Two posts in one day for you lucky, lucky readers of this infrequent little blog, how exiting!
There are three things which my life revolves around, my work with The Friends of Bedfordshire Society, my love of music (especially live) and my love of beer. I had a bit of an update on the music front a earlier today. Now to address the other two.
I realise that I haven’t really talked on my blog much (actually, at all), about my work with The Friends of Bedfordshire Society, so briefly… we are a small group which tries to promote the historic and ceremonial county of Bedfordshire with our main interest being the pride of the community itself. As part of this we’ve set up BEDFORDSHIRE DAY (28th November) – a day of celebrations across the county which is just there to say “ain’t Bedfordshire great!”.
There are many things going on but what I wanted to draw attention to on this blog, given it’s beery bent was Leighton Buzzard Brewery. They are a fairly new brewery but who are going from strength to strength with a range of fantastic ales all brewed in their industrial unit on the edge of Leighton Buzzard.
To celebrate Bedfordshire Day they will be opening their brewery for the day and releasing a new beer, Bedfordshire Best. As well as the beers the Little Buzzard Bakery will be selling Bedfordshire Clangers to the thirsty beer loving masses. So why not head down if you are in the area, they are open from 10 a.m. until 6 p.m.
I Should have told you about Natasha a long time ago. I remember standing at a music festival in Milton Keynes next to her brother when he posed the question, “So, are you going to write a blog article about my sister then?” Natasha was on the stage and she was rocking it and at the time I fully intended to go home and type up a little post.
Clearly it slipped my mind.
I am righting this wrong right now though with a simple message: LISTEN TO THIS GIRL. I was reminded of my need to blog by a post on Facebook, again from her brother, with this video covering David Gray’s Sail Away With Me.
My review of this song is simply summed up by what I wrote on her brothers Facebook: “By chance I was listening to the original about an hour ago! This is a great cover. All the passion and sentiment of the David Grey version but completely made it her own.”.
I have since listened to her EP – which is available to buy from Bandcamp and loved every track on it, especially the second track, The Artist That Lives.
I know it’s been a long time since I last posted but truthfully there hasn’t been much to blog about. I haven’t really been drinking anything that interesting and work has meant that life has been plodding on without going anywhere or doing anything of any note. Or at least that is what I thought. Looking back over the past few months I have had a few tales to tell, situations where I’ve thought “that might be worth blogging about” but never really got round to it, then forgot about. So prepare yourself for a short barrage of posts concerning all the things I’ve been too lazy to type up until now.
First up as the title suggests: ale. A while ago now I was expecting to get a few days off and relax for a long weekend all of a sudden the bat-phone goes off. “An emergency installation of lockers in Cornwall, can you get there tomorrow?” So much for the long weekend, but a trip to Cornwall is always a good thing right?
Cape Cornwall
Bags packed we head down to Cape Cornwall Golf and Leisure club, who require our assistance with their new locker room. If you ever get the chance to get down to this part of the world just go because it is breathtakingly gorgeous. Even on the the worst days, when the weather was throwing everything it had got the rugged landscape stood up to it with ease and still held a bleak magnificence. Even when the fog rolled in off the sea, just knowing it was there beyond the think fug was enough to make the hairs stand on end and bring out the inner poet from the soul (don’t worry I won’t inflict poetry any on you).
If that wasn’t good enough the golf club was good enough to put us up for the duration in one of their on site hotel rooms (result) with a sea view (result++). Sitting in the evening watching the waves crash against the rocks was great.
On the first evening the bar wasn’t open, not enough guests to warrant it, so we ventured into the village. The village in question is called St. Just. It’s a small town set a mile or so inland. Village amenities include a butchers, a bakers, a candlestick makers, a green grocers, a deli, a chippy, two newsagents, a post office and a garage, nearly all independent. On top three pubs which all, from the outside at least, looked wonderfully charming and full of character. I’m sure that in season they are booming with business and out of season the locals will be enough to keep things ticking over, because despite its appearances, St. Just is actually quite big. We had a quick fish and chip supper before returning to the hotel with a few bottles of beer from the newsagents.
The next night the hotel bar was open so we didn’t need to drive anywhere for food or drink. The bar always stocks Sharp’s Doom bar and also one other ale which is the choice of the Golf captain. The captain chose wisely with another Sharp’s, this time Atlantic. An appropriately named beer considering we were at Cape Cornwall. [For those who don’t know and are slightly interested Cape Cornwall is the point where the Atlantic currents meet and split to either go south and round the English Channel or north and up into the Irish Sea.]
Now it is to my shame that up until this point I had not had Sharp’s Atlantic, even though it is in my local Tesco. It’s just one of those things that I never got round to. But I was about to rectify that with an accompanying rib-eye steak that was cooked to perfection. It was a beautiful pint, filled with juicy flavours of orange and mango with a rounded sweet malty after-taste that was sublime. I probably had one more than I should but I just couldn’t help myself, it was just so nice, and after a long day at work it was just a real treat, especially with the food accompaniment which was first class.
* * *
Fast forward a few days and you find me at another job staying at another stunning location, this time in the Cotswolds, just outside Hook Norton. Now, if you read this blog because you’re interested in beer I don’t think I need to tell you where this is going but for everyone else (Hi Mum!) you should know that Hook Norton is mostly famed for its brewery, and a fine brewery it is too.
The Gate Hangs High
The rolling hills are a fine setting for a golf club and made for a pleasant days work, but they make for an even greater setting for twee little English country villages which look like the backdrop to Midsummer Murders. The sort of village which we all think the rest of the world thinks that we live in (did that make sense?). I’m trying to think of another way of putting this without using the phrases “Chocolate-box” or “picture -postcard”. From the golf club we drove for several miles through village after village passing several pubs and even a distillery before finally arriving at a cross roads just outside Hook Norton itself where on the corner sits the perfectly proportioned building that is The Gate Hangs High, a Hook Norton pub.
