Traveling through Paris during the 2015 attacks

I didn’t really want to touch the subject of the Paris attacks and the ensuing international panic at the time, hence it has taken me a long time to revisit my trip first trip to France – from November 2014. At the time, the presses reaction seemed typical, repetitious and all too remnant of the post 9/11 events over a decade ago. Murders took place and the immediate gut reaction by world powers was to cause more death. In the two months since, the topic of social media water-debate has well moved on from weather or not England should help in bombing Isis in the Middle East. More topics, tragedies and famous deaths have taken precedence. At the time I felt I wasn’t schooled enough in political history to know whether increasing bombing in Syria and the surrounding areas was the right thing to do. So I withheld opinion, even if my gut reaction was and is that peace should be achieved by means other than violence. I’m probably an idealist however.

But this is a travel blog – so lets move on from politics and discuss my first experiences with the most famous French city. My brother Callum and I had arrived in Paris in the morning of the 13th of November wide eyed and full of enthusiasm for checking out the Parisian sites. My first impressions were positive – the Eiffel tower loomed impressively in the distance and my first taste of French food while on French soil lived up to expectations. I bungled ordering a Baguette, being told off by a shop assistant for lifting up the packaging to see what fillings were inside. I couldn’t yet read any of the labels or understand that the lady was yelling at me – but my brother soon twigged and told me to stop fondling the baguettes. The next mission involved viewing the Eiffel Tower, which was every bit as impressive as the hype had led me to believe. We wandered around the area beside the tower for a while and marveled at the impressive architecture the Parisians have amassed over various political and cultural phase. Darkness hit, the tower was lit up, and then it was back to the hotel. A quiet first day, as me and my brother who was my traveling companion had planned to see more of the city, including the Louvre the next day.

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That night my brother and I went off to explore the Latin Quarter, the famous area of winding streets, restaurants and markets that would have once housed much of Paris’ artist community. My brother returned to the hotel early, while I kept exploring solo. I had no idea of what was taking place elsewhere in Paris on Friday the 13th of November as I strolled through the Latin Quarter, searching for music venues and enjoying the vibrant feel of the cities nightlife. The vibe there was electric – I had managed to stumble upon a local jazz group playing a cover of Sloop John B. A couple started swing dancing in response to the street jazz band. It seemed a serendipitous occurrence, to have seen something that embodied the stereotypical view of a cultured France. After a bit more walking through the streets, I made my way to an underground Medieval-era bar, Caveau des Oubliettes. A blues band was performing, of not exceptional skill, but the environment was unique.

It was only on my way home that I received worried text messages from both my parents saying that there had been a terrorist attack somewhere in Paris and asking if I was alright. I didn’t think a great deal of this at first, as we hear so much about violence taking place internationally on a daily basis, we become a bit desensitized to such warnings. I took the underground to meet Callum back at the hotel and observed the faces of the locals, wondering if what was taking place elsewhere was serious. There weren’t many people in the underground, but those there did look a bit concerned. One lady held her partners hand, staring sorrowfully into his eyes. The streets around the hotel were largely empty and once I got back to the hotel, Callum clued me up as to what was going on. The seriousness now dawned on me. I vaguely had a look at a news report stating an Eagles Of Death Metal concert had been shot at, but I didn’t want to think about that. I could have been at concert, given difference circumstances. So we decided to get some sleep, and re-evaluate the situation the next day.

We had promised our parents we wouldn’t take any risks the next day, but just after waking we decided to try and visit the Louvre as per our previous plans. My brother was rightfully a bit cautious about traveling through the city – there was police and military presence everywhere including on the tube, and therefore I didn’t feel particularly unsafe. We made our way to the Louvre and there were no queues and barely any crowds of people. It was looking like it might be an easy day to gain entrance due to the lack of crowds. We soon were made aware of the national day of morning – putting an end to our plans to visit any major Parisian activities. Never the less we still managed exploring the city, viewing the Arc de Triomphe, the Sacré-Cœur at the highest point of Paris,  and visiting a few free art galleries. We finished our day with a very reasonably priced three course meal back in my favourite area, the Latin Quarter, so all-in-all it was an as-per-normal day of tourist activities. Just with a much heightened police presence.

