I had learned about them over a year before actually encountering them, from their previous guitarist. Funnily enough, it would turn out I actually knew the current guitarist Tim since way back when. The purple thread of people and tunes keeps on guiding me towards the gems of the music scene.
Since hearing them, I have fallen head over heels in love with their music and energetic stage presence. After going through a few line-up changes, specifically with new additions Tim on guitar and Koen on vocals they’ve been working on their new and improved sound and I AM HERE FOR IT.
I have the immense pleasure of reporting that the final song, As Hope Erodes, off their new EP will drop this Friday the 21st! Another amazing tidbit of news they got to release last week, is that they will be playing at Alcatraz festival this year. Grab your tickets while they’re hot, you will want to be front and centre for this!
The Crown, the EP in question, showcases a fresh and unique voice in the Belgian Metal scene. It is a combination of aggressive rhythms and riffs, with dark and thought provoking lyrics screamed into the airwaves. This album will grab you by the throat and not free you from its claws until the last notes fade away. I usually do not write album reviews, so this post alone should tell you they are the band to look out for!
First up: title song and first release: The Crown. The searing riffs by Tim & Wim, underlined by an intense thrum of rhythm by Jelle on bass and Hans on drums, will surely quicken your pulse. The lyrics will speak to you of misery and desperation and will leave you melancholy.
Feast yourself on the accompanying music video which should already give you an idea of their live energy.
Building brick by brick A way to tear me down Construct my own demise Possibilities Of what could be Saturate my mind
Kingdom of my own misery Someone help me take it down You can take the crown, Take the crown
Save me, all I do is suffer Save me, all I do is drown Why won’t you save me I’ll embrace it I don’t want to wear the crown
Next up is Burning Ghosts, another dark glimpse into the abyss, albeit with a slightly more melodic undertone. Having said that, the roaring guitars, voice and rhythm section will still tear straight through your soul.
You’ll never walk alone They whisper haunting me I’ve got ghosts that lead the way Feeding on my decay The ghosts that haunt me Are living amongst us My boundaries They cross them Ignore them So unaware Time to burn Burn their bridges down
On to my absolute favourite song off the album: Into The Void. Don’t let the slower buildup to the wall of sound fool you, this one might be the roughest of the bunch, both literally and metaphorically speaking. A raunchy melody with words that will speak to the dirtiest of minds. A song of taking and surrendering control fueled by scorching riffs and a rhythm that penetrates your core.
Bow down The impulse is taking over me I want to put My hands around your throat Taking control of me This part I can’t resist Can’t hold back Let it out Bow for me White to black I am in control Eyes roll back Into the void Carefully selecting Instruments to bruise Not to break To mark, to use Shivers down my spine Shivers down my spine Admire the marks as you Pull the ropes Around your wrists
‘Nough said?
On As Hope Erodes, which will be released this Friday, I will leave you guessing so as not to spoil the surprise. Suffice it to say, it will shatter your heart in a million pieces, and glue it back together again over the course of five minutes and 7 seconds.
All together this EP goes from a hope that is beyond erosion and builds up to a newfound light at the end of the tunnel, all the while moving both your body and your soul.
I have it on good authority they’re already working on some new tunes, and having heard snippets (aah, the joys of being a writer and confidant), they will provide even more of the same eardrum-blowing music and lyrics that will tug on your heartstrings. Stay tuned!
Meanwhile, go see them live already! Or if you need some more convincing before you do, wait until part two of this series, where I follow the guys on a wild touralong.
If you still don’t believe me, just read what these industry specialists have to say about Hope Erodes:
With extreme giddy anticipation I’ve been looking forward to the 2024 edition of Brakrock on August 2nd and 3rd. Perfect time to look back on the previous year and get you guys equally excited with my tribute to the best festival in the world.The best bands, most idyllic location and greatest organisation made for two days that won’t easily be forgotten!
Ready for part four in my love song to the Brakrock festival? FINALLY time for some actual words about the performances!
DAY 1: Fuck that planning, follow the music & the people
The good thing about arriving well in time for a festival is that you’ll be one of the first in line to get through the gates. The drawback is that you might have to wait for what seems like hours (to my extremely enthusiastic mind at least) to actually get to walk through the doors. After a gruelling wait, I get access through the crew entrance. Way to make me feel special, Brakrock! ❤
Just in time to quickly grab a much needed drink and on to the first band of the day! The Stitches bring some old school vibes to the Wood stage and help start the day off with a BANG. The band has a no fucks given punk rock attitude and attack the stage full of energy. Loud, fast and heavy, just the way we like it! I didn’t know them before seeing them live, but they are now proudly featured in my playlists.
I see some first row dancers on mobility scooters and with walkers full of punk rock patches. This leaves me hopeful that even if my body breaks down before my mind and love for music does, I can still be rocking the festivals.
Even though I came prepared for the worst kinda weather, I am now getting a sunburn and move to the shade of the trees that this lovely location offers. Time to wish the singer a happy 68th birthday, noting how spry and energetic he is at that age and it is already time for the next band.
So far so good on following my meticulously planned out schedule of the bands I wanted to check out, I think. Buuuut then I decide to follow the spirited recommendation of Nick and tag along with him and his friends towards the Ruin Stage. (Sorry, We Outspoken.) I might be missing something at the River, but I can’t say I am very disappointed. On the absolute contrary!
I am greeted by the screaming ska core of the heavy, fast paced and feral sound of Public Serpents. I’m pretty ecstatic I followed Nick here, because boy oh boy I would have hated to have missed this. I quickly write down ‘Ska Metal?’, ‘What a band, what an atmosphere, such energy, that sound, what an absolute party!’ and then put my little black & white book away to enjoy, dance, smile and admire that beautiful sax in the corner. Ear plugs? Meh, I’ll gladly take the hearing damage for this.
Pictures courtesy of the talented Lad and Misfit photography, one of the other Purple People I met day one!
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUCEMENT: Want to see these guys live? (Spoiler alert: YOU DO!)
Mark July 12th 2024 in your calendar and get to Kortrijk for the show by Doomed Punx Bookings & Upstroke Records. They’ll be playing alongside Random Hand (UK) and Mise*En*Scene (BE). I haven’t yet discovered these other two, but reading their intros is already triggering me. In good Julie fashion, I will let myself get surprised by the sounds there.
Fun fact, I first learned of Doomed Punx and Jordy (left in above picture) on the 2nd Brakrock day, late in the evening. (Though we were both happily grinning and rocking out to the band at opposite ends of the stage as evidenced here by this picture by Lad and Misfit Photography.) We were hiding from some drenching rain in the merch tent, with the wonderful Koenraad of The Toy Dolls and got to talking about the Doomed Punx events. It nearly took me a year, but I’ll finally be able to attend one of their amazing events!
After the Public Serpents show I rush off to the stage and tell them that they’re now my favourite band and I WILL BE WRITING ABOUT THIS. Singer (and ex Choking Victim drummer)Skwert Gunn and the current Serpents drummer Keith Leming are being barraged by others wanting selfies, so I venture on over to Ty Miller who jumped off stage into the circle pit and kept playing his guitar while jumping along. He’s a full time musician and I discover he’s also part of Nomad Punk band Trying to get By and politically charged punk band (are there any other?) Voice of Addiction. As you can see by the pictures of their set, he goes ALL in while playing and is obviously one of those artists made for and by music!
We’re met then by incredible sax Player Eric Molina who is part of Latin Ska Core band Los Mal Hablados & self styled Satanic Ska Band Mephiskapheles . He had just met Public Serpents a few days earlier and filled in for their sick sax player. I love running into these people who just live for the music and seem to be on the road all the time to follow their passion.
Suddenly the three of us realise we’re missing The Slackers, next on my list, and whose Dave Hillyard is actually Eric’s sax teacher. We run in unison to The Wood stage to discover we’ve only missed a few minutes. Phew. The Slackers provide such danceable vibes, I completely forget to take any pictures during their set. Luckily the lovely Lad and Misfit photography has got me covered again!
They offer a chill reprieve from the mayhem we witnessed before. A perfect soundtrack for a great summer day. Their cover of Attitude by The Misfits is absolutely lit and the sax and trombone solos in between were fantastic. I wrote down they were ‘Fucking magically awesome’, as befits one of the bands who put Ska back on the map in the early 90s. I’d been meaning to see them for so long and they did not disappoint! The audience is bouncing and singing along, as the full band sings and plays their hearts out. A truly amazing experience I would HIGHLY recommend!
After their show and in searching for food, I run into Dave and get to yell at him a little how much fun I had during their set, that was frankly way too short in my opinion. See my sweaty happy face for reference.
Alas, I am too tired to run towards the River, so I stay near the Wood stage where I discover Funeral Dress is filling in for H20 who unfortunately couldn’t make it to Duffel.
Read all about the two times in two weeks I saw that legend of a Belgian punk band in the next throwback post to Brakrock!
Brakrock – Kasteel ter Elst – Duffel – August 4th & 5th 2023
Sean K. Preston | Thursday, April 25th 2024 – Titanic, Herenthout
It happened again. Of course it did. It’s all an integral part of the sneaky synchronistic ride the magic of the music is taking me on. It feels fated, whether I like it or not. Note from the author: I don’t just like it though, I absolutely love it. Drawn by the red thread that guides me through my new life, my new sense of me. I should have known better than to think I could avoid writing about this. It only took a couple of songs after which a loud ‘fuuuuuuuuck’ escapes my mouth into the general area around me. Suddenly my notes app has mysteriously opened out of its own volition. I find myself typing various cryptic expressions, full of misspellings and vague references to what I see unfold before me. This? This right here is SPECIAL.
I did try to fervently resist the urge to document this show at first because both my body and my mind are objecting to my busy schedule. No time or energy for it I proclaimed loudly and clearly to those around me, ALAS and woe is me. And yet every time when I am very much too tired but decide to nevertheless push through the limitations of my near somnambulant body, I am exposed to the most beautiful, exhilarating, inspiring and energy delivering moments in time. (Re: Joey Henry, Maid of Ace, Van Tastik and closer to home, bands like Bad Samaritans, Luna and de Maanstenen and many many more.)
Heading into the Titanic, I already notice this alluring specimen of an instrument. This already released the first I-need-to-write-about-this-pang, (as beautiful musical instruments tend to do) which I deftly still withstood. But let me tell you, the sound drawn from it by the skillful (glittery pink nail polish adorned) fingers of Sean K. Presten even outrivaled even its gorgeous body. I fell in love with it, mind, body and soul at first (auditory) glance. The range he gets out of those keyhole backed strings is unbelievable. From sneering near metal riffs, to bluesy bops, metallic bluegrass plucking and delicate acoustic notes, it goes all over the place.
It is still nothing compared to the vocal range that Sean brings to the stage! At some points, it seemed to me he was singing in two separate voices. He delights the captivated audience with an out of this world cover of House of the Rising song that leaves me breathless. I’ve heard this song so many times and it feels like I’m discovering it for the first time, here and now in Sean’s unparalleled voice and tempo. The recordings I am listening to while writing this don’t do those vocal chords any justice, even though they sound stupendous in their own right. The live experience is infinitely better, such as it tends to be with exceptional artists like these.
Sean is an astonishing story teller, a pink haired punk version in the legendary tradition of the likes of Johnny Cash and similar word weavers. Or word smith more like, where he forges a narrative from the fire of his voice, combined with the wielding of his guitar like the most powerful battle axe. An alternate reality of atmospheres that leave me laughing (Snakeskin Boots Boogie), crying (Homeward Bound) and constantly dreamily swaying to the music.
Speaking of Mister Cash by the way, between songs something draws my eye to the side of the bar. I take a picture of the above stickers and learn by word of Juice that they’re an amazing cover band of the man himself. Not a second later, I hear the opening notes to Ain’t No Grave and squeal in delight. I MEAN. This is NOT a coincidence. It’s the red guiding thread that links all the music I have had the privilege to (re)discover.
Meanwhile Sean is singing his heart out so hard that the mic falls down, he jumps from the stage into the crowd and both times an attentive audience member jumps to the rescue to untangle the cables. This brings to mind a thought I’ve had a few times already, in seeing artists with this sort of unbridled and unearthly talent. Why is this man ‘limited’ (not meant derogatory but more in terms of the size of the audience that gets to discover them) to such a small stage?
Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore these sorts of performances in venues that still breathe the music. (Like in the amazing Titanic where I finally ended up after a year of wanting to discover it.) It’s always such an intimate and breathtaking experience which you can probably never really simulate in a larger venue. But it still baffles me every time and it doesn’t seem fair to the artists that they can’t share the beauty of their art with more people. The menace of the marketing machine in the music scene I suppose.
Rants aside, I am leaning into the wall, feeling the music resonate all through me, my eyes closed, feel it gently fill me up and recharge me again from the inside out. I open my eyes and spot a random passerby in the street, through the window behind the stage. They’re entirely oblivious to the near religious experience (for me at least) they’re missing here. Alas, the last notes fade out, as they sadly always have to. I feel in my bones that this is turning out to be another year of impossibility in deciding which of the performances was better. A year full of highlights? I am totally ready to let it enrapture me.
I exclaim ‘WHAT THE FUCK WAS THIS’ to Juice and Rob who’ve been right behind me the entire show and have been getting that message in several silent glances throughout the show. Juice, who was Sean (and band’s) driver when they toured in Belgium six years ago, brings me over to the stage to introduce me. I gush a little about the performance and take the obligatory selfie to accompany this blog.
We get to talking and don’t really stop until long after closing. Eventually my body is begging me to finally get the fuck home and rest. So I wistfully say my goodbyes and leave. I eventually collapse into bed content with a bag full of musical memories I won’t soon forget. (And a few remarkable musical recommendations)
Pat Carter and Luis De Cicco (Rodeo FM) | Saturday, March 16th 2024 – The Black Flamingo, Nijlen
This show had already been on my radar since around September ‘23. I remember Jo being thrilled letting me know well in advance that half of Rodeo FM was booked to appear for a stripped down acoustic set at The Black Flamingo in March 2024. Knowing what an excited recommendation like this meant coming from him (and after a brief listen to not spoil too much for myself),I marked my calendar and passed through the ups and downs of another six months, which in hindsight flew by.
