Authorโs note: Iโm mostly going to let the videos speak for themselves this time. (Mostly.) Enjoy.
Joey Henryโs Dirty Sunshine Club | Saturday, August 12th 2023 โ The Black Flamingo, Nijlen
Somewhere in the lush green fields of Nijlen lies the yellow sand road leading to The Black Flamingo. This ainโt Kansas anymore, but a welcome home away from home to puddle photographer & poet Joey Henry. Itโs been little over a week since he passed through Heist-op-den-Berg and Iโm 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 itโs just me and the music. The first notes hit home like nothing else. The approving murmurings reveal weโre 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 itโs nothing. Heโs 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 itโs 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 thereโs a theremin mixed into it all.ย
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 doesnโt 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 youโs 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 hadnโt been enough, Joey invites local band Bracaโs 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. Thereโs 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 havenโt had the time to find the right words to describe the two nights I spent with him and his music.
Letโs just say that aside from being an immensely talented musician, heโs 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 Henryโs 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 โ 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.ย
Joey Henryโs Dirty Sunshine Club | Thursday, August 3rd 2023 โ 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 hadnโt even started yet and she came out to play! Had a nice talk with Joey (quote: โJo and the Black Flamingo peeps are like family.โ), ‘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 wouldnโt 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 distortionย
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.ย (I also forgot to ask about the special banjo…)
Iโm afraid I also wasnโt 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 โWe all fuck upโ, I wrote down I found my new theme song.ย
Joey Henry @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography โ 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 heโs having too much fun on the banjo to switch to the guitar and really, I ainโt complaining here!ย
Joey Henry @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography โ 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.ย
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 โBanjooloooooโ and a happy feeling to have more Joey Henryโs Dirty Sunshine Club ahead of me that month.
Huge thanks to Bakkie for another series of wonderful pictures!ย
September 22nd had been excitedly marked in my calendar since April, when I saw Clyde McGee open for Pete Bernhard. As with Pete, I knew the band by music, but not the individual members, so I only found out Clyde was one of The Bridge City Sinners on that fateful day in Hulshout. He told me about the Sinnersโ European tour in September and October and I was BEYOND stoked to see a Belgian date. I was even more thrilled to be able to share this experience with my newfound friends Iโd acquired through the synchronicity of music since his solo performance.ย
I was planning on taking an entire day to get ready, dolled up and taking my sweet time going to Ghent. Afterwards driving on to the Belgian coast for a much needed holiday. Alas, fate decided otherwise as an unforeseen and also unmissable event was planned on the same day. My stress level was through the roof in the weeks and days beforehand trying to get my head around a literal (no, really!) rollercoaster of a day into a night where I had to drive myself to a city I didnโt know very well. Let me tell ya, all that stress was so fucking unfounded, when I think back on it now it is almost amusing.
The day of started earlier than usual and I faced fears I had talked myself into over the years. I used to be brave and fearless, but over the last years depression and battle with neurodivergence had made me small. Small and afraid of EVERYTHING. Doubting I could do ANYTHING. The day was a therapy group outing to an amusement park and to say I was DREADING all of it would be the understatement of the century. Luckily, therapy is teaching me how to face my fears head on. So I did. In line for the first roller coaster, I was hopping from one leg to another, thoughts racing this way and that. I eventually decided to just get over it and DO it, and got on the fucking roller coaster. It was scary at first, but then it was EXHILARATING! After that, I still felt a little trepidation getting on a new coaster, but by the end of the day I was unstoppable. I had faced my fears and WON, telling my brain to shut the fuck up and it actually shutting the fuck up. I had an AMAZING day and was living on adrenaline alone.
In getting home, the adrenaline unfortunately wore off and I was tired from all the mental and physical gymnastics of the day. So getting ready for the show felt like I was moving in slow motion while getting anxious again for the drive through traffic and rain, on a road I was not familiar with, in a time frame that would mean I would almost definitely miss the opener. I was sad but resigned to the fact that I wouldnโt get the full experience of this night I had been looking forward to for almost 6 months.
I managed to get my ass on the road eventually and powered through those fears to eventually arrive at my destination. In a daze, I hurriedly speed walked from my parking spot on the outskirts of Ghent to the venue, when I abruptly stopped in my tracks in awe of this quote on the building. Good thing I halted, because in my haste I had almost run past where I actually needed to be and made myself even later.
First I feel I need to emphasise what an AMAZING place Trefpunt is. As if I wasnโt sweaty enough already from the walk there, the indian-summer heat inside was enough to almost melt me away. So yeah, it was sweaty as fuck, punk as fuck but filled to the brim with a merry band of misfits that oozed Purple vibes. It felt like coming home to a room full of strangers. And then I spotted my musical friends I made this year and the last ounce of stress and self-doubt fell off of my sweaty shoulders. I HAD MADE IT!
I even made it in time for the opener Tuesday Violence and HOLY HELL I am so glad I did. A three headed band started during lockdown. You have Daveney, originally from the Netherlands but emigrated here 9 years ago, on drums & vocals. Bruxelloise Crystal is on organ (!) and vocals and Niels from Ghent is on guitar. The sound they produce together is almost indescribable. I wrote it up as incredible punk & roll but they describe it as primitive garage punk. Call it what you will, I will just refer to their sound as extraordinarily FANTASTIC. Crystal & Deveneyโs voices were reminiscent of some of my favourite female punkers, like Brody Dalle & the ladies from Maid of Ace. The energy of their set was exhilarating and set the pace for the rest of the night.
