Desertfest, London 2023

Cross too big?

Friday

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did venture to the Desertfest in Camden on Coronation weekend, 2023. Beginning at the Black Heart, as I am fussy where I spend my beer money, Gnob sounded like drum and bass sped up a little with some guitar and vocals to make it more interesting. Listened to few tracks. Spaceslug provided a diligent 4/4 grind (without any blues feel), some of the rather formless songs more successful than others. Valley of the Sun added to this some more riffs and even occasional tunes. Church of Misery provided some sludgy, doomed themes, miserable indeed. Now, Vinum Sabbathi were rather odd sounding, as though sequenced with whistling synth effects and tape of  someone resembling an astronaut playing throughout, apparently from Mexico, where astronauts are otherwise rare, I imagine; I may need to look further into this band. I decided to have a healthy dinner and ventured to the nearby Subway

Sun, somewhere.

, where I found a seat outside and a six inch meal was kindly only charged at £5. This was followed by Damage playing standard thrash with added mosh at the Underworld. Ecstatic Vision from Philadelphia sounded like a confused version of The White Stripes. I could not quite get into them. Graveyard played a bluesy rock a bit sped up. Unremarkable, thought I.

Electric Funeral finished with Black Sabbath covers quite well, at least the guitars sounded the same as Black Sabbath last time I saw them. There was a bit of a buzz when he sang 'My name is Lucifer, please take my hand', which to be honest we did not feel much earlier in the day. But generally not too bad, though it is strange how quickly one becomes accustomed to paying £6.40 for pint of Camden Pale Ale. 

Saturday

Dressed in white, honestly.

After contemplating the anointment, I began the afternoon with Our Man in the Bronze Age at the Black Heart. This band had a very loud bass guitar and some songs that included actual singing, quite unusual for this fest. One or two of the tracks I thought might benefit from a relisten. Weedeater I was thinking were loud but rather vague to start with, but then I got into their groove some more. Very much like Bongzilla, maybe they are Bongzilla. I last saw Crowbar at Wacken in 2017, here they were a bit less memorable, maybe because previously they had made such a shocking change from the preceding band (Bob Geldof). A few were lacking sufficient beards, but they certainly like their stoners solid and heavy down in NOLA. Slomatics contributed slower riffs from Ireland, joined by a cat from Elephant Tree at the end. We then dined at Camden's new Wendy's, well it was not as good as last time either, which would have been the Wendy's in UV, Los Angeles, in 1996, where I distinctly remember much greater lashings of various spicy sauces. About the same as Burger King but the burger not as juicy, nevertheless I would remark on the free tomato ketchup squeezer, being a rare thing nowadays. I finished at Powerhaus, aka Dingwalls by the lock, where I have never previously heard a rock band, to see the Church of the Cosmic Skull. They were all dressed in white and sounded like a throwback to the new 60s Ghost, but with two girls singing at the back, easy on the eye, but unfortunately on the ear too as I could not hear either of them. Maybe they were holograms. Vocals were actually provided by a gruff long hair at the front. I liked the idea of this band more than the execution, and thought the song writing could have been stepped up. Though "All going to die" was fun, and will look out for them again.

Sunday

Short Ceremony.

Starting Sunday in the Roundhouse, Blood Ceremony played a few new songs which I do not feel I need to hear again, and seemed to finish a bit early, so I was a little disappointed. The three piece Nebula were probably the most similar to a straight up (though loud) rock and roll band, despite the name. 

Zetra with Headlights.

After dinner at the King of Falafel by the Underworld, where the grease poured from the bottom of the wrap (which is actually not what you usually get a kebab in, we noticed too late), and what grease remained disturbed my swallowing for some time (indeed, I do not think I will be returning to this kebab house though the owner was quite friendly), on the way back I had a pint at the Wetherspoon's on the lock (£2.39) and dropped into see Zetra at the Powerhaus, unexpectedly discovering embarrassingly enjoyable gothic 80s synth rock and a couple of very good tunes. 

Boris didn't bang the big gong.

Now, a lot of people had been talking about Boris, and I was wondering what he had done now. But this was, in fact, a band, called 'Boris', playing at the Roundhouse. I could not hear them very well as shortly after they started I thought I had better wear earplugs. There seemed to be some interpretive dance going on, some atmospheric songs, and some crushing ones. I fear one would be better off comprehending the concept more before experiencing this in the flesh. 

