Last night, Simon Munnery performed the part of Queen Elizabeth the First. It was truly intense and quite magnificent. “Elizabeth and Raleigh: Late but Live” was written by the oft wonderful Stewart Lee. Although I am finding hard to rate the play as a whole, I can say that Simon Munnery was tremendous.
As the late-medieval Queen, aka Simon Munnery, white faced, and in full regal dress, bounced vigorously on a trampet, her hair went completely skew-whiff. “Now, that’s made me even angrier”, she announced whilst straightening it. Undeterred by the likelihood off it flying off altogether, she bounced even harder. Her hair looked aptly wild for the rest of the performance.
Munnery portrayed the Queen’s anger beautifully; with fierce stern eyes, harsh dialogue and fiercely sardonic cheek. Simultaneously, he managed to be quite scary and very funny. He seemed to enjoy every minute of it. Never have I seen Munnery looking so confident. He writes fantastic comedy, but perhaps is less self-conscious when performing the work of a very talented friend.
You may not know the name Simon Munnery, but those of you a little long in the teeth may remember ‘Alan Parker: Urban Warrior’ or ‘The League against Tedium’. I have had the pleasure of seeing Munnery playing various characters, including himself, on many occasions over the years, primarily in the Cabaret Tent at Glastonbury.
It was during the Brighton Comedy Festival in 2005, when I truly came to admire Munnery as cut above the best as a human being. Last night, he became that as a performer.
As he hoisted the large farthingale hoop of his dress, to prance across the stage with wonderful inelegance, I watched with great intrigue. I thought back to 2005. In the very same venue, in front of a much smaller audience, he had stood before us, with his left hand clutched awkwardly. “I’ve had testicular cancer”, he said, “I’ve had one ball removed, and, as a side effect of the treatment, my hand looks like this”.
I already felt bad. The Brighton Comedy Festival was running for just a week. Several big names were playing in different venues across town very night; there was a lot of competition. We sat in a small and mostly empty venue, and I felt Simon deserved more.
Before long Simon had turned his encounter with the devil’s disease into a comedy sketch and all was well in the world. His hand became, amongst other things, an inverse, disapproving emu, throwing scorn at its master for attacking people. It was a brief stand up routine, which explained a very apparent disability. It did its job beautifully. Then Simon moved on; or was it sideways? With Simon, it’s more often sideways.
That year, we had the great pleasure of watching Simon wearing a number of different buckets on his head. We’ll all be doing it in the near future, don’t you know. It’s how we’ll cope with the absurdities of modern life. Last night, he was Queen Elizabeth the First in sequinned Crocs.
Yes, Simon Munnery’s brain is a surrealists dream.
As for Miles Jupp, he played the straight man last night, albeit with some terribly corny puns. I thoroughly enjoyed his cloth willie and the fact he gave Munnery a brief encounter with the giggles.
Fabpants Recommends: Special Needs – Funfair and Heartbreaks. This is an old album, but one that keeps returning to the top of my recently listened to CDs. It is a work of brilliance and Mercury were idiots to drop the band in 2005. Special Needs split up in the November of that year. In 2006, Re Action Recordings Ltd released the debut posthumously. The reality of Special Needs makes me sad, but the songs make me oh so very happy.
Sunday 28 September 2008
Wednesday 24 September 2008
The Atomic Plague
"In Hiroshima, 30 days after the 1st atomic bomb destroyed the city and shook the world, people are still dying, mysteriously and horribly - people who were uninjured in the cataclysm from an unknown something which I can only describe as the atomic plague. Hiroshima does not look like a bombed city. It looks as if a monster steamroller has passed over it and squashed it out of existence. I write these facts as dispassionately as I can in the hope that they will act as a warning to the world.
In this first testing ground of the atomic bomb I have seen the most terrible and frightening desolation in four years of war. It makes a blitzed Pacific island seem like an Eden. The damage is far greater than photographs can show. When you arrive in Hiroshima you can look around for twenty-five and perhaps thirty square miles and you can see hardly a building. It gives you an empty feeling in the stomach to see such man-made destruction. I picked my way to a shack used as a temporary police headquarters in the middle of the vanished city. Looking south from there I could see about three miles of redish rubble. That is all the atomic bomb left of dozens of blocks of city streets, of buildings, homes, factories and human beings. There is just nothing standing except about twenty factory chimneys-- chimneys with no factories. A group of half a dozen gutted buildings. And then again, nothing.