Crystal, Deveney and Niels + yours truly
Aside from being fired up on stage, they were super nice and kind off stage. I got to talking to Deveney & Crystal who told me all about how they started and the amazing backstory on that beautiful organ she was playing on stage. My reference to Maid of Ace (another experience I still have to write about) led to vague plans for a possible ALL FEMALE (and Niels) double bill of both Tuesday Violence & the Maids at the Black Flamingo! (Fingers crossed we can set this up for 2024.)
In the meantime: check out Tuesday Violence newly released album!
Talking to these ladies was such intriguing fun, we almost missed the start of The Bridge City Sinners set! Time to run back in and claim a place for a piece of musical history Ghent will not soon forget. My lackadaisical approach to picture/video taking should tell you how good of a night it really was. These are meant as mere mementos more than actual good visual and/or auditory representation.
My notes start off with a simple OMG. Because Oh My unholy GOD, if I thought I already adored The Bridge City Sinners on record, itโs a WHOLE other thing seeing them live. I am staring at that stage in ABSOLUTE LOVE and AWE of the glorious mayhem of strings and vocals. The music feels so much more layered while seeing it live, because you can pick apart all the scrumptious little details. I made a video that gives only a vague idea about how epic of a performance it was. (Trust me, it does the evening NO justice at all, but it may give you a slight idea as to what you’ve missed.)
There is just so so much fucking talent on that ONE tiny stage! They all sing (and very well I might add), they all play multiple instruments which they casually switch during the set, like itโs nothing. From banjos to fiddles, from guitars to dobros; topped with a standing bass and a side of madness.
Aside from the Sinners, they all have several other bands and solo projects going on. Thatโs the thing about good music. Itโs not just a series of notes and words reiterated on a stage. Good musicians and bands LIVE for their music. They breathe the music like it is their oxygen, and every night they play, they exchange that life force with their audience. Only to get recharged night after night and in the meantime honing their skills and getting more extraordinary with every gig.
This is what is happening here, itโs a band of exceptionally talented and dedicated musicians who LOVE what they do and the people they do it with. Every one of them gets their chance to shine on stage, with the wonderful Libby as a master of ceremonies directing her friends to their own spotlight. My hazy notes tell me I was again very much impressed by Clydeโs voice and taken aback when he started grunting during one song. The banjolos(not one BUT AT LEAST TWO) were mentioned as well. I was also very impressed by Lightinโ Luke and his fiddlework and something else he was doing because I wrote down โThe fuck is he playing? Woap wap?โ. Alas, I have no clue what I am referencing here, but all of these weird obscure scribblings just prove it was such a good show, I lost all sense of making sense. And thatโs the way I like it.
My notes do however mention my admiration of Joey Steel, who acts as the tour manager for The Sinnersโ European Vacation. Heโs running around before, during and after the gig, setting everything up so that the band can just focus on doing what they do best. Meanwhile, he still makes the time to greet me with a big hug, in between all his hauling around and setting up. Joey Steel, hardest working man in showbiz and still so fucking nice!๐ (Weโll even forgive him for turning on the venueโs lights for that one brief moment where he paused and leaned against the wall!)
Near the end of their set, there is one special moment where Libby dedicates the following song to Tomas, their friend and the lead singer of Profane Sass who died on the road. The song was written for him, upon learning of his untimely death. The ways she talked about him and in reading up on him, it seems he was one of those one of a kind, magical people who radiated goodness and life force all around. He lived for the music and what that music could bring to people. I never knew him while he was alive, but itโs beautiful to see heโs still on the road, through his friends and touching people’s hearts.
The set up until then had already been absolutely amazing, but this was a beautiful moment that put the cherry on top. A moment of musical synchronicity for me, especially when she sang the words โOut of the darkness and heading out to seaโ. I reflected on my own journey out of the darkness surrounding death and my journey ahead to the sea. The lyrics would prove to be even more synchronicitous a few days later when I yelled them into the surf. Itโs one of those moments I will never forget. A moment, a story, a song and a band etched onto my soul forever.
The Bridge City Sinners probably donโt even fully know just how phenomenal and rare it is what they do, what they bring to their audience. If they do, it certainly doesnโt show in their attitudes because the Sinners I got to talk to are wonderfully down to earth.
There are no accurate words to describe the atmosphere in that venue, which was bulging at the seams at this impossibly perfect event. The band said it themselves, this would probably be the last tour theyโll be able to play smaller and more intimate venues like Trefpunt. I am SO ecstatic I got to be there, to experience up close and personal the intoxicating chaos and fury with which the Sinners approach their live sets.
After the show I still have a ways to go even though I wrote down that I am not sure just how my legs are still functional. I am completely running on fumes and adrenaline. I walk back to the car with Jo & Tiho through a calm and peaceful city and drive up to the coast where I still find a last mere ounce of fuel to unload all my shit. I then collapse onto the bed for a happy and well earned slumber, not yet fully aware of the catharsis I just experienced and the one that still lays ahead.
