I guess first of all, I've come to the conclusion that Bradford Cox is just about the most inspiring person there is. Everything about him - his beautiful music and great fucking attitude down to silly things like the way he dresses is brilliant. There is no-one more charismatic; no-one who I'd rather make my friend, no-one cooler or smarter or better. My friend Martin wrote the following about him and it's beautiful, eloquent and true:
Bradford
is a warm, honest, great guy, and no mean genius. Whether as a
performer, writer, curator or agent provocateur he leads and we will
follow. I cannot say how much I admire him.
On a similar note, not since my first Green Man have I experienced something to make me realise how genuinely precious and life-affirming music can be. It sounds kind of silly but I'm inspired anew and still, several days later, absolutely fucking euphoric. Time of my life. I mean it.
Onto things that happened -
- Deerhunter happened. Three nights in a row with a set with Tom Tom Club. Was at the barrier exactly opposite Bradford for Cryptograms/Flourescent Grey and it destroyed my knees and delighted everything else. Then at Microcastle I met my soul sister (by which I mean a hilarious and smiley girl who kept yelling at Lockett to take his shirt off etc. note: I did not do this though I did describe Desire Lines as "classic Lockett action" in a somewhat partridge-esque manner) and they all fucking leapt into the crowd in an act of solidarity with fans and played Calvary Scars II/Aux Out and some songs off Rainwater Cassette Exchange and a version of Nothing Ever Happened that would loop infinitely if there was a heaven. And then Halcyon Digest, for which I was opposite Lockett but also heinously drunk but with one of my favourite people, Hannah, so it all evened out into the most beautiful ending to the weekend I could have asked for. Having now seen them five times in about four weeks (spoilt/broke), I've realised that they're the best band both on record and live, and I love them painful amounts.
edit: read this back and it just does not do it justice. Find a really nice review of it, or recall your own memories. It was Magic.
- Bradford Cox shook my hand and complimented my shirt. The idea that Bradford Cox and I would exchange any kind of conversation where I was on the RECEIVING end of niceness makes my head spin. I kind of wanted to talk to him properly but he quickly moved up the row to talk to some guy about sucking his dick. Oh Brad. After that, every other time I saw him I was too starstruck to summon any words, so I just kept gawping and turning to a considerably cooler Martin or Eddy and going "he'stherehe'stheredidyouseehim". Oh.
- I had better luck meeting Laetitia Sadler. I think she must be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and she was lovely. Her set was equally moving and passionate, and she was just so elegant and funny and her singing voice is utterly hypnotic. She may even have temporarily replaced Lockett in my affections. On the basis of this weekend I'm pretty sure I love all things related to Stereolab (who only bloody reunited and played Blue Milk with Brad!) so they're going to be at the base of my next auditory adventure, I've decided.
- decorating a bench. The less I say about this the better but yeah. The bench looks amazing now.
- going to the beach with 10 or so strangers after Cryptograms, randomly finding myself in the sea because it was so dark, and then realising that not one of the 10 people there could find the way back.
- scratching a guy at Black Lips. Everyone I've told this story to seems to find it quite funny but I still feel like I've broken some cardinal rule of gig-going. To be fair, he accidentally elbowed me in the mouth and made it bleed later on in the show so...
- best dancing to Cavern of Anti Matter, B53s and Black Dice. At Black Dice I was getting onto my bloody knees to dance at one point. Someone tapped me to say they liked my dancing but I'm not convinced of their sincerity.
- Hollow Stars. I really loved them and I danced but Thee Pundt was standing behind me for the set so my dancing was somewhat inhibited by the considerable lack of oxygen I was able to ingest. A dream of a man. The night before he walked past me with his wife and he had a smirk and she did not and I had three suspicions:
- they've seen the Twitter (0.1 percent chance of being true)
- he thought I was dressed up as Bradford (black messy hair + leopard print shirt of compliments and happiness) and found it amusing (2.9 percent chance of being true)
- something else altogether not remotely related to me (97%). Sigh.
- Martin. If I could have all my gig experiences in Martin's company, my life would be richer for it. What a fantastic, generous and wonderfully impassioned man.