The fateful Saturday of the performance I was more than chuffed to be on the way to see Pat Carter and Luis De Cicco, half of the Berlin based Band Rodeo FM. I arrive in my home away from home, and almost immediately Pat Carter himself walks up to me asking me if I’m the author of DownSideUp. Why yes sir I am! An engaging conversation ensues ranging from musical history to commiserations about working in Communications and Marketing; from Kris Kristofferson to media planning. The tone is already set for an up close and personal musical surprise that is about to unfold before my eyes and ears.
Lights out, backdrop blinking merrily away behind them and it’s all aboard for Pat & Luis to take us on a journey through stories, time and genres. It’s difficult to label them under any genre but let’s call it a beautiful blend of bluesy, folky, rocking country influences, mixed in with a lot of anarchist punk spirit.
Rodeo FM has been called a politically left wing country band and Pat Carter remarks that a lot of the songs in the set don’t necessarily emphasise that. The title song to the newest album that came out a year ago (to the day I am writing this all down, as synchronicity would have it) however says it in just three simple words: ‘Right Wing Planet’. Here’s a full band version of that particular song, which suggests a different vibe to the intimate acoustic performance we were served at The Black Flamingo, but should give an idea of that punk mindset I was talking about.
What isn’t difficult to define, is that the first song in the set immediately travels through my senses straight into my heart. These two are part of that rare variety of artists that unfalteringly, yet effortlessly weave visual tales with mere words and notes.
Pat plays his acoustic guitar and sings spiritedly in a voice that puts me in mind of that other troubadour, Gipsy Rufina. A powerful yet delicate tone that fits well within this cosy blanket of sound.
Luis lets his fingers follow the notes across the neck of that gorgeous resonator guitar, eyes closed and seemingly one with the music. I’m reminded of one of my favourite Pixar movies of all time, Soul (I’m sorry guys, conformist commercialism incoming, but hear me out:), where musicians let the music flow through them when they get into the rapturous trancelike state of ‘the Zone’.
The beautiful instrument had caught my eye as soon as I walked into The Black Flamingo to which I noted ‘That is one sexy looking guitar!’ Somewhere further on in my notes I expand that sentiment to the sound of it; “That steel guitar is singing its own song’.
After the show I talk to Luis, fangirling over it (Like I tend to do when I fall in love with the gear). I find out that after admiring the Paul Beard signature resonator some time prior, he fortuitously bought it for a fraction of what it was worth off of a musician who couldn’t take it back with him. Of course a piece like this has its own story.
Back into the comforting arms of the music when I close my eyes myself and drift away, the words and notes flowing through the night. Earnestly I write down: ‘What is this! Love, love, love!’ Immediately I am immersed completely in that spellbinding voice and those strings strung with passion and perfection, and end up wholeheartedly content.
Near the end of the set The Black Flamingo’s most famous resident feline makes an appearance to cuddle and get a front row seat mere seconds after Pat sings ‘Miranda’, a break-up song in which the aforementioned Miranda took the cat, which is in itself a reference to the lyrics of The Way it Goes by Gillian Welch.(Author’s note: the following is not that song, just another great Rodeo FM tune, featuring Caramel getting comfortable.)
After their set, we get talking about instruments, musical influences and again much more. I am already 100% sure that this is going to be the first 2024 Black Flamingo passing that will appear on this blog. Meanwhile it is after midnight on the 17th of March, exactly a week to the day since that fateful Pete Bernhard gig in 2023. It’s only fitting I explain just how integral The Black Flamingo was to the reinvention of my special space on the web. The energy here tonight felt comparable to that night that marked my rediscovery of my love of music. A synchronicitous series of events to top off an enchanting night.
As a bonus, you have a fresh (and much more professional than my) recording to anticipate, because the duo passed by the recording studio of The Rua Room.
Deel 1: Luna en De Maanstenen | The Black Flamingo, Nijlen – 29 juli 2023
Afgelopen zomer stond alles in het teken van de vogels. (Nu ook nog, maar toen nog net iets meer.) Ik begin mijn notities hier dan ook met de profetische zwaluw die langs rakelings langs de auto scheert bij het inrijden van de yellow sand road. Me First and the Gimme Gimmes knallen van I believe I can fly uit de speakers, terwijl ik de auto parkeer. 24 u geleden dans ik nog de ziel uit mijn lijf bij hun Belgische tegenhanger, The All Star Wedding Band. 48 uur geleden zwalpen mijn dansbenen nog vrolijk door de Mechelse Kruidtuin op de tonen van Funeral Dress en de punk dj die de avond daar afsloot. Het is weer synchroniciteit al wat de klok slaat.
Deze twee optredens liet me echter lichtjes (ZEER) uitgeput en met een resem spieren die prettig (PIJNLIJK) nazinderden. De week erna zou Brakrock de fantastische Joey Henri opvolgen dus moest ik een beetje doseren. (HAHA) Aldus beloofde ik plechtig van voor een keer niet gelijk een gek in het rond te dansen. Moeilijk, moeilijk, moeilijk. Gelukkig was er daar Jo die speciaal voor mij een relax had gereserveerd, meteen mijn ego én rug in een keer gestreeld!
Snel wat ruimte maken op mijn gsm (afgeladen vol na een hele lente en halve zomer vol muzikaal hoogtepunt na muzikaal hoogtepunt), want ja ik weet nu al dat ik hierover ga schrijven. (Hoewel ik er totaal geen tijd voor heb en ik al hopeloos achter loop, getuige deze vertraging van 6.5 maanden.)
Luna noemde haar eigen verzonnen genre bubblegum punk (al zou kleinkunst-punk ook een treffende benaming zijn) en Jo had me al verteld dat de paarsheid er van af droop. Kan dat dan nog mislopen? Ik denk het niet. (Spoiler alert: it fucking didn’t.)
De energie die van Luna afstraalt en de smack talk die ze verkoopt tegen en over haar maanstenen is verfrissend. De basdrum zindert door de zetel en doet ZO deugd aan mijn pijnlijke rug.
De nummers knallen Nederlandstalig uit de boxen. De humor en zelfspot van de teksten doen me heel sterk denken aan Nele Needs a Holiday, which is always a great thing.
Wat een topstem heeft Luna trouwens, van lieflijk zacht naar lekker ruig zonder verpinken. En een out of this world outfit in haar paarse zijden jurkje met Duvelsokken piepend vanuit haar Doc Martins. Ahja, en de maanstenen Jitse en Parker waren ook wel tof. (Kidding gasten, jullie waren beestig goed!)
Eerlijk is eerlijk, Luna is wel mijn rolmodel. De band verpersoonlijkt overigens wat ik altijd al met mijn droomband zou willen doen. De attitude, de sound en verhalende teksten, YES, meer van dat. En dat zal ik krijgen, een dikke 6 maanden later! Wordt vervolgd.
Voor ik vertrek mag alter ego Polexia nog haar allereerste handtekening plaatsen op Will de metal krokodil. Bij mijn vertrek onder een prachtige sterrenhemel hoor ik vanaf de overkant van de polders Zap Mama zingen. A perfect end to a great night.
Author’s note: I’m mostly going to let the videos speak for themselves this time. (Mostly.) Enjoy.
Joey Henry‘s Dirty Sunshine Club | Saturday, August 12th 2023 – The Black Flamingo, Nijlen
Somewhere in the lush green fields of Nijlen lies the yellow sand road leading to The Black Flamingo. This ain’t Kansas anymore, but a welcome home away from home to puddle photographer & poet Joey Henry. It’s been little over a week since he passed through Heist-op-den-Berg and I’m frankly still reeling. I invited some more Purple people to enjoy the show with me and am greeted by Juice & Rob who got an honourable mention after the WhiskeyDick/Hunnicutt trifecta.
One stroke of the strings, I close my eyes and it’s just me and the music. The first notes hit home like nothing else. The approving murmurings reveal we’re in group therapy and there’s still people alongside me to take in the musical medicine. The notes draw the audience in like a virtuous vortex, (or shall I compare it to a Kansas hurricane) and the resulting hushed silence is a nice backdrop to the sound. I knew what to expect and the sound still baffles me.I open my eyes for a second to see some mouths dropping in awe around me.
Joey Henry has a voice like a cathedral and might not even need the microphone to emphasise his songs, judging by how far away he sings from the thing. His voice goes from the deepest bass up so many registers like it’s nothing. He’s a story teller, in true Americana fashion, and every song could be its own little movie. The way he loses himself in his songs is mesmerising to watch. Closing his eyes and chasing the notes across the neck of the beautiful banjo that has seen some miles, judging from the patina on top. He plays that thing like it’s an electrical guitar, pounding the strings and bending to his amp to use the feedback as an additional layer to the music. At some point it sounds like there’s a theremin mixed into it all.
After a pretty wrecking start of summer and first week of August, all my joints hurt to the high heavens.The sound and vibrations of the music are so soothing however that the musical medicine doesn’t just heal my soul but my body as well. Joey breaks out the guitar and asks if there are any requests. Thanks to Juice, Henry goes back to his banjo, rolls up his sleeves and tears into an immensely captivating rendition of Kites. Tears, I love you’s and hugs all around after the song ends. What an experience, being here on this glorious night and letting it all wash over me.
As if all that beauty hadn’t been enough, Joey invites local band Braca’s Seppe and his accordion to the stage.
You might not believe me after seeing that video but they simply conferred two minutes about the chords and then this happened.
They lean into it and the voice and depth of these songs sear into the depths of the soul. There’s a whispered reverence as the set draws to a close with Everything kills us all on the ukulele.
As if all of these weren’t magical enough, after a well deserved break to catch our breaths, (Joey from singing his heart out, the audience from staring breathlessly at the stage.) us lucky few move to the fire pit in the back garden.
A halfmoon and clear and starry sky shines on the encores and an audience unabashedly relishing every last note that gets thrown our way. The fire crisping a happy crescendo to a night well spent.
The start of the new year, in the calm before the storm of a whole series of new events. Perfect time to reminisce about 2023 and catch up on some stories I kept up my sleeve. I wrote the following somewhere in September:
It starts off as another magical walk, reminiscing on the beautiful musical rainbows. I have yet to regale you with the tale of meeting the beautiful ultra-purple person that is Joey Henry, whom I met somewhere at the start of August. I haven’t had the time to find the right words to describe the two nights I spent with him and his music.
Let’s just say that aside from being an immensely talented musician, he’s also a phenomenal photographer. I snagged one of his prints, Kansas rainbow included, at the first of his shows I saw at Den Oude Ketel. (Yes, the very same spot where I saw that other impossible rainbow months earlier, after that magical James Hunnicutt set.)
Kansas Rainbow by Joey Henry
Today is the day I finally try and demystify the wonderful moments of musical medicine I got to experience at the start of August. It started out with a good bad decision on account of a bad case of FOMO. Joey Henry‘s Dirty Sunshine Club was to hit the stage at The Black Flamingo on August 12th and Jo had hinted to me it was going to be legendary.
Joey Henry @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – August 3rd 2023
I took note and saw he was also going to play Den Oude Ketel in Heist-op-den-Berg as well and I was faced with a terrible conundrum. Was I going to keel over if I added another day of music to the Brakrock weekend that would follow? The answer turned out to be yes, in hindsight, but luckily I managed to stay on my feet until after every bit of music had transpired.
Joey Henry‘s Dirty Sunshine Club | Thursday, August 3rd 2023 – Den Oude Ketel, Heist Op Den Berg
So, following my FOMO, I ventured out but promised myself I was just going to enjoy the show and leave lovely Polexia at home. It was no use, the music hadn’t even started yet and she came out to play! Had a nice talk with Joey (quote: ‘Jo and the Black Flamingo peeps are like family.’), ‘WhiskeyDick drummer’ Raf and then spotted Bakkie Photography. I knew then I was going to write about it anyway, so I went ahead and asked for a pre-show selfie this time. (Thinking I wouldn’t be tempted to hang out too long after the show. WRONG.)
True to my brand, I start my notes with three mentions of my top favourite instrument of 2023, the banjo!
Banjoolooooo
Special banjo with distortion
Remind me to ask him about the special banjo
Needless to say, I was already pretty excited and planted my ass smack dab in front of the stage. I managed to barely see any of the performance because I had my eyes closed from sheer delight, as can be observed in the following excerpt. (I also forgot to ask about the special banjo…)
I’m afraid I also wasn’t very diligent in my note taking. Suffice it to say the man is a musical and visual poet! His photos are like still music videos for his tunes. It all blends beautifully together. His robust yet delicate voice is a delight on this warm summer night. When he starts up the gospel tune called ‘We all fuck up’, I wrote down I found my new theme song.
Joey Henry @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – August 3rd 2023
I smile a thank you to the people shushing some loud talkers, because how can you not shut the fuck up when these melodies float into the world. And believe me, I know how hard shutting the fuck up is. But no words from me at this point. Joey mentions he’s having too much fun on the banjo to switch to the guitar and really, I ain’t complaining here!
Joey Henry @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – August 3rd 2023
He tells us to invite our ghosts here, before staring into the beautiful ballad I dream of horses, which leaves me crying for the second time centre stage at Den Oude Ketel. His lyrics are beautiful and speak to the imagination. I managed to write down a few snippets as I heard them.
Sleep baby, sleep, sing in the morning if that’s what you need from me.
Building a house for your heart and digging a basement in case you meet a human tornado.
She is like a seatbelt for my soul.
Very honourable mention to his amazing song about adventurous aviator Amelia Earhart.
Joey explains he is writing without worrying about genres, writing as a medicine for his people, to get the musical medicine back from his audience. He calls his shows group therapy and he is not wrong. I leave the show elated and so so happy I made the good bad decision of following the fear of missing out. I end my notes with another very excited ‘Banjoolooooo’ and a happy feeling to have more Joey Henry’s Dirty Sunshine Club ahead of me that month.
Huge thanks to Bakkie for another series of wonderful pictures!