The police chief of Hiroshima... ...took me to hospitals where the victims of the bomb are still being treated. In these hospitals I found people who, when the bomb fell suffered absolutely no injuries, but now are dying from the uncanny after-effects. For no apparent reason their health began to fail. They lost appetite. Their hair fell out. Bluish spots appeared on their bodies. And then bleeding began from the ears, nose, and mouth. At first, the doctors told me, they thought these were the symptoms of general debility. They gave their patients Vitamin A injections. The results were horrible. The flesh started rotting away from the hole caused by the injection of the needle. And in every case the victim died. That is one of the after-effects of the first atomic bomb man ever dropped and I do not want to see any more examples of it.
My nose detected a peculiar odour unlike anything I have ever smelled before. It is something like sulphur, but not quite. I could smell it when I passed a fire that was still smouldering, or at a spot where they were still recovering bodies from the wreckage. But I could also smell it where everything was still deserted. They believe it is given off by the poisonous gas still issuing from the earth soaked with radioactivity by the split uranium atom. And so the people of Hiroshima today are walking through the forlorn desolation of their once proud city with gauze masks over their mouths and noses. It probably does not help them physically. But it helps them mentally.
From the moment that this devastation was loosed upon Hiroshima, the people who survived have hated the white man. It is a hate, the intensity of which is almost as frightening as the bomb itself. The counted dead number 53,000. Another 30,000 are missing, which means certainly dead. In the day I have stayed in Hiroshima, 100 people have died from its effects. They were some of the 13,000 seriously injured by the explosion. These casualties might not have been as high except for a tragic mistake. The authorities thought this was just another Super-Fort raid. The plane flew over the target and dropped the parachute which carried the bomb to its explosion point. The American plane passed out of sight. The all-clear was sounded and the people of Hiroshima came out from their shelters. Almost a minute later the bomb reached the 2,000 foot altitude at which it was timed to explode- at the moment when nearly everyone in Hiroshima was in the streets.
Hundreds upon hundreds of the dead were so badly burned by the terrific heat generated by the bomb that it was not even possible to tell whether they were men or women, old or young. Of thousands of others, nearer the center of the explosion, there was no trace. The theory in Hiroshima is that the atomic heat was so great that they burned instantly to ashes- except that there were no ashes. If you could see what is left of Hiroshima, you would think that London had not been touched by bombs. The Imperial Palace, once an imposing building, is a heap of rubble three feet high ,and there is one piece of the wall. Roof, floors and everything else is dust."
Peter Buschett, Daily Express, 5th September, 1945
Fabpants Recommends: Absentee - Victory Shorts. I love Absentee. I loved Donkey Stock, I loved Schmotime and I loved Bitchstealer EP. On seeing Dan Michaelson for the first time at End of the Road, I was a little surprised. His voice has so much gravitas. It is deep, gravelly and tender. I guess I expected him to have a big burly chest and a beard to match. Donkey Stock remains my favourite, but I don’t wanna lose you.
Download MP3: Absentee - They Do It These Days (courtesy of fensepost.com)
I rode a Segway on Sunday. It was fantastic. If you want to buy me a present, the adventure model will only set you back £5,039. Hint. Hint. Oh, they are illegal to use on pavements and highways in the UK, so change the law while you're at it. Cheers.
In this first testing ground of the atomic bomb I have seen the most terrible and frightening desolation in four years of war. It makes a blitzed Pacific island seem like an Eden. The damage is far greater than photographs can show. When you arrive in Hiroshima you can look around for twenty-five and perhaps thirty square miles and you can see hardly a building. It gives you an empty feeling in the stomach to see such man-made destruction. I picked my way to a shack used as a temporary police headquarters in the middle of the vanished city. Looking south from there I could see about three miles of redish rubble. That is all the atomic bomb left of dozens of blocks of city streets, of buildings, homes, factories and human beings. There is just nothing standing except about twenty factory chimneys-- chimneys with no factories. A group of half a dozen gutted buildings. And then again, nothing.