The next day was my last day in France, so still no visit to the Lourve this time around. That will have to wait. Even though what happened in Paris was huge international consequence, from by point of view as a naive tourist, the city and it’s people showed no sign of giving into any fear. They were all going about their daily lives, and nothing ever felt unsafe. Which is perhaps more than can be said for the daily life of anyone still living in Damascus. I hate to overlook the losses within Paris – it’s horrible and tragic whenever large scale deaths occur within any community – but what happened in Paris was only an isolated incident. The happening in Syria and other such places is occurring daily. I’ve not a great deal of deep conclusions to draw from my time being in Paris during a large international incident – all I can say, is that from the point of view of an irresponsible and perhaps insensitive traveler such as myself – it was still a good place to visit. I can’t wait to go back.

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Live Review: Peaches (Electric Ballroom, London, 2015)

Last Sunday night in Camden Town, London, Merrill Nisker brought the Teaches of Peaches and schooled us in how to perfect a solo club show.

On this later tour, Nisker has returned to a minimal approach to Peaches as a live act, similar her Berlin club beginnings, or early festival shows promoting The Teaches Of Peaches and follow up Fatherfucker. Eschewing the band show she had developed to much acclaim during tours for Impeach My Bush and I Feel Cream, the focus of the show was the energy and performance of Peaches herself, backed by a couple of dancers and some very entertaining visual surprises throughout. I had doubted that as a solo show, this would be as excited as the Peaches band set-up I’d seen years earlier. But Nisker had the audacity to pull this off, proving why she is the queen of electroclash – and why she is a true classic live performer.

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No time was wasted as the lights quickly dimmed and Nisker appeared on stage in a ridiculous cartoon-cyberpunk outfit, like something from an anime version of Dune. Opening track and title track off the new album, Rub, seemed nothing too special on recording, but lines such as “can’t talk right now, this chicks dick is in my mouth”, came across with hilarity and set the tone for the rest of the night. The sold out crowd was heaving, jumping, dancing, screaming (and cracking up) as she projected her sexual electro punk classics on to us all. Nisker was the MC and the DJ, as she queued each track up on a set of CD-J’s and a mixer placed on a riser in front of her rock show light rig. Proving charismatic enough to own the stage on her own through-out Fatherfucker favourite Operate, she returned to the new material with Vaginaplasty, bring out her two person dance crew to help out. Dressed in giant vagina outfits, complete with over-sized clitoris’, the dancers helped add visual flair to the proceedings. The male and female dancers I felt had a particularly mainstream look to them, which gave the ridiculous content (and dance ideas) an accessibility. They seemed like regularly people, not flamboyant performers or drag artists (like many that appear in her videos) and I couldn’t help think her choice of backup dancers perhaps spoke to the sexually repressed among her audience. It was as if to say, if this common looking couple can get freaky to the suggestion of Peaches, so can you.

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Nisker kept the energy up, soon walking over the hands of the audience and right to the middle of the venue during I Feel Cream. Talk To Me and Boys Wanna Be Her proved two of the most popular of the set judging by audience reaction, but she wasn’t only playing the hits, drawing deep into her catalouge for standalone single Burst! and Teaches Of Peaches deep-cut Lovertits. The most outrageous prop of the night was to come during Dick In The Air. With a great trap beat, and some of Peaches funniest lyrics off the new album, I had anticipated this song being one of my highlights. Not content with just bringing a blow up penis (which would have illustrated the songs content just fine), the stage crew proceeded to inflate a giant see-through plastic shaft, which spread out across the audience. The tracks deep baseline kicked in, and Peaches delivered the first verse before entering the giant shaft and walking across the audience. I had expected perhaps a dick to be raised to the air during this song in some form, I hadn’t expected a penis shaped shaft to be inflated over the audience with Peaches dancing and rapping within it. I true moment of stage-craft genius if there ever was one.

