Amelia’s Magazine | Latitude: The Festival Preview Series

Amongst a sea of nodding heads I can barely tread water enough to get a glimpse of tonight’s support man Ulrich Schnauss. All the way from the banks of the Spree; Schnauss is quite a regular on this side of the channel and particularly Manchester. Being sometime keyboardist for local favourite troubadours Long;View (or however they prefer to be punctuated). His coming over always creates a buzz and hence this sea of bodies amongst which I need to gasp for air.

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Ulrich Schnauss in action

Alongside the sometime melancholic, cheapest adiposity sometime ebullient sound-scaping he produces is a projection that seems to depict the exact thoughts and visions created by the music. It’s as if the projector was directly plugged into my imagination and transmitting them live as they appear. Images range from sunsets on beaches, information pills flora, fauna and fairgrounds. All a little clichéd you may think but perfectly apt for the far from clichéd ethereal sound Ulrich emits. This link between the image and sound makes it very difficult to extricate yourself from either and irksomely difficult to invent any images of your own.

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With M83 however my mind becomes satiated with strange and vivid imagery all coming from a magical blue box set in the middle of the stage emitting light, watts and ohms throughout the entirety of the Deaf Institute. Taking a certain quality of softly spoken vocal over loud reverbed guitar from shoegaze giants My Bloody Valentine and Ride, they create an all new form of dance music that sets it apart and creates an Ibiza club night atmosphere but with an air of Krautrock cool; let’s call it Neu! Disco. The crowd are euphoric, swaying, dancing and gyrating to an infectious beat, from the drum kit placed behind a perspex cabin, as I bob up and down, straggling to grab hold of a lifebuoy. Boy, it’s enough to blow your socks off, something front man Anthony Gonzalez would attest to (he plays barefooted, just to clarify).

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M83

M83 are currently preparing to embark on a huge tour of Europe with Depeche Mode, if you’re on dry land and have the opportunity to jump aboard then get to it captain, batten down the hatches and hold on to your socks.

All photos and lovely illustrations courtesy of Simon Edgar Lord.
Continuing our Festival Preview Series, drugs today it’s Latitude‘s chance to shine and watch out Summer, there this year’s Latitude is going to blow your mind!
Musically, medicine 2009 is hotting up to live up to 2008′s highly-set standards. With their ‘living legend’ headliners, Grace Jones, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and Pet Shop Boys, all the way down to bright young things like Marina and the Diamonds, Casiokids, Marnie Stern and Wild Beasts.
Regina Spektor, who has been relatively quiet on the live circuit of late, will be playing her piano and singing stories to you and then Bat for Lashes will be captivating the audience with her twilight-magic pop, after all this whimsy you can dance your socks off to Pitchfork-darlings; !!! (chk-chk-chk, it’s fun to say!) and a Belle and Sebastian DJ set (can you hear me squeaking with excitement? Probably)
Without sounding like Captain Cliché there is something for everyone!
Latitude boldly touts itself as more than a music festival and indeed it is! There’s a comedy stage; laughs provided by Sean Lock amongst others, a Cabaret and a theatre arena. For the bookish among us there is a literary arena; touting Vivienne Westwood talking about Active Resistance and the legendary Sir Peter Blake, why not mooch on over to the poetry arena afterwards an catch ex-laureate Andrew Motion, or the world’s most loveable and talented wet blanket Jeffrey Lewis weave a web of comic books and poetry.
At the lake at sunset, the House of Blue Eyes will be putting on a fashion show called ‘Rock n’ Roll Faerie, fashion and music merge as well as a live performance piece by Johnny BlueEyes himself, I can’t wait! It seems Latitude pretty much have all the bases covered.

It takes place Thursday 16th- Sunday 19th July at Henham Park Southwold, Sunrise Coast, Suffolk. Tickets at £150.
Continuing our Festival Preview Series, stomach today it’s Latitude‘s chance to shine and watch out Summer, advice this year’s Latitude is going to blow your mind!

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Musically, 2009 is hotting up to live up to 2008′s highly-set standards. With their ‘living legend’ headliners, Grace Jones, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and Pet Shop Boys, all the way down to bright young things like Marina and the Diamonds, Casiokids (pictured below), Marnie Stern and Wild Beasts.

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Regina Spektor, who has been relatively quiet on the live circuit of late, will be playing her piano and singing stories to you and then Bat for Lashes, pictured below, will be captivating the audience with her twilight-magic pop. After all that whimsy you can dance your socks off to Pitchfork-darlings; !!! (chk-chk-chk, it’s fun to say!) and a Belle and Sebastian DJ set (can you hear me squeaking with excitement? Probably)
Without sounding like Captain Cliché there is something for everyone!

