Brighton was alive with the sound of music, international anecdotes and wild eyed rapture as bands across the globe descended on the seaside city; it was as though John Peel himself had poured the best and eclectic mix of bands and artists from above across the Albion. The comparisons to SXSW are modestly accurate, though The Great Escape is without doubt a beast with its own temperament and soul. No fields or mud – this is the greatest bar crawl in existence with variety and discovery at its core. Headliners and narcissism? No thank you. Unknown and ardent? Yes please. Even those without wristbands were treated to an overwhelming wave of discovery via the Alternative Escape. There was something in the air, consuming, infectious and heartening and nothing could spoil it. Not even our liver, lungs and knees limitations. What started with insightful convention panel discussions at midday in Komedia on Day 1, ended with whisky fuelled dissipation with Blood Red Shoes in Sticky Mike’s Frog Bar at 6:00am on Day 3. From stage dive bruising to heathen chemistry within St Mary’s Church – Brighton gave us everything. Days, nights and memories pooled into one joyful yet disconnected sequence of events that will make you question your future festival choices and notions as well as those mystery bruises.
Day 1
Despite only being Day 1, what quickly became apparent was bands and artists keenness to drink with revellers pre and post gig – which set things up beautifully for Day 3, however I digress. Day 1 saw an awesome wave of leather jackets and beards surround the city like seamen to the egg, and impromptu pop up gigs spawn across the city. Wild abandonment descended over Brighton as A Tribe Called Red tore their African-Electro beats at The Blind Tiger whilst South African band SKIP&DIE’s set at Audio slapped every tired leg into action. Despite being clothed in the worst the eighties could ever have provided, the band, who recorded their debut album on the 10th floor of an abandoned office block in Amsterdam threw everyone into delirious revelry with their hip hop, dubstep and electronica infused lunacy and (putting most Brits to shame) impressively conversed in Spanish, Portuguese, English, Afrikaans and Zulu in their wild eyed fashion. A young boy who fell asleep with his ear pressed to the speaker will probably have heard his last Afrikaans let alone sound that night. Tom Odell’s ethereal set at The Warren presented not only rest bite for a second wind but a harrowing set to juxtapose SKIP&DIE’s Afrikaan insanity. The young boy by the speakers really chose the wrong speaker to sleep next to. LA’s Deap Vally’s attempt to befriend an irritated and rather bored crowd after a 40 minute wait, requested that we “drink some fucking whisky”. This fell on deaf ears – especially a certain young boys. A set comparable to The Runaways yet soulless and disconnected, all substance and no style – it was hard to care after the received warmth from all other bands and their Axl Rose moment. The night wasn’t killed off though with Crystal Fighters waving in the morning with the energy of a band that’d received a Red Bull enema via a canon.
Day 2
Day 2, and my legs felt stigmatic. Antichrist had nothing on me. Exercise, namely walking was an issue and I hadn’t essentially had this level of exercise since P.E. Those in their thirties with bicycles and skateboards who were mocked the day before were rapidly looking less stupid. PPL provided an intriguing insight into how music media relationships compare in other countries at The Old Courtroom. However interesting, music called us away and in Library Square, The Metro’s Hub offered bands of intrigue – namely Enchanted Hunters from Poland. Their folk pop drew a large crowd and almost traffic standstill on the nearby road, whose tunes as they described were mostly about “The end of the world but chilling out at the same time”. What else do you need? Despite tempting thoughts of cutting my legs off as I felt they were actually holding me back…? We made our way to the beach to legendary venue Concorde 2 for Arcane Roots. Despite the diversity and musical goodness we had consumed already, a longing for the loud six string was ever-growing. Concorde turned dial to 11 and Arcane Roots filled our boots with some much needed rock and Red Stripe. An energetic set which matched every band’s passionate disposition. A walk back into town was required for the trip to Komedia and despite the doormen’s cup and ball mind game attacks on those in the queue by switching the upstairs and downstairs gig queues. Now, pleasantly drunk, I unfortunately fell victim to the tomfoolery of these troubled troglodytes and missed Laurence Arabia after walking/falling down the wrong set of steps within the building. However by chance I discovered a great band from Ireland – Little Green Cars. The wholesome yet gritty folk music with beautiful female led vocals quickly took hold of my eyes and ears to become one of my favourite discoveries of the weekend. And a gentleman who was convinced he’d reached his hotel bedroom within the men’s toilets of Komedia, using piss filled shoes as a pillow, and testicle tea served for breakfast, added to an intriguing gig. The Wytches at The Haunt and LostAlone at The Green Door Store merged beautifully into Klaxons standout set at the Corn Exchange. It was hard not to be overwhelmed at what was on offer. At dusk, Day 2 ended with a delirium fuelled pile up on the dodgems at the pier. Indeed.
