Field Day 2013

It's a bad sign at a festival when, of your core group of people, you're the best informed despite having heard of at most only 30% of the lineup.

It's also a bad sign when your core group gets any bigger than four, as you're likely to spend more time dithering than seeing anything, and compromise is definitely going to be a feature.

My hitlist for Field Day was:
Arrival - 14.15: Whatever takes my fancy
14.15: Metz
15:00 Chvrches
16:10 Savages
16:50 Daphni
17.45 onwards: Whatever takes my fancy

My number one priority was Savages, as they've been garnering comments like an American with fat ankles over at The Quietus.

The day got off to a good start: I managed to get my girlfriend to pick a jacket and get out the door, and we arrived at Victoria Park around 13:20.

After a bit of a mooch about, we ended up listening to a band who, according to the girl in front of me and contrary to the schedule were "Definitely not Palma Violets". I didn't think much to them, so we went off to get a good spot for Metz.

I didn't think much of Metz either when I saw them back in February, as recounted in this shitdribble of a post. But that was mostly because I spent twice as long getting to the venue as they spent playing, so I was feeling pretty grumpy and ungenerous. Metz at Field Day was a completely different story.

The band again didn't play for very long, but this time that was because they were limited by the schedule to just 20 minutes. They stated their intention to give the crowd - which was a decent swell - the best value they could, and boy did they deliver.

After the soporific "Definitely not Palma Violets", Metz were like a bucket of ice water to the genitals. They came out kicking, and in no time at all they had a sizeable mosh pit going on just in front of us, with bottles and even shoes flying every which way.

 They played at a relentless pace, despite having "drunk too much in Amsterdam" the day before, and by the end of their 20-minute slot lead singer Alex Edkins looked completely spent. The crowd was very much appreciative, and the band got the most intense cheer I heard all day. They were nothing short of heroic.

At this point serious communication difficulties kicked in. We were supposed to be meeting a mate, but the sheer density of people trying to do the same made the task impossible. It was like trying to fit 50 000 people through a cat flap. My phone all but crumpled itself into a ball and chucked itself in the bin. To reflect that, the rest of this post will be written in snapshot...

Went to Chvrches, but hung around back in case a text got through. Chvrches very cool, sweet singer, will buy album. Abandoned after 20 minutes to try to find friend.

Finally found friend wandering lost and alone. Hugging took place.

Found friend's other friends, again by pure chance. Missed Savages. Group adopted stray Australian who wanted to see something at the Desperados bar. Missed Daphni.

Went to heaving Desperados bar, shook head, stayed outside for a while and got free Desperados. Decided Desperados are shit.

Gave in to group desire to see Solange, gifting self curry by way of recompense.

Ditched Solange after 10 minutes, went to see Vondelpark. Ditched Vondelpark after 5 minutes, went to see Kurt Vile. Enjoyed Kurt Vile, who ended after 3 minutes.

Enjoyed some Everything Everything. Went to see Disclosure on recommendation of random Australian. Lack of pills = lack of enjoyment, went back to main stage to see Bat for Lashes for everyone's third time.

Bat for Lashes typically good: sexy, assured, not sufficiently appreciated by idiot main-stage crowd.

More food. Five minutes of Four Tet, then tried to see Django Django. Don't know what happened to Django Django. No Django Django.

Saw most of Fucked Up. Typically top-notch; Pink Eyes on great form as usual.

Watched some Animal Collective, didn't understand what they were trying to achieve. Bailed to avoid exit crowds.

Got home. Drank tea. Went to bed.

Thank you Metz.

Metz at Birthdays

I spent twice as long getting to this gig as Metz spent playing. 

We'd intended to catch the support too, but there were six of us and you know how that goes. We tried going to Jan's Bar for some Belgian beers early on, but the place appears to have shut down without bothering to say anything on its website. Which is helpful.

So then we went to the Jolly Butchers, which Gig Buddy had previously seen listed as one of the top ten pubs in the UK. And rightfully so. They have a selection of beers the likes of which I've never seen, and decent seating to boot. It's a hell of a pub.

Which might go some way to explaining why we were about an hour later than planned for our curry at Rasa, which in turn explains why we were late for Birthdays. Damn you excellent beers and superb food!

So we arrived at Birthdays about five minutes before Metz began. I'd never heard of the place before, and neither had GB. And no wonder, frankly. Having made straight for the bar on arrival, I turned around once I'd been served, only to discover that where I was already at was as close to the stage as I would be getting, given the layout.

Now, the blame is no doubt ours, for dwelling on our pre-gig beers and south-Indian food for far too long, but Birthdays as a venue is nothing more than an oblong hole in the ground. It's like a shoebox with the band as the toes and you as the scrunched up paper stuffing the holes before the feet come in. It's a tunnel, in other words.

I may be partisan. Birthdays could be to a Stokey resident as my beloved Brixton Windmill is to me - a place that exceeds its immediate charms by virtue of delivering a certain standard of music night after night after night. But it's hard to guess at that. For me, Birthdays was just a long hole where, after traveling 80 minutes, I then stared at the back of people's heads while a band played for half that time.

In fairness to Metz themselves, they were pretty damn good. If you like reverb-heaviness - and who doesn't - then you'd certainly have dug them. They were a bit noisy and had a bit of attitude and got things a bit rowdy - from what I could tell way back by the bar.

And alright, I may actually even be doing the venue a disservice. My mate and I ordered some thing called Briska initially, which turned out to be a cider rather than a beer, and that soured things right off. But the place allowed us to rectify that mishap and then some by stocking some SF Liberty Ale, and where else sells that? No other venue I could name.

But then I'd hoped to at least be able to pick up some music by the support bands from the merch station afterwards, and that was another disappointment, by then at least if not earlier too, as it offered nothing but Metz stuff. The support were apparently Fair Ohs and The Wytches, and I will check them out  tomorrow when I sober up a bit. And maybe I'll try listen to Metz's album again too, given that in this environ I'll actually have a clue what's going on....