Amateur Brain Surgery

Well done to the organisers of this magnificent and memorable first Beachdown festival. I’m already looking forward to next year when I hear there could be more like 15,000 tickets on sale. I may even take a tent next year, or maybe rent one of those £500 chalets.

We’d made a plan to come home every night, sleep in our own bed, crap in our own loo and return the following day refreshed after a hot shower, change of clothes and a feed. We managed to stick to our plan on both the Friday and Saturday but by Sunday we were so exhausted by the unaccustomed late nights all we could do was lie in bed. But we braved the wind on the Monday in order to return to see Gogol Bordello on the main stage.

I first went to a Festival in 1975 and this experience led to my spending a significant amount of my youth, hitching to a variety of green gatherings and free festivals around the south of England. Times have changed and festivals are now big business. Festival goers are no longer predominantly crusty long-haired hippies selling hot-knives and acid. These days they are more likely to be white, middle class accountants, teachers and social workers who drive to the festival in their Mercedes’ or BMW’s and sleep in high-tec sleeping bags on beds in chalets costing £500 for the weekend. But the festival spirit that I enjoyed way back in the 1970s is still alive and kicking.

The Brighton Beachdown was an outstanding festival for many reasons. The setting on top of the downs, with magnificent sea views, must be the most breathtaking festival site in the UK. The main stage, set in a natural amphitheatre, made it easy to see the bands whilst relaxing on the hillside and there was an abundant supply of fantastic food, especially the pies and mash from Brighton restaurant, Due South. If you are wondering who ate all the pies – I did.

We saw some great bands and enjoyed the company of some colourful and interesting people. It was just a pity that the weather turned so windy on the last day. Most memorable acts for me were a band called Crazy P, who stood in on the main stage on Friday night. I’m still amazed by the lead singers legs. Then there was Mean Papa Lean on the Brighton stage on Friday. A tighter, funkier band would be hard to imagine so if you get the chance to see either of these bands grab it. On Saturday, the highlight for me was Freakpower, and the variety of fantastic entertainment in the cabaret tent. Cherry Shakewell certainly knew how to keep the boys and girls eyes fixed on the stage. Sunday, for us was a day of rest, but finishing up Monday with the outstanding Gogol Bordello in a howling gale brought the whole affair to a magnificent climax.

But, for me, one of the greatest aspects of any festival are the weird and wonderful people. Like the mad drunken guy on the number 77 Devils Dyke bus who wanted to be everybodies friend, insisted that the driver should put some music on and then proceeded to tell anyone who would listen that he had 750 tabs of blotter acid and ‘tons of sniff’. I just hope that he survived the weekend and didn’t get himself arrested.

Well done to the organisers of this magnificent and memorable first Beachdown festival. I’m already looking forward to next year when I hear there could be more like 15,000 tickets on sale. I may even take a tent next year, or maybe rent one of those £500 chalets.