Beautiful location, real ales on tap, well appointed, comfortable rooms. I was getting a feeling of deja vu (except in the Cotswolds there isn’t much of a sea view and we didn’t get the room for free but hey, you can’t have everything). There was quite a selection of ‘Hooky’ beers on tap and in bottle and I endeavoured to try several of them. The stand outs for me we the cask ones. The bottles, while nice enough, just didn’t cut it. Lion and Old Hooky were the two which I went back to the most and with good reason. They weren’t going to set the world alight with some brand new highly technical hop combination or an astronomical ABV, they were just really well executed ordinary, down to earth beers. This was for me especially true of the Old Hooky with the subtle dark fruit flavours which add a special quality to the beer, just luxury in a glass without pretension.
* * *
Fast forward a few more days and I’m back in Bedfordshire and in Tesco and what do you know both Atlantic and Old Hooky are in bottles and are sitting on the shelf begging to be bought, which is exactly what I did. That evening I got them out of the fridge and tried them in turn. Atlantic first and then the Old Hooky. I was disappointed with both. Now it could have been something to do with being at home and having not worked that day not needed the calming refreshment and relaxing hug of a nice beer, but I just didn’t get it. The Old Hooky was OK and perfectly drinkable, just not quite as amazing as it was in The Gate Hangs High. The Atlantic, however was dreadful by comparison, so dull of taste compared to the vibrant, flavoursome drink I had in Cornwall. In the end I took to telling myself it wasn’t the same beer while I tried to finish it, so much was my disappointment.
So like the title says Real ale really is the real thing.
I have just got back from the Isle of Wight and this year’s Isle of Wight music festival where a fun time was had by all. There was one thing there which really got my goat. The Beer. Now I’m sure that the powers that be have done a lot of market research and deduced the average age of the festival ticket holders and what they are likely to drink etc. etc. But we’re not all 19 year olds with no taste so why oh why do the main bars only give the options of lager and cider? And when I say cider I mean Strongbow, a drink which is so ubiquitous at IoW that it even has a stage named after it!
Looking around the site I saw that there was a huge range of people, from the group of teenagers on their first festival, to the family of mum, dad and 2.4 children to the group of ageing hippies who haven’t realised that the summer of love has been and gone. Even the demographics of these say that some of these people want some ale of some kind, or at least a different cider, one which preferably doesn’t corrode the back of your throat, in fact I’m getting acid reflux just thinking about it. Now I’m sure defenders of IoW will say “what are you talking about? there is a tent over there with real ale on”. Yeah, one tent, about 15 minutes walk from the front of the main stage, with one local ale (Island Brewery’s Yachtsman’s, which was rather nice) and one foreign beer (Lindeman’s Kriek, a bit sweet but nice and very popular). The popularity of the Kreik really said it all, in the end they had to stop serving it by about 9 p.m. every evening so that they could ration it for the next day!
So if we want the beer from this tent we have to miss all the good music on the main stage, do we? Well that’s just great.
The Isle of Wight isn’t the only festival like this. Secret Garden Party do the same thing, one tent in the arse end of nowhere which has a couple of local beers and all the main bars near the music give you the choice of Kopparberg or San Miguel. Ditto Reading (and therefore presumably Leeds too).
Some festivals are catching on Latitude a few years ago already had at least one ale on at every bar, but they made the same mistake as IoW and didn’t order enough. Glastonbury, on the other hand has got it bang on. Real ale at all the bars, even though it’s just one choice, even at the main bar’s near all the good music. As well as that there are several over bars which are more like small beer festivals in their own right. And on top of that there is the institutions that are: the cider bus and the brothers bar, which is arguably where the cider revolution of the recent years took place.
Why can Glastonbury get it so right and yet the others get it so wrong? I know the first thing that anyone will say is that its all to do with sponsorship and I realise that, but I’m paying nearly £200 a ticket and I can’t even get the drink I want? It’s not like I’m unwilling to pay! And on top of all the money they make out of me for the privilege of not having a decent drink is the fact that they make even more money out of the drinks company sponsorship deals.
I realise that people put on festivals to make money. It’s a business after all, but at some point (a point somewhere around overpriced sponsorship deals for bars) it starts to lose the fun and become just a bit tedious. Glastonbury itself has often been accused of selling out and corporate brandings taking over but it is still far and away the best of them all. Why can’t the others learn from them?
As you should all be aware by now The Session is a monthly group exercise whereby bloggers from around the world all come together and collectively post on a given topic which surrounds the subject of beer. This month the session is being hosted by Boak and Bailey from boakandbailey.com. They said:
We’d like you to drink one or more from that list and write about it on Friday 6 June… and that’s it.
Now first of all I can see the the calendar I know it isn’t 6th June, infact it is 19 days overdue. If I were at school still and my homework was this late then I would have been severely chastised (so thank god I’m not and it isn’t). I did have every intention of writing this post on time, infact I had planned on writing it early, but life, and the fact I’m a crap blogger put paid to that.
When I first read the subject from Boak and Bailey’s website I immediately knew what I was going to do. I had once had a drink in a pub a few miles down the road, The George. When I got back I had received a few messages from twitter about my pint of Greene King’s xx mild. A small conversation got going during which it was suggested that it would go rather well with Guinness. Not all that convinced, and the George being a good hours walk away, I forgot all about it.
Fast forward to last month and Boak and Bailey’s post triggers a memory of an old conversation. So that was it. I would have a pint of half xx mild and half Guinness in the George.
