Rocking the Daisies, in partnership with Oppikoppi, are excited to be growing the newest edition of the festival brand, Rocking the Gardens. The one day event at Emmarentia Dam in Gauteng on 3 October 2009 will host some of SA’s hottest bands and will offer Johannesburg the best in live entertainment, lifestyle exhibitions and gourmet food.

Taking a leaf from Rocking the Daisies, South Africa’s premier eco-friendly music and lifestyle festival, Rocking the Gardens too will be ‘green’. By partnering with Food and Trees for Africa, and other leading NGO’s, the event will continue to spread the ‘play hard, tread lightly’ message in the Northern regions of South Africa. The line-up: Just Jinjer, Bed on Bricks, Freshlyground, aKING, and many more. Tickets for this rocking one-day event can be found online at www.tunegum.co.za for R100 or at the door for R130. Go to www.rockingthegardens.com for more info.

The original Rocking the Daisies festival will be taking place one week later over the weekend of 9-11 Oktober 2009 at Kloof Estate in Darling. Go to www.rockingthedaisies.com for more info!

From Red Fox Newsletter number 135

Okay, so it’s no secret – I am a sheltered Durban ‘Indian’ girl with not much of a sense of what South Africa is really like. Sure enough, I have travelled, but the South Africa I have been seeing over the last six months has turned my perception of my beautiful Land on its head. Oppikoppi is no different.

Firstly, my Afrikaans sucks monkey balls. Whatever I thought I knew about the language is laughable.

Secondly, I am not a seasoned camper, as I initially thought.

Thirdly, I don’t know nearly as much about South African music as I should. For fuck’s sake…I didn’t even know Fokof-aKing-Van Coke are all pretty much the same band!

Welcome to Oppikoppi

The drive, although a sleepy one, is quite jarring for me, culturally. All the signs are in Afrikaans and the dryness doesn’t help my befuddled state of mind. The only source of amusement is Kosta’s driving, Murray’s dry sense of humour and the arbitrary side-of-road signboard, one of which has a big white arrow and read “Best Blerrie Brekvis”.

Driving around the farm, I stick out like a wart. An Indian at Oppi. Not a common sight. In fact, I think I am the only one there.

Going giddig-giddig around the dirt road, we struggle to find our designated camping site. The sights we encountered are classic. Beer cans hang from trees; cars with “OppiKoppi” painted on the sides or etched into the dust. Asking for directions is hopeless.

Murray: Do you know where the fuck we are, dude?

Random: You’re at Oppi fuckin’ kopi!

Murray: Okay then…

Beer cans in a tree - A tradition of Oppi

Arriving at Oppi, the first thought that comes to mind is to compare it to Splashy Fen. Oppi is so different, the two festivals could be seen as being held on two different planets. Splashy is hippy, esoteric and has the whole one-with-love-nature-and-music vibe.

Oppi is just one fuckoff big party. With tents. Big tents.

We have a pink tent. Much to Murray’s dissatisfaction and my amusement. Putting it up isn’t hard but when you have two Capetonians around (who, if they were more laid back would be moving backwards); it becomes a mission to get things done quickly. We barely manage to get the campsite set up before sunset.

The sunset over the farm - a stunning sight to behold.

As the light fade, the bands emerge and the beauty of the camaraderie of a festival surfaces. The setup of the festival is seamless. It’s intimate, but not pervasive. Each stage is separated enough for the crowds to appreciate whichever band they were watching at the time and close enough to walk to without stumbling over rocks and suffering a concussion. Well, for the most part. And the beer tent is central. Awesome.

That first night, aside from one tequila making me tipsy, I am kind of drunk on the vibe. The Black Hotels, Bed on Bricks and Crash Car Burn are their usual selves. Who impresses me is Reeburth, a rock band out of Soweto. They are young, a bit immature, maybe and they need to develop a style which is their own but it’s early days for them. They will get there.

Reeburth - Impressive stuff!

