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| Boomtown |
Boomtown, the festival
where all your unconscious phantasies come to life – It would truly be Freud’s
paradise. The festival is constructed like a town and organised around a
narrative in which different areas and districts contain theatrical characters and
stories, interwoven through performances over the course of the festival. How
to turn it into words? I’ll soon find out.
I arrived at boomtown in a
truly bamboozled state. I was dropped off on the wrong side of this massive
festival (home to over 35 stages) and due to my poor sense of direction and lacksidasical
attitude, I found myself somehow lost inside the festival walls, trying to
dodge the security guards and ironically break out of the
festival to get a wristband. What a pickle I was in. An hour after wandering
around aimlessly, I ended up in Whistlers Green – the lovely, healing side
of the festival situated amongst cornfields, how apt it was. I didn’t even
think such a section would even exist at a festival like
boomtown that was renowned for it’s grimy, grotty underground scene. The sky
was dark and time was ticking until the ticket office closed, so I unwillingly
declined an invitation to camp with the hippies for a night as I’d already
committed to the ASBO Disco crew. Our stage was in the centre of the Red Light
district, part of downtown with opposite vibes and at the opposite end of the
festival from Whistlers Green. I gave them a cuddle and was sent off with a
tribe of teenagers in high vis’ that lead me into more new territory. Strolling
along I finally felt like I’d hit a spot of luck as they happily took all my
bags off me and I followed behind them. But then we reached a gate and as they
handed me my bags I felt the burden return. A confused look washed over
everyone’s face and I realised they had no idea where they were going either.
Shit. It’d been 3 hours since I’d arrived now and I had 20 minutes to get my
wristband before the ticket office shut. With the last rush of adrenaline I ran through uptown mayfair, passed the half constructed sets, through
the psytrance forest and towards huge metal constructions with hundreds of
digital eyes, opening and closing at different times all around me. I made it 5
minutes before the booth closed, locked eyes with a steward that caved in and
gave me my golden ticket. IN. |
| The ASBO Crew |
Once I’d calmed down from
my manic state, found the site and the crew we went on a tour of the empty
grounds to get a feel for the land before the punters arrived…
As the sun rose into the
centre of the sky the next day, I stood in the centre of the bowl-shaped ground
where the original festival used to be held before it expanded to its
surrounding valleys. The punters were beginning to arrive now – streaming into
the camping grounds like ants on honey. The empty fields around me were soon a
colourful patchwork quilt of tents and the buzz was beginning to rise. I went
for a wander up the dreaded infinite staircase that connected downtown with
uptown. Just as I’d reached Whistlers Green, gasping for breath, I saw a
beautiful sight that made me stop. Positioned perfectly in-between 2 trees, a
couple lay in a four-poster bed, adorned with vines and flowers in the middle
of a miniature forest. A dining table with 12 chairs stood nearby, ready with a
china tea set for the forest fairies to dine… I was getting butterflies “JESS!”
I was shaken out of my reverie and turned around to face the sound and see J, a
festival friend that I’d been bumping into in various magical fields around the
country… the beauty of synchronicity that festivals create amazes me; that
magnetism that draws you to those you know despite however many thousands of
people and activities there are. |
| The ASBO Crew |
Muti was the king of the
underground in which we lived. A district laden with some serious characters,
the hardcore garage girls being one of my favourites as they skanked to DnB on
derelict boom-cars, wearing tight leather with half-shaved heads and tattoos
streaking their faces. By night it became a multi-dimensional dungeon rave with
characters in futuristic suits flipping on blades, hanging from ropes and
spinning in hoops; each group battling it out with synchronised dances to live
freestyles MC'd by the head of the boomtown police force. |
| Being nawwtyy |
Each crew had its own
afters when the music stopped at 4am. One evening, the ASBO afters merged in with
our neighbours - the itchy-red-rash girls. As we entered their boudoir, our mouths
dropped at the incredible sight of half naked women in tight corsets, passing
around trays with straws as the Madame sat on her throne, with a watchful eye.
I turned to chat to Muti’s second-hand man, the guard of the underworld who was
grinning with gold teeth and a mad look in his eyes that were coated with
thick, black coal. He was sniggering about what he was going to do to the
security guard that had been making pervy comments to us girls all day… they
were dark times and I loved them. Transgressing out of my
ideal light, hippie world and into the dirty grime of the underground scene
where you made all the rules.
 |
| ASBO Girls |
We performed every evening
from 11pm – 4am, skanking on stage to the fattest sound system of the festival,
banging out heavy dub and jungle with artists like Mungos HiFi, Manudigital,
ASBO and more (https://www.mixcloud.com/.../aries-b2b-fleck-b2b-asbo.../). The rest of the time, we’d ride the boomtown current, seeing
colours in the trees of the forests, falling into Fat Freddy’s drop or being
convinced into a ‘civilized’ family breakfast in boutique camping with C’s mum
(how we managed to pull that off in our states, I’ll never know). The westest
moment of the festival was definitely being pulled away from a skank into a
tiny glass room with a cushty movie set up. On the screen was octopus porn with
tentacles invading holes you’d never dream of… If you could take snippets of
nightmares and dreams, add a jungle soundtrack, inject it with gallons of fuel,
shake it up and turn it into a reality... you’d get boomtown.
 |
| ASBO DISCO |
I departed that festival
completely stripped of every ounce of energy, health and life. Keen to
get home and avoid waiting a few hours for a lift, I trekked up the dreaded staircase,
gasping for breath as my chest felt close to collapsing. And then it did and
the medical team was surrounding me with inhalers and water… defeated, I was
that girl. When I’d calmed down, I discovered the 6 hour wait for the shuttle
bus to leave the festival – massively regretting not taking up the offer for a
lift and thinking of a painful 6 hour wait at the end of a
festival?! What a joke. But amazingly, the sun shone the entire time and I
happened to be sat next to the one man with a working mini-rig banging out great tunes while Peterpandimensional dusted off his festival powder on my other side. During
that 6 hours, everyone jammed together and shared the last of their remnants, food and water. The
departure turned into a free party, just as boomtown had begun. I buzzed off
the communal interaction that had just formed as I sat on the train, closed my
eyes for a second and woke up hours later... in Wales. Luckily I wasn’t the only mug who'd missed their stop, so we spent the last of our pennies on a cross-country taxi journey back to
Bristol to finally get some sleep. Ka-BOOM - What an
ASBOlute.Trip!
The official Boomtown
After-video:
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