The God’s of weather were on my side at the beginning of the month so I went for it Sunday 1st. It was an hours walk through the fields and small villages nearby, passing a few other pubs which I ignored so that my first pint would be in the George. As I walked into Silsoe, the village where the George is, another pub, The Star and Garter, was heaving. There were people milling around out the front, I could hear more in the back and I could see that it was rammed inside. I thought to myself that it must be the fine weather drawing everyone out. I retrospect, it was perhaps more to do with The Star and Garter being a better pub. The george was nearly empty, save for a few die hard local types who, when I walked in at least, were talking about how they want their funerals to be. On the wall above them was a brass plaque with the words “bullshit corner”. I can image there guys in here on a friday night and this being a very apt sign indeed.
I went to the bar and looked at the range on offer, Greene King IPA, Abbott Ale and well that was about it on the ale front. No xx mild. I believe the youth of today abbreviate it to FFS. They did have the other half of my beer check list though, so I ordered a pint of Guinness. I nearly fell off my bar stool when she asked for £4.10. I expect that sort of thing in London or at a festival but here? No wonder The Star and Garter was more popular!
I overheard the three stooges in the corner talking about another pub, again about an hour’s walk away, The Stone Jug. This gave me the idea to try there for a mild, they have several ales on at any one time and have one many CAMRA prizes over the years. Never know, I might get lucky.
I didn’t. It was a lovely walk in the country, followed by a lovely pint of Hopping Mad’s Brainstorm, but alas, no mild.
In the end I had to settle for a bottle of Brains Original Stout and a tin of Thwaites Champion mild from my local Tesco. I got two drinks out of this and I mixed them deliberately about 60/40. Firstly the one with more mild. As you would expect it was dark, really dark. Mix two drinks that are the same colour and don’t be surprised if the result is the same colour. But mix together two drinks that you like the taste of and you can be surprised that it doesn’t taste all that nice. It was almost like the two drinks didn’t really mix all that well, individual mouthfuls being dominated by one or the other. And of those that truly did mix, it was a foul concoction that had a most bizarre mouthfeel. I did not care for it at all.
The second drink was more stout than mild. This was much better, the more robust flavours in the stout stood forward and really took control of the drink, while the mild still stood there in the background imparting its classic Thwaites je nais se qua.
All in all a much better drink than the first, however I can’t really see the point. In my view it you want mild, fine, have mild, and if you want stout, fine, have stout, but don’t mix the two together. It’s not a clever move. So thanks to the people of the twittersphere who pointed me in the direction of this long afternoons goose chase around the rural pubs of Bedfordshire, but after all that it really wasn’t worth it. Perhaps if I had stayed true to the recipe and gone with the brands I was supposed to it would be a different story. If I see any genuine xx mild on tap I’ll let you know.
I left the hostel after a few hours kip. “It’s the last day” I was thinking to myself, could it really be over already? It felt like I was just settling in.
Andy Shauf at Blind Tiger
I made my way, the same as yesterday to Blind Tiger. Distracted by the smell of the free barbeque I’m not sure I really paid enough attention to Andy Shauf, a Canadian bloke with a guitar doing his thing. Listening again back home, I wished I had paid more attention because his songs are pretty good.
Tristesse Contemporaine at a very smokey BermudaTriangle
From wishing I had paid more attention to wishing I hadn’t bothered at all in one step. Tristesse Contemporaine were plating at Bermuda TRiangle, a long, thin venue which was hard to see to the stage. Tristesse Contemporaine were a less music and more just plain noise, repetitive drivel.
Lazytalk at the Festival Hub
So far, no good. Two bands, one I forgot to pay attention to, the next was so bad that they have the distinction of being the only band which I didn’t watch to the end of their set. The next band more than made up for it though. Lazytalk were fun. A bouncy band which got the crowd on their feet. Even those standing still on the side, leaning against the bar, couldn’t help but tap a toe or nod a head along with the music. The front man had a swagger about him with his mirrored sunglasses and confident smile that drew the whole crowd in. Their cover of Dawn Penn‘s You Don’t Love Me was fantastic.
Disraeli & The Small Gods at The Spiegeltent
After Lazytown I was walking out of the festival tent and noticed the noise coming out of the Speigeltent, the other tent in the pop up part of the festival. The queue wasn’t that long and even though it was one-in-one-out I persevered and got in to see the last few songs of a set by Disraeli & The Small God’s. I was so glad that I had stayed for this. Think The Streets, Morcheeba and Portishead having a trip-hop-indie-gypsy-rap baby. This was something unique and well worth listening to and after listening back home, something that is really only justified live.
Billy Lockett at The Spiegeltent
Having only just got into the Spiegeltent when the set finished I decided to stay for whoever the next act is. Turns out it was a chap called Billy Lockett. A talented gentleman who plays both the guitar and the piano, although not at the same time. He finished his set with a cover of The Lumineers and their only proper hit Ho Hey, which gives you an idea of the direction he was gone in. He is very insistent that the audience clap along to everything. He was also very keen to tell everyone how he has been played on Radio 1. Get Him!
Carnival Youth at The Festival Hub
Being very lazy I decided to get a sausage roll and then do very little moving by going back tot the festival hub. Perhaps I could have been a bit more adventurous but the late nights and early mornings were starting to catch up with me and I really didn’t fancy the walk. When Carnival Youth came on I wasn’t all that impressed although I was going to stick through it and remain looking interested if only to counteract the incredibly rude girl infront of me who continually rolled her eyes and faked a yawn at least twice a minute throughout the whole set. There wasn’t anything wrong with the music persay, it just wasn’t pushing anyones buttons. It wasn’t just me. You could see the glazed over look on the eyes on nearly everyone in the audience. They were clearly going for the indie rock image with some of them wearing suits and of course the obligatory moustached band member.
Pale Grey at The Festival Tent
Not learning my lesson I stayed a bit longer and watched Pale Grey. These were a bouncy bunch of Belgians who just needed to turn the mics up a bit. This was followed by Lay Low, wh in my mind was trying to be Björk and failing (I might just be thinking this because I know she is from Iceland), to be honest the girl couldn’t really sing all that well!