The night ends on a high with the good conversation seeing us through till 3am. And this is only day one.

———

The festival takes on a very different feel after a night of sleeping on the ground. You get up to the sound of guitars, djembes, people doing their morning routines and a very welcome, cold beer.

The winter sun shines arum white and gold over the farm as we make our way up to the main stage area. It’s a meeting of old friends, making new ones and slowly deteriorates into a piss-up. The smell of greasy food, pot and beer hangs in the air and starts to cling to your clothes.

It’s as if time stands still, reality is suspended and the outside world has ceased to exist.

Happiness is a cold beer and warm friends

Walking around with friends and beer is always a must. Armed with camera, sun block and beer, we set out on a mission – to find the party. Or for the party to find us. This results in shots on the koppi, meeting a few Dutchmen who try to dance to Bollywood songs but fail miserably and chilling around campsites belonging to total strangers.

I even climb a tree to take a picture of a guy sleeping on a couch in a tree. Clambering like an orang-utan, I manage to make it up to the middle of the tree. I settle in on the most comfortable spot I can find and start clicking away. And then I hear a crack. Silence. Crack. Holy shit. Thud. Into the campfire below. Ow.

Arb man in tree almost cost me my limbs!

I manage not to get burned and dust myself off. The things I do for a story.

As the bands pull in, we trek to watch them. I realise that I can never truly appreciate Afrikaans music like Van Coke Kartel because of my lack of understanding – not just of the language itself but the culture too. The actual music is great, though and I can appreciate that. I used to think of Afrikaans music as sokkie treffers. Not so. In fact, as one proverbial Afrikaner man with breasts larger than mine in the crowd explains lyrics to me, I begin to see how poetic the language can be.

Van Coke Kartel: I actually enjoyed this!

I have such mad love for South Africa but never before have I felt like such an outsider. Like I have no place in between Mandoza and Koos Kombuis. The only reason songs like Johnny is Nie Dood Nie and Lisa Se Klavier have any resonance in my life is because of the memories attached to them.

Koos Kombuis: Legendary

The evening brings on the chills and a line-up of bands which make me shiver in my boots from excitement. Durban band, The Arrows blows the crowd away and that is just the start of it. Taxi Violence delivers a performance nothing short of their usual standard. Foto Na Dans are epic. Their theatrical style and larger-than-life lighting and stage presence make their performance one I will never forget. If only I understood the bloody lyrics!

Foto Na Dans: Almost as epic as Knights of Cydonia!

My pick of the day, however, is Belgian act, Balthazar. In fact, not much could top their performance. They are energetic and slick. Their sound is rich and they are going to go places. Even though their spoken English is broken and hilarious to listen to, their lyrics are contemporary and fun. They are just a great band.

———

Sunday morning brings on the first signs of liver failure. Crawling out of the tent, it feels as if I am going to die. Surely this is hell.

A cold shower manages to do the trick of waking me up and the prospect of a blockbuster line-up for the day is motivation enough to leave the campsite.

Touring the facility. Following Murray isn't easy - I'm scared of heights!

The Shadowclub is the first band I pay attention to. I have already described them as being heavy, but not unbearable; emotional, but not too whiney and pretty much a kick-back to a time when mainstream rock was good. This time, their performance was great but they showed signs of becoming cocky.

The Shadowclub: Sleazy rock which I like a lot, aside from the hot lead singer

The afternoon brings in Dutch band, Voicst. There’s also Ashtray Electric and Josie Field. Voicst are impressive. This three-piece indie band sound like they stumbled upon the fact that they were all great musicians and decided to make music just for the laughs. And they’re doing it bloody well so far. Rolling Stone describes them as “potent power pop-rock that wipes enough fashion-punk snot in your ears to keep things from sounding sanitized”.

My ears should be used to this by now but the constant shouting “Oppiiiiiiiiiiiii”, and some other lost mofo on the other side of the farm shouting back “Koppiiiiiiiii” still makes me jump.

