Synergy :: Up, Up and Away!…

Synergy 2010

Before I start on my escapades in and out of consciousness and reality at this music festival I must point out a few things that I think, in all fairness, should be revealed purely for the goal of future gain by the promoters / hosts. I need to tell you a few bad things that I noticed before I can revel in the great.

Synergy is an amazing festival but upon arrival a few flaws were shown, cracks in the walls if you will. The people working the gates were unbelievably unhelpful, so far as to say, “It’s not my problem” when queried as to why a car, that was sent in and registered with the higher powers in their system, was not on a list that was obviously incomplete (due to the amount of people who were at this entrance who were not on it and should have been). I then had to wait for a budding friend to come and confirm my status with this unruly person, and after a 30 minute hall, my waiting and obvious discontentment was appeased as I was let into the parking that I was already supposed to be in half an hour before. But no stress, I was in, only to be led all around the place in a V-I-P-but-not-so-V-I-P area wherein there were no amenities, ablution facilities or media areas. This was then punctuated by an unruly woman at the second entrance (why there was a second entrance??) who walked up to us with a look of reproach that once again made us wait over a dispute over armbands; that was eventually sorted out!

Once inside we made a b-line straight for the electro stage. The sound was booming as Tommy-Gun took to the stage swindling us with his indie-electro prowess and turned the crowd from zero-to-hero in one easy move. Tommy-gun made it happen!

I grabbed a drink or two, took in the scenery, which seemed a bit disjointed, in-haled, then took to the stage to play my set. My set pumped. I loved it. In and out of genres I twisted and turned and the crowd returned the favour with a kind on enthusiasm you can only get from 1000 plus people moving to the same rhythm. It was epic. The crowd was amazing. In between songs I tossed my wallet to friends on either side of the stage in an attempt for me to get some drinks by them heading to the bar (ahem… synergy… ahem). I must admit this was probably the most fun I’ve ever had on stage. Everything I threw at the crowd got thrown back at me twice as hard with an unbelievable energy. All I can say is thank you people! Thank you.

But now here is where it gets a bit messy. As P.H. Fat took to the stage and I dismounted the little DJ podium, I gulped my beer, missioned to the ends of life and back to put my bag in the car and refill my chalice with my desired drink. I came back to the floor a little more wobbly than I left. Pushed by the pulsating bass of the trio that always makes sure you get your healthy dose of vegetables and I continued down my path of over 18 indulgence.

By now I was drunk. Moved by the bass, the drums and a hook that turned the crowd into lions and rhinos. I moved further into the frenzy with some friends and lost myself in a euphoria that can only be felt at a festival. Pushed and swayed by a mass of people moving back and forth in-sync with one another, the swell of the nights progression accentuated by a Hyphen.

Here is where it gets a little messier, my mind blanks, and spits out images and sentences that don’t really connect with one another. I see a man with dreadlocks behind the decks, bobbing and bouncing, who then somehow teleports to the front left of the stage, riding on the speakers, shouting words that I can’t interpret, coupled on the right side by a shorter man doing the same, incandescently illuminated by SFR behind the decks. The crowd beats and bobs, shimmers, shines and shouts to the rhythm.

Enough? No. It’s not yet time. I motion with the people around me to the techno floor. We find ourselves seated. Drugged. Listless. The music cuts… it’s time to return ‘home’.

Day 2. Awake. 7:30 am.

Roused by the whispers that emanate from outside my tent I am awakened by a group of people slowly gathering to recant memories, or lack thereof, of the night before. The camp becomes a meeting place and I find no need to leave, further enticed by breakfast beer, car music (because the stage only opened at 2pm) and a few other things I remained in camp ‘home’ for another few hours before moving towards the potential energy of electronic music.

