Day 2 at my Imaginary Glastonbury- Saturday


Hello Good People who still sometimes read this blog…

(still editing this, sorry about errors, it was written in free-flowing time)

In a fit of self-serving blogging to cheer me up, I am going to bore you all with Day Two of my imaginary ideal Glastonbury.

It’s Saturday , so it will be a long day. Weather is cloudy and unsettled, but hey it’s not raining. I got wellies on for the mud and last night had an imaginary sing song with bearded dread-locked strangers playing djembe by the fire until dawn, sharing bottles of scrumpy, herbal cigarettes,many jokes and looking up to spot shooting stars. I was woken up by the dawn chorus of birds and grumpy young tikes, am a bit dazed, but am looking forwards to foraging for breakfast and a cup of good coffee, and to see if there are any solar powered showers.  Can smell lovely bacon but am trying to be veggie. Maybe I can find a nice veggie sausage alternative.
By the time my physical needs are slowly sorted, it should be time for the first act of today ( at my imaginary Glastonbury…cheaper than the real one and with some of my favourite bands).

Led Zeppelin are billed on the Folk Garden Stage, ( playing electric later on Mainstage). Great, that will do to start my day. This pedal-powered stage is adorned with flowerbeds   and with creeping honey suckle plants hanging over the stage instead of a lighting rig ( this is not evident in the footage I have chosen…you need to use your imagination).
Going to California – Led Zeppelin

Well after that beautiful acoustic performance, I sit down on a bale of hay and chat to Jimmy Page about his acoustic guitar tunings and smile at Robert Plant who talks incessantly about Viking Sagas, ( John Paul-Jones has gone off for a morning shit in the backstage portaloo).
It is still dry, but the skies are turning dark grey.Was that a rumble of thunder in the distance, or an amplifier farting angrily? I don’t know, that Honey Rose cigarette I scrounged off Mr. Plant is giving me a strange sense of space, colour and time.
All the tents look the same as I amble back, I spend two and a half hours looking for mine, it’s blue and I bought it from Millet’s.

Found my tent and collapsed like a clean-living middle-aged hippie who cannot cope with intoxicants of any kind. I am woken up by what sounds like a load of balloons being inflated simultaneously.Ah, a herd of young people and their nitrous oxide I think! I don’t approve, but it’s a festival, and the UK do both festivals and excessive alcohol and drug consumption particularly well.

Managed to get a lift in the back of the van of some crew member to get to a supermarket. All the locals look at us with dishevelled hair and screw up their faces as they sense the smells of skunk and woodfires which suddenly seem to emanate from our clothing once indoors.
The security guard follows us around. I buy festival essentials:cuppa soups, rizzlas, rolling tobacco, tea bags, powdered milk,chocolate biscuits,beer,candles, spare lighter,loo roll and a magazine that I will never read.

Getting back into the festival takes a while due to queues of traffic and getting lost on country roads.My driver is a guy I never met before called Botty. I have  known three “Botties” before,and they were all pretty much the same. He wears a hat , a torn t-shirt and an evil grin.  He likes loud classic rock and  heavy metal music , and so while we are stuck in lines of traffic surrounded by fields, he enriches my musical education with his stereo blasting AC/DC, ZZ Top, Rush  and many other rock bands. He tells me I should investigate the Free-floating Anarchy Noise Tent this evening. So later I go and investigate and to my surprise find my old friends Treatment performing on stage.
Treatment -The Hidden Attack (at a Club Dog event at Shoreditch Town Hall?)

After dancing  like a maniac, I join Clive, Adam and co.  and they encourage me to stay to watch Acid Mother’s Temple from Japan.

I love loud musical anarchy.

Later on,it’s getting dark , and I walk around aimlessly, munching on a reasonably-priced and delicious nut-burger ( remember the prices are imaginary),who is this on the Acoustic Politico-Philosophy Stage? Yes it’s Benjamin Zephaniah, oh joy!

At the end of Zephaniah‘s act, an MC appears in a silly jester’s hat with bells on,  a big pink tutu , his hair in plaits dyed purple to match his beard.
He tell us that he runs “Men and Gender in the 21st century workshops”in the Healing Field and also reminds us that Bob Marley is about to appear on the main stage, creating a minor stampede of Benjamin Zephaniah fans to rush out into the rain. Yes it’s raining, out come the plastic macs distributed with free copies of the Guardian.