The crowd oppi koppi

Listening to the silken-voiced Josie Field is a magical experience. She mesmerises with the simplicity of her music and her powerful vocals. She is aesthetically pleasing in every way and the sun melting into the horizon behind her is the perfect accompaniment to her performance.

Ah, Josie. She's just stunning in every way

I haven’t seen much of The Tidal Waves before but I definitely will be seeing more and more of them. They aren’t your usual reggae band. They use more than one drum beat and bass line. They’re undoubtedly talented but live, they are phenomenal. They rock out, get the crowd rocking out and the response from the audience screaming for an encore is proof of their mastery.

If The Dirty Skirts don’t make it big internationally, there is no hope for music. Aside from their larger-than-life stage presence and showmanship, the music is nothing short of magnificent.

The Dirty Skirts: Rolling like thunder

Interviewing kidofdoom is a highlight. Watching them is even better. As a live act, they are shoe-gazing and they let the music speak for itself. They wear jeans, worn-out sneakers and sweaters, and say no more than seven words to the crowd.

They don’t really need to. Their epic guitar riffs, maniacal drumming, deep-space bass and classic John Williams-inspired keys do all the talking. “We also have awesome lighting so we don’t look like such nerds,” says lead guitarist, Ryk Benade.

Barend: The one with the cute smile

Let me not talk about Zebra & Giraffe. I am biased. I love this band way too much.

Zebra & Giraffe: I know every word to every song!

I haven’t seen The Parlotones live for about a year after seeing every single one of their gigs in Durban since 2006. They are masterful. But they don’t pitch up for my interview and I am pissed off. They are currently working on a new album and by the sound of the new songs they play, it’s classic Parlotones.

The Parlotones: Classic!

I finally understand why “Par-tie, par-tie, par-tie, par-tie, hosssaaaaaaaaaaa!” is a line which people scream constantly. Die Antwoord’s Doos Dronk, permeates the air and all I can think of before joining in is “WTF?”

Now, Fokofpolisiekar have been a bone of contention in my knowledge of South African music. I never paid much attention to them and this has been a kind of pitfall in my appreciation for Afrikaans music. This time, however, I give them a good listen. It is in the middle of the crowd and with good friends explaining songs to me that I feel as if I were part of something greater than I have known for a long time. I learnt the term ‘gees’ this weekend and this is exactly what I feel watching Fokof.

The crowd for Fokof: I was surrounded!!!!

The rest of the night ensues with drinking, hearing guitars and singing around campfires and even seeing the drummer from Zebra & Giraffe passed out on the grass. As sleep comes over me, I feel a sense of belonging.

———

Leaving is never a happy feeling, as much as I want a shower and my bed. I leave Oppi with a new sense of what South Africa is and what South African music means to me. This is my first time at the greatest music festival in our beautiful country. It definitely won’t be the last.

We get up to the smell of chunda, old braai and wood fire. Packing up is harder than setting up as things don’t fit into bags, tents don’t roll up as they should and you end up stepping over casualties of the weekend like broken beer bottles and other people who you once knew to be sober.

The drive home brings on bad food from the Pick n Pay in Brits, warm coke and a snooze. Getting home and showering is a feeling beyond my wildest dreams at that point.

Sleep is on the agenda. Here’s to a great Oppi fuckin’ koppi!

Right, so Oppikoppi this year was rad. 4 days of chilling with mates, drinking and just being friendly. Just, I think some people, including me, should learn a few hints and tips before going.