The police chief of Hiroshima... ...took me to hospitals where the victims of the bomb are still being treated. In these hospitals I found people who, when the bomb fell suffered absolutely no injuries, but now are dying from the uncanny after-effects. For no apparent reason their health began to fail. They lost appetite. Their hair fell out. Bluish spots appeared on their bodies. And then bleeding began from the ears, nose, and mouth. At first, the doctors told me, they thought these were the symptoms of general debility. They gave their patients Vitamin A injections. The results were horrible. The flesh started rotting away from the hole caused by the injection of the needle. And in every case the victim died. That is one of the after-effects of the first atomic bomb man ever dropped and I do not want to see any more examples of it.
My nose detected a peculiar odour unlike anything I have ever smelled before. It is something like sulphur, but not quite. I could smell it when I passed a fire that was still smouldering, or at a spot where they were still recovering bodies from the wreckage. But I could also smell it where everything was still deserted. They believe it is given off by the poisonous gas still issuing from the earth soaked with radioactivity by the split uranium atom. And so the people of Hiroshima today are walking through the forlorn desolation of their once proud city with gauze masks over their mouths and noses. It probably does not help them physically. But it helps them mentally.
From the moment that this devastation was loosed upon Hiroshima, the people who survived have hated the white man. It is a hate, the intensity of which is almost as frightening as the bomb itself. The counted dead number 53,000. Another 30,000 are missing, which means certainly dead. In the day I have stayed in Hiroshima, 100 people have died from its effects. They were some of the 13,000 seriously injured by the explosion. These casualties might not have been as high except for a tragic mistake. The authorities thought this was just another Super-Fort raid. The plane flew over the target and dropped the parachute which carried the bomb to its explosion point. The American plane passed out of sight. The all-clear was sounded and the people of Hiroshima came out from their shelters. Almost a minute later the bomb reached the 2,000 foot altitude at which it was timed to explode- at the moment when nearly everyone in Hiroshima was in the streets.
Hundreds upon hundreds of the dead were so badly burned by the terrific heat generated by the bomb that it was not even possible to tell whether they were men or women, old or young. Of thousands of others, nearer the center of the explosion, there was no trace. The theory in Hiroshima is that the atomic heat was so great that they burned instantly to ashes- except that there were no ashes. If you could see what is left of Hiroshima, you would think that London had not been touched by bombs. The Imperial Palace, once an imposing building, is a heap of rubble three feet high ,and there is one piece of the wall. Roof, floors and everything else is dust."
Peter Buschett, Daily Express, 5th September, 1945
Fabpants Recommends: Absentee - Victory Shorts. I love Absentee. I loved Donkey Stock, I loved Schmotime and I loved Bitchstealer EP. On seeing Dan Michaelson for the first time at End of the Road, I was a little surprised. His voice has so much gravitas. It is deep, gravelly and tender. I guess I expected him to have a big burly chest and a beard to match. Donkey Stock remains my favourite, but I don’t wanna lose you.
Download MP3: Absentee - They Do It These Days (courtesy of fensepost.com)
I rode a Segway on Sunday. It was fantastic. If you want to buy me a present, the adventure model will only set you back £5,039. Hint. Hint. Oh, they are illegal to use on pavements and highways in the UK, so change the law while you're at it. Cheers.
Sunday 21 September 2008
Festival Review: Music Blogs Are So Nerdy
It’s End of the Road Festival. Shh! This is not a place to utter words during a live performance. If you dare, you will invoke scorn. Scorn is very scary. Stay quiet and watch the music nerds. They stand almost still with eyes agog. Between sets, they make scrawling notes about how each song compared to its rare counterpart on a LP in ’97 or an EP circa 2001. End of the Road is a music festival for musos.
I’m borderline muso. Three things save me from going full-blown. The first is laziness, the second is scattergun attention disorder and the third is an appalling memory. I also like to bounce.
I started writing this piece on Tuesday evening, whilst boiling potatoes. It’s now Friday. That might explain the household phrase “You’ve left the hob on again”.
End of the Road 2008 seems like an eon ago. There were peacocks. There were enchanted woods. There was disco flooring. There were fairy lights. There was a haunted piano. There was rummikub, and rummikub teachings. There was a cinema tent playing Man on Wire and Future Shorts. There was clay modelling. There was comedy. There were break dancing classes. There was music. Most importantly, there were nerds. Nerds; not geeks. There is a difference. My Geek was there too. There was one geek in a sea of nerds.
