This Love is Unbreakable

"Took my hand, touched my heart, held me close. you were always there, by my side, night and day, through it all, baby come what may. Swept away on a wave of emotion, we're caught in the eye of the storm..."

Yes, I like Westlife. Go ahead, judge me, I don’t really care. Yes, I’m a rock fan, but there’s just something about those little Irish boys that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. What, is there nothing from your childhood that you still hold dear? Perhaps a favourite teddy bear, or a comfort blanket? Well, Westlife is my comfort blanket. No matter what goes wrong in life, listening to them can make me feel like everything will be ok. Tonight, Westlife perform their last ever concert, meaning that I have to come to terms with the fact that my childhood is well and truly over. I am 21-years-old, after all, so technically I guess my childhood ended a while ago, but with the final note sung, when the curtain closes in Ireland tonight, and my four favourite lads troop off the stage, I will shed my final tear as a child, and face the world with the knowledge that nothing is as simple as a Westlife song anymore.

Damn, that was dramatic. Moving along then…

I was a huge Boyzone fan as a seven-year-old, and getting to know Westlife’s music was the next natural step. I’m not sure how old I was when ‘Swear It Again’ was tearing up the charts, but I was young enough for the song to be branded upon my mind forever more. I listened to this band so much that each of their albums defines an era in my life. Their first saw me through two years in a foreign country, and when I returned to South Africa ‘Coast To Coast’ had just come out, and this has remained my favourite Westlife album. The second half of 2001 was when I was the happiest I’d ever been: the last time that everything was simple, there was nothing to worry about, and happiness was an easy state to achieve. Yes, it may have been because I was only 10, and too young to worry about much, but I don’t think that’s the case, and when I reminisce, that’s not how I see it. The skies above my hometown were blue, the smell of the sea was in the air, and everywhere I went, Westlife’s ‘My Love’ was on the radio. And it was so appropriate: “overseas from coast to coast, to find the place I love the most, where the skies are blue…” Perhaps that’s why this song reminds me so much of home.  To this day, if I’m sad or homesick, this is the song I’ll turn to. Last weekend I visited my hometown for the first time in half a year, and ‘My Love’ was on repeat all the way to the airport. Unfortunately the song evokes some sadness in me and can make me feel even more homesick…sometimes I think I’m just a sucker for punishment.

I started grade seven in 2002, Westlife still making my little world go round. ‘Bop Bop Baby’, ‘Queen of My Heart’… I played ‘Seasons in the Sun’ as my favourite song in class. I don’t know why it reminds me of going to the library and borrowing books, but it does. “We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun…” we did. We did. The whole year was spent sitting in the car waiting for school to start, the ‘World of Our Own’ album in the car’s tape deck. The car’s still going, and it still has a tape deck. Some things never change, but others do.

2004 was grade 9, and I was slowly starting to think that liking Westlife was uncool. All my friends liked Usher, so I simply didn’t tell me that every weekend on the way home I listened to Westlife’s ‘Turnaround’ album in the new car, the car that had a CD player. Whatever. I’d rather have been in the old car. The car with the tape deck. Life would have simpler, but I still had Westlife, and nothing could touch me when I closed my eyes and sang along.

I barely remember the Westlife concert I went to in 2005. I was 14, but my friends were 16 and they sure weren’t listening to Westlife. In fact, I didn’t even tell anyone where I was going. Adolescence had obviously gotten to me, and I regret that now. Anyway, I remember standing even though I had a seat, and singing along all night. It was beautiful. A dream come true, although I’m sure I’d appreciate it more now.

My love for Westlife slowed down a bit after that, I bought most of their new albums, but hardly listened to them. The old ones, however, remained as a standby for long road trips. Eventually I got over trying to be cool, and embraced how much I love Westlife. I found out that many of my friends love them too. But it’s still difficult to explain the way their songs make me feel. I’d do anything to be in Ireland tonight, screaming my lungs out at that stadium, but more than that, I’d do anything to be 10-years-old again, strolling with my family through my local shopping centre, ‘My Love’ playing on the radio.

She's Coming To Harvest Souls! Or Not.

