Pitshots camden rocks 2018

camden rocks 2018

a mostly inebriated assortment of from the hip pissed iphone shots from this year’s camden rocks festival. always a good laugh and a great day out. however, the line up this year was a little short on anything too challenging or new. in short, there was quite a lot of meh mor, hackneyed hair rock and old punks who really should know better. still, managed to find some cracking stuff among the moribund and masturbatory. apologies to carcer city and bad sign for not being included. clashes. bastards. anyway strap yourself in, pour yourself a cider or four (for authenticity and vr exeprience). here’s how i (kind of) saw the day.

sleep token - electric ballroom

Let’s get the wanky sleep deity bollocks out of the way first. To this day, I’m not sure if it’s a piss take or a pretentious, unnecessary, painful and bizarre attempt to be mysterious. Anonymous. ev Yes. Ish. I . er at Wh h.

Me s? sk Ma .

Ok Intriguing. just wish they’d ditch it. Right, that’s said and done. What we actually have is s stunningly original mash up of incredible contrasts. ‘Vessels’ vocals are versatile, powerful, pathos-packed, beautiful, PASSIonATE spine-tingling and genuinely world class. The mash up of Blue Nile-esque sparse and beautiful E-LE_CT~RONIC_A and huge djenty interludes and cadenzas is breathtaking. Ok, they HAVE to be careful th a t t h e s o n g s t r u c t u r e s d o n’t beco m e t o o w i t h s o fter, am b i e n t g o r g e o u s n e s s g i v i n g way to ba l l c r u s h i n g d o w n t u n e d 7 s tring ki c k s i n t h e d a n g l e r s - b u t w ith a co u p l e o f n e w t u n e s o n s h o w today, it l o o k s l i k e t h e y ’ v e d e f i n itely ad d r e s s e d t h a t . T o t a l l y m e s merising.

As t o n i s h i n g a n d o r i g i n a l . W h at a way to kick off the day.Deity? nah. B r i l l iant? y u p

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gold key - dingwalls

After sleep deities, hoods, masks and all the emotion of Sleep Token, it’s time to get the Swarfega , an oily rag, dirty fingernails and the whiff of engine oil, tequila and sweat into the nostrils.

Steve Sears is a musical chameleon and has fingers in more pies than the bloke that got fired by Ginsters for putting his fingers in lots of pies. But Gold Key are his latest project and it’s pared back, honest, grimy, heartfelt bedroom rock and roll. Flanked by familiar faces from Sears’ myriad other expeditions, (Lags, Nervus’s Jack Kenny and Sikth’s James Leach) they plough through an energetic, and no frills proper rock set. Taking in anthemic and catchy but always edgy tracks like Creep In Slowly, The Shape, Mess and Kerosene, the quartet are clearly enjoying themselves. No backing tracks, gimmicks, triggered bollocks or trickery, this is straight up, gonads out rock and bloody roll. And it’s great. Ok, some of the riffery borders on that shit lot of coked up twats from Leicester who go on Soccer AM, but that’s forgiven. Always a heart and soul man, whether it was Spy Catcher, The Hell or producing bangers for others, Mr Sears is a genuine gem and Gold Key are jewels who definitely sparkle. Albeit a bit grimy.

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press to meco - dingwalls

all the right buttons

familiar ground diffusion of responsibility if all your parts don’t make a whole itchy fingers a place in it all howl a quick fix affinity here’s to the fatigue

Ok, I’ve been a bit mean abou the line up. Well, most of it , But to be honest, as soon as I

saw

Press To Meco on the bill, it was a given that tight restraint of Defying and straddling any Camden was going to be home for the day. This lot utiful, beastly genres, there’s old, new, bea are everything young British music should be There are hints of brash and, well, brilliance. about. Intelligent, experimental, fun, edgy, a kids) and Yes, Budgie (ask yer grandp superb songwriting, stagecraft, personality, beautifully with even Queen but all mixed up stunning musicianship. And, well, those harmonies. choppy, metalcore heavy , syncopated guitars, Oh Lordy. So, nothing to live up to then? ne tingling riffs, poppy tunefulness, spi From the moment the trio take to the stage in a ’ particularly) anthems (‘a place in it all packed sweathole on a sultry Saturday afternoon, ion harmonic and the sumptuous aforement it’s clear we’re in the presence of something ly fresh, truly orgasms. Truly original, tru special. Something very special. able. talented. Just truly remark .