Lacking only crown.

The festival finished with Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats, who are badly in need of a double live album to better express the Mighty Splendour of their rhythmic drive, the records being a bit weedy. It was a fine finish, and in time we will no doubt be acclaiming them as royalty, of rock, not least. 
 
    

 

Eleanor of Aquitaine by Alison Weir (1999)

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did read Alison Weir's biography of Eleanor of Aquitaine, wife of King Henry II and mother of Kings Richard and John, finishing it in June 2020. This took a while, as it is rather long, but more particularly because the cast is quite extensive and they often have very similar names, suggesting some Equity card system would be useful for French dukes and the like, as each paragraph needs to be read slowly to get them straight. The author follows the sources so closely she starts to think like them: unless she is being tongue in cheek when she writes, for example "the fact was that Geoffrey [of Brittany] was dangerous, slippery, treacherous and grasping" (p. 207). No  insight into Eleanor as the feminine aspect of medieval life will be found here. Most of the book is a gruesome rendition of leaders resembling mafia barons, avenging perceived slights. In fact, I am not convinced anyone really knows much about Eleanor other than on which date she happened to be somewhere, and not always even that, either. Nevertheless, this is a thorough account of the bloodletting around her. 

Churchill: Walking with Destiny

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did read Andrew Roberts' biography of Churchill "Walking with Destiny" (2018), mainly in Agios Gordios. It is very heavy, as I became particularly aware while walking there over the hills from the airport. But perhaps not quite heavy enough - as a drama it is not easy to follow clearly what the other leading politicians of the period of the age were up to: Asquith, Lloyd George, Attlee flit in and out of the narrative like butterflies, pretty things visible only when entangled in the web. Also some important elements remain mysterious, at least to me, such as the gold standard controversy, the fall of Singapore, and if I am not mistaken we last hear of the Chindits deep in the jungle, where they may still be, like those Japanese on the bypassed islands, for all I know. The style is workmanlike, infelicities are rare - the repetition of 're-election campaign' on p 955, the occasional injudicious outbursts against fellow-travellers or other critics - particularly the leaders of India (apparently contributing nothing to the defence of the subcontinent against Japan, maladministering the relief of famine, and advising Britain to surrender to the mercies of Hitler); an odd list of internet rumours (p981f) that no-one who reads this sort of tome will have (previously) heard of; and the captioning of a photo (no. 67) of Kay Summersby. As for WSC himself, the book is a little tiresome as it runs through the early period pointing out how episodes of his early life pointed to his 'destiny'. Indeed in whole it is not far from hagiography - a typical section goes: 1. Churchill says or does something dubious; 2. people criticise him for it; 3. the author points out that Churchill in fact turned out to be right in the end, or if not, just reflected the attitudes of his time.  This would be comical, with any other subject. Though for this subject I am not sure the author is not right. There are several cats in the book, though unlike Nelson and the Munich mouser, Jock (p.991) is not indexed. 

Sleep at the Forum, 4 October 2019

Topless in Orange.

The only effects were lights, usually green, occasionally purple, offset by the insistent orange power dots of the amplifiers, and this time we were blessed with no projections. The rhythm progresses at what might politely be termed a steady pace, but this did not deter a desperately manic moshing front and centre; though Melachi reflects that moshing to Sleep resembles moshing to Gregorian chant, for sure it can be done, but why would one want to?

The Black Death by John Hatcher

I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did read The Black Death by John Hatcher (2008), in 2020, for contemporary reasons. It is an imagination of life in an English village, Walsham, during the plague, though sticks very close to records from the time. Unfortunately these records are mainly texts of ideal liturgical practice and rolls from the local court, dealing with successions and straying livestock. The latter are used nicely to demonstrate  the changes in prices and demographics, though one does wonder whether the locals were quite as religious as the other sources make them appear. Although this must be the most interesting time in the life of the village, the mysteries of life and death remain, and there is nothing else, so it is all quite sad, as with most things.

Uncle Acid, Electric Brixton, 26 January 2019

Acid moon.

Catsuit and flute.

