Showing posts with label Natty Congeroo and the Flames of Rhythm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Natty Congeroo and the Flames of Rhythm. Show all posts

Friday, 25 July 2014

Latitude 2014 - the curtains open

Dear Sheddists,

tonight yours truly is to be found tuckered up behind his trusty Victrola, sun-burnt and destitute once more as Master Amazon drains the last  pitiful vestiges of the electrofried current account in return for the promise of yet more silver-glinting discs to come. The washing is on the line and the films are ready for processing - yes, Latitude 2014 was indeed a rip-roaring success, so let's return to the scene of the crime...

Base-camp established 

On Thursday morning we load up Veronica the camper-van and set off in search of four days of music, culture, strong drink and hideously over-priced festival food.  Last year we smuggled mrs electrofried's contraband marmalade jars unwittingly past the waiting Check Point Charlie glass-embargoing gendarmerie. This year it's the turn of my bottle of M&S aftershave to evade detection - 40 degrees proof with a mild but tastefully perfumed after-shock.

We're waved through with little more than a perfunctory glance at Veronica's tight-packed interior and it's onward to claim a prime spot in the general camper-van section. I set the girls to work putting up the awning whilst I focus attentions on the 'Green Agenda' by downing a can or two of Mrs Patel's finest cut-price super-strength lager and depositing the empties in a thoughtfully provided festival recycling bag.

Before long we're surrounded by a veritable cornucopia of camper-vannery ranging from the more modern and tastefully decorated, to the old and much-loved rust-buckets of yore.  Unsurprisingly the 'yoof' opt for the latter whilst the more elderly amongst us plump for the former.

In search of food

Camp safely established we set off in search of sustenance. I've booked a spot at the Latitude lakeside restaurant but a fifteen minute wait with ne'er a sniff of a drink or the offer of a humble crust of bread decides it for us.

We leave for the Noodle Bar just round the corner and they produce the goods in something under thirty seconds.  We're not entirely sure what the goods are, but they fill a hole and so it's on to our first taste of festival music.

Inna 40's stylee

The Film and Music Arena boasts a night of electro swing speakeasy hosted by the White Mink club.  I must confess I had not encountered this curious genre before, but within the beat of a heart it has me captivated!  Old style 1940s jazz backed by a rich panoply of electro-beats is exactly what the doctor ordered.

I join the merry throng moshing to the sounds of Natty Congeroo and the Flames of Rhythm and before long the electrofried knee-swing is seen in full action. The next act, on stage for barely five minutes (in every sense of the word), is a vaudeville act comprising a young lady in full flapper attire and a tastefully placed piano. Suffice to say that by the end of a brief, but spirited performance the piano remains firmly in place but the flapper outfit now decorates the stage floor.

Back to the music and this time it's DJ Chris Tofu spinning vintage platters in what the festival programme promises to be his own inimitable 'selector' style.  And a rather jolly thing it is too, punctuated at regular intervals by repeated rewinds and a healthy measure of back-beat accompaniment to go.

The final act is The Sweet Life Society who have, we are informed, spent two days in a bus criss-crossing Europe to be with us. The crowd rises as one to greet them as the opening salvo of 'Swingin' with the Cadillac' lets rip. It's one sweat-soaked glistening cake-walk from start to finish - glorious, glorious stuff and a great way to see out the night.


So stay tuned for the next exciting episode … !!!