Skip The Budgie

So last weekend, I went down to the Colston Hall Opening shindig and worked doing a bit of stewarding for Andy Sheppard's Sax Massive, conducted by Orphy Robinson. My job was to help the lovely lady YolanDa Brown up onto a precarious platform and not drop her beautiful saxophone in the process.

So there I am, passing up some improbably high-heeled shoes to this lady and I'm told She's really famous you know?. I didn't know! We had a laugh anyway. I'm not really up to date with current Jazz stars! Ah well. Her playing is absolutely stunning though, full of vibrance and passion, even in the weird avante-jazz bits.

The actual piece - well, the sound of 200 saxophones meandering around an African Jazz tune and severely atmospheric soloist jousting over sustained chords was really impressive. Orphy seemed to have absolute control over the musicians and of course Andy Sheppard had to finish up with a display of circular breathing that had everybody mesmerised.

After the saxes, there was some aerial stuff from Cirque Bijou with an amazing group of beatboxers, led by world champion beatboxer Bellatrix. They were awesome, very RnB oriented but I guess that's to be expected.

A group of Dohldrummers led the saxophones and audience round the building back into the foyer for the rest of the evening's entertainment, which included a 100 guitar massive! Sadly, Dash had an appointment with a big pie and couldn't stay.

Here's a video of the saxes anyway, there are surprisingly few photos out on the internet, considering the number of photographers who were there!

It's the last day and I groggily haul myself off to the shower at about 8:30 in the am. Disaster strikes! It appears that the whole field next door has heard about our nice shower and has been using it so much that the tank has over-flowed and it is all locked up. I have to wait until the water has been drained away, then find the Keeper of the Key to get clean.

Once I am clean and fed, I grab a friend and venture out into the colourful fields to start the final day...

SUNDAY

Easy Star All-Stars

Sergeant Pepper's Lone-
-Ly Hearts Club Band, we hope you
Have enjoyed the show.

Not really, guys - Dub side of the Moon and Radiodread were amazing, but this is just crap! Even here, where they love this sort of thing... This Beatles Reggae just doesn't work.

Status Quo

Whatever you want,
Old men rock out their classics
Lazing in the sun.

Amadou et Mariam

Third time for me now,
The music suits the sunshine
All relaxed and smiles.

Orquesta Aragon (Cubans)

Synchronised salsa
Is it creepy or well done?
I forget the moves.

Madness

The top of the hill
And 2-Tone Madness prevails
The field is jumping

Nick Cave

He's a bit boring
Very shouty and tuneless
But Ade thinks he's great.

Pronghorn

Some mad punk fellas
Their children playing along
Mostly Entertaining

Fire Show

Tonight the whole show seems to work like clockwork, I avoid getting flamed in the face and even the big lit-up heart at the end works. The crowd is huge, too.

Black Eyed Peas

They shout boom boom pow
Not good like they used to be
Too dancey, less rap.

Mundo Jazz

A mixed bag of nuts
Ingenious comedy
Oh look, here's the rain.

And it really does pour. The amazing Mundo Jazz play on our stage until about 1:30am, then the second they announce that it's the end of the festival, the heavens open and we all run for cover. We head to the Green Room for the last night's celebrations. There is a band called Kangaroo Moon playing a kind of crazy psychedelic folk rock dance music to a frantic and appreciative crowd, desperately trying not to think about going home tomorrow.

The sun is out this morning, we are welcomed into the day with Michael Jackson jokes and tributes and a nice fry-up. I venture out into the world after breakfast while waiting for the rest of the gang to rise.

SATURDAY

Siyaya

African dancing
Telling confusing stories
With a great soundtrack

Tinariwen

Nomadic blues rock,
A perfect desert soundtrack
For sun-drenched hippies.

Spinal Tap

A tiny Stonehenge
and ladies with big bottoms
with midgets to laugh at

Rokia Traore

North African Soul
With a little bit of Jazz
A gentle groove for lunchtime.

The Futureheads

On our tiny stage
For nuclear awareness
Big shouty noise pop.

There is a little hiatus while we wait for the Great Tony Benn to turn up and speak on our stage. Well I say 'wait', he's already here, drinking tea backstage but we are waiting for Ed Byrne, who's supposed to be before him. As the crowd is so big we employ Marcus Brigstocke, who thins out the numbers hugely after the Futureheads so Mr Benn doesn't get too intimidated.

After Marcus we are 'treated' to an Important Song about guns and knife crime, sung by some young, ethnically correct young kids who are stoked to be on stage at Glastonbury. The young black lad raps, the asian girl warbles and the white girl sings. It is awful and cringe-worthy, which is what you expect from these sorts of campaigns I guess. They stand near us as the honourable Mr Benn speaks, chatting loudly in inner city accents about how wicked and terrifying it was to sing in front of all these people.

Ed Byrne (when he eventually arrives) is funny. I 'fail' to call out when he asks who has got married recently, then smile wryly to myself as he proceeds to describe the worst wedding clichés imaginable

Lisa Hannigan

Girl in a big tent
Singing incoherently
The colour is red.