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 thatโs how it should stay, so I am documenting this to help me remember.ย
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.ย
I’m writing this all down so I can finally learn to remember to never forget. Because it is so easily forgotten. I am posting this from a place where I am on the brink of having forgotten again. Where I can barely believe the words I have written here myself. Where all I want to do is shut out the world entirely. I am desperately retraining my mind to latch onto the positives as eagerly as it embraces the negatives. Searching for an upward spiral of sorts, away from the abyss. So here goes.
Around the time of Gipsy & Kielโs tour, there is a lot going on in my life all at the same time. Life usually is a bit messy at the best of times, but this period contains a combination of stressors which make it even more difficult. Part of that mess is the fact that it is September, and almost a year ago that I had lost my father to a devastating disease. Remembering the feelings from sitting by his sickbed, seeing him turn into a shadow of his former self is weighing me down. During the year I had found him looking on in the musical synchronicity, which had helped me tremendously in my grieving process.
I was starting to lose the connection. In the turmoil I found myself in, I started to roll back into old habits and feelings of hopelessness. I was still bathing in the music, revelling in its beauty. But I lost track of what had been the most important about it, what it actually signified. The hope of another life, another me who was strengthened and lifted up by the music as a sort of harness against the perils of the world. I still felt the beauty, but no longer the surge of strength it brought me. I could feel myself slipping away again in all the wrong coping strategies.
Iโd nearly hit bottom again. I was losing myself in grief, sadness and anger and could feel my sense of self become smaller again. After another awful day where the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness prevailed, everything inside me was screaming to stay in and shut myself away from the world. But I didnโt, I forced myself to go against that feeling and I went to The Black Flamingo instead. I let myself drift on the waves of music that Gipsy and Kiel brought with them. I got to feel that warm hug of those Purple people around me again. (And that one guy, but you know, sometimes it takes something appalling to let the good shine out even more. I was intently protected from his aura of awful by those around.)
It didnโt really sink in until the show on Monday though. Iโd felt my dad there again, in The Black Flamingo. In the music. I heard it again in de Floeren Aap. He would have absolutely loved Gipsy Rufina and Kiel Grove. While hanging out with Ann we were talking each others ears off about just about anything. And it hit me, these are the types of people I need in my life. Full of positive energy, dreams and crazy life plans. Full of an all consuming LOVE and ADORATION for things. Around people like this, I donโt have to put bits of myself away. I donโt have to wear a mask or pretend, I get to wear my heart on my sleeve, where it should be!ย Somewhere the conversation turned to the tattoo Ann had of Dante, the dog from Coco. I had been contemplating watching that movie again because I was thinking of my dad and all those who went before him.
When the day of the third Gipsy/Kiel show came and my body screamed at me to give it some rest, I decided to give in to self care and self comfort. With a blanket and cat at the ready, I put on Coco and floated away in a world of music and colour.ย
It underlined everything I have lived and learned through music since March. A story of a grieving process through finding myself again, finding my way to my people again and with music as a giant Purple thread throughout all of it. Coco is all about honouring your dead and speaking their name. Itโs about destiny. Of going against the grain, about not just following the road of what is expected of you. About a belief in yourself that you cannot let go.ย ย
Music is part of my destiny, in one form or another. Music as the fuel for my words and art. Music as a life force driving me from one place to another, discovering the world and its people. Music as a form of therapy, mindfulness and anti-depressant. In making it myself eventually. (Though I have still yet to successfully form or keep a band.) Itโll always be there alongside of me, in one form or another. I need to keep seeing it, feeling the fuel of it.ย
My road seems riddled now with little reminders to it. At the end of the month, the day of the wild Bridge City Sinners gig, I am on a group outing. Suddenly, I am surrounded by the colour and wonder of Coco in this Dia de Los Muertos decor.
I smile and walk through it. Putting in my earbuds and FEELING the music that is playing.ย I want and NEED to learn to keep my eyes and ears open for these reminders of the beauty. It’s so easy to miss it all in the overwhelm when your senses get glazed over by the mist of darkness.
So I am leaving this note here. As a light, a shining beacon of how it can be, if I remember to REALLY see.
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 thatโs 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 Iโd met at the James Hunnicutt & WhiskeyDick tour back in June.) I didnโt 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.ย
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 whoโs 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 Iโm on holiday in my own city, locked away in this hidden square right near the bustling centre of town. Itโs 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 canโt. I seriously cannot. I tried to pinpoint it in my post about his passage in The Black Flamingo, but it still doesnโt seem to do it justice. The way he sort of plays and sings his tunes is pretty damn unique.ย
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. Iโm not even going to try to retell them, youโll 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.ย
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 youโd feel on a near month long tour of driving and playing every day in the sweltering summer heat? And it doesnโt 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.ย
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 peopleโs pets while on the road. My kinda people!) it is time for set two.
Weโre 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 doesnโt 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 itโs 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.ย
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, Iโm 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 theyโre good again, and I leave with a bag of recommendations I still need to check out.ย (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 thatโs 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 didnโt need to listen to the music in advance, I blindly trust Joโs 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 didnโt 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 donโt mind on my path at all. ๐ 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. Iโm still not sure if I can find the right words to describe these two astonishing artists, whoโve 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 Joโs 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 โservicesโ. *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 weโre 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. โIโm going to play some banjo for you, if you donโt mind.โ No, I most certainly donโt mind Gipsy, Iโve been waiting for it.
