Freedom Festival

Chanelle and I are trying to do the trance dance ... 

I woke up super early on Saturday morning to go to the Freedom Festival in Umhlali. I am not usually one for psy trance – or any kind of trance for that matter. But I am definitely not one to turn down a party. So after stocking the car with a veritable smörgåsbord of food (chips, cheese and cashew nuts), Chanelle, Courtney and I were on our way. Obviously none of us knew where Umhlali was, but that is what a GPS is for, and so we faithfully followed the Garmen all the way to fuck-knows-where amongst some sugarcane.

A delicious corn snack for the road.

After about a thousand kilometres we reached a tiny farming town and realised that we were probably not going to see another ATM soon. If you have ever driven through the Eastern Cape, you will recognise the kind of town I am talking about. There was one road, ten chicken outlets and a lowly Checkers which housed the only cash delivery system for about twenty kilometres. This was the only place to draw money. We parked amongst various vendors selling walky-talkies (SA name for chicken neck and feet) and braaied mielies. Coco stayed in the car whilst Chanelle and I made our way through the various goats and Sangomas to draw money. We arrived back to find Coco in hysterics because a man had tried obtain her for some good old fashioned raping, so needless to say we sped the hell out of there.

Chanelle in tears as she realises that
we are completely lost.

After another hour of driving, the Garmen lady told us to turn left down a gravel road. We knew we were close because the polo fields on which the festival was to take place were down a dirt road. Only once we had reached our destination (the famous Garmen words) we were literally at the end of a footpath which looked on to sewage and cane fields. Literally at the shit-end of the world, we were lost. Apparently this particular GPS likes to take its followers the long way around. Personally I think it was someone’s idea of a cruel joke. But luckily we are resourceful girls. We used our phones to look up the directions on the Freedom Festival website and soon enough we were on our way. The instructions were to take Glendale Road and follow it till the end; “You can’t miss it” according to the website.  Ladies and gentlemen, this is a deceptive remark. We found Glendale Road. What we didn't know at the time is that we were at the other side of Glandale Road. About thirty kilometers from the end of Glendale Road, where we really wanted to be.

Umhlali - beautiful but we weren't there for the scenery! 

We drove at around fourty kilometers fer hour down the rockiest dirt road ever. We were out of cell phone range and our petrol tank had been flashing red for the last half hour. At the top of the next bolder we decided to head back, certain that we had made a wrong turn. We were literally the only people on the road, the festival started at twelve, it was now four and we were getting scared. On our way down we saw a police sign and turned up another dirt road to ask the police for directions. They were helpful and told us we were on the right path but it would be about another twenty kilometers to our destination. We happily drove on. On the way we saw a bunch of small children who had caught a swallow and tied it to a string. I convinced them to let it go in exchange for a packet of Fritos.

Coco and I trying to make our humble abode.

We arrived at the festival at half four and set up our tent for the night. There are two kinds of people who go to a trance party. There are those (like me) who are there for the experience. These people tend to get into the spirit by dressing the part and perhaps even indulging in a bit of contraband. And then there are those who live for trance. They are at every festival; they are the true hippies who are involved in every aspect of a trance party. I met two of these characters. One was a forty-year-old woman who came up to us and asked us: “Do you girls want to spin?” “Sure, why not” we replied. We all held hands and spun around the field. I must say it was rather pleasant in an innocent childlike manner. This was all destroyed however when two men who were clearly not trance regulars joined in. Things got kind of out of hand and our new friend let out a cry: “You are going too fast.” And then it was all over. The second noteworthy character we met was a man we now refer to as ‘the toy maker’. He was a mixture between hippy and Goth, dressed in black, with black hair that would not have passed the ‘pencil test’ during apartheid ( it was shaved at the sides I guess to prevent the afro-effect which his hair is no doubt prone to). I digress. This man made us all imaginary balls in a kind of weird wizard dance. Once each of our balls was made he just stood with the ‘ball’ in his palm until we pretended to take them. I put mine in my pocket and he moved off doing a strange dance with his ball as if it was real and bouncing around. I just wonder what these kinds of people do other than hang out at trance parties? I cannot imagine him functioning in society. As judgemental as that sounds, how does he relate to people in everyday situations like work when he is constantly creating his own world in his head? I suppose on a weird level that is what everybody else is doing – Perhaps just in a less obvious way.

