I’ve been oohing and arring for a few weeks about whether to make the trek to Beal Farm for Lindisfarne festival. After a month of not working, I found myself skint. I certainly couldn’t afford to camp all weekend as planned. Friday was tempting courtesy of ObSceNE’s revival but the iconic open mic event was on too early, I would have missed it by the time I finished work. I had initially wrote Saturday off too – but I finished work nice and early, so set my mind to going.
A number of obstacles popped up on the way, although most were self induced. I hadn’t actually got a festival ticket as I first thought, I had booked a train for the week after and I couldn’t get through to the taxi company to pick me up from the station. Still, I got there eventually, just in time for The Bridge UK Hip-Hop takeover at the High Rise tent.
Walking through the gates, I immediately liked the festival atmosphere. There were lots of people having a good time but it wasn’t as crammed as Creamfields where I was the week before. This is the scale of festival I enjoy, and I wished I’d planned better to camp the full weekend. I could have done with headliners more relevant to 2018, but I came for the rappers from the North East scene and planned on leaving straight after.
It wasn’t to be.
Apparently along with my horrific last minute planning to get to Lindisfarne festival, I hadn’t really thought through getting back either. Fortunately I knew two wonderful people working the festival who sorted me out with some company and a ‘tenthouse suite’ to sleep in.
A load of people were asking before I travelled to Beal Farm, “is it going to be worth it?”
The truth is most people would say definitely not and on the way I wasn’t confident it would be either – and that’s before getting stuck.
The thing is though, I really love music. It’s what keeps me sane, entertained and drowns out pain.
When it comes to the local music scene in the North East, you can multiply that statement ten fold. While there were a lot of great performances (and we’ll get to those in other posts) there was one specific song that made all the hassle of getting here (and getting back) all worth it.
I still remember when I first heard the demo of this song. I wasn’t such a fan of the hook which has since been changed but it grew on me. There was initially space for a third verse and so inspired by the beauty of 90BRO and Max Gavins’ nostalgic introspection, I actually penned and recorded a now vaulted verse myself.
From 90’s “It takes a brotherhood to make an opus” to Max’s FIFA night soliloquy – it’s a song which touches my soul. As I’ve grown up and grown apart from close childhood friends, I’m noticing more and more how much time I spend on my own and acting like silence is golden.
It’s not necessarily a negative thing. If I wasn’t so used to being alone, I probably wouldn’t have been comfortable travelling to Beal Farm and consequently missed out on what I believe is only the second performance of Brothers.
I booked Rumaz to headline a gig I put on for my birthday earlier in the year, and was probably a little too drunk to fully appreciate it. Stone cold sober in a tent on the Northumberland coast however, every beat and bar made maximum impact.
After an otherwise lively upbeat set, Brothers was probably a low point in the set for most. Speaking to Max afterwards, he said something about “do you see now why we don’t do Brothers live?”
And I do.
It’s a long, sobering song that the average gig-goer probably isn’t able to appreciate, much like I couldn’t fully at Hawthorn Palooza.
But I’m not an average person, and Brothers is far from an average song. It might not have been a crowd pleaser like Takeoff or The Reckoning, but for me it made an otherwise nightmare of a day 100% worth it.