This is where I fervently draw an arrow to further on in my notes where I write โAnd we definitely donโt mind when you play it like that!โ The sound he draws from that banjo is unreal, itโs like thereโs 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. Iโve 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 Iโd 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 doesnโt BEGIN to describe it. We have to come up with another colour to define this. Maybe Terry Pratchettโs 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 Iโm about to miss Kiel Groveโs first song. Thereโs something special starting here. After being absolutely mesmerised by Gipsy Rufinaโs performance, I thought anything that followed would never be able to compare or hold up against that set. I couldnโt be more wrong, because here I am again just completely transfixed and blown away by the first few notes floating off the stage. Theyโre 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 canโt believe can just come from one bit of wood and strings. It somehow feels like thereโs 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 Iโm on could just as well have been placed in the mud at Woodstock. It feels like thereโs echoes from a time long past interwoven in the music, almost like it doesnโt 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 Kielโs 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 didnโt have any idea how to describe what just happened to me during those two sets. I fear I still canโt 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, whoโd 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!
PART ONE – SCENE ONE Saturday, September 23rd, 2023
FADE IN: EXT. BEACH BAR, NIEUWPOORT BELGIUM – DAY
I am sitting at a beach bar in Nieuwpoort, the day after another one of my favourite nights and shows of the year. I have several, they keep on accumulating. Youโd think that at some point I wouldnโt be yelling โTHIS WAS THE BEST GIG OF THE YEARโ, but here we are.
I was on the way to the butcher for a delicious meaty treat for myself (I know, I am an awful animal lover!) and wanted to walk with the North Sea in full view. I followed my gut away from the busy looking bit of the dike of Nieuwpoort beach. Seeing the squirming of all the sunny Saturday tourists made me stop in my tracks, think to myself โNOPE, not todayโ and swiftly turn the other way. The reward for trusting my gut feeling was nearly instant. After noping out of the first bar (WAY too loud and hip for my taste) I settled on the second beach bar in sight. Swing chairs with a dune and ocean view? Yes, please! I settled in, put my headphones on and fired up the Spotify playlist I started with my good friend Jo.ย
How synchronicitous that this song should come on while writing this. The lyrics are etched into my soul.
Took me two years to write this song, I wanted it perfect, no wrinkles in it. Took me a long time to come clean, To be honest, the truthโs so ugly.
No matter how far I run, I always end up back here. No matter how far I go, I always end up back here. In the mirror, in the mirror, in the mirror, only in the mirror.
I always felt so out of placะต, In a crowded room, I speak too soon Yeah I put a big smilะต on my face, I canโt let them know itโs all for show, No
Iโm tired of running, Iโm tired of running, Iโm tired of running, Iโm tired of running, Iโm tired of running, Iโm tired of running, Iโm tired of RUNNING
The Interrupters – In the Mirror
I saw The Interrupters earlier this year (in the chaotic gig-filled month of June I am still scrambling to write fully about.) and broke my voice while singing along to this song. It was yet another cathartic experience in this insanely amazing year of music, that keeps piling those moments on top of each other. But I digress.
As I sit lie here, contentedly swinging in my beach chair while writing, a gentle sea breeze blows through my hair. I realise I am no longer my own worst enemy. In fact, I am thoroughly enjoying my own company. No outside stressors or responsibilities. Just me myself and I, tuning the world out by way of The Best Playlist in the World. The salty sea air in my nose, my notebook at hand and barely any humans in sight. All I see is sandy dunes, a lot of sunshine with a few clouds, the beautiful North Sea and some kites floating merrily in the wind.
It all emphasises how sorely I needed this getaway after nearly three years of constant stress, darkness & self-doubt. Iโve resurfaced after one of the worst periods in my life in general. First there was the burnout and subsequent depression that I could not seem to crawl out of. Followed by a stupid incident in which I broke my foot and the slow healing process over the gruellingly boring summer of 2021. Then a string of injuries and illness in the family, resulting in the caring for (and about) both my mother and father. (Which left the summer of 2022 without music as well, aside from Punk in Drublic.)
Then came the death of my father around this time last year, and another tumble down that jet black abyss followed. The music and Purple People saved me from that one. As I was slowly crawling out of that hole, I ended a 17 year long relationship and started a nine month long, intense group therapy process which I am now halfway through. I might not have been working, but my mind never seemed to get a moment’s rest either way.
How the fuck did I ever expect to get myself out of a burnout that had been in the works for YEARS, while still burning the candle at both ends? It was delusional to think I could have done it alone. Nevertheless, I am sure that this sequence of events was not without meaning in and of itself. I am sure to my core I needed to pass through all of that to end up here. Both figuratively and literally speaking. I needed to end up here, at this exact moment in time, in this particular place in space. I will look back on this and see what a huge step it will have been in my healing process. I am beyond sure of that.
Over the last couple of years I had been having these weird anxiety filled stress dreams, about being near the sea and not finding my way to the beach. I have been YEARNING to put my feet in the ocean and feel the wind in my hair since before the lockdown of 2020. I have finally arrived and made it to my own private beachfront holiday.
I am bathing myself in profoundly precious memories in the coastal town where my grandparents bought an apartment the year I was born. I spent every summer of my childhood here with my family. I am treasuring those echoes of the past, of my inner child deep within. Itโs in the smells of the sand & sea, of the gasoline in the parking garage below the apartment. Itโs in the view of the beautifully repainted waterfront property with the words Inchโ Allah embedded in the stone. It always links back to the music, in this case the song by Adamo, an artist I dearly love courtesy of my mother and grandmother.