So Lady Gaga is coming to South Africa at the end of the year. Yay, Nay, I don't really care what you think of her music, and it doesn't matter what I think of it either - the matter I wish to address here transcends music and comes to rest in the very fabric of humanity. 

Upon announcement of the tour, many people took to social media to voice their opinions. And good for them, opinions are what social media is all about, right? Well, up to a point...

The comments from the public were a sight to see indeed. Occasionally, someone made a remark along the lines of "Ah hells yea, I'm gonna be first in line for tickets, rocking my over-the-top outfit and crazy hair-do, bring on December!" However, the general response was overwhelmingly negative. Comment such as "She's awful, she's destroying music" are fine and were to be expected, but what on Earth gives any human being, under any circumstance, the right to label another human being as a 'Satanist' without having having met said person in their life? It is simply not on. Yes, she's odd, yes, her videos are more than a little strange, but devil-worship? Really? I'd heard such things before but I had no idea of the magnitude of these stories. People seemed genuinely scared: "Please don't let her in the country" said one. Are we about to take a leaf out of Jakarta's book, and not allow the woman to perform? Have we not moved past this? 

If you are impressionable enough to be influenced into worshipping the 'devil' because of a song or music video, then you have some serious problems in your life. I like to think that most people are able to distinguish reality from fantasy, but perhaps I'm simply forgetting the uproar Harry Potter caused years ago, when it allegedly glamourised witchcraft.  

A couple of centuries ago, someone may have been sentenced to death for allegations of witchcraft of devil-worpship...would everyone still be carrying on like this if it meant putting someone to death? Have they thought about that?

"She's coming to harvest souls for the devil!" Read another online comment. Um, forgive me for my ignorance, but if the devil wanted some souls, wouldn't he just harvest his own damned souls (excuse the pun)? Does he really need a popstar to do it for him?

The Illuminati were also not left out of the storm of backlash. '"Have you never heard of the Illuminati? She's evil." Yeah, I've heard of the Illuminati, buddy, but are you sure you have? Social media users unable to string a sentence together without resorting to SMS speak - "plz guyz y u let ha cm in dis country, she evil plz she da devil" - are going to be hard-pressed to convince me that they have enough knowledge of the Illuminati to pass a valid opinion. 

Perhaps these people think that they can say whatever they want because so-called 'celebrities' are so far removed from them that they cannot be affected by their hurtful and hateful comments - trust me, these people are wrong. Perhaps they don't see celebrities as people - trust me, they are people just like you and I (excuse the pun).

Anyway, I'm a firm believer that music can save or change lives (I won't go into the story of how my becoming a fan of The Killers changed the very course of my life), and if even one person in this world's life has been improved even marginally by this woman, who are you to call her evil? If a smile has been put on one face, surely that's enough of an achievement? Think about it. 

I think it's great that everyone has opinions, but I suggest you think before you pass comments about other human beings. Before you call someone else 'evil', take a minute to consider how 'evil' it is to judge someone you don't even know. 

The Bee Gees: Immortal To Me

I'm sure you've all heard by now that Robin Gibb of the Bee Gees passed away recently after a battle with cancer. All very tragic indeed, but I'm not going to talk about how this is such a loss to the world of music- we all know it is, the fact is obvious and does not need to be re-stated. Instead, I'm taking this opportunity to go all sentimental about the memories that the group's songs hold for me..

My grandparents have always loved the Bee Gees. Ever since I was about six years old, I can remember strains of 'Massachusetts' filtering through the house, those high-pitched vocals slightly sharp on a young ear, but never to be forgotten. I didn't understand the song, but eventually I started singing along anyway. I think I provided some fun family entertainment with my performances of 'Got To Get A Message To You'.

Fast forward a good few years, I'm a teenager, and the Bee Gees audio tape has been replaced by a DVD. They're still a firm favourite in my grandparents' house, so I hear them every weekend. I'm in that rebellious stage of adolescence during which I have to pretend that the commercial rubbish on the radio is better than anything my 60-something grandparents have on offer, but in truth I know that it's not. 'Immortality' is the song that sticks out now - although it will still be several years before I embrace it and truly understand it. And now - eight years later- this is the song that holds so many damn memories. It's an embodiment of everything that was good about that year. It's low-budget horror movies on a Friday night, it's chocolate, followed by chocolate cake, followed by chocolate mousse, it's pancakes from the flea market on a Saturday morning, it's that quick trip to the shops on a Saturday afternoon, it's endless cups of tea, it's the walk to feed the stray cats. It's everything that goes on still, even though I am no longer a part of it. It's Immortality.