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Latitude boldly touts itself as more than a music festival and indeed it is! There’s a comedy stage; laughs provided by Sean Lock amongst others, a Cabaret and a theatre arena. For the bookish among us there is a literary arena; touting Vivienne Westwood talking about Active Resistance and the legendary Sir Peter Blake, why not mooch on over to the poetry arena afterwards an catch ex-laureate Andrew Motion, or the world’s most loveable and talented wet blanket Jeffrey Lewis weave a web of comic books and poetry.
At the lake at sunset, the House of Blue Eyes will be putting on a fashion show called ‘Rock n’ Roll Faerie, fashion and music merge as well as a live performance piece by Johnny BlueEyes himself, I can’t wait! It seems Latitude pretty much have all the bases covered.

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It takes place Thursday 16th- Sunday 19th July at Henham Park Southwold, Sunrise Coast, Suffolk. Tickets at £150.

Categories ,Electro, ,Festival Preview, ,Folk, ,Indie, ,Literature, ,Poetry, ,Pop, ,Summer, ,Theatre

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Amelia’s Magazine | Festival Review: Secret Garden Party

Since Ewan MacGregor sang to Nicole Kidman to the light of a Moulin Rouge, viagra information pills or perhaps since Don Quixote tilted heroically over the hills to La Mancha at those giant-like shapes, cialis 40mg they’ve caught our hearts as surely as Windy Miller once did, waving to us from the music box as an episode of Camberwick Green came on telly. Given the topicality of their gleaming three-pronged younger brothers, the turbines bedecking our beloved bemoorlands, eyes turned to Vestas’ factory on the Isle of Wight, I thought I’d glance back a little, to quieter ages.

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Illustrations by Jeffrey Bowman

They were the great technological innovation of the twelth century, at least in Northern Europe. The Persians had been happily pumping water with wind power 1500 or so years earlier, and the Greeks on the Cyclades out-sourced their grain grinding expertise to the mainland, charging a nifty 1/10 of the flour fee. Their three pronged modern successors are the best developed shot at renewable energy we’ve properly developed yet.

When you scratch the surface of windmill history, you come across the attractively-named International Molinological Society, whose members meet every four years or so to talk over anything from ‘oblique scoopwheels’ to industrial espionage – mill technology from the USA in the early 19th century was carried across the ocean by the German spies Ganzel and Wulff to form the start of a new development in european mill technology. Can you imagine the excitement and tension in that debriefing room?

Darrell M Dodge (of Littleton, Colorado)’s Illustrated History of Wind Power Development calls windmills ‘the electrical motor of pre-industrial Europe’. They did all sorts : pumping water from wells, for irrigation, or drainage using a scoop wheel, grain-grinding, saw-milling wood, and processing spices, cocoa, paints and dyes, and tobacco.

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To see the first main kind of northern european windmill, you can take a trip down to Outwood, Britain’s oldest still-functioning windmill, built in 1665 by Thomas Budgen of Nutfield. It’s a post mill : the whole body, weighing around 25 tons, rotates on a central post made of a single enormous oak tree, to bring the mill round into the wind.

The post mill was the most common design in the twelfth century, when they were just getting going (the first reference to a British windmill is in 1191). By the end of the thirteenth century, though, the masonry tower mill had been introduced. These had the neat innovation of a turning timber cap, built on a stone tower – so the moving bit was lighter, and the windmill could be built taller with larger sails to get more power.

William Cubitt was a curious engineer from Norfolk, obsessed with the efficient use of energy. He straightened out an unsatisfactory bit of canal north of Oxford, and invented the prison treadwheel, a device which perhaps sums up that mechanical, peculiarly Victorian vision that every cog and wheel of society should find its place, in workhouse, town house or courthouse. He installed the first one in Bury St Edmunds Gaol in 1819, followed enthusiastically by ones at Cold Bath Fields (London), Swaffham, Worcester, Liverpool and probably more besides.

On the more picturesque side of his engineering, in 1807, he invented and swiftly patented a new type of sail, known from then on as ‘Patent Sails’, which combined the innovations of a Scottish millwright, Andrew Meikle (‘descended from a line of ingenious mechanics’ according to his tombstone) and Stephen Hooper. Meikle developed spring sails in 1772 made of a series of parallel shutters that could be adjusted according to windspeed, and had springs which let them open a little more if the wind gusted. Hooper invented a device in 1789 which let the sails be adjusted without ever stopping – he called it the roller reefing sail. Patent Sails became the basis of self-regulating sails, avoiding the need for tiresome constant supervision – and proved successful. Windmills on this design outlasted steam power and the industrial revolution – they were still in use as drainage pumps on the Norfolk Broads until 1959.

So, though grinding grain for bread has mostly been swapped for juicing up the national grid, some of the old guard hold on. And though I’d love to get confused about upwind turbines and Betz limits – why exactly the new wind power is generated from only three pretty fine blades slicing through the sky, we’d best leave it there for now.