Part 2: Kiel Grove an Gipsy Rufina live @ De Floeren Aap, Mechelen| Monday, September 11th 2023
This is another series about synchronicity in music and synchronicity in threes. At the end of summer I was starting to get too far away from the feeling that the synchronicitous threes, rainbows and music had evoked. I was starting to treat writing about my musical encounters like a job, when music is really a calling to me. Music is calling to me and has been this whole year. One way or another. And that’s how it should stay, so I am documenting this to help me remember. In three simple nights, I am right back to where it started in March. I feel the surge of my purpose, the burn of why this all came along my path when it did, and the love for the music and artists and all the Purple People in their entourage. With music as my spirit guide, to lead me on a new path in life. The Purple thread I follow along the road to the best version of my Self.
Because Jo had been so empathic about just how Purple he thought Gipsy was, I was pretty sure attending a second date of this tour would by no means be a waste of my time. So when I received an excited message from Ann inviting me to the shows, (Whom I’d met at the James Hunnicutt & WhiskeyDick tour back in June.) I didn’t hesitate for a second.
The fact that two very Purple people around me were pointing me simultaneously and independently in the same musical direction, was a surefire sign I was in for something special. The fact that the tour was passing through de Floeren Aap in Mechelen was an added bonus, since spending time in my home town is always a treat.
After a short bike ride on a hot summer night, I arrive at the city centre and excitedly walk over to the table where Ann is sitting with her husband David. Even though we barely had a full conversation at the James Hunnicutt shows, it feels like sitting down with old friends. We immediately get to chatting about music and fire some recommendations this way and that. Some more Purple souls called Natasha & Pablo join the company at the table and the conversation swings into an oddly fluent and fluid mix of Dutch and English, which makes me feel even more at home.
Eventually both Kiel & Gipsy also join the party before deciding who’s going to open tonight via a game of rock paper scissors. The mix of English and Dutch gets complemented by a conversation in which Gipsy speaks Italian & Pablo answers in Spanish. I feel like I’m on holiday in my own city, locked away in this hidden square right near the bustling centre of town. It’s the language of music that brings people together.
Eventually we shuffle into The Floeren Aap, to the best spot in the house, just as Kiel takes the stage first. Now, even though I was better prepared having lived through one of his sets already and was aware of what I was about to encounter, my notes still reveal a general lack of accurate terms to describe Kiel Grove. I can’t. I seriously cannot. I tried to pinpoint it in my post about his passage in The Black Flamingo, but it still doesn’t seem to do it justice. The way he sort of plays and sings his tunes is pretty damn unique.
I am again enthralled by his storytelling skills and even though I heard some of the tales before at the Flamingo, I am still just as transfixed in listening as I was just a few days ago. I’m not even going to try to retell them, you’ll just have to discover them for yourself when Kiel next crosses the ocean for a tour in these parts. I decided to capture some of the pre-song banter to give a better idea of the Kiel Grove experience. Again, the video vibe is nowhere near the real deal but it should give some impression on the spellbinding narration and wizardry on the guitar.
At this point I also want to point out that this is the 15th consecutive day these guys have been playing on their 21 day European tour. Can you imagine the general weariness you’d feel on a near month long tour of driving and playing every day in the sweltering summer heat? And it doesn’t show one bit in neither of their playing. Such is the life of the troubadour that it actually seems to only get better as the days go by. Of course, playing every day could also be seen as very good practice, which in any case really shows in the skilful way they both run through their setlists with ease.
After a break for some somewhat cooler outside air and the petting of local dogs, (Kiel is clearly missing his four legged friend on tour, but is making do with love for other people’s pets while on the road. My kinda people!) it is time for set two.
We’re in for some more Gipsy magic starring that bewitching banjo and enchanting voice. I sit there completely entranced watching him pick at his instruments, his hands a blur in the process. The spell is only broken when, between songs, I hear the voices from the terrace outside. I write down that I cannot understand how you can bear to stay outside for this. How that music doesn’t draw those people in like moths to a flame. How they seem to be able to strike up casual conversations while this is happening in the foreground.
The only cover Gipsy plays on the tour, but WHAT a discovery for me. I’m in immediate love with this song.
Maybe it’s just something in my constitution but I barely register people talking to me while this set is ongoing. Good music can never be in the background to me. Limited as my attention span may be, there is just something about good live music that seems to completely sweep me away from the perils of this mortal coil. I float in a gentle world between worlds, where my body is present in the present, but my soul is somewhere off dancing to the music and feeling its warm embrace.
Me, Natasha, Pablo & Gipsy at de Floeren Aap
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, but even when the musical instruments are put away, I’m still halfway in that magical dreamland. We grab another table at the terrace and I vaguely remember trying to voice to Kiel & Gipsy how lovely I thought the experience was. We chat some more about musical influences and horror movies that are so bad they’re good again, and I leave with a bag of recommendations I still need to check out. (After a few blurry selfies to commemorate the night of course.)
I made a plan to see them one more time on that tour, which unfortunately fell through because my body decided too much is enough. In the last part of this story, I sadly spend that night at home, resting my weary bones and mind. Thanks to the engaging conversation with Ann however, the musical synchronicity of that night would still play on. (Within this picture you can already see a hint towards part 3 of this series!)
Part 1: Gipsy Rufina and Kiel Grove live @ The Black Flamingo, Nijlen | Saturday, September 8th 2023
This is another series about synchronicity in music and synchronicity in threes. At the end of summer I was starting to get too far away from the feeling that the synchronicitous threes, rainbows and music had evoked. I was starting to treat writing about my musical encounters like a job, when music is really a calling to me. Music is calling to me and has been this whole year. One way or another. And that’s how it should stay, so I am documenting this to help me remember. In three simple nights, I am right back to where it started in March. I feel the surge of my purpose, the burn of why this all came along my path when it did, and the love for the music and artists and all the Purple People in their entourage. With music as my spirit guide, to lead me on a new path in life. The Purple thread I follow along the road to the best version of my Self.
In Part one, we find ourselves in The Black Flamingo:
As loyal readers might already know, Black Flamingo Jo and I have an uncannily similar taste in music. When he told me a few months ago I NEEDED to be at The Black Flamingo for Gipsy Rufina, I took his words as gospel, as I tend to do these days. I didn’t need to listen to the music in advance, I blindly trust Jo’s judgement in who he programs on his stage. Plus, I am loving discovering it all live before I dive into the recorded bits. He told me all about how Gipsy has been touring for nearly 20 years and how he was probably the last remaining troubadour. *TRIGGERED*
What Jo failed to mention however, was that it was to be a double bill with Kiel Grove. I get a feeling Jo likes to keep some aces up his sleeve on purpose, just to keep me on my toes. Remember how he didn’t tell me about James Hunnicutt and how well that turned out? I had a very similar experience discovering Kiel Grove. (Despite them being very different in sound and energy.) These are the kind of surprises I don’t mind on my path at all. 💜 Anyway, whereas I was already extremely excited for the night, I was yet again NOT AT ALL prepared for what was to come all the same. I’m still not sure if I can find the right words to describe these two astonishing artists, who’ve got music coursing through their very souls.
Driving up to The Black Flamingo is like arriving in a little paradise, hidden away from the big bad world. I make friends with some locals who are curious about what is going on in that shed up yonder. I get to pet their ancient dog Duck before running in, with my very Rock & Roll sitting donut in hand. One benefit of having a sore tailbone (and no longer giving a fuck if I look Rock & Roll) is that I get to throw that thing down, and go off to talk Jo’s ear off while still retaining the best seat in the house. We talk about all the music we still want to hear, some crazy musical road trip plans and all the Black Flamingo line-ups we still want to achieve.
The music draws me to my seat but alas, as it was just the soundcheck I was a little early to arrive. I get talked at by HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED. I am not sure what the opposite of Purple is, but it was clear that this person was SO out of place in this safe haven of music. I will spare you the details of the conversation, only that I was getting gradually more angry at him for being generally disgusting and not taking some very clear no’s for an answer. (Don’t worry, my great pack of Purple People protectively separated me quickly from this waste of space and it’s safe to say he shall never return.)
The first notes of Gipsy finally brought sweet relief from the sexist pig and his persistence in offering up his ‘services’. *shudder* As you can tell by the above picture, taken by Jo and graciously adorned with a very broad vignette blur, my disgust was quickly replaced by my customary ear to ear smile. The contrast in atmosphere couldn’t be more stark once I get to focus on the beautiful music.
Oh deary me. I spot a banjo and my heart starts to race. One expertly fingered strum and the sound is making everything else disappear around me. This is why we’re here. To lose ourselves in the music. Were there still other people around me? There must have been? I can no longer be sure as I close my eyes and am one with the music. “I’m going to play some banjo for you, if you don’t mind.” No, I most certainly don’t mind Gipsy, I’ve been waiting for it.
This is where I fervently draw an arrow to further on in my notes where I write “And we definitely don’t mind when you play it like that!” The sound he draws from that banjo is unreal, it’s like there’s a full band on stage. He goes crazy on his pedals and the distortion makes it sound extraordinary. He swiftly moves around every square inch of his beautiful instrument and hits every fret, chord and note like magic. I’ve seen many a banjo played expertly over the last couple of months, but this is something else. Meanwhile he brings out a harmonica and seems to be playing fifteen notes at once. It is mind-blowing, it is sensational.
And his voice? What a fucking marvellous instrument it is in its own right. It is raw, hoarse and heavy but gentle at the same time. Just how I’d imagined a troubadour to sound like. As he brings out his guitar, he starts to tell the story of Viola, a brigand who fought the pope. The story was passed on to him by his grandma, about the man who lived in the mountains 200 years ago. As Gipsy (aka Emiliano) starts to sing the song in his native Italian dialect, you can hear the indrawn breaths. For the next couple of minutes you can hear a pin drop as everyone listens completely captivated. My video does that song or the experience no justice at all. Much like my words fail to honour this experience.
Purple doesn’t BEGIN to describe it. We have to come up with another colour to define this. Maybe Terry Pratchett’s octarine, the colour of magic, comes closer in describing the aura that Gipsy Rufina exudes. I am in love with the music, the songs, the words, the songs (I wrote this down twice, this is not a typo) and that voice. I am usually a woman of many words, but this performance left me actually wordless. I pick myself up out of the puddle on the ground I have become, and venture out into the cool night air to compose myself.
I have to drag myself back in because I’m about to miss Kiel Grove’s first song. There’s something special starting here. After being absolutely mesmerised by Gipsy Rufina’s performance, I thought anything that followed would never be able to compare or hold up against that set. I couldn’t be more wrong, because here I am again just completely transfixed and blown away by the first few notes floating off the stage. They’re entirely different musicians in both style and approach, different vibes as a person, (though both very much shaded Purple) but it feels like they were made to perform in tandem.
I am trying to place Kiel in the music he resembles or triggers memories of in my head. At one point in my notes, I place him somewhere between WhiskeyDick & James Hunnicutt and I also compare his storytelling to the infamous Johnny Cash. But really, Kiel Grove is incomparable. His voice is hypnotic, drawing you in with that delightful Texas accent and that deep dark timbre with some peculiar but delicious tone inflections. I could listen to him talking and singing all night, narrating the stories that he has gathered like little treasures from life on the road. The stories and songs are sometimes nonsensical, whimsical and funny, but always intriguing and delivered with a deadpan expression.
His guitar playing is also something else. He seemingly effortlessly gets a sound from his instrument which I can’t believe can just come from one bit of wood and strings. It somehow feels like there’s an invisible band around him, adding in some resonance and background. I see ONE man with ONE guitar, but I hear the soul of so much more sound. He deftly picks and plucks his strings, tells his stories and produces something indescribable.
Seeing the total package of a Kiel Grove performance is like being thrown back in time and I feel like the sofa I’m on could just as well have been placed in the mud at Woodstock. It feels like there’s echoes from a time long past interwoven in the music, almost like it doesn’t fit in this modern time. Almost, because I absolutely welcome the anachronistic feel of the web of musical muses from the past he weaves into his songs.
After Kiel’s performance I finally found some of my words to talk to both artists and briefly compliment their sets. I have no idea what I told them because it felt like being on another planet and I still didn’t have any idea how to describe what just happened to me during those two sets. I fear I still can’t fully process it all. This is an account of events, but by no means a full one. All I know is, if I ever get a chance to see these wordsmith troubadours again, I will not hesitate one moment.
I hang around the aura of awesome and get to talking to Ronny, who is as impressed as I am about what happened tonight. Turns out he is also in a band called Promise Down, who’d also played The Black Flamingo in January. Unfortunately, I was not yet aware of that piece of promised land in Nijlen at that point in time, so I had sadly missed their show that sounded really good looking back. I make a mental note to put them on my musical radar and promise Ronny to come see them soon!
After some more catch up chats with Purple Flamingoes I finally drive home smiling like crazy, a little stupefied, and a lot drunk on (love for) music.
Luckily for me, I already have the next Gipsy & Kiel tourstop circled in my calendar, which you’ll discover soon in part 2 of this series!
Ready for part three in my love song to the Brakrock festival? It is all about the Purple People I met on my second day on festival grounds.
Before going into this festival, I hatched the plan to bring my rainbow pillow (see: Punk in Drublic where I had it signed by Spike of Me First & Fat Mike of NOFX) and have it signed by everyone I met at Brakrock because of the music. Fan, band, merch people, organiser, it didn’t matter. Everyone is part of the music. Midway through day one, I realised I would have to get a second pillow for day two. That’s how many amazing people I met. I connected with some of them, but not with all. So if you see yourself here and we’re not friends on any sort of social, hit me up!
Meet the Purple People of Saturday, August 5th 2023.
On day two I chose to use my press-privileges to get in through the crew exit and walk the grounds before the doors were actually open. This meant I had some time to kill before the bands started, so I decided to venture to the Merch village to get some much anticipated Toy Dolls merch.
Author sidenote: I had already spent too much money on band merch since March, so I had made a promise to myself I would only buy one thing. Seeing as how the Toy Dolls are one of my favourite bands and the one I had missed so many times already, I decided they were the chosen ones. I kept my promise on day one (mostly because I was too frantically running from one stage to another to even find the merch village) and then spectacularly failed to keep my promise at the start of day two.
I got a little sidetracked from my Toy Dolls-merch-mission when I spotted this poster!