I guess what I'm saying is embrace every moment, embrace every song. For all too soon you'll find yourself bopping on the dancefloor to 'Party Rockers', after a vodka-fueled binge, and you'll be happy, because life will be great - so much greater than it was when you were a teenager. And although you'll know it's over and that it can never happen again, there will be times when all you'll wish is that you were back in your grandparents' living room, stroking the cat you'd had since you were four, and listening to the Bee Gees.

The Wailers Live at Trinity Cape Town

There was only one reason that a self-confessed uncool kid such as myself would have been found at Trinity Night Club on a Friday evening: a band. So who was it this time? The Parlotones? CrashCarBurn? Perhaps someone had dragged me along – kicking and screaming – to see Zebra & Giraffe? But not, it was not any kind of rock/alternative band at all – it was The Wailers performing in aid of charity RhinoProtect. Yes, as in Bob Marley and The Wailers, just minus Bob Marley. Now, I’m all about frilly pink dresses and high heels, and I don’t have a single rasta/hippie bone in my body, so what exactly was I doing here?  Read back a few sentences, I implore thee… it was the damn Wailers, for goodness sake! Now I hate to quote Lost (jokes, I love to quote Lost), but who doesn’t like Bob Marley?! I don’t care who you are, don’t even pretend that you haven’t jammed to ‘Jammin'’ or swayed back and forth to ‘One Love’. The Wailers were guaranteed to put on an amazing performance, plus the fact that reggae’s not for cheerleaders meant that I’d be spared the horrors of having to deal with Cool Kids all night.

Opening acts Fox Comet and The Rudimentals put on a pretty impressive performance themselves. Not my usual cup of tea, I couldn’t help but be entertained by The Rudimentals, an eclectic group composed of a couple of rappers, a hat-wearing, beard-sporting guitarist, a couple of sax players straight out of a 1940’s jazz band, and a few other assorted members. I wasn’t really following the lyrics – was the guy even singing, or was he rapping? – but it was cool anyway.

The Wailers took to the stage late in the night, and by then I was thoroughly regretting my choice in footwear: what was I thinking wearing high heeled boots? (I tell you what I was thinking, I was thinking that it was hell of a cold outside). My friends discarded their shoes, but I wasn’t that brave – I was wearing socks adorned with cat’s faces, and yes, I do still have some pride left. But anyway, The Wailers…

…were awesome. After an instrumental intro, I was left wondering if I had the complete wrong end of the stick here – perhaps I was not going to hear all my favourite reggae songs…after all, Bob was their singer right, and he’s kinda, well, dead. But I should not have feared, for the second song had lyrics alright! Belted out by a couple of dreadlocked Rastas, the music made me feel as though as I was on some beach in the Caribbean, rather than in a dimly-lit nightclub in Cape Town. When they spoke in those fantastic Jamaican accents, I could barely understand a word they were saying – something about Africa perhaps? Cape Town? Rhinos? – but as far as I’m concerned they could have kept talking all night.

Sure enough, some Bob favourites soon followed, ‘I Shot The Sheriff”, “Get Up, Stand Up”, ‘Jammin’” …it was impossible not to love the performance! I couldn’t believe my luck when the first song of the encore turned out to the ‘Redemption Song’, one of my absolute favourites. It was a peaceful, slow version of the song, performed only by the lead singer and guitarist, and it was beautiful. The crowd joined in enthusiastically “won’t you help to sing these songs of freedom/ coz all I ever had/ redemption songs”.

The band are possessed of an infectious stage presence, constantly interacting, and leaving the crowd always wanting more. They fist-pumped, ran in place on stage, and headbanged those dreadlocks all over the place, and I wondered how they weren’t completely exhausted by the time the show ended.

