Brenton
Woodford Folk Festival
January 30th 2007 05:21
Sorry this one has been so long coming...
Somebody had stolen a plastic McDonalds sign and strapped it upside down to their tent, to appropriate it as a big W for Woodford.
This simple act spoke volumes about the Woodford Folk Festival experience. In the same way as the position of the M was physically opposite to the way it would have been in the store, the entire philosophy of Woodford was antithetic of McDonalds.
McDonalds is common, where Woodford is precious. McDonalds is insincere and plastic, where Woodford is oozing with authenticity and pure raw emotion.
There was one night, I remember more powerfully than any other. I sat outside the Internet Café, wearing my Pikachu beanie and huge googly eye glasses, deeply sleep deprived, waiting for a chance to get in and release some words bursting to escape me.
When I got in, this is what I wrote:
It was the concert, in the Chai tent. The people had let themselves into it, opened the vibe, let themselves feel it. Dancing, shouting. Sweat slick on exposed flesh. I allowed the question; if this carried on, if it extremified and heightened, would we turn into animals, into creatures? The answer, I allowed myself; hopefully yes.
It was later. She had brought out her drum, and the jamming started. The people were dancing and singing... I was there, a drum between my legs, beating away. It was true - the people had become animals - but not in any traditional sense of the concept - no pack of rats or monkeys or panthers was this, but Human animals, Human's as animals. Exposing their basest most primal natures. Emotion. Sexuality. Connection. Music. Above all music. Love. Joy. Passion. All base, primal urges to express, always held up, bound tight by what is appropriate, what is proper. It was night, the music was a vibration that shot through the skin. The smell of marijuana drifted gently past now and then. The dancers moved to their own tune, their own desires. Their own animal nature.
So that now; I can be calm. I can look at the more civilised, more entrepreneurial and developed aspects of humanity - The Courier Mail and New devices to destroy human life - and grin, and stare into them, as they slowly fade away from me, as they are drowned out by the sound of drums, beating away in a frenzy of pure energy that gave me more than could ever be put into words.
IMAGE
This simple act spoke volumes about the Woodford Folk Festival experience. In the same way as the position of the M was physically opposite to the way it would have been in the store, the entire philosophy of Woodford was antithetic of McDonalds.
There was one night, I remember more powerfully than any other. I sat outside the Internet Café, wearing my Pikachu beanie and huge googly eye glasses, deeply sleep deprived, waiting for a chance to get in and release some words bursting to escape me.
When I got in, this is what I wrote:
It was the concert, in the Chai tent. The people had let themselves into it, opened the vibe, let themselves feel it. Dancing, shouting. Sweat slick on exposed flesh. I allowed the question; if this carried on, if it extremified and heightened, would we turn into animals, into creatures? The answer, I allowed myself; hopefully yes.
It was later. She had brought out her drum, and the jamming started. The people were dancing and singing... I was there, a drum between my legs, beating away. It was true - the people had become animals - but not in any traditional sense of the concept - no pack of rats or monkeys or panthers was this, but Human animals, Human's as animals. Exposing their basest most primal natures. Emotion. Sexuality. Connection. Music. Above all music. Love. Joy. Passion. All base, primal urges to express, always held up, bound tight by what is appropriate, what is proper. It was night, the music was a vibration that shot through the skin. The smell of marijuana drifted gently past now and then. The dancers moved to their own tune, their own desires. Their own animal nature.
So that now; I can be calm. I can look at the more civilised, more entrepreneurial and developed aspects of humanity - The Courier Mail and New devices to destroy human life - and grin, and stare into them, as they slowly fade away from me, as they are drowned out by the sound of drums, beating away in a frenzy of pure energy that gave me more than could ever be put into words.
IMAGE
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Comment by Ash
Flashes of memories
Comment by Brenton
Dr Spin
Tales From The Other Side
Blip Blog
Gadget Museum
Did you see the girl in a bikini dancing atop the tables? She was one of the drum players. Friend of mine. & I was there too.
Haha, I probably passed you by so many times.
Comment by Anonymous
look forward to this year, who knows may see you there!
Comment by Ash
Flashes of memories
Comment by Brenton
Dr Spin
Tales From The Other Side
Blip Blog
Gadget Museum
Who was that band you mentioned? Were they the one with massive Xylophones, or the funky one before cloud nine? Or one I missed?
Comment by Ash
Flashes of memories
Yeah Jambezee have those big Xylophones or marimba`s as they are called. I was only there for one night - Friday I think it was and they were on really late.
Comment by Brenton
Dr Spin
Tales From The Other Side
Blip Blog
Gadget Museum
England should be the bomb, yeah.