Pretty.

The main dance area. As you can see inhibitions are lost here ... Mr Two-steps.

Anyways, I realised psy trance is not for me. Boom-perdy-boom for twenty four hours can make a person seriously crazy. Literally every DJ set is the same boom-perdy-boom.  I can imagine all the woodland creatures eventually saying: “All right boom-perdy-boom, we get it, but can you change it up a bit for God’s sake?” Bambi’s mom is literally on the verge of suicide every time she gets word that there is going to be another trance party in her neighbourhood!

I love wine ...

At around two in the morning Chanelle and I fell asleep in the back of the car and at eight we woke to the sound of – you guessed it – boom-perdy-boom! We got out of there, and this time (following the right directions) it only took an hour to get home.

Chanelle loves cheese!

The festival by the way was beautiful. It was decorated so beautifully and it was in the most beautiful place. I felt really at peace and I met some of the most wonderful people. I really do recommend that everyone goes to a trance party at least once in their lifetime - if only to experience it.

One love! HERPDI DERP!

Friday night at Live - The Venue

It gets a 3 on the Kinsey scale. 

I had an amazing phone interview a few days ago with one of South Africa’s up-and-coming bands. These guys truly are amazing. Their music is amazing and the singer, I believe, has one of the best voices in the country. I just know these guys are going to be huge, and very soon too. My interview went wonderfully because the lead vocalist who I chatted to was an absolute treat. All too often the fame goes to the musos' heads and the band members walk around thinking they are Mr. Big Dick and they have no time for us little journalists. But not this guy: he was very polite, very sweet, and went as far as inviting me to be on his guest list for the band's gig this Friday. So of course I went – I would have gone anyway!

Saturday was my friend Chanelle’s birthday so naturally she was my plus one for Friday’s gig at Live – The Venue. Unfortunately I was a little late in meeting her at the Durban flat, so whilst I was getting my act together and driving down, she got stuck in to the Vodka. My fault really because I took so damn long. But by the time I got to her I had a lot of catching up to do, which I tried my best to do.  

By the time we got to the venue we had made best friends with our taxi driver, we sang him our favourite Zulu song, and had nearly got knocked over crossing the road, and then I nearly got electrocuted  when I walked into what I thought was a bank van, but what was actually an electricity station. Hot damn.

In the Taxi to Live.

We made our way to the bar, had a couple of drinks and reassessed our sobriety. I was ok, Chanelle remember had just polished of a bottle of vodka on her own. We decided to get meat pies. As fate would have it, we bumped into a rotti merchant at the door and he was good enough to deliver us the onioniest rottie ever. But it saved our lives. 

That face could melt the heart of a thousand warriors. 

The band started and we made our way to the front. Again I will say that this band is absolutely incredible. Their set is really tight, and let’s not forget that Live has got to be the best stage in terms of acoustics. That, combined with the voice of a baby angel and you get pure sexy magic onstage. We had a fab time.

After the set Chanelle and I went to say hello as I had promised to do. We waited patiently whilst all the lusty women and men did their usual gushing over the band. Once things had quietened down I approached a band member to introduce myself: “Hello, I am Alex with Media24. I did your interview last week. Thank you for coming so far to share your music with us”. I got a “Hello” and a grunt as he turned away from me. Yowzer! A little frosty for someone who had asked me to watch the band perform. Things got a little worse. I went to the vocalist who I had interviewed to introduce myself and left Chanelle standing with the other guy. She told me that after a while of standing next to him she said: “Hello you must be freaked out with me standing here.” “Yes I am,” he replied. So then the girl gives it here best; “It’s my birthday tomorrow – I’ll buy you a Jagermeister!” He moved away. 

I'll drink your Jagermeister!

