Sometimes you just know that you’re at the start of something special…
Well, here I am, at the start of the first of four Festival’s to be held by the ‘Bulmershe Massive’ (whoever they are…) over the summer of 2000. I’ve been promised burnt food and free music. But no free love? When will our generation rekindle the flame lit by our parents’ generation, back in the sixties? Oh well, for now I will have to settle for a dodgy looking sausage in a floury bap, and music provided by some of Reading’s finest. But how will these electric bands, so dependent on pedals, amps, and ‘special effects’ fare in this acoustic setting?
The first act to grace our ears consists of Ian Cowley on guitar (did I say acoustic? Ah. Well, some of them are electric, but they did turn the amp down…) with Dan and Tim Junction, knocking out tunes. Some are familiar, some dreamt up as the music leads them, with Ian’s gentle guitar playing beautifully complementing the insidious rhythms set up by Dan and Tim. Already the mood is set, as I swap undercooked cow flesh for canned beer and smokes.
So, the headliners and house band take to the stage next. And the first real challenge for the night, as Ned Junction is the first vocalist to try and sing acoustic tonight. Time to take the Pepsi challenge. The band look at each other, are they ready for the intimate appraisal their audience will be able to make of their musical skills? Marc calls out the rhythm (while playing acoustic guitar, a man of too many talents); Dan strikes the first note. The audience holds its collective breath as Ned closes his eyes and lets out the first warble. And its note perfect and carries across the field (OK, yard) perfectly. Bit of a disappointment really. I was kind of hoping for a bit of a Beadle moment, y’know, feel a little less in awe, and see these guys as the same kind of farty joes the rest of us are. And here they are knocking out effortless beauty in the perfect setting of the starry night. Life can be so unfair.
We’re treated to a set of Junction originals and favourite covers. One minute we’re listening to Dreamless Midsummer’s Night, then its crowd pleaser Ripcord. Ned’s voice does not falter once, and he even turns his hand to the bongo’s and some kind of home made rattle thing (looks like a Tupperware box with rice in it, and it probably is). Dan sends our spirits soaring with some gorgeous fretwork, while Tim and Marc keep our feet tapping with some subtle and intelligent working of the rhythms. The atmosphere here is turning into something special. You can see, by the looks on their faces, the audience being carried away from the day-to-day humdrum into a sonic paradise. People’s faces are starting to glaze over, and it’s no surprise with the sounds we’re being treated to.
After Junction we have Steal, a kinda folk-rock outfit, part Corrs, part Fleetwood Mac. I have to confess my ignorance of the band at this point, I know the Violinist is called Rachel, but have no idea of their song titles, or any other details about this band. Some journalist I’m turning out to be! But after the acoustic rock out of Junction, and the blues harmonies of Ian Cowley and Friends, this more soulful, folky sound is a nice reprieve, and fits the moment beautifully. The singer’s vocals are gentle on the ear, just carrying across the ether of the night to gently soothe our troubled hearts (I realize I’m getting carried away, but that’s the reviewer’s prerogative). Supported by the ghostly melody supplied by the violin, and the gossamer rhythms supplied by the acoustic guitar, you can’t help but feel an inner calm. Shit, I’m even starting to sound like a hippy! All I need is the free love and it’s ’69 all over again! No? Go on, it won’t take long…
Ouch! So, with my cheek now burning from the slap (that I deserved) Steal are exiting stage right, and the night is getting long. Look, I’ll cut to the chase, but only because by this point your ever-professional journo is a bit the worse for wear, thanks to the booze and the rest, so my notes don’t make much sense at this point. Hey, you wanted me to give you the atmosphere of the event, didn’t you? Well, I had to get into the spirit of things to do that, didn’t I? You just don’t appreciate the lengths I go to for you…
Where was I? Oh yeah, cutting to the chase. The rest of the evening (it goes on to around 4am, I think…) we have impromptu sets from various members of the three acts, but mostly from Dan and Ned Junction. Tim Junction, the little trooper, has been playing tonight despite a touch of flu and an early trip the next day to Rotterdam, and by this point he’s out of energy. ‘Coarse, it could also be all the alcohol he’s imbibed by this point, but he’s too professional for that…
So the various artists jam, and I’ve run out of adjectives describe how beautiful and sensuous the music is. How do I go about describing the feelings we’re exposed to tonight? People keep telling me what an amazing time they’re having, without being asked. Everyone seems to have a beatific grin on their face. You feel like you’re sharing something special, yet you cannot put your finger on it. If you try to explain it, you start to feel self-consciously silly. I mean, it’s just a bunch of musos in someone’s back yard, knocking out tunes, right. Doesn’t sound special, does it? Oh, but it is…
The night starts to slow down, as the alcohol drains away, and Ned is singing, a cappella (don’t ask what, I can’t remember, and it didn’t matter, all that mattered was the beauty of the sounds). Later, Dan takes a solo spot, playing call and play. The audience calls for Norwegian Blue, and Dan plays it (and never has the song sounded more beautiful than tonight). They call for American Pie. Dan obliges. There were others. So many others. I couldn’t hope to capture the feeling of being here (if I was that good, I’d expect to make a living from it). I can’t explain the beauty (yes, I realize how many times I’ve used that word in this review, but never has an event deserved that description more than this one) of the sounds, the skill in the production, of what we have been treated to tonight.
Like I said, sometimes you just know.
Jayjay