Surely only hugeness awaits

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so nic bo o m six - the under wo r ld

And en Streets. d m a C e l b a r e vene and down th as a p u e b i v y haps damned r e P . x i It’s a part S m ic Boo is some Son s te a d e e n y t r pa n that. Qui a h t e r o m what every t a bi re actually ’ y d e h t , d n a powerful an ty b r , a t p n e a d i f r o t s t bi ormal la is her n i e L e v i t u a n he dimi delighting d n a g n bit more. T i k o ing, p self. Cajol z ng z i f f o l al king, singi r a b , g n i v energetic b o rong m ting the th t e g d n a d l rwor rammed Unde oth thinking. t of the fr o l a d n and, well, i h e ning b serious mea d n a s e g a s es may not be, t i e c i o v There are m n spoke night Urban e t a l , e p with r o rd c d wrapped u n a s e and fun. Ha u s s i nfront r shy to co e v e n e r a ng and t eaty, smili but this lo w s e l p o e p y leave nd ska, the a s r a t i re. u g heavy tail for su k c o c g n i d n d-expa A heady min . d e g n e l l a ch

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h acktivist - the unde r wor ld

a s u o e g r o g e , r y n g e n g ru s g s o , r n y Grim and of c y, beddi b a da s n i a a h t t i to n g i n r i e e r w u t g call n e in v r e I f f bs a that vist su d n a i r t e k h ea t l e Hac i n x i a M d e t k o a J e s so d i n w a t y ee e r l t r s u nt H d e e j l d i a y t v e a v e o h d r, k e r v a e m n an trade should b a , m r o e r p f l a p t f e o s l g l n i i b r d e t ir e w e at th

r o f e im t s u o s u r t e l b u m e um m t g on a n i i t n d a e n d u i be o p f e s r ’ , t t I es f g me . o n o g a s n s h i r c h o t g ea p i f u w l w l y e o s i n n l a t a i l w s L i t p u . it , B s a , and s t o ’ . s h S J d i t l m i . o r alche w talent Underwo thered w . The tw o r d y, m ne e e t s t k i n t c l d i e a a b p n An o ng d y s . e e l r d h d e e e t n t p b u u r o l t o s i ve l o r p e abso n put t s d v e e n n ir er o e o y e h o a v , t s l a t h a h s h t re s e y t i i m e w l y h n b h T r io nt A . t o d h c r . n t o f e a n er c m i g n e o s s n o h s p i c t a f r y m en l o h , le o r t s d h c. f t d i n d s i t u d n a m s a A l a s b a i . nt h s l a s t e a F k o c c s d . i n ti te t u s e F i lyr l y p . k l m e o sh or n c e w i r u t F t n a u B ge e. th t . i h k h c r s i o h w w k’ r n e e u v p o ‘ ev m e ol h o t k s n nd o rsed old a e m a l

p .i.l. - th e ele c tr ic ba llr oom

i r r e l e v a n t . anachronistic. p reten tious. em ba r r a sing . shit. just stop. ple a se.

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Finishing me off for the day are the super supergroup with the chassis melded together from two of the greatest and most important bands in the UK for the last couple of decades. Man that makes me feel old. But Reuben and Hundred Reasons led the UK alt rock scene from the front back in the day. Along with bands like Colour, Hell Is For Heros and Meet Me In St Louis and Vex Red it felt like a genuine change had blown over the atrophying musical landscape in the UK. And with a doffed cap, a lump in my throat and a tear in my tired old eyes that I’m transported back to those days tonight. But this isn’t some sort of nostalgic, backward looking resistance movement.

At all.

While there’s obvious alt DNA in the skinny genes of FTA, there’s still a freshness, a twinkle in the eye. the feeling that, terminatorlike, there’s a momentum growing to get back to not necessarily the same music but the same spirit, the same steadfast conviction to be alternative and not give a fuck.

To be brilliant musicians and not feel embarrassed or marginalised by that. In fact, to celebrate it. Complex rhythms, interesting and challenging chord progressions, genre-rejecting collectivism and unashamed melody overlaid with visceral power. While FTA are still with us, there’s still hope. Every young band doing the toilet tour should look and learn from this band of belligerent and beautiful brothers.

A-bloody-men.

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All done for fun and love. I’m an opinionated, often boorish pain in the arse.

But I love music. Especially live music. So this lookbook is just a reflection of my personal opinions and musings. Ok, I’ve been a bit shitty about the line up of Camden Rocks this year. But I genuinely have nothing but respect for the guys and gals who put on this festival. This tour-de-force of organisation, logistics and catering for different tastes and demands. Chapeau indeed. A truly wonderful event. And long may it continue. And, as I say, it’s opinions.

One person’s love is another’s pile of steaming turd. But they’re just opinions. Everyone involved with proper music does it for one underlying reason; their love for it. And for that they all need respect. And love.

It’s so easy to criticise. To be difficult. To be a cunt. But it’s bloody difficult to get on stage. Or behind the control desk. Or to face a blank lyric pad. So, while I’m being apparently über-nasty to old skool punk*, we’re all brothers and sisters and all need to co-exist and live with a code of mutuality and bonhomie. And Camden Rocks brings all genres and sub genres together.

And for that, I’m as truly thankful as I am impressed. A great day out. With a great many different bands, fans, beers, tears and, yeah, opinions.

But all united under one banner. Isn’t music fucking fantastic? Peace. Bwoooar.

Thanks to Dwoooarf for additional images. Talking of images, please feel free to steal or reappropriate any of them. Ok, they’re a bit shit. Well, what do expect from an iPhone driven by pissed blokes?

* pil were honestly really shit though

camden rocks 2018