Good Shit: Great Escape 2012
Brain. Not. Feel. Right. You may have noticed that we’ve been a bit quiet on the blogging front for the last few days. That’s because for those few days we’ve been getting busy living (and dying, or at least now we are) at our own musical Mecca that is The Great Escape festival in Brighton. We did some things. We saw some bands. We drank an awful, awful amount of booze. We completely forgot those compilation CDs in London that we spent hours making on Wednesday night, so do just get in touch if you’d like one and we’ll sort sommat out. We got slapped right in the face by an A&R Manager called Harry outside a fish and chip shop at 3am who we had spoken to before over emails but had never physically met before. We watched some more bands. We ended up at the Queen’s Hotel far too much. We got slept upon (on the shoulder, we didn’t actually mind too much) by a senior booking agent at a reptuable London-based firm and played with his hair whilst he was doing so, much to everyone else’s amusement. We watched the sun rise three times in a row. Somehow, in between all this, we ran an all-day stage on the Friday which, despite commencing in a waking-up-still-pissed-mode, resulted in being one of the best days of our lives, in no small part due to our excellent friends, performing acts, DJs and co-promoters being just that, and the weather being gloriously sunny against all the odds. Our one regret over this stint was in fact that we didn’t have more time to max and relax with all our buddies old and new – but hey, there’s always a next time and the rest of our lives generally. While we’ll have a far-more professional reading ensemble for you guys real soon by way of an actual review by our actual live reviewer Georgina, here’s our annual thing by which we just lift some unedited ramblings we’ve found on our iPhone whilst we were watching six live performances (which weren’t on our own stage – that would be cheating somewhat) that apparently made quite the impression on us. Here we go, in no particular order…
The Lost Souls Club
Queen’s Hotel Basement, 12/05/12
I can’t believe I just got fucking rinsed for £11 for two pints. Where the fuck is this anyway, Paris? Thankfully they are not charging me to use the loo otherwise it’s pure game over. Need to sit down. Mischa [Pearlman] wants to watch these guys up close though. Bumped into them on our way to find tinnies to attend to on the beach. Or rather Mischa knows them and I’m just tagging along because given how emotionally vulnerable I am on account of booze I really shouldn’t be alone right now. Loving this bluesy rock and roll thing these guys are doing. It’s dark and melodic. Bit like me last night. More like Queens Of The Stone Age, Bookhouse Boys, John J Presley, Dead Confederate. What the hell is that smell? My kingdom for a bar of phone signal. Just one bar. Bar.
This may be the one and only time I’ve used this delegate’s pass. Queue outside is insane. I feel bad for the normies but at the same time I’m glad this wristband/laminate thingy has actually come in useful at least once. Damn good timing too. Getting nippy outside, my jeans keep slipping down my already-questionable waist-line, and I need a wee. It’s Jeremy’s [Lloyd] round as well. Yay. Not seen Theme Park before despite wanting to. They look about 12. Well, the one I can actually see through the sea of bodies and really-not-usefully-placed looks about 12. I can dig it though; got a bit of wall to lean on and I can show off my dance moves to Chris [Duncan]. Damn I dance real good to indie rock. Wish I could play guitar. Actually I wish I could play guitar and be 12. Shit it’s my round.Can Theme Park buy beer?
Above Audio, 10/05/12
Really shouldn’t be drinking this much. Got a stage tomorrow. Gotta be sharp. Chris is buying though. Devin sounds tres punk’n’roll. Shame I can’t actually see anything. The world’s largest men have decided to set up shop in front of me and I’m stood in the thoroughfare. No way I’m gonna get to the loo through this crowd. Will use the one in the venue underneath this one. I’m so bloody clever.
Not entirely sure how I’m still doing this. I shouldn’t be awake. Super tired after Jeah! – that was a good 12 hours on my feet. I can’t feel my feet. Although my feet are dancing a bit to St Lucia. The frontman has got a strong look. It’s like Kurt Russell and Caleb from Kings Of Leon had a secret love child who got mad into Reel Big Fish and borrowed one of their flowery shirts. Need to sit down.
The Hope, 12/05/12
That KFC was necessary. Technically it being the afternoon that’s okay in culinary-timing terms. Most of Brighton seemed to have the exact same idea at the exact same time. Clever bastards. It is ridiculously hot in here. Jeremy is wearing a woolly jumper. Silly Jeremy. Is it Jeremy’s round? Caught a bit of The Big Sleep just now; head-nodding vibes. Whilst watching Hey Sholay for the first time I realise that it could be me and my buddies on stage right now, given that the stage manager came up to us and said “now would be a good time to go on”. He thinks we’re a band, mainly as we’re sat where all the bands have parked all their gear. We should form a band. The band should be called “Ach Is Sexy”. We will be incredible and play only 30 second songs with the NOFX drum beat and just whoaaaaaah all the time like The Misfits. Hey Sholay are getting off to a flying start. I wonder where they’re from. Jeremy reckons they’re northern. There is an awful lot of feedback coming from the PA but that’s okay; they’re still good. Got to go. Too hot. Why is there never any fucking phone signal?
Sticky Mike’s Frog Bar, 13/05/12
It’s 3am. 3. A. M. Got to be out of Brighton by 11am and the sun is already coming up. Still, wanna see Palma Violets. Jeremy’s here. Moodie is here. It’s all good. This all feels a bit Libertines. Stage interaction between the two front guys is so similar on the Pete and Carl wavelength. This has got to be [omitted due to incoherence]. Need water. Gotta go.
Jeremy Lloyd for buying so many rounds and actually falling asleep on his feet at one of the above gigs.
Joe Parry for being shat on by a seagull and still making it to our Jeah! stage.
Jen Anderson, Mike Bradford and Andy Willers for not being angry with us for forgetting the CDs and generally allowing us to be stupid for a sizeable proportion of the Friday.
Cara Dattani and Dan Bridge for being the ultimate film crew.
Intern Adam for being a dude.
Chris Fraser and Ben Ryder-Smith for being additional dudes.
Mischa Pearlman for hearing our sob stories and generally being a goddamn hero.
Draper for dancing to his own DJ set on the dancefloor.
Andy Ritchie for generally just being him.
Chris Duncan and The Orchard crew for making us look cool.
Anyone/anything else we’ve forgotten.