Reviews
To Halle and back
It was not a promising start. "Yes, of course I know where
Halle is", said my Dutch colleague, "it's in Germany". No matter
how much I insisted, he was convinced that there was no Halle
in Holland. Eventually he found the tiny dot on the map, at
which point his enthusiasm to assist me with my Dutch travel
requirements faded to nothing more than a puzzled shrug of the
shoulders and a slightly patronising "I don't know what you're
going there for". Eventually, I booked to stay at what the halle.nl
website hailed as the nearest hotel. It looked quite close on
the map, and the prospect of a nice gentle summer train ride
through the Dutch countryside seemed appealing. After all, I
was to be working in Holland that day anyway, so what could
be easier?
Things were very different on the day. My meetings overran and
I left my office in Wormerveer at 6pm. By this time, not only
had I realised that my hotel was in fact 50km away from Halle,
but also that if everything ran exactly according to plan, I
would be at least 15 minutes late. I don't mind missing Waltzinblack,
but missing any thing else on the set-list is a disaster. Then
disaster turned to tragedy when I realised that I had not factored
dinner into the equation! I was hot, sweaty, uncomfortable,
late and worst of all - getting hungry.
As I made my second and last train connection by the skin of
my teeth, I was beginning to think that things were going to
plan after all. A quick telephone chat with the hotel receptionist
changed all that. Yes, they could get me a taxi, but did I know
that it is at least 45 minutes away (I had been told 30), it
would be impossible to get a ticket because there would be 100,000
people there, and by the way, it is in Germany after all.
I arrived at my hotel knowing that I would miss the start of
the gig.
After a fifty minute taxi ride through the Dutch countryside
(no, it's not in Germany after all), I eventually arrive at
the festival. As I walk the 100 metres or so from car park to
entrance, I hear the characteristic thud of the Ashdown-powered
bass overlaid with tinkling keyboards. I quicken my pace and
try to tune into the music - its Walk On By, so I have missed
half the gig at least. I pay my 5 Euros and hurry into the festival.
It's a huge open space, with plenty of camping, and a host of
very unappetising fast-food trailers serving Dutch-style "food".
In the middle is a large tent, which is where the music is emanating
from. It's quite busy, a few thousand people I would say, but
miraculously I am able to claim my spot right at the front in
the middle, leaning on the barrier.
The stage is large and visually quite impressive, although the
sound as they launch into Duchess is bassier and muddier than
could do justice to the keyboards and guitar.
Dave was sporting his new "number 3" haircut which gave him
a cleaner look than previously. I wonder what he did with his
ponytail? He could have made a fortune if he had sold it on
eBay.
The set was similar to the Norfolk Coast tour - Lost Control,
WWW and Wild followed. Both Baz and JJ leapt simultaneously
into the air for the start of Grip, and the duo enjoyed singing
the backing vocals to Tank, showing as much by exchanging cheeky
school boy grins. Time for "Thank you Goodnight", and I had
my fingers crossed for a full encore. The Stranglers came back
on almost immediately, and a quick time check revealed that
they should have finished by now. The first base note from JJ
announced NMH as a one-song encore.
So I had missed the first half of the set, and in particular
the token new song. Shuffling somewhat forlornly from the tent,
I used lager therapy to make the food options become more appealing,
and eventually settled for a polystyrene tray of vlaamse frites
- I think the chips were made of the same polystyrene, but at
least the mayo was creamy.
During the 50 minute taxi ride home, I had time to reflect on
the trip. A quick cost-benefit analysis revealed vastly disproportionate
expenditure compared to the benefit received. When I add up
the cost of the train, the hotel, the taxi and divide it by
eight songs then I must question my own sanity.
Over a more leisurely beer-and-pizza midnight supper near the
hotel, the craziness of it all makes me smile, and I decide
it was all worth while after all. See you in Belgium.
Anthony Goodwin
|
|
Soulsec Archive
|