London 2012 Part I: Take-Off and Landing

Before visiting the UK, I was told many lies about the place. The one that sticks out in my mind is “The Brits don’t drive, no one in England has a car.” Alright then. It would clearly be entirely possible to navigate London on the underground, but after booking tickets to see a certain favourite band of mine in Leeds, I began to get a little bit worried. Especially when I checked google maps (after the tickets were paid for) and realized that it was a four hour car journey from London. I flew into a panic when I found out that train tickets were no les than 70 Pounds per person for the round trip, and I really didn’t fancy spending 7 hours on a coach to save some money. Call me a snob, but I’m not used to being without a car. And so the hire car plan was born, and I must say it was the best idea I had ever had. Because the truth is, the Brits do drive, but enough about that for now…

The day had finally arrived. I’d been planning this trip for absolute months, but I had never thought that it would all actually come together. I mean, who in their right mind flies to another country for the sake of their favourite band? I bet there are people who aren’t even keen to drive from the Northern Suburbs to Green Point for Linkin Park! I know people judged me heavily for flying to Joburg twice within three weeks last year for Coldplay and Kings of Leon, but they were some of the best weekends ever, and anyway, YOLO so haters gon’ hate, right?

By the morning of the 10^th of August, I was all packed and ready, and I headed off to work with a smile on my face. Just a few hours and I would be on my way to the airport to board a flight to Dubai and then another to London. Was this really happening? I’d checked and re-checked everything a couple of million times, had all my reference numbers, all my ID, the cards used to purchase the tickets, my passport, and everything else I might need for the next two weeks. My suitcase was only half full – although I would later find out that bringing back 16.4kg of shopping was slightly ambitious to say the least.

But things never quite go smoothly in my life, and so by 10pm I was to be found dashing from the office after the shuttle service called to say that the road to the airport was blocked and that if I wanted to make my flight at 6pm I’d better get there immediately. (Dear Paul, if you’re reading this, I really am sorry for leaving so early, thank you for not shouting at me.)

Madness ensues, but eventually we make it to the airport – with only 5 and a half hours to spare. Goodness me, what am I going to do in an airport for 5 and a half hours? We spend a few minutes taking photos to document the process, then head off to the check-in counter to try and get rid of our luggage – but the attendant looks at us like we’ve completely lost it and says we can only check in at 2pm. Fantastic. We’re left with no option but to drag out extremely heavy - and extremely colourful -  suitcases to Spur with us, where we sit for ages eating lunch.

I’m not sure how we managed to waste two and a half hours in Spur, but we did it, and eventually it was check-in time. I have a boarding pass! It has my name on it, and says CT à DBX. Ah yeah!

At passport control I feel like a criminal. I know I’m not doing anything wrong, but I hold my breath as the dude stamps my passport. There is still so much that could go wrong and result in me not being right in front of Brandon Flowers’ face exactly a week from now. But all goes smoothly and then I’m sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair in the departures lounge, attempting to read my new Stephen King novel and munching away on a chocolate. I’m also counting down the minutes and trying to speed them up using only my mind. Hey, it was worth a try, right?

Eventually it’s boarding time, but the flight’s been delayed twenty minutes, and it feels like 20 years. Also, I’m exhausted. The plane, as it turns out, is well worth the wait. I even have my own little screen where I can choose from a huge selection of movies, tv series and music. Last time I flew internationally, I’d had a tiny set of headphones, and a button on the arm rest of my chair which allowed me to listen to Britney Spears on a loop – sometimes ‘Crazy’ still haunts me at night. So after consuming a decent supper – Thai chicken green curry – I select The Hunger Games, but Katniss isn’t even on fire yet by the time I’ve fallen into a restless slumber. I think I sleep intermittently for around 5 out of the 9 hours, and when I put my seat back in the upright position, my neck feels like it’s about to cause my head to part company with the rest of my body. Ouch. Remind me to get one of those blow-up pillows next time.

The pilot is saying we’re landing shortly but all I can see outside my window is a vast expanse of …. Well…. Nothing at all. Dubai is apparently 100km ahead when I finally start seeing the rivers of lava that I know to be illuminated roads. Aha. Civillisation! A touchdown that I barely even feel, and then we’re walking into the airport, and although we’re in one of those covered tunnel things, the desert heat hits me like a ton of bricks. It’s just after 3am, and the temperature outside is a good 37 degrees. Coming from 12 degrees in Cape Town, it’s been a while since I’ve felt warmth. But warmth is one thing, this is another altogether.

*click* A photo of the sign that says ‘Welcome to Dubai’, another of the LCD board displaying connecting flights. The security process which follows is arduous but effective (I hope). I mean, they even make me take my shoes off!

