THE END

We arrived back burnt, blistered and buggered at Dublin Port to take the ferry home. With several hours to go before departure, we walked up to O’Connell street to check out the music shops. On arriving we saw a magnificent tapered, soaring stainless steel pinnacle whose pin-sharp peak appeared to prick the clouds. We saw a huge bronze of a hand cradling what must be one of the most beautifully proportioned historic buildings I have ever seen; the contemporary living in perfect harmony with antiquity.

On our return to the ferry, we walked along the concrete river shore to catch what little there was of a sea breeze in the stifling city heat. We came across the most compelling and pitiful group of bronze figures; the most wondrous depictions of victims of the Potato Famine. It was the most moving pieces of art I’ve ever seen.

We then caught site of an anchored, perfectly symmetrical, old wood sailboat dipping gently in the water. I asked a man what it was and he explained that it was an example of the Death Ships in which so many poor Irish people perished in their desperate quest for a better life across the ocean. He added, “It’s hard to believe it was just 100 years ago.”

Then there were the concrete cows. A number of these were given as blank canvases to Irish artists by the Dublin City Council to create their own finished works of art. The results are amazing. One was painted as a tiger with a fearsome look complete with threatening, bared fangs. Another was painted with vegetable and cutlery motives to depict our fetish for dead meat. Earlier I had seen another that was being patted on the head by shoppers, almost as a matter of routine. The people’s art….

But there was also a stark irony. Almost adjacent to the Potato Famine artefacts was a derelict site due for development as part of the huge Spencer Dock Development scheme. Hoardings proclaimed it as offering over three million square feet of prime office space and luxury penthouses with panoramic views. I wondered how much of this space would be allocated to ordinary people who needed a home. In one short walk we had seen examples of Ireland’s history, it’s cultural sophistication, and its rampant new economic order.

SURPRISE, SURPRISE?

When we finally boarded our ferry, I looked through all the newspaper reports of the Witnness Festival, 2003. Unsurprised, but disappointed, the stories majored on a celebrity Irish chef attendee, Chris Martin and you know who; Nicole and Natalie Appletons’ breast motif T-shirts; stripped bikini-clad fans (didn’t see one and not for the want of searching!), major drug/public problem (67 arrests in two days - out of a total of over 90,000 visitors, a major problem?), and the various tributes by onstage acts to absentees The White Stripes. There was little about the wonderful musical performances by Ireland’s best bands and singer/songwriters. I wondered if we had attended the same festival………

ANOTHER WITNNESS TRIUMPH?

Two sunny days, 100 acts, 400 performers, 100 food stalls, fabulous and frightening fairground attractions, much more open space, great camping facilities, parking for over 10,000 cars, a few inevitable technical hitches, humane security - the fans loved it and many I spoke to reckoned it was the best ever. After two consecutive years of mud at the previous venue, we too should have been grateful, but, the distances we had to walk at Punchestown proved a killer, and especially in the heat and dust. Still, we survived it and in the process covered a host of eclectic, excellent acts. The fest lacked a major metal band like the mighty Metallica or Deftones or Linkin Park or major goth growers like Evanescence, but otherwise there was something for everyone (and certainly enough for the newspapers to headline). The Sugarbabes and Appleton attracted major press interest but they seemed out of place at a festival attended by mature young people with sophisticated musical tastes. Despite the presence of headline act Coldplay, our personal favourite performances were by: The Frames, The Revs, Roots, Rubyhorse, Jerry Fish & The Mudbug Club, Bell X1, Damien Rice, Supergrass, Cardigans, Flaming Lips, Woodstar, InMe, The Streets, Mundy, Paddy Casey, David Gray, and Calexico. If you’re wondering why Gemma Hayes doesn’t figure in our list, you’ll find out later. Top performance of the fest went to the Frames.

Oh, and Witnness 2003 was indeed a triumph.

THE BEGINNING

Another smooth, friendly and bargain-priced ferry trip courtesy of P&O from Mostyn (only thirty minutes from our home locations) ended at Dublin Port where we joined the rush-hour traffic to reach Witnness’s new home at the Punchestown racecourse. We found it (some twenty-five miles from Dublin city centre) nestled in glorious rolling countryside. It was Friday evening and we had to find a parking spot to bed down for the first of three car-bound nights. The festival’s helpful security people allowed us into the staff car park where we had a superb view of the main stage. Lovely Grace from promoter MCD provided us with press passes and we were almost set for the festival. Before retiring for the night, we wandered through the rather desolate festival grounds to get a feel for the ambience and logistics. This year there was much more space but it also meant that the distances that needed to be covered by us in properly reporting the festival were doubled (at least). With hot weather in prospect, rock-hard ground, record crowds; the massive distance of the press ferrying point to the majority of stages; and the weight of gear we had to carry around, it was time for me to try and remember The Jockey’s Prayer - Our Father which art in Punchestown…….