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 What is the magic formula that the Secret Garden Party have got their bejeweled mitts on? Having just spent a weekend with them – and 6, for sale 000 happy, friendly campers – I would go so far as to say that there are cosmic forces at work which have taken all the ingredients needed to turn a great festival into a glorious one. For those who are as yet uninitiated, The Secret Garden Party is ever so much more than a weekend away listening to top tunes. It’s a soul liberating free fall of wonderment and the bizarre; a playground for grown up children to indulge in fairy tales and fantasy. I succumbed to such an extent that I feared returning to the harsher edges of reality would be a painful bump, but it turned out that the magic dust managed to stick and I awoke Monday morning with a serious dose of the happy’s.

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Our arrival didn’t have the most auspicious beginning. What should have been a mornings car journey turned into a 6 hour stint on the M25 and M11, where roadworks defied us at every turn. By the time we dragged our sorry selves to the camp site we were tired, hot and irritable. “This better be bloody brilliant” I muttered to myself as I hastily assembled my tent. (minor lie – my wonderful Amelia’s Magazine colleagues assembled it; I couldn’t erect a tent if my life depended on it). Yet, as we walked into the site, all grumblings melted away.

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The afternoons dark clouds had gave way to a glowing sunset which bathed everyone in a soft light. Not knowing what to expect, we were instantly struck by how beautifully visual our new surroundings were. Every inch of the vast grounds are designed in a way that your senses take a direct hit every time you turn your head. The activities take place around a great lake; lit up at dark, and open for swimming by day. At the centre is a floating island, home to the Tower of Babel (which serves a very important purpose later on in the weekend). Feeling very much like a group of Alice’s heading down the rabbit hole to a more peculiar, colourful world, we ventured over bridges, through patches of woodland, past strange sculptures, finding cosy hiding spots wherever we went. And the outfits we saw! It is common knowledge that dressing up is encouraged at SGP, but I wasn’t prepared for the dizzy heights that many had taken their creativity. Thousands of people had clearly had a determined rummage in the dressing up box; glitter adorned most, fairies mixed with pirates who consorted with mythical creatures who hung out with boys in dresses and feathers who were making friends with girls in top hats and tails.

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Eventually, our adventures took us to the main stage, which was perfect timing, because Phoenix were headlining, and they were one of the must-see bands on my list for the weekend. Grabbing a delicious dinner to go (think Moroccan Mezze rather than greasy noodles or burgers), we found a patch on the hill to watch the French alternative rockers have such a great rapport with their audience that they invited a couple of hundred to get up on stage and sing along, until the stage was so full that the band had to climb up equipment to make themselves seen.

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The rest of the night was a heady mix of dancing, drinking, sometimes being spectators and sometimes participating. Our packed schedule of what to see gave way to a more relaxed amble, stopping off when something took our fancy. Translated – we stopped every 10 feet. As we found ourselves in the ‘salacious hothouse of Babylon’ (the region south of the lake), it was only to be expected that we were treated to earthy pleasures of the flesh; once we found the pole dancers, we were transfixed. The boys around us were almost too incredulous to be turned on. “My God, that girl must have thighs of steel!” I heard one marvel to his girlfriend.

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It’s hard to recall too much more about the night, but pictures document wild dancing on bales of hay to seventies disco tunes in a heaving tent, and discovering that the party was clearly going on in the wildly popular One Taste venue, home to a mixture of live beat-boxing and ska, cheering crowds, and a bar dispensing deliciously spicy chai teas. We watched night turn into morning on the Eden side of the lake, (also known as the oasis) in the Laa of Soft Things, a tent where straw bales doubled as fluffy clouds and turned us into rag dolls. Limbs entwined, friendships were quickly formed over the common ground of happy tiredness and sensory overload.

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Saturday dawned to brilliant sunshine, which made swimming in the lake an extra special and necessary experience. For those who wanted more than music, a multitude of informative events and discussions had been laid on, such as The Bohemian Artists Studio, The Poetry Playhouse, and the Dodge Ball Tournament, to name but a few. Early birds could participate in the yoga sanctuary, ( I think you can guess that we didn’t make that one). Instead, we lazed the afternoon away watching some of our favourite bands; Soku, The Dø, Slow Club (interviewed in Issue 9 of Amelia’s Magazine) and Noah and The Whale, as well as our newest discovery, Rodrigo Y Gabriela, described as acoustic folk rock metal, with a Spanish flamenco twist.

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The highlight of the weekend had to be the events of Saturday night. As dark descended, Thai lanterns were released into the air, floating away and burning bright. We followed the crowds towards the lake to witness the epic spectacle of The Burn; the wooden Tower of Babel set ablaze and lighting up the night sky. As the organisers of SGP explained, this was the marriage and the end of the divide between Babylon & Eden. The SGP team had obviously learnt a lot from their trips into the Nevada desert to take part in The Burning Man Festival, and this union of art, nature and performance was the perfect example of the box of tricks which the Secret Garden Party have up their sleeve.

