Organizing a festival isn’t an easy business. Between managing talent and inviting thousands of drunk and stoned miscreants, there are all kinds of things that can go wrong. I wasn’t worried on the drive in. I’d heard nothing but praise for Seed Experiences’ Western Cape-based festival, Rocking The Daisies, especially from how they handled logistics. About an hour into arriving at their inaugural Magaliesburg fest, however, my protective force-field of critical cynicism kicked in big time.
One of the gentlemen at the entrance moodily double-checked my media credentials. I could see it wasn’t me that had upset him. He was probably tense that all us meddling kids were going to sneak a few dozen drug-filled midget friends in under our bags and stuff. The posse of pock-marked teenage festival first-timers queuing up behind us likely turned his frown upside down. Finding friends beyond the gates, we quickly hustled a flat treeless campsite worthy of Abraham & the Israelites (your new band name, courtesy me) and spread our cars far apart enough that more people could join us later. A few security guys blankly watched as we set up our tents and gazebo, then stopped us just short of pulling out the lawn gnomes, to say our spot was strictly for parking. We could only camp across the dirt road, under the trees and amongst the bushes. More security stopped us at the gates on the way to the stage area, making sure we didn’t take so much as a drop of funjuice through; even if it was in plastic cups or bottles. That’s not the festival policy I’m used to, but we chugged like frat boys at the recycling bins and moved on. Only an hour or so into our adventure, and my photographer buddy turned to me and said this was starting to feel “more like Toiling The Soil”.
There were no bands on Day 1 so we spent an evening in the lush little food garden, enjoying what the DJs had on offer. Things seemed a little brighter on Day 2. I’d crashed early and so my friends recounted their night to me. Nothing spectacular had gone down, but everyone had hefty hangovers that only Doctors Egg, Bacon & Grease could cure. Rumours were spreading that you could only get past the stage for breakfast if you had a VIP, band or media tag on. Otherwise you’d have to wait till 10am or grill your own bacon on a steaming hot car roof. The guy at the potjie stall corrected me on this later, saying he’d been up since 6, preparing breakfast for anyone and everyone. Still, the rumours prompted my friends to take a drive down the road to the creepily-named “Nora’s Nook”, where an old woman in an “I Masturbate” t-shirt tried to address us poor Engelse mense in Afrikaans while purchasing her own brand of breakfast; a carton of Jo’burg Beer. Ahhh, country living.
By the time the bands were up, we’d suitably grilled our insides, so we broke away from the beating sun to lounge on massive beanbags under a canopy the festival provided. Considering the general lack of shade at the venue, this was another great idea from Seed and Converse, who, I’d recommend, provide even more of these if they end up using this venue again next year. The music kicked off with a few late morning stumbles. The sound engineers managed to figure out opening act Naming James’ simple setup quickly, but there was confusion when Shortstraw took to the stage. Apparently someone behind the scenes was under the misconception that the openers’ simple bass-and-guitar setup would work just as well for a 5-piece act. The resulting soundcheck ate into an overly-stringent schedule and cut Shortstraw’s set short before they played what guitarist Tom Revington called their “two power songs”. From the front row, I saw lead singer Al prepping the big finishers with his bandmates when a stage manager signalled them to stop. “One more song, right?” Al mouthed, but the guy shook his head and the band packed up in frustration.
“We understand where they’re coming from, you know,” Al lamented, “but if we’d known it was going to eat into our set, we’d have shown up an hour earlier to do soundcheck.”
This isn’t Seed Productions’ fault, really. It’s more indicative of a discussion bands and organizers need to have at every festival. Bands should be allowed to bring their own sound guys with; someone who knows their idiosyncrasies and when to do what, instead of somebody who is figuring it all out on the fly without as much investment in the finished product. Organisers, meanwhile, should be a bit more accommodating if a band runs over time because of events that are outside their control. Both parties here seemed to handle it as best they could given the time constraints.
Things turned around dramatically as the day progressed, and Sowing The Seeds certainly provided the absolute best in local talent, mixing in a bevy of fresh up-and-comers with established talents. From The Brother Moves On to Jeremy Loops, Skabengas to Wrestlerish, they did an incredible job of selecting the right sound to suit the vibe. Everything was pretty chilled and folkish during daylight, with Tidal Waves carrying the crowd on a cloud of strange but familiar smoke into an evening headlined by the country’s best live acts: Desmond & The Tutus, Shadowclub, Goldfish and PH Fat. Somewhere along the way, Deep Fried Man took to a smaller stage along the dirt road to entertain a growing crowd. I’m not a fan but together with a hilariously foul-mouthed associate, he kept the group laughing, either at themselves or to avoid losing valuable social standing with their friends. Either way it was nice to see an odd little pocket form around this whole other kind of performance. That’s definitely another avenue Seed and Converse should look into next year. Same goes for the DJs, who included local familiars like Dr Khumalo and Moejoe as well as others like Toby2shoes and Lil Bow.
If I’m sounding overly critical, it’s just because you don’t know how desperately I want this event to succeed. If I could identify a key problem, it’s that I’m not sure Seed had quite figured out what they wanted to do with the thing. Was this meant to be a sophisticated brand activation and advertisement for October’s “Rocking The Daisies” – drawing a new crowd to that massively successful event – or was this going to be Gauteng’s new festival to make up for our usually-lacklustre events like Ramfest? The fact that the rules were loosened up as the day went on illustrated their willingness to listen in, pick up on any problems and solve them by freeing things up. Booze was eventually allowed beyond the gates and the sound was mostly crisp for each and every band that followed on from the morning’s unfortunate fumbles. As far as getting people to “Daisies”, I think they did a great job, but there’s still a long way to go if the seeds they planted out here are gonna bloom. Still, I think this is what they wanted. An event like this has to be an investment, and it’s one I really, really hope they continue to work at and improve upon with each new attempt.
One other thing, guys. While the crowd certainly arrived by the thousands as planned, that ‘parking lot’ we wanted to camp in stayed empty all weekend long. Please let us use it for mass debauchery next year.