But as we plod through mud and showers, to get to the main stage , the sun appears,  re-awakening the evening sky. Bob Marley  is resurrected from the dead, like  a Messiah living  briefly once more to sing us songs of love, hope and tribulation all encased in Rasta spirituality.
Concrete Jungle

After Bob Marley, having  danced and sampled spliffs handed to me from smiling multi-coloured strangers in the crowd, who instantly became my friends, Steve Hillage appears on the stage as he was in 1977! (Steve Hillage  is as great now as he ever was but can’t find recent footage with  good sound quality )

I have been dancing my socks off,drinking some beer, met many strangers, had many laughs, got reasonably covered in mud. I have few possessions but  great happiness renewed in my  heart and spirit.
Late at night, now the booze has worn off, there’s a special guest  on the  Literary and Pensive Songs Stage . It’s my favourite songstress: Joni Mitchell.
This is a sung poem really, about a woman who will not commit or give up her freedom, and her abandoned lovers(or fans?). A few tears run down my cheeks as she sings, but they make feel more alive emotionally and I cannot regret them:
Cactus Tree

I need to go to bed now before I get too stoned ( in my imagination) to enjoy the rest of the weekend. I can’t wait until tomorrow. I have no idea who will be playing as I couldn’t afford a programme as usual.

Well I hope you have enjoyed my Saturday at Glastonbury, I have. I just need a time machine, a ton of money and to own a big plot of land near a spiritual place.

Love and Peace
Born2rant

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Acid Mothers Temple,Stearica, Chambers of the Heart (Oxford 30/05/2010)


Hello Good People who still sometimes read this blog…

I return briefly to give a highly subjective account of a gig I went to at the weekend, that blew my mind and which has deafened me although I hope to regain my hearing gradually over the week (wear earplugs kids and don’t do as I did).

I decided on the spur of the moment to go to Oxford on Sunday to see Acid Mothers Temple.

I bought my ticket online, but shortly afterwards realised I was ill with a stomach bug and had a bit of a temperature, but decided to go anyway, these difficulties were  compounded by missing not one but two Oxford Tube coaches ( long stupid story). However I live with the philosophy that if something has many obstacles in the way, then the rewards at the end of it all are bound to be amazing so I forged my way to Oxford from London eventually.

The Bullingdon Arms venue was a bit grim but OK. Many posters about sniffer dogs and a ban on drug dealing, made me realise that I was probably not hanging out in the poshest part of Oxford but the low down and dirty experimental rock part, as it should be for such a gig.

The first act on were a young local band called Chambers of The Heart. I think they were a 5 piece band, it was hard to tell as they were playing in the dark, with only a film projection behind to illuminate them. Sounding like early Hawkwind, they were very loud and jammed continuously well, but in line with the age of the musicians, they sounded too well rehearsed and polished to actually be mistaken for a group who were creating sounds out of the air after taking a strange combination of far too many drugs ( i.e. early Hawkwind or any of the other 70s jam bands crawling out of the squats and back streets of Ladbroke Grove).

Chambers of the Heart had no vocalist but was fronted by a truly excellent female theremin player, who made this contraption her own by making it sing like a drunken but earnest Clanger. They sounded somehow slower  than Hawkwind, but compensated for this by having great swells of  loud energy and contrasting quiet peaceful bits.

I couldn’t find any youtube clips for this band but instead here’s their myspace:

chambers of the heart
http://www.myspace.com/chambersoftheheartgroup

Motorhead may have claimed to have “Everything Louder Than Everything Else“, but that’s only because Stearica was not playing live at the time. Italian band Stearica, have several pleasant-sounding melodic clips of themselves online however at this gig they were loud, forceful, speedy and raucous like this clip but much louder and somewhat faster:

Stearica 14/4/2008 ( in the spirit that I saw them play in)

Again there was no singer, but the drummer was the front man. He was the most manic drummer since Keith Moon , although this reference may now be outmoded. He asked the audience standing a few feet back from the stage,to come in closer, in a strong Italian accent. So I moved right to the front, but I had already become so engrossed in the music than I forgot to put in earplugs. Thereby injuring both brain and ears and experiencing the music in the same way as gorging a curry full of chillies and not much in the way of other ingredients.

The bassist played from a wheelchair, with energy and originality. A third member of the band played synth and guitar through two rows of pedal effects, but I was not able to hear him until the rhythm section stopped playing, and even  then, I wasn’t sure if what I was listening too was him playing high-pitched sounds or my internal screaming tinnitus.

However here he is on an occasion where he can be heard:

There was nothing subtle about this band, but also no boring moments,high-speed all the way through. At one point, in mid-song,the drummer got up and the whole band halted in suspended animation, which was surreal. They kept this up for some time until the crowds cheered enough for the drummer to start back up again and the others joined in perfectly in time. Pretty impressive. If I was running a psychedelic club I’d book them just for their sheer attitude and contagious enthusiasm.

