|
I've asked Nick the Bookman for a review of this first-ever, hopefully-to-become-yearly event. He delivered in a record 3 days after I saw him actually dancing at this event while taking his notes.
Islands Festival - 21/11/2010
"I feel dropped of jaw, smacked of gob and flabbered of gast."
I've got high hopes for this Sunday's Islands Festival 2010 - The Cultural Melting Pot in Lamma Island. Held at the YSW football pitch, adjacent to the temple, it promises to bring the locals and the gwai lohs together for an afternoon of fun, free scoff, cultural diversity and lots of music. It's going to be great. Everyone bonding together in friendly fashion, but not at the same time as it turns out. Locals do their thing in the first couple of hours and then the party people arrive for all the music. Which is more or less where I come in.
This show will have to be my DickStock (not held this year) and Lamma Fun Day (not attended, due to a preoccupation with The Flaming Lips show that same night, i.e 13/11/2010). I've packed up the bookstall and trundled down to the football pitch. Sampans are on display. There's a photo exhibition of Old Lamma, but most attention is centred on the big stage at far left of the pitch. The kylin and lion dance performance, with attendant martial arts moves, is winding down with insistent dragon boat drums and cacophonous cymbals, melding with throbbing blood and pulsing hangovers. Or so I've been led to believe. Meanwhile Dan Island Bar is the Master of Ceremonies and he's welcoming one and all to the festivities.
Bahouki are first up with Davey on usual, imperious and intoxicating fiddle. Neil is plucking his double bass with aplomb. John is in charge of guitar and mouth organ duties and "Nina from Finland" is a new and most welcome addition on cello. An absolutely mesmerising overture of "Ode to Joy" from Beethoven's Ninth segues into "The Rocky Road" with impromptu new lyrics by John extolling the virtues of Yung Shue Wan. More familiar territory is traversed with "? of the Country Down" . (I can't read John's writing as well as I can't read my own, so there's a foretaste of how things are going to get enjoyably messy). Some traditional reels follow and an absolutely breathtaking finale of Pachelbel's "Canon" in keys of G, C, and D. John opening on his trusty harmonica (aka mouth organ or harp - all terms interchangeable).
Davey follows on after a brief detour into what seems to be Americana/ Appalachian territory. Just listen to that fantastic interplay between the equally imaginary banjo and pedal steel guitar! Well, I can hear it, but that might be my first Nigel Tufnel of Spinal Tap moment. Davey tells me the D part of the tune was inspired by American fiddler Eileen Ivers own re-working of the "Canon". I feel dropped of jaw, smacked of gob and flabbered of gast. Classy stuff and Nina and Neil have blended right in. Even Double is having a happy roll in front of the stage, legs kicking with spasmodic accuracy to the unfolding beats. Jack is sitting stage right like a mini-Sphinx, seeming impervious to it all. Did I mention that Davey and John are in kilts? Their sartorial splendour results in the big unanswered question of the day. How did they keep their todgers warm? You'll have to ask the groovy gurus yourself if you wish to be enlightened. There's no room for such smut in a wholesome review like this. Well, not until later...
Dan's thanked Bahouki and it's time for The Real Marcuses to strut their stuff. I was thinking of them as the Nearly Marcus Trio featuring Fernando. There's a lot of people arriving now and many more dogs. Which apparently is a big do do, or more accurately don't don't. Some of the newer crop of police posted to Lamma ask me - very politely it must be said - to take Double and Jack back home. French Caroline has to remove her dogs as well. Apparently dogs aren't part of the cultural melting pot today. Never mind that they're behaving more impeccably than the owners. Joke! I've heard T.R.M. play their opening song "Bizarre Love Triangle" which sound's like the opening of "Time After Time" and part of the second song "Real Love" which is reminiscent of "We've Got Tonight" by Bob Seger. Missed the rest of the set while walking my babies back home.