In my opinion, they were the perfect choice of band to perform in aid of a charity such as RhinoProtect. The Wailers are all about peace, love and unity, things we could all do with a little more of. I left the show feeling calm, renewed and ready to celebrate life…of course, all that calmness may simply have been the result of breathing in the second-hand fumes of some substances that weren’t strictly legal… 

MUSIC THEN AND NOW: A LYRICAL ANALYSIS

It’s no secret that I’m a fan of oldies music…play me something from the ‘40s or ‘50s and I’ll be in my happy place. I know it’s not normal for someone my age, but before you tell me that the cure is a healthy dose of David Guetta, stop to think for a second about what he’s actually singing about. There’s no question about the fact that lyrics have deteriorated hugely over the past few decades. Yes, there are still people who manage to write great things, but these are few and far between: “Is there still magic in the midnight sun, or did you leave it back in ’61, in the cadence of a young man’s eyes…”; “I lit a fire that wouldn’t go out, until it consumed the walls and roof of this house, until all I remember was burning away…”; “So lying underneath those stormy skies, she said ‘oooh, I know the sun must set to rise’ “. But on the whole, commercial music nowadays lacks greatly in the lyrical department. Don’t believe me? Please see my examples below:

Missing someone:

Then: “Each day I pray for evening just to be with you, together at last at twilight time.” (The Platters, Twilight Time)

Now: “Girl you know I miss ya, I just wanna kiss ya but I can’t right now so baby kiss me thru da fone.” (Soulja Boy, Kiss Me Thru The Phone)

Heartbreak:

Then: “Why does the sun go on shining, why does the sea rush to shore, don't they know it's the end of the world, cause you don't love me anymore.” (The Carpenters - covered by everyone else- The End of the World)

Now: “I was like baby, baby, baby, ooooh, like baby, baby baby, oooh, like baby, baby, baby, oooh, I thought you’d always be mine.” (Justin Bieber, Baby)

Looking for love…:

Then: “Each morning I get up I die a little, can barely stand on my feet, take a look in the mirror and cry…can anybody find me somebody to love.” (Queen, Somebody To Love)

Now: “Where dem girls at, whoooohoooo” (David Guetta, Where Dem Girls At)

Lack of money:

Then: “So how can you tell me you’re lonely, and say for you that the sun doesn’t shine, oh let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London, I’ll show you something to make you change your mind.” (Roger Whitaker, Streets of London)

Now: “I need a dollar, dollar, dollar is what I need.” (Aloe Blacc, I Need A Dollar)

Falling for someone:

Then: “Love is a burning thing, and it makes a fiery ring, bound by wild desire, I fell into a ring of fire.” (Johnny Cash, Ring of Fire)

Now: “You spin my head right round, right round, when you go down, when you go down down.” (Flo-Rida, Right Round)

Partying:

Then: “The warden threw a party in the county jail, the prison band was there and they began to wail, the band was jumpin' and the joint began to swing, you should've heard them knocked-out jailbirds sing.” (Elvis, Jailhouse Rock)

Now: “It’s Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday.” (Rebecca Black, Friday)

Gambling analogies:
Then: "You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run, you never count your money when you're sitting at the table, there'll be time enough for counting when the dealing's done." (Kenny Rogers - The Gambler)
Now: "Shut up and put your money where your mouth is." (Katy Perry - Waking Up In Vegas)

Drinking:

Then: “Well, I woke up Sunday morning, with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt. And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad, so I had one more for dessert.” (Kris Kristofferson, Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down)
Now: “I got a hangover, whoa, I been drinkin’ too much fo’ sho…” (Flo-Rida, Hangover)

OK, let’s forget about that last one, clearly not much change there…

I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the more recent songs - or, by extension, people who like them- I'm just saying that the differences in lyrics are worth consideration next time someone rolls their eyes at me for getting excited when I hear Johnny Cash. 

Relationships Based On Music Taste: Yay or Nay?

They say that the basis for a good relationship is common interests. A guy who likes to surf would be perfect for a girl who likes to surf, because then they could talk about surfing every time an awkward silence cropped up. Now extend this idea a little, and I’m sure you’ll agree with me that a Coldplay*-lover such as myself could never date a guy who likes Avicci*. A guy who liked Avicci would never understand my love of Coldplay etc, and seeing 90% of my interests lie in music, that would be a problem. I’ve spoken before about music and the search for popularity, blah blah blah, how popular kids don’t like Coldplay, whatever. And it’s true, cool kids don’t like Coldplay, cool kids like Avicci. I like Coldplay, and therefore I’m not cool. Anyway, coolness aside, it would make sense then for me to date another Coldplay fan, right? WRONG.