The inevitable mass crowd-singalong to Fuck The Pain Away occurred, before Peaches left the stage, taking a suitcase with her to the tune of The Warriors theme. I wasn’t sure if she would be one to return and encore, but she soon did, this time topless (although tastefully so – skin coloured nipple covers and a new costume). She chose perhaps the best song off the new album to open this encore, Dumb Fuck, with her backup dancers returning also for one last routine, this time creatively involving hair dryers. AA XXX gave us all one last time to shout along with her brilliant punk poetry, before she exited the stage once again. It was not over yet however, as she graced this Camden stage one more time for Light In Places. A hexagon shaped swing was unfurled from the lighting rig, and if you’ve seen the video, I think you can guess what came next. We were basically treated to a cirque-du-solei show, as Peaches was joined by aerial performance Empress Stah, who took to the swing to demonstrate some amazing acrobatic abilities. All with a lighting device placed just about on her butt. I’d never been so happy to have an ass shine over me. It was quite the performance, and not one I’ll forget any time – especially impressive if that was a butt-plug creating those lights.

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After two encores and a show full of high energy set pieces and a large setlist of new and old songs, I doubt there was an unsatisfied fan in the room. Nisker took the time to sign records and meet the fans straight after the show, showing her humble nature. I took the opportunity to talk to her again, having met her briefly as a wide-eyed 17 year old at the Big Day Out 2007. It is somewhat comforting to know that in that time since, Nisker has been able to maintain her career, stay relevant, and arguably become an even better live performer. What she gave us at the Electric Ballroom was one part insane party and another part punk political statement, and with her career of fearlessness and confrontation – to gender norms and repressed sexuality – it must be a vindication of her continued efforts to see the frenzied fun she inspires within a club setting such as this.

peaches rub signed

Film Review: Spectre (Sam Mendes, 2015)

The latest Bond film features all the hallmarks of the beloved franchise – international locals, elaborately staged espionage action sequences, a Bond girl or two, a menacing foreign-accented villain and a plot to end world safety plucked straight from contemporary headlines. Being a product of both the age of terror and mass-surveillance, the scriptwriters deftly manage to include strands of both within the films surprisingly entertaining narrative. I say surprising, as many of the reviews I’d read prior to seeing the film had had me expecting a much more derivative Bond entry. The core Bond-formula elements are all there, but returning director Sam Mendes executes them with style, wrapping up the Craig-era Bond films in a satisfying way, while leaving room for more.

It has apparently been a while since watching early Bond, as I had forgotten all about Spectre and their role and their role as being the main bad guys back in the Connery-era films. It was perhaps rather naive that I realised mid-way through this film that I was watching both a reboot and an origins story. Blofeld is back, and Christopher Waltz puts his signature twisted spin on the character, largely over-shadowing earlier versions. The classic villain has been given an expanded back story, providing more depth to his villainous motivation. Of the returning characters, Ben Wishaw is back at Q, and is given his own share of action time – a worthy successor to Ben Whishaw. Roy Kinnear is back as the of Mi6 and Judi Dench obviously exited in the last entry, but the scriptwriters have chosen to have her shadow hang over this narratives events.

The bond girl this time around is Lea Seydoux as Dr. Madeleine Swan, a daughter of a Spectre member living in hiding. Following on from strong female action characters of recent times such as Charlize Theron in Mad Max: Fury Road, she is not just eye candy for Bond to save, but does much of the saving herself. Seydoux and Craig have chemistry, and their relationship has the usual amount of Bond-style twists and turns. In spite of the attempts to have a strong female co-star, I feel her character is at times a bit predictable and feels one of the least daring elements of the narrative.

Sometimes it’s not entirely apparently how the films enormous budget, one of the largest in history at $245 million, was put to use. Perhaps marketing and actors fees account for a large proportion of this, but one area where the money was apparent was in the use of major international locations. The opening sequence set during Mexico Cities’ Dia de los Muertos kicks things off with an ambitious single take shot, including a large amount of extras (many probably digital). Later, Bond speeds through the narrow medieval streets of Rome in a thrilling chase sequence that rivals the best of them. Things later return to London, and I was happy to see many familiar landmarks make an appearance. I’m assuming it wasn’t cheap to stage action sequences around Trafalgar Square. The action scenes are entertaining, the explosives well executed, if the violence a little less frequent as the last three Craig entries.

