are in it for the love and it shows – crisp sound, nice presentation, and most importantly some astounding selections. Once again they’d manage to excavate some senior soundmen I hadn’t heard of, both of whom came loaded with some amazing tunes. As usual I’d never heard most of it before with a few exceptions. There was a nice roots interlude with some Junior Ross and The Spear and The Palmer Brothers.
Then about halfway through the night “Longshot Kick The Bucket” got played. I was pretty surprised at that – it’s an all time classic tune but also one which has been rinsed out on a million Trojan compilations, so not really the sort of thing you’d expect to get aired at Musical Fever. I was then doubly surprised when the the tune went acapella and it turned out it was an impossibly scarce dubplate cut, mixed down by the DJ himself off the mastertapes in JA. Serious.
It was also a proper social night where I hooked up with a whole bunch of people, some I hadn’t seen for over a decade, some internet acquaintences who I’d never met in the flesh before. Grime heads, reggae veterans, people just out for a good night. I didn’t take any photos this time because I was too busy chatting, drinking and dancing.
Next date is September 12th. Advance booking is definitely recommended.
www.myspace.com/musicalfever67
What A Bam Bam, Vibe Bar, Brick Lane, Wednesday
Don Letts is warming up the place and looking spry. I was hoping Martin was going to make it so I could get a photo of them shaking hands or holding a copy of Woofah – but it was not to be. His tunes are OK actually, Barrington Levy, Sizzla, not as obvious as you would think.
There’s a quite strange Jamaican film showing which combines archive footage of people like Daddy Freddy on the mic in a dance with shots of tourists milling about and riding horses. I discuss this with Mr Bug who seems chipper. He’s been doing a bunch of live work with Daddy Freddy and Flowdan and it turns out that Flo’s father knew Freddy when they were both involved with Coxsone Outernational soundsystem. I love those connections between reggae and grime…
I also hail up Bilko who has a new book out, more of which soon.
The hype gradually builds for Sister Nancy: “She’s in the building!…. Showtime soon!”. Eventually Tighten Up’s MC Champion (himself a veteran of Jamdown Rockers soundsystem and no slouch on the mic) takes the stage and proceeds to hype the crowd up in no uncertain terms. And then, there she is: “the only woman MC with a degree”.
It’s straight into “Transport Connection” over the original Studio One cut of The Answer. She sounds good! The tune gets wheeled up after a few choruses and then it’s heads down for a catalogue of foundational classics – Bobby Bobylon, Boxing, you name it. Nancy’s in good form but there isn’t much banter. The crowd is certainly up for it and show their full appreciation with the natural climax of the set: “Bam Bam”. In fact Nancy democratises chorus duties by outsourcing everything to the punters. It is wicked.
Champian reclaims the stage and proceeds to hype the audience for an encore with his vocal skills over “Greetings” – and by falling flat on his arse. Seems like Nancy is recuperating after her exertions, so I decide to follow Champ’s lead by falling down a concrete flight of stairs on my way to the toilet. Inevitably this is witnessed by some nice young ladies who ask me if I am OK.
“Yes, yes, fine, fine.”
Hobble, hobble, wince.
When I return there is still no sign of an encore so we reluctantly head back to keep in the babysitter’s good books. This was a great little midweek session – nice crowd, pretty good sound, excellent selections. Hopefully there will be more…
New Cross Reggae Shops/Labels
Big Chill House – Woofah takeover!
The Heatwave boys have foolishly let me and Droid into their bashment citadel for one night only!
Come down and watch me throw down some eclectic tunes and get slightly intimidated by Droid’s legendary powers of selection!
FREE ENTRY, nice vibes.