Now I don’t want to launch into the whole story…oh who am I kidding, I totally do. Upon seeing one of my best friends for the first time in two months, she had barely greeted me when she started babbling on about some guy I simply had to meet. “He likes Coldplay too, you’re perfect for each other!” In the end, we weren't, but hey. It was no one’s fault, and no hard feelings, but hmmph, there went the fantastic idea of dating a fellow Coldplay fan.

The experience made me realize that a mutual love of Coldplay is not enough to unite two people. Yeah, it’s great to be able to discuss the new Coldplay single when an Awkward Silence arises, but the fact that such silences even exist makes the whole thing a little redundant, doesn’t it? Let me explain. Say I love Coldplay and my boyfriend doesn’t… so what?! He should still be willing to listen to me go on about them just as much as I want! If he won’t do that, why the Hell am I even dating him in the first place?

I still don’t think I could date a guy who listens to Avicci and David Guetta thought. Music taste is a reflection of who we are as people, and although 99% of my friends are the cool kids who listen to that kind of dance music, I maintain that I am not one of them. So if my future boyfriend likes Nirvana, and I’d rather listen to The Killers, then so be it. As long as he’s not nursing a Flo-Rida-style hangover every Saturday morning, I’m happy.

*Coldplay is simply an example of ‘un-cool’ music, everything alternative or rock, in other words. Avicci is an example of all the ‘cool kid’ mainstream popular dance music. 

The Parlotones: Cold, Wet, Awesome.

I had seen The Parlotones on various wine farms, in a stadium, in an arena, in a tent, and in 3D, but never in a setting quite like that of the final Kirstenbosch Summer Concert of the season. On 8 April, the rain was pouring down, and Cape Town’s die-hard Parlotones fans were attempting to stay dry under trees, umbrellas, and plastic bags. They could have sacrificed the price of their tickets, headed for their warm, dry cars and gone home, but no one did.

The rain took a break for the set of opening band, the Ice Project. The Pretoria-based band impressed me from the start, beginning with their neat attire of shirts, waistcoats and suspenders. This indie band were definitely appropriate openers for The Parlotones, and although I struggled to hear all of frontman Cobus Bester’s vocals, the songs were catchy and enjoyable, with the definite highlight being ‘Rollercoaster’ their most well-known song, having received recognition on the MK channel.

But those who had already folded up their umbrellas were in for a surprise as soon as the main act arrived on stage. Opening with ‘Stars Fall Down’, The Parlotones soon had much of the crowd on their feet, and the band’s enthusiasm was definitely not affected by the miserable weather.

Never a band to stick to writing songs on one topic, the deep ‘Remember When’ had everyone contemplating the idea of growing up and leaving the safe childhood world of imagination, whilst the sickly sweet ‘I’ll Be There’ had even the most anti-love audience members proclaiming that “Even if you’re rich, even if you’re poor, every breath you breathe I’ll be there for you.”

“This song is a bit of a talisman for the bad weather.” Said Kahn Morbee at one stage, resulting in an immediate shout of “Sun Comes Out!” from one excited audience member. These guys sure do have fans! Indeed, there was something magically ironic about this song being performed in the pouring rain.

Some new songs were in store for the lucky audience, including the explosive ‘Soul and Body’, and the – dare I say it – slightly country-inspired ‘Honey’. The new songs are less pop-ish, they’re slightly darker, and they sound fantastic. ‘Save Your Best Bits’ is one of those songs that you can hear once and feel like you’ve known it forever, it is without a doubt The Parlotones’ next big hit.

The only issues were a few missed lyrics and some heavy feedback on the bass, which was sorted out almost immediately, on the whole, however, the band were flawless. After a 90 minute set – during which the grass field at Kirstenbosch had turned into a pool of mud – The Parlotones concluded with the massive ‘Push Me To The Floor’, and left their 5000 soaking wet fans full of anticipation for the release of their new album. 

An adapted version of this article appears on www.whatsonincapetown.com.