- Finding a wonderful new pal in Eddy. Seldom have I hit it off with someone so quickly. Matty is one of the few other examples I can think of. This has led me to think all boys who like good music and live in the North are my favourite people.
*After Bradford, obvs
- meeting cool new people like Andy and Jonathan who I watched Laetitia with. We all went to a cafe together (inc. Martin and Eddy) on the beach on the last day and this tiny little boy walked up to me and just stared and walked off. Taste of my own medicine, given my general behaviour around certain people this weekend (Bradford, Lockett).
- having a dance to the Slits and such after bands on the Friday. I only went back into the room because I'd noticed Lockett and Bradford sitting at the back and then I saw Bradford and some fans trying to have their picture taken and I just stood there finding it really hilarious and then I got my friends and good songs were played and Fun was Had.
- Martin, Eddy and me being big kids in the playground. We were meant to go to Bradford's DJ set but we got distracted and hysterical.
- meeting Martin's brother from another mother and his pal.
- being the lone voice yelling "woo!" when Bradford briefly acknowledged "your Birmingham" when talking about Birmingham, Alabama.
- Taking an ATP poster that had fallen off the main site back to our chalet and decorating it. It now rests in peace on Martin's car, having overseen all manner of joys over the weekend.
- doing the most middle class thing of my life (stopping in Oxford at a Waitrose to buy a sandwich and Kettle Chips) when looking like a highly disoriented scruff, on the way back from Camber.
- Moses playing Smiths and the Cure back to back. I wasn't there for it but I am informed that it happened and temporarily my affections were transferred from Laetitia to Moses. Obviously they all went back to Lockett within 5 minutes.
- Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. Maybe my favourite non-Deerhunter set. Maybe. And better than any time I've seen Animal Collective. He was electric; I was elevated; he is divine.
- falling onto my back at the end of every night, in absolute ecstacy. First night I got my picture taken (WHERE IS IT); second night some guys tried to guess which drug I was on (JUST VIBES, BABY); third, Eddy and Martin found me, tried to get me up but I just sat down again and felt joy. That blissful.
- talking to this very handsome but ridiculously cool guy who was feeding crackers to a really hilarious bird for like an hour. I know this doesn't sound much like highlight material but oh it was.
- finally seeing Panda Bear (first hipster crush) and experiencing most of the set with my eyes closed. HOW. his set was divisive but I really loved it. He came on stage and said he was only gonna play new stuff then "if you're not into that then maybe this isn't the place" then launched into a couple of minutes samples of people violently screaming. I think he did it on purpose and it worked; the set got very, very, very good indeed, really enveloping and transcendent. I can't think of many times when I've been so deeply immersed in a show. He's faultless.
- Consuming 5 pot noodles, some grapes, some haribo, a big buddha bowl with halloumi and considerably more than a litre of gin in 3 days. you do the maths. Didn't sober up til Wednesday. Went back to work on Tuesday.
BAG WOES:
I brought two bags to ATP. These are the things that happened to them:
BAG 1 - drank a lot of gin. went to kids park. had the best time in the kids park. possibly drank a bit more gin. martin and eddy exited the kids park. martin saw I was about to do something silly. advised against it. loudly. no. jumped over fence, landed in a pile, bag snapped on way down. decided to roll around in the bark, and made Martin miss part of Dan Deacon's set while we went back to the chalet so he could pick bark out of my cardigan and I could replace Bag 1 with...
BAG 2
a tote bag. took it to robyn hitchcock (who was great and looked RIGHT AT ME with his kind of intense but silvery foxy eyes and was very funny and articulate and full of great songs). saw hannah. experienced elation. said a lot of shit to hannah I don't remember, but apparently it revolved around bar stools, work pals and my love of Thee Pundt. then Thee Pundt emerged before mine eyes looking typically dreamy. had finished my 1l supply of bombay sapphire so started on the gordons. instantly felt an ominous rumble in my tummy then my throat but didn't want to leave barrier. had a mouth. had a tote bag. you guess.
I'm pretty certain neither Hannah nor Lockett nor the lovely Japanese girl next to me who Bradford gave a setlist to nor a bouncer saw any of this but yeah.
- a bunch of other, probably very obvious stuff I can't remember because it's shrouded in the fog of joy.
TBC?