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The weekend drew to a close for us in the sweetest way possible – getting to watch Au Revoir Simone play their beautifully crafted melodies to a rapt audience. The girls sound more divine with each listen, and treated us to the songs from their sublime new album Still Night, Still Bright. As our regular readers know, Au Revoir bring out the fangirl in Amelia’s Magazine, so I shamelessly sang along at the top of my lungs to their harmonies. Thank God their keyboards were loud enough to drown me out is all that I can say in sober hindsight. By the way, I thought the guy that I was standing next to was absolutely adorable, but I was a little shy about saying hello, so if you were wearing a straw hat and a baggy red jumper, and are reading this, then get in touch!

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All that is left to add is to encourage you all to do whatever you can to get your hands on a ticket to 2010′s SGP. The organisers are already promising that they will ‘blow our minds’ with what they have in store. I don’t doubt that for a moment. From now on, I have complete faith that what whatever the Secret Garden Party organises, it will be like nothing that you have ever experienced. Now if you will excuse me, I’m off to plan my outfits for next years festivities.

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Categories ,festival, ,phoenix, ,review, ,Secret Garden Party, ,summer

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Amelia’s Magazine | Review: Truck Festival 2011


Truck Monster Illustration by Barb Royal

Dancing like a loon to jungle music at 3am. Sitting next to a cornfield in the evening sunshine with a succulent burger in one hand and a cider in the other. No, for sale wait, getting some love from the Truck Monster…. no; feeling the love as the most perfect album in the entire history of recorded music was recreated live on stage…. I’m trying to sift through my favourite moments at Truck festival 2011, and I could sit here ad infinitum without coming any closer.

The weekend of July 22-24th is one of Summer’s prime time slots in the festival calender – if this was the telly, it would be the 7.30pm Eastenders or Corrie dilemma, so Truck has always run the risk of being overlooked by the bigger beasts of the festival scene, yet it has diligently carved itself a niche amongst good people who love great music. If I were to try to give Truck a unique selling point, I would say that it’s like attending the worlds hippest village fete (but with no pretentious ‘tude). Example? Next to the stage that Transgressive, Heavenly Records and Bella Union were curating the line-up, the local Rotary Club were serving up cups of tea and scones. At this rate, I wouldn’t have been surprised had I been served tea by a ray-bans wearing vicar.

This year, I brought a good friend who had previously only been to one festival (Glasto), so I was excited to see what she made of something a lot more intimate. Joining us for an all-too brief time was Amelia and her lovely boyfriend Tim, who I last saw at Wood Festival. Sharing the same ethos as Wood (which isn’t hard; they are run by the same family), Truck is a resolutely inclusive, family-friendly festival. Babies and tiny tots are held in high regard here, and are given plenty of fun activities and places to play, which must be a godsend for parents.

Illustration by Benbo


Amelia captures her crew in the early evening sunshine.


Photographs by Amelia Gregory

I noticed that Truck had expanded a fair bit, there were additions of a theatre space, a comedy and cabaret tent, (which I regretfully say that I didn’t give enough attention to – next year I promise!), as well as Wood Field, which was a little slice of Wood festival, curated by the Oxford Folk Festival and providing lots of environmentally friendly activities and workshops (and music of course)

Most of my time was spent by the Clash Stage. This was the place where Transgressive, Heavenly and Bella Union took turns in curating the days set list. I considered myself in safe hands with these three labels; the triumvirate of the independent music scene. I have nothing but respect and admiration for the people behind this. Not least because they nail it again and again and again. Transgressive had kicked proceedings off on Friday with acts like Gaggle, Peggy Sue, Johnny Flynn and Graham Coxon. Gaggle are a force to be reckoned with; I first saw the 20+ piece all-female performance art choir about a year ago at The Lexington and was completely transfixed. They exemplify everything great about being a woman; strong, loud, dynamic and passionate (with killer headgear), I found this photograph of Gaggle posing in the field above Truck to give you a sense of their presence.


photo by Andrew Kendall

Saturday was Heavenly Records turn to take care of us. When I was first really getting into proper music – after my Five Star faze – Heavenly were one of the first cases where I was intrigued by the label as much as the artists. Right from the get go, Heavenly had its finger on the pulse of the dreamy halcyon days of early 90′s indie-pop, underground and all matter of slightly letfield music. And they provided one of the biggest and unexpected highlights for me on Saturday night – Edwyn Collins. First of all, I had no idea how many songs of his I knew without actually realising who had sung them; of course his biggest hit was “A Girl Like You“, and his days with Orange Juice produced the glorious “Rip It Up And Start Again“, but apparently I’ve been singing along to many more of his hits over the last few years. Live, his set was faultless; it was energetic and fun and the audience were loving every minute. It was about halfway in that I suddenly remembered reading that Edwyn had suffered two strokes a few years ago and could not marry up the idea of suffering something so debilitating with the man on stage who was giving us such a wonderful show. After the weekend I learnt that after a stroke, a persons ability to sing can sometimes remain unabated. I left the set in absolute awe of this mans ability and talent.


photo by Andrew Kendall

Tearing ourself away from the Clash Stage for a hot second, we headed over to the Main Stage to catch Gruff Rhys who delivered a brilliant performance. I had never managed to see the Super Furry Animals live, so I was really happy to watch Gruff entertain us. Sensations in the Dark is one of those perfect songs where every second packs a punch – and it’s great to dance to. (Which we did of course).