Being here on this second day of Autumn, enjoying probably one of the last Indian summer days of the year, feels positively magical. I spent a chaotic but intensely rewarding day yesterday getting over a LOT of fears, both real and imaginary. (Fear of heights and roller coasters, group dynamics, traffic and bad weather combined with very tight schedules and timelines. A right mess for a neurodivergent person such as myself.) It morphed into one of the best days and nights of 2023. (And that is saying something!) I was surrounded by good friends and like minded souls in the midst of the all encompassing piece of life that is The Music.
I feel like I am finally discovering myself as an actual person. And most importantly, I like that face staring back at me in the mirror, for the first time in maybe EVER.
‘The most beautiful thing you can become is yourself’ – taken (in the mirror) at Trefpunt Ghent
That all of this should happen NOW and HERE is nothing less than prophetic. It is fate. It is destiny. It is another bit of proof I am walking the right road. MY road. The road I was meant for from the start. Iโve been walking it all along, but I just now passed the bit in between where there were no lights, signage or roadmarks. It feels good to be on the other side. To be able to breathe and let go of the anxieties that have been stuck to me for all these years. I see a light at the end of the tunnel and I am walking towards it. Smiling to myself. Following where the music takes me next.
A promise to no longer be my own worst enemy. A story about neurodivergence and acceptance in three songs.
I got my ADHD diagnosis last year at the ripe โoldโ age of 36. In learning more about it, a LOT finally started to make sense. Why the life I was building for myself never really seemed to fit me. Why I never seemed to reach my own potential. However, there was still a puzzle piece missing. I got tested for both ADHD & Autism Spectrum Disorder at the same time. I had become so adept at masking myself, I did not get diagnosed as being on the spectrum. In subsequently talking to people, and reading up about autism and neurodivergence, I realised that diagnosis was wrong. I am both autistic and have ADHD. All those little quirks and difficulties I experienced all through life suddenly became one of two. The constant battle in my head between order and chaos was suddenly very clear.
My life was made of masks, one for every occasion. First I hid my true self away, out of fear of not being accepted. Of being seen as weak. Of being perceived as weird. Of being thought of as a failure. Of being known as difficult. I became the person I thought I should be, not the person I actually was. It was a recipe for disaster. I was a ticking time bomb waiting to erupt. Last year I finally learned why everything always seemed SO much harder for me. Life in general, school, work and interpersonal relationships.
But when I learned about, and started to accept and work around my (self)diagnosis as AuDHD, that became a mask in and of itself. I started to apologise for myself and my way of thinking about things and my way of doing things because of what those disorders meant to me. I have ADHD so I must be LOUD and OBNOXIOUS, SORRY. At the same time I am autistic, but because I am such a LOUD AND OBNOXIOUS ADHD’er, I didnโt feel like I had the right to claim the space, peace and tranquillity I needed. It was a constant struggle with myself and not in the least, with the people around me.
This year, right around the time I was rediscovering myself in the music and the words, I started group therapy in a clinic near me. I am so unbelievably grateful for having found that path. In the last three and a half months I have learned SO much about myself and moreover, myself in the world around me. It has been challenging and confronting at every turn. But I am slowly learning to understand myself and treat myself with the same compassion and empathy with which I approach other people. Itโs a process with big ups and downs, but it is so unbelievably rewarding.
It really should not have come as such a surprise to me that I am my own worst enemy. I make life so much harder on myself by trying to do everything right. For myself, but especially for those around me. I adapted a mask very early on, hid myself away and pretended to be strong for years. Because I thought that was helping those around me, not having to worry about me and the dark abyss I was tumbling into. In reality, by pretending to be made of stone, I continued the fallacy that we should all be made of granite. That there is no room for us to crumble, even just a little.
I am now slowly learning that vulnerability is a strength and not a weakness. How itโs okay to not be okay. And how in showing and talking about my own struggles, others learn to find the words to describe their fragility and pain as well. There is beauty in recognition and unity in commiseration. We all struggle with things, why not struggle together? A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. Because in sharing and commiserating, we can all grow together.
This blog started as a simple foreword to a piece about music. I was going to write about finding synchronicity in music again thanks to two shows by Gipsy Rufina & Kiel Grove. (Don’t worry, I WILL get to them!) How reconnecting with Ann, whom I met at the James Hunnicutt & Whiskey Dick gigs, led me to watch Coco again and what that meant to me in this dark September month. But the foreword developed a mind of its own and turned into this. It was meant as a sort of apology to all the bands and artists I promised my words to over the last couple of months. But in letting loose and just following the words, I realise I have nothing to apologise for.
Thereโs something to be said for continuity and following the precise sequence of events. Itโs nice and neat and comprehensible. (Some might even call it Nice & Accurate!) It is expected. Iโm usually a stickler for doing things by the rules. It brings order to my disorderly brain. But I keep losing myself in trying to do everything perfectly. In thinking more of what my actions (or inactions) might signify to others, than in realising how hard those thoughts are weighing ME down.
I am trying to break away from that to preserve my own sanity and build myself back up in the best way possible. So I donโt get burnt out from the thing that was curing my burnout. So for now I am done following the rules and promises I made in my head, because they were preventing me from telling the stories.
