Playlouder - Content: Dour Festival 2008

Content: Dour Festival 2008 - Dour Diaries Part 2

Day 2

10:27
Finally awake. Had many nightmares until about 6 when I started getting actual sleep. Quite noisy. At one point I was sure someone was in my tent trying to rob my stuff, which is unlikely as I have nothing worth stealing except my aloe vera and fennel toothpaste and peanuts. Will look for a shower now.

11:08
Had a refreshing shower. A French couple in the next cubicle kept making awkward exclamations so I assumed they were trying to have sex. When I got out they were still trying to adjust the temperature. I didn’t even know it was possible to adjust the temperature. People are already drinking Stella Artois at Camp D bar. In fact, I don’t think they stopped. Will hit the site soon.

12:09
Got programme and beer. Now lunching on nuts and milk cocolate buttons – which I mistook for white chocolate buttons. Damnit. I always make that mistake! Orfeo are on stage. They are brasstastic. They appeal mainly to small boys – nice work if you can get it I’m sure, but I find their melodies ponderous and the rhymes are predictable, even though they are in French. I might head over to see the ominously-titled My Mortality in a bit.

12:32
My Mortality were, amazingly, even more generic than their name suggests. With bigger muscles, rattier beards and longer hair than I could ever have hoped for. There’s clearly a place for them, though, and the enthusiasm with which they launched into their Soundgarden tribute set does them credit. Back at Orfeo I feel I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. Was yesterday the best day? Have I missed all the boats? Time will tell. (Time does that.)

12:45
Awaiting The Germans. “Fuck Sarko – Revolution” is an interesting piece of Belgian (French?) graffiti and a nice complementary piece to that which I saw in Brussels: “Politics Liquid Shit” with a picture of a poo next to it. The poo looked solid enough.

13:15
The Germans are the best of the bad bunch so far today by quite a bit. Sort of post punk noise, occasionally veering towards a hard variety of garage rock. It’s a stylish sound but the never quite hit the nail on the head for me. I think their next album should be more song-based. They talk in French and sing in English. But they’re called The Germans. Identity crisis, much? Must be Belgian I guess. Or Swiss. Oh I’ve found a mobile phone. Better go hand it in…

13:25
Handed the phone in. Have come to watch Ultraphallus. Interestingly, it’s mainly guys here in Le Petit Maison Dans Le Prarie. It’s kind of a crusty metal affair and certainly more interesting than My Mortality. Much better name too. The pacing is cruel and I like it. The lead screamer manages to vocalise without flexing his arm muscles annoyingly – that’s a rarity in young metal bands. In fact he just sort of leans forward and occasionally plays what looks like an electric kazoo. Dressed all in white he looks like a bit of a mentalist.

14:05
Yes, Ultraphallus were pretty intense. First band I’ve stayed throughout. Nice stoner/sludge metal, ace, uncomplicated drumming. Good stuff. The odd descent into murky but rhythmical noise and the last track featured a saxophonist to add to the cacophonix. Truly they are a band worthy of their name.

14:17
V.O. look like nice guys but they sound like a wetter Belle and Sebastian, if you can imagine such a thing. This band needs more funk1 (I never thought I’d be saying that about anyone.) Even the girls in the crowd who look like wet Belle and Sebastian fans have got up and left. I think it’s too early in the day for anything on quite this level. I’m going to follow the girls. (Not actually follow them of course – I’m not a perv!) (Or am I?) (No!)

14:20
Stumbled in on the end of Poulycroc covering ‘Fiesta’ by The Pogues! Nice. Wish I’d seen more of their set. Now I think this band is Future of the Left, not At The Drive In as I originally thought. I’m not into hardcore. I’m going back to the tent for lunch. They say they hate ska. Do I care?

15:22
Tell a lie – I obviously did care. That song was really good – I turned on my heel (ouch) and ended up watching their whole set. They’re not really hardcore either. It’s excellent on-point overexerted interesting rock and/or roll ramshackle glory. I think they’re Welsh and if it weren’t such an obvious reference point I’d say they remind me of McLusky. [Okay, I found out they basically are McLusky – Voice of Hindsight] The bassist is a demon. “Marc Bolan was right / There are no ghosts in this town”. I like Future of The Left.

17:35
Fell asleep after an hearty lunch of peanut butter sandwiches and rushed to see The Enemy, who still aren’t on and appear not to have bothered turning up to Dour at all.

18:15
Nope. No The Enemy. What’s worse, Agnostic Front are exhibiting their not-that-unique brand of shit-yourself-core, rage-against-the-machinery, swearing-is-cool crap jock metal. God they suck.