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DAY 1

I had already scheduled and mapped out the coverage for the first day at Witnness from the great guide provided by the excellent Irish Hot Press magazine. With the long distances between the press office and three of the stages, it was impossible for us to cover everything, and some acts had to give, but we did plan to cover the Dance venue for the first time.

The line-up was arguably weaker than in 2002 but the Irish content was the best ever. Our primary aim at Witnness is always to cover the maximum number of local acts and my first trip of the day was to the Upstage to see Irish bands The Answer and Alphastates. This venue was the closest to our assembly point and located on a rather dour tarmacadam parking area. With just a few enthusiastic early-starters, the ambience was quite cold and soulless, and a challenge to any act trying to drum up interest. Both bands made a good fist of it but I was less than enthusiastic about their music. I made a mental note to get hold of their albums to make a more considered judgement later.

My next trip was back to this venue to watch Rubyhorse, an Irish band who now reside and perform in the USA with growing success. I could see why. A glam leadman with a mountainous voice, heaps of charisma and a great band performing driving, anthemic rock music with more than a hint of melody. The crowd had grown dramatically with many punters obviously making a beeline for their departed friends. One of the day’s best performances.

Time to wear out some shoe leather and the long trek to the On Stage to see another Irish band called Berkeley. I’d recently heard the band’s album sampler and was impressed with the rawness of their rock music. This three-piece from Donegal proved their live credentials to a tent packed full of fans.

10 Speed Racer is another Irish band and one recommended to me by an associate. I was expecting fireworks from this punk rock band but it didn’t happen…

I saw The Revs at last year’s Witnness and more recently at a small venue in Liverpool. During our interview they impressed with their enthusiasm and openness. The band has been travelling the world spreading their youthful rock messages, and when their turn came to appear on the Main Stage it seemed every punter wanted a slice of the action; there was a sudden rush for the stage from all parts of the racecourse. Their performance was the best I’ve seen from them so far and raised puzzled thoughts over why this band appears to be dragging behind The Thrills in the UK sales and hype stakes. The Revs perform far better live and their new album beats the shit out of The Thrills rather ordinary Beach Boys/Grandaddy/Flaming Lips tribute debut album.

And yet another Irish act, Mundy, who I managed to hear from some distance and grab a few shots. The Rev’s huge audience stayed put to see him, backed by a full band. Cowboy-hatted Mundy covered the spectrum of mood and pace in providing another highlight of the festival.

Mark Geary, who has resided in the States for several years, was next up on the Upstage that by then had filled nicely, almost hiding the cold-hearted tarmacadam. The trend emerged of solo artists performing with full backing bands, and Geary was no exception. A great set of folky adult pop ensued. So far, so Irish. Later in the day, Badly Drawn Boy bucked the trend by performing on his own on the massive Main Stage in his typical ramshackle way. His performance was rated by us as the worst of the festival.

Time for a maverick Liverpool group. The Coral appeared on stage in black funeral director suits with leadman Skelly dangling a steam iron from under his black velvet topper. The crowd loved it and then the band commenced a great set that included the new single, Pass It On from the new forthcoming album and favourites from their Mercury Music Prize nominated debut album.

By mid-afternoon the heat was intense and with a dust haze hung over the grounds, it was beginning to look like a scene from the Wild West. It was time to visit gentle Canadian singer/songwriter Ron Sexsmith at the Rising tent. I admit to not being a great fan of his recordings, but live, a vulnerable looking Sexsmith delivered an intense, emotional and very moving performance.

Turn is another excellent Irish band and they were next on my schedule at the On Stage tent. Last year I missed their Witnness performance and was therefore intent on catching them in 2003. Turn possess an acute instinct for a great melody and the ability to connect with their audience like Liquid Nails. Another large crowd were treated to an easy-going and diverse set of the band’s classics, together with some songs from the forthcoming album.

My associate covered the Sugarbabes performance at the Main Stage while I listened to them from afar. They sounded and looked like a half-decent pub act as they tried to do their hesitant dance steps and talk to an audience that seemed less responsive than most others on the day. At one point a punter threw a beach ball onto the stage that the girls kept as a souvenir…hello! Ultimately, the Witnness audience proved too mature and savvy for this overrated threesome.

From the Sugarbabes to Death In Vegas in the massive brick-built Dance venue. My associate found them in an obscure corner twirling the decks and working their magic almost unseen by the bouncing capacity audience.

I headed back to the Upstage to see The Roots while my associate headed for delectable twosome, Appleton. I read in the Sunday paper that the girls had wanted to ’spend more time with their fans’ rather than spend a lot of time drinking champers in the artists’ VIP area. They, ‘allegedly’, went wandering amongst fans and during their set (which was described by my mate as, ‘at least they sang in tune’), apparently, Natalie stormed off stage shouting into the mic, “We love you, we love Ireland but the sound sucks.” One would have thought that with all this love for fans, they would have made a little more effort to live with it?