This might sound a little silly, but if you are in a band, and you are doing well, there is a chance that you just might meet some girls who don’t actually want to fuck you. I get that there are groupies around, and in this band's defence they were being swarmed with pussay, but we were there as friends and as their guests. Yes we love you. No we don’t want you - just your music. Let this not tarnish their stellar performance and their absolute professionalism. I still think they are great, but common – it was Chanelle's birthday, let her buy you a drink for Christ’s sake!

But no, I still love you. After that we headed to Origin for another of my friend's farewell. But we ended up spending an hour at the hot dog stand instead where Chanelle got the biggest wors of her life. We ended the night on the couch watching The Banger Sisters, oddly enough, a movie about two groupies ...

Bend and snap!

4U Rage Intro - Rocca Bar Street Party

It's pure love between us! 

This weekend was probably one of the busiest to date – and it followed after one of the busiest weeks of my life. Slowly and happily my career is starting to take off and the sheer excitement of my wonderful life has left me in a crazy stupor. I really do mean crazy. I mean like bat-shit crazy.

After my busy week, my plan was to pop into three events in Durban for a couple of hours and then to go home to bed on Friday night. Then I heard that my wonderful friend Chanelle would be in town, so one thing lead to another and we ended up planning a whole night of partying instead. 

After a long drive we arrived at our accommodation for the night, both needing to pee really bad. You know the night is about to go south when you step out of the car at a gated residence and find yourself squatting behind a tree. Chanelle is the kind of friend you can pull your pants down in front of. As soon as we got inside our host said she could see everything from the window. She also alerted us to the fact that our heels looked like we had just run through a sprinkler.

Our first destination was an awesome club that I usually go to and I really wanted to party with my friend that night. But as soon as we got there I knew something was different. We were the oldest people there. It was crazy. We stood out from the crowd looking about a hundred years old. But being the positive person I am we decided to persevere and have a drink. Many Tequilas and a G & T later and we were still the oldest people in the club. So I decided to called up my wonderful friend Jay Tweek and asked him where the hell he was. 

I never could handle my tequilas!

We arrived at the Rocca bar Street Party completely overdressed. I was wearing a slutty dress with fantastic red wedges and, needless to say, my pretty shoes are now ruined. We found Jay and started ordering shots. I am not entirely sure what else we did that night besides drink, dance and party.

Rocca was really awesome – they should host outdoor events more often. The club has a really interesting design and when it is opened up like it was on Friday, it becomes a really fun maize of music. Chanelle and I ruined our shoes dancing to P.H.Fat. We realised that all the adults we had missed in the previous club were at this bar instead. Which is another reason I am so impressed because with the thousands of bodies all around, we had no problem at all getting a drink, perfect!

Jay Tweek doing his thang, take a look at those guns.

Jay was asked to play with Veranda Panda so Chanelle and I spent the rest of the night dancing. As soon as his set was done at around four, he gave us a lift home, but not before getting a meat pie at the local petrol station (this is getting to be a habit). Then Chanelle showed me how to TC (tactical chunder) which was just hilarious and didn’t work at all. Now that I am sober I realise that Jay is probably horrified at having to watch me behave so inappropriately. But at least he laughed! 

We woke up the next morning, watched Death Becomes Her and ate the world’s burniest pizza. Awesome weekend. Rocca aweh! 

So much love, and my ass is too big for that dress - White girl got junk yall!

The Colour Festival Durban

Sure looks colourful!

Saturday the 6th April saw the first Colour Festival to be held in Durban after recent success in Jo'burg and Cape Town. Now before everyone gets all up in arms and tells me that the Holi Fest has been around for decades ... I know. I said that this is the first, of many, Colour Festival's to hit Durban. The promoters of this event tout it as an electronic dance party which incorporates the coloured powders from the original Holi Festival in India combined with a "stellar line-up of local and international deejays". 

LEFT: Before Colour Fest
RIGHT: At Colour Fest.

Crowds.

Now forgive me for my negativity so early on, but I don’t recall any international DJ’s. However, I will give the organisers the benefit of the doubt because they were probably referring to the Cape Town and Jo’burg venues. The music was good and the general atmosphere was just incredible. I had so many people tell me that they absolutely loved the festival and they loved the concept. I think that it is really exciting for Durban to hold these kinds of events.