Glass Owls at The Festival Hub
Glass Owls were a bit of a disappointment because I was expecting to see Glass Animals… again. They were perfectly good indie rockers who I’m sure will do well on the pub circuit, entertaining in pubs and clubs for a few years before they realise they aren’t going to make it big and all get a job in a bank.
Powder Blue at Audio
I moved on after this and caught the end of Powder Blue at Audio. It’s easy to see why the descriptions of them say chilled psychedelic rock. It hits the nail of the head. They have something of a Warpaint vibe about them, which, if you have the same tastes in music as me, can only be a good thing. Unfortunately I only caught the end of the set.
FTSE at Digital
I walked along the sea front, photo-bombed someones holiday snaps and to Digital to see FTSE. Today was beginning to be panning out as a bit of a waste what with all the crap at the festival hub in the afternoon and FTSE didn’t help. This is where live music meets club music and I thought how your standard raver or clubber doesn’t really mix musically with most live music and I seemed to have stumbled onto the rare cross over. I have to say that it really wasn’t my bag, especially after the MC started telling the crowd how crap we all were because we weren’t raving like a good’n. I felt like going up to the stage and pointing out that it was 7 p.m. and most of us have been listening to indie rock all afternoon, how does he expect us all to jump straight out of one frame of mind into another, and in any case the more clubland scene that this will go down well at don’t even open their doors until 10 p.m. usually. What was he expecting. In any case he finished the set by telling the crowd to “Fuck off”. So I did.
French For Rabbits at Komedia
French For Rabbits were the next band and one of the few bands on my mental list of bands I needed to try and see this weekend. On my way from Digital to Komedia I tried to remember what they were like. I remember listening to them online and I remember enjoying listening to them on youTube. I did not remember what they sounded like though. It was heavenly. Their own website says “Somewhat hidden away, in the seaside village of Waikuku Beach, New Zealand you will find the haunting dream-folk duo”. Dream Folk is spot on her voice is something special. I know I have said this a lot over these last few posts but it really was a highlight of the entire weekend for me. Also they were great between tracks while tuning and swapping guitars they were very funny. Two thumbs up from me.
Young Summer at Komedia
I stayed in Komedia for Young Summer. It’s clear that Young Summer has ambition. The “band” is one chap on an electro-percussion device while everything else was pre recorded on a laptop, leaving the front woman, presumably called Summer, to sing her heart out. And sing she does, not in the sweet twee way that French For Rabbits did, in a much more sexy, confident Lana-Del-Ray-esque bold voice. I think I still prefer French For Rabbits out of the two though.
Rebeka at The Brighthelm Center
It’s getting to the point in the evening where I have seen all the bands that I wanted to see and now it’s just time to take pot luck and go for what’s on nearby and what hasn’t started yet. This notion took me back up the road to the Brighthelm Center where Polish Rebeka was about to start. I once new a guy who really over used the word “sick” to mean anything which is good and whenever I catch myself using the term I can’t help but think of him. He popped up in my mind a lot during the set. It’s funny, isn’t it how some bands are wicked, while others are sublime, some are fantastic and another group are sick. I can’t think why I put Rebeka in the sick group but they defiantly are. I felt myself moving through the crowd throughout the set. I started off quite close to the back and ended up nearly on the stage with the band.
You are Wolf at the Dome Studio
I took up residence for the rest of the night at the Dome Studio. I walked in there with the intention of watching one band and then moving on, then I saw Martin for m last nights party at the hostel, the one in the red coat. I remembered immediately that he had wanted to see a band called trans (when I mean immediately I mean as soon as he had reminded me). Trans would be playing later on. For now though it was You Are Wolf, a folk act which uses loops and electronic aids to layer up a giant sound built out of hitting pots and pans together with playing an eclectic array of odd instruments which shouldn’t go together, but it really works. All of her songs are from an album completely about birds. I love an album with a concept rather than just 12 individual songs shoved on one disc. Sadly She isn’t on Spotify.
Arc Iris at the Dome Studio
You knew that you would have to be prepared for the unexpected with Arc Iris from the moment they walked on stage. The costumes were out of this world and the music was just as pot-smokingly out there. Three Keyboards a cello a drum kit and a trumpet by less people than there are instruments musically sometimes working in harmony and sometimes juxtaposed to one another. You might not agree with the sound of some of it but you have to admire the talent of anyone who can play three different keyboards with two people, arms intertwined in the most strange of fashions.
After Arc Iris, whose set seemed to go on for ages, finally Trans came after an age long sound check, which was a waste of time because for the first few songs they were still adjusting the levels. Martin, who I mentioned earlier, was a complete Trans nut, he told me the complete back story to all of the band members before they came on. He had got right to the front so that he could be nearer his idol, Bernard Butler of Suede fame, “the one who inspired him to pick up the guitar in the first place”. I could see him flapping about manically at the front Bernard who eventually snapped and told him words to the effect of “I know now shut up”. Afterwards I asked him what he was doing, apparently he was trying to give him instructions to relay to the sound guy. Anyway, after a few hit and miss tracks they finally got the audio spot on and played for nearly an hour over their allotted time, not that anyone cared. It was proper rock and I loved it. It was a perfect way to end the festival. I had fun, Martin had fun, I think the rest of the audience had fun and you could tell that the band were having fun to. Everyone in that room just loved being there and isn’t that what live music is all about?
Trans at the Dome Studio
Trans at the Dome Studio
Martin and I walked back to the hostel together, pretentiously reviewing the gig we had just seen with overly complicated words (what do you expect, I’m a blogger as you know and he is a student music journalist). We talked back at the bar for a bit until a contingent of those back at the hostel decided to join the manager and wander off into the night and find a gay club to finish off the weekend. Not being my cup of tea I stayed back and had a chat with a Czech, an Italian and Andrew the sommelier with occasional input from Irish and Australian from last night.
