Yesterday lunch-time I went for a walk round town and I met such a beautiful sight.
She must have been six or seven, curly hair flying as she grasped hold of her grandfather's hand. She was skipping so joyfully as she raced up the hill. The smile on her face said it all. The joy and innocence of youth! The love of her grandfather beside!
And the tap, tap, tap, tap of her white stick as she danced and skipped. She was blind. But she could see...
I wonder how many others who walked that same street could see as well as her.
Saturday 29 August 2015
Saturday 22 August 2015
Latitude 2015 .. the curtain falls
the rain comes during the night, but fortunately not hard enough to spoil the last day of Latitude 2015. It's not long before the sun returns, drying the fields before they have the chance to be churned into mud.
Today we've decided to stay put at the Obelisk Arena as it boasts the best line-up of the festival by some margin, even if they're all well-known names. Mrs electrofried bags a couple of seats in one of the stands at the back as I go off in search of yet more ridiculously over-priced festival cider.
So here's what the day brings...
Gareth Malone and the Voices of the Latitude Choir - deliver a short and punchy set. Despite just a few days of practice the choir of amateurs perform remarkably well.
Naomi Shelton and The Gospel Queens - continue the day in suitably fine style. Confined to a wheelchair and now in her 70s Naomi brings a warmth and a joy to proceedings supported by some fine musicians and backing vocalists. Soul for the soul.
The Boomtown Rats - the ever narcissistic Master Geldof bounds onstage in a snakeskin suit and promptly proceeds to berate the audience for not dressing up. Perhaps it might have been better if the audience had instead reminded him about growing up, his performance punctuated at regular intervals by foul language and inane boasts. Many of the audience head out muttering under their breath - hardly the hit of the festival.
Seasick Steve - fortunately revives the party spirit with a superb set of hocum blues played on an increasingly bizarre series of home-fashioned instruments. Very, very good indeed and he has the audience eating from his hand. Quite a contrast with the tawdry act that preceded him.
The Manic Street Preachers - unashamedly play their greatest hits and whilst I'm not the most ardent of fans it's clear even to me they've amassed a fine collection of songs over the years. It presages the way for the final act of the festival.
Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds - I'm not expecting to enjoy this quite as much as I do. Noel and his band play songs from their latest album and Oasis covers in about equal measure, all of which are rapturously received. Fittingly they end with 'Don't look back in anger' and the traditional hands in the air audience sing-a-long.
So that was Latitude 2015. Some great music (Public Service Broadcasting, Femi Kuti, Seasick Steve and Noel Gallagher standing to the fore), some great culture (who can forget the magnificent first-night ballet on the water by Studio Festi culminating in an ear-shattering fireworks display) and some decent weather.
A fine way indeed to celebrate ten years of festival fun.
Friday 21 August 2015
Latitude 2015 - Saturday Blues
Saturday and dawn breaks on another pleasingly warmed morning. Already there are snaking queues leading ramshackle into the Shower Tents. A desultory trickle is the best that can be managed and it's back to Veronica the Van with a free copy of 'The Independent' tucked purposefully beneath my arm.
It's another leisurely start. Stoked once more with sundry breakfast detritus from the 24/7 servery we pass through the psychedelic Check-Point Charley entry-point to the festival fields. We're off to the Film Tent for a fascinating piece called, 'Station to Station' by Doug Aitken. It features over sixty one minute short musical performances and interviews shot during a train journey from New York to San Francisco. Well worth a look if it comes near you.
From there it's back to the music and...
Badly Drawn Boy - with a lack-lustre and somewhat surly performance of his meister-work, 'The Hour of the Bewilderbeast' over at the Obelisk Arena. Frankly five minutes was more than sufficient, thank you.
Sun Kil Moon - a short trip across the BBC 6 Radio Tent sees Mark Kozelek in surprisingly spritely form. The ex Red House Painter even takes off his denim jacket toward the end of the set to do battle with one of the three drum kits on stage.
Jose Gonzalez - back to the Obelisk Arena for a fine performance by Mr Gonzalez and his impressively fluid backing band. We saw him play at Warwick Arts Centre earlier in the year when he was just as impressive. Swedish bossa-nova, ambient just doesn't come finer than this!
Flagging a little we head back to the Comedy Tent to see Marcus Brigstocke. We saw him perform on Friday as part of an improv ensemble and today he's even better when he flies solo. The vicissitudes of divorce and fresh love provide the soundtrack to his insightful comic observations.
And at this point as weariness overwhelms us we decide to turn in for an early night, the starkly scratched sounds of Portishead accompanying our return journey to Veronica the Van.
Sunday 9 August 2015
Latitude 2015 - porcine shards and the joys of Public Service Broadcasting
the new day arrives like an asthmatic lark with the splutter of a diesel motor from the camper-van next to us. Time for a quick recce with the camera followed by a skirmish in the showers.
Two things strike me as I undertake my morning ablutions, namely the increasing popularity of ill-conceived tattoos amongst men of all ages and the high incidence of pubic topiary amongst the young. On my return to Veronica the van I convey this alarming news to mrs electrofried, who is just awakening from her slumbers. She feigns complete indifference and rolls over.
An hour and a half later and we're comfortably ensconced in the breakfast tent. The morning tsunami of hungry campers has already washed away most of the breakfast fare leaving us with crisped slices of bacon that explode into shards of potentially lethal porcine shrapnel on first bite and a variety of mushy things that are orange and of uncertain origin. Fine stuff with which to start the day!
We've opted to kick off the festival proper in the Comedy Tent, arriving just in time to catch the back end of Elis James and the entirety of Alan Davies, who is side-splittingly fantastic. His distinctive facial features change chameleon-like from sad spaniel to moon-beamed gurner and back in an instant as he shares the perils of middle-aged manhood.
And so to music...
Femi Kuti and the Positive Force - a fantastic display of Afrobeat on the Main Stage from yet another musical scion of the late, great Fela Kuti. His energetic dancing troupe kicks ass too, considerable quantities of it, clad in blue spandex and pointed for the most part in the general direction of an adoring audience.
King Creosote - an excellent set in the BBC Radio 6 Tent from the legendary Scottish singer/songwriter Kenny Anderson. Mrs electrofried gives it the thumbs up.
Public Service Broadcasting - we stay on to catch one of the highlights of the festival. I take up position in the mosh-pit only to have Ruby Wax (yes, THE Ruby Wax who is speaking later in one of the other tents) push past me to the front. The music is sublime and when PSB strike up the opening notes of 'Go!', accompanied by the spoken-word archives from the Apollo 11 moon-landing the crowd goes wild. J. Wildgoose, Esq and Wrigglesworth - we salute you!
Caribou - we catch the tail end of their set on the Main Stage. Mrs electrofried is unimpressed by their Neu-like motorik beats so I'm sent in search of a nice cup of PG Tips. This gives me the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the lady running the Crepe Stall who introduces me to her short-order cook. Apparently he plays Rugby League for England. I don't know much about his sporting prowess but he makes a mean brew.
Alt-J - a huge disappointment. They look lost on the Main Stage and in desperate need of a comfy blanket and a bulk order of pacifiers. We leave early on in their set to make our way across to the Film Tent for ...
The White Mink Electro-Swing Club - I thoroughly enjoyed their club evening last year and they prove equally as good this year. Regrettably a long day is starting to catch up so we depart after the first act to make our way back across the twinkling-lit fields in search of Veronica the van and our bed for the night.
Saturday 8 August 2015
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