Gruff Rhys Illustration by Barb Royal


Late Saturday night and the bars kicked into full swing, such as Kidstock (pictured above), home to several sambuca shots which fortified Anshu and myself for our next pit-stop – the Boxford dance tent. My lovely and kind friend Toby Kidd was DJing old skool jungle in a two hour set that led me to discovering that I can actually dance to jungle. (I’m well aware that photos exist that will disprove this belief, I’m just not going to show them to you).


Photo by Ian Taylor
Sunday was a blazing hot day and I spent the first part of the early afternoon watching bands from a horizontal position, whilst letting the good people at the Rotary Club feed me a late breakfast. (Not literally at the same time, that would be too sybaritic – even for me). Bella Union’s set was possibly my favourite over all, I loved Cashier No.9, who opened proceedings and have been playing a lot on 6Music recently. I hadn’t heard of Lantern’s On The Lake, but I really enjoyed their set – it was a mix of loud, jangly guitar and etherial shoe-gaze. In fact Lanterns took shoe-gaze to its most literal level – I didn’t get to see the lead singers eyes – she and her guitar were pointed resolutely at the floor, lost in the wall of sound that she was creating.

Alessi’s Ark is a favourite of Amelia’s Magazine and its contributors so I was eager to see her set as well. She has a sweet delicate sound that reminds me a little of Liz Fraser from Cocteau Twins, which is ironic seeing that the guitarists in the band founded Bella Union, the label that Alessi is signed to.


Alessi’s Ark Illustration by Barb Royal

While my friend went to chill out in the afternoon sunshine with a reflexology session, I made my way over to the Wood stage, where Rachael Dadd was performing songs from her new album Bite The Mountain. I’m feeling like a little bit of a Rachael groupie of late, having gone to both nights of her album launches, as well as watching the beautiful evening that she helped put on a few months ago to raise money for the Japanese tsunami appeal. So although I know most of her songs off by heart now, they still feel fresh with every listen.


Rachael Dadd Illustration by Tom Watson

The most epic part of the weekend took place on Sunday night. Over at the Main Stage, The Dreaming Spires were holding court. The band consists of Robin and Joe Bennett, the brothers behind Truck. Knowing these guys, I knew what they had up their sleeve after their blinding set, which made me very excited. So at 11pm, everyone rushed back to the Clash Tent, where alongside The Magic Numbers, Trevor Moss and Hannah Lou, and Sarah Cracknell of St Etienne, the band performed the entire album of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours. From start to finish, every second was magical. The audience sang along for most of the songs, or danced furiously. Watching the album being performed live, it made me realise how sonically perfect Rumours is; the composition of each song is faultless. The songs were sometimes sung en masse, or the various bands would take it in turn to sing. Of course, it wouldn’t be Truck if the Truck Monster didn’t come on stage and dance behind the band, which added a suitably surreal touch to proceedings. It was one of those moments that can never be captured again, and I’m so glad that I got to experience such musical craftsmanship.
All of a sudden, the festival was over for me, as I had to rush home. My spies tell me that me that those who stayed danced late into the night (or early into the morning), drawing to a close a beloved festival that gets everything right.

Photograph by Ian Taylor


Some girls get all the luck. Photograph by Carolina Faruolo

Categories ,Alessi’s Ark, ,Bella Union, ,Cashier No.9, ,Clash, ,Cocteau Twins, ,Edwyn Collins, ,festivals, ,fleetwood mac, ,gaggle, ,Graham Coxon, ,Gruff Rhys, ,Heavenly Recordings, ,Johnny Flynn, ,Lanterns On The Lake, ,live, ,Orange Juice, ,Oxford, ,Oxford Folk Festival, ,Peggy Sue, ,Rachael Dadd, ,Rumours, ,Sarah Cracknell, ,St. Etienne, ,summer, ,Super Furry Animals, ,The Dreaming Spires, ,The Magic Numbers, ,Transgressive Records, ,Trevor Moss and Hannah-Lou, ,Truck Festival, ,Truck Monster, ,Wood Festival

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Amelia’s Magazine | Lounge on The Farm: Festival Review

So what do you do after you’ve taken back the gown, viagra approved order after you’ve drunken all the champagne, seek there after your parents have cried as much as physically possible and you’ve uploaded all the pictures of your friends throwing their hats in the air onto Facebook? When you leave the warm bosom of your university institution after doing a creative degree what’s most important, page even more so than talent, (although that helps) is to surround yourself with likeminded individuals. This is something David Angus, Rafael Farias and Andrew Sunderland have kept in mind during their first year of university free existence. They all met at the Maidstone Campus of the University of the Creative Arts and have been working together under the name Bumf since they graduated.