By the time Acid Mothers Temple got on stage , I was already a bit deaf and had headbanged several thousand brain-cells out of existence ( now living in headbanger’s heaven). I was a bit worried that I would not be able to hear the next band or have any energy left to dance with. I needn’t have worried as they cranked up the volume of the Marshall amps even further, and the two guitarists standing in front of me, moved about as they played ,so that somehow I became possessed by a need to dance even more frenetically. I didn’t need drink or drugs, the music was enough to temporarily cure my stomach malaise and send me into a psychedelic trance.

The entire band was Japanese except for the bass player who had broken his arm and was replaced by a white guy with a poney tail and a moustache . He was a dead-ringer for a guy I used to know who was both a devout Catholic and a devout drug dealer with gangster connections.  This phased me initially, wondering if people who look just like other people, have similar personalities and lifestyles, but I digress. He was just a good bass player.

The lead guitarist was an artist. I don’t know his background but I could imagine him starting by learning to play Chopin from an early age and practising this for 5 hours a day and then graduating to Hawkwind, Hendrix, Pink Floyd and Steve Hillage in adolescence.

The front man with long grey hair, on guitar and synth, seemed also to have studied the greats. You note that I do not name them.I  know little about Acid Mothers Temple.

Of course I had heard of this band for some years , and knew that they had a connection with Gong, but the reason why I was at this concert was after a conversation in a London restaurant with some music students.

One girl, who is an excellent musician herself and generally a nice person, was taking the piss out of hippies as most people do. She was telling us about an Acid Mothers Temple gig she’d been to. She described them as being total hippies, who jammed for hours on stage, with a lead guitarist who did twenty-minute long solos, how everyone there was on acid and how there were hundreds of long-haired hippies in the audience either swaying or dancing crazily for hours on end to the loud psychedelic mayhem happening on stage. At which point I had to say “That sounds great!” even though she was criticising them. A music lecturer then helpfully told me that they were on tour and about to gig in Oxford.

I had heard some Japanese “noise” bands from clips on youtube, and this is what I was expecting, but Acid Mothers Temple was not only “noise”, it was bloody good music. It was not “original” music in Western terms, but blatantly imitating early Pink Floyd and Hawkwind jams, Hendrix , Steve Hillage, or other psychedelic artists, re-hashed (pardon the pun) and re-assembled into beautiful musical forms, sublimely executed by these crazed rebellious musicians. The riffs could be  a bit laboured and repetitive, but this had the effect of sending everyone into some kind of  trance. At one point I got slightly bored with the repeated riff  but then the bass player launched into the most amazing bass line in the style of Yes bassist Chris Squire.

But you can hear this for yourselves. A clip of  Acid Mothers Temple, this is one of their famous tracks ,Pink Lady Lemonade..wait for the bass to come in…followed a minute or so later by guitar solo (27 th march 2010 Vancouver)

Here is a little taster of them during a manic more disjointed phase of their musical performance from 2006:

The drummer was tucked away in the back but still drove the ever-changing speed and volume.There were phases in the music of light and dark, the pretty and melodic contrasted with piercing chaos. Feedback was used throughout as an extra dimension as well as prolific stage antics.

On several occasions, I expected the guitarist to smash his guitar to pieces in front of me and was ready to duck or catch it, if it landed in my direction. There were attempts at singing but due to the volume of the instruments it was impossible for either the audience, or the musicians to hear any vocals. At times,even the drum kit , which was being hit as hard as humanly possible, barely registered against the storm of surrounding feedback and electronic overdrive.

But hey, why have one drum-kit when you can have two?

Here is a clip of  Acid Mothers Temple ( with two drummers), doing a cover of a Steve Hillage track :The Glorious Om Riff Somehow they manage to shout the lyrics in a totally different key to the music, I don’t know if this is intentional , or just because they were deafened. Luckily they did not play this at the excellent Oxford gig I attended,as it is a bit painful to a  Steve Hillage fan, and yet it’s still brilliantly rebellious and entertaining. I assure you that they are much more “polished ” in 2010…if polished is the best word to describe them. Anyway Steve Hillage fans should play this clip from around 5 minutes in and see what you think of their cover version. Even later on in the clip, the band gets a tad nihilistic.

Acid Mother’s Temple with glissando guitar ( beautiful!)
14th April 2010 Kentucky

The final 30 minutes of the gig had virtually non-stop strobes. The lead guitarist threw his guitar around and then hung it up on the lighting rig, letting it ring out the feedback before leaving the stage.

Love ’em or hate ’em, the hurricane of electronic sounds and the dedication of the musicians to blow your mind into the ultimate psychedelic experience makes an “Acid Mothers Temple” concert an unmissable cathartic event.

It’s been three days and I still have some tinnitus in my ears, but all in all, that was the craziest psychedelic rock gig I have been to in 30 years.

There were no lyrics, no elaborate lightshows, no on stage choreography, but f*** me it was good.

Go see Acid Mothers Temple before you die, or they do (and bring earplugs).

Love and Peace

Born2rant