From now on the stories will be posted as they present and write themselves in my head. The stories recorded during this magical, musical summer (and beyond) WILL get told with all the love I felt while experiencing it. But in their own time, in my time.
Hereโs to chaos and anarchy. Hereโs to doing things my way.
RESIST. UNLEARN. DEFY.
An aside about the songs: The three songs in this blog are by a band that has a very special significance to me. Remember that message board I wrote about in my last blog on Terry Pratchett? Well, it was called Incuboard and was dedicated to Incubus. Sort of, anyway. I met some very special people there and I still remember that period very fondly. I lost track of the band a little around when they brought out Light Grenades. But I will never lose track of their previous albums and songs. They helped make me who I am to this day. They ring as true now, as they did back then.
I subconsciously chose three songs off the same album Make yourself. This was not planned, even though the title of this blog was inspired by the title song from that album. Synchronicity I guess. In threes, as always. The cover picture is inspired by a lovely art book the singer made, called White Fluffy Clouds.His art very much inspired my own. The piece below was my vague interpretation of the cover art of his book.
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. Thatโs how many amazing people I met. I connected with some of them, but not with all. So if you see yourself here and weโre 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.) Thereโs 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 Iโm sure Iโll 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 โthe crazy fanโ. Heโs 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! ๐
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 โTommy Gooberโ 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 didnโt 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 didnโt note down their name, but I am still very thankful they believed us when we couldnโt 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 โone merch itemโ the second time, but I will forever treasure my lucky sweater! Had a nice chat with them, assuring them I knew they werenโt 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! โค
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 itโs 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 โStoriesโฆโ and the other โRocking Bitchโ. (I would link them, but I sadly canโt 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! ๐
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 heโs also a great graphic designer and did some artwork for The Venomous Pinks, Bad Cop / Bad Cop AND heโs 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 isnโt purple, I donโt even know what is. We didnโt get a pic, but Iโm pretty sure our paths will cross in the future and Iโll rectify the situation then! Meanwhile, check out his amazing artwork.
Last, but most certainly not least! Zoรซ, 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! โค
Brakrock – Kasteel ter Elst – Duffel – August 4th & 5th 2023
Anticipatie in aanloop naar: Flamin’ Go Fest op 26 augustus 2023
Wat kan ik nog vertellen over mijn geliefde The Black Flamingo dat ik niet al eerder en lyrischer deed dan in mijn tweedelige ode in de serie rond Whiskey Dick & James Hunnicutt? Veel waarschijnlijk. Want ondertussen is mijn gevoel mijn plus-familie daar te hebben gevonden alleen nog maar versterkt. Dat lees je hier nog wel eens, als ik ertoe kom. Ik heb nog heel wat stukjes in mijn achterzak (lees: mijn Google Drive) zitten. Over de double bill van Kevlar en Dalver, of die van Freddie Webber en Berang, en over de passage van Luna en de Maanstenen aldaar. Ook nog een serietje rond Joey Henry, dat begon met pre-FOMO omdat hij eerst in Den Oude Ketel kwam en ik wist dat ik spijt zou hebben als ik dat niet had meegemaakt eens hij dan uiteindelijk passeerde in de Flamingo zelf. (Ik ben naar beide optredens gegaan, ver over mijn grenzen. Maar het was het MEER dan waard.)
Eindelijk, na maanden vergeten dan toch de selfie met Jo & Polexia!
Want als Jo zegt dat ik moet komen, dan kom ik, no questions asked. En ook, zonder goed te weten waaraan ik begin. Want ik had de laatste tijd niet de tijd om muziek te ontdekken. Enfin, ik maakte de tijd niet, een werkpuntje van mij. Vanaf nu is muziek ontdekken een mogelijk stukje zelfzorg dat ik oppik, wanneer ik mezelf dwing tot rust en zelfzorg. Ik moet mezelf soms dwingen daartoe, jawel, anders loop ik mezelf geheel voorbij. Maar goed, daโs een ander verhaal, voor een andere blogreeks. Punt van deze paragraaf is, Jo kent mij (en mijn muzieksmaak) na 6 maanden beter dan ik mezelf ken. Ik weet dat ik op zijn oordeel kan vertrouwen. Daarom staat deze zaterdag 26 augustus al maanden omcirkeld in mijn agenda. Deze zaterdag is het namelijk tijd voor Flaminโ GO Fest. Vlammende GAAN in het Engels, geen feest voor flamingo’s. Al zijn die natuurlijk ook altijd welkom. Strijk maar neer!
Vorige week gaf Jo me nog een korte synopsis van de groepen die daar zullen aantreden. Ik noteerde niets (in mijn glimmend nieuwe schrijfschrift, bye bye Google Docs!) en daarna overdonderde Joey Henri me alweer volledig met zijn muziek-medicijn-groepstherapie, dus ik ga zelfs niet proberen het te ontrafelen en iets zinnigs te recapituleren. Ik weet enkel dat ik elke keer โOh ja, check, klinkt DIK in orde!โ dacht (en of zei) na de info die hij verschafte per band. En dat ze allemaal stuk voor stuk PAARS AS FUCK klinken. Dus, geloof in mijn geloof in de uitstekende muzieksmaak van Mister Black Flamingo himself en komt dat zien. (Of zoek ze zelf even op via de Youtubes, Spotify, Bandcamps en andere sociale netwerken van deze wereld.)