We all said our farewells in the morning and that was that for another year. You know you have to walk to the station and go home, but you don’t want to. It hadn’t even begun and it was all over. Already I’m waiting for next year.
I like a lie in and for me one of the most irritating things in life is waking up earlier than you have to. I knew that I’d be seeing my first band at about midday and yet for some reason my subconscious decided to wake me up at half 9. This wasn’t funny considering the late night I had yesterday. With all the will in the world a shower does not take three hours!
Kieran Leonard at The Brighthelm Center
Nevermind, I dossed around the hostel for a bit, went for a walk, had some breakfast and was still the first one in the queue to see Kieran Leonard at The Brighthelm Center. It was a nice way to settle into another day madness. A cup of overly fizzy larger branded cidre, a bloke with a guitar singing songs about hangovers and surprisingly, no hangover myself. Keiran’s catchy tunes got under everyone’s skin and as he played you could have heard a pin drop, if it wasn’t for the fact that their was a giant stack of amps blaring out what was happening on stage, but you know what i mean.
I Have A Tribe at Audio
I Have A Tribe was on at Audio. This was an Irish chap who is usually part of a large group, but the group didn’t show up, so he decided to carry on without them. I always try and see a few Irish bands over the course of the weekend because someone is always handing out a freebee music from Ireland CD. I Have A Tribe’s surviving member has a really impressive beard. You can hear in the music the similarities between them and Villagers, I wouldn’t be surprised if they get compared quite a lot.
I had decided to catch the end of the band that was playing upstairs in Above Audio, The People, The Poet, and on the way out I bumped into Christian and Marcus, two friends from Germany who make their way to Brighton every year to witness the Great Escape. I had met them last year where we saw quite a few bands together, including The Jooles, who still stick out for me as one of the highlights of 2013’s festival.
September Girls at Audio
I had to make a quick decision, go upstairs and stick with the plan or go back downstairs and talk to Marcus and Christin for a bit and watch September Girls instead. I think I made the wrong decision. Don’t get me wrong, The People, The Poet were good, they were a couple of chaps from Wales who do what you do with an acoustic guitar, it’s just when I went back downstairs to catch the end of September Girls set I was blown away. They rocked it like a good’n. Impressed indeed.
Based on a recommendation from Marcus and Christian I went up to the Green Door Store to see Mighty Oaks. I didn’t get to see them even though I got in because the Green Door Store has a room with a bar and a room with a stage. One was full and the other was so rammed full of people that you had no hope. I abandoned my plans and made for The Hope, a pub with a small venue above.
Sun Glitters at The Hope
It took an age for Sun Glitters to come on and when he started it took an age for him to finish. This was a sort of ambient trance DJ set. I’m sure if you were in the back room of some sort of hipster club in Hoxton at 3 a.m. then that would be fine. Not 3 p.m. in a pub in Brighton.
I left as soon as it finished and practically ran to Komedia to see KiT. Show canceled – crap! Ahh well, back to the festival hub to see what’s happening there then. What was happening was Misty Miller. I was really enjoying Misty Miller, a great rock chick band, to my mind nothing offensive, just good old fashioned rock ‘n’ Roll. Half way through the set they were told that they had to stop because they were too loud.
Misty Miller at The Festival Hub
Too loud?
TOO LOUD!
What bullshit! What the hell do you expect if you book a rock band, I mean they did listen to the bands they booked, didn’t they? So yeah, that was cut short and as I waited for the next band to come on I watched as there were heated discussions backstage, by back stage I mean behind a drum kit. A plastic Rose suffered from this sudden shyness on behalf of the organisers. At least Misty Miller got to play a few songs, A Plastic Rose just didn’t play at all.
A Plastic Rose not playing at The Festival HubSeoul at The Unitarian Church
After the cockup I decided I’d find somewhere else to watch bands, at least they would be playing! The Unitarian Church for me has always had really soulful and exceptionally beautiful music in previous years. So I didn’t even look up Seoul. In the queue I was talking to a couple of chaps who had signed up to the txt alert scheme. They had ended up getting tickets to see Kaiser Chiefs, all for the princely sum of £1.50 to sign up to a txt alert. I will be doing the same next year. So, Seoul. Some say they are dream-pop. Well they certainly put me to sleep. burn.
Theo Verney at Coaltion
What followed was a long stint in Coalition. I bumped into Marcus and Christian again and this time we stuck together. They clearly have an instinct for the best bands because I stuck with them for most of the night and it was wicked. First on the bill at coalition was Theo Verney. Quite simply Theo rocked! Imagine Chad dickface from Nickelback, now imagine that he was actually good, now try and forget all the crap that Nickelback have put out over the years, now add some personality, some fun, turn the bass up and take away the OTT canadian accent and replace it with an ordinary English voice and you are some way towards Theo. He was so good I was compelled afterwards to go over just to tell him I enjoyed his set.
Team Me in the crowd at Coalition
Team Me look like their just having fun. So much so that the audience is sucked into it as well. Probably some of the best party rock I have ever seen live. Honestly if these were playing at any house party it would go on until the police were called. I don’t see how anyone could get bored of these. They finished their set by jumping into the crowd and finishing off their guitar solo’s amongst us all.
Glass Animals at Coalition
I had a vague recognition of the name of the band Glass Animals, I listened to them completely unaware, loving it all the same, right up to the point they played their current single, Gooey. Gooey is a song that optimized their whole set. Not too fast paced but all enveloping and strangely sexy (An odd thing to say about a group of men, I’m talking about the music, not them). The sound hits you and its like you’re absorbed into it. Christ, what were you smoking Looke? No really it’s like that without any mind altering substances. Listen to it in a dark room with the volume up and you never know, you might just feel the same way.