I love End of the Road in so many ways. For starters, it reminds me of The Luminaire in Kentish Town and I love that venue. A part of me hates to face the reality, but here it comes. End of the Road 2008 travelled too far down the placid folk, drab Americana path. Next year, it’s not for me. There you go, I’ve said it. It was more fun in 2007.
The best bands, ApaTt and Zombie Zombie, didn’t play until the festival slipped out its last wet fart. Whilst hunting down a toilet that wasn’t overflowing, I missed one of the best acts of the weekend. You’ll note Zombie Zombie are not listed below. Really, the facilities were awful all Sunday and I was cold, tired and desperate.
Interspersed between the twiddle-dee-dees and twiddle-dee-dums, there should have been bands like ApaTt and Zombie Zombie on every day, throughout the day; innovative and brilliant bands with salty spunk or dreamy brilliance.
There should have been King Creosote, XXTeens, Slow Club, Soko, Bearsuit, Clinic and Misty’s Big Adventure; bands that set your brain on fire or make your tummy tingle. To curate is to make a beautiful dream come true, to inspire, to entertain and to stir that which lies deep within. End of the Road was a festival cobbled together with two years worth of leftovers. Or maybe it was three; I wasn’t there in 2006.
None of the music was bad, but far too little was inspirational. None of nerds were bad, but even they let the drunkards talk too much.
The Bimble Inn was a place to love. I loved watching nerds in The Bimble Inn. The Bimble Inn had lost nothing since 2007.
As usual the acts are rated as follows, from very best to very worst:
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
(number) = number of songs seen when full set not seen (sometimes approximate)
While there are a few ‘Fucking Awesome’ ratings, they are hard to compare with their counterparts at other festivals. Apart from ApaTt and Sennen, that is. I wish Pete and the Pirates had played at Bestival. It would have been more fun. I think that the placid folk and drab Americana had killed the audience’s ability to bounce, or perhaps they were too busy comparing the live versions to rare demos.
Friday, 12th September
Saturday, 13th September
Sunday, 14th September
Fabpants Recommends: I really missed seeing these guys at End of the Road this year. I will see them soon though.
Download MP3: I’m From Barcelona – Music Killed Me
Yes, it did take me until Sunday to complete this post.
I’m borderline muso. Three things save me from going full-blown. The first is laziness, the second is scattergun attention disorder and the third is an appalling memory. I also like to bounce.
I started writing this piece on Tuesday evening, whilst boiling potatoes. It’s now Friday. That might explain the household phrase “You’ve left the hob on again”.
End of the Road 2008 seems like an eon ago. There were peacocks. There were enchanted woods. There was disco flooring. There were fairy lights. There was a haunted piano. There was rummikub, and rummikub teachings. There was a cinema tent playing Man on Wire and Future Shorts. There was clay modelling. There was comedy. There were break dancing classes. There was music. Most importantly, there were nerds. Nerds; not geeks. There is a difference. My Geek was there too. There was one geek in a sea of nerds.
I love End of the Road in so many ways. For starters, it reminds me of The Luminaire in Kentish Town and I love that venue. A part of me hates to face the reality, but here it comes. End of the Road 2008 travelled too far down the placid folk, drab Americana path. Next year, it’s not for me. There you go, I’ve said it. It was more fun in 2007.
The best bands, ApaTt and Zombie Zombie, didn’t play until the festival slipped out its last wet fart. Whilst hunting down a toilet that wasn’t overflowing, I missed one of the best acts of the weekend. You’ll note Zombie Zombie are not listed below. Really, the facilities were awful all Sunday and I was cold, tired and desperate.
Interspersed between the twiddle-dee-dees and twiddle-dee-dums, there should have been bands like ApaTt and Zombie Zombie on every day, throughout the day; innovative and brilliant bands with salty spunk or dreamy brilliance.
There should have been King Creosote, XXTeens, Slow Club, Soko, Bearsuit, Clinic and Misty’s Big Adventure; bands that set your brain on fire or make your tummy tingle. To curate is to make a beautiful dream come true, to inspire, to entertain and to stir that which lies deep within. End of the Road was a festival cobbled together with two years worth of leftovers. Or maybe it was three; I wasn’t there in 2006.