So what did I think? Not that it makes a difference, but here is my tale about this colourful event.

The queue at the entrance.

My friends and I got to the Wavehouse, Gateway at around 3 pm. On the way in I passed our official photographer for the newspaper who had earlier been so eager to do the event. He was leaving and had only two words for me ‘Sodom and Gomorrah’. Now when shit gets biblical you know that you are at the right kind of party.

Ronnie ends this video in an awkward way ...

I was so grateful for my media pass because the line for the entrance was crazy. Despite the thousands of people, it only really took ten minutes for my friends to enter the event. Once we got inside we traded our tickets for two packets of colour powder. This was when I got my first powder experience. What nobody told us - I guess because it is common sense - is that the stuff gets everywhere. My first dust cloud entered my mouth and nostrils. I was left coughing and spluttering - begging for mercy. Just as I took my second breath another cloud hit me. Thank god for my sunnies or I would have been blind as well.

You have to watch this ...

I was a bit annoyed with the powder packet people because they were not allowing people with R190 tickets to get any powder,  although their ticket stated they should get two packets each. Luckily my friends stood firm and insisted they get their powder. Forty minutes later we were off to the bar. Honestly I lost my shit. The problem with using the Wavehouse as a venue is that it actually does not have enough facilities. This is not just my opinion. There were not enough bar facilities and not nearly enough bathrooms. It took over an hour to get drinks at the bar. Not just because the bar was too small to serve the large crowd, but also because the bar kept running out of stock. We all just stood and waited for more stock to be brought in. Very sad. I had to be a snob and get us all drinks from VIP because it was the only properly run bar. 

Always with the mouth open -
No wonder I  am still coughing up purple.

As for the bathrooms, you know us girls and our bladders. After eventually buying our buckets we all needed to pee. Unfortunately for us we had to leave the Wavehouse and actually go into Gateway to use the bathroom. The whole of Colour Fest was doing the same because nobody wanted to wait in an hour-long queue. At one stage in the night my friend and I went to the men’s bathroom because we couldn’t wait any longer. Only to find ourselves ankle-deep in what we now know was urine. Desperate times... Also while I am on this tangent, the Colour fest website promised showers to rinse ourselves off ... I guess there was one in the heavily populated, unbearably overcrowded bathroom.

This is the only pic you will ever see of me on the loo.
As vulgar as it is, I think that it illustrates a point.

 I did have an amazing time despite all my whining. I think this is going to be a regular festival on Durban’s calendar and I will return. I love to dance and I loved getting colourful. Colour Fest Durban was over all too soon. But not our night...

Amy and I had got separated from our herd. So we decided to taxi back to Umhlanga, get some pizza, clean the powder from our nooks and crannies and head out to XS nightclub. We ended up sitting on the grass at Engen waiting for our taxi for ages – it seemed to be the common story for the night. So - and this is incredibly naughty of us, do not do this ever - we ended up asking some fellow Colour Fest revellers for a ride. Not the smartest thing I have ever done. Their car had a strange curtain up which separated the front of the car from the back. We told them we were going to Cotton Fields and as soon as they drove off we ran back to our hotel room at The Oysters.

I spent the rest of my night chatting to my good friend Jay Tweek as well as arguing with the owner of FITS about the article I wrote about him.

What an awesome weekend. I could not have had a better time if I tried. To everyone else who went to Colour Fest Durban, makeup remover is the only way to get that purple out of your pores ... it’s a pleasure!

The next morning we cured our hangovers with a Big Daddy beer at Hooters.

Splashy Fen 2013 - Part 2

Five minutes later I was face down in the brown ... At least I did not spill my tea.

This year’s Splashy Fen lived up to its name with a downpour starting on Friday night which cooled the Underberg Valley down after a scorching week of sunshine. The rain came back with a vengeance on Saturday night leaving me drenched, but it did not manage to dampen my spirits as I took to the various tents to stay dry, drink and listen to music.

This is the place where good clothes go to die.