United Kingdom, Here I Come!

On a Sunday night in late February, I found myself awake at 11pm. This in itself was highly abnormal, and even more so was the fact that I was at home in my bedroom, forcibly stopping myself from falling into the divine world of slumber. Why on Earth was I doing this? Well, the time had finally come to the V Festival 2012 line up to be announced, and a sneaky rumour was doing the rounds on the internet, proclaiming that my favourite boys in the world, The Killers, would be headlining the show. No, surely not! I’d made myself a promise over two years ago that I would be at their first show when they came back from hiatus. Unfortunately, annoying things like university had gotten in the way last year, and this was the first time that the opportunity was to present itself at a time when I was actually able to go! Oooh!

So, when the announcement came that they really were going to headline, I expressed about as much enthusiasm as I could for the time of night: I bbm-ed my roommate so that this news was the first thing she’s see in the morning, then fell asleep with echoes of “LONDOOOOOOOON” pounding through my tired brain.

A few days later, all of my ideas were in place. Everything was in perfect order in my head, and now all I had to do was acquire the festival tickets, the flights and the accommodation, and I’d be on my way in a few short months!

Tickets were to go on sale at 12pm my time, and thus from 11.15am, I had found myself refreshing ticketmaster.co.uk’s website at least every couple of seconds, just in case tickets came on sale early. The V Festival website was also open, as was twitter, so that I could proceed to freak out with my fellow Victims.  I was only slightly nervous, still thinking that the entire thing was a ridiculous idea, or that my mother’s agreement to it was going to turn out to be some hugely twisted prank.  But eventually, the ticket sales opened, and I entered my information with shaking fingers. The timer at the bottom of the page, counting down to the expiry of my tickets was not helping my nerves at all. I entered the credit card number incorrectly three times, before realizing my mistake, and clicking on ‘proceed’ exactly as the offer expired. Fail. By now it was a couple of minutes into ticket sales, and the website was completely flooded with other people feeling just like I was. Now I had to wait over ten minutes to try again, during which time my mind was in complete mental shutdown. What if this was my last chance to see them again? What if they didn’t return to SA on their tour, and what if I couldn’t make any of the other shows? What if, what if, what if…

By the time I was able to try again, I got an error message saying that tickets were sold out. “Try again” said my Victims friends. I tried again. Still sold out. Again. Sold out. I gave up.

Eventually realizing that perhaps the other venue was not sold out, I gave that one a try. An extremely stressful five or so minutes later, I’d successfully entered the credit card details and pressed ‘proceed’ on tickets for the second performance. After printing out my receipt, I still was not convinced that I’d actually gotten the tickets. I screamed down the phone to my mom, but it still had not hit me properly. Neither had the fact that I was also to see Snow Patrol, whom I had been wanting to see live since 2009!

I still don’t think it has quite sunk it. I’m seeing The Killers. I’m seeing Snow Patrol. I’m going to England. Bring on August! 

Taxi Violence and Machineri at Kirstenbosch

Enthralled by the beauty of Cape Town and amazed by the talent of local artists: not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon. I arrive at Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens at around 4pm on Sunday the 19^th of February, armed with a Hello Kitty picnic blanket and a chocolate Steri Stumpie… taking life seriously, wasn’t I? Although slightly worried that the Hardcore Rock Fans might judge me, I soon find out that this is not the case at all. The atmosphere amongst the couple of thousand people gathered on the lawns in the Botanical Gardens is nothing if not completely relaxed.

The sun is still high in the sky, and the temperature at least 5000^oC when three-piece band Machineri takes to the stage. Composed of guitarist and lead vocalist Sannie Fox, guitarist Andre Geldenhuys and drummer Daniel Huxham, the band’s sound is pure blues-rock…well, as pure as such a mixed genre can be. Their guitar riffs and Fox’s vocals scream ‘blues’, whilst the drums bring in the rock elements which result in the band often being considered rock. Fox’s voice stays strong the entire set, and their catchy tunes have many in the crowd bopping their heads in time to the music. Some energy is injected into the band’s somewhat low-key performance when they are joined on stage by vocalist Inge Beckmann, who air-guitars her way through an upbeat number.

