Crookstock, 11th May 2002
at a mystery location
|The sun is out, the barbeque is lit and the cider
is flowing. That's the neighbours set up for the afternoon, only
for it to be shattered by the unearthly racket from number 14. Well,
more other-worldly, as the Hector Collectors are the first
act we encounter (having got held up on route and missed Stewart
Traquair). What of the Hectors then? Well, another collection
of songs which poke fun at minor local celebrities interspersed
with some covers plus the donning of Mickey Mouse ears and the
wholesale slaughter of some plastic soldiers. The band are however
in serious danger of 'over-production' since we can now hear
the words to some of the songs, including the discovery that
'Billy Sloan' is in fact quite generous to its subject, al things
Zebedee Numchuck are a different kettle completely - no witty lyrics - well, no lyrics at all, and where their predecessors on the patio stumble through songs with what are probably a contrived selection of deliberate mistakes, the Zebs, as their legions of fans now know them, are consummate professionals. Tight drumming, and neat guitar/bass interplay, and that description might make you think post rock. But no, this is 100mph speedcore, possibly. Whatever it is, it's as good to watch as it is to listen to.
|The Zebs spring into action|
|TBC -yes, definitely them||
The Boy Cartographer are making their outdoor live debut today and like everyone else have entered into the spirit of the event i.e. got as pissed as possible. This isn't a great problem, though they're not as together musically as usual, but who needs precision endings when you have songs as catchy as they write? A kind of Steps for the alt.rock scene, 'from 'Sketch' to 'Threnody' their set is as bright as the sunshine that bathes the audience.
|Which is more than be said for Macrocosmica. Well, what are a band that plays as close as you get to death metal as you can from an ex-Teenage Fanclub man, doing out during the hours of daylight? And indeed, toning it down for the agitated neighbours, with 'Lunarian's "this is my life, BLEEP you" refrain hastily written for the occasion. Sadly, this doesn't cut any ice with the neighbours who have presumably spotted back-masking, and call the cops.||
Bright sun machine
|call the cops! oh, you have...||The bands have fortunately hidden all traces
of, well, anything incriminating, by the time the Christian Investigation
Division arrive, and despite a few revellers best efforts, no-one
goes dahn for a long stretch.
And that was that. Until the next Crookstock, though it might not be quite the same...