Lonnie Liston Smith

A funk soul legend
But too-cheesy soul should get
Down to the Backstreets

Eliza Carthy

Bizarre Eclectic
Cabaret folk reggae jazz
The crowd is jumping

Baaba Maal

African Legend
Makes everyone jumpy, but
We have to go work

Fire Show

Tonight the show is smoother; the frightening giant bird follows me a little better, I save a small child from facial re-constructive surgery, the elephant makes it into the ring, to drive about the place aimlessly while the fire swingers do their thing. The circus field still fail to attract the crowds at the end, but there is one night to go to get it right. Finishing at midnight, we run to the top of the pyramid field to catch the end of The Boss.

Bruce Springsteen

Dancing in the Dark
Is the only song I know
Huge crowd is steaming

The Guns of Navarrone

Heaving and Jumping
Monkey Monkey Monkey Man
The beer flows freely.

Pronghorn

More mental ska-punk
A feelgood comedy band
I sleep on sofas.

The rain continues all night, I hold it in as long as I can but at 0900 I have to run for it. Still, I'm up in time for breakfast and get to have a nice hot shower. No-one believes that Michael Jackson is dead. I usually have big plans for each day, the clashfinder helping me to decide what is possible, but there are only a few things I'm excited about today. Lamb. Steel Pulse. Regina Spector.

FRIDAY

Bath Tub Ceilidh Band

Good morning they sing,
Playing Archer's-themed folk dance;
Small child is happy.

Gabriella Cilmi

Ears dripping red blood,
Her shrieking is most painful.
Quick, run to the pub!¹

Ash Mandrake

Leatherbound guitars
Breeds a three-headed monster,
This man is too strange.

Regina Spector

The sun appears once
For nice piano melodies
Adz isn't impressed.²

Red Snapper

Cold beer and sunshine
Syncopating live dance hits,
Old tunes beat new ones.

Hot 8 Brass Band

It's an accident
and a crowd pleasing surprise
Is the souzaphone.

Lamb

Emotions run wild
Though the speakers can't take it
Lamb make people weep.³

Steel Pulse

Reggae reggae dub
Dub dub reggae dub rastaman
They're from the Midlands!⁴

Fire Show

The last band on our stage is Eternal Taal, who are a great dance band with lots of drumming, playing banghra versions of everything, including a bit of Michael Jackson, natch.

Tonight it is our actual dress rehearsal. First we have the crazy Eddie Egal, who has the usual enormous flames, nearly naked ladies and fiery chainsaws. and fireworks. I manage to get myself assigned to the Garuda bird and my job is to walk in front of it after the fireworks, guiding it through the crowd and keeping them away from it's pecking beak. Oh and it breathes sparks about 4 metres in front of it, so I have to have eyes in the back my head too! Tonight though, they just go where they like and I have to run into the crowd shouting, because the bird isn't heading for the gap we'd created...

Some madness ensues, involving human Catherine wheels, fire swingers and more huge flames. The elephant gets stuck in the crowd and can't join in the fun. Then people with flamethrowers lead, or rather scare the crowd down to a man in a gyroscope who sets himself on fire.

After the show we wander down to Trash City which is utterly heaving. I can almost take my feet of the ground and let the crowd carry me through. We run away to the backstage bar.

Glenn Tilbrook

A theatre bar fave
The freaks are all raving hard
Glenn, take me, I'm yours?

Yes, so I could go on and on about how this was the best Pilton Pop Festival for a long time, give you a long boring essay for each day detailing my every crazy move, the nice hot showers, great food, mad people, awesome fire...

But it has been a month already, and what a month! Weddings, holidays, DIY, gardens¹, so I will leave it as a long music review, with the bands I managed to actually see reviewed in some form of clumsy haiku.

THURSDAY

Charlene Soraia

A song about space,
Stuffy tent hushed and brooding,
Rain drips in my beer.

The Gentle Good

He sings about Jane,
But the strings are too quiet,
Finger-picking good?

Interlude

Later we attempt a rehearsal of the festival fire show, so we know what's going to be happening tomorrow. There is much deliberating and standing about while the various factions of fiery folke make up a 'show'. There is a huge mechanical fire-breathing Garuda Bird, professionally known as 'the chicken'. I have to walk in front of a big mechanical elephant which threatens to topple forwards into me in the mud.

There is some sort of mythological theme going on, the top of the field is dominated by three large totems of Isis and Anubis, but the Garuda and elephant are Indian and really it's all about dancing around and setting things on fire. As usual, my job is to try and stop wasted hippies from touching the shiny stuff. We assure ourselves that it will all be fine. There is no actual fire tonight and the eventual plan sounds so complicated we all go out drinking instead...

Green Room Funk Band

Some random funk band
and we all dance like madmen.
Backstage is spinning.

I slink away from the fire early, it has been a hard week at work and I don't want to be tired all weekend. As I settle into the nice comfy camp-bed, the real rain begins.

The support band is really odd, I mean she is just downright weird. Laura J Martin is like a one woman marching band, playing the flute part over pre-recorded noises, layered singing and some pretty good beats. The engineer struggles a bit with the sound, probably because it is all routed through a looper but she is generally well received, even if it is jsut because the girl is quite clearly insane!