I had not previously visited the Electric Brixton, and it seemed to have a very odd door policy, involving not letting anyone through the door. However, then they said the times had been wrongly advertised and in fact they had never planned to let anyone in until 7pm, even if it was pouring with rain. Inside there was nothing drinkable for a man but Kronenbourg in cans (poured into plastic cups) at great expense. Otherwise this it is a pleasant little place, even with balconies. Blood Ceremony gave a pleasant set which could have been rather louder, and included a new though not immediately remarkable single. Uncle Acid produce lo-fi albums but here we had excellent crunching sound and even a level of the sort of aural distortion you can get with valves played at the top of their output. The projections were  pointless most of the time but with some nice effects at the end. Audience was enthusiastic at the front, tiring towards the finish, and less keen on the material from the new album, with which judgement I concur. Notable also was that I do not ever previously recall a metal concert ending with a mellow guitar duet.

Sleep at the Shepherd's Bush Empire, 28 May 2018

Al, Bass Lord.

First 'Black Moth' were I thought rather good, and in excellent sound, particularly the song about the Blackbird. The crowd though largely present on time, were strangely quiet. But they were indeed dwarfed by mighty bass rites of the Reptile Masters themselves, much more lively than last year at the Roundhouse. To tell the songs apart you would have to be a bit of a specialist, for instead of riffs they play repeated chords, with monotone chants as vocals. Though would benefit from some psychedelic back projections, methinks. Although most of the stuff is fairly slow we saw some energetic crowd movement and even a brown-robed, diving-cylinder-wearing crowd-surfer, which was extremely cool.

Katchikally Crocodile Pool, Bakau, Gambia

I walked over to the Katchikally Crocodile Pool, in Bakau, which is in the middle of the town and not easy to find. There is first a pleasant museum with some masks and information about Gambia in the war. The pool itself is small and has many crocodiles, none doing very much. I stroked one on the back and it didn't seem to mind.

La Cabane du Surfer, Almadies, Dakar

Surfers, surfing.

I visited several times the "Surfer Shack" which is a slightly upscale beach bar on the rocks by the Atlantic waves in Almadies, Dakar; where, as the name suggests, one can have a beer (about 1500 CFA) and watch the surfers. It is quite big and very tidy with a large clean bathroom block. The pizza (4500CFA) was fine and the cocktail (4000CFA) quite strong. Service was not very visible which at least means you can stay the afternoon without people forcing drinks on you. Though the Frenchies do not seem to drink much anyway. There are not many sun loungers, for which I think they charge 2000FCA. Be warned, on some the back does not adjust!

The Maimouna bar and pizzeria on Saint Louis Island, Senegal

The manager Karim invited me into his bar, the Maimouna on Saint Louis Island, with plastic chairs and bare tables, announcing that the Gazelle beer was only 1000CFA for 0.6l, which indeed it was. I sat opposite a nice fellow who said nothing except bonsoir, not even trying to sell me a tour, after suggesting that the manager was bothering me. A fellow after my own heart, I thought. The locals otherwise were neither very friendly nor hostile. The experience, generally, not unlike that one finds in the midparts of the United States. The gentleman in military fatigues at the door said he was indeed from the military and offering security, on a break from the army. I asked him if such security was really necessary, as it seemed quiet area, and he avowed that indeed that was why he was there, so the area would remain safe and quiet. And thus it was, for my stay.

La Detente Hotel, Saly, Senegal

I stayed a few days at the Detente, which is a dozen rooms by the pool in the fishing quarter of Saly, a few dozen metres from a rocky part of the beach and a walk to the sandy parts in front of the resort hotels. It was 17kCFA per night with beer at 1kCFA/50cl can in the bar; no food but only two hundred metres from the main drag, where a 3-course meal is about 5kCFA, though with a big supermarket also available. Although the locals and hawkers in the streets are mainly calm, the area is marred by a couple of persistent pests.  But here is a safe little place where no-one will bother you, managed by a charming French couple with several helpful waitresses, and Karla the dog. There were sometimes interruptions to wifi, power and water. Some may like to lie on the loungers and enjoy the chanting from the Koranic girls school next door. They arranged for me a taxi from here to the new airport, taking under an hour and 15,000CFA.

