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 1st Article from our visiting friend from New Zealand, writing for music press back in NZ ..  Thanks Ben !

New Music, Same Old Weather: The Great Escape, Brighton, 14-16th May 

It’s two days later and the wristband still scratches when I type. I still haven’t emptied my bag or thought about drying the tent. For god’s sake why can’t I get Micachu & The Shapes out of my head. It’s a slow comedown from a three day seaside romp known as the English answer to SXSW. But I can’t think of the comparison, I’ve still got to find my notepad...

It’s summer in the U.K and festival season is upon us. Glastonbury sold out faster than The Virgins could score Gossip Girl and every other big band festival is charging several pints of blood and every last shred of dignity you have to see Kings of Leon play for 30 minutes. It’s no wonder that the majority won’t get their golden ticket and will be forced to watch the BBC’s Big Weekend on iplayer. Out of sheer laziness (and a lack of the required £175 ($450NZD)) I didn’t register for a single festival this summer. People have lambasted me for not trying to get to Glastonbury just to see a couple of half decent bands playing their 400th gig of the summer. No. I decided to head to Brighton for The Great Escape.

If 300+ bands playing in over 20 venues sounds like a full weekend, you’d be half right. The town in the grip of its own 3 week culture festival suddenly filled with red band wearing festival goers to witness what was brand new in music, slightly new in music and what was old (i.e., one album down) in music.

It started ominously enough when a ‘secret gig’ was announced only to be postponed because the band hadn’t actually turned up yet. Bands’ playing on balconies throughout the weekend with half an hours notice was a welcome change to the typically regimented festival system and it felt relaxed in the way big festivals aren’t. More like a series of gigs, nothing ran perfectly to time, the equipment didn’t always work and the crowds weren’t handpicked, so the bands had to win over their audience before they lost them to a Babyshambles covers group. It meant throughout the weekend no matter who we saw, they were out to impress.

Thursday on the beach started with William Fitzsimmons. His version of Jose Gonzalez didn’t astonish me but lent nicely to the summer atmosphere we would have had anywhere else but in England, the land of wind and rain. My pleasant vibe was quickly smashed by Panama Kings blasting the normal power rock/punk that must be making a come-back, or else they’re 5 years too late. The daytime gigs didn’t bode well for bands that sound best after a night drinking cheap beer and smashing things. It was Thomas Dybdahl next playing a pokey venue that set the tone for the evening. Swapping his mellow acoustic ramblings that have made him so famous in Norway with a backing band and a rock beat, he quickly made his new direction one to watch. Initiating a sing-along with the crowd and almost pleading to make him big in the U.K I was happy to oblige. Another quick pounding by tight but nothing new punk band Sharks and it was time for a letdown. After sitting through Fink, categorically the most boring band in the world, we got a glimpse of NME and radio favourites Bombay Bicycle Club who play with all the trappings of the radio darlings that they have so quickly become. With day one behind us it was time to retire for enough drinks to make that hard tent floor float away.

Shit, I think my notepad is missing pages, I’m sure there were others. Oh well...

Friday night. And my biggest surprise of the festival. An almost androgynous girl playing a toy guitar and a delay pedal. Micachu & The Shapes were disorganised but tight, messy but sweet and exceptionally good. Comparisons to April March, Architecture in Helsinki and My Disco fall short of just how much fun this band is. An everybody solo just sealed them as my newest find until I picked up the NME for that week and saw a two page interview and gushing album review. Oh well... This was all followed by the much hyped band British Sea Power who dressed the set like a bad King Kong remake and then set out playing a boring mix of everything you hear on radio1 and everything else you hear on radio1. The night ended rather early for the bands as it did on most nights and once again it was off to the dance parties or bars around town to drink some more overpriced pints.

It was coffee rather than cocktails at a midday Saturday New Zealand showcase that surprised everyone with the quality of the music on offer from kiwi bands. Bang Bang Eche sounded like Supergroove’s bus had crashed in to Rage Against The Machine’s jet and while they may be old hats in their hometown of Christchurch, it was news to me and to the packed crowd that really got behind their energy. The always quirky Connan Mockisan had the indie kids nattering and the magazine types swigging their shandies until Die! Die! Die! proved why they have received so much press at home and abroad. Their show is much better suited to a hazy 1am slot but it didn’t stop a mini mosh pit and some impressive crowd surfing for early afternoon on the pier. With a tortured look that every syllable is causing pain, Finn Andrews and the rest of The Veils once again begged the question about their lack of best band of the minute status in New Zealand. Understandably, their home is in London and they have a strong U.S following but this is a band that New Zealand has sorely missed out on. Talking to them before hand they talked about the gigs they have throughout summer with no intention of heading down under and that is a tragedy.

With Saturday night came the rain and hail. I knew I would never get in to the Babyshambles secret gig and lines around the block meant missing Kasabian and The Maccabees as well. So it was a stumble to Hove to see Noah and The Whale who didn’t disappoint, playing an interesting mix of Cash and Devendra Banhart with a pop overtone that got me excited for their next release. An acoustic after party with Glasgow group My Latest Novel was very Glen Hasard but a nice come down. Trying to miss many of the packed dance clubs and trying not to get beaten up by homophobic locals we ended the night seeing iLikeTrains who were terrible, and left it at that.

Not being contained in one sight lost a little of the festival atmosphere and if you wanted to see the big name bands you were almost forced to sit through terrible bands just too secure your place. But of course it wasn’t perfect. It was in England. England weather is crap and while it’s a festival by the sea it shitted down for half of it and was as windy as hell for the rest. But you can’t knock the organisers for the weather and the rest of the weekend went swimmingly, my car didn’t even break down.

Wandering around Brighton eating terrible fish and chips and waiting for the next show, or the next rain shower, it was nice not to feel out of place. At a festival full of unsigned indie bands it would be all too easy to get overrun by a crowd that can name every Smith’s b-side and will stab you for mentioning somebody you found in the NME. Everyone we talked to were normal music lovers who didn’t know everything and just wanted to hear something new, and maybe the Maccabees. With names that meant little to me I selected bands almost at random and while I didn’t see headliners Kasabian or newly crowned indie coolsters The Maccabees I saw enough to be impressed with the next group of bands from the U.K, Canada and NZ that will be making headlines. While sometimes you have to dig deep down to find it, good music is always coming out and it won’t be long until these bands are playing the huge festivals and I’m forced to watch BBC interviews with them about the crap venues they had to play on their way up, because that’s where I’ll still be.

Bentheneb