1: If you read my ode(s) to The Black Flamingo and all its Purple People, you already met my friend Jo and his venue The Black Flamingo. Jo has a fridge full of stickers and a week earlier he was going over them with me, pointing to the Bearded Punk Records one and told me to check them out. 2: Braca is a band of very Purple brothers who make AMAZING music and who also hang out at that same The Black Flamingo a lot.
Meet the first Purple People of the day! The combination of my enthusiasm, sleep deprivation & and my inability to do too many things at once made me either forget to ask for, write down and/or remember their names. (Trying to A: talk to people, B: write down the stories, C: get the signature and D: get the selfie and E: try and also see the music was a little too much all at once to ask of my neurodivergent self it seems.) There’s too many names on my pillow to extrapolate the info from there, but thanks to Jo I know the person with the Bad Religion shirt is the bassist for Bram Desimpelaere & The High Hopes (possibly Koen) and the other one is Mr Bearded Punk Records who also plays bass for For I Am. (This is where I bought a Bearded Punk records top & failed to keep to my ‘one merch thing’ promise the first time.)
I have yet to discover both bands, though I have plans to see BS & THH in Herentals in September (see flyer). I missed seeing For I Am who played at Brakrock because I got sidetracked from my meticulous planning, which I will explain in a later post. But I’m sure I’ll run into them again on my synchronicitous musical path, one way or another.
This beautiful human being is Koen(raad), the Belgian superfan who was manning the Toy Dolls merch booth. His story is one I connected with a LOT as Polexia the band-aid/journalist, and he is the deepest shade of Purple. He has been a huge fan of The Toy Dolls since he first saw them in 1980. In 1993 he started following them everywhere on tour, just him and his motorbike. He stars in the biography The Toy Dolls: From Fulwell to Fukuoka as ‘the crazy fan’. He’s been doing their merch everywhere they go since 2004 and has been good friends with the band for ages. He considers them family and added that he sees them more than his actual family.
Note to bands reading this: apparently a Belgian is great to have as a merch person since they usually know a bunch of languages! I am a multilingual Belgian (Dutch, English, French with a decent understanding of German & Spanish and notions of Italian!) with a GREAT LOVE for music who is trustworthy and who is looking for a new path in life, preferably one that involves music. Just an FYI! 😉
Koen(raad) was SUPER nice, really interested in my story/blog and tried his best to get me my much hoped for selfie with the band. Alas, it was not meant to be, but I am still hopeful that one day I get to meet The Toy Dolls and loudly shout my admiration at them! Much later in the day, he did point me in the direction of this guy though:
This is Carlo, who is not so much a roadie as someone who does ‘just about anything’ (his words) for The Toys Dolls. He’s also been with them on tour for 32 years. He was super busy doing ‘just about everything’ for the band, so we didn’t have much time to talk. BUT! He made the time to take my rainbow pillow backstage and got it signed by TWO of the Three dolls. The only name I could make out was Tom ‘Tommy Goober’ Blyth, which was pretty sweet since I had loved seeing him with Me First in 2017. So I’m not sure if the other one was Olga or Duncan, but either way I am pretty stoked The Toy Dolls are a part of the rainbow pillow legacy!
This lovely person handled the lost and found. Our friend had lost his phone front stage during Me First and the Gimme Gimmes. Scouring the festival grounds at the end of day one didn’t prove to be very successful, so we hit up the lost and found on day two and LO AND BEHOLD, they had the phone. Another testament to what a GREAT festival Brakrock is, full of the Purple-est of people. Standing front stage, I saw a lot of wallets & phones pass to the front. People there are so nice and purple at Brakrock, their immediate instinct when finding stuff is to try and return it to the owners, instead of pocketing it for themselves. Faith in humanity restored!
I got distracted by something SHINY going on at the Wood Stage next door, so I didn’t note down their name, but I am still very thankful they believed us when we couldn’t prove beyond a doubt it was our friend’s phone. (We could no longer call it, since he had already blocked his sim, but we were sure it was his because of the background and the missed calls from the night before.)
These are the merch people, friends and lovers of the something SHINY on the Wood Stage. I will go into detail about the actual band, but suffice it to say The Lucky Trolls were SO great, I ran from the Wood stage back to the Merch Village to try and catch up with them for a selfie and YELL at them how great they were.
This is where I sinned against my promise of the ‘one merch item’ the second time, but I will forever treasure my lucky sweater! Had a nice chat with them, assuring them I knew they weren’t IN the band but they were also important to my story about the music and that I most definitely wanted their signature on the pillow and picture for the blog.
This is my shirt-twin Sven, half Belgian, half Dutch but full of good taste in music and bandshirts! Amyl & The Sniffers YAS! ❤
At this point in the day, I was SO overstimulated from all the AMAZING music, people and experiences, I forgot to take pictures or ask names and it’s becoming much more of a blur to piece this story together. The above picture is at the merch table for The Venomous Pinks. I think my smile here makes it abundantly clear what I thought of that band, though I plan to use many words to explain in detail later. This is the third and last time I would break my own promise about the merch. I regret NOTHING!
Front stage waiting for The Venomous Pinks, I met Boris, a Frenchie who had their own two bands, one was called ‘Stories…’ and the other ‘Rocking Bitch’. (I would link them, but I sadly can’t seem to find them on the net.) He came up to ask me what I was writing down because he had spotted me a day earlier writing industriously during both Public Serpents & Good Riddance. Sadly, I lost him to the crowd before connecting and getting the picture, but if you are reading this and know Boris who is French & has two bands and a ginger beard, connect with me!
A little while later I sat across from this person at the Jen Razavi set and I just had to get a picture because they were also front row rocking out to The Venomous Pink. Again, I was way too overstimulated to connect properly, but I feel we should be friends, so find me! 😃
Before that very same Jen Razavi set I also met with Paul, aka Zombie Teeth. Paul is a talented photographer from the UK, whose pictures I will use to liven up some of my band write ups (YES, I am ALMOST ready to talk about the actual bands and music at Brakrock!).
Not only that, but he’s also a great graphic designer and did some artwork for The Venomous Pinks, Bad Cop / Bad Cop AND he’s on the Bassists Against Racists team. That last one is a Non-Profit who release cool shirt designs featuring a specific bassist each month and donate the proceeds to charity. Fuck yea, if that isn’t purple, I don’t even know what is. We didn’t get a pic, but I’m pretty sure our paths will cross in the future and I’ll rectify the situation then! Meanwhile, check out his amazing artwork.
Last, but most certainly not least! Zoë, the youngest rock chick of the festival and biggest fan of Jen Razavi! She will definitely make another appearance in the blog about that amazing set.
THANKS SO MUCH to all the amazing people I met, talked to and admired from afar. You helped make this experience so memorable I will probably keep annoying people with stories from that one festival in 2023 for YEARS to come!
In the next part I will (finally) follow some of the Purple People towards the music! ❤
Brakrock – Kasteel ter Elst – Duffel – August 4th & 5th 2023
Ready for part two in my love song to the Brakrock festival? It is all about the Purple People I met on my first day on festival grounds.
Before going into this festival, I hatched the plan to bring my rainbow pillow (see: Punk in Drublic where I had it signed by Spike of Me First & Fat Mike of NOFX) and have it signed by everyone I met at Brakrock because of the music. Fan, band, merch people, organiser, it didn’t matter. Everyone is part of the music. Midway through day one, I realised I would have to get a second pillow for day two. That’s how many amazing people I met. I connected with some of them, but not with all. So if you see yourself here and we’re not friends on any sort of social, hit me up!
Meet the Purple People of Friday, August 4th 2023.
It already started on the road to Brakrock. We got a little lost but soon found a group of people who helped us get on track. One of them was Andrea, who came all the way from Italy. He switches between Brakrock and Punk Rock Holiday each year to get in his punk music fix during the summer. We hung out before the gates opened and had a nice chat. We’d run into him and his friends a bunch of times throughout the festival. Before Good Riddance we were waiting frontstage and there they were again! We shared a drink and some laughs and happily waited for the mayhem to start. (More on that later!)
We got in first through the gates, but had to wait a bit for security to show up. Meanwhile I spotted a bearded bro called Michael sporting a Barbie shirt in the queue so obviously I yelled at him that I loved his shirt.
Just before running onto festival grounds, he and Liz stopped me. Liz let me know that she made the shirts herself and was going to make me one. ❤ She is also in a band, seems like a bad ass with an awesome personal style, so I’m pretty sure we’ll be fast friends. Check out her instapage and give her a follow!
Walking in, I spotted a photographer and asked if I could use her pictures for the blog. She was kind enough to agree, so you’ll see some of her amazing pictures shine in a few of the coming blog posts. Follow Lad & Misfit photography on Insta & Facebook!
Next up we were at the Wood Stage for The Stitches. I spotted a guy rocking out in his mobile scooter and a lady with a walker. Wanted to take their pictures and tell them the sight of them made me happy and hopeful to know that even if my body completely gives out over the next couple of years due to my chronic pains, I’d still be able to live my best life at festivals. I didn’t get the chance because not much after I spotted this trio!
I was triggered by all the patches on the vests of Nick (left) & Thomas (middle) at first, the nice headband on Ilona second and their cupholders third. (A Brakrock gift from a few years ago, it turned out!) But when Nick turned around, I spotted something even more special: his Puzzled Panther shirt!
I knew then that I HAD to talk to him, because the only chance to get that shirt, was by seeing Gogol Bordello on their tour. Fervent readers of this blog know I was so blown away by that performance, it changed my whole outlook on life, birthed Polexia Miller and had me coin the phrase ‘Purple People’.
I kind of ignored his friends and latched on to Nick, (Sorry dear Ilona & Thomas, next time we meet I want to get to know you as well, you seemed LOVELY!) because my journalist nose sniffed a Story. Yes, with a capital S! Nick is a HUGE Gogol Bordello fan and has been following them for years. In 2008 he met his now wife at their show in Tilburg & he proposed to her on stage at a Gogol Bordello show in 2017. Since then, they’ve become friends with Eugene & were invited backstage at Jera on air where they also met up with Puzzled Panther. Nick also has a radio show called Le INIT Live on a local station in Goirle(but you can stream it online) of which the tagline does not translate do English. For the Dutch/Flemish readers it is: ‘Harde muziek & slap gelul’ 🙂
You’ll meet them again in the next bits of the blog where they immediately lead me astray from my well thought out plan. No hard feelings though, because what they led me to, led to meeting these two amazing people! (And also their band which will feature in the next post.)
This lovely green haired person is Ty Miller, guitarist extraordinaire for Public Serpents, Trying To Get By(with Jesse Sendejas from Days n Daze who stole my heart on Punk in Drublic last year. You might spot them in some of my pics because I proudly wore my DnD shirt for this occasion.) and Voice of Addiction. He’s a full time musician & caregiver to his girlfriend back home. This talk made me realise even more how important it is to support the bands by seeing the shows, buying the merch and yelling about how great they are on this blog. So many of the bands and artists I love are struggling to get by on doing what they love, following their dreams and bringing music to the people! Without them, there wouldn’t be festivals like this. So give a listen to all the above bands, like and share their stuff and go see them when you get the chance! (And don’t worry, I will spend some more words on all those bands on this blog, when I finally catch up with everything I still have to write about and find a minute to give them a proper stage.)
This super nice fella is Eric Molina who filled in for the sax player of Public Serpents. He just met them on monday and was along for the ride on their Friday gig! He’s a pupil of The Slackers’ Dave Hillyard and stars as the saxman in a few of his own bands/and does session work for: Los Mal Hablados, Mephiskapheles & the Israelites. We realise we’re missing the Slackers so our band of merry misfits skip to the Wood stage again, accompanied by Ty and Eric who also don’t want to miss that good shit!
After The Slackers & before Funeral Dress it is time to sit the fuck down and have some food. Sorry, The Dickies, I’m afraid I’ll have to catch you next time! Luckily, Emmy was on her way to see you, but I managed to get a quick pic in. We had met at the Funeral Dress gig at Parkpop Mechelen (will be featured in the Funeral Dress post) through a mutual friend. She’s also in her own band called Vettig Front who’ve been at it for years!
Time for some R&R with the people I came here with and their friends also referred to as the merry band of misfits above!
Bottom right with the sunglasses is Yannick, top right is Senna. They’re both in my favourite local band The Rabids and are set to be a part of our own as yet unnamed band we’re in the process of setting up. The one with the glasses and hat is Stijn, who we recruited as a second guitartist & backing for the same project! In the middle with the glasses you can spot Glenn & top left is Stylo.
Off to see Funeral Dress when I spot my sunglasses twin in the audience. I forgot to ask for his name or have him sign my pillow because I was losing my friends who were pushing for the front. Nice to meet you, man with The All Star Wedding Band sunglasses! See you at one of their shows!
No selfie with this man, rocking out to Funeral Dress with Emmy from before, but my infinite thanks! His name is Dyke and he got my pillow signed by the band, made sure it wasn’t ruined when it got wet and got me the setlist and a Stef Punk Pick to boot! Much obliged, sir!
I see a pair of white sunglasses and think I’m about to meet The Slackers’ Drummer. Bummer, it isn’t their drummer, but he IS in fact a drummer! How much of a crazy coincidence is that? Too big probably. My sarcasm meter wasn’t on and I noted he was a drummer for Zeeland Refinery, which isn’t in fact a band. 🙂 Oops. That’s what trying to do 100 things at once gets you. Oh well, nice to meet you anyway Da Pee & girlfriend!
Next up I am super front stage getting banged up left and right right next to the mosh pit during Good Riddance and I am in awe of this persons moveable selfie stick. I asked for his insta but regrettably forgot to hit follow so I am still yearning to see his videos and connect.
This is the security volunteer who didn’t know what hit him (probably also literally as well as figuratively) seeing the mayhem during the Good Riddance set. He’s more of a Hip Hop & House fan but said he loved the vibe of the crowd so much he’d be back next year. He put my pillow on the stage to safeguard it from being broken in the press of people and also made sure Good Riddance left their signatures! Not to mention, his anticipation to the incoming crowd surfers made sure I didn’t get hit in the face and could enjoy being in the middle of the action for once. Thank you! He’ll make another appearance in the Me First part of the blog!