How Bumf Collective works is that one member of the group sets a time limit and a rule and everyone makes a piece of work which must be viewable on the internet and not discussed until the project hand in. Rafael studied graphic design, Andy video media arts and Dave photography and media arts which means the work they show on the website is an interesting mix of the conceptual rule framework (1. Must be edible) and just brilliantly clever and simple design responses (a brain made out of bread titled Food for Thought)

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Food for Thought – Rafael Farias

“Basically we wanted to form a collective, but we have different ways of working. Raf is more graphic design based and I was more video and Dave is more photography so it wasn’t that we had a similar theme and we wanted to work together it’s that we wanted to make work separately almost against each other.” Andy tells me as we search for somewhere cheap (we are all struggling artists after all) to have a cup of tea in Bethnal Green where two out of three of them live.

They all admit to how hard they’ve found it since leaving full time education and with a big focus on photography and video for Dave and Andy lack of equipment is something they’ve struggled with.
“You instantly lose all facilities that you had, you lose your space to work in and it’s already harder. I was always in the dark room doing film and now most of the projects I do are digital and that’s annoying for me.”
“The one thing people say when you leave uni is to keep making work, you leave quite a structured environment. Coming out of university nobody cares about you.” It was from this realisation and the need to stop art from becoming “a kind of side project” because of the time demands of day-to-day life that Bumf was started.
The rules that govern the projects seem to have been implemented to make up for the loss of structure from leaving university. The rules can be anything from the fairly simple (the title must be Woman), to the more abstract (100 meters) and they increase every time. “We each start off doing a rule each and then we go onto two rules each and then three rules each and then we’re gonna keep going until we’re doing sixty rules each forever!” Andy tells me.

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Rafael Farias
Type-lace Typeface (Uppercase)

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David Angus
Untitled (Flash)

However what’s interesting is how the rules have been manipulated by each artist to meet their own interests and to challenge each other.
“What I found interesting when I set that typeface challenge was to see what someone who doesn’t do graphic design would come up with. Like with the edible project, it was so that they couldn’t use a camera to see what would happen.”
For this project all the artists had to create a typeface with a single found object. Rafael having trained in graphic design obviously found the project easy, creating a visually pleasing yet fully working alphabet. Interestingly Dave still managed to gear his work to photography by using as his found object a camera flash. He also managed to use the photographic process by making a contact print out of food colouring for the ‘must be edible’ rule.
“I find that each of us manages to fight our own corner for our own discipline. These two are always slagging off graphic design so I’m always fighting my corner, so it’s interesting to see how we represent our own backgrounds.” Rafael tells me.

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Andrew Sunderland
Portion #1 (Pink/Green)

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David Angus
5×4 contact on edible paper with food colouring

There are times though when the artists have been forced to completely change their practice, like the project in which the work couldn’t be anything manmade. With Andy and Dave relying heavily on video and stills cameras for their own practice they were forced to try something completely different. Dave turned guerrilla gardener with his East London turf work and Andy, in my favourite work from the website, documented bird pooh for the series Bird Made 1-6. It is in this way that the website becomes more than just a game and a way into making work and evolves into something that makes them challenge what ‘type’ of work they make and therefore what ‘type’ of artist they are.
“The thing that is almost annoying in art college is that there’s always this need to mould you into this polished artist. You get into a rut of making similar work and you have an idea but think if I do that it doesn’t look like any of my other work.”

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Andrew Sunderland
Bird Made 1

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Rafael Farias
Stone Fruit Family (Cherry, Plum, Peach, Apricot, Nectarine)

They started the website because they naturally wanted to index the projects, but it’s fast become a reason in itself for making work. Despite art often being a sensory and tactile experience with Charles Saatchi using his website as an ‘interactive art gallery’, and Amelia’s Magazine now showcasing new talent online, your computer is becoming an acceptable way of seeing art work. I ask them whether showing their work in this way effects the making of it.
“I think about it a lot, that’s graphic design for you, it’s all about presentation. There are a lot of things we don’t do because it wouldn’t look good on the internet. No one’s done anything really sculptural because it wouldn’t translate well.” Rafael tells me.
“Well the internet is the whole reason for doing it and it’s quite interesting that we put in a rule at the end which is that if you make anything physical, like an object then the work is the image of it. If you make a sculpture obviously you can’t put it on the internet. We make these things but all of them are very temporary. The one that I did with the skittles in the end we ate them.” Says Andy.