After days of deliberation I had decided to travel down to Splashy fen on my own. I was really feeling good about this decision because I was going there to write so the fewer distractions the better. The night before I was to set off I got a message from my friend in Cape Town. He was on his way to Splashy and wanted to know if I wanted a ride. Considering that I am the world’s worst driver and have no sense of direction, I decided to change my independent woman attitude (to an extent) and become a co-driver. Anybody that drives from Cape Town to Splashy gets my company any day.

The beer tent became the host comedy
package on Sunday due to the rain
washing out the Splashy Fen Marquee. 

Unfortunately for my dear friend, we still ended up getting lost ... A good few times. I however call it divine intervention because by the time we eventually got there we had missed the torrential downpour.  My friend drove in his VW Caddy van – extra length, so we didn’t even have to pitch a tent. Once again I thank the stars because the rain meant that any actual camping - in a tent - would have sucked balls. Our ride had two mattresses in the back, two down duvets, blankets, pillows and all the comforts of home. Plus we were mobile so we could just pull up to the jol!

Besides the music -which was the reason I was at Splashy, my highlight for the weekend was spending the Saturday night downpour with one of my good friends in the beer tent. All I can tell you is that this man can drink. We started the night at the bar. He asked the bartender for a bottle of vodka and ten Red Bull’s. I know it is not good to judge, but if I were to guess, our bartender was about eighteen, she probably had never worked behind a bar and she was really out of her depth at this point in her life. Being the good girl she is, she asked her dad if it was OK. He said no. So my friend asked her if she could pour him thirty drinks instead. The look on her face made my night. We later bought a bottle of Jagermeister from her dad.

Some of our Easter entertainment.

Apart from the Easter eggs I got showered with on Sunday morning, I loved the ‘chill’ areas at this year’s festival. I spent hours in the smokers lounge, I don’t smoke, but it was fully equipped with couches, bean bags and the most amazing security man who kept fetching us tea and coffee. The Mobile Cafe saved my life, they sold over two thousand cups of warmth on Saturday alone and I swear most of them were sold to me. 

Food place ...

Aaand I am glad I didn't drive
my own car ...  

I have to thank so many people for my amazing weekend, you know who you are. But lets be honest, the music was amazing. Jay was charming, P.H.Fat broke me, Niskerone and Miki - Love, Veranda Panda, Paul Snodgrass killed and sharing Red Bull's with Phizicist -  the best.

And my yummy sponsored meals from Pasta Boys, I am sure that they know that I love them. Thank you Craig and Winton and that man from the Dominican Republic. I love you all.

I love Splashy

Splashy Fen 2013 - Part 1

I designed this page for The Weekend Witness 23/03/2013.

Ok so I guess I have to explain my absence from all social media sites … I feel like a naughty schoolchild waiting to be spanked and told “NAUGHTY”!

I have too much shit to get done before Splashy!

I know what you are thinking; “Quit your whining bitch”! Well fok julle, Splashy takes planning ok.

So if you are in the throes of depression because you don’t know what to expect then please enlarge the Splashy page which I designed for you. No really, I worked hard on it and I think my little colourful tents are inspired.

If you want to party with me then Join me at the Uber Cool Dance Valley:

For the second year running, Uber Cool Dance Valley hits Splashy Fen. Festival goers can enjoy KZN’s biggest, live music dance festival, celebrated over 5 days. This year you can expect to see over 50 DJ’s and electronic acts from around the country. Some of the highlights are P.H.Fat, Kid Robot & Phizicist, Niskerone ft Miki San, Veranda panda, Night Vision, Liver, Tommy Gun and many more.

If you were lucky enough to get a ticket, entrance allows you full access into the Uber Cool Dance Valley private camp site as well as access to all stage; the Day River stage, the Splashy Fen stages and the Electronic stage. There is also an afterhours Headphone disco, limited day passes are available at the gate for R30. Contact George at 073 274 8649 or ubercoolevents@gmail.com for more information.

I am super excited for P.H. Fat, Phizicist, Niskerone and Miki San and my new friend Jay Tweek. After that, friends, I plan on sitting back and having a drink.