These lovely chiro ladies who’d also never been to Brakrock but will be volunteering next year too!
Waiting for Me First to start, I met Joost, straight from Waddingveen Netherlands. He was there for the 3rd time, especially for The Toy Dolls. We had a lovely conversation about cheese. He’s also part of my Me First story I am saving up. We’d meet again front stage the next day, in the pouring rain, just before The Toy Dolls took the stage.
Another quick ‘I LOVE YOUR SHIRT’ encounter. I was on my way out and it was too late to follow up with actually making friends, but it’s always nice to meet a fellow upside down man. (Stranger things reference for anyone wondering WTF I am on about.)
End of day one! In part two of the Purple People of Brakrock, we meet some nice merch handlers and the youngest rock chick of the festival!
Brakrock – Kasteel ter Elst – Duffel – August 4th & 5th 2023
I am a little sad and angry. Maybe even a LOT sad and angry. How did I manage to miss this festival for ten consecutive years? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I might never forgive myself. Because holy shit, this was the best experience I’ve ever had at a festival. It was SO great; from the beautiful location, the lovely people, to the atmosphere & ambiance it was all TOP NOTCH. That mix between nature, culture and music is FANTASTIC. From now on, it’ll be an essential part of my summer.
This is the first part in what promises to be a fun series of posts about Brakrock, and it is all about the festival itself! It’s not some run of the mill thing and needs a bit of explaining. Next part will be about all the lovely people I met there. After that I will dedicate a few blog posts to all of the amazing performances and artists I got to enjoy.
1: That location!
I mean. It has everything. Green surroundings, wildlife water and culture. Brakrock is located around the ruins of Castle ter Elst, a listed monument in Duffel. Idyllic doesn’t even begin to describe it. Just look at this picture! There was shade from the trees on the first day, relief from the rain under those same trees on day two. Seeing Pennywise rock out while lounging near the river and still hearing the chirps of crickets was its own kind of magic.
Plus, because I had press access, I got to check out the pretty deer grazing and met the chickens and birds hanging out backstage. Thanks again to Kim @Brakrock for providing me with my accreditation, it meant the world to me to enjoy this beautiful festival as press. And I promise, you won’t be sorry! Cost per post is going to be pretty damn low! 😂
2: Green as fuck
Brakrock is an eco-friendly festival and I love it. They’ve been doing it since before it was the norm for festivals too! The cup for cup system was great (take notes Parkpop Mechelen & Lokerse feesten, you’re doing it wrong). You pay one token for a cup and get a new cup every new drink. No hassle, just easy eco-ness. And you get your full token back for your deposited cups. (Though I must say, I did keep a few pink cups because they’re just so sturdy and amazing to have as a memento.)
Same for food stuffs. And whereas the food was on the pricey side (as everything seems to be these days), the fries were actually really good! As opposed to other festivals I’ve been to this summer where I got yellow cardboard sticks. Good fries shouldn’t be this hard for Belgians, come on! Kudos to the food trucks.
During the festival, there were people picking up the trash that did get thrown out. But there wasn’t much, I noticed. And not many cigarette butts because they provided cigarette shaped ashtrays all over + you got a free ashtray envelope if you asked. Lovely to see the location will probably look much the same after two days of the festival as it did before. Aside from the muddy trampled grassy bits, but that’s something that should be easily remedied.
SO. Many. Great. Bands. I took the time beforehand, to write out an itinerary of what I wanted and NEEDED to see. Fortunately most of it was easily combined running from the Wood to the River and back again. I had to only make two hard choices to get a full workable list. I think next year I will add more Ruin stage bands because I let myself get sidetracked a few times and I got a pleasant surprise each time.
The annotated list after two days of running around and changing my mind
I probably also missed a bunch on the Belgian Beer Bar stage, but unfortunately choosing is losing and as a new friend said ‘you miss more at a festival than you see.’! I also had to sit out a few shows because my body was protesting all the fun I was having, but I still had a very filled timetable. And it wasn’t exactly a punishment to rest up in that lovely scenery. ❤ And I still got to enjoy things from afar.
I managed to go to all my must-see’s, knocked off a bucket list band and discovered more than a few new hyperfixations!
4. The stages!
Walking the grounds before the start of the festival.
Four totally different stages with a different feel and atmosphere. The main stage is by the River and is a big’un. Aside from the front stage area, there’s also a nice seated side area to rest up if it’s all getting to be too much, or if you want to stay out of the press of the crowd.
The Wood stage is a great experience as well. A little closer to the bands, a little lower and more accessible. Lots of shade and a few wooden resting areas for when the mud got too bad. And it’s right by the pond, overlooking the Ruins.
Then, the Ruin stage behind the castle ruins. A lot smaller for an intimate vibe. Right up in the face of the bands and artist!
At Maritiem cafe ‘t Anker, last but certainly not least, was the Belgian Beer Bar stage for intimate acoustic performances. Only managed to see one show there, but it was a doozy!
5. The organisation & volunteers
Such wonderful people, every last one of them! Everyone was so nice and just happy to be there. You will meet some of them in the next post. I want to thank everyone I encountered and hope to see you again next year. You are the backbone of this amazing festival that I will try to never miss again.
So, next up is a post about all the Purple People I met on my two day stay on festival grounds. Before going into this, I hatched the plan to bring my rainbow pillow (see: Punk in Drublic) and have it signed by everyone I met because of the music. Fan, band, merch people, organiser, I didn’t matter. Everyone is part of the music. So next up, Part 2: The people of Brakrock. And don’t worry, we’ll follow them to the music afterwards!
Brakrock – Kasteel ter Elst – Duffel – August 4th & 5th 2023
Part 1: An ode to The Black Flamingo Part 2: An ode to The (Purple) Black Flamingo people Part 3: Whiskey Dick and James Hunnicut: Live @ The Black Flamingo Part 4: Post show Purple Flamingos!
I missed seeing Whiskey Dick and James Hunnicutt perform at Muziekcafé Titanic, a day after their wonderful performance at The Black Flamingo. Sadly I would be in Amsterdam and miss another gig at this amazing place I still need to check out. I’ve heard of so many great bands playing there already. I will be led there soon, I am sure. (Don’t worry, I also had A LOT of fun in Amsterdam, first with the incomparable The Interrupters and afterwards in a pianobar. More on that later.) But no fear, there was still to be a sequel!
So, this story is going down at Den Oude Ketel in Heist-op-den-Berg, 19th of June. Fun fact, if you look that place up on Google Maps, you can see the show advertised on their window. It’s as if the Google Maps people were like ‘We have to commemorate this special event by sending out our mapping car’. I can’t say I blame them.
Now, this was my first visit to Den Oude Ketel, shamefully, because if that place was near me, I would probably live there. I was too focussed on the performances and the experience to really look around and take it all in, but I am pretty sure you’ll be finding me there more and more in the not too distant future. From the few impressions I got, it felt like a very Purple Place.
James Hunnicutt @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – June 19th 2023
Big shout out to Robin aka Bakkie Photography for being so kind as to share his pictures of the night with me. Thank you very much, I had a REALLY hard time choosing since there were so many great ones. ❤
Before we travel to Heist-op-den-Berg though, I need to tell you about the road to the show. I had been exchanging excited messages with Jo again throughout the day. I was humming ‘Don’t let teardrops fill your eyes’ ALL DAY. I had collected four jet black feathers during a long walk in my surroundings. I’m not sure why I picked them up, which I voiced out loud. Someone told me finding feathers meant someone wanted to tell me something. Okay. I didn’t put two and two together. I was too excited to see my three new favourite artists, to read into the synchronicity.
It had been a HOT day. I wanted to wear something nice, that didn’t feel too constricting. I turned over my whole closet, nothing worked and in a panic (time was running out fast) I picked some things at random, figuring I am okay with the outfit. Too hot to even care, really. I step into the car to drive myself to Heist and notice them. The feathers on my dress. Like the feathers I picked up during the day. Like the feathers between the strings in James’ guitar. (Check them out in the pic below, it’s a little blurry because the focus is on the Reverend, but you can just make them out.)
Whiskey Dick and James Hunnicutt @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – June 19th 2023
My playlist on the radio seems haunted by songs that connect me to my father. I laugh along with this fun soundtrack, that seems so specific for this drive. When I pass a cart drawn by two Belgian Draught horses (Also a shared passion!) it gets too much and I say out loud ‘Yeah dad, I hear you. I am on my way there.’ After I park, a brief struggle ensues with trying to get the electric car charged. I eventually give up and run after someone I suspect is going the way I am. He wasn’t and I am not where I need to be. Shit. I start running again, this time in the right direction. I finally located Den Oude Ketel.
I am greeted by a loud ‘Julie, you made it!’ and a hug. It takes my frazzled and heatstruck brain a while to understand what happened but I finally utter an enthusiastic hi back to Fritz. I see James and get the same genuine and excited welcome. I see all the Purple Flamingos sitting at a table, surrounding the Reverend. I do what I normally don’t EVER do, go up and hug the Reverend and even give him an awkward kiss on the cheek out of pure consternation of ‘what is my life right now’.
Later that night, the awesome Tiho would help me make sure I got this picture with all three musical magicians or magical musicians (I’m not sure which of these is the more accurate statement, so I am leaving them both.) together.
Julie plus three magical musicians or musical magicians, Fritz, James & the Reverend. (Look at me beaming through tear stained!)
My mind is melting, both from the heat and the welcome and I end up yelling to the table something along the lines of ‘HI AND I LOVE YOU GUYS BUT I NEED A DRINK I AM SO HOT WHAT IS THIS HEAT I HATE ELECTRIC CARS.’ And run in without even checking in and letting the bar people know I did pay for my ticket. A quick look around while waiting for my drink says this is a place that would be my go to bar if it was a little nearer. Den Oude Ketel has that great dive-bar energy I love, with nice people all around. I gather my manners and go say a proper hi to everyone, hydrated and ready for a great night.
James Hunnicutt @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – June 19th 2023
James Hunnicutt starts off pitch perfect as always. He claims he gathered up two to three frogs in his throat over the last few shows, but if that is how he sings with frogs in his throat, I should invest in frogs. Now, this is where I stopped taking notes. I was too transfixed to even try and put it into words right there. I was swaying on my feet, drinking in the music. All around me I saw smiles and happy people. And then the moment was there, I heard Fritz call out ‘that’s my cue’ and run to the stage. It was time for the song (and dance) I have come to love so much.
What you don’t see in this video? Me, sitting on the floor in front of the stage, filming with one hand, and dancing along with the other. The more he sings ‘don’t’, the more teardrops fill my eyes and stream down my face, past my huge smile. Now, usually, crying on the floor of a dive-bar wouldn’t exactly be a good sign mental health-wise. In this case, it is the culmination of a mourning process and I have found peace.
James Hunnicutt @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – June 19th 2023
Notice the black bird sticker on this guitar? Yeah, part of the feathery synchronicity. I could go on, superlative after superlative about how great James’ voice actually is, but much like the video I took, I don’t think my words can do it justice. You just have to experience it to know just HOW good it is. By the way, I am not sure if I already talked about his guitar playing. Because of that voice, you might forget to notice how incredibly well and with how much passion he plays the guitar. It is really a sight to see and sound to hear. This video doesn’t do it much justice, but try to hear through the awful sound quality. It’s also got a little of that lovely Fritz Hetfield/Cash bass as a cherry on top!
It is break time. Time to go back to the terrace and get a little breather in the night air that is slowly cooling. A few drops of rain bring a delightful relief from the heat. And then we spot it. A HUGE FULL RAINBOW. At 10pm. MAGIC? Yes. Tiho saves the day again by running in and bringing out the rainbow man we believe is responsible for this spectacular sight.
Another huge thank you to Jo for taking this impossible shot of me and James (rainbow tie dye shirt and feather dress included), somewhere under the rainbow in Heist-op-den-Berg. In the process of revelling at the beauty of nature, we almost missed Whiskey Dick starting their set inside. We run in, just in time for an epic time.
Again, what can I say about these men that I haven’t already. That voice, that guitar playing… It is mesmerising to the point where I barely have the words to describe it. It also made me forget how to make decent videos because all I could find on my phone was this short bit that doesn’t come close to doing them justice, but I am sharing it anyway.
Again, I was paying too much attention to the show and didn’t take that many notes. One of the few notes I have that makes any sense is ‘Fuuuuuuuuuck, that guitar‘. I also mention that I am prepared to believe the Reverend when he says that what he does with his guitar is magic. And that he’s even better than Kyle Gass from Tenacious D AND HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW IT.
The Reverend – Whiskey Dick @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – June 19th 2023
But you can tell from these above and below pictures just how much he enjoys making the music. You can practically SEE the magic coursing through his veins.
The Reverend – Whiskey Dick @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – June 19th 2023
I go on to write about Fritz that he’s the best goddamn rhythm guitar I’ve ever heard, more energetic than Jack Black, and I don’t say shit like that lightly.
The Reverend – Whiskey Dick @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography – June 19th 2023
I write to my dad: ‘Heavy metal honky tonk, who ever thought we’d have a genre that fit both of us equally’. Yeehaw, motherfucking Yeehaw man!
And somewhere in all this chaos of feelings they start to play this song. I’d heard it first in The Black Flamingo and it had the same effect on me as Teardrops by James. They wrote this song for Dimebag Darrel, but in my mind it was instantly linked to my dad and my (and our) fallen heroes in music. From Johnny Cash to Luc De Vos. My dad used to text me religiously when there was anything to do with either of those artists on tv. He understood the love for the person behind the music as much as I do.
This video is almost 20 years old, that’s about how long they have been playing together!
So they are playing this song, and exactly like in The Black Flamingo, I start crying again. Having noticed this, Tiho rushes over and I am quickly comforted by an understanding and consoling hug. The musical magic of the Purple People emphasises again that I am exactly where I need to be in space and time.
Right before the show is about to end, there is a special treat! The sound man of Den Oude Ketel takes place behind the drums and plays a song with Whiskey Dick and James who has been the honorary third member for these past few songs. Kudos to the sound man by the way, the music sounded spectacular all through the night. Having followed bands around a little, it’s not always a given that the sound is so well balanced. (Come to think of it, that’s a compliment I also have to extend to Jo and crew at The Black Flamingo because the sound is always spot on there as well.)