I wonder, with the budget being used in reasonably subtle ways (for a Bond film), are pretty locals are not enough to win over modern audiences. While the action sequences are flashy, they are not nearly as frequent as a Joss Weadon or Michael Bay action film. The ambivalent reactions toward Spectre makes me wonder if the entry is too nuanced for a modern audience, who are increasingly used to action sequences filmed like first person shooter games, and narratives with the simplest of good-bad dichotomies (every Marvel film for example). Although the narrative had it’s share of flaws, the scriptwriters usage of contemporary issues as plot devices was much more intelligent and subtle than the usual distorted cinematic propoganda (such as that of the cold war era Bonds). The film explored the connection between terrorist acts and the profit gained from private companies selling mass-surveilance to fairful governments and their people. In one scene, after South Africa remains the only country adverse to joining the fictionalized ‘9 eyes’ intellegence network, we later see a headline reporting a terrorist act taking place within Cape Town. Spectre are of course behind and profiting from all this, and their motives are not fully explained, but the subtle use of relevant issues is a welcome touch.

Mendes has given the Craig-era bond films their own continuity with this entry, and they now stand-out especially from the rest of the franchise. By revisiting and re imagining such iconic moments of Bond history as Spectre and Blofeld, Mendes manages to pay homage to the series while further drawing a line in the sand regarding the place of the Craig-era films. The Craig films have seemed a new beginning ever since Casino Royale, but now more than ever they have their own continuity and connecting themes, inspired by the old books and films, but given a slick new polish for a modern generation. Unlikely as it seems, more than ever the Bond series appears to be one with legs to continue to future generations. I hope that Craig at least gets one more, but if this is the end to his Bond career, it’s a fitting finale.

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Live Review: Chvrches (Alexander Palace, London, 2015)

 

I was slightly cynical before attending Chvrches largest London headline show to date, having previously seen them play Laneway in Auckland in 2014, where they had been promoted to headliner after Lorde dropped out. At the time they didn’t quite seem headline material, even for an indie festival such as Laneway, and a minimal stage set up and technical issues in my eyes confirmed this to be the case. With their latest album, Every Open Eye being a strong follow up to The Bones Of What You Believe, and their fan-base only growing in size and dedication, it seemed there were enough reasons in the lead up to the Alexander Palace show to believe that Chvrches now have what it takes.

Alexander Palace, with it’s standing capacity of 7,300 is not a small venue. Chvrches has sold this out, which is perhaps an indication of their rising popularity. The audience was eclectic, not being dominated by teenagers or indie kids, but with a suitable proportion it seemed of over 40 year olds and casual concert goers, of both genders. Gangs of lads could be spotted as could many couples, choosing this band for the soundtrack to their courtship. It seems Chvrches are a band that crosses demographics.

The opening acts were equally eclectic, with Australian indie-EDM cross-over act Mansionair opening proceedings. There drummer was particularly notable, backing up layers of melodic synths and reverb heavy chords with jazzy rhythms and the expected drum machine sample. It was a fairly chilled beginning, before Four Tet took the stage with his intoxicating progressive house vibes, encouraging some welcome movement throughout the steadily growing crowd. It is perhaps notable to mention that the show ran like clock-work, with Chvrches taking to the stage exactly on their 9pm listed time.

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The house lights went down and the Glasgow band emerged, with singer Lauren Mayberry’s presence causing the expected shrieks of excitement from their especially female fan-base. Wasting no time, Mayberry danced about the stage, leaping up on the fold-back’s and seemed a much more confident front-woman than at Laneway two years earlier. Opening track Never Ending Circles has some of the best hooks off the new album and provided an energetic opener. Her two bandmates, Martin Doherty and Iain Cook, were largely stuck on their podiums of synthesizers and samples, although 41 year old Cook occasionally left his podium to add live bass. Doherty gets turn front of stage later for a lead vocal cameo, with Mayberry showing her percussions skills, her drumming cameos being somewhat of a highlight.