Vier topbands, een barbeque met Flaminโ Go pilli pilli saus van Yannick Zwijsen (NIET voor gevoelige zielen/magen) en een Free Podium? Count me in!
Toegang is 15 euro voor enkel de muziek & en 25 euro als je ook een vleesje wil. (Ben je Veggie? Geef dat dan zeker door, ook met uw wensen kan rekening worden gehouden!)
Zeg nu zelf, dat is gรฉรฉn geld voor een festival in tijden van graai-flatie. Drank is bovendien beschikbaar aan zeer democratische prijzen.
Wil jij er ook bij zijn? Stuur dan een gele briefkaart naar een van de bands of slide into the DMโs van The Black Flamingo op Instagram en Facebook en schrijf je op voorhand in. Want het is een privรฉfeest, enkel voor de meest Paarsen der zielen.
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. Thatโs how many amazing people I met. I connected with some of them, but not with all. So if you see yourself here and weโre 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. Weโd 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. โค 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’ ๐
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. ๐ 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 Iโve 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, itโll 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! Itโs 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! ๐
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. โค 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 Muziekcafรฉ 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. Iโve heard of so many great bands playing there already. I will be led there soon, I am sure. (Donโt 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. Itโs as if the Google Maps people were like โWe have to commemorate this special event by sending out our mapping carโ. I canโt 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 youโll 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 โ 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. โค
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 โDonโt let teardrops fill your eyesโ ALL DAY. I had collected four jet black feathers during a long walk in my surroundings. Iโm 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 didnโt 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 didnโt 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 Jamesโ 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 โ 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 โYeah dad, I hear you. I am on my way there.โ 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 wasnโt 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 โJulie, you made it!โ 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 donโt 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 โHI AND I LOVE YOU GUYS BUT I NEED A DRINK I AM SO HOT WHAT IS THIS HEAT I HATE ELECTRIC CARS.โ 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 โ 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 โthatโs my cueโ 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 โdonโtโ, 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 wouldnโt 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 โ 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 Jamesโ voice actually is, but much like the video I took, I donโt 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 doesnโt 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 heโs even better than Kyle Gass from Tenacious D AND HE DOESNโT EVEN KNOW IT.
The Reverend – Whiskey Dick @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography โ 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 โ June 19th 2023
I go on to write about Fritz that heโs the best goddamn rhythm guitar Iโve ever heard, more energetic than Jack Black, and I donโt say shit like that lightly.
The Reverend – Whiskey Dick @ Den Oude Ketel | Photo : Bakkie Photography โ 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, itโs not always a given that the sound is so well balanced. (Come to think of it, thatโs 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 โHereโs where we tell Tuesday to kick our ass.โ 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 doesnโt really know what he does, he just jams out. He didnโt have a classical background in learning music. It seems to me he doesnโt 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 theyโd gone from people Iโd 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.ย
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 whoโs 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 donโt have to. (Also because I can’t stop it. It is an affliction. A wonderful, magical affliction, Lisa!)ย
Unfortunately it would later turn out Muddy Roots doesnโt 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 Iโm not sure if Iโd 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 Iโll 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 Reverendโs guitar playing. He reacts in the same completely-oblivious-to-his-own-actual-talent way. These people are special. And they donโt 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. Theyโre 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. โListen first, talk laterโ, 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 WOOโs 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 cafรฉ, 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 Iโm 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. Heโs 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 donโt 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.
Iโd 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. Thatโs 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 didnโt 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 Dickโs 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 Iโm 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, letโs get on with the show.
James Hunnicuttโs 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 thatโs 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.
Sheโs followed James Hunnicutt for years now. I totally understand why. The song is โDonโt let teardrops fill your eyesโ. He starts playing it, Fritz and the Reverend do a silly dance in the back and sing along. The more he sings โdonโt let teardrops fill your eyesโ, 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 Fritzโ 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: โReverend, 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 hadnโt 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, Iโd 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 isnโt completely fantastic in his own way. Because the power chords he pushes from his guitar are mental. And that voice, itโs 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 Reverendโs feet move over the pedals in front of him and am completely transfixed. I make a note to ask him after the show โHOWโ.
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 itโs the same in this case. But they didnโt leave without going out with a bang. There is one song they havenโt played. It was especially requested for Misses Black Flamingo, who usually doesnโt 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 donโt have much of an opinion about one way or the other. (Yes, that happens!) But Whiskey Dickโs 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.
Iโm 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 Iโll have to keep that for Part four: Post-show Purple People. Because there is still so much story to tell.ย
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, weโre 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. Thatโs how we get to talking to Mister Black Flamingo himself, weโll call him Jo, because thatโs his name and also very much shorter than writing Mister Black Flamingo himself. Heโs accompanied by his son Tihomir (what a fucking BAD ASS name, by the way!) and since weโre 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 wasnโt 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 Amandaโs 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 wasnโt expecting much of a reaction. But then. He responded in exactly the way I would have. He GOT it. And we havenโt 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 ๐
Jo
So what I have found here is a place full of people where I donโt 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 thatโs 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 canโt believe some of the things he recommends to me. Like, I canโt believe they havenโt 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 thereโs a show every day. So I say fuck it, and just go.
