“And nobody’ll know that your there my friend
And if they did they wouldn’t care
But we care Michael we care
And we’ll always be shouting for you
No matter what you say or do
We will always be shouting for you.”
Niall Linehan / Ashley Keating / Paul Linehan
In my semi-state of post Electric Picnic delirium I half heard someone talking on the radio about random ants. At least I think I did, or it was a dream. In any case, when an ant from a colony finds food she takes it back home , leaving a trail of pheromones from her belly along the way, so that when the other ants see the food they will be able to follow her route to the food source. This works up to a point. As all of the other ants traipse back and forth from this same food source, they are also leaving trails of pheromones and this compounding of markers means that you get the majority of the colony is now on this path , to and fro for this single source of food. But then that runs out and they have no source of food.
Which is why they have random ants.
Random ants just wander off in all directions just having a look about, meeting neighbours, visiting art galleries, and , by accident, occasionally finding a new source of food, which keeps the whole show on the road.
I wrote about something similar within the world of bees. Bees do a waggle dance to show each other where to find a good source of nectar, but weirdo bees, about 20%, simply ignore the waggle dance and buzz off in a different direction. These weirdo bees are crucial to the hives survival, as , if the bees all simply followed each other to the closest largest food source, any natural or human event, a storm, mowing a meadow, would leave them starving, but the weirdo bees would then come to the rescue saying, “Oh there’s another big field of daffodils the other side of that hedge two fields away that I spotted on my way back from a sip of cider in Hughie’s” and there would be loud cheers and much rejoicing.
It’s the weirdo bees and random ants who discover new things because most others aren’t looking for them.
Electric Picnic was full of random ants. Artists and performers doing things differently, and in their own joyful way curious lotus eaters casually admiring their efforts.
My initial wandering on Friday took me to Mindfield, a podcast village of sorts, where various talks were taking place in tents. I went to see a showing of our friend Colin Peppard’s film , My Mate Kev, and subsequent interview with Donie O’Sullivan from CNN. Colin is a friend of our Jake’s, and the son of the stalwarts of the Monaghan athletics coaching scene, Una and Brian Peppard. This short film has already won an award at the Galway Arts Festival and has been long-listed for an Oscar’s nomination. Donie introduced Colin to the stage and asked him to briefly tell us what the film was about. Colin told us that he’d heard through old college friends that one of their mates, Kev, had gone down a rabbit hole of right wing , pro-Maga, anti-everything else memes and most people had stopped contact. Colin , being Colin, reached out and visited with him and recorded some of their conversations. Colin, being very Colin, spotted me in the crowd and said ‘Hello Paul’ from the stage. I was chuffed to bits and went a proud shade of neo pink. The film was watched in awed silence and received rapturous applause at the end. His interview at the end with Donie was good too. I had to queue a good twenty minutes at the end to shake hands with him such was the amount of well wishers congratulating him. I did get a hug though, so it was worth it.
I headed off to see Gurriers. Before they came on stage the soundtrack from For A Few Dollars More was playing, for no apparent reason, other than they could, and it’s class. From the moment they came on stage they knocked us off our feet with a loud and energetic set. My highlight was when they gave a shout out from the stage to “….anyone here from Castleblayney, Monaghan !”. They played their set to an enthusiastic crowd of around 8,000, all of whom already seemed to be diehard fans. I saw them two years ago here, but on the Salty Dog stage with about 40 other people. I only went on the say so of my friend Micky who had met the drummer in the Bohemians FC bar and found out he was from ‘Blayney. They’re at the stage where no one has written a Wikipedia page for them yet, but their tees are on sale in the official merchandise tent at Electric Picnic.
After that I met my friend Adrian, Claire, brother Donal, and his partner A.D.E.L.E . Adrian and I have been friends since we were 11 or 12. I met them together as this group two years ago here at a Jinx Lennon performance, Adele is a huge fan. We were due to be joined by another friend Eddie, but a combination of Adrian’s reluctance to stay in one spot, and Eddie’s dreadful sense of direction, meant that I had to go look for him. By the time I’d retrieved him Claire and Adele had headed off to see Zara Larson, Donal had gone walkabout, so Adrian , Eddie and I had a lovely evening spent in the company of pretty decent Ian Dury and the Blackheads tribute band at Survivor, were then entranced by My Bad Sister in Salty Dog, before ending up , inevitably at Jinx Lennon, playing in Fishtown.