The two massive screen’s either side of the band focused on Mayberry, making her a seem larger than life presence, in spite of her relatively slight real life stature.  These screens also provided a glimpse into what was taking place behind Doherty and Cook’s podiums, giving evidence that they were in fact playing their synthesizers live – not just queuing backing tracks as could easily be assumed. The stage design has gone up a notch as well, though remaining understated, with three screens of colourful animations and an arena-sized lighting rig providing a visual accompaniment to the music. These production values are expected for a band of this size, but in my eyes greatly improved the shows sense of spectacle compared to that minimal Laneway performance. They are now suited to a venue the size of Alexander Palace, without completely giving themselves over to the excesses of mainstream pop live productions.

Although Chvrches are fast rising the ranks of indie fame, they continue to approach their pop career with modesty. This determination to stay down to earth shows itself particularly in Mayberry’s on stage persona, herself admitting during between song banter that she could never be a Motley Crue-type, crowd pleasing front-woman. Although asking the crowd later if they were having a great time, referencing the earlier self-deprecating banter, the crowd in turn responded with cheers, showing that if Mayberry was every to fully embrace the role of a rock performer, she would well have the capability. But perhaps Chvrches reluctance to embrace the fake side of rock and pop is what draws their fanbase towards them. At other points in the concert, Mayberry talked of her fear of becoming another headline, in light of recent onstage events becoming tabloid fodder. Regardless of what the journalists chose to write, the bands authenticity in songwriting and performance remains endearing  and I think it is a large part of their appeal.

Most importantly, Chvrches have the hits, blitzing through big singalong moments such as Gun and We Sink off the first album, with new singles Empty Threat, Leave A Trace and Clearest Blue already being some of the biggest moments. Vocals are always impressive and the performance quality near identical to what is heard on the album (a good or bad thing depending on your appreciation of improvisation). Ending with the tender Afterglow, before signature anthem The Mother We Share, Chvrches prove they more than have the songwriting skills to be major headlining act. Compared to recent concerts I’ve attended of this genre which seemed slightly underwhelming, Purity Ring being one example, Chvrches are staking their claim as a major electronic pop live draw-card, and they have the evidence to prove it.

chvrches alexander palace

Theatre Review: Everyman – National Theatre, London

Sometimes you’re drawn towards a piece of art because of it’s themes. Perhaps the topic of the artwork speaks to something that’s been on your mind at that point. Art, after all, is not just escapism but a way to learn about the world from different perspective. Or it is a medium of conversation, to discuss themes and transmit ideas in a way that would not be possible through everyday conversation. I felt drawn to the National Theatre’s staging of Everyman, not just because stars Chiwrtel Ejiofor of 12 Years a Slave fame – although I admit that was a part – but also because of the literalization of the theme of man’s confrontation with Death. With Everyman being based on a 15th century morality tale, it felt almost like Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal brought to the stage, yet subverting religious themes within the original text to become a modern criticism of the vacant materialism of modern lives. The subject of death is a fun one to ruminate on, and although it might sound heady, a contemporary update of a church morality tale is something worth venturing out to see.

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In this version, Death arrives to interrupt the Everyman at the height of his success, just as Death came to the plague-era knight in The Seventh Seal. Chiwrtel Ejiofor’s Everyman character is not so cunning as Max Von Sydon’s Knight however, and is a much more of a jaded, pleasure seeking, ambitious modern man. The figure of Death here is portrayed as a wisecracking working class salesman, a subversion of the expected stereotype. Our narrator likewise is a figure taking the place of God, who here is cast as a cleaning lady with a wise mind. The Everyman, having not had time for his family for years, and surrounding himself with shallow friendships based on wealth and decadence – now finds himself with no one to testify in support of his character, in the face of death. These universal themes are boldly presented by writer Carol Anne Duffy and director Rufus Norris, who have pieced together a strong cast, backed up with original visual and aural cues. Spectacle is there right from the first act – such as Ejiofor descending from the roof on wire, simulating perhaps his suicide. A video wall is then used to enhance settings – and a hurricane, metaphor for man’s uncaring attitude to his earth, is simulated midway through. These tricks are impressive but not distracting. The acting and polish of the script is what shines through, with traditional dialogue sitting side by side with modern colloquialisms. Other notable strong performances include the Everyman’s parents, both of declining health, with a family dynamic many will able to relate to – with one sibling doing most of the caregiving while the other pursues more selfish ambitions. Ejiofor largely steals the show however, with a hugely expressive performance loud enough to reach to the back of the theatre, yet nuanced enough to effectively carry the emotion of the story.

