All Stories (RSS)
Crossfade Reviewed: Nettie Falls In Love
Crossfade is The Big Chill's first venture into book publishing. Published to coincide with the festival's 10th birthday it offers ten essays written on different music genres or eras by handpicked Big Chiller contributors, each from an enthusiasts' perspective. Aimed at anyone interested in music - whether a novice or a music expert - we thought why not get two very different people, with different perspectives on The Big Chill, to record their responses to the book. Here are the results.To read Nettie's review, drawn from a newcomer's perspective, read on. To read Freddie B's review, drawn from a Big Chill stalwart's standpoint, click through.
Before opening this book, I thought; "Pay attention, Nettie, because you'll learn lots". I'm a relative newcomer to The Big Chill - my first Big Chill being Enchanted Garden, 2002 - and I'm also not English, so I've got some catching up to do.
Susanna Glaser, The Legendary Jesse Belle, has probably produced the best opening chapter I've read for a long time (and I'm a book nut working in publishing). Jesse Belle performed as a pianist at this year's Eastnor marrying her classical past and her electronic present. Her comments on her father welled me up smilingly amongst the excitement she so naturally portrays with her passion for music, making it personal, open and inviting.
"I'm here to tell you that Chill Out music is bloody marvellous", says Ally Fogg (also known as Enchanted Gordon). And he does so very charmingly. He made me laugh out loud with his caveman analogy, which leads him to define the coat of chill-out music as a genre encompassing all genres of music and not the coffee-table compilations that Cosmo would have us believe. "Modern Chill-Out music is a wondrous sonic soup of genres, styles, techniques and instrumentation." This is probably the best definition of chill-out, I can think of. Mmm. Soup.
Onto the enigma that is Mr. Pete Lawrence and his passion for folk music. Pete's love-affair with folk music started at the tender age of 10 and later on he explains; "I was fast developing a taste for music that I had to dig a little deeper to find", which is at the heart of the Big Chill; discovering 'new', either in time or in heart, music and giving it a platform. I, for one, have had my heart, soul and mind opened to never dismiss any genre of music through the Big Chill and for that I am eternally grateful. Pete's nostalgia and love of English festivals (handy, you may say), folk music and ye olde dance traditions, gives insight into some of the underlying principles of the Big Chill ethos.
Finally, thanks to Pete for using words such as 'anachronistic', 'cognoscenti', 'hurdy-gurdy' (hmm), 'kora', 'sackbuts' and 'Gorodisch' and most importantly, for getting to the roots of English music culture and heritage.
Tony Marcus'd essay explores the concept of nostalgia with no mention of The Big Chill. This, to me, was key. As a newcomer and having had the privilege of working as an MC for the Big Chill, introducing performers and artists on stage, some completely unknown to me, I have often kicked myself for not finding this community sooner. I felt Tony's account of "back in the day" echoing this self-kicking. Lately, there has been some controversy (and allow me to add to it) over whether the Big Chill is growing too big. The root of nostalgia is that it triggers dreams of "home". Susanna pointed it out in her chapter. "At Enchanted Garden (1998), Jesse Belle made her Big Chill debut. She, I, had finally found a home." A feeling, I think, is shared by many musicians, DJs, VJs, healers and big chillers alike and I've certainly felt it, too. My first Big Chill was like a homecoming; feeling safe and free in a field full of beautiful loons with open minds. Marvellous!
Mixmaster Morris' energetic, and at times, cheeky essay on jazz is not only critical and political, but it oozes MMM himself. He breathes music and he searches it, but he doesn't dwell. After a fantastic insight into history of jazz culture, he says of the future: "So I want my nu jazz futuristic, not nostalgic, thank you", encouraging an open mind. So, the nostalgia isn't about keeping the status quo, - it's about keeping the faith, shaping music with it, if you like.
Now comes the explosion of house music in the UK. Hillegonda C. Rietveld, was there, falling off her chair at the Hacienda club in Manchester as backstage manager, kicking off the UK dance culture. As Hillegonda so beautifully puts it "Like newly weds we were in love with nothing but the feeling of just being, there, in the here and now, for eternity." Boing!
Going back in time slightly, Alan James provides a missing link, which to me sort of explained how The Big Chill embraces all kinds of music; "The early eighties scene started to make it possible to live with an increasingly eclectic record collection. It set scores of people off on audio discovery trips. It opened the sound gates to a whole new world. Music was no longer regimented into pop, rock and disco." AJ, what can I say? What a life so far you've had. [takes hat off]. Your Joe Strummer story is just beautiful.
What the 80s also brought was big business. Stuart Borthwick speaks of pop like it's going out of fashion. "What follows is not to be taken as a rose-tinted nostalgia trip. In the last twenty years we might have lost truly adventurous pop, but we gained a whole lot more. However, we still lost something, and it is the nature of this loss that concerns this essay." Once the enthusiasm, madness, energy, lunacy or whatever it is that drives artists to get up on stage and deliver their souls to us, we feel it. We can even see it. When music is created by business, the rawness and sheer joy can, by necessity, not be replaced by fame, image, choreography and record label money alone. This raw energy must not be stolen. It must be encouraged and shared. Again, it's about 'keeping the faith' to revive this slightly annoying cliche once more. And this is why it is so great, in my view, that the Big Chill isn't constantly bigged up in the book. It doesn't need to be. Although, Stuart, I take exception to "Duran Duran don't count, because they had no integrity in the first place". How dare you! ;-)
I don't think I'm being too bold, when I say that most big chillers are fairly politically and socially aware, pet peeves amongst us being intolerance, racism and exploitation. "This is a story of how music became a force for change", says Guy Morley as his opening line and he had me hooked. This essay merges politics with music with racism. Guy talks about the influences of African music and fondly recalls of The Bhundu Boys; "A touching common feeling transcended the differences in language. Even though many of the songs were not overtly political there was a deep sharing. When I say 'overtly political', remember that the bands I was into sang about smashing the state and eating the rich." He takes us on a journey of African music and, quite rightly, leaves the future open. As Africa embraces technology; where is the music going to go? Watch this space...
The last essay left me with nothing but smiles. DJ Derek for President! "I could never have guessed even twenty years ago that at the age of sixty-two I'd be coming up to play reggae music at some of London's fashionable clubs. It seems astounding. Sometimes, I just think, how the hell did this happen? I was an accountant, for God's sake. I could have had a salary twenty times what I'm making doing this. And an ulcer. And I'd be the most miserable man on earth. As it is, I've got just enough to get by on. I wouldn't change place with anybody else on earth". This chapter is so so much more than that. It's about love. DJ Derek Sweet Memory Sounds. 'Nuff said.
Finally, this book, to me, is a love story about history, music and creative energy for "a crowd uninterested in labels, searching for quality, not quantity, wanting to be stimulated and surprised, not pummelled into dance submission." (- Susanna). It turned out that paying attention came so easily and fluently that I didn't even have to pay attention; it soaked in and I bet when I read it again, even more will. The book is a journey, I think. Vicki Howard and Pete Lawrence have done a superb job in mixing these essays together.
Maybe this review is rather personal, but they started it. Can music be anything but personal, though? I doubt it.
Happy Birthday, Big Chill.
Nettie
Freddie B's review
Join us at the launch party!
Buy Crossfade here!
More about Crossfade here!
Read about the Words In Motion initiative here
Written: 22nd Sep, 04
Read: 2771 times