Adrian played bass in Jinx first band, Sneakey Pete & The Ostrich and almost gave up going to college in order to make a go of the band…until his Mother threatened him with a gruesome death. At some stage between Salty Dog and Fishtown I had shown Eddie the magic of an orange Hi-Viz vest. He put mine on and stood for only 30 seconds before someone came up to ask him directions, then a second person asked what time Skepta were playing tomorrow as a queue of other lost souls formed to ask the man in the magic vest for direction for salvation. Adrian insisted on wearing it for a few minutes and managed to give three couples the wrong directions to where they were going…unintentionally. He also asked each of them how they were getting on and if they were happy with the levels of mulch on the pathways as part of an EP survey. Eddie claimed the magic vest and wandered off into the night to see where it would take him.
Adrian and I enjoyed the best Jinx gig I have ever attended. Jinx was in top form, smiling on more than one occasion, and the crowd loved him , and belted out each and every chorus…no mean feat as Jinx can give the impression that he has made the chorus up on the spot. Adrian and I beamed from ear to ear as Jinx took more control of the stage and audience, both of us thinking “Adele would have loved this.”
At the end of the gig Adrian hopped the stage barrier and Jinx came over to have a hug and a chat. They were joined by Charles from the Mary Wallopers. Three Dundalk heads. Adrian and I headed to Bambino pizza for much needed sustenance, and then after a final hug, he headed off to find Claire , Donal, and Adele.
On my way back to Brutopolis I caught Mick Pyro, formerly of Republic of Loose, singing ‘Comeback Girl’ , which has always been a firm favourite of mine. Arriving back at a packed Metro stage in Brutopolis I met Benny. He asked if I was enjoying myself, and I said that I’d had a brilliant day.
On Saturday morning after perhaps 3 or 4 hours sleep I got up, showered and went in search of coffee. I should point out that I had been tucked up in my sleeping bag since 1.00am and got up around 10.30am, but only slept in short bursts between the sounds of the Birdcage, don’t ask, Terminus, earth shaking bass rave, both of which went on until 4.00am, and then my returning neighbours, Niamh, her nice boyfriend, another Claire, and what sounded like most of Zara Larsson’s dancers, having a catch up , with accompanying music.
My Soulmate messaged me as I made my way back from the shower asking how I was getting on. I told her that I’d had 3 hours sleep , a cold shower and was now going back to my tent to use a bottle of water to hose off my feet whatever I’d been standing in at the bottom of the shower.
My fellow traveller Fran messaged me to say that he’d made me tea and beans on toast in his camper, so I trundled over there. Let me tell you, sitting in a field in Stradbally, sheltering from a thunderstorm in Fran’s van, having a cup of proper tea and eating the most delicious beans on toast I have ever had in my life, will forever rank as one of the nicest meals I have ever had.
When there was a gap in the weather I went back to my tent to get kitted out for the afternoon’s adventures. Niamh and Claire were already up and we chatted a little. Niamh said that she’d been in Monaghan the previous year , playing at the Blues Festival, having been booked by a lovely girl.
“Oh, you mean the girl with the gorgeous big brown eyes ? She’s lovely.” Claire said.
“The Hannon ? “ I suggested.
“No that wasn’t her name.” Niamh said.
“Laura ?”
“Yes !” they both replied.
“She prefers to be called The Hannon.”
“Strange.”The girls said in unison.
“She is.” I agreed.
I had a busy afternoon.
Benny had messaged me and asked me to give a key to Almi in the office tent. She asked me if I was Benny’s younger brother, at least that’s how I heard it. When I said no, she asked how I knew him. I told her that 11 years ago I’d been asked to advise him on a business project, and that he’d been ignoring my advice ever since.
I saw Monaghan’s own Reggie take the main stage with Tinie Tempah. Colin’s mum , Una, had messaged me after I’d sent her photos of Colins interview the day before, to say that I’d coached Reggie when he was a junior in Monaghan Phoenix Athletics. Una is very kind. All of the coaching in Monaghan Phoenix back them was conducted by herself, Brian, and Damien. I occupied the reluctant kids who didn’t want to be there. I would take them to the other side of the track and ask them to guess the songs I played on my phone, no matter what it was one of them always guessed ‘The Beatles’, and then I would make up names for star constellations , The Brian Boru, The Big Bin, The Hatchet, and my favourite, The Grumpy Pig.
