My third year of coming to this festival. The first year, I was a normal punter. Second year, I was an unemployed journo with a delegate pass. This year I was with the press. So presumably next year, I'll either be playing it or selling tickets. PS - much love for Cocoon, Dananananaykroyd and Fight Like Apes.
Previously published on mintsouth.com in May 09
Words - Suzy Sims
Editor - Rob Ball
(c) mintsouth
GREAT ESCAPE FESTIVAL DIARY 2009
THURS 14th MAY
There’s a brisk wind blowing across Brighton seafront, whipping my hair and bashing my bags on my legs as we march towards the Thistle Hotel, home of the delegate check in. After standing in line to have some quite ridiculous photographs of our mintsouth mugs copied onto press passes, we’re away… straight into the bar of the neighbouring Queen’s Hotel. Good work, team.
The Great Escape text service is already in full swing, with reminders popping up about forthcoming street gigs as we find our way to Arc on the front. Up a flight of stairs, round a corner and into a dark, stone-walled room, and we’re not the only people to be starting the festival here. It’s Thursday lunchtime and William Fitzsimmons is onstage. I’m unable to see anything due to the mass of people crowding into the gloom, but there is something comforting about the oak-matured vocals warming the room. When Fitzsimmons emerges, his beard enters the room a good minute before the rest of him. “Set of the festival!” proclaims excited mintsouth editor Rob. Calm down love, we’ve only been here for half an hour…
http://www.myspace.com/williamfitzsimmons
After a bit of time poring gig schedules, changing plans and helping ourselves to several cans of Red Stripe, it’s time to split and head for our evenings of madness. First for me is a wait in the rain outside the gated Audio, a venue which appears to be an underground prison from the outside, but with marginally better décor once you’re down there. I step up the barrier and await Act One, Video Nasties. They appear onstage in the same shirts they wore at their Southampton gig the night before (don’t think I didn’t notice). Opening with an enjoyable waltz, the Nasties are noisy and melodious but not particularly nasty, unless you’re not a fan of the bassist’s extraordinary fringeness. The keyboardist dances like he’s starting an outboard motor. It’s all rather good.
http://www.myspace.com/videonasties
Next up are Mika Miko whose songs are sharp blasts of punk, very short and spicy. From where I’m stood the vocals are being drowned out. The band are made up of fuzzy guitar, high-waisted jeans, telephone mics and saxophone, with a spot of instrument swapping.
http://www.myspace.com/mikamiko
The crowd soon warms up when Dananananaykroyd’s chief screamer Calum Gunn flings himself into the crowd for a dance and a rasping shout. He’s shortly joined by the rest of the band, for they do not shy away from interaction and enjoy an opportunity to show off their dance moves. Drummer/vocalist John Baillie Jr is standing on the barrier when he’s not using the sticks, guitarist Duncan Robertson rubs his guitar across the top of my head, and there are some amused cameramen filming the whole crazy shebang. The lads next to me are going nuts and there’s plenty of shouting, dancing and raucous fun. God, my arms hurt from that barrier.
http://www.myspace.com/dananananaykroyd
Sadly I miss Black Lips as I’m tasked with crossing the rain-filled city to find Komedia. Everything Everything are onstage when I arrive, playing some angular beats mixed with angel voices with very Delays-style harmonies. It’s all very sweet sounding underneath. Meanwhile, I’m busy updating my Twitter feed with ‘I am waiting to see the Rumble Strips’ and am rather surprised to receive a message from the band saying ‘And we’re waiting to play. See you in 20!’
http://www.myspace.com/everythingeverythinguk
The Rumble Strips are the ultimate feelgood party band. The first 15 rows of the crowd are bouncing gleefully and joining in with brassy and cheerful album tracks such as ‘Alarm Clock’, ‘Clouds’ and ‘No Soul’. We also get a handful of newbies including ‘Daniel’ and ‘London.’ A stage invader pops up to cheerfully clap the backs of every band member and yell into the mics while security make a half-assed effort to drag him off. I leave with high spirits. You cannot fail to please with a good Rumble Strips track.