Fat White Family at Coalition
The same couldn’t be said for Fat White Family. If you have heard the single touch the leather you might think you have an idea of what Fat White Family are all about. You don’t. The single played on the radio is a dark, brooding slow song which doesn’t give even a hint of their true nature. In essence I left that gig realising that they were in fact a punk band pure and simple. A punk band complete with its very own nutter front man who was more than happy to get half his kit off. I heard about another gig they played later in the festival where the guy was down to just a g-string. I’m not sure if I want that mental image or if I would want to remember the spectacle of the whole event.
Syd Arthur at The Dome Studio
We left and went to see Syd Arthur at Dome Studio. A relaxed wicked general rock band. Nothing particularly stood out about this band but it was all pretty good. This is where I should have parted company with my German friends. They had been instrumental in some of the best picks of the day and thought they would carry on doing the same. We had thought about seeing Royal Blood at the Corn Exchange but the queue was stupid. We ended up in pub called the Fitzherbert in a small room above listening to a thrash metal band that was so incoherent that we left pretty soon after they started playing. REally and truly I should have stuck with the queue at for Royal Blood or stayed in the Dome Studio after Syd Arthur and watched Courtney Barnett play again. Instead we ended up having fish and chips on the sea front and then going our separate ways, the Germans went to bed and I went to the hostel.
Back at the hostel I nearly ended up going with an Irish guy back out to watch Fat White Family again, but decided against it. Instead I ended up having a strange conversation with a chap called Martin (who had a very errr.. lets say distinctive red coat) and Andrew the wine sommelier (not a festival goer, just lived nearby and was in the bar). Irish came back at about three in the morning and we had a chat about music and bands etc. with an Australian girl and her incoherently drunk friend until dawn.
As the previous post said, I’m going back to writing a bit about the music I’ve seen lately and a few weeks ago was The Great Escape Festival, an annual event held in Brighton as part of the much wider Brighton Fringe Festival. WARNING: This post contains bad photography.
After the great Darjeeling debacle I eventually arrived in Brighton at about half past 12. It was cold and wet, and it was blowing a hoolie, with the sort of drizzly rain more akin to mid October than to May. I buttoned myself up and marched on the wristband collection point, bag in one hand and trying to hold my hat on my head with the other.
I have been to the festival a few times before and every other year there has been a caravan by the library. I knew that it had changed this year to a grassy area near the Pavillion. When I arrived it was all different, I had expected it to be a similar set-up to what was about last year, they have jumped forward with their ambitions this year. Previously a few small caravans and a gazebo selling cans of beer. This year, two full stages, one of which was in a very hippy tent and the other in a long marquee with a proper bar inside (it even served local real ales!). Next to these two were lots of other little temporary pop up structures, a few food serving caravans, a vinyl shop, a box office, wristband exchange, toilets and another bar, Heineken branded. They had set up a small village for all the audiophiles to shelter from the rain.
I stood in the almost deserted main bar after I had gotten my wristband. I stood at the bar and ordered my first pint of the weekend, a Summer Session by Laine Brewing, brewed in a pub which I must have walked past a dozen times over the weekend, but alas, had no time to pop in.
Doomsquad at Blind Tiger
First band was down the road in Blind Tiger, I managed to catch the end of the set. Doomsquad were a bit electro, and a bit hippy at the same time. Out there… Man. A band that has to be played with the bass up high. I would love to hear their recorded stuff played on a proper vinyl turntable.
HSY at Blind Tiger
My hostel wasn’t allowing check in until two o’clock but it was only round the corner, so instead of marching off to some distant corner of the city I decided to take a punt on whatever was up next. All I knew was that they would be Canadian, I had already surmised that Blind Tiger would be showcasing Canadian music all weekend by the big Canadian music posters everywhere. I was glad I stayed. HSY were to my mind what you would call a stoner-rock band with a bit of nirvana style grunge thrown in. Their facebook description just says “loud, blood thinning, temper temper, sludge, crash.”. I shall always remember this band as the one with the girl who looked so “herbally relaxed” that she might fall over.
Hannah Georgas at Blind Tiger
Check in – dump bag – walk out into the storm now rattling round Brighton, trying to claim my hat at every possible opportunity. Just to avoid the weather I jumped straight back into Blind Tiger. I managed to get back before the next band even finished tuning up, which was a result because they (or should I say she) were pretty good to. Her name was Hannah Georgas. She was a breath of slightly moody fresh air, that doesn’t make sense does it? Think something along the lines of a Canadian more pop version of Daughter and you might be half way there.
Courtney Barnett at Komedia
Looking at the time I thought I’d better make myself scarce. I really wanted to see Courtney Barnett and, realising that so would quite a few other people, I thought I’d better get there early. It was a good job that I did. There was a bit of a queue but I thought that would be alright, the previous band would finish and some people must leave, right? After ten minutes and the queue hadn’t moved and a bouncer called that it was one-in-one-out. I was disappointed, but I knew that she would be playing later on and so I contemplated moving on. The people in front of me decided to see a German nad at the Green Door Store, an indescribably unique venue underneath Brighton train station. I thought about doing the same but then, just as I was about to move on, the crowd shifted forward as a few dribs and drabs also decided to leave. The next thing I knew I was in by the skin of my teeth. The crowd got stopped as soon as I had passed. It was rammed inside but the huge crowd produce a great atmosphere for the solo acoustic set. I love the double EP, a sea of split peas, by Courtney and it was great to hear a different version of the songs which, with all the radio play, I knew pretty well. The set was over too quick.