None of the music was bad, but far too little was inspirational. None of nerds were bad, but even they let the drunkards talk too much.
The Bimble Inn was a place to love. I loved watching nerds in The Bimble Inn. The Bimble Inn had lost nothing since 2007.
As usual the acts are rated as follows, from very best to very worst:
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
(number) = number of songs seen when full set not seen (sometimes approximate)
While there are a few ‘Fucking Awesome’ ratings, they are hard to compare with their counterparts at other festivals. Apart from ApaTt and Sennen, that is. I wish Pete and the Pirates had played at Bestival. It would have been more fun. I think that the placid folk and drab Americana had killed the audience’s ability to bounce, or perhaps they were too busy comparing the live versions to rare demos.
Friday, 12th September
| Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin, Garden Stage | Thumbs Up |
| Cats in Paris, Big Top | Thumbs Up |
| Christopher Rees, Bimble Inn | Thumbs Up |
| Lonely Ghosts, Bimble Inn | Thumbs Up |
| A Hawk and A Hacksaw (2), Garden Stage | Hideously Awful |
| Clare and the Reasons | Ear Candy |
| Peter and the Wolf, Big Top | Not For Me Thanks |
| Laura Marling, Big Top | Thumbs Up |
| Alessi (2), The Local | Thumbs Up |
| Robyn Hitchcock | Ear Candy |
| One Little Plane (2), The Local | Thumbs Up |
Conor Obert and The Mystic Valley Band, Garden Stage | Ear Candy |
Saturday, 13th September
| Absentee, Garden Stage | Fucking Awesome |
| Bowerbirds (2), Garden Stage | Thumbs Up |
| Devon Sproule, Garden Stage | Thumbs Up |
| Noah and The Whale, Garden Stage | Fucking Awesome |
| Thingumajig*saw, Bimble Inn | Ear Candy |
| Pete and the Pirates, Big Top | Fucking Awesome |
| Friska Viljor, Bimble Inn | Fucking Awesome |
| The Accidental, Bimble Inn | Ear Candy |
| Sennen, The Local | Fucking Awesome |
| The Chap (2), The Local | Ear Candy |
| Two Gallants (2), Big Top | Not For Me Thanks |
| Mercury Rev (1= Holes), Garden Stage | Fucking Awesome, but had no interest in other songs |
Sunday, 14th September
| BB and The Dead Dog, Bimble Inn | Ear Candy |
| The Wave Pictures, Garden Stage | Ear Candy |
| The Gentle Good, Bimble Inn | Ear Candy |
| Wood Pigeon (2), Garden Stage | Not For Me Thanks |
| Hey Negrita, Bimble Inn | Ear Candy |
| Darren and Jack Play Hefner Songs, Big Top | Fucking Awesome |
| Jeffrey Lewis, Big Top | Thumbs Up |
| Calexico, Garden Stage | Ear Candy |
| ApaTt, The Local | Fucking Awesome |
| Two Gallants (2), Big Top | No For Me Thanks |
Fabpants Recommends: I really missed seeing these guys at End of the Road this year. I will see them soon though.
Download MP3: I’m From Barcelona – Music Killed Me
Yes, it did take me until Sunday to complete this post.
Wednesday 10 September 2008
Drinking Blood-Stained Water Out of The Reservoir
"Between the Red Cross Hospital and the center of the city I saw nothing that wasn't burned to a crisp. Streetcars were standing at Kawaya-cho and Kamiya-cho and inside were dozens of bodies, blackened beyond recognition. I saw fire reservoirs filled to the brim with dead people who looked as though they had been boiled alive. In one reservoir I saw a man, horribly burned, crouching beside another man who was dead. He was drinking blood-stained water out of the reservoir. Even if I had tried to stop him, it wouldn't have done any good; he was completely out of his head.”
