Radio One’s Big Weekend Fringe Festival
(review n pix by neil crud)
You can stick ya Cheryl Coles, ya JLS karaokees and ya sminky pinkies right up your corporate whoring, citizen erasing, life numbing stinking arse. Chatting to Rhys Mwyn between songs in the bowels of this great little venue in Caernarfon, we were both exasperated that 500,000 (mainly North Walians – are there that many?) applied for tickets for Radio One’s Big Weekend, and yet only a tiny proportion of those people will ever experience real live music. That’s grass roots live music, the sense of being, of being part of a movement, of a culture, or even a gang! Their experience of the live show will be a sanitised affair, more than likely watching a bunch of pricks and slags miming some shite that Cowell’s team have wiped from their noses onto a manuscript and straight into their bank account. There again, a couple of years ago we were almost in danger of having our music taken from us as the mainstream almost become a stomping ground for angry young guitar bands. Thankfully their anger was shallow and empty and as soon as the cheque book wafted in front of them, any sense of misadventure was shut out of their new suburban dwelling.
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