Given the strangeness of the first act, I might be forgiven for wondering whether we were in for more weirdness, whether Alice Russell has taken on a bizarre new DIY direction, but with a blast of furious funk her band debunks my fears and almost literally raises the roof. She seems to have boundless energy and her band is tight and funky.

And the voice is HUGE. There are classic 70s soul-type songs, 80s electro-funk and pure disco and everybody dances like crazy people. I've seen her perform with other people, but here singing her own songs Ms Russell is fearsome, a crowd-pleasing dervish of frightening power who can make you laugh out loud one minute and close to tears the next.

The gig inspires me to seek out her albums, Pot of Gold is the most recent and it is only okay, more laid-back than the live experience and a bit too RnB for my tastes, but on the other hand I really enjoy her 2005 album My Favourite Letters.

On the way home, there is a bible on the seat of the bus.

The old Holy Cross social club¹ in Bedminster is one of those venues with a village hall kind of atmosphere. They have crammed in as many chairs as they can, because tonight we have one of the great modern folk protest bands of the early nineties, who have grown old gracefully and stopped shouting. Chumbawamba seem to have totally reinvented themselves in the last few years, although what they've really done is just get rid of all the electro and keep the close harmonies.

I just love Chumbawamba's acoustic sound these days, they're all great singers and the whole evening is light-hearted and slightly rebellious, they take old songs and change the words so they're about banks and Gordon Brown (Hard Times of Old England) and we all feel righteous and clever. Everyone thinks it's hilarious that they have made an E.P. to celebrate the passing of Dame Thatcher, which you can have sent to your house if you give them a fiver. It's a bit sick, but Chumbawamba still remember all the political songs they used to sing, the reasons why they were so angry back then and so do we, because we're cool too.

The Boy Bands Have Won is a brilliant album, full of humour and beauty and the usual politicking, an example you can hear for yourself as they perform El Fusillado (see also Charlie) - I do not feature in either of these videos, thankfully.

They are ably supported by Jacques, A Robin, who plays quirky French/Spanish sounding acoustic songs, the sort of music you'd hear in the Greenpeace tent or at a protest, although I can't really make out what he's saying - it's either down with the government, or I like boobies, I just can't tell.

The well known song All Around My Hat doesn't make an appearance until the encore and I just can't get this little shouty voice out of my head. They must have had to play this song at every gig since 1975 and you can only imagine what it must feel like after thirty-four years. Of course the song itself is much, much older than that, but in this place, given it's folk-rock interpretation, all I can think is Maddy Prior thinking Thirty-four Fscking years! Every gig for Thirty-four Fscking years!

But this is Steeleye Span, legends of the electric guitar-tinged folk tune, playing a variety mix of prog-folk, trad. folk, 80's-folk, even a bit of cringeworthy country-folk. They are no strangers to the reworked tune or playing a song that's hundreds of years old as if they've just invented it. Some of the music does seem very dated, but this is the stuff that sounds like every band did in the 80's - all clean power chords, pads and strings. It's a weird mixture of styles and eras (I'm not a big Span groupie so I don't know all the songs) but there is certainly some good epic story-telling, impressive fiddle-work, a few jigs and reels and Maddy Prior's phenomenal voice, just as powerful as it always was.

Certainly the audience (primarily of a 'certain age') are enjoying themselves, singing along and getting involved. The usual sort of crowd smugness abounds, as fans outdo each other in lyrical knowledge and generally it is a good night, though somehow not as electrifying as it should be.

An evening of Culture at the Victoria Rooms, my old department from the Before Time at Bristol University. I don’t see anybody I recognise from ten years ago, but we are not here to be nostalgic, we are here to see a young lady fall off her piano stool trying to play Rachmaninov's third piano concerto. Well, and to support some people the Wife knows.

The Brunel Sinfonia is a local orchestra which performs under the banner of enjoyment rather than clinical precision. It is a bit of a surprise to see them attempting such difficult pieces, but everybody does indeed seem to be enjoying themselves. There is no signs of craziness from the performer, apart from the virtuosity of the piece and the orchestra of performers from just about every walk of life, from students to lawyers, doctors to retired teachers gives a stirring performance.

There is a strange, meandering overture from Borodin beforehand, and Tchaikovsky's 5th Piano Concerto for the second half. This is a lot easier to listen to than the Rachmaninov, which is more of a player's piece but still, the orchestra is impressive and not THAT out of tune. Okay, not at all out of tune. Well maybe that French horn, but who plays those, anyway? (sorry mum)

It's the second time out to see this crazy couple from Mali, and although the Wankademy is a bit of a step down from the Colston Hall, the place is pretty rammed and exciteable. We don't get to see who's supporting and Amadou & Mariam come on shortly after we arrive. They play most of their new album Welcome to Mali, which betrays much of Damon Albarn's influence and is nowhere near as great as their previous Manu Chao collaboration Dimanche à Bamako. The gig goes on and on, people just can't stop dancing and the extended African guitar solos are just brilliant.

...

What, you want more? go and buy the albums, then go and see them live. they are amazing!