Hotel Amitie Bounty, Mbour, Senegal

I stayed at the Hotel Amitie Bounty on the beach in Mbour for a few days. Any person who makes it to the end of this review and wants to find it should note it is a few blocks north of the 'Safari Club'  (not as currently shown on 'google maps'), and pronounced 'BOONty' which is important to know as you will have to ask people the way. Rooms were about 15000CFA. I do not think they have a computer or smartphone (and so no wifi), so you may have to ring to avoid the (admittedly somewhat unlikely) possibility they are booked out. I think I was the only guest and the large number of staff welcomed me as one of the family, particularly when I bought them drinks. Some may find the level of attention  disturbing. The enclosure and the small property is beautifully decorated in an odd African Buddhist style, though more than a little tired. The area by the pirogue-laden beach has tables and sunloungers, and is closed with a fence from the children swimming in the smooth sea. Mbour is a working fishing town, but they could perhaps clean up the beach a little. In the evening they played music from the radio (though omitting to switch the channel when presenters just talked), and I believe sometimes there are parties. The food was nice, though the fish was a bit dry and could have been marinated more, but at only 2500CFA with beer at 1000CFA this was the cheapest I found; though one had to wait for the nice lady to nip to the market to get whatever you wanted cooked. There was no liquid milk for the coffee, at 50CFA, though eventually I bought some myself.

The room was large, the bathroom only partly separated from the living area -- which would be unlikely to suit couples not still very much in love. Such a couple might nevertheless have been concerned about the lack of toilet seat, toilet paper, the low shower water pressure, indeed, no water at all or electricity on several occasions,- and the unsweptness under the bed and the lack of change of sheets and very hard pillows. The door frame had been defeated on an earlier entry attempt and repaired with a short piece of plasterboard over the bolt, which would not have deterred an excitable terrier; indeed I myself forced it once by accident, not noticing it was locked. The shutters could not be pulled shut as the wood had swollen (assuming they had fitted in the first place). The handle of the locks on the fly shields were missing and the inner lock on the glass pane would not have lasted an abrupt push. Though it was quite high up. I did not sleep much as I fancied myself in some horror where the friendly locals turn into flesh eating zombies at night. After weeks on one's own arguing with Africans about prices, change, or just trying to avoid being followed, one can become a little unhinged. I did in fact get most of my change back from these people, other than 1000CFA for change for a bottle of water when I arrived and the same from a waitress, who I suppose might have thought I had left it with her to buy a drink for herself (though I had previously explained, in impeccable French, that it is normally polite to make a least a little small talk with someone if you wanted them to buy you a drink, which I would have thought would be the custom in Africa too, but what do I know?) But despite its challenges I quite liked this hotel and will drop in again in the (admittedly unlikely) event I ever return to Senegal.

Residence Les Calanques, Dakar

Plage Virage.

I did stay about a week at the Calanques Apartments, Dakar, in November 2017. The assistant manager, Mame, was kind enough to pick me up from the airport nearby (this was the old airport which closed three weeks later) at about 2.30am with a sign with my name on it. The cab was battered and the lights in the car park flickered erratically; he informed me there was a general power cut, and indeed in the apartment there was no power at all except for the torch function on my mobile phone, though with no way to recharge it or use the aircon or modem. I was wondering if this was closer to the Congo than I had expected. Nevertheless I unwound the mosquito net and collapsed onto the bed. The pickup and the early check-in were charged the next day at 40k CFA and they provided a local Sim card and credits for 5k CFA. After some further hours of flashing the power was restored and worked fine with modem and aircon for the rest of the stay. I had been upgraded to a large 'studio' on the ground floor of a modern block with a separate large, well equipped kitchen lacking only a table and including a fridge which worked (if plugged into one of the outlets which worked). A decent supermarket was 5 minutes walk. There was no sound from the airport but some banging during the day from construction a few buildings away. The place was ten minutes walk from the beach at Plage Virage, with half a dozen restaurants, two beach bars and reasonably pleasant hawkers. A taxi to Almadies, which has some more restaurants and beach bars, was 1000CFA (£1.35) though one could just walk, or jump on a bus for 120CFA. A taxi to the Beaux Marrachiers bus depot was 3000CFA and to the center of town supposed to be 2000CFA though one could wander up the road to the airport and take the no. 8 bus from there for 200CFA (but this is extremely tiring, takes hours and I would not recommend it). This was quite a nice though not particularly cheap apartment, though I would have preferred some fans rather than the aircon, but I am not sure how many people will stay in this area with the new airport closer to the resort at Saly.

