the camden brawl
Friday, April 25th, 2008bah. and indeed humbug. Am I the only one that’s come away from last weekend’s Camden Crawl with a fetid taste in my mouth? and no, it’s not due to a late night binge at the Marathon, but a sneaking suspicion that this event may actually be rather cynical. i know, depressing isn’t it? yet more unscrupulous buggers extracting the urine in order to extract some cash from the music scene.
I’d previously been a bit of a champion for the Crawl, the idea of one of the world’s most famous musical locations opening up its many live venues for a couple of days of untrammelled indie meanderings was immensely appealing, but this year they jumped the shark.
The gigs were oversold, resulting in huge queues, thereby negating the main draw of the Crawl - the idea that one could traipse from venue to venue catching great up and coming bands. Hardly any of the bands were paid, believing mistakenly, that they would get some much needed exposure by playing. Sadly, most of the bands got no coverage, due to the fact that media passes were rarer than an early night for Kate Moss. Most of the people getting involved in the event were asked either to provide their services for free or were offered co branding. The main line sponsors paid a hefty whack, yet none of this cash was reflected in increased venues, payment for the bands or any form of investment in the very scene that’s generating so much money for them. Now maybe I’m being dreadfully old school here but that strikes me as cynical.
I could go on, but for me the most heartbreaking thing was seeing piles of folk who’d travelled down to London for the event, only to spend most of their time queueing in the pouring rain in order to catch a glimpse of a band before heading off to queue for another one. Tickets aren’t cheap, so surely they should at least guarantee that you’ll see some of the bands you came to see? or am i being naive again…? from where I’m stood though, the only people that spent money were the bands and the fans, whilst the only people making it and benefitting were the organisers.
Making the album was a painstaking experience. They spent many sleepless nights in a bedroom studio with only the ventilation of a rickety old fan propped in the corner. Whatever Stars did, it worked. So much so that acclaimed British producer Ian Catt (Saint Etienne) enthusiastically volunteered to mix three songs. The other eight songs on the album were mixed by Canadian producer Dave Hodge (Brand Van 3000, Wu-Tang Clan). The result is a scintillating work of art, a pop music masterpiece. “Heart” will be remembered because the songs are beautiful, and to Stars, beauty is what will save us. 
“this is how i am feeling…and i don’t exactly know what to do with it”"come visit me” she said “and we will figure it out together”i packed my bags. three pairs of pants. two shirts. and one old notebook that i had yet to press a pen to. i kissed ella on the cheek and said. “i will see you when it’s sorted.” for two days we sat in silence on that beach and listened to the waves. foolishly, i waited for an answer to wash up on to the shore. but by my sandy feet there was only an old rusty bottle cap to speak of. this was of no surprise to me.”nothing is easy” i thought.”yes” she said aloud, “everything is possible!”i looked at her. as deep into her big eyes as i could stand. it was such a simple four word statement. yet, it sat inside me with the strength of dynamite. little explosions started going off in my head that got bigger and bigger and bigger. with my lips slightly moving to the beat of the moment, i kept repeating her words over and over to myself…
“yes…everything is possible, yes…everything is possible, yes…everything is possible.”she sat back on her elbows and stretched out in the sun.”you know” she said. “the thing with you, is that you somehow managed to take a tiny percent of yourself, the smallest fraction, and turn it into your only equation. in this life, there are so many sides to everything. and that includes you. you have so many things waiting to come out…and yet you insist on building from only one part of yourself. you wouldn’t point to your pinky and say this is my entire body. just like you wouldn’t look at one branch and declare that this is a tree. but if you add all of the little puzzle pieces together, it makes up one entire picture. but right now, how you live, and how you create, you are just a little torn corner of a photograph. and i know deep inside you, even more so than me, you are dying to see what’s in the rest of the frame”she continued….”a single hand can write several stories. you have made your point. You have said everything you can about it. lay that old character aside for a minute and allow yourself to make some new ones. put them in films, paintings, poems or songs. give them different names if you like…they can be heroes or villains, it doesn’t matter. but what does matter is that all of them together, standing side by side, will make up one thing as a whole…and that’s you. be brand new, let yourself have the innocence of a kid again. have it be your call to arms…make a revival out of it.”i reached into my bag and pulled out my crumpled, empty notebook. she handed me a pen that was resting in secret behind her ear that suggested she knew all along that this is where the story would begin . i scribbled out four words of my own…”THE NEW KID REVIVAL”she looked at the smudged ink, gently smiled and said…”i guess you’re ready to go home now.”