I'd like to think the local police will be as zealous in enforcing the no fireworks rule on Chinese New Year Eve 2011, but I suspect the phone will be off the hook and they'll all go for a midnight swim and barbie at Lo So Shing. Or something. Anything to avoid a bad p.r. problem. What do you mean we have to arrest everyone? Perhaps the easiest solution is for the Government to declare a 30 minute amnesty. Say from 2345 Chinese New Year's Eve to 0015 Chinese New Year's Day. If anyone is hurt during that time, don't blame/sue us. And the Lamma Solons can debate the philosophy that the Law Statutes are only as strong as the weakest of the laws contained therein. Let battle commence. Anyway I missed the rest of T.R.M. including their uplifting songs for children section. They'll be around for a while though.
I think Louis is getting ready for her ten minute violin solo spot. She's kindly informed me that she'll be playing "Black Dog" by Led Zeppelin and Bach's solo violin sonata #3 Allegro Assai. I do a quick beer run. Get back and she;s already finished her set which provides the second mesmeric performance of the day. The Bach especially with tricky time changes and fingering movements. Louis received one of the biggest ovations of the day. People also like her channeling her inner David Garret on "Black Dog". To stand up alone in front of the growing crowd and command, nay demand, their attention is plucky work. Random comments include people saying they would have paid good money to see her perform. As for me, at least the beers were cold. Hope to hear more from you at Xmas, Louis.
A stripped down ragged glory version of Transnoodle is getting ready. Josh has his gruffly endearing vocals down pat. And pat doesn't mind. That's because (s)he doesn't exist. No more than do the frolicsome pirates of "Port Royale", the opening number. Johnny is giving it some serious acoustic wellie. Matt has all the keyboard licks even more down pat. Who still doesn't mind. OK, Nick, you're being free-form silly now.
But I have my reasons. A foretaste of events to happen. This shit happens in these stories sometimes. Just because I'm the bemused author doesn't mean I have any control over the creation. Another one for the Solons perhaps. Let's backtrack. Josh - raggedlygoodvox. With off stage walkabouts. Johnny - acousticmayhemguitar. Matt - Korgkeyboardkaos. Magnus - cartonhanddrummer. Channeling his inner Bonzo. Other songs include "Taking the ferry", "Sampan" and "Rum and Cola" Or maybe they're the core lyrics. The Zeitgeist made brief. I hope I'm getting the bands in the correct order. I've lost my schedule slip, but I'm sure in some happy parallel world, this is how it all went down. So, that's where I'm beaming in from.
It's time for some new talent. There's 20 minutes of exquisite tribal traditional Sri Lankan dancing by Shekeleg. They're a Lamma-based troupe and in the immortal words of Dan, "Do we have talent on this island or not?" I've missed most of their set as I'm watching a stage invasion by a cricket team of Sri Lankan musicians and roadies. This is the Srishadows (who are on Facetube. Or Youbook). They are going to be the polarising act of the day. Srishadows comprise a main drummer, a 'tronic percussionist, a keyboard player, bassist, three guitarists and interchanging vocalists. And they are something else. Dan the Bastard thinks they're using the guitars as weird percussion. John the Cur thinks they're inspired by the tonal modalities inherent in the Sri Lankan jazz/ethnic scene. Or something like that. Leigh thinks they're brilliant and sound like Captain Beefheart.
I think they're the closest thing I've heard in place to mid-70's Frank Zappa. The Dub Room experiments or whatever the DVD was called. Other musicians are equally complimentary which is the main point. These guys can play. Just what they're playing is open to debate. Random other comments range from I'm having a bad acid flashback to bloody awful. But overall, most people can't stop taking in the spectacle. They open with "By The Rivers Of Babylon" which is exotic, strange and comforting in equal measure. Their performances are being videoed by several people, Harry among them. And Dan. Leigh wants their version of the 50's lounge classic "Love You More Than I Can Say" transferred to his Facebook page by Dan. Like right now, if you please. Moments that recall The Portsmouth Sinfonia crash into recognisable melodies. The drums are omni-steady. The keyboards are unhinged in a great Sun Ra way. The 'tronic percussion pops along like Monty Python and the Holy Grail coconut hoof beats. The increasing crowd is laughing. The dancers are back for more. The last track is the most relaxing. Sort of Caribbean lullabies, evoking sunblasted rippling waves, swaying trees and triple strength exotic cocktails straight out of a tree trunk. I've got to admit that I didn't dislike any of it. Bring them back again soon.