PS: There is a ridiculous lack of photos in this post. Itโs the musicโs 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 didnโt 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. Thereโs 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, donโt 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. โIt’s in this little place in Nijlen, you will love it there!โ 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. (Iโm 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 itโs 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 wasnโt 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.ย
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.ย
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 Bordelloโs 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 arenโt mad I missed their show, but really enthusiastic to tell me all about it. At this point, there havenโt 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!ย
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 isnโt 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 didnโt 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. Letโs 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 donโt 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 Polexiaโs time to shine!ย
Letโs 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 itโs their first time in Belgium, which as it turns out, it is. Not only that, but they hadnโt 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 โnormalโ 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 canโt help but ask how theyโre liking our beers since their version of Stella is watered down. The poetic words โI wouldn’t poke Stella with the dick of an enemyโ were followed by the second ode to Pimmโs 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 Pimmโs 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 Tobyโs 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. (Iโm 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 โ 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 itโs 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 โfuck yeahโ 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 โfucking accordeon lady, yeahโ 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 โ June 3rd 2023
Thereโs 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 itโs 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 thereโs 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: โwe have the same idea, youโre doing exactly the same thingโ. 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. โค
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. Itโs all good and well. (I notice my preferred personal space circle gets a lot smaller in a happy dancing crowd, oddly enough. I donโt even mind the people bumping into me or getting drinks poured over me (usually). Itโs just what happens when weโre 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 canโt possibly play anymore, so I strike up another conversation with some people near me. Turns out they canโt help me with my โenthusiastic dancing Belgiansโ question since theyโre 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 Iโll 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. Itโs not just a show. You make friends here. Itโs a place to just enjoy life. Itโs 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
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. (Iโm 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 probably 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!)
Yes, this song again. I know they have others. Bear with me.
Weโll start at the beginning and that is long before the concert even started. Actually, The Devil Makes Three were probably not even back on their tour bus yet, after an exhilarating performance at De Casino. Was walking to the car, drunk on music and experiences, as usual after a show. I was so happy about my night with the Three and SO looking forward to the show I will eventually start to describe. (I promise.) Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw this beautiful human walking ahead of us.
The Purple People energy is high in this picture!
I caught up with him and possibly yelled at him: ‘DO YOU KNOW GOGOL BORDELLO!’ (Yes, it was a question, but not framed as one.)
He didn’t seem frightened or taken aback by this sudden attack on his way to the station.
No, he in fact did not know what a Gogol Bordello was. He in fact had known what a Devil Makes Three was for THREE YEARS before seeing them that night.
It was his mom who recommended he see this show. HIS FIRST EVER MUSIC SHOW YโALL. Because of all the bullshit that caused the lockdowns and the annus horribilis 2020 that set everything in motion. The year I had to put reviewing on hold, even though I had only started a few months earlier. The day I thought of my first Polexia Miller post. Two days before the birth of the actual idea behind it. That day was the day he saw the show of the band he had loved deeply for years. I can SO relate to that.
In my adrenaline filled excitement I either forgot to ask for his real name, or forgot to remember it. (BUT my brain DID have the forethought to ask for his Insta so I just sent him a frantic message. Second time I had to do this in a week. No wait, third! Anyway, it’s Noah, HI NOAH! ) Itโs all good, who needs real names when weโre already 100% on the same-energy level and already planning drinks?
Now. We’ve finally arrived. The wait is finally over. It is Saturday. It is time to mix among the Purple People. I am BURSTING to the core. So much so that I have to throw myself out of the car about a 10 minute walk from de Roma in Antwerp, because we HAD BEEN LOOKING FOR PARKING FOR 45 MINUTES. We had already missed the opener, I was starting to get really anxious, so I gave myself a breather. Shit. My partner in crime, still driving the car hopelessly around, had the tickets. SO CLOSE. Okay, donโt panic. He sent them. NO, itโs SONS! (Though I wouldnโt mind going back, I am just here for a different sort of mayhem today.)
After another frantic, and probably not so nice (sorry, I was really overwhelmed) call, I get the right tickets. I walk in awkwardly and finally find a place to sit (also awkwardly). But who do I spot with my kaleidoscopic eye, but yet another kindred spirit!
Julie + her spirit person and outfit inspirator: Regula ‘Queen of Baking’ Ysewijn.
Of COURSE she is a Purple Person. A true free spirit, who brings colour and beauty into this world. I am by no means a Master Baker, but I am in absolute love with both the UK & Flemish version of The Bake Off. (It used to have Sandi Toksvig before she grew tired of merengues.Now she’s on one of my other favourites QI. But I digress)
So seeing the Queen of Baking (and fashion) there, after my mini freak out, (you probably can’t tell, but I had been crying just seconds before.) felt like the best possible omen. (Spoiler – because this is getting long- IT WAS!)
Gogol Bordello @ De Roma | Photo : Mathias Verschueren โ June 3rd 2023
We made it. Part two will ACTUALLY contain a written record of the ACTUAL performance. Pinky promise. (I think you may have just witnessed the birth of a new hyperfixation.) Spoiler?
During show selfie up the top of the stairs at de Roma. Sweating and smiling. (THE sign of good music!)
The end. For NOW!
Huge thanks to de Roma for the beautiful professional shots I get to use. Huisfotograaf Mathias Verschueren en Jef: <3!
GOGOL BORDELLO – Saturday June 3rd 2023, De Roma Antwerpen
DownSideUp 