From Michihiko Hachiya, Hiroshima Diary: The Journal of a Japanese Physician August 6-September 30, 1945
Fabpants Recommends: Ballboy - I Worked on the Ships. Here we have an old Peel favourite with a new brilliant album. This album makes me want to listen to its younger brother. The CD case sits on the shelf and stares at me, but I’m too scared to touch. I have a feeling that ‘I Worked on the Ships’ will make ‘A Guide for the Daylight Hours’ sound like the work of a toddler that’s just wet himself in the sandpit. Of course, I loved ‘A Guide for the Daylight Hours’, but this 2008 release smells, tastes and sounds perfect. It’s beautiful, funny, melancholy and heart-warming. It makes me want to hug myself.
“I lie awake
Half-blind, half-drunk, in a half-religious daze
And think about
The life I had, the life I had before I made
Songs for Kylie”
By the way, both Laura Marling and Lonely Ghosts are playing End of the Road Festival. I hope that they meet. Tom Denney of Lonely Ghosts was once in a great band called Help She Can't Swim. Did the indie riot kids pre-empt Laura by announcing her poor water mobility first? Yes, Laura Marling's debut is called 'Alas I Cannot Swim'. But you knew that.
From Michihiko Hachiya, Hiroshima Diary: The Journal of a Japanese Physician August 6-September 30, 1945
Fabpants Recommends: Ballboy - I Worked on the Ships. Here we have an old Peel favourite with a new brilliant album. This album makes me want to listen to its younger brother. The CD case sits on the shelf and stares at me, but I’m too scared to touch. I have a feeling that ‘I Worked on the Ships’ will make ‘A Guide for the Daylight Hours’ sound like the work of a toddler that’s just wet himself in the sandpit. Of course, I loved ‘A Guide for the Daylight Hours’, but this 2008 release smells, tastes and sounds perfect. It’s beautiful, funny, melancholy and heart-warming. It makes me want to hug myself.
“I lie awake
Half-blind, half-drunk, in a half-religious daze
And think about
The life I had, the life I had before I made
Songs for Kylie”
By the way, both Laura Marling and Lonely Ghosts are playing End of the Road Festival. I hope that they meet. Tom Denney of Lonely Ghosts was once in a great band called Help She Can't Swim. Did the indie riot kids pre-empt Laura by announcing her poor water mobility first? Yes, Laura Marling's debut is called 'Alas I Cannot Swim'. But you knew that.
Tuesday 9 September 2008
Festival Review: Fuck You; I’m Not What You Called Me
Yesterday I reached a new low. I got called ‘sir’ in Holland and Barrett. Yes, a new low.
It’s odd, but I never really minded when I got mistaken for a boy up until my late 20s. Being mistaken for a ‘sir’ is bad though. Something must be very wrong. Really, I must go for laser treatment, get a boob job or wear skirts. Please don’t make me wear skirts. Supersize those boobs now.
Bestival Festival faced the leftovers of Hurricane Gustav. It was windy, it rained. Then it rained a lot more. Then it rained. Then it rained some more. Did I mention rain? There was a lot of that. The comedy tent shut for the weekend. The BBC Introducing stage was like a revolving door; it didn’t know whether it was open or shut. Sadly, it was shut more often than it was open.
The Band Stand electrical equipment got wet and someone said ‘Do you think this is dangerous?’ Even the Main Stage opened several hours later than planned. A rainy Bestival put Michael Eavis’ efforts in perspective. For someone that loves music and comedy, there were too many disappointing cancellations.
Robin Hill Country Park is a superb setting for a festival. There’s a tower for spotting red squirrels, tarmac walks through pretty woodland, an African themed adventure play park, a real permanent shop, a real cafe, ponds filled with water lilies, and slides that run down steep hills.
After parting with £3, I got to go on a toboggan ride. I’ve never been on a toboggan ride before. It was rather strange. There is no strap to hold you in and you control the speed by holding a big rod between your legs. I’m not quite sure I can compare it to Nemesis at Alton Towers, but my eyes watered with joy.
Other Bestival highlights included being in charge of a giant letter ‘I’. I helped make a penis whole, changed a duck into a dick and delved deep into a pair of tits. I'm sorry to say that I didn’t make it inside a vagina.
Within the same hour, on a different part of the site, I became part of a conveyor belt during an amazing set by my favourite band ever: Misty’s Big Adventure.
As usual the acts are rated as follows, from very best to very worst:
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
(number) = number of songs seen when full set not seen (sometimes approximate)
Thursday 4th September
Friday, 5th September
Saturday, 6th September
Sunday, 7th September
Fabpants Recommends: Live music for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And for the finale, a good night’s sleep. Coming to a bed near me. Oh yeah, baby. Sleep.
