Hope its a good one. For new Years Eve we managed to get on to the Fish seeks Bicycle stage at the very last minute. We didn't get on till 6 AM and the style we ended up playing didn't really suit the stage we were on. The performers looked great from where I was standing and I think the audience enjoyed them. Was a great party run by a well sound crew and we got a lot of inspiration from the other acts to incorporate a more structured dance set into the show. We were joined at the last minute by a very random saxophonist who I had met previously years ago playing by a fire in the meadows on the edge of Oxford. We aren't going to play live for a couple of months now, we will experiment with midi drum kit and vocoder as I haven't really used the thing in anger yet.
Michael Moore has an interesting take on the US elections here
Showing posts with label Fish Seeks Bicycle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fish Seeks Bicycle. Show all posts
January 03, 2008
September 01, 2005
PHAT BULL
Why do I live in London?
Trying to make films about people which no one wants to commision or watch, the subjects of which aren't really into the idea of me making films about them anyway. I certainly needed a break and 5 days in the south-west has right sorted me out. The phatbull party itself was pretty ropey and poorly attended but we all agreed we'd rather watch men in dresses and body paint argue whilst sound checking than stand in any field with thousands of sheep singing along to the latest version of Coldplay anyway.
Before I went down I was wondering whether psy-trance in a field would sound a bit dated and on the way I mentioned that I was hoping to hear some rap. So on the saturday night, with the effect of a couple of drops of liquid acid coming on I veered away from a trance soundsytem to stumble upon exactly what I was looking for- 3 guys freestyling in a geodisic dome. I thought they sounded a bit familiar and was wondering through my acid daze if I recognised the rapper in the cowboy hat.
"This next one goes out to my mate Dave Bones out on the audience!" he shouted.
I haven't seen Carpetface perform for a little while. It was great to catch up and find that he has moved his performance into really exciting new territory. At times it sounded like they were doing spirituals from the deep south of America. Really top shit. Very individual in such a familiar genre. Afterwards he told me that he had taken a step back from the political protest scene and his music sounds the better for it. They had brought a really profesional black American New Yorker with them who put the icing on the cake of my suprise to find such talent in a field on the Devon/Cornwall border.
After that I had a pretty scarry acid trip, but I was expecting it anyway. I think I have to relearn some basic principles of life which I have got wrong before embarking on further experementation- or take some MDMA instead.
The next day deadsilence kicked off the morning with some very refreshing dub/punk/drum&bass and I spent time in the excellent Fish seeks bicycle bistro run by a collective from my home turf who I was suprised to find out are doing a party next week in a cave in a Dorset quarry which I think is owned by the husband of my art teacher from school.
It was really nice to leave all the banging to head for the beautiful North Devon coast. Some Oxford tribe had been doing a party there illegaly for 4 days but after a very scary walk in the dark around the cliffs I found the music to be predictable unlistenable shite and had to leave. The sound of waves crashing on rocks topped the whole journey for me. I found myself wishing that I had sought this out first rather than crashing straight out of London into booming fields full of people obsessively breathing in and out of balloons full of N20.
Its not nice to be back, so I think I'm heading out again the day after tomorow. I'll try and get another film up online if I get time.
Trying to make films about people which no one wants to commision or watch, the subjects of which aren't really into the idea of me making films about them anyway. I certainly needed a break and 5 days in the south-west has right sorted me out. The phatbull party itself was pretty ropey and poorly attended but we all agreed we'd rather watch men in dresses and body paint argue whilst sound checking than stand in any field with thousands of sheep singing along to the latest version of Coldplay anyway.
Before I went down I was wondering whether psy-trance in a field would sound a bit dated and on the way I mentioned that I was hoping to hear some rap. So on the saturday night, with the effect of a couple of drops of liquid acid coming on I veered away from a trance soundsytem to stumble upon exactly what I was looking for- 3 guys freestyling in a geodisic dome. I thought they sounded a bit familiar and was wondering through my acid daze if I recognised the rapper in the cowboy hat.
"This next one goes out to my mate Dave Bones out on the audience!" he shouted.
I haven't seen Carpetface perform for a little while. It was great to catch up and find that he has moved his performance into really exciting new territory. At times it sounded like they were doing spirituals from the deep south of America. Really top shit. Very individual in such a familiar genre. Afterwards he told me that he had taken a step back from the political protest scene and his music sounds the better for it. They had brought a really profesional black American New Yorker with them who put the icing on the cake of my suprise to find such talent in a field on the Devon/Cornwall border.
After that I had a pretty scarry acid trip, but I was expecting it anyway. I think I have to relearn some basic principles of life which I have got wrong before embarking on further experementation- or take some MDMA instead.
The next day deadsilence kicked off the morning with some very refreshing dub/punk/drum&bass and I spent time in the excellent Fish seeks bicycle bistro run by a collective from my home turf who I was suprised to find out are doing a party next week in a cave in a Dorset quarry which I think is owned by the husband of my art teacher from school.
It was really nice to leave all the banging to head for the beautiful North Devon coast. Some Oxford tribe had been doing a party there illegaly for 4 days but after a very scary walk in the dark around the cliffs I found the music to be predictable unlistenable shite and had to leave. The sound of waves crashing on rocks topped the whole journey for me. I found myself wishing that I had sought this out first rather than crashing straight out of London into booming fields full of people obsessively breathing in and out of balloons full of N20.
Its not nice to be back, so I think I'm heading out again the day after tomorow. I'll try and get another film up online if I get time.
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