I must state at this point that I love electronic music. I am not a band man and have never purported to be one. And therefore the closest I got to the band floor was once when looking for a place to buy beer and twice on Sunday to the sounds of Teba ‘Eating hand grenades’. I am upset that I missed a few of these bands that I would have really loved to see, but I did miss them, overpowered by the lure of computer music. So if you are expecting any words about the band stage… I’m sorry you might have to check somewhere else…

Spekta kicked the day off. Like a boot in my back I was catapulted into the new world of bleeps and buzzes. It was great. Sun, friends, booze and an unquestioned ease of mind, I was let loose into a world of my choice and no-one could judge me. I was forced to rise from my seat that I had ‘moulded’ out of raw earth and my excitement just grew as the names of the acts to come rolled down the VJ screen.

Three people approached the stage: 2 Men and 1 lady. I recognized these 3. AAAhhh it was Mix n Blend, time to head to barricade that separates the dancefloor from the vessel used to spin it: the front of the stage. Kevin, Jon and EJ dropped it hard. Their usual mixed up, mashed up flow of genre spinning tracks supplied and created by themselves and countless others around the world. Jon smiles his idiosyncratic smile, and points to the crowd… game on! Suddenly some row between the bouncers and barricade pushers erupts, I care not, ‘I hope they deal with this’, I think to myself. I must say somewhere between Friday and Saturday the ‘bouncers’ became a law unto themselves. One tried to stick his tongue in my girlfriend’s mouth and on many an occasion I saw them enacting some ego-filled desire to appropriate their status as the muscle between the Syner and gy. But now I could not care, the music was too good!

Mix n Blend ended. I needed rest. We trudged ourselves to the lake. Refreshing water replaced shoes and my body found comfort on a rock. People seemed happy, playing games in the little stream, relaxing. The vibe was great. What a great day it has been.

Returning to ‘home’ I heard Anthea reap the benefits of Techno outdoors, too sick, just what ‘home’ needed. We drank, we spoke, we chilled. Synergy had turned into something really, really fun.

Darkness came and it was time to go back to the Cirque De Crazy. Bruce Willis vs. Kennedy were bumping it. I was jumping, so were my friends. It was incredible. All I could see were people smiling and moving, thousands of them. The visuals on the massive screen behind the DJ booth unlocked my brain and in a weird form of synesthesia music now had a taste, smell and touch!

Now at some point at these events you lose track of time and you really don’t know how things fitted the way they did in your head, but you know that these things happened, or at least you are pretty sure that they did. It’s like a camera going off in your brain and for a brief second you are blinded by lights but the image slowly conjures its way out of your cerebrum and into focus: this was that time for me. One second I was watching Kennedy vs Bruce Willis?? And lapping up ever second, the next Haezer was on the front of the stage and people were offering themselves as sacrificial lambs to South Africa’s electronic demi-god. Flash-forward again and I am back ‘home’, Tequila bottle in hand and perched in the boot of the car, fuzzy faces in front of me. It’s time to go back again, jesus! *Flash*. Now I am face up in a tent looking at the stars listening to the woos and weeps of a crowd reciting Goldfish like a meeting of a photographic memory collective. *Flash* Mike Z from P.H. Fat packs up his tent, it’s 4 a.m: ‘What the hell are you doing? Do you know what time it is? Just stay and leave when the sun comes up!?’, I say, ‘When you gotta go you gotta go!’ he replies as him and his girlfriend Dunte pack up shop.*Flash* a person falls on my tent.*Flash* Drum and Bass punches its way out of a car next to the tent.. will this night ever end?… *sleep*.

The next morning I woke up in comfortable silence. It was the perfect weather, I thought, as I disembarked from my polyester shell. Sunday was a day of queuing: Queuing for a breakfast burger from Spur, queuing for a pizza from Al’s. There was no water ANYWHERE and the electronic stage was being disassembled. I felt like they were telling us something: It’s time to go home. We moseyed on down to the main stage and watched some of Teba do his thing with his Ragga style, backed by his entire band of awesome and then decided it was home time.

Keys.  Check. Phone.  Check. Wallet. Check. It’s home time, but just before I arrive in CT I want to tell Wimpy how much I love them.

*** A BIG shout out goes to all involved. Lumo Sumo you are amazing. Graham K, thank you!! Josiah B, Steez, P.H. Poes, Mike H, Ty, Adam L xoxo. Next year it’s on!

***Pictures from the event to follow shortly on Dont Party