"Nina from Finland" who isn't - she comes from London - is coaxed back on stage for a small solo cello turn while The Bastards get ready. It's a sublime jam, bit echo ambient, a bit Elgar in places Sure to bring out the weepy in everyone and topped off with a brief interlude cum encore of "You Are My Sunshine" Louis is watching and the moment Nina has finished, the two are thick as thieves. Possibly discussing future duets. Or the lonely professionalism of near non-stop practice. I think the two of them will be a smash hit for sure, yah, if they jam together at Xmas. So far, all the mesmeric bits have been classical performances. But The Hour of The Bastards is fast approaching. Who've we got this time?...
Well, there's Dan of course in the traditional Rod Stewart leopard spot tights. And a star encrusted blue and white cloak secured around his shoulders. Bassist/backupvox Dave Green in a lysergic green shirt and serious shades. Guitarist Dave Campbell in all his baggy glory. And Magnus on his second tour of duty behind the drum kit. Dave G asked me especially to make sure Magnus got all the credit going for being a super trouper. 90 minute rehearsal for a 30 minute slot. Tailored his style to suit the band which is 60 percent 100 percent original members. Mark, the other guitarist is in Beijing and the former drummers are scattered to who knows where. They were last together for Dan's 60th birthday bash on the beach.
The set kicks off with the old AC/DC hit "Livewire". A long blasting track, it unleashes the band and crowd to go mad. The little kids are gyrating around the plastic stools. The big kids, aka parents, are unleashing their inner boogiedance beasts in fine, insouciant and frenetic style. You all know who you are. It's on all the film. In fact, one of you is me having my Neil Young jerky funk gyrate and wobble response to "Keep On Rocking In The Free World" But I overreach myself. That hasn't happened yet. The second song is "Soulsinger" the second track on the first Bastard's album. It's The Soundtrack Of Our Lives sixties riff remixing skills colliding with glam rock, good, Sweet and having an almighty ruckus for top dog status. It's a heartfelt return cum tribute to the groovy sounds of The Last Millennium. Duelling vocals, Who style bellows for "My-my-my Gen-gen-generation" and Eddie and the Hot Rods "Do Anything".
Meanwhile Parksy's entertaining laser lights are slicing through the crowd. The kids are all interrupting the beams like Jean Michel Jarre playing his laser harp. There's a funky/rock/sort-of jazzy version of "Fire" and a full tilt headlong boogie rock through "White Riot" and "Should I Stay Or Should I Go". Both by The Clash. At least 3 cameras are recording the mayhem for future embarrassment. The set ends with "We've Gotta Get Out Of This Place" and a second AC/DC offering of "Whole Lotta Rosie". Alas no time to play "Babylon's Burning" to counter or complement Srishadows earlier Babylonian epic. Another endearing, thoroughly ramshackle, yet totally professional performance by The Bastards. As usual.
Time is tight now. The show stops at 2000 and the Curs are still to play. They'll get about 25 minutes or so to cock their legs and cut loose. Leigh is straight into the breech, dear friends, As the octet fine tune and prepare, Leigh jumps straight in. One man and his guitar and a mission, he kicks things off with "Foxy Lady" in his own inimitable style. It lasts a couple of minutes, but at least he''s had his share of the solo spotlight. Meanwhile, the Other Seven amble into action. Magnus, having had a brief drink break is up for his third show stopping performance of the day. Davey and John are back for their second. The Reverend Hank is ready to lay fire and brimstone on all you sinners. Frazier's back from Hawaii, just for this show. Jacob is strumming a mandolin and Gareth is on electric bass....
Oops flashback! There was a nice acoustic set from Christine and the Acoustics. More local talent and some plucky performances. There's Christine, Norville and Miko mellowing out. Kids are sitting at the front of the stage. The melodies are soothing and everyone is enjoying - right flashback over. That's about all I got as I was on another drinks run. Here's more of The Curs.