If you’ve ever seen Shelly Centre on Christmas Eve, you know what ‘busy’ means… now take that and multiply it by at least, oh, say 1000. That’s what Dubai airport is like. At frikken 3am. It’s literally difficult to walk – there are just so many people. Plus I’m hearing languages I’ve never even heard in my life. I’m relieved to catch a snatch of Afrikaans. And there’s Burger King! I haven’t seen on of those in 11 years. And there’s a Starbucks! I giggle and think of Rob, The Killers’ drum tech and lover of Starbucks lattes. I should tweet him. I wonder if there’s free wi-fi here? That would become my standard question for the next 18 days, and luckily the answer was usually ‘yes’. I believe that Dubai airport was where I first started to get fit – we walked for at least two kilometers to get to our boarding gate. Fine… maybe it was slightly less, but it was 3am, OK?! People-watching at the boarding gate must have been the most interesting experience of my trip up to then. There were those who were unmistakably students, passed out fast asleep on and under chairs, there were business men on their laptops, and there was the guy covered in a blanket, who was laying so still that we assumed he was a piece of luggage until someone who may have been his girlfriend kicked him and he moved.

When we boarded, the sun had come up, and the temperature had probably risen again, but by this time I was so excited that it could have been snowing pink glitter and I probably wouldn’t have even noticed. Get. Me. To. England. Now. Thanks.

On this flight, I occupied myself by watching a seemingly endless stream of episodes of Downton Abbey, until the English Channel was visible beneath me, and I could see tiny white things which may have been windmills in the water, and we were coming in towards the coast and I had to listen to The Killers, because I was doing this for them, and then we were over England and I was listening to Smile Like You Mean It, and my heart rate was accelerating, and we were finally almost there! And then we were flying over the country side and the little farms below all looked so adorable and it was like a green patchwork quilt below me (but I didn’t see any towns, they all looked like tiny villages, what was up with that?) and then the pilot’s saying we’re about to land, but why the hell haven’t I seen the Tower of London or Buckingham Palace or the Olympic Stadium below me yet? Just when I’m starting to wonder if Gatwick airport is out on someone’s farm – or if the United Kingdom is some giant hoax and I’m really back home in KZN – a runway appears and we land quickly. That’s it then. I’ve just touched down in London Town. 

BattleBorn Ready!

No band is perfect, but The Killers come pretty close. That said, there is at least one song from each of their albums that I honestly don’t like. On Hot Fuss, it’s ‘Believe Me Natalie’, on Sam’s Town, it’s ‘My List’, on Day & Age, it’s ‘Goodnight, Travel Well’. What? Stop judging me. I bet there are tonnes of people out there who don’t like ‘A Dustland Fairytale.” No, wait, bad example.  Really bad example.

Anyway, BattleBorn isn’t exactly out yet, but I’m a terrible fan and I listened to it already. What? The fools wanted to put previews on their website and let iTunes stream the whole thing. It’s not my fault I’m not in the USA or Canada and couldn’t listen to the official iTunes stream. Anyway, I’ve listened to the album – YOLO, right? (Sorry for calling you ‘fools’, my babies, I didn’t mean it, I love you all kthanksbye).

I had some mixed feelings after listening to the short clips on the website. After hearing Miss Atomic Bomb live twice, I had expected it to be my favorite track on the album, but I was sorely disappointed with the studio version in the clip. Meh. Nothing can ever beat a live verison. The next disappointment was ‘The Rising Tide’. I didn’t expect it to be amazing, but the backing track is purely grating… it’s almost as bad as Princess of China. I realized it was going to be far too difficult to pass judgement on the album without hearing the songs in full.

Roll on the next day and… (I’m not reviewing track-by-track, these are just the ones I have an opinion on so far, I’ve only listened to the full album about three times, and I can’t even tell some of the tack apart yet, that will come.)

Goodness. Freaking. Gracious. Miss Atomic Bomb is suddenly up there with River and Dustland as one of my favourites! It’s amazing how much better it sounds when I’m hearing the full version instead of a 20 second clip. Basically, I want to put this song on repeat and listen to it for the rest of my life. “Racing shadows in the moonlight, through the desert on a hot night, and for a second there we’d won, yeah we were innocent and young.’ Oh that line destroys me! I’m in danger of becoming an incoherent mess on the floor everytime I hear it. Can I get it tattooed on me? Can I get it engraved into my brain? Painted on my wall (ooh, there’s an idea)? Can I name my mother’s newest adopted stray cat Miss Atomic Bomb?

Wait, what do you mean there are other tracks on the album? Oh. Okay then. I’ll move on if I must.

I stick by what I said about Flesh and Bone after seeing it live: it’s like something out of a horror movie, and that’s a good thing! That creepy intro, the almost-menacing shouts of “flesh and bo-one”… I’m assaulted by images of car chases, street fighters and general violence. It’s brilliant. Please, Killers, continue to assault my senses. I will not complain.

Runaways – storming, epic, a better set-opener than Human could ever wish to be.  Oh Brandon, if you must run away, can I come with?

A Matter of Time is another matter of pure perfection. I swear I hear some ‘50s/’60s influences… Brandon croons about Charleston Avenue and vacant starlight motels like he’s Danny Williams or something – that line wouldn’t be out of place in any song from that era, and yet it’s such an upbeat song that it might even make it onto the radio one day.