http://www.myspace.com/rumblestripsuk
The Maccabees are on at the Corn Exchange tonight, but the queue is four miles long and I have no patience. My good mood starts to disappear as I splash across Brighton in the search for the Duke Of York Picturehouse. I came here last year yet still managed to stand outside without recognising it before tramping halfway round the block in a sulk. I was in time to see Teitur (pronounced ‘Tayter’) from the Faroe Islands, replete with toy keyboard, striking bass and lullaby melodies. The songs don’t really fit together, like random jigsaw pieces oddly crammed into place, and the vocals tend to flap weakly at times, but when all goes well, it’s not bad.
http://www.myspace.com/teitur
It’s a shame this gig was in a cinema as due to the lateness of the hour, people started drifting off shortly before Cocoon came onstage. French duo Mark and Morgane are sweet, friendly and not entirely professional, breaking into giggles at the slightest thing. They play today minus their band; beautiful, heartfelt charm present in their tunes. Despite the fact I was almost dozing in the chilly seating, Cocoon were one of my festival highlights.
http://www.myspace.com/listentococoon
FRI 15th MAY
After rolling out of bed and arriving at the nearest pub for a decent cooked breakfast, I'm feeling seriously impressed at the number of bruises on my arms from the previous night's barrier activity. At 11.55 I'm stood outside the Pavilion Theatre, watching minor indie bands walk past and impatiently waiting for the rest of mintsouth to leg it across the city. They arrive, panting slightly, and we head off for our first proper celeb greeting of the festival: an interview with Orlando Weeks, lead singer of The Maccabees. Sitting in the cafe next door, it's obvious he also had a late one, but on the whole is bearing up well.
Back at The Thistle Hotel, where I spy The Futureheads' Ross Millard mingling with the pretty people. The celeb spotting doesn't end there. We have a quick chat with Thomas Tantrum to see how they're enjoying their time. At the conference with Spotify head honcho Daniel Ek, I look round to see Radio 1's Huw Stephens sat three rows behind me. If this wasn't excitement enough, a man in front of me puts his hand up and introduces himself to the room as “Jake Shillingford, artist.” Jake Shillingford? The Jake Shillingford of Britpop heydayers My Life Story? Could this day get any better?
No, it actually couldn't. Po Na Na was one-in-one-out so I was unable to enjoy Slow Club and Casiokids. Tramping through the wind and general street gudge, I instead make my way to the Unitarian Church to see what was afoot. First up is Kurran and The Wolfnotes, fronted by what appears to be a pirate and a Pipette. They play plinky and heartfelt folk, sitting down and concentrating hard on the notes. They're closely followed by the gentle tones of New York folktress Leona Naess, though she does betray her calm exterior with some annoyance that the spelling of her name was completely cacked up in the official programme.
http://www.myspace.com/kurranandthewolfnotes
http://www.myspace.com/leonanaess
One of the stars of the night was undoubtedly the harassed caretaker, who appeared onstage halfway through the night to remind us we are very lucky to be drinking beer in a church, but could we please chuck our cans in the bins instead of leaving lager spittled cups rolling around the sacred space. He is given whoops for his trouble.
It was a hard act to follow, but Ex Lovers just about managed with their blend of non-offensive, easy-going rock, the sort which didn't feel out of place in such sensible surroundings. Almost melancholy at times, the band have a worn familiarity to them, like an old friend who you're immensely fond of, but not entirely sure why. Headlining the Unitarian Church was modern poet Johnny Flynn, tonight without his Sussex Wit troubadours. The music is strong and compelling folk, nicely trussed up with some steel guitar. The crowd has a mighty singalong. http://www.myspace.com/weareexlovers
http://www.myspace.com/johnnyflynn
After a brief nap, brought on by a combination of poor sleep and old age, I braved the wind and the drunken party-goers down by The Arches along the seafront, where I rescued Dan Black from deafening music at Coalition and we nipped across the road to the Thistle Hotel for an interview in the warmth. Neither of us are used to working quite this late. By the time we are done, it is almost 1am.