Next I spent a wonderful hour in the company of Cliffords, a new Corkonian indie rock combo. They were brilliant and I’ve already bought their new EP and ‘Peoples Republic of Cliffords’ tee. Then it was back to the main stage for the magnificent Lola Young. I , along with 30,000 other people roared out all of the lyrics to ‘Messy’.
And then…
There are moments that seemingly come out of nowhere and …
I was in a tent with seven or eight thousand people listening to Galway’s finest, The Stunning, and they started to play ‘Half Past Two’. I was singing along and memories of seeing them a dozen times in Galway in the late Eighties with Speedy in numerous nightclubs, always singing this song together. I didn’t cry. I bawled. I was sing/sobbing the words. Two lovely wee girls asked me if I was OK and I told them that I saw these guys in Galway in 1989 with my friend Speedy and that he’d have loved this. They started crying too. Then we all laugh/cried for a moment, and I thanked them for being so nice.
I composed myself eventually and then went and enjoyed the showers of mulch people were throwing into the air as the Mary Wallopers played the main stage. Standing in that field , with 50,000 people jigging , dancing and shouting out ‘Codliver Oil & The Orange Juice’ as the sun broke through the black sodden clouds , that moment is a keeper.
I went and got something to eat , to steel myself for one of my all time favourite artists, the irrepressible CMAT. She did not disappoint. She opened with Dolly Parton’s Jolene, led us through Jamie Oliver’s Petrol Station, and a When A Good Man Cries…which had a special resonance for me after The Stunning. All of the classics were there , along with my favourite ‘I Wanna Be A Cowboy Baby’. She wore a specially commissioned outfit, the fabric for which was designed and printed by Monaghan’s Helen Steele. I wore my very sexy CMAT O’Neills football jersey.
After that I wandered back to the woods to catch the trailblazers, The Frank & Walters. Every song was a trip down memory lane and they finished with a very cool version of ‘Michael’. Then it was back to the main stage for Gorillaz. They get better every time I see them. On this outing the highlights for me were ‘Kids With Guns’, ‘Melancholy Hill’, and ‘The Shadowy Light’ which was surreal in the dak , with Asha Bhosle singing to us from above.
On my way back to my Brutopolis home I stopped to see Thumper, the band, not the adorable cartoon friend of Bambi, blow the roof off the Salty Dog stage. I’ve never seen a mosh pit in the refined arena of Salty Dog before. The following day I said this to Josh, one of the Brutopolis sparks, and he said “I started that mosh !”.
Sleep again was intermittent…mostly arriving after 6.00am.
On Sunday morning I wore my shoes into the shower, and simply washed them down afterwards.
I was camping directly behind the Brutopolis stage along with the people who had created it and the performers who appeared there.
Brutopolis is a turnip fueled, declining Irish Soviet. It has it’s own Turf Reactor, an empty ATM machine, failed Central Bank, permanently shuttered Supermarket , a Metro Station, printworks, security force, and re-education cells. The performers dress in mis-matched army uniforms and arrest various passing Picknickers for thought crimes and make them harvest turnips and sweep the grass.
My friend Una runs the Printworks and has a blast. The things she gets kids to do in order to get a voucher for cold soup, which doesn’t exist, is mesmerising.
I headed off to Mindfield to spend the morning and afternoon in the company of people that I’d read and admired from afar for ages. I attended a talk hosted by Naoise Nunn, and featuring Dylan Moran and Dominic West. Among many wonderful pearls of wisdom and anecdotes about modern life, and our young peoples’ futures, Dylan said “Don’t waste your precious time giving yourself a hard time. Don’t do it.” along with his wish that we would create the time and space for young people to make art, and then just get out of their way. Dominic said that someone had told him that there were only two things to remember as a parent “Don’t die…and die, at the appropriate time.”
Next I got to see a lovely chat between Anna Carey and Deirdre O’Kane. Anna was arguing, gently, in defence of a happy ending. The talk consisted of lots of very generous advice on writing from both of them, and lots of encouragement to give it a go.
This was followed by Sinead Gleeson interviewing the charmingly brilliant Patrick Freyne. I’ve eagerly devoured his Irish Times columns for years and have both of his books. He was even more wonderful in person than I’d imagined. And I’d imagined him as quite wonderful indeed.