I will end this with the following song. Fritz was delighted so many people turned up to see them on a lousy Monday night. He told us ‘Here’s where we tell Tuesday to kick our ass.’ He was right, Tuesday did kick my ass because I left there way later than anticipated and drunk as hell on music. I have no regrets.
JAMES HUNNICUTT & WHISKEY DICK – Monday, June 19th 2023 – Den Oude Ketel, Heist Op Den Berg
Part 1: An ode to The Black Flamingo Part 2: An ode to The (Purple) Black Flamingo people Part 3: Whiskey Dick and James Hunnicut: Live
Part 4: Post show Purple Flamingos!
So the show is over, alas. But it is still coursing through me. It is now part of my blood and my genetics. (I know that’s not how genetics work, that was a hyperbole.) But I am walking on air. I totally forgot to yell at Jo. Like I could ever yell at him. I talk some more with the Ann/Mia about everything music. (I cut her off quite abruptly mid conversation when Whiskey Dick was starting. Sorrynotsorry. You get it!) And then I am suddenly next to this man.
The Reverend. My thoughts have not found the proper order in my head so I loudly proclaim something along the lines of: HELLO DO YOU KNOW HOW GREAT YOU ARE AND WHAT IS THIS MAGIC ARE YOU A WIZARD. (Yes, I have the uncanny ability to talk without punctuation when properly fired up.) He accepts the weirdass compliment, that was actually a question, with a blushing smile. He just does something he tells me. He doesn’t really know what he does, he just jams out. He didn’t have a classical background in learning music. It seems to me he doesn’t know HOW MAGICAL he is! This is not false modesty. I probably embarrass him more by doubling down on my point that they might even be better than my beloved Tenacious D. I use more superlatives, then tell him thanks for the show and turn around so other people get the chance to gush to him.
I think of how the talented people in the movie Soul go into their zone when they make music. How their talent takes over and they are one with the artform they choose. (Or which has chosen them.) I believe the Reverend has talent like that. So much so, he doesn’t even fully grasp his own gift. I am reminded of this quote by another very Purple Person.
It doesn’t stop being magic just because you know how it works.
Terry Pratchett, The Wee Free Men
I almost bump into Fritz. I go on another tirade of DO YOU KNOW YOU ARE BETTER THAN TENACIOUS D and vaguely tell him why I am there. How Jo lured me into them without me even knowing it. How they’d gone from people I’d never heard about to ONE OF MY FAVOURITE bands with just this show. He seems pleased with being the love child of Hetfield and Cash in my mind’s eye. I tell him in as few words as I can manage about my dad, the synchronicity, the Purple People and the birth of Polexia Miller. And he totally GETS all the weird rambling crazy that spills out uncoordinatedly from my mouth.
We talk some more about band ideas and personas. I tell him about something I have in the works and even though it is partly impossible for him to understand what exactly it is, he still understands and loves the gist of it. I make another mental note about Los Bastardos and how I need to hear more about it asap. Also, the 20 other bands the three men are in. I have a big back catalogue ahead of me!
And then Fritz calls in James Hunnicutt who’s being fussed over by some other fans. I tell my same story and about how I am going to write about this night and that it might (will most definitely) turn into a series. James listened transfixed to my idea about being the rock journalist and the band-aid and how my blog is just that. He is so much into the idea that he invites me along for Muddy Roots, to come as their guest and tell the story of that amazing festival in between.
He understands how me doing this because of and for the music, can also be a big help to the music, artists and festivals. Artists are almost never good at self promotion. So I yell about how great they are for them. So they don’t have to. (Also because I can’t stop it. It is an affliction. A wonderful, magical affliction, Lisa!)
Unfortunately it would later turn out Muddy Roots doesn’t share this vision for the future (Yet), so no guest-pass for me. It is probably for the best, because my body was rejecting my rock and roll lifestyle, and I’m not sure if I’d have survived a three day festival at that point. Though another of my new musical obsessions Van Tastik played a fantastic set there, I am sad to say I missed it.
But something tells me I’ll be seeing him soon. And there’s talk of a Muddy Roots trip with the Flamingo people for next year, so there is that to look forward to too! Plus, for anyone interested: Whiskey Dick and James might be coming back to The Black Flamingo next year, but I digress.
At some point I start gushing to James about his impossible voice, in much the same way as I talked about the Reverend’s guitar playing. He reacts in the same completely-oblivious-to-his-own-actual-talent way. These people are special. And they don’t even know HOW special.
After this sea of words floating from my mouth towards the musicians, returned by their encouragement and interest, I am left with three big bear hugs and a huge smile on my face. (If it wasn’t yet clear from the above photos.)
My dad is in ALL of this. He is here, in the music. In the people. They’re all so goddamn Purple. This is where I am supposed to be. This is what I am supposed to do. This is what it is all about.
Somewhere in the chaos that is this night, I get to talking to two very bearded dudes. One of them had already signalled to me with a thumbs up during the performances. ‘Listen first, talk later’, he said between songs. (My kinda person!) Afterwards he asked me if this was the first time seeing all of this. (Was it that obvious? Yes.) He had seen me fall in total love throughout the entire night. My WOO’s getting louder and longer, and tears and smiles beaming on my face. He is Rob and the other one is Papa Juice , former owner of Bacchus café, apparently one of the hotspots I have the misfortune of missing in its existence. (I think that man represents a series of blogs in itself, so I’m not even going to take that side step now!) You can hear James mentioning him in the intro to Bad Girl.
Important to know is that the one guy (Papa Juice) owned a bar and the other guy started frequenting the bar. Why, you ask? Because of the music, obviously. His daughter, who is about my age, told him to come see a gig there with her. And then dad never left. He’s seen Whiskey Dick there before and followed the music to The Black Flamingo. This story is special for so many reasons. The music, the family connection and the new start it represented to him. So unbelievably symbolic for this night and this music and this month of synchronicity that is June.
After some more talking, I discover that Papa Juice has a corvid tattoo (I forget if it was a crow or raven) and he brings in James because he has one too. And you already know of my obsession with this subspecies of bird.
And with this, I set the stage for part five and the road to Den Oude Ketel in Heist-op-den-Berg where I will meet all of the above Purple People again for the next James Hunnicutt/Whiskey Dick double bill I will attend. The road to it was both literally and figuratively littered with feathers.
Part 1: An ode to The Black Flamingo Part 2: An ode to The (Purple) Black Flamingo people Part 4: Post show Purple Flamingos! Part 5: Whiskey Dick and James Hunnicut: Live @ Den Oude Ketel
Part 3: Whiskey Dick and James Hunnicut: Live @ The Black Flamingo
Stardate, Wednesday the 14th of June. We have finally arrived at the centre of it all. It is a beautiful, hot summer day. In driving up the yellow sand road towards The Black Flamingo, it clicks I have never seen this place in the daylight. It is even nicer and more peaceful than I could ever imagine. The little chapel with the Mary statue draws my attention and drags me back in time to my childhood. My dad would have loved this and probably hung it in his backyard, as well. I don’t have much time to mull on this however, because the music pulls me into the doors.
You have to know first, Jo and I have been excitedly exchanging messages about the night. He sent me a picture of three bearded men who seem to be having a good time in the garden of The Black Flamingo.
I ask who is who in the picture, so I have a better idea what to expect for the night. Somewhere my wires got crossed and I thought I was going to see a Reverend-something (There are a lot of them in the type of music I am expecting.) as the opener and that Whiskey Dick was a James and a Fritz. I had a vague idea I was in for a good night.
I’d never heard about that Reverend, but the attempts at listening to Whiskey Dick, (While simultaneously trying to tame my hyperactive brain into writing about other music.) had proven entertaining enough. And as I said, word from Jo was good enough. He was VERY excited, so I knew it had to be GOOD. I was amply amped for Whiskey Dick. I thought I was prepared for what was coming. I settle into one of the comfortable recliners and let the notes start to wash over me.
I WAS NOT PREPARED! Not in the slightest. Because first I am totally confused about who I am seeing. That’s the Reverend! Wait, is he a Reverend? No, his name is James. Oh. Okay. Who cares about names anyway at this point. THIS IS AMAZING. I didn’t write down much, because most of the time I was just staring in awe. Funny that Jo captured this song Bad Girl when it is one of the only ones I reference in my notes. (Great minds and all that!) Listen to THIS!
I barely remember where his performance ended and Whiskey Dick’s began, because they like to get on stage with one another. So next up is a jumbled mess of two performances that intertwined so much I’m not even going to try and untangle them. So from now on we have three key players. There is James (Hunnicutt), the opening act and occasional backing vocals to Whiskey Dick. (Weird to call him that, because his voice could never (and should never) just be in the back, but we will get to that.) Then we have Fritz and the Reverend who make up Whiskey Dick. Now that I got the confusion out of the way, let’s get on with the show.
James Hunnicutt’s voice is indescribably great. At one point he praises Fritz for his great bass voice but James goes from high to low without batting an eye. The notes are crystal clear and he can hold them for impossibly long. I am sitting there, absolutely gobsmacked. Thinking of all the ways I was going to yell at Jo: HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN! Nicely, mind you. As I said, I get loud when excited.
So, THAT VOICE. But more than that, he pounds his guitar and moulds it to his words. Chords that go so deep you can almost feel it in your teeth. His string gives out, but he plays the song until the end. But it was his final song, so that’s a nice magical way of rounding up.
The audience wants more though. He gives in with a request by one of the audience members. I later find out she is a really nice lady, who breathes music and lyrics as much as I do. This is her tattoo. Her name is Ann but her alter ego is Mia. (MIA! Like Gorki. In my head at least.) She told me the whole story but I was too entranced to write it down. Look at what it says. It could be my new life motto.
She’s followed James Hunnicutt for years now. I totally understand why. The song is ‘Don’t let teardrops fill your eyes’. He starts playing it, Fritz and the Reverend do a silly dance in the back and sing along. The more he sings ‘don’t let teardrops fill your eyes’, the more teardrops fill my eyes. See for yourself.
(The dance you see happening behind James is a thing that has started during a show when he felt sad to play that song. People from the audience started dancing it behind him to make him feel better and encourage him. From then on, it has been almost mandatory to dance the dance. If that isn’t Purple as fuck, I don’t know what is.)
The nonsense in between the songs is Purple. James, Fritz and the Reverend are three friends making music and touring. They love what they do and they love doing it together. (There is talk of them actually doing it together, as Tres Bastardos, but I will go into that another time. I will find out more, but what I heard made me SQUEE with joy.) It all adds a layer to the magic. They have voices and sounds that go all through your body, to the tips of your toes. This is the kind of mindfulness I can dig. Feeling the music rush through you, both physically and emotionally. James takes a seat in the audience while Whiskey Dick takes the stage. He pets Caramel and comments on HOW GOOD his mates are.
So I already told you a bit about Fritz’ voice, so I had already settled down on that while writing my next notes. I start off by going crazy about the Reverend and his guitar playing. I address him directly: ‘Reverend, seriously, one would start believing in God seeing such virtuosity. Effortless virtuosity no less, while chain smoking and quickly putting his butt between the strings and batters away on them. This is also where I call him the silent force of the group and compare him to Kyle Gass from Tenacious D.
You must know by now I am a HUGE fan of the D. The day before The Black Flamingo show, they had played at Vorst Nationaal. I hadn’t been there and up to this point I was a little bummed out. Jo and Tiho had gone and I had been SO jealous and reliving my night with Tenacious D in my head. Let me tell you. Whiskey Dick made me forget about missing Tenacious D. Like, I’d seen that and I hated Vorst Nationaal anyway. And the energy of this band reminded me so much about what I had lived there.
At this point, I feel the need to mention that by calling the guitar picking Reverend the silent force, I am not saying Fritz isn’t completely fantastic in his own way. Because the power chords he pushes from his guitar are mental. And that voice, it’s like James Hetfield and Johnny Cash had a love baby. Actually, the music also holds vaguely in between those genres. They themselves call it Yeehaw Metal and I am here for it.
I am in love with that voice, and entranced by that guitar playing. How the fuck do you get that kind of sound out of a very normal acoustic guitar. At one point it sounds like intricate violin playing. I see the Reverend’s feet move over the pedals in front of him and am completely transfixed. I make a note to ask him after the show ‘HOW’.
I feel like I am in second grade. I remember liking my teacher so much, he always made me smile. At one point I asked him if I could stop smiling, because my face hurt. This is how I feel right now. I am in the comfortable embrace of the nice couch letting it all wash over me and wrap me like a warm blanket. A metaphorical one, because it is still really hot out. Pour one out for our fallen heroes they sing. This is life.
All good things must come to an end, so unfortunately it’s the same in this case. But they didn’t leave without going out with a bang. There is one song they haven’t played. It was especially requested for Misses Black Flamingo, who usually doesn’t attend, but who was front and centre for Whiskey Dick. The song is a cover of Purple Rain by Prince. He is one of those artists I don’t have much of an opinion about one way or the other. (Yes, that happens!) But Whiskey Dick’s rendition of the song made me a fan of Purple Rain. Not only because it has Purple in the title. It was a perfect ending to an already perfect night.
I’m not only enjoying that cover immensely through my own eyes and ears. Most of that song I am watching this scene of mother and son bonding over so many different meanings to a song. Not just what is in the words, but what it represents to them. To Tiho it is about his friend who died too young. But he is with us in spirit, because his picture is a permanent fixture on the wall of The Black Flamingo. There may be a lot of music loving spirits here.
It is the end of the show but not the end of the night because I still have yet to meet these three amazing human specimens. And some other class act people.
But I’ll have to keep that for Part four: Post-show Purple People. Because there is still so much story to tell.