Back at the Coalition, Huw Stephens is wandering around with a poker face. Ou Est Le Swimming Pool are hopping around onstage through cascades of 80s synth, swapping between dance and rap. They're enjoyable, though sadly their name is the best thing about them. In between acts, the Lovebox Allstars DJs some poundingly optimistic house with a taste of trance. Meanwhile, I'm trying to avoid date-rape by turning down a sip from an open can (“Oh go on, you can finish it, I'm off in a minute,” says the guy with a full pint in his other hand) and avoiding the clubbing nobheads who turn up in every city on a Friday night. Dan Black seems a slightly odd choice to follow the DJs for enjoyable as he is, the crowd are dancing and in the mood for more house, therefore the cool electro Mika pop has a slightly subduing effect. Luckily the crowd enjoys his stylised dancing and black leather-clad shape-throwing.
http://www.myspace.com/ouestleswimmingpool
http://www.myspace.com/danblacksound
SAT 16th MAY
The festival is starting to take its toll. I look a state, partly because the showers at my hostel are not designed for anyone to spend a minute in without feeling severely depressed and unpleasantly infectious.
First gig today comes after a 20 minute queue up the flock wallpapered stairs of The Prince Albert along with everyone else who wants to see Fight Like Apes. The band seem to be living up to their name at the moment, with a few sporting black eyes and cut foreheads, then opening with a plastic crate dual. The stage set-up is taking far longer than anticipated. “What do you call a woman with one leg? Eileen!” offers the bassist by way of entertainment, then he looks embarrassed and walks off. The room is packed and hot, with the band adding some heat with the buzzsaw synth and hair flailing. An excellent wake up call for a Saturday afternoon.
http://www.myspace.com/fightlikeapesmusic
The main plan for the evening was to camp out at the Honey Club on the Arches, where we managed to get a spot on the balcony. The special guests opening are the enjoyable commercial pop rock beat combo You Animals and their shambolic frontman clambering around the pillars, followed by charmingly tuneful Sky Larkin. Katie Harkin’s method of playing the guitar above her head fails miserably as three guitars break in succession, resulting in her singing the melodies and apologising profusely. At the end their drummer Animal - sorry, Nestor - bodily rolls over the kit and gives Katie a piggyback offstage.
http://www.myspace.com/youanimals
http://www.myspace.com/skylarkinskylarkin
Johnny Foreigner are up next, and they’re not expecting a massive reception. “Shout ‘eee’ if you know who we are, and ‘ooo’ if you’re waiting for Idlewild,” says singer Alexei, shaking his head jokingly at the response. They’re loud and they’re cool, though the vocals aren’t carrying well to the back at all. Another guitarist appears near the end – I believe he’s from Calories, who recently toured with JoFo – to add some raucous power. The band go down a lot better than they thought they would.
http://www.myspace.com/johnnyforeigner
Next come the band everyone has been waiting for, Idlewild. I say ‘everyone’. Frankly I’m a bit disappointed. They’re kicking ass with some grunge punk rock, but to my ears it’s all a bit formulaic and plain. My feet were aching and I was a little annoyed they came back for an encore when I’d have preferred to be in bed with some hot chocolate. The set does absolutely nothing for me until ‘Love Steals Us From Loneliness’ comes on, and then suddenly I feel quite emotional. I’d like to point out I’m in the minority on this one. Everyone in the crowd, particularly the guy in the yellow t shirt who keeps accidentally headbutting the frightened people stood behind him, seems to be having a wonderful time and the front few rows mosh and josh as best they can on the small step at the front. (I loved it, the new stuff is amazing... plus some old punky stuff. Ed)
http://www.myspace.com/idlewild
After Idlewild, I quick march up to Hector’s House, where there’s a queue of people trying to sneak in. I enter the venue and my mood changes significantly. From slightly gloomy and rocky to flashing disco lights and bright colours, my ears perk up. Thanks to Futurecop! for vastly improving my mood with their sexxxy dance music which combines all the (good) chirpy sounds and neon sights of 1987. They were ace and I wish I’d arrived in time to hear more.
http://www.myspace.com/thefuturecop
The last gig of my festival was Thomas Tantrum, Southampton’s premier mischief-making art-pop band. With wonky indie pop tunes and tuneful hiccups zinging out of every speaker (“Please can we have more vocals?” Megan Thomas keeps pleading to a soundman who is presumably either asleep, or deaf after three days of feedback). With bubbly songs full of flavour, it’s a frenetic finish to a fantastic few days. So, who’s coming next year?
http://www.myspace.com/thomastantrum
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