It was my first year at The Great Escape , Brighton, and I had a time. Many bands and conversations, some bold ideas uncovered and the chance to venture around a favourite old town with an agreeable climate.
Around 10pm on the Friday evening, I was at the Komedia venue in their studio room to see Soak. She was great, the location was jammed and I secretly made a note of the names on the delegate passes. I Googled them afterwards and sure enough, our Soak was being studied by a load of international players.
Not that she worried much. She had composure, her mother supplied fresh plectrums and a bunch of new songs were sent into the aether with magnificent ease. One bloke couldn’t deal with the consensual quiet and protested loudly, but he was backing out of the room and the audience willed him away before cheering Soak for her good grace under pressure. Such lovely drama and another memorable career step. She finished with her cover of the Bon Iver / Bonnie Raitt heartbreaker, ‘I Can't Make You Love Me’ and Brighton gave a collective swoon.
Elsewhere, it was more boistrous. Charlie Boyer And The Voyeurs played it with the particular cool of Television and the New York punk vernacular of 1976. Feathers harnessed an electro-rumble that was redolent of early Human League. I watched the Klaxons, and then asked myself why. Back at The Haunt and the Palma Violets encouraged a stage invasion with their strident ways.
The Irish showcase at Audio started with Kid Karate, very loud and amenable to the afternoon indie kids. The Adelines made a case for Swansea and sweetly creased tunes. Another time in the sprawl, there was the psycho-crank of local combo The Wytches and the Love-esque drift of Jacco Gardner. Inevitably there was a deal of alt landfill and industry people chasing absurd haircuts, but Brighton sounded well and the seafront delivered excitations.
