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Haldern Festival - Flaming Lips / Foals / Yeasayer / Norman Palm / Finn
Day 1
Germany
Article written by
Various Writers - Aug 26, 2008
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Haldern
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Sehensucht is the German word for longing, melancholy. And boy did I get a big dose of it whilst the backstage fire crackled and spat through the early hours of the last day. The knowledge that Haldern’s “land of Faerie” would be inaccessible for another year is always one that always tempers the spirits.
There is a rarefied magic about Haldern that transcends the usual plus points I associate with summer festivals. Maybe it’s because Haldern is a small, home-grown affair and one that has cussedly stayed that way. Or maybe it’s because you know you are never ripped off and everyone is so disarmingly pleasant, generous and helpful. Even the sponsors, (with one notable exception - but you’ll come to that later in our reports), get in the vibe of the weekend. Whatever was happening on the on the cigarette-sponsor bus Saturday afternoon definitely wasn’t an ad man’s dream…
Whatever Haldern’s special ingredients, the essential innocent, fun recipe of going camping and watching bands is still potent here. And I have to say, the growing realisation that thousands of German and Dutch music lovers are collectively going slightly loopy under canvass is a very invigorating one.
Anyway, enough sehensucht! To work!
Thursday 07/08/08.
This being Haldern’s 25th anniversary, big things were planned for the opening night. As well as the usual groovy hippy vibe in the Spiegel tent, the main stage was to be bombarded with a stand off between the Cromwellian mission of Foals and the regal Grande Masque of the Flaming Lips. But we had to wait a few hours for that duel to begin. Kicking things off in the tent was Finn, who hails from Hamburg. Finn was backed by three gentlemen all dressed in black; studious in demeanour and playing quiet, melancholy, singer-songwriter pop. The light relief was given by the Jarvis Cocker lookalike on percussion who sported blue face paint beneath his heavy NHS specs. He has a great voice, and unfortunately for us he knew it. After a while, hearing everything in the same key, style and tempo can begin to grate, however good, and even with periodic glances at the Blue Jarvis on percussion, our attention began to wander. We gave up when a cover of Moon River and I Just Called to say I Love You were aired… Yeah, Finn is okay, certainly talented but needs to get some sand in the songwriting Vaseline.
Following Finn, Norman Palm came on and, dressed in a red plaid shirt, did some camp fire acoustic tunes that have entirely failed to register in our memory. Maybe he was too quiet. Maybe he was too similar in approach to Finn. Maybe the Young People of Today need to stop listening to Joni Mitchell (is 2008 really 1975 in disguise?) No matter. Fleet Foxes followed, bringing yet more acoustic guitars and backwoodsmen chic to the party, but what Mr Palm lacked in presence, the Foxes more than made up for in sound and professionalism. There’s a glint of steel here, despite the hippy-isms. They are professional (you need to be to hone harmonies that tight) and they know how to set a mood. This was modern country folk, widescreen style. It was also a blistering gig, with enough menace and intent to balance the CSN sheen. At last! The Spiegel Tent had settled into a groove for the evening, one that was to be continued with the mighty Yeasayer. Another bunch of studious kids, more found sounds and customised electronic nonsense, and more eclectic intentions than is possibly necessary, but hey! Yeasayer have made a pretty impressive first album and there’s a poppy groove about them that could be developed into something truly special. At times as they settled into thumping out their anthemic rhythms, we thought that they could (if they stopped hiding behind their instruments and being so bloody gauche all the time), turn into Wilder-era Teardrop Explodes – albeit without the massive drug intake. Still, the audience dug them, and so should you.
After the Yeasayer experience, your correspondents stumbled over to see Foals blasting out their abstract funk clatter. Foals are enjoying a meteoric rise and are determined not to let it slip, that’s for sure. It’s as if they’re on some kind of mission, known only to them. And despite enjoying this hard-headedness, we find their music Gnomic and ever so slightly inhuman. Sure, people love their sound and enjoy their cussed “mission to the land of new music” nature; the big test for them will be when they throw away their textbook. And the whole stunt of facing each other whilst playing (even on a big stage like the main stage at Haldern) does belie this. We could be cruel and say bands like Henry Cow, Gong & the Soft Machine did this “serious musician looks at serious musician and goes to Nirvana” thang back in the 70s. But we won’t elaborate. For now a question will suffice. Can real life experience enter the Foals canon in any way? We’ll see. A determined, hard-edged gig was enough to give the audience high expectations.
Flaming Lips
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After this things got confused. Somehow your correspondents found themselves chatting to Steve from the Flaming Lips who saw no reason to dissuade us from joining their Baroque escapades onstage. Soon, suitably attired in man-made fibres and armed with torches, two of your team were whisked away to become part of an excited Tellytubby crowd. Sadly, the third member of your team saw fit to rant and rage against the sheer muselessness of modern rock and roll. Maybe it’s because his costume didn’t fit and a red Tellytubby head doesn’t go well with a Yellow Tellytubby body. Maybe it’s because listening to the Litter and Chuck Berry on the way to Haldern had given him an attitude a mile high and twice as wide. Whatever, that costume man, it was Unclean and Wrong.
“Being a Tellytubby? I’m selling out Chuck Berry!”
Being placated with the Lips’ collective weed stash was still not enough for this infrequent toker to stop the anti Genesis/Lips rant. Still, standing backstage, watching the hamster ball, confetti and dry ice create a vision of an uber party Funhouse, an appreciation of why the Flaming Lips can be so much fun live was hard to deny. And playing She Don’t Use Jelly was cool too. After that an impromptu party made up of various bands brought a very colourful evening to a close.
Words: Richard Foster, Damian Leslie, Mariska van den Hoven.
Pics: Chris Mcdonnell, Damian Leslie
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