• Oppi has lots of big scary thorns. Try avoid standing on them. They make you dance like a doos.
• Drinking an entire bottle of cane on your own, on an empty stomach is a bad idea. You fall over and your friends laugh at you.
• Things have this ability to wander round your campsite and visit your neighbour’s tents. Before it is lost, look at your friends place, maybe your cooler box just was being friendly.
• If you can’t find things at your friends, hold a service to wish it goodbye. It is gone forever
• Bring a big plastic container to put your drinks in. This stops you going to get refills every 5 mins.
• If you don’t like someone, ignore him or her. Do not be a doosface and irritate them and their mates. Otherwise, people think you are a super doos.
• Try work with nature. Days are hot and nights are cold. Mixing t-shirts and jerseys in varying combinations can result in a pleasant experience.
• You will return home with Oppi-Sickness. This is hangover, dust, tiredness, scratches, hunger and just general weariness all mixed up.
• The medic people say that Oppi people tend to enjoy walking into their braai fire. This is generally a bad idea.
• Similarly, opening bottles with your teeth/hands/car hood/friends hands tends to result in lots of broken glass and cut hands. Try remember a bottle opener.
• Vaguely plan to see certain bands. Then forget the plan and watch whoever seems good at the time.

I probably forgot a lot, but try stick within these for a good weekend in the bushveld.

Om te gaan of nie te gaan nie….

With all the hype surrounding Oppikoppi, it always seemed like the Ampli5 gigs were destined to be the legendary event’s poor relative. And even though it might be slightly warmer with a little less dust swilling about indoors, a dingy stadium can never really rival the great outdoors. It seemed like the organisers realised this at the last minute, and even though they slashed all standing ticket prices in half a few days before the event, the Bellville Velodrome in Cape Town was still surprisingly empty.

On the bill was a handful of the big guns from the main event, and although a little jaded after three gigs in a row, those that played the Cape Town gig generally didn’t disappoint. The three local rock outfits were tight but seemed pretty disinterested in proceedings. This was surprising, especially in the case of Fokofpolisiekar who normally hold the crowd in the palms of their hands. But this time the usual antics from Francois van Coke and the boys were unfortunately nowhere to be seen. Even the sorry MC who introduced the band was timid, and was drowned out with jeers from the crowd when he was too afraid to use the band’s full name. Only Corne and Twakkie could salvage this later when they made full use of the opportunity to swear their hearts out. Love Jones were their usual polished selves, and even though lead singer Esjay provides their only real stage presence, they managed to hold their own. The Parlotones followed a similar formula, and the crowd’s reaction to their performance was indicative of their growing success. A little bizarre was the bands attempt to jump on the Afrikaans bandwagon, and Kahn Morbee’s brit-pop sounding voice seemed a bit out of place. As Max Normal leapt onto stage in their now established attire, it was clear that no expenses were spared on the sound set-up, and it was refreshing to see a local band using this to its full potential. Even though I still struggle to enjoy partner in crime Yolandi’s grating voice and the hilarious but in-your-face male nudity in the accompanying slideshow, the beats were polished and Mr Normal rocked the crowd. Unlike at many of their smaller club gigs, the crowd actually caught some of the jokes and knew some of the lyrics, and the crew rose to the occasion. Even though the performance was far from the standards set by the original Max Normal crew, on the night they were the pick of the local bunch, if only because of Waddy’s brave stage diving attempt into the dangerously thin crowd. The international groups also had their ups and downs. The Young Blood Brass Band, without a doubt my highlight of the night, quite literally blew the crowd away, and it was great to see an international outfit as unique as they are playing on a local stage. Jimmy Eat World was mediocre and only really saved by their well known hits; everything else came across as the band just going through the motions. The Violent Femmes, with their unique instruments and wacky folk-punk drawls, outperformed most of the other bands on the night. Even though they look like they should be enjoying a relaxing retirement, the Femmes got the crowd jumping with favourites like Blister in the Sun and American Music.

These generally ‘rock’ performances then left it for the Loose Cannons and Groove Armada to finish off with a bang, which they managed to do. But it was a tough crowd, and quite a few of their tracks fell on bored and tired ears. Nevertheless, as with all of the performances on the night, when the big hits came out and the deep base managed to shake ever corner of the large venue, it seemed to make everything worthwhile.

Published on www.levi.co.za/musicmag