19:09
Saw some French Canadian hip-hop (I think) by the name of Omnikron. Was sort of like French hip-hop but whiter. Meh. Then I discovered The Red Frequency area, which was quiet and grassy, so I undiscovered it and wandered by Ratatat, who were pretty much exactly how I expected them to sound, hence why I never bothered listening to their album. They’re a banquet of adjectives for PR folk to feast on but nothing to get your teeth into. Their underwhelming electronica couldn’t even give me a headache let alone a hard-on. I’m sort of sick of the sight of people right now, too. Especially people in board shorts and crap hoodies. It’s like being at sixth form again. I want to be up on that hill over there but I have no idea to reach it and don’t fancy ou esting the colline en Francais, sil vous plait. Maybe tomorrow I will go for a proper wander.

The people in the tent next to me are always there when I am and they are always playing Queen on their stereo. I think it rains. Yes, it rains.

Ratatat are still going. Tune-wise, they’re at a better place right now, but it’s still unchallenging and horribly cool, and basically sounds like an embellished midi file.

19:52
Some avant-jazz orchestra of about 14 people – possibly The Flat Earth Society Meets Jimi Tenor – is currently entertaining me in Club Circuit Marquee. It’s raucous, rambunctious, perhaps even audacious stuff and really ought to be soundtracking some pretty epic silent film with monsters in it. The floorboards in here are already beginning to loosen and buckle. Makes for fun walking but you have to be careful where you sit. Some dude just borrowed my pen. That’s the most human contact I’ve had in ages!

20:24
Life of Agony were the worst band so far (of my life, not just the festival) so I escaped to watch Arid, who are a sort of rockier version of Keane, but still far preferable to the aforementioned scumbags and purveyors of unadulterated bilge. I am now dining on salted peanuts.

21:18
Briefly took in Beans, but he failed to impress. Could barely hear his words and he was definitely rapping in English. What’s in a name? Cheap, nourishing, adaptable? Pfff. Beans is a loss-leader. They ain’t making their money out of this guy, that’s for sure. Anyway, I’m now awaiting the Notwist and writing a poem about hating stuff. It’s drunk o’ clock. Great – now it becomes difficult to stand the company of others, for I am less drunk than they. So far my only communications with other humans have been business transactions and the lending of my biro. People occasionally shout things at me in French but I ignore them. Wouldn’t you? The Notwist, who may or may not be Scandos, are just what I need right now. Post folk rock meanderings. And they know hoe to create controlled explosions of sound and energy too. They are quite lovely.

21:50

Things Belgians like, which I do not like:

Sirens / Fat drunk men charging around indiscriminately / Noisy balloons / Applauding noisy balloons / Noisy Walloons / Applauding noisy Walloons / Urinating everywhere / Huge branded “attractions” which promise, for example, the opportunity to win a Toyota / Board shorts / Jumping over my head while I’m writing ‘Boardshorts’ – I hope that little fucker dies / P.D.A.s / Those crappy plastic ‘sunglasses’ with gratings that recently turned up in Shoreditch / Stella Artois / Crap American jock metal bands / Impersonating crap American jock metal bands / Shouting “Motherfucker!” / Shouting loud sounds that are not words, waiting a few minutes, then shouting them again even louder / French people / Half pints (or thereabouts) / Their men touching me / Oh Ice Cube is on…

22:08
“I started this gangsta shit”… “bitch!”… “fuck!”… etc. He is pretty good though. This dude attracts crazies unfortunately – people who are more excited by the idea of Ice Cube than the actuality of listening to him. Oh my… so… Belgian punks like Goldfrapp and Ice Cube? Blimey. I simply don’t know what to say.

“I know you motherfuckers keep it gangsta here in Belgium!”

What? Think about what you’re saying, Ice Cube. Ice cube is now telling us to smoke some weed. The Belgians don’t need telling – they’ve all been doing that non-stop for days already. As for me? Chance would be a fine thing.

Ice Cube reminds us once more who started this gangsta shit (him – that’s who) and tells us he’ll rap when he’s 70 if he wants to. Fair enough. He launches into ‘Check yo self’ to remind his haters who started this. (Him.)

As I said, he’s good, but when he tells us “Belgium is part of the international world wide West Side” I have to leave, because I’m the only one laughing. I must get up front for Battles, anyway. At least for a bit.

00:45
Battles were good. Not quite as ace as last time I saw them. They took a while to get going and seemed somehow a little more tame than last year. Still pretty cool though. Wu Tang took even longer than Battles to get started and there were so many millions of people there, and so much rain, that I couldn’t take it anymore and had to leave. I was filled with contempt for my fellow man. You know it’s been a good day when you can say that. I picked the hardest, most uneven ground to sleep on. Worses curses.