Starting with "Folsom Prison Blues", The Curs ease their way into the show. Everyone knows all the songs they play from umpteen previous gigs. The "Kiss May Ass" number about being sent to Vietnam. There's the one with the nifty chorus of "take me back to the track, Jack" as the grooving and gurning increases. John tells us that "...this is Lamma Fun Day, times two". Ambiguous that one. Nicest definition is that it's a continuation of LFD's revels from last week. Another interpretation is that it's twice as much fun as the LFD revels from last week. Make your own choice, depending on how much fun you had or didn't have at the LFD revels last week. Or just accept it's part of Lamma's charm. As John reminds us, Lamma "...is the most important place in the world to visit in Hong Kong". But, sssh, The Reverend is administering to his flock. A double dose of "Praise The Light" and "Plastic Jesus" to heal the immoral and fanatical amongst us. It's working, too. Drunks are attempting to walk. Dancers find their inner stumble rhythms.
And I keep imagining how the show would sound if it had a polished digidelic dub remastering. Live if possible. All the instruments are clearly visible In between blinks. The sound is a Lamma Phil Spector Wall Of Sound party hearty remix. Everyone is playing along. Magnus is heard. Davey's fiddle soars. Jacob's mandolin is fleeting. No "Maggie May" moments there in the sonic stew. I'm trying to imagine the instruments fading in and out of the mix. Fiddle and vocals. A burst of acoustic strumming. Leigh's electric flurries snaking in and out. It's all too much. I think that was my head exploding.
And that is sort of how I feel when I see Alba standing right in front of me as I sit on the pitch in front of the stage making up this piece of faction. She doesn't seem to be filming more scenes from the Neverending Lamma Documentary. I think she's also waiting for me to return her "Actor Release Form." It's a piece of legalese I need to sign if I want to be in the Documentary. Leaving aside the minor quibble about "Actor" and "Documentary" being incompatible, I do have some problems with the Form. Basically, there is no benefit to me at all in signing. No promise of any future benefit either. In short it's a sleazy grab for all the goodies. I get no say in how my video/audio performances in The Lamma Documentary can be used. Alba and John and all their successors can do what they want, even against my wishes. And this Form is binding - Get This - to Beyond The End Of Time.
Say, hypothetically that The Lamma Documentary becomes such a cult hit because people are raving that you must see this film. There's a man with a long beard in it. Hilarious. Breathtaking. Worth the price of admission alone. And The Lamma Documentary becomes so mega successful it relegates James Cameron to the financial status of the late Edward D. Wood Jr. Alba and John and their successors, trustees et al don't legally have to pay me dime one. Morally it's a different issue. I'd like to think they would do the right thing, but... A touchstone for a fair deal is to turn it around 180 degrees and see if you would still sign. Maybe this is the new brutality of Entertainmentland contracts. If so, you can have it.
I recently did some shots for a clothes ad to be shown mainly on the Mainland. Got paid for my day's work. The company has the rights for two years. That seems fine. No problem there. But this Form leaves a very nasty taste. That's OK. I don't have to sign. Neither should anyone else until they get it checked out with another lawyer. So, bottom line is that this Form has pissed me off. I won't sign. So that's me out of the movie I guess. So be it. If others don't sign, where does that leave the movie? Of course, for a documentary you don't need to have every single participant sign. If that was the case Woodstock would never have been released. They'd still be tracking down some half a million people. I don't know if Alba and John ended up in this position through naivety. Or was it a blatant Karl Rove-ian power grab deal. If anyone wants to read the Form for themselves, I have some copies. The Form doesn't ban me from making photocopies to give to other people. Or to put on the Internet.
So, at last the tale is told. Briefly a great day of ups and downs. Mesmerising and polarising in equal measure. Plus cool other moments Also, heroes and villains to strut their moments on the stage. Thanks to the Rural Committee for a great day. Thanks to Dan and Sharon at the Island Bar for all their hard work Thanks to everyone, including dogs, who performed their roles of tiny cogs in the great machine to perfection Here's to many more (boom!)....
_________________ Click here for Lamma-zine stories and recent Lamma Spotlights of the Week:
Photo, Video, Person, Wildlife, Bird, Artwork.
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