The group don’t see Bumf as their main focus, the name itself meaning “waste and all these little things that you either pick up or you don’t”. Not that the projects are throwaway, just that with all the artists heavily into process, the outcome isn’t their main concern.
“I don’t think the projects are there to make an amazing piece of work, they’re good but it’s more something to keep your mind in a creative flow.” Says Dave.
”I see it as a creative bookmark so it’s something that might not be finished, but I’ll bookmark the idea for another project.” Rafael adds.

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David Angus
Red, Green, Blue

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Rafael Farias
The Grass Is Always Greener (On The Other Side)

With our drinks empty and the boys needing to drop off work for an exhibition at BASH Studios I ask them if they have any advice for new graduates.
“Yeah keep making work!” Exclaims Andy. “Even if it’s bumf keep making it because it means keeping up that creative process. If you don’t make anything for a year it can be really hard to get that back. Follow the Bumf rules and send it us!”

A website and some friends is all you need to avoid falling into a black hole of obscurity, you heard it here first! To look at all Bumf projects past and future or to view the individual artist’s work, click the links to their websites.

Thumbnail: David Angus – East London Turf
Having emerged from the Farm, symptoms picking straw out of my hair and ears still ringing, my first thought was – well, to have a bath – and then, to tell everyone I know how amazing Lounge was this year, and how I wish I was still sat beneath the stars, listening to Gong with my cup of tea.

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Lounge is very much a local festival, for local people, and local bands were very well represented in every tent. Our weekend kicked off with The Psychotic Reaction, who hail from Whitstable and make a sound like no other…part Joy Division, part librarian rock, they sing of the cupboard under the stairs, hand-me-downs and the trials and tribulations of living in a small town. The Boxing Octopus, all from Herne Bay, brought in the funk on Saturday morning, and had the whole Furthur Tent dancing before noon – quite an achievement! Syd Arthur put on an absolutely amazing show, their haunting psychedlia filling the Furthur Field.

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So often their songs deceive you, starting off laid-back and mellow and becoming all encompassing tidal waves of sound to sweep you off into the stars and beyond…Dancing to their soul-filling songs in a field full of hippies is certainly an experience I won’t forget for a while! Current torch-holders for the Canterbury sound, they’ve moved on from Wilde Flowers and Soft Machine (well, it’s been forty years) but not without using their influence for good and emerging with mellow yet powerful tunes to sway to, dance to or completely lose yourself in. These guys are also part responsible for the Furthur Tent and creating the atmosphere which makes the Furthur field so unique. Back in the Sheep Dip, The Ukelele Gangstas rocked their pimp hats and tiny guitars, while Hotrods and Dragsters brought out the hula girls.

Oh, the music? We shimmied and jived to the upbeat blues they were rocking, as did the rest of the tent and shame on the fools who missed out. Dropping the beats in the Bar tent was Mr. Wolfe, a young Canterburian with beat-boxing skill that begged the question ‘Why only an interlude?!’ Hopefully, next year, a longer set for Mr. Wolfe, preferably in the Hoedown. (Oh, if I ruled the festival world…) The coup, for me, in terms of Canterbury bands though, was Gong. Nothing prepares one for the rambling, overwhelming psychedelic journey that the progenitors of the Canterbury sound produce, short of a cup of mushy tea.

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We sat in the Furthur field watching the stars, lights and pixies in their teapot taxies fly past – definitely the perfect way to experience a band whose music often seems to lose its train of thought and ends up at quite a different station to the one you bought a ticket for…

There were a few bands who travelled further than five miles to perform at Lounge, and while nothing beats home-grown talent, they did pretty well. I did drop in on Mr. Scruff who played a six hour set, perfect for dipping in and out of like a hobnob in early grey. He began the afternoon with laid-back beats, working up to a dirtier evening set which got the crowd moving. He doesn’t look quite as cartoon-esque in person, either. Upon hearing the cry ‘The Aliens are in the Cowshed’, it didn’t take me long to head there for a good look, and well worth it too. Comprised of three members of The Beta Band, they mix psychedelia and rock with a smattering of cheery choruses (chori?) into a sound which creeps up behind you and pokes you ‘til you dance. Jouis surprised us at the Further tent, starting off with some spoken word, creepy fairground-esque songs, then switching singers and moving into a more sixties groove – perfectly complemented by the guttural, earthy tones of ‘the hipipe’ as I dubbed him.

After chatting to the sax player, we were directed towards Jonquil – two lads, a keyboard and trumpet – whose music reminded us of Patrick Wolf, but less whiny. They generate a mellow, organic ambience wherein you can almost see the layers of sound filling the tent (or equivalent!). Far and away the best set of the weekend though (closely followed by Mr. Wolf) were Alessi’s Ark. One girl, her guitar, an incredible voice, and the Ark. Her melody-led lyrical stylings are whimsical and sweet, but never sugary, and she was hardly phased when someone with trousers on their head and shoes on their hands wandered in, telling them the next song Dancing Feet was perfect for them. Talking of libraries and similes, her lyrics were ideal for cleansing my mind of all that psychedelia… I spent my last pennies on her album, which came in a cd sized knitted bag!, and only just had enough left for dinner.

