Rockaway Beach

@ Butlin’s, Bognor Regis - Day Three

We must admit that Public Image Ltd had such an impact on us that sleep was hard to find last night. We were pumped for hours after they finished and morning came as a harsh surprise. The breakfast buffet from Butlin’s definitely helps though and we’re off to explore Bognor Regis before the music starts. The sparkling sun on the sea off the pier at Bognor is hypnotic and, returning to yesterday’s debate about the nature of Rockaway Beach, it’s difficult to argue about it’s festival status when you’re luxuriating in a steaming hot bath on a Sunday morning. We leave Captain Stavros to go to Baggio and fortify our spirits with a pint in a local pub.

We make it back to Centre Stage just as ‘70s punks, The Members, are warming up. Their laid back reggae infused tunes are the ideal Sunday afternoon fare, and are accompanied by tales of music industry shenanigans and other reminiscences. They’ve been playing together, on and off, for fifty years and are as shambolic as when they started. The Members come across less as punk rock legends and more like local legends; the school teachers group who nearly made it and still play at the town fete.

It’s been a disappointing Sunday on the music front but we’re hopeful that Inspiral Carpets and English Teacher will change that perspective and finish us off on a high note. Inspiral Carpets are probably better known now for their early association with Noel Gallagher than their involvement with the Manchester baggy scene. They rock harder than we recall, although that may merely be because the Doors style organ is lower in the mix than it was on their breakthrough records. That isn’t enough to carry the crowd along with the music though. There are sufficient Inspiral Carpets t-shirts on show to suggest they have a following but, for the most part, it’s uninspiring carpets. By the time we hear their signature tune, ‘This Is How It Feels’, the crowd has thinned significantly and their undercooked delivery fails to capture the hearts of the remaining audience.

It’s up to English Teacher to rescue a musically underwhelming day. We’ve somehow managed to avoid hearing them even though they’ve won the Mercury prize and are now closing out this festival. You can only imagine the horrified look on our faces when we realise they’re a fucking prog act! It’s all there; the self-indulgent tripe, the backs to the audience, the lack of hooks or acknowledgement that an audience is trying to enjoy their music, the inability to maintain a beat and or groove for four or more bars, it’s anathema to us. It’s a shame that the weekender has to end with this dross because up to now, it’s been enjoyable.

Overall impressions of Rockaway Beach

It would be disingenuous to end this on a sour note as it’s an enjoyable and unusual weekender. The crowd are laid back and generally considerate of each other. Many of them have already booked in for next year. There are plenty of eating and drinking options and the accommodation is above what you’d usually expect for a festival. Even though the quality of the music lineup was front loaded and peaked on the Saturday, we can think of worse ways to spend the first weekend of January. The timing is unique and makes for a great way to start the new year. There’s no roughing it here. The accommodation is plush, the venues are indoors and well laid out and  supplied. The staff are helpful and friendly. No queueing for toilets or food. It’s all paved and accessible. It’s not far, not hard to reach, you can hitch a ride to Rockaway Beach.

Rockaway Beach

@ Butlin’s, Bognor Regis - Day Two

It’s day two of the Rockaway Beach weekender in Butlin’s holiday camp, Bognor Regis and today started with a semantic debate about whether this counts as a festival or a resort. “Did you pack a tent or a sleeping bag? “asks Captain Stavros from the comfort of his double bed. He may have a point, and it is reinforced after our buffet breakfast and sojourn in the water park. We’ve never been to one of these with out being a kid, or shepherding a bunch of youngsters and it’s a wonderful experience to go on the slides without having to keep an eye on anyone. The vintage alternative rock coming out of the tannoy only adds to the vibe. We must concede the point but there is definitely a friendly festival vibe amongst the festival goers / guests / resort patrons. We make it to Centre Stage for the gothic shoe gaze of Winter Gardens, who live up to their name. Their Cure inspired tunes are pleasant enough but the harmonies never quite merge.

We Hate You, Please Die is a name designed to get attention and it certainly caught ours. From the opening, they don’t disappoint; lashings of heavy bass, clean telecaster, and thrashing drums back up the angry vocals from the French trio. It’s not just aimless noisemaking either. They aren’t afraid to switch up the tempo and dynamics, and the band never loses control over the music.

Home Counties waste no time hitting their groove. Some early problems with the mix are quickly ironed out and the duo of lead singers lay out hook after hook over a trio of synths and a very funky rhythm section. For an English pop band, they sound more like a Swedish group and bring to mind the noughties alt pop of Danish collective, Alphabeat.

All this euro pop has us to in the mood for dinner and the buffet hits the spot again. We’re coming round to the idea that every festival should have one! We enjoy the dinner a bit too much and miss half of Gans set, which we immediately regret. On record, this English duo sound like Nine Inch Nails clones but live they’ve more of a hardcore vibe, with an angry groove and catchy vocal interplay. The bass and drums merge seamlessly with the synths and their cheeky camaraderie and bluster is perfectly summed up by the Fuck Em All stencil on the synths and the Gans Is Good For The Soul backdrop. Gans are everything Soft Play promised to be before they got all bitter; a good time party band crossed with pedal to the metal energy, check them out immediately.

It’s distinctly odd, after two days of watching unsigned and/or independent bands to come into Studio 36 and see Public Image Ltd on stage. This is a new stage and dwarfs the Centre Stage. The lighting and screens are excellent, and the sound and view of the band are good from all round the room. As incongruous as it may be, it’s very welcome. John Lydon has been a contrarian for longer than most of us have been alive. And yes, his latter day incarnation is much harder to swallow but he remains a compelling performer and PiL are the band he has put most of his time into, even if The Sex Pistols retain more notoriety. A simple introduction of “This is PiL” instigates a ninety minute sermon of rousing, gurning, ululating post punk beauty. It’s a great way to spend the Saturday night of Rockaway Beach’s tenth iteration

40 minutes in and everyone who was just here to see Johnny Rotten or to hear some Pistols numbers has pissed off. The crowd has noticeably thinned out. The intensity from the band never dips though. Lydon may be a cunt, but he’s a funny cunt, a cantankerous one, and he never gives less than his maximum. his act feels like a catharsis for both himself and the audience. And he’s only trying to get a ‘Rise’ anyway.

Postscript: PiL’s interpretation of Leftfield’s ‘Open Up’, which they save for the encore is amazing.