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At the Upstage there was almost an hour’s delay for the Roots performance. I understand that there were flight problems but eventually the band appeared after making some extensive last-minute adjustments to just about everything on stage. MC Black modestly announced, “We are the legendary Roots from Philadelphia” and with that one of the very few hip-hop acts at the festival proceeded to back up the claim. The blinding set included one of the several tributes to The White Stripes by major acts when the song, Even The Seed (2.0) suddenly turned into Seven Nation Army.

I’m told that Supergrass are wonderful live. They are. In fact, amongst the more established UK bands present, they were the best. Leadman Coombes bounced onto the stage with a massive grin on his face and you just knew this was going to be an enjoyable performance. Old favourites and new material were performed with abandon and the large Main Stage crowd lapped it up.

Mogwai’s new album had re-awakened my interest in the band who were performing way down at the Rising tent. A major technical problem meant they had to leave the stage just minutes after entering it. The sound guys scratched heads, fiddled with switches and unplugged/plugged various cables - but to no avail. It became so late that I had to leave the venue to catch the next act at the Main Stage.

With minutes to spare before Damien Rice on the Main Stage, I managed to catch The Streets back at the Upstage. Mike Skinner stalking the stage with his fellow rapper in front of the band convinced me that this is one special performer and writer. In front one of the most enthusiastic and vocal crowds of the day, Skinner, with total ease and confidence (sporting a half-full bottle of the best Irish fire-water); and with little superfluous drama; delivered one of the sets of the festival.

Like David Gray’s WHITE LADDER back in 1999, we raved over Damien Rice’s ‘O’ album many months before the music media even knew of its existence. It’s therefore with a high level of satisfaction on our part that Rice, like Gray, is now enjoying success on both sides of the Atlantic. From the aspiring Rising tent in 2002, Rice had been elevated to main support to Coldplay, and in just one short year!

Backed by his willowy and wonderful backing singer Lisa Hannigan, Vyvienne Long on cello, plus bassist and drummer, Rice gave the best performance I have seen from him. Songs from his classic debut album (including Volcano, The Blower’s Daugher, Amie, and Cannonball) made up most of the set-list and the audience sang along with gusto. An attempt to sing Cohen’s Hallelujah didn’t quite work but it was a minor blemish from one of the best singer/songwriters to emerge in recent years.

And then the major disappointment of the festival. Rain and mud at last year’s Witnness caused one of the stages to sink and ultimate abandonment. It was the stage that Gemma Hayes was due to appear on following an arduous 18 hour coach journey. Hayes was naturally very upset at not being able to perform to a large and expectant home audience. The prospect of seeing her at Witnness 2003 excited the whole press corp who waited patiently outside the Rising tent while Mogwai completed their delayed set. Rather than cut their set short, Mogwai ploughed on until it became obvious that we would all had to leave to catch Coldplay. We pleaded to be allowed back to the Rising tent after Coldplay’s first three songs but were told that it was impossible. So if you’re reading this Gemma, we tried desperately to see you but failed, which is why the press pit was rather empty. A very major disappointment.

How Coldplay has changed. Designer suits, designer sets, mathematical slickness, and a disappointing distance from their live audience. A jovial looking Chris Martin hunched over his keyboard started the set with by far the best song from the most recent album, Politik. The song’s driving beat, distinctive instrumentals and an animated leadman provided an exciting and inspired start to the show. Martin’s declaration that the band only had two hit singles was emphasised by the lack of impact many other songs on the set-list had. Even Yellow failed to lift things for me. It appeared to me to be a ‘them and us’ show; technically perfect but only marginally involving (the dim lighting I believe helped create the barrier and made this feel more like a cabaret show rather than a full-on, open-air rock concert).

The other band members also seemed tucked away as they were in the dim, dark shadows - obedient and static. I expected more of a band regarded by many as one of the world’s best bands, but maybe they are more suited to more intimate concert hall venues? In any event, the massed ranks of Coldplay fans loved it. Maybe I was expecting too much?

It was time to head back to our car parked very close to the Rising and On Stage tents. As I passed them I caught performances by the techno pop masters Royksopp, and the excellent USA singer/songwriter Jesse Malin. They were only fleeting glimpses of two quality acts as by that point I was exhausted and in desperate need of drink and rest. As I sat in my car, I could see Coldplay in the distance on the large screens each side of the stage, with Chris Martin a dot on the massive stage. I could also just make out a sea of what must have been at least 30,000 audience heads. And with this incredible, surreal panorama in front of me, I fell asleep.