It all builds towards a touching climax, where man comes face to face with his child self. I felt the director, writer and actors hit allusive grace note with the execution of the ending. We all have days where we sit around and ponder what could have been. Or other days where we hear the news and think of the destruction man is causing and whether the world is truely being affected by this. The play takes these emotions and deals with them in a way that is not forced, but instead sublimely executed. As my first time in the National Theatre and my first time seeing a major contemporary theatre piece in a British Theatre, I was perhaps always going to be impressed. Especially a performance which featured a major international actor who only recently was nominated for an Oscar for one of my favourite films of the last few years. But I will say I’ll just say – if in the mood for contemplating mortality, I suggest you head along to the National Theatre before 30th August.

everyman national theatre

Review: Rioting outside Wireless Festival (Finsbury Park, London, 4th July 2015)

 

 

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Yesterday Kendrick Lamar played as part of Wireless festival in London. I had a ticket for the day, having wanted to see Lamar live for some time. But having arrived at Finsbury Park i was overcome with festival snobbery and decided Wireless wasn’t for me. My feelings were probably due to the fact that apart from Lamar, the only other acts on the lineup that I would have had even a vague interest in seeing were Mary J. Blige, who I already skipped at Glastonbury, and Childish Gambino, who I don’t particularly rate. The fact that Avicii was headlining, an artist I dislike in a genre I particularly dislike, cookie-cutter radio pop house, EDM or whatever the currently label is, irked me further. Why should Kendrick Lamar have only an hour, with his discography only getting stronger, him having probably the best album of 2015 after all, yet Avicii was given nearly two hours to stand on stage and cue corny pop anthems and tweak eq nobs on his CD-jay or serato set-up while the kids trips peak as the streamers and smoke and mirrors create the usual manufactured concert euphoria. I eventually decided this was not worth the 45 pound I paid for the ticket, and flogged it off to the first group I found who were buying.

LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM - JULY 13: Kendrick Lamar performs on stage on Day 2 of Yahoo Wireless Festival 2013 at Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park on July 13, 2013 in London, England. (Photo by Andrew Benge/Redferns via Getty Images)

LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM – JULY 13: Kendrick Lamar performs on stage on Day 2 of Yahoo Wireless Festival 2013 at Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park on July 13, 2013 in London, England. (Photo by Andrew Benge/Redferns via Getty Images)

Seeing Kendrick live will have to wait, but instead I can review the vibe from outside Wireless Festival in the Finsbury Park grounds, North East London. The party was not confined to inside the walls and outside, hundreds were milling around in groups, publically drinking as this is legal in London, the atmosphere and prospects of getting a show for free attracting youths and hang abouts of all sorts. I may have left my ticket behind but not the festivities entirely. Instead a friend and I joined in with the free Finsbury festival happening that day. It may not have been corperate sponsored entertainment as per what was going on inside, but the outside festivities had a charm all their own, and plenty of entertainment, proving the youths can entertain themselves without needing big light shows and european DJs. The entertainment instead became all about finding a way into Wireless for free.

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The day before, some of these outside lingerers had managed to find a weakness in the fencing, providing the opportunity to get in for free. Saturday night, this was repeated except this time, security was ready and waiting. Word had got out through social media and those attempting to get in the second night had rapidly grown from the day before. I was expecting to see people attempting to break in, but also due to the police and security presence, had assumed this would deter the majority of attemptees. I was quite wrong. My friend and I had found a spot to sit, enjoy the sun and a few beers and perhaps enjoy some of the sounds leaking in from the festival beside us, when suddenly scores of people came running nearby. Quickly clicking to what was occuring, my friend and I caught up and followed behind. A weakness had been found in a back vehicle entrance, and people were pouring into Wireless in droves. Not long after, those same people were pushed back out, and a clash with gatecrashers and security ensured.