It’s odd, but I never really minded when I got mistaken for a boy up until my late 20s. Being mistaken for a ‘sir’ is bad though. Something must be very wrong. Really, I must go for laser treatment, get a boob job or wear skirts. Please don’t make me wear skirts. Supersize those boobs now.
Bestival Festival faced the leftovers of Hurricane Gustav. It was windy, it rained. Then it rained a lot more. Then it rained. Then it rained some more. Did I mention rain? There was a lot of that. The comedy tent shut for the weekend. The BBC Introducing stage was like a revolving door; it didn’t know whether it was open or shut. Sadly, it was shut more often than it was open.
The Band Stand electrical equipment got wet and someone said ‘Do you think this is dangerous?’ Even the Main Stage opened several hours later than planned. A rainy Bestival put Michael Eavis’ efforts in perspective. For someone that loves music and comedy, there were too many disappointing cancellations.
Robin Hill Country Park is a superb setting for a festival. There’s a tower for spotting red squirrels, tarmac walks through pretty woodland, an African themed adventure play park, a real permanent shop, a real cafe, ponds filled with water lilies, and slides that run down steep hills.
After parting with £3, I got to go on a toboggan ride. I’ve never been on a toboggan ride before. It was rather strange. There is no strap to hold you in and you control the speed by holding a big rod between your legs. I’m not quite sure I can compare it to Nemesis at Alton Towers, but my eyes watered with joy.
Other Bestival highlights included being in charge of a giant letter ‘I’. I helped make a penis whole, changed a duck into a dick and delved deep into a pair of tits. I'm sorry to say that I didn’t make it inside a vagina.
Within the same hour, on a different part of the site, I became part of a conveyor belt during an amazing set by my favourite band ever: Misty’s Big Adventure.
As usual the acts are rated as follows, from very best to very worst:
Fucking Awesome, Ear Candy, Thumbs Up, Not for Me Thanks, Hideously Awful
(number) = number of songs seen when full set not seen (sometimes approximate)
Thursday 4th September
| Slow Club, Resident Records Brighton | Fucking Awesome |
Friday, 5th September
| The Shortwave Set, Xbox Social | Ear Candy |
| Ebony Bones, Big Top | Thumbs Up |
| Foals, Main Stage | Ear Candy |
| Santagold, Big Top | Thumbs Up |
| The Melodica, The Melody & Me | Thumbs Up |
| CSS, Big Top | Thumbs Up |
| Peyoti For President, Club Da Da | Not for Me Thanks |
| Cancelled Bands, Everywhere | Hideously Awful |
Saturday, 6th September
| Laura Marling, Main Stage | Fucking Awesome |
| Fresh Legs, BBC Introducing | Fucking Awesome |
| I am Kloot, Big Top (4) | Fucking Awesome |
| dan le sac Vs Scroobius Pip, Main Stage | Fucking Awesome |
| The Cuban Brothers, Main Stage | Fucking Awesome |
| The Duke Spirit, BBC Introducing (2) | Thumbs Up |
| Kid Carpet, Red Bull | Fucking Awesome |
| Tofu Love Frogs, Club Da Da | Not for Me Thanks |
| Jeffrey Lewis, BBC Introducing | Ear Candy |
| Slagmalsklubben, Big Top | Ear Candy |
| Manouschska, Band Stand | Thumbs Up |
| XXTeens, Club Da Da | Ear Candy |
| DJ Yoda Vs Shlomo (live AV show) | Ear Candy |
| Hot Chip, Main Stage | Fucking Awesome |
| Amy Winehouse, Main Stage (5) | Ear Candy |
| Lethal Bizzle, Red Bull (1) | Ear Candy |
Sunday, 7th September
| The Fairey Band, Main Stage | Fucking Awesome |
| King Creosote, Main Stage | Fucking Awesome |
| Thomas Tantrum, BBC Introducing | Ear Candy |
| Six Nation State, BBC Introducing | Fucking Awesome |
| Lucky Elephant, Band Stand | Thumbs Up |
| Baaba Maal, Main Stage | Thumbs Up |
| Misty Big Adventure, Band Stand | Fucking Awesome to Infinity |
| Zombie Zombie, BBC Introducing | Fucking Awesome |
| Gideon Conn, BBC Introducing | Ear Candy |
| Midnight Juggernauts, Big Top | Thumbs Up |
| The Guillotines, BBC Introducing | Thumbs Up |
| Urban Voodoo Machine, Club Da Da | Not for Me Thanks |
| The Bees, BBC Introducing | Ear Candy |
Fabpants Recommends: Live music for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And for the finale, a good night’s sleep. Coming to a bed near me. Oh yeah, baby. Sleep.