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Talking of food, Lounge on the Farm cannot be faulted in that department. Almost all the food is locally sourced by local people. Merton Farm had their own barbecue stall, – ‘Less than a mile from gate to plate!’ – which we bypassed on the way to Al’s Hogroast. Does the fact I was vegetarian for a month prior to the festival say more about the deliciousness of the soft white bap, filled with freshly roasted pork, smearings of apple sauce and dollops of stuffing…Sorry, where was I? Food! Yes. Wonderful stuff. Vegetarians were equally well catered for with the Good Food Café on hand providing soups, sandwiches and beetroot brownies. I had a very filling cous-cous sald with chickpeas and pitta from some lovely ladies who admitted to never having done anything like that before, in between belting out eighties classics…Tasty food though. For breakfast we went to Strumpets with Crumpets, delightful women serving baked goods in corsets – Eggy-fried crumpets with cinnamon and icing sugar?! My favourite. And they did tea too. Tea, and caffeine lovers, were not forgotten – The Tea Temple gave good brew, though no homemade flapjacks this year. Luckily, the Mole Hole Café, an eco-sustainable café up in the Furthur Field, had biscuits for ten pence as well as chocolate brownies and squishy strawberry cheesecake. Enzo’s Bakery provided us with gorgeous pastries, chocolate filled lobster tails and pain au chocolate, while Ana’s Sweets served Portuguese style desert, and the most divine cheesecake ever, according to my thorough researchers. And, as always, the Groovy Movie Picture Tent could be relied upon for chocolate fudge cake, infinitely strange films, and yet more tea, well past everyone else’s bedtimes.

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The Groovy Movie Picture Tent is the only solar powered cinema in the UK and makes it aim to play independent films, animations and documentaries. This year’s top GMPT picks have to be Nina Paley’s Sita sings the Blues, which switches between a heartbroken New Yorker, gossiping Hindu gods, and Sita, singing the blues. The film is available for free at Ninapaley.com and is well worth the perusal. On Friday night, after Gong, the GMPT held an exclusive airing the BBC South East documentary about the Canterbury Sound; featuring interviews with Daevid Allen, Kevin Ayers and Steve Hillage as well as Joel and Liam Magill or Syd Arthur- passed to the tent only an hour before the showing. Highly informative and worth a watch, especially if you have no idea about the Sound to which I keep referring!

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This year’s Lounge was definitely the best so far, and between running around from bands to burlesque, burlesque to fire shows, fire shows to portaloos, we also managed a lot of lounging- although I never did find the petting zoo. Still, Lounge on the Farm is only getting better and if I could get a lifetime ticket, I would. In the meantime, The Farmhouse will just have to tide us over until next year.

Photos by Amelia Wells

Categories ,Festival, ,Folk, ,Indie, ,Kent, ,Review, ,Summer

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Amelia’s Magazine | Sandalgaze the Summer Away! The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, album review.

The eponymous release from New York based The Pains of Being Pure at Heart has everything you could want from a summer album. A certain been-in-the-sun-too-long hazy-headyness without the too-much-ice-cream sugariness of many indie-pop summer albums. No-No! I’m rallying for The Pains of Being Pure at Heart being trail-blazers for a new genre we shall call ‘Sandalgaze” aka Shoegaze for when it’s not raining out.

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From the rip-roaring opener ‘Contender’, buy more about the album manages to be catchy without being twee, shop noise without being dreary, imagine My Bloody Valentine on a beach doo-wopping and you’re halfway there.
Whilst treading this line The Pains of Being Pure at Heart consistently avoid being schmaltzy. The track; Young Adult Friction is danceable, its lyrics of a whimsy worthy of Stuart Murdoch yet reflect on themes like first love with a sort of yearning nostalgia, again souring the sweetness. Here the oft-overdone boy/girl singing duo is slightly off-kilter and the effect is more reminiscent of early Yo La Tengo or Jesus and Mary Chain than Belle & Sebastian.

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The Pains of Being Pure of Heart is definitely tinged with nods towards the 80s and early 90s,yet it is perhaps too easy to criticise the album for this. The band manage to utilise certain stylistic tropes without being too retrospective or shallow.
In fact The Pains of Being Pure at Heart is refreshing in it’s redefinition of certain preconceptions: summer isn’t all about whistling and tambourine jangling anymore and Shoegaze is reinterpreted with a sunny touch rather like enjoying a 99 flake with Kevin Shields!

The album ‘The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’ is available now and the single ‘Young Adult Friction’ is released on 18th May (Fortuna Pop!)
They play The Lexington, London on 15th May

Categories ,album, ,belle and sebastian, ,jesus and mary chain, ,my bloody valentine, ,new york, ,review, ,shoegaze, ,summer, ,the pains of being pure heart

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