Now practically a full on riot, the crowd outside that had only swelled further took it upon themselves to sprint round the perimeter of Finsbury, making attempts to rip the Wireless fence down, a few making it over here and there, most chased away by security and police. Security were unable to physically attack the crowd, the police seemed resigned to let it take place and so arrests were not made and things were largely unviolent. As Kendrick took the stage this only convinced the mob to try harder to break in. Kendrick sounded great from outside, his anthems belting out as the mob took made final attempts to break down the wall of corporate music festivities. King Kunta sounded out and only made the kids try harder to get in.

Kendrick’s set coming to an end, the mob gave up. No one breaking in was attempting for the sake of Avicii, it was Lamar’s street sharp anthems that were uniting a crowd of bored London youths. Someone later made the comment to me that such an event was evident of what happens when there is not enough afforable leisure options available for youths. With school out,what else is there to do but get drunk in a park and try and break in to where the fun is. This is perhaps evident of the organisef chaos that youth boredom can eventuate to, if on a scale of that of Londons. A microcosmic example of the London riots that have been, and will probably be back. An occurance like this anticipates that.

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All this keeping the desperate kids out of the entertaiment does make me think, why should the rich no pay for the poor, taking a leaf out of the Proms books. Once the tickets have all been bought up, if there are 300 people hanging outside, why not just let the doors open and let them in, rather than semi-violently keeping them out of the corperate funded entertaiment. The hack DJs, the bloated corperate sponsors, the venue owners will all still make a profit. It’s happened in the past, The Wall in Berlin 1990 for example, or early Glastonbury festivals where fence jumping was just an expected part of it. Or what about Woodstock, when over demand and not enough ticket supply led to it becoming a free concert.

But it’s not 1969 anymore, and giant metal walls and police presence are the solution to keeping the poor or cheap out, and keeping the profit for the sponsors as high as possible. Bring on the next riots, they’ll probably be a lot more serious next time.

Note: I’ve just read that some people were in fact hurt, and perhaps stabbed in the attempted mob break ins. So to re-evaluate, breaking into a festival and using violence isn’t cool. I would probably recommend distancing yourself from such goings on. Also I don’t wish to insult the victims of previous riots – obviously personal casualties as well as property damage occured in the last London riots and I wouldn’t want to endorse any of that.

In the future I think I’ll stick to reviewing the concert – and discussing why Kendrick Lamar is a much better choice of headliner than Avicii.

Glastonbury 2015 live blog: Thursday and Friday

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Thursday

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Day two has started with a trek to the only hot showers, over in the greenpeace area, which saw a forty minute wait to get freshened up. The queues will only get bigger for these enviromentally concious showers where one must use the provided organic soap, so baby wipes and rinses by the nearest tap might be the options for hygene for the rest of the festival. The rest of the day has so far been quiet, with a big breakfast consumed from our favourite Summer Cafe and a bit of reading of the Glastonbury Free Press, the festival newspaper printed at a printing press on site.

I missed a few details from yesterdays adventuring in the previous blog. Earlier, I had in fact ran in to Michael Eavis, who joined the Mayor of Pilton to give a speech officially opening the festivities. It was a little unscheduled moment I stumbled upon. Later, our trek up the hill made it only half the way to the stonecircle, as crowds have already gotten rediculous, with baths between stages being excrutiatingly congested. This congestion will apparently be sorted out once the music starts tomorrow, as the crowds will disperse to in front of the stages instead of in the paths between. Up on the hill, we were treated to a display of pyrotechnics and lights, as the Arcadia spider stage kicked into action in a demonstration of its spectacle. Worth googling if you haven’t seen it. Club and bar stages were already kicking off – so even though just Wednesday and the lineup not starting officially until friday, things are already massive. This festival would be great without the bands.

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Friday

07:49
The blogging ceased to happen for the rest of yesterday but I thought I’d get one in today before the real hectic rush to catch bands begins. Thursday night saw a mission to catch Drenge play a secret set in Williams Green. Rumour had gone around throughout the day that they were appearing and a substantial crowd had already filled up the tent an hour before the band was due to appear. This would be some of the first major sets of the weekend, with Seafret and Wolf Alice appearing as well. Seafret played a pretty good set first of emotional acoustic indie which warmed things up. When Drenge took the stage, the real crush began, with moshing and circle pits not just from the guys but the gals too. Drenge’s mix of indie melodies with sludgey, downtuned grunge grooves seems to have a bit of cross over appeal. No doubt these guys will be on a larger stage as an official billing next year.