JAMES HUNNICUTT & WHISKEY DICK – Wednesday, June 14th 2023 – The Black Flamingo, Nijlen
Part 1: An ode to The Black Flamingo Part 2: An ode to The (Purple) Black Flamingo people Part 3: WhiskeyDick and James Hunnicut: Live Part 4: Post show Purple Flamingos! Part 5: Whiskey Dick and James Hunnicut: Live @ Den Oude Ketel
Part 2: An ode to The (Purple) Black Flamingo people
At this point in the story, we’re hanging out post Clyde McGee/pre Pete Bernhard in the lovely sunny garden of Tequila Tattoos. The two little doggos that hang out there flit from person to person, demanding pets everywhere. That’s how we get to talking to Mister Black Flamingo himself, we’ll call him Jo, because that’s his name and also very much shorter than writing Mister Black Flamingo himself. He’s accompanied by his son Tihomir (what a fucking BAD ASS name, by the way!) and since we’re all animal lovers, we bond instantly over the nice dogs.
I took a while before I realised who I was actually talking to. (That happens a lot more to me than you would think, especially when there are animals nearby.) When I realised he was the owner of THE BEST PLACE IN THE WORLD, I suddenly remembered I used to do this thing called writing. Like in general, but also more recently, specifically about music. I tell Jo that I would love to write a piece on the best hidden venue in the world and start telling him what kind of articles I already wrote. “Yeah, I did this bit on Amanda Palmer and also this photo thing on The Dresden Dolls”, full-on expecting the only half interested “who?” I usually get it when I tell people about my idols hyperfixations. But, get this. He not only knew of them, but he really liked them.
So in true Julie style, I start bombarding him with questions and recommendations and I go into full hyperfixation mode. If I hadn’t already lost my audience at the “who?“, this is where the rest usually take off. But not in this case. I had found my match, someone who is as hyper-fixated on music as I am. It wasn’t the longest of talks because we had to cut it short for the Pete gig and after that I got distracted by the whole setlist thing.
When I got home, I sent him the link to Amanda’s solo gig in New Zealand which felt so much like the one I wrote about in Antwerp. As you can maybe tell by the above, my self esteem was apparently so low, I wasn’t expecting much of a reaction. But then. He responded in exactly the way I would have. He GOT it. And we haven’t stopped messaging since. Whatever kind of crazy theory, idea or brain fart I throw at him, he just simply gets and runs with it.
Him, and his band of merry vagabonds at The Black Flamingo, might be just as much the instigator to my Purple People vision as that specific song by Gogol Bordello is. A lot of the synchronicities I talked (and will talk) about between the first Pete Bernhard gig and today have also been related to the music, The Black Flamingo as a safe space and all the people surrounding it, and Jo and his son Tihomir in specific.
The synchronicity in threes has not stopped since. Jo sees them everywhere now too, much like the Purple People. I am infectious! I start the Pete, me and The Devil Makes Three series off with a reference to a certain black flamingo with pink on the inside and me as a pink flamingo who is black on the inside. Turns out we’re both just different shades of purple.
Also birds. (Another hyperfixation of mine, go figure!) Lots of synchronicities with birds and feathers. Not just flamingos; black, purple or otherwise! Like the Crane, which I use for a nickname since my name is Van Craen. Turns out Jo has a taxidermy Crane. The road to WhiskeyDick and James Hunnicut was also littered (both literally and figuratively) with them (feathers, not cranes, thankfully), but I will get to that in one of their parts of this series.
I genuinely believe that I missed that first The Rabids gig for a reason. I feel like I needed to discover The Black Flamingo exactly when I did. A bit earlier and I might have missed the magic and the synchronicity. Life had knocked me out. I was battling my inner demons when my dad first suffered and then died. Nothing made me happy or hopeful. The world was too dark to see the pin pricks of light. Another thing I feel deeply (Not necessarily believe, but FEEL, so I chose to believe in it.) is how my dad had a hand in getting me there. It was all so intrinsically linked to each other with so many weird and wonderful signs and timings, it has been a helping thought in healing.
Nothing wrong with your brain…just a little bit jumpy I guess 😁
Jo
So what I have found here is a place full of people where I don’t have to pretend to be normal, because normal is boring. They see the passion behind the awkward and clumsy and are fully passionate about something too. They see the Purple. They ARE the Purple. I give a crazy band idea and everyone is in for it. (To be continued!) I blurt out all the wrong words in the wrong order and they understand the meaning behind the uttered words. When I am worried if my crazy theories and stories on here are even remotely understandable to read, I get a message that tells me they are.
In discovering new friends at The Black Flamingo, I found enough light in the dark to start up my old blog again, and then in turn synchronicitously getting back in touch with all the people I forgot I counted as friends. Music is one of them, but I also mean some actual Purple People in my life which have resurfaced. So for them, but also for all the people struggling with depression or burnout or whatever you (want to) call it. You see enemies everywhere, but that’s only because you are looking through the wrong glasses.
In the words of The Rabids:
AND YOU SEE ENEMIES EVERYWHERE FEEL LIKE YOU DON’T BELONG ANYWHERE YOU FEEL ABANDONED BUT YOUR PEOPLE ARE STILL THERE DON’T TELL YOURSELF THAT THEY DON’T CARE
The Rabids- Enemies Everywhere
And while simultaneously giving me LOADS to write about, Jo and The Black Flamingo, and everything that happened in the wake of my first visit there, gave me the actual confidence to find and use my voice again. So I started writing, writing and writing and I have barely stopped since. Meanwhile, Jo is always one of the first ones to read and like my blog. Better yet, he even started his own blog about music. While you wait for part three in the series, in which I ACTUALLY see the band for the first time and talk about their music, you can go read his The Blog Flamingo!
Beware though, you might also go down the rabbit hole of hyperfixation on music, because I can’t believe some of the things he recommends to me. Like, I can’t believe they haven’t been in my life until now and HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED THIS!
Like this guy. Wait for the voice. My immediate thought was ‘My dad would have loved this!’
So when this man tells me to not forget to come check out WhiskeyDick at The Black Flamingo, I say YES. Even though I have no idea who they are and bad imagery in my brain links them to about the complete opposite of what they turn out to be. Even though I barely have the time to even think about listening to them since it seems there’s a show every day. So I say fuck it, and just go.
PS: There is a ridiculous lack of photos in this post. It’s the music’s fault. See, I went there last Saturday in my Flamingo-est of outfits, fully prepared to take just one pic with Jo and Tiho and some internal shots of the place. I was NOT going to write about the bands there, I didn’t CARE HOW GOOD THEY WERE. I was there with a purpose. To enjoy the music and to get some pictures and hang out with nice people. About Three seconds into Kevlar, I was writing merrily away in my notes, and though I did notice SO MANY things to photograph for this post, I just simply forgot.
So one day, I will add photos. Or make the photos into another thread of this series, who knows. There’s also talk of a blog dedicated to all the animals at The Black Flamingo, I heard. (Where, who told you that?) But for the next few posts, this series will finally talk all about WhiskeyDick, James Hunnicutt and why the fuck they are so special. (And all of the synchronicities in between. And more of the Purple People.)
Onto part 3: Wherein WhiskeyDick and James Hunnicutt rock The Black Flamingo and leave me unexpectedly crying.
Part 2: An ode to The (Purple) Black Flamingo people Part 3: WhiskeyDick and James Hunnicut: Live Part 4: Post show Purple Flamingos! Part 5: Whiskey Dick and James Hunnicut: Live @ Den Oude Ketel
Yes, you read that title right. This is a series about a band and their opening act, but in this specific post I will not mention much of either. I am pretty sure they will understand. (I will sing their praises loudly and proudly later, don’t you worry!) But this story begins somewhere in March, long before their actual gigs in June. Long before I had even heard of these three men. (Three! It is ALL connected.) The story of The Black Flamingo and its people (and amazing animal friends) is too integral to the story of the music. And moreover, too integral to the story of me and of DownSideUp.
It all began with an invitation to see Static. ‘It’s in this little place in Nijlen, you will love it there!’ Here’s the band at rehearsals in that very same place! (They are the artists in residence, yessiree Bob!)
I remember hearing good things after their (and my) friends of The Rabids played there in August. Unfortunately I couldn’t attend that gig, but fortunately they made me a video! (And I have had the pleasure of seeing them play at The Black Flamingo since this all started.)
So, two months after sticking my toe in to feel the water at Trix with Amyl and The Sniffers (who also got their very own three parter), I venture out to see live music again. As you can read in that post, the timing of the Amyl and The Sniffers gig had been horrible. I did not feel like going out. I couldn’t give two fucks about music at that point. But that band sparked something in me, kickstarting me for the night everything changed and the light went on again. I wasn’t sure about going out to see Static that day, but because I really like them and was curious what all the fuss about The Black Flamingo was about, I reluctantly ventured out.
I now note, trying to track down all the dates, that I unknowingly crashed Jo’s Birthday Bash! (Happy belated birthday Jo, I’ll try to do better next year when I actually already know you before crashing the party.) Anyway, I had a great time. I talk to a few people I haven’t talked to much before and discover there is a BAR CAT.
Not just any bar cat, meet the beautiful and cuddly ball of fur that is Caramel. (LOOK AT THOSE PAWS.) She loves live music (unless it gets too loud *cough*Static*cough*) and milk creamer from a fancy plate. Anyone that knows me, knows I have now fallen in love with this place the second I laid eyes on her. There is music, nice people AND a cat? And the nice man behind the bar gave me a creamer to give the cat. I mean. That’s like my perfect night out, can I get a season pass please?
So as you can tell by the above video, Static was really nailing it as well. The night was a success. Not a mind blowing success yet, but at least I had something resembling fun. It got me into gear again and I went to a few more shows before finally driving back on the yellow sand road towards The Black Flamingo at the end of March. I had been told some Pete guy would play there. You know, from The Devil Makes Three. Had you told me then about the ride that one night would take me on, I would not have believed you.
Julie and Caramel the cat bonding before or after The Rabids gig.
As you can tell from my three part love song, I pretty much fell in love with music again that night. I realised music needed to be a big part of my life again. And that I needed to hold it there, because it is such an important puzzle piece to surviving in a world that is not made for me. Music and animals are my only two off-switches. Without them, my head is constantly on high volume. I need loud music or purring to achieve silence in my head, something like that.
We already had tickets for The Devil Makes Three in June but I decided to go see Pete at Tequila Tattoos about a week later. (Still kicking myself for missing the Titanic gig. I had no excuse!) It is there that I finally meet mister Black Flamingo himself. But that story is for part two. Yup, just decided The Black Flamingo gets TWO parts in a series about a band and their opener. It is just that great a place. And I promise it is connected. I believe wholeheartedly that James, Fritz and the Reverend will understand why I have to write this all down before I can get to their bit.
Let’s just conclude I have found my new happy spot and my newest favourite venue of all time. It’s not open to the public (yet), but I’m sure if you ask nicely, someone could let you know how to find that beautiful yellow sand road, that leads to a place of happiness, good people and fucking great music.
And I’m pretty sure that one day a band like Nirvana will only have played at The Black Flamingo before hitting it big. And then everyone is going to claim they were at that show that had only twenty to fifty people in the audience. And I will know which people were actually there. Because the people around The Black Flamingo have a different shade of Purple. It nears black, but holds all of the pinks inside!
I leave you with The Rabids with Clarity at The Black Flamingo. For your viewing and listening pleasure, while you wait anxiously for part two in the series. More ode to The Black Flamingo and its people incoming!
So, I have been hinting at this so-called review in a fewpostsnow. I labelled it a concert review, but it has turned into so much more than that. It’s an ode to music, punk spirit, Purple People and community. My notes started off in Dutch, but then quickly veered into English because of all of the people who touched the experience. (I’m sorry if this is confusing, but this is just how my mind works.)
Plus there’s another part to Gogol Bordello that isn’t even about the music or the people but is highly relevant in the world right now. By this I mean their activism and support for Ukraine. (I will definitely touch on that , but will have to expand on that subject in yet another post because there is just SO much to tell).So in saying all this, English makes my little voice louder, and that can amplify their message too. So there. Another three parter. Plus a Fourth. Which will really be the Fifth. (Hey, did I just declare a triology in five parts. Speaking of kindred spirits, I mean!)
It was done. Gogol Bordello has left the stage. I am left behind very fulfilled, wandering around smiling a bit, before checking out my coat and finding the merch stand. I had already decided on the t-shirt I was going to get while waiting before the show. (Sadly I have yet to wear ANY of my merch since June was so FUCKING HOT. But it’s fine, new threads for Autumn, when my body can handle sleeves again!)
I quickly tell my preference to the lovely lady behind the stand and note Eugene walking back there. Sadly he is on his way backstage again, probably completely knackered after such an energetic show. No matter, I had been lucky enough as it was in the last week and months, I wasn’t planning on making band friends that night. I also add one of their lovely (and super practical) totes to my purchase, after seeing the proceeds go to support Ukraine.
Sergey Ryabtsev and Julie
I turn around and who do I bump into but Sergey Ryabtsev aka mister electric violin himself! I manage to get him to sign my bag in pink sharpie, (Yes, I might never use this beautiful, practical bag again for irrational fear of it washing off. I will still very much enjoy and cherish it.) and have a quick picture taken. After ‘smoothly’ blurting out how much I loved the show and his playing in particular, I leave him to enjoy his after-show breather.
On my way out the door, I suddenly decide to turn back. During the show, the opener Puzzled Panther came on stage for one of the songs, and it just registered in my brain that they were the lovely ladies behind the merch. I venture over there and swiftly bond with Victoria Espinoza and Kay Buontempo who hail from NYC and have just been picked up by Gogol Bordello’s label.
Improvised photoshoot with Kay and Victoria of Puzzled Panther and Julie
I tell them how sorry I am to have missed two seemingly bad ass women on stage and promise to listen to their music. As is usual with Purple People, they aren’t mad I missed their show, but really enthusiastic to tell me all about it. At this point, there haven’t yet been any releases, (that I am aware of, correct me if I am wrong in the comments!) but I am anxiously waiting to tell you about it when they do release something!
What I did find was this lovely excerpt from a live show they did with two of their songs. I’ve also seen bits and pieces on the Puzzled Panther Instagram as well, so give them a follow and wait with me to add them to all the playlists!
Dumb European as I am, I comment to Kay: ‘Oh, you’re from NYC, like all cool merch people I meet. Do you know Joey Steel and Van Tastik?’ Of course she doesn’t, because one isn’t even from NYC (Van Tastik, he lived in the NY area but has since moved all over and now lives in the Netherlands) and NYC itself has a population nearly the size of Belgium, but I just get so excited.