Stepping back out from the dark of Komedia’s downstairs stage to the bright light of day time is one of the few times where a cold, drab, drizzly day looks bright and inviting. As soon as my eyes adjusted, I realised that it was as dull as it was when I went down.
PS I Love You at Blind Tiger
PS I Love You was the name of the band who were playing back at Blind Tiger when I got back. I had heard a lot of good things about this band, lots of people muttering about going to see them when I was in the queue for Courtney Barnett. Goes to show that you shouldn’t pay much attention to rumours, especially when you are just overhearing someone else’s conversation. The rock band which you will be hearing on Spotify is not really the same as the band you will hear live. I have my suspicions that the sound man had something to do with it but what ever the problem was, the weedy voice of the guy and the terribly distorted sound was just incomprehensible.
By now it was getting to the point where the daytime events finish and there is a gap before the night time events begin. All that is on are the bands playing back by the wristband exchange, where all the pop up stages are. While I was here, along with the rest of Brighton, I made a point of going to the burger van. This was so good it deserves its own post. I’ll add a link to that post when I write it later.
By the time I had finished feasting Sam Fender had already began his set. This is one of those singer/songwriter solo-bloke-with-a-guitar type of sets that you will always bump into a few of at the Great Escape. There is nothing wrong with them, in deed, Sam was very good, and very entertaining between songs as well as during them. It’s just I’m getting a little bored of the same sort of thing and I’m afraid it went in one ear and out the other a bit. After each day I wrote a few notes about each band. For Sam Fender I wrote one word “Geordie” because that’s all that stood out for me. Sorry Sam.
Eva Stone at the Festival Hub
I had a simple note for the next act as well. I simply wrote “Beautiful Voice” for Eva Stone. She finished her set with an a capella number which blew me away. I remember being in complete awe at her talent and her bravery to sing without back up from any instruments at all. Even with a sea of heads and a view between some peoples shoulders it still managed to draw me in and I was lost in the moment. So much so that I couldn’t even tell you what the song was!
RM Hubbert at Concorde 2
RM Hubbert was playing at Concord 2. I was basing my decision entirely on the little one sentence description in the festival guide. I was hoping it would pay off because its a bloody long way to Concorde 2, as anyone from Brighton will testify. All I can say was that it was another great performance, was looking back at the day so far and really only had one bad that I can think of that I wasn’t all that keen on, and that was because of the distortion overpowering the set. As RM Hubbert played he mesmerized the audience with his guitar ability. He amused us and he pulled on our heartstrings with his anecdotes betweens songs, I go like an anecdote between songs. He didn’t sing much, he just left his guitar tell the story.
Deciding to stay was based on the long walk along the sea front. I thought I had better make it worth while and so I took a punt on the next band. XFM were curating this stage and it was obvious from their next choice that they wanted to start pulling in the crowd in time for the nights headliners: Augustines. I’m guessing that’s why the bought in Amber Run. Amber Run were probably quite good, but following on from RM Hubbert my ears couldn’t adjust. I lost interest and started flicking through my festival guide to see what else was on, then I realised that by the time I got back into town from Concorde 2 I would have missed them anyway. I decided to stay and watch the end of the predictably indie rock set which still didn’t grab me. After which I stepped once more into the hoolie on Brighton sea front.
Emilie Nicolas at Komedia
Back up to Komedia to watch Emilie Nicolas, a Norwegian girl with a voice which goes well with the electronic melodies. I don’t know if she sings to fit the music or the music was written to suit her style of singing, whichever way it was, it works. I was slightly distracted with her looking like a friend of mine. I was sorry that I had missed the beginning of the set, but that will happen if you have to walk from Concorde 2, honestly it would be more convenient if it was in Scarborough!
Laura Welsh at The Brighthelm Center
I did see the whole set for Laura Welsh. It was the first act of the evening at The Brighthelm center. Usually a church and community center but for this weekend it was a venue with kool bar staff who tell you where to go to get a drink which is cheaper than their own bar (clearly not interested in profits here). Anyway, Laura was even kooler than the bar staff, she had an on stage swagger and confidence that she really backs up with a voice so perfect. Images of New York, god only knows why, filled my head. As my notes said, “So fucking kool”.
I had thought at this point that I’d get in the queue to see Little Dragon. I knew they would be popular being on the radio so much and I thought I’d better get there early. The venue was Coalition, a nightclub under the road on Brighton Seafront. When I got there the crowds had already massed around the door. There was probably more people standing outside than there was space inside anyway, so I abandoned that plan, heading for Audio, mostly to get out of the wind which was still trying to take my hat.
WET at Audio
WET. A band from Brooklyn. Sighhhh. Just thinking about these guys is a bit depressing. I had been having such a good night and then this happened. It’s not that there is something wrong with them, far from it, the singer can sing, and the other people could play all their instruments and it all came together into one into a tune which wasn’t unpleasant. It just didn’t grab me. I watched the whole set trying to like it but, alas, it left me cold.
Woman’s Hour at Komedia
Nevermind, at least I knew I was going to like the next band. Back up at Komedia and I walked straight in.I was surprised. So far any band that I wanted to see, especially if they had been blessed with frequent radio play were all experiencing massive queues. Not Womans Hour. A band who ooze kool and style had quite an empty room to play to. I say empty, there were a fair few people there, I was expecting it to be heaving is all. I don’t really know what to say about them. Another woman blessed with a voice which sends shiver down your spine and melodies which back it up never overpowering this beautiful center piece to every song. Their cover of Bruce Springsteen’s Dancing in the Dark was something special. During the set I choked on a crisp (yeah, you needed to know that).
Alice Boman at The Dome Studio
It’s 11p.m. and I’m still very awake. Fortunately as the night time events finish there is another timetable of late night events to carry on partying long into the night. I took a punt on seeing Alice Boman. This was based entirely on the guide saying “Alice sings her beautifully fairytale-like songs with as much force as fragility”. After seeing Woman’s Hour that sounded like the perfect continuation. All i need to say is the guide got it spot on.