Later on, after drifting through tides of people on my way back to camp I stumbled on a rock band called Waa Wei playing a killer set in a tent called the La Pussy Parlure. The female singer, perhaps Japanese had an intense presence with glammed out costume design. I stood, hypnotically watching this band I knew nothing about for some time, and also appreciating how cool this little venue was. Just another one of those interesting things you stumble upon in a festival as eclectic as this.

The festival is about to kick off for real today, so I’ve consumed a full english breakfast and a coffee and am plotting my potential schedule for the day. Must sees include Motorhead and Enter Shikari, so it could be a day of the heavy. Pussy Riot is giving a talk at The Park, which could be something not to be missed. The crowds are about to reach their zenith, so my ability to see these acts will depend upon the time it takes to get between stages. We’ll see how I go.

pussy riot glastonbury 2015

11.56
The Charlatans are kicking off the Other Stage with a set of britpop classics I’ve never heard, but there’s good grooves and great stage presence. The massive crowd seems happy in spite of an ominous dark cloud over head that signals the traditional Glastonbury mud will be hear soon. Luckily I’m prepared, carrying with me a plastic poncho obtained from a frozen yoghurt stall at last weeks Blur concert at Hyde Park. My welly’s are back at the camp site, so it’ll mean a trek back later to get prepared, probably before the Motorhead mosh. It’s so far pretty easy to get between stages, I’ve already walked  from the Greenpeace area, where I engaged in some surreal power ballad yoga (videos to come) and had my camera battery charged by some nice hippies in green fields. As I write this I’m sitting in the grass outside The Park stage, waiting for Pussy Riot to give a talk.

14:59
Pussy Riot gave a hilarious talk in support of rebellion on top of a military vehicle in front of The Park stage. A considerable crowd was perplexed and captivated by the presentation. King Gizzard then followed with double drummer assault of riffs and harmonica, a crazy indie rock version of ACDC, straight out of Australia.

alabama shakes glastonbury 2015

23:48
Attempts to write during the day were cut short by an intense day of wandering, getting stuck in the rain, gearing up with weather proof clothing and heading back and forth between stages seeing bands both expected and surprising. It’s been quite a full to be honest, i know that its a cliche to talk about the size of this festival, but it really is huge. After a day of amazing sets and three days of exploring, I’m still discovering new areas. The Arcadia stage has kicked off, a giant spider with moving parts and pyro exploding generously. It’s glowing red eyes peer ominously over the audience, the DJ sits within the spider – and although the music isn’t to my taste, the attention to detail of such areas is impressive.

As for the rest of my first Friday of Glastonbury, most notably the rain came down and with it the mud. With the right perspective you can soldier on, and once the wellys were donned all was fine. Motorhead in the pouring rain was a particular highlight, with Lemmy and co. bringing the speed metal, even though most of the crowd basically only knew Ace of Spades. Moshing in front of the Pyramid Stage was hilarious, the old school double kick and heavy rock riffs a welcome change from the indie jangling which is most prominent elsewhere.

Due to mainstage bands running late I only managed to catch the last song of Run The Jewels, but I did most unexpectadly catch The Libertines on the mainstage. The Libertines filled the gap before Florence And The Machine and proved a great choice – Foo Fighters were probably missed by some watching the live stream online, but at the festival, who was playing barely even mattered. Florence seemed to kick ass on the mainstage but I soon left with new friends met in the Pyramid crowd to see Enter Shikari.

I now walk off, following streams of people trudging through mud, to find a potential last great set before bed, although the day has already been so huge, any more entertainment is superfluous.

Although the bands are great, the highlights of the day have been random interesting conversations with strangers, rather than the bands. The music is the icing on the cake. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows though, I feel like there are downsides to a festival of this size. It certainly is challenge and if you’re not prepared with the right clothes and equipment, or if you don’t pace yourself, you risk not making the most of what this unique place offers.

Kanye West tomorrow, and hiphop kareoke at Stonebridge Bar in The Park, 4pm. See you there.