Day 3
Day 3, and we felt as that our kidneys had been ripped out through our knee caps. Canada took over The Blind Tiger for The Prairie BBQ. Pulled pork burgers, ribs and a free beer at 11.30am provided even the most bruised, scarred and hungover festival goer with some well needed nourishment. Humans were eating on a level of a species that hibernate. Del Barber, who’d supported Billy Bragg the previous evening at The Brighton Dome, was on form despite the nightmares he’d received from eating a cheese heavy pizza in his hotel room. One sympathises. His acoustic set is just what everyone needed after minimal sleep and the tinnitus of Day 1. Calm and heartfelt, yet with a respectful grit and charming anecdotes. His last song was about a man named Joe who worked at the Home Depot in his hometown of Winnipeg, Canada. Joe asked him why he was looking for paint and not in church on the day of the Sabbath. Del replied by asking what Joe was doing working on the Sabbath – surely that was worse? “Well, Del” Joe replied, “I’m done with that shit, but you look like you could use it”. Shuyler Jensen, Royal Canoe, LabCoast, Boats, FistCity and FoamLake all were bands of merit – playing with vigour and resolve. Fist City’s lead singer was even successful at a 3pm stage dive and subsequently made space to dance on the floor and allow crowds to take over the mike. Canada impressed – filling ears and stomachs with every festival goer leaving the Blind Tiger with a grin and renewed energy. After finding the right set of stairs in Komedia for Husky Rescue’s humbling set, we made our way to church. Naturally. St Mary’s Church in KempTown opened it doors to heathens even providing a bar selling cans of cider. Eliza and the Bear kicked off immediately – as did the crowd. Upon arrival one might have felt this would be a sombre a affair, with a nervous disposition, being under the eyes of the lord and all. Festival goers however, discovered heathen chemistry and danced away to EATB’s melodic ethereal indie. This mightn’t be the time for Jesus’ “third coming”.
As the heathens fled God’s wrath, we made our way to the safety of Concorde 2’s beer soaked floor for Mutiny on the Bounty, The Psychics House Band, Tall Ships and Three Tapped Tigers as the sun began to set over the horizon. Brighton’s Tall Ships were the standout band of the evening though The Psychics House Band’s shear psychedelic irreverence was something to behold if your ears could take it. Night became day and the last strands of the festival shone at Sticky Mike’s Frog Bar. Deap Vally, DZ Deathrays and Blood Red Shoes drank with the best of the them, with the latter saying they’d felt like they’d been “run over” over breakfast. This was a festival like no other.
Conclusion
The Great Escape is without doubt one of the most important and undervalued festivals in Europe, let alone the UK. The convention offers an insight into the ever changing world of music, and the festival itself provides an abundance of predominantly unknown acts from across the world in some of the most unique and intimate venues – in undoubtedly one the most beautiful, gritty and liberal cities in the UK. TGE has discovery and good music at its heart – something which feeds directly into all those involved. Strangers talking on the streets about bands they’ve seen, they hope to see or they accidentally saw; Bands discussing music with festival goers before and after gigs. This community feeling is something you don’t see often at festivals and it’s infectious. Though it can be difficult to see everyone you may want to see across the city, what works in your favour is that you’re bound to discover someone great you never would have seen otherwise. This will happen without fail. Everyone you meet only has one thing on their minds – enjoying good music. Not only will you feel a part of something but you’ll discover your favourite band before you may have, or even ever would have. The festival respectfully provides few household names and instead opts for a cross section of those who can barely afford an amp. It’s difficult to provide on page the experience of abundance available to you – So if you’re bored of the same line ups each summer and need something different with live music in its roots, The Great Escape has everything you’ll ever need. Ever.
For more on this festival, see our The Great Escape Guide.