Wacken festival, August 2017

In mud we trust.

 We attended the Wacken 2017 music festival, in cowfields an hour's drive north of Hamburg. Beer was disappointing, being 'Becks' at €4/0.4l, but after a while I decided the 'Wacken Mead' at €5/0.4l was much tastier, stronger, and better value, or even the 'mead bier', particularly as it was not especially warm. Organisation is quite civilised. First, you can park the car next to your tent and it is not far to walk from there to the stages. A friendly tractor driver is available if you get stuck (after signing a disclaimer in some foreign language). Second, both the main listening areas have several stages alongside playing alternately, so it is usually only a five minute wait for someone to start. Unfortunately, it was not allowed to take a comfy camping chair into the arenas. There was a nice medieval village with many food selections and even a Celtic music stage. However, I swear the ground in the arena was muddy before the gates even opened. Pits were pathetic compared to 'Download' in England, and the crowd older. A wide selection of metal music was played, though without the standard headliners. I think one could certainly make this event a regular fixture, rather than a pilgrimage.

Petul, Katzenbruchestr., Essen, Germany

This place had a strange telephone for the reception, which did speak English, but the studio itself was quite nice, though narrow. My stay was most memorable for the vault-like door, and the shower, which had many complex nozzles. It took a lot of time with cold water spurting to figure out how all the controls worked. I had to use the strange telephone again to find the wifi code as well. I also think it could be clearer whether one is expected to park along the side or at the front of the residence, as it is not very clear (at least to somewhat not from Germany) whether there are any restrictions on the street. Obviously there was no restaurant, but local facilities included a then-closed Lidl supermarket next door and a suitable kebab shop round the corner.

Iron Witch at the Black Heart 19 August 2017

I saw "Iron Witch" at the Black Heart, Camden, on 19 August. This was a very heavy band and I could not hear any themes they may have had very well. I would say, on a scale of 1 to 100 with Guns and Roses at 5 and nothing but very loud amplifier feedback with bass at 100, they might be rated 95. However, I would rate the beer, Camden Pale Ale, very good.

Opium Lord at the Black Heart

A Wandering Opium Lord. 

I and a few dozen other people attended this gig at the Black Heart on 8 July, 2017. The first band This Ends Here had quite interesting changes of pace and theme but I thought seemed very much as though they were reading sheet music and needed more practice to get into the flow. The second band Grey Widow were very fuzzy and heavy in a simple and slow way with mildly innovative squeaky vocals. I am not sure if they played more than one very long track. The third band Opium Lord came up with some fine riffs that occasionally progressed into something a little bizarre, and at other times maintained the line. Their vocalist was of the shouty school, and wandered in a curiously masterful way in front of the platform.

Garsoniere Victor Seaview, Constanta, Romania

I stayed in this studio "Garsoniere Victor Seaview" in Constanta for a few nights. The room is quite large, with TV, wifi and aircon, though the kitchen and the bathroom are very small. I was on the ground floor, so there wasn't any 'seaview'. It is close to the beach, though a deserted section of it -- which may be good or bad -- and a small 24 hr supermarket is nearby. The proprietor was very friendly and did not object to me checking in after midnight (due the trains missing their connections). It is rather a long walk to either the resort at Mamaia or central Constanta, though some restaurants can be found 10 minutes stroll up to the main road.

Hotel Sir Gard de Nord, Bucarest

View of gas station roof and station.

I arrived at this very inexpensive hotel in June 2017 and they offered me a clean room with its own bathroom above the gas station and not a bad view of the Gard de Nord, from where I could take a bus to the airport the next day. The location wass surprisingly pleasant and any rough types seem to have long been moved on. The air conditioning was not working (though it may be one has to ask for a control).

National History Museum, Bucarest, Romania.

This museum of haphazard history contains a selection of Roman and a few later medieval stones, combined with a reproduction of Trajan's column, which commemorates his defeat of the Dacians (who lived here before the Romans came). There is also an impressive collection of gold objects through the centuries, beginning with 3 fine helmets from about the 4th century BC. Puzzlingly, one can find hidden in a gallery with an entrance in the corner, and easily missed, an extensive and well contextualised exhibition of Romania in the first world war, with English translation. Obviously, to be a first class national history museum this has to all be put in to order and the gaps filled in! But not so bad as far as it goes.