Taxi Violence appear on stage just as the sun begins to sink behind the mountain. “We’re Taxi Violence, and you’re here to see us, give yourself a round of applause”, frontman George van der Spuy jokes good-naturedly, before launching into “I Went Down to the River”, accompanied by Inge Beckmann, as well as the shouts of some very excited audience members. The band’s talent is immediately evident, and by the second song, “Devil ‘n’ Pistol”, most of the audience is tapping their feet, clapping, and resisting the potent urge to head bang. This is also my personal favourite of the set, I love the lyrics which incorporate some blues and country themes. Van de Spuy continues to engage with the audience throughout the set, cracking jokes, and telling us the stories behind some of the songs. I think that this makes all the difference in the world, the constant banter makes the crowd feel connected to the band, they just seem so friendly and genuinely likeable. I am also unable to fault them performance-wise, they switch effortlessly between the country-infused “Between the Heavens and the Deep Blue Sea” and the pure rock of “The Turn”. They also perform their first hit, “Untie Yourself” - during which the cello and keyboards are positively haunting – and throw in a cover of traditional folk song “God’s Gonna Cut You Down” for good measure (much to the distaste of the very grumpy and very vocal man behind me). It’s not often that I discover a band live, but despite never having consciously listened to Taxi Violence before, I felt myself hoping that they’d come back for an encore after the show. I truly think that this one performance has turned me into a fan. It’s very difficult to compare this band to anyone else, or describe who they sound like, because, well, they sound like themselves. George van der Spuy along with guitarist Rian Zietsman, bassist Jason Ling, and drummer Louis Nel make up extremely talented rock band.

As I leave the venue, I’m left wondering why more concerts aren’t outdoors. I can think of no better way to spend an afternoon than surrounded by picturesque scenery, good vibes and true talent.

If Real Life Was High School...

Ah, high school. Gone, but not forgotten, I’m afraid. It can be said that high school is a kind of trial-run for the Real World, and that the same stereotypes assigned to teenagers carry on throughout the rest of life. Now, we all idolize our favourite band members, but if real life was high school, just where would they all fit in? No matter how awesome everyone from Brandon Flowers to Nathan Followill seem, I’m certain that they don’t all sit atop life’s ‘cool’ pile. So where would our favourite band boys fit in, if real life was high school?

Chris Martin: he’s a nice guy, good-natured, cares about stuff like making trade fair, and likes to sing. Nerd alert or what? There’s no way that the footballers would allow Chris at their table in the cafeteria. He’s the sweetheart that all the girls would adore as a friend, but at whom the jocks would look down their noses. Don’t underestimate him, though; one look into those blue eyes, and even the cheerleaders would be swooning.

Adam Levine: Whilst also not the footballer type, Adam would definitely be a popular kid. Not wanting to take part in any violent sport for fear of harming his good looks, Adam would spend his time clowning around in the back of the class, while miraculously still getting good grades and never being in trouble. His secret? Flashing that winning smile at Life’s teachers would never fail to get him out of any pickle.

Nathan Followill: Ah, here we go: the jock. Nathan’s effortless Coolness would ensure that he was constantly surrounded by a gang of admirers. Never shy to speak his mind, anyone who annoyed Nathan would be met with a typically scathing comment (let’s hope Glee creator Ryan Murphy wasn’t the principle, or fist fights may ensue). Causes of frequent stints in detention would most likely be bringing beer to school, or attempting to engage staff and students in golf tournaments during lessons.

Jared Followill: Let’s just say that this boy’s Tough Guy act isn’t fooling me. While he may slam lesser humans against lockers and demand their lunch money, he’s likely to shove it back into his victim’s pocket when they’re not looking. Never missing an opportunity for a photograph, Jared will pout and fluff his hair in front of the mirror for hours, but when he says he has a hot date with a cheerleader, you’d probably just find him at home on the couch with his mom.

Brandon Flowers: the sparkly outfits, the feathers, and the Vegas obsession would make Bran head of the Glee club. He’d be brilliant at anything he did, and wouldn’t be afraid to let everyone know it. Uninterested in the goings-on of the Cool crowd, Brandon would spend his break times writing songs, and gluing feathers to his school uniform.

(Credit for the idea for this story goes to Nerissa Naidoo)