Other things to look forward to at splashy this year are:

Smelly, dirty teenager who have just discovered drinking ...

Hipsters - many.

Mud children

And, of course, toilet bushes!

So pack your toothbrush, hand-sanitiser, an extra loo roll and some warm clothes.
I am super keen to meet all of you wonderful people at Splashy. Love you.

Skrillex The Mothership Tour

I know this is a late post because this event has come and gone, but the lease I can do is share some photies with you.
There is something so amazing about standing at the foot of a huge electronic stage with bass flowing through your body, pulsating through every fibre. The media rules were pretty strict at this event. No mono-pods, no flash, we could only be in the pit for the first 9 minutes (due to the pyrotechnics and the fact that we would get burned). But hell I didn't care. Not only did I get to see Skrillex, but I was lucky enough to see his mentor 12th Planet. Let me tell you, trying to take pictures without a flash when you have beats pumping through your body is crazy hard (and I am short), so forgive me please for these shots.

Here is the article page I did. For those of you unable to enlarge, I transcribed the article below, you know, in case you wanted to read it!

I wrote, photographed and designed this page for The Weekend Witness 9th March 2013.

AS soon as I stepped into the The Wavehouse arena that had been especially converted for The Mothership Tour, I knew I was about to witness something special.

The atmosphere was electric, with fans having come from all over KwaZulu-Natal to see the DJ who calls himself Skrillex perform for the first time on African soil.

To be a journalist is to be a voyeur; you have to separate yourself from the action in order to fully understand the spectacle. A journalist will be behind the pictures and behind the story; it is her job to expose the story in such a way as to transport the audience to the scene of the action, to entertain, to tell stories and to enlighten.

However, as I found myself among thousands of spectators on Sunday, I could not help but be swept up in all the excitement.

We were all there to witness one of the world’s leading electronic dance music pioneers in action. I could barely contain my excitement.

Not only would I get to hear him perform, but I would be among a few people to get close enough to see him perform.

There was much debate as to how much performing Skrillex would actually be doing on Sunday. The new generation of electronic DJs travel light. Often their instruments consist of no more than an Apple Mac and a thumb drive. Luckily, the South African audience was treated to a full hour-and-a-half performance involving a VJ (video jockey), pyrotechnics and Skrillex mixing and performing his own songs.

This year, Skrillex firmly cemented himself as a musical force to be reckoned with when he won three Grammys for best dance recording and best dance/electronic album for Bangarang, as well as best mixed recording for Promises.

Overall he is a six-time Grammy winner, which places him in the same category as Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Adele, The Police and The Eagles. More importantly, he has outdone other electronic Grammy winners such as The Chemical Brothers (four awards), Daft Punk and David Guetta (two awards each).

But where did this man come from? For many, Skrillex has become the name at the forefront of digital music, but very few of his fans know him by his name, Sonny Moore. This 25-year-old musician started his musical career in 2004, when he performed as the lead singer of the post-hardcore band From First to Last, with which he recorded two albums. After having undergone a vocal surgical procedure, Moore left the band in 2007 to pursue a solo career. He released the EP Gypsyhook in 2009 under the alias Twipz, and then planned to record the album Bells with producer Noah Shain. But this album was never made and Moore began performing under the name Skrillex.

He gained commercial success after releasing My Name is Skrillex and Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites for free download on his MySpace page in 2010. In November 2011, Skrillex was nominated for five Grammy Awards and won three.

Pivotal to his success is the fact that Skrillex, much like other artists in his field, produces his own work and releases it for free. In this way he is able to bypass piracy laws, allowing for a larger audience reach.

Just how far his musical reach stretches became all too clear as I stood among thousands of my peers who were chanting the name of this young Californian DJ who has changed the face of music.

“This is really crazy for me, man,” said Skrillex, accepting the first award in 2012.

“I made this song in my bedroom when I was living illegally in a warehouse in downtown LA.”

He went on to tweet: If I can win Grammys then that means all you yet to be seen bedroom geniuses will one day TAKEOVER THE WORLD!”

• alexandra.patrick@witness.co.za