A lovely aspect to this series of talks was how generous all of the writers were with their time and honesty, and their comradeship. They all stayed on for each others talks. Admittedly Anna and Patrick are partners, but still. My final talk was the one with Dawn O’Porter. I have followed her on Instagram for years, supported her Choose Love charity, and bought innumerable tees for our whole family. She was absolutely charming. She cooks a family roast every Sunday that is open to all friends and family…a kindred spirit.
Next up were Florence Road , a new band to me, but one I know I’ll be seeing a lot in the future. My Soulmate had encouraged me to go see Aoife Dunne on the Comedy Stage, so I did. I am no longer a big fan of stand up comedy. I find myself getting overly anxious for the comedian, hoping that it will all go well for them, so much so that I can’t relax and enjoy the show. But I went and her show was great, although tarnished by some shameful anti-Monaghan statements…which were true…but still…
“Being a vegetarian in Ireland in the 90’s was as strange as being a vegetarian in Monaghan, now.”
I left in disgust…giggling.
I caught a bit of Donal Lunny, Zoe Conway and Mairtin O’Connor at Croi on my way back to Brutopolis to change for the evening , before the appearance of the one band that I’d been waiting all weekend to see, Geese.
They played in Rankins Wood at 9pm and…well.
They were every bit as fantastic as I’d hoped. I’d spotted on Setlist FM that they hadn’t played ‘Cobra’ the previous evening in Leeds, so it was a pleasant surprise when they did in Stradbally. Cameron also played a little bit of Aslan’s ‘Crazy World’ between songs. I was standing to the left of the stage, at the front and a young fella about 20 people closer to the middle from me, hopped the barrier, and tried to get on the stage. Security grabbed him and escorted him past me and outside. Five minutes later he squeezed by me , politely saying ‘Sorry’ to everyone he passed, before hopping the barrier again. Same result, caught, escorted out. He tried two more times, each time getting a bigger cheer from the crowd.
When they finished I made my way to the main arena, where Fontaines DC were due to close out the festival. They opened with ‘Boys From The Better Land’ and finished with ‘Starburster’, playing classics and new songs in between. Epic.
During the Fontaines set I’d got a message to say that all of the production roads inside the festival would be under curfew on Monday morning from 7.00am until 4pm, to facilitate all of the campers leaving. This meant that I’d have to get up and out before 7am. I said my goodbyes to everyone in Brutopolis and lay down to rest for a while…I knew there would be precious little sleep. Whatever sound level controls there are in Electric Picnic go out the window on the final night, as do any sense of division between night and day. As I clambered into my tent, my neighbours Niamh, her nice boyfriend, other Claire, and most of Zara Larsson’s dancers were getting ready to head out to a rave. As I lay in the tent my mattress hopped in time to the bass from Terminus. I dozed off. Sometime around 4.30am Niamh, her nice boyfriend, another Claire, and most of Zara Larsson’s dancers came back to chat, chill, and listen to music. I got up at 5.45am. Someone said ‘Kill the music ! We’ve woken him’. I said it was OK I was getting up now anyway. They said their goodbyes to me and headed off to a shebeen.
I headed home.
Happy.
Every person I worked with, Benny, Original Mark, Paul, Uli, Paddy, other Paul, Eoin, Eugene, Liz, Ciara, Claire, Tom, Almi, Eugene, new Mark, Tomas, Josh, Ben, Charles, Smiley, Fran, Eleanor, Rocky, Niall, Nikita, Una, her coven, Niamh, her nice boyfriend, other Claire, most of Zara Larsson’s dancers, was nicer, more patient, and kinder than the last…with the obvious exception of Benny.
My friend Shane asked me this week “What was the best gig of EP ? The surprise gig ? And the biggest disappointment ?”
I replied “Cliffords, Geese, Patrick Freyne’s talk, Lola Young, and Dylan Moran and Dominic West in conversation. Somethings were slightly less brilliant than others, nothing disappointed.”
In my delirium this week I came across this quote from Virginia Wolff :
“Behind the cotton wool is hidden a pattern… the whole world is a work of art… there is no Shakespeare… no Beethoven… no God; we are the words; we are the music; we are the thing itself.”
Or we’re random ants…with kindness in our hearts
Toodles,
Paul
P.S. This is for you , the two girls who cried/laughed with me in the tent, and all of the gorgeous citizens of Brutopolis.