Tuesday 2 September 2008
Bestival 2008 Clashfinder or The Duvet’s On Fire, So Is Your Hair
I couldn’t find a Bestival 2008 Clashfinder, so I made my own rough and ready version. Feel free to download and print it. Please don’t blame me for any lack of perfection. Do let me know if there are any hideous errors. Cheers.
Bestival 2008 Friday Line Up
Bestival 2008 Saturday Line Up
Bestival 2008 Sunday Line Up
The full list of stages and acts has not been released yet. Bestival wants more of my money for their programme; the mean bastards. I would buy a programme anyway, but carrying around an A4 sheet that I don't mind making a mess of is preferable, for weight and convenience.
I have great plans to see Slow Club at an in-store show tomorrow. Okay, I've already seen them twice this year, up close and personal, but I want more. More!
Fabpants Recommends:
Three Bestival 2008 Artists (with names that start with L)
Le Volume Courbe - Charlotte Marionneau sings sweet twee songs, reminiscent of Isobel Campbell and Nico. Sometimes the soft twang of a shy unimposing guitar, and the deep sob of a mournful harmonica, add a country feel.
Download MP3: Le Volume Courbe – Freight Train (courtesy of bibabidi.net).
Lucky Elephant.
This band makes wistful, melodic music to fuck with your mind. Their songs make me happy and sad at the same time. They take me on a very lovely journey. Needless to say, the first cut of The Crimea's 'Tragedy Rocks' may never be bettered in this regard. Dark lyrics contrast with pretty music. If you want to see my happy side, better tell me that my girl just died.
Download MP3: Let’s Wrestle - I Won’t Lie To You (courtesy of acertainromance.com).
This is a perfect little gem of a tune. It bounces, tells a story and is bleak. You don’t need to be pitch perfect to make a great tune. This song really does sound like it was made in a garage, one with a very dead car and some gnarly battered instruments in it. Okay, it’s a terrible tune, but terrible is sometimes good, especially when the lyrics contribute so well to my subject header.
Bestival 2008 Friday Line Up
Bestival 2008 Saturday Line Up
Bestival 2008 Sunday Line Up
The full list of stages and acts has not been released yet. Bestival wants more of my money for their programme; the mean bastards. I would buy a programme anyway, but carrying around an A4 sheet that I don't mind making a mess of is preferable, for weight and convenience.
I have great plans to see Slow Club at an in-store show tomorrow. Okay, I've already seen them twice this year, up close and personal, but I want more. More!
Fabpants Recommends:
Three Bestival 2008 Artists (with names that start with L)
Le Volume Courbe - Charlotte Marionneau sings sweet twee songs, reminiscent of Isobel Campbell and Nico. Sometimes the soft twang of a shy unimposing guitar, and the deep sob of a mournful harmonica, add a country feel.
Download MP3: Le Volume Courbe – Freight Train (courtesy of bibabidi.net).
Lucky Elephant.
This band makes wistful, melodic music to fuck with your mind. Their songs make me happy and sad at the same time. They take me on a very lovely journey. Needless to say, the first cut of The Crimea's 'Tragedy Rocks' may never be bettered in this regard. Dark lyrics contrast with pretty music. If you want to see my happy side, better tell me that my girl just died.
Download MP3: Let’s Wrestle - I Won’t Lie To You (courtesy of acertainromance.com).
This is a perfect little gem of a tune. It bounces, tells a story and is bleak. You don’t need to be pitch perfect to make a great tune. This song really does sound like it was made in a garage, one with a very dead car and some gnarly battered instruments in it. Okay, it’s a terrible tune, but terrible is sometimes good, especially when the lyrics contribute so well to my subject header.
