Day 237. What Larks (25/8/13)

An account of a gig that I went to nearly eight years ago. Here because I want to preserve the experience of being out with my then 17 year old son.

There's every possibility that the only reason that I don't currently have a hangover is because I'm still drunk from last night.

I may well still be drunk from Friday night, it's been that kind of weekend. Last night at tea I inadvertently ordered a bottle of Pinot Grigio that only I wanted. There was nothing else to do; leaving it would have been a waste so it joined the lunchtime Magners. And the 'first half of the match' Bulmers.

You can think of the Southern Comfort and ginger(s) that got me through to half one this morning as dessert if you wish.

And now? Now we're home. Or we were home. I had to make a decision between falling asleep or heading to Sefton Park for the Liverpool International Music Festival with our Tom. I took the Bon Jovi option; I'll sleep when I'm dead.

So we're on a train to Central to change for a train to Aigburth to walk up to Seffy Park. So far Tom has told me that as a child he thought the announcements in the train were made by somebody hanging on to the roof of the train with a microphone watching where we were going and that 'you know those little inlays in the walls of the tunnels on the line? Grandad Tommy told me that they were where the dwarfs hid during the dwarf wars of 1820. I think that's better than them being somewhere for workmen to stand when the train passes.

Kind of real time, as it happens stuff from here; 

We've hit Central for the change to the Hunts Cross line. On a train that will arrive in 25 minutes. There's a major tourist initiative on. A brand new music festival spread across the city. Something that necessitates crossing the city on a bank holiday weekend. Merseytravel's solution to this? A standard half hourly Sunday service. Pathetic.

Merseyrail is, always had been and undoubtedly always will be a paragon of incompetence. Central had a major, multi million pound refit not so long ago which resulted in better lights so you could see exactly how grim, joyless and soul sapping this hideous station is.

So, a 25 minute wait for a 5 minute train ride and out into glorious sunshine, a following of the crowds with the hope that we're all going the same place and for the first time ever I'm blogging while walking. Technology. Cool isn't it?

The walk to Sefton Park takes us through Lark Lane. For all the stick I've given Lark Lane over the years for being student central and having nothing to do with actual Liverpool, I genuinely love the place; always interesting, always lively, on a sun drenched afternoon like this it's a perfect place to be. Nice ice cream shops as well.

Its only real issue is that it's in South Liverpool and therefore somewhat inaccessible from my house. Relocate to the North End and me and Lark Lane will get on just fine thanks.

The park itself is rammed. It's a proper family atmosphere, picnics, wine, kids playing with their parents, a funfair, a 'bring your own beer and have a good time' feel to it that's totally opposed to the darker, sometimes downright nasty edge that the Mathew Street festival could have with drunken scallies either falling out of overcrowded bars or attempting to buy beer in devastated Tesco Expresses. This is quite definitely a triumph.

World Stage. Some Irish stuff. Pleasant enough not world shaking. Turns out to be the Padraig Rynee Quartet. Hit the bandstand just in time to miss The Mono LPs which is s shame as I liked them a lot last time I saw them. Move to the 'It's Liverpool Tomorrow' stage, which is where I really wanted to be. Catch 'Ghostchant'; one man on stage hunched over laptop and assorted technology. Nice and mellow with some wonderfully fractured beats, bit of a Massive Attack 'vibe'. Tom's not impressed, either with my need to be close to the stage or with the music itself. He doesn't like anything that's not 'real' and wants to preserve his hearing. It's too late for mine and I'm happy with the hypnotic quality of the music. May well lay back and just let it wash through me, seems an appropriate reaction.

And back to the bandstand (I love the bandstand, saw The Bunnymen , Icicle Works, Big Country, Nick Heyward here) for Tyler Mensah. Nice 'charty' acoustic soul, good voice.

Moving across the fields again to the main/world stage for 'Les Freres Guisse' - no idea but pretty damn funky, this is the music that the weather demands. Fair amount of exotic smelling smoke in the park. No idea what it is but everyone seems really happy. Tell you what, if you're not moving to this you're possibly dead.

The two smack heads in front of me are having the time of their life. Ah, bless.

Mellowtone's Bandstand for Ottersgear's zydeco inflected folk; a pleasant diversion while Tom plays chicken with the kids' train that wends it's way through the park, daring it to strike him down.

Ady Suleiman is an acoustic rapper with a nice 'flow' as the young people would have it. Somewhat reminiscent of Maverick Sabre. Nicely political, wish I'd caught more than the last bloody song.

Okay, brief moment of panic. Apart from the fact that the battery usage on this phone has gone through the roof and I'm not sure I can complete before it dies, I appear to have lost our Tom. I went the toilet, said 'I'll meet you at the bandstand for 'We The Undersigned'. I'm here. Tom? Not so much. Maybe I should have been more specific. Maybe I should look for him rather than write about the fact that he's lost.

We the 'undermined' as Tom is insisting they are called have taken forever doing sound checks things, they'd better be worth the wait.

There are about forty six of them on stage, including a horn section and two be-robed female singers who appear to have fled the Polyphonic Spree and a rapper/toaster in a dapper yellow trilby. They have a nice 'sound' - all late 70s light shanking with ghostly keyboards and deep bass but I don't know if I'm convinced, we're on the second song and I think I've forgotten the first. The sun just went in. That may be a metaphor.

Backing vocalist just said 'we're semi acoustic today' so clearly not their full sound. Third song starts with a nice funny intro, maybe they deserve another chance. Vocals come in and they lose me again. Shame, is heard lots of hood things about them. Look, it's not you. It's me, it's not working out for us.

All We Are however have an interestingly dark soulful sound, very full for a three piece and more melody in the first minute than I've caught in the last 10. Liking these, they're interesting, they've got something; a magnetism.

The day is ending for us though, we need to surrender ourselves to the vagaries of Merseytravel once more. Hopefully we'll be home before dark.

Les Freres Guisse win the day but as festivals go LIMFESTIVAL is a winner. I'd do it again tomorrow but somebody Rota'd me on for working.

What kind of idiot puts himself in to work a perfectly good August Bank Holiday?

Oh yeah, me.