Like I didn’t already think there had been too many weird coincidences that week, Kay drops the bomb on me when subsequently asking me if I normally speak French because I have a French accent in my English. The same question one of those broad NY area merch people, Fallen Reverend Van Tastik, had asked me not two days earlier. Feeling like this is synchronicity nudging me along, I end up buying a Puzzled Panther shirt as well. I thank these amazing Purple People, tell them I will write about their music and almost hop skip out of de Roma, drunk on music and life yet again. It is right then and there that the idea to Polexia Miller is born. I will write my own Almost Famous story. Let’s see how this ends! But first, read on about how it starts!
At this point, I am floating on clouds through the streets of Antwerp, back to the car that had eventually been parked about a half an hour walk out. It is a nice night and as soon as we leave the Turnhoutsebaan, it gets pretty quiet and we don’t see any passersby. A few silent streets into our journey I hear some English from a street corner and turn my head. I turn back. I do a double take. This CANNOT be. It is the three Brits I lost between the encores. This is Polexia’s time to shine!
Let’s finish what we barely started here. I begin an on the road type interview and try to take as many notes as I can. (I fail miserably to write anything down coherently, but I still got the gist of it all. Note to self, use recorder.) I ask them if it’s their first time in Belgium, which as it turns out, it is. Not only that, but they hadn’t really thought about a visit and had just followed Gogol Bordello because they rocked their socks off. They saw them a week earlier at Slam Dunk Festival in Leeds(For all that is holy, look at that line-up. I need to incorporate festival vacations!)
They came back from the festival, went on a leisurely trip to their friends in Normandy to eventually end up in Belgium for the show. It had been a good but also very rough week on them since they told me they had been drinking since the previous Wednesday. (The night this takes place is Friday in case anyone wants to do the math.) Though the conversation and information is a scattered chaos at best, I must say they hold their drink well. (I would have toppled over somewhere on the first Thursday probably.) And I thrive on chaos, so this is my ‘normal’ and I am enjoying every minute of our half hour walk. Because yes, they need to be in almost the same place as we do, because the universe has made it so.
As a beer loving Belgian, I can’t help but ask how they’re liking our beers since their version of Stella is watered down. The poetic words ‘I wouldn’t poke Stella with the dick of an enemy’ were followed by the second ode to Pimm’s I had heard in ever. (Apparently it is like the nectar of the gods. So much so that when The Rabids played the coronation party at the British store Stonemanor, they ran out and there was a public outcry. Which was then followed by the first ode to Pimm’s by an amazing British woman I still need to tell you about. Anyway.)
A great tit sits at the top of a pine tree – Lasse Nystedt
A lot of other amusing profanities are thrown around that I won’t repeat here, because some things are better off the record. Speaking of record. That part I forgot, to take an actual picture of the guys. At some point I had tried to shoot a video of their rendition of ‘Start wearing orange’. (My incapacity to do three things as well made me fail this miserably.) Well, Ian and Toby’s rendition. Tim mentioned that they had been changing the word Purple for whatever they could find the whole trip and it had been bugging him to bits.
Then, out of nowhere they give up on the Gogol and go straight for MMMbop. (Read here why that song/band is so important to me.) In my confusion (also, I was trying to cross a street and not get run over) I missed filming it. Lucky for me they pretend-believed me when I said my camera was off. If only for 15 glorious seconds.
Tim, Ian, Toby (and also deceased asshole cat Ralph), it was a pleasure meeting you and I hope to see you on my musical travels again! Have fun going viral, maybe!
Looks like we made it to the end! There will still be a part four, about the Gogol Activism, but I have another live music story to tell that needs to come first. I am not yet sure how many parts it will contain, but it is also FILLED TO THE BRIM with the Purpleest of Purple People.
GOGOL BORDELLO – Saturday June 3rd 2023, De Roma Antwerpen
So, I have been hinting at this so-called review in a fewpostsnow. I labelled it a concert review, but it has turned into so much more than that. It’s an ode to music, punk spirit, Purple People and community. My notes started off in Dutch, but then quickly veered into English because of all of the people who touched the experience. (I’m sorry if this is confusing, but this is just how my mind works.)
Plus there’s another part to Gogol Bordello that isn’t even about the music or the people but is highly relevant in the world right now. By this I mean their activism and support for Ukraine. (I will definitely touch on that , but will have to expand on that subject in yet another post because there is just SO much to tell).So in saying all this, English makes my little voice louder, and that can amplify their message too. So there. Another three parter. Plus a Fourth. Which will really be the Fifth. (Hey, did I just declare a triology in five parts. Speaking of kindred spirits, I mean!)
I had made it in time. The show was about to start. To contain myself, I start typing basic notes. As usually happens when seeing bands, I discover they made new music since I got to know them. (I am very lax in following up on things that are not hyperfixations. That does not mean I love something less, it just means it hasn’t seared itself into my brain yet for some reason.)
Always good to see new music! Solidaritine is the full studio album from 2022. Even better to see is that, in true punk spirit, it is not just a collection of nice sounding notes and chords to dance to. It is a rebellion to the Russo-Ukraine War, taken on tour even as far as the actual frontline. (That’s that WHOLE other blogpost I was talking about. I am not going to go in it, because by now you must be sick of me bait-and-switching you. Just be aware at this point, new music exists. I feel I have to mention this fact on my honour as a journalist, because I will not be able to be neutral when I go on.)
I quickly rush over to the bar to get hydrated before dancing my ass off, but to no avail. The line is too slow and the first tones of Gogol Bordello are sounding out. Oh well, I follow the music, skipping into the beautiful hall that is de Roma and I am instantly smiling.
The energy is purple today. Gogol Bordello radiates something unique from off of that stage. A vibrant life energy, as strong as the sun. You are drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Rhythmically moving your body to the tones, as if controlled like a puppet on a string. It takes you over. Their unique sound, their full-on enthusiasm, mixed in with what looks like absolute chaos. That’s the way I like my music! It is exhilarating. It breathes life into a whole room full of people who are transfixed in happiness. It is a sight for sore eyes.
Gogol Bordello @ De Roma | Photo : Mathias Verschueren – June 3rd 2023
It’s just an instant party from note one, is what I am saying. We are all the Purple People here and you can’t help but feel a part of something bigger. Unlike most Belgian crowds, this one dances and screams with joy. It’s all that purple, it bleeds out.
Meanwhile, the interval workout my Fitbit is telling me I am in, is wearing me out. These guys play no slow songs, I really have to work on my cardio for next time. But it’s all good, I have some notes to take to try and explain what is going on and why I am so ecstatic here.
A lot of my notes are about beautiful instruments again. Firstly I notice the gorgeous seafoam green archtop (not resonator) guitar that singer Eugene is handling. Then I go on to mention the electrical violin with a resolute ‘fuck yeah’ behind it. I am impressed by a solo the violinist Sergey was playing which I wrote down was a painful song that reminded me of El Tango de Roxanne from Moulin Rouge. (A huge plus in my book, I cannot tell you how much I love that movie and that soundtrack.)
I also get pretty excited about the ‘fucking accordeon lady, yeah’ further on in my notes. I also note she strapped a giant drum to herself and banged her heart out. Unfortunately, I was too far off to see who I was mentioning and my pictures are not helping. I also wrote ‘see X rocking the Banjo‘ but also have no photographic proof of banjos on stage to reference the great X. I am sorry for not being able to name these, clearly amazing, musicians. YOU ROCK so much I have no way of finding out who to shout this at!
Gogol Bordello @ De Roma | Photo : Mathias Verschueren – June 3rd 2023
There’s nine people on the stage dancing around the fire. The lung capacity of Eugene is impressive, how he can sing, jump and bellow out the words is an impressive feat to witness. This band has the same breaking-down-the-house energy as SONS did in this very same room. No wonder I had to be reminded of them pre-show. When the band is just as drenched in sweat as their audience you know it’s a good show. Insert teaser pic from the last post:
During-show-selfie up the top of the stairs at de Roma. Sweating and smiling. (THE sign of good music!)
The best mosh pit breaks out, people are surfing across the heads like there’s no tomorrow, so I run upstairs to the balcony to get a better look. I stop to take above selfie of my happy face and head in. What an amazing aerial view of the party of bobbing heads and bodies below! I sit myself down, (mostly because a nice man asked me to get out of the aisle, but happy to grant my body a little much needed rest.) and enjoy a few more songs like this. Excuse this crappy video quality below, but it serves to just to give you an idea of the mayhem and beauty of it all.
Then I hear it. I get up and thrust my Roma Feestbier in the hands of my compatriot. (Literal HOLD MY BEER moment.) I run up the aisle and see a like minded spirit doing the same. I call her out: ‘we have the same idea, you’re doing exactly the same thing’. We smile broadly, both rush downstairs and start dancing to ‘Start wearing Purple’. I dance so fast as to blur the reds and blues of my dress into pure purple. I lose her in the crowd. Besties for life, still, nameless person. ❤
There’s a little lull in the music. Is it over? A break? Someone saw that I was unsuccessfully trying to Soundhound a song, and comes over to help me out. (Somewhere in the dancing confusion, I lost track of where I was in my notes, so I had to go full on investigative journalist on myself to find out what song I was even referencing. Turns out it was the song I compared to El Tango de Roxanne earlier and is an Angelic Upstarts cover called Solidarity.)
Alright, thanks again Joris from Ruddervoorde for helping me out. I asked him if he’d ever seen a Belgian audience go wild like that and if he had danced himself. And he agreed he hadn’t yet seen that level of enthusiasm and he’d danced himself. He is a big fan and his last time at de Roma had also been for Gogol Bordello. The encore starts up and we lose eachother in the sea of happy, sweaty people.
More hopping around ensues and I keep stepping on my dress that is really too long for this. It’s all good and well. (I notice my preferred personal space circle gets a lot smaller in a happy dancing crowd, oddly enough. I don’t even mind the people bumping into me or getting drinks poured over me (usually). It’s just what happens when we’re having fun.) Gogol Bordello keep on playing encore after encore. This band is indestructible!
So many encores already, that in another lull between encores I think they can’t possibly play anymore, so I strike up another conversation with some people near me. Turns out they can’t help me with my ‘enthusiastic dancing Belgians’ question since they’re British. They do confide in me that they were dancing like crazy because of the band and the beer.
I almost follow them out for their smoko, but decide against it when I hear some more music blasting off the stage. No way I am missing even a second of this party. Bye unknown strangers, no way I’ll ever find you in the crowd after the show to finish this story. (Spoiler for part three: I DO find them, in the most unlikely of places and they serenade me with MMMbop. Proof incoming.)
In short. Gogol Bordello is life. The music and the musicians are amazing and wild. The crowd is a joy to be a part of. It’s not just a show. You make friends here. It’s a place to just enjoy life. It’s a world of its own. Full of purple people. Full of hope.
The end of part two. Part Three will contain all after show events. Which includes:
The lovely ladies of Puzzled Panther, the opener I sadly missed!
A meet and greet with violinist Sergey.
A chance encounter with three Brits, long thought lost.
Huge thanks (again) to de Roma for the beautiful professional shots I get to use. Featured image in this post also by Mathias, as shown in part one-ish.
Huisfotograaf Mathias Verschueren en Jef: <3!
GOGOL BORDELLO – Saturday June 3rd 2023, De Roma Antwerpen
Deze reportage in drie delen is iets waar ik al even op broed. Ergens tussen de zeven en twee maanden ofzo. Ik moest er eerst iets anders uitkrijgen voor het allemaal een logisch gevolg van elkaar werd. En natuurlijk wachten op het laatste deel uit de trilogie voor ik ze kon schrijven.
Geniet van deel een, op een van mijn meest favoriete plekken van de wereld. De rest van het verhaal? Hier zijn Deel 2 en Deel 3.
Deel 1: Pete Bernhard, eerste Europese solo tour FIRST STOP: The Black Flamingo, Nijlen – 24 maart 2023
Sugar Cane – Live @ Black Flamingo
Het begon allemaal met een zwarte flamingo met een roze binnenkant. (Ik ben zelf een roze flamingo met een diepzwarte binnenkant, dus wij komen goed overeen.) De underground & goed verscholen private music venue The Black Flamingo is niet te omschrijven in een kort paragraafje. Binnenkort lees je hier een epos van liefdevolle woorden, eens ik ze samengeraapt krijg.
Disclaimer: De synchroniciteit van het cijfer drie in deze post is HOOG. Het gebruik van de term synchroniciteit trouwens ook.
Het was maart en de donkere wolken boven mijn hoofd begonnen eindelijk een beetje te vervagen. Tijd om me terug volledig op muziektherapie te gooien nu mijn energieniveau het weer aankon. Afspraak in de verborgen parel van Nijlen, voor de allereerste solo tour in Europa door Pete Bernhard van The Devil Makes Three.
Wat was het mooi. Wat ben ik verliefd op zijn gitaargeluid en zijn stem. Wat maakte het me emotioneel en nostalgisch. Hoe graag had ons vader dit gehoord! Tijdens de doodse muziekstilte in 2020 bracht hij Harmony Ascension Division uit, zijn derde solo plaat na Straight line (2009) en Things I left Behind (2006). Het is de soort Americana die je bij je hart grijpt en opwarmt. Gooi daar een paar goed gemikte covers tussen en je hebt een avond vol geweldige muziek.
De brede smile hieronder vertelt de rest!
De traditie van de post-show selfie zet zich verder. Wist ik toen veel wat er nog ging komen. Check de Pete Bernhard bandana, awkwardly placed op mijn eierhoofdje. (Kan je Merch-aankopen trouwens als onkosten inbrengen als rockjournalist? Asking for a friend.) Bovenaan de post bewonder je trouwens de setlist, met aanduiding van het enige nummer dat hij niet speelde.
Goed, spijtig genoeg, tijd om te gaan! Niet lang wachten, want binnen twee weken zien we hem alweer Live in Hulshout. Wordt vervolgd in deel 2!
We vertrekken. WACHT! *Springt uit auto om deze wazige foto te maken* Deze boodschap komt niet voor niets vandaag op mijn pad.
DownSideUp 