The Rising Tide is slightly better in full version than the clip. Thank goodness that horrible grating synth only kicks in during the chorus. I wish there was a bit more of a kick during the first verse: some extra drum and guitar bits when Brandon’s vocals pause, but I do like the lyrics. Everytime Brandon starts going on about neon lights I can’t help but giggle. So for that reason, I’ll stop hating on this poor song.

Deadlines and Commitments, however, is another story altogether. Oh, just make it go away! Can I scratch it off of my disc, when I get the CD? I know, I’m being melodramatic, it’s not that bad, and I’ll probably love it by tomorrow, but for now, it really gets on my damn nerves. So-so lyrics that sound like they’d fit in with a really bad 80’s comedy-drama about stressed people in an office.  Just my opinion. There’s that song that I don’t like, I told you there was one on every album.

From Here On Out makes my soul so unbelievably happy. Yes, The Killers are cowboys at heart! Go on then, boys, grab those hats, mount your horses and gallop off into the setting desert sun. Grab Johnny Cash while you’re on your way (I know he’s dead, I am just joking), because he’d fit this song perfectly. Yes! County! How often is it that a stadium rock band (as missy Lauren says, a commercial band) makes a country song – and makes it well? Not very often. Let’s just say that if The Killers brought out a country album, they’d become the darlings of the genre faster than Kanye West can say “Imma let you finish”.

Be Still is lovely, quiet, calm, unexpected and beautiful. This is the part of the album where the band makes all of the people with hearts cry their little eyes out before….

BattleBorn bludgeons us into submission (yeah, I stole that line from a review of the Leeds show, it’s appropriately descriptive). What a way to end an album! I’m reeling as though I’ve just been to a concert! What an epic song. It builds slowly and then attacks the listener in a crescendo of crashing drums, guitars and vocals. It’s perfect. Yes, they’ve channeled their inner-Springsteen, but I swear they could teach The Boss a thing or two.

It’s an album of power-rock, if that’s even a genre. And if it wasn’t, The Killers have just invented it. They are flawless in vocals and instruments. Mark, Dave and Ronnie’s instruments build on each other, to be overlayed by the most distinctive voice in rock… and Brandon’s vocals are utterly impeccable.

[Edit: after 24 hours:I should really calm down, listening to one album ten times in 24 hours is probably not entirely healthy, but I’m completely addicted!] Basically, no one can ever tell me that The Killers aren’t the best band in the world, because they’ve just gone and proved that they are. In a world where even Coldplay had to become more mainstream in order to sell records, these four Nevada natives put a country song on a rock album. Enough said. The Killers win at life. 

The. Killers. Are. Back.

Finally! The band that brought you Mr Brightside and Human have released a new song that’s not a U2 cover or a Christmas song! It’s truly a miraculous event in the world of The Victims.

It’s almost cruel to yourself to become a fan of a band immediately before they go on a hiatus of over two years, but that’s exactly what I did. Now I’m not going to go off on a The-Killers-concert-changed-my-life tangent, as much as I’d like to, but suffice it to say that this is the first new material they’ve released since I’ve been a fan, and I’m not disappointed!

Excitement had been building in the fan community for several weeks before the release on the 10^th of July… we’d even seen the single artwork, and been treated to an album preview in the form of a video clip. It was no surprise then, that when the song leaked mere hours before the official release, the fans were torn. To listen or not to listen? Personally, I am fully against leaks like this… in my opinion they completely, well, kill, the excitement of everyone listening together for the first time, whether it be on radio, online, or by any other means.  But yes, I am a terrible person, and yes, I listened to the leak.  At work, even. In my office. Through my headphones. Ignoring anyone who attempted to speak to me for those 4 minutes.

Upon pressing ‘play’, I became confused for a few seconds: it seemed as though someone had simply labeled Crossfire as ‘Runaways’, and was now sitting back and laughing whilst the Victims had a mild panic attack. No, really, the intro is identical to that of Brandon’s solo single, Crossfire! That, however, is not a bad thing. But ahhhh, then the vocals kick in, the drums, the bass, and guitars, and The Killers are back, just as though they’d never left the world of music at all. Oh, it’s such a beautiful feeling, when your favourite band restore your faith in them! I had worried that the song might not be that great, that I’d love it anyway, but only because it was The Killers. I can assure you that that is not the case at all. Runaways is a sweeping track of epic proportions, combining the electro vibes of Hot Fuss, the grandeur of Sam’s Town and the catchiness of Day & Age, then adding a brand new element of power-rock to this anthemic song. Yes, audiences will belt this out in stadiums, in arenas, and in huge parks. Yes, I will be one of them!  No, the song will not be a radio hit, but who cares? Most people who listen to mainstream radio have no taste in music at all, and that’s their loss.

Unlike Coldplay did last year, The Killers have not completely changed their sound for this new single, but why should they? If they have the perfect formula for music, why change it, right? I’m glad that they haven’t felt the need to go mainstream, sell out, or try anything particularly strange. And somehow, 99% of the reactions to the song seem extremely positive. Even NME didn’t have a bad word to say about Runaways…now that’s when you know you’ve done something right.   

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.