After Alice the Dome Studio suddenly started to get really busy. Who is the next band which is causing all this fuss? It was a group called The Hold Steady. I had never heard of them before but clearly they were causing a bit of a commotion. I decided to see what all the fuss was about. Good decision. The crowd was electrified. Everyone came to life. A sort of lively version of the Pixies took to the stage with the charisma of a band as experienced as The Pixies. The crowd were all singing along and even I was joining in by the second chorus, it was infectious. I wish that I hadn’t bought a drink (which is something I don’t say all that often) so I could have got into the middle of the crown and jumped about like an idiot.I could have stayed and listened to them until dawn, unfortunately sets don’t last forever.
The Hold Steady at The Dome Studio
There were a few more bands which were playing after The Hold Steady at a couple of venues, but by now it was 1 a.m. and I hadn’t eaten since half four. Subway was calling me. Once I had demolished a footlong it really was knocking on and there wasn’t much going on at all. I went back to the hostel. The great thing about Journeys is the bar downstairs. Every year I stay here and every year I spend the early hours of the morning making friends with other guests of the Hostel and their staff. In some ways it is more of a highlight of the festival than the music is. There is always a party that carries on until daylight. The Thursday night party was mostly guests who had been back for a while and they were chilling out. We ended up having long discussions about music and when Queen came on the stereo, which the guests had access to the playlist, the guy behind the bar found an apron and a wig and danced around the bar doing his best Freddy Mercury impression. I cried with laughter, we all did.
I was about to start writing a post about The Great Escape Festival, but as I was writing I kinda got into a bit of a rant about tea. So I’ve chopped and changed it about a bit. Great Escape to follow, I promise.
Lets begin at the beginning. It was a Thursday, it was overcast. I was tired and hungover. I’m lucky that I can get a direct train to Brighton, no faffing about changing in London or any of that crap, just a straight line there, sitting on the train for two hours, which turned into three because it was raining and apparently it was the wrong kind of rain. Before I even got on the train I was a little bit put out because… OK, let me explain.
Every time I get a train I stop at the little kiosk on Platform 4 to get a cup of Darjeeling. Now I’m not just saying Darjeeling as some do to mean tea I mean Darjeeling. Now I don’t use the train very often, so every time there is a new person working behind the counter and every time I have to go through the rigmarole of trying to explain to them what I mean by this strange statement of “a cup of Darjeeling, please”, especially as this time the girl behind the counter tried to palm me off with an Orangina.
A Bottle of OranginaCup of Darjeeling
I don’t mind that she doesn’t know what darjeeling is, a lot of people don’t, but when there is a box of the stuff right by your left ear (it was in a box at head height) you would have thought she could put two and two together, wouldn’t you? And wouldn’t you have thought the manager would familairised the staff with what products there is in their outlet? And even so, don’t you think Darjeeling and Orangina sound different enough to question the order? I am aware that both words have a j sound in them but so does Gerbil!
After we all figured out what everyone wanted, I wanted a hot drink and she wanted £1.30, we did have quite a pleasant chat about tea in its various forms, and she did say she would give the Darjeeling a go. Perhaps a convert to the “Champagne of teas”, possibly.
I’d like to say I may sound overly aggressive in this post but that it is because I’m shouting here and now to vent, not at the girl, who clearly had no idea.
I know what you are thinking, “Holy crap, this blog has been dormant for so long I thought you were dead!”. Well no, I’m just a crap blogger. I often can’t think of anything useful or interesting to write and when I can think of something, well… I’m just too lazy to turn the laptop on (I tried using the app on my phone and its so tedious).
I originally set up this blog to by my dumping ground for my thoughts on everything from music to food, drink and anything else I can think of. Yeah, nice idea but I just ended up prattling on about beer and not much else. If anyone has looked through the archives the last time I wrote anything about music was in 2012, and that was half way through a series of posts I was supposed to be doing about the Great Escape festival that year. As it stands there are two posts out of what should have been a total of six. Since then I’ve been to the Camden Crawl twice, twice more to the Great Escape, as well as Reading, Glastonbury, Latitude and the Secret Garden Party. And that lot is just the festivals, yet alone the gigs to see individual bands.
I am going to try and make more of an effort to actually write my thoughts down, starting off with this years great escape festival. I don’t think it’s worth trying to recall what happened at any of the other festivals between the last music post and this because it was too long ago and some of the details will have been lost to the drink addled fugg of human memory, and in any case, the camera the camera packed up last year replacing every image on the memory card with one blurry shot of a flag where I was trying to be all arty. Fail. Stay tuned for a round up of this years piss up round Brighton in way too much detail about a bunch of bands that you’re not that interested in. If you have this blog in your Feedly, Google Reader, newsBlur or any other RSS reader because you are part of the beerosphere, you probably won’t be too bothered with what I’ve got to say, for the next few posts at least. Sorry about that.
“But Looke, you haven’t posted anything at all! It was February since you posted anything at all” I hear you cry. Cry? not cry, perhaps mumble sarcastically under your breath, if you have actually read this far. Well that is true. I haven’t been walking much lately so I haven’t really had anything to post there and if I’m being honest there hasn’t been much to say about beer. I’ve been kicking around the same town, with the same pubs and the same supermarket which always stocks the same beer (I take that back they have started stocking one or two new things which have been priced so high that my fiscal situation would have to change rapidly to contemplate a 6 pack of Irish ale for £9, especially when rateBeer only gives it a 44!). Hopefully I’ll be back in the game with June’s session blog, this month being hosted by Boak and Bailey.
Feel free to badger me on Twitter and the rest if I go quiet again. I go that way out of laziness and the idea that probably no one is reading anyway.
