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Festival Stories

Three in total.... intro

Kenn Taylor - Sigur Ros - Illustrated by Alice Fletcher

This page - Max Kusi-Obodum - Electric Lady - A piece inspired by Bestival

Helen Frosi - Grave Digging For The Queene - A piece about the October Plenty Festival.

 

 

 

Electric Lady - By Max Kusi-Obodum

The stage was set! The crowd, gathered like numerous beads of moisture on thousands of tents. A strange feeling observed the air, ominous yet exiting, perhaps something deeper was stirring.

A tremor flickered: a nervous oscillation, quietly creeping upon the listeners, who inched forward, craning to catch the first threads as they warbled on the summer air.

In the corner of my eye, I saw a figure advancing, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled, the moment was approaching!

Now the tones were clamouring, the tension at breaking point, stretched tightly like a guy rope made of a diamond cord, never fraying, but always on a gilted edge.

The figure was taking its female form, edging into the sunlight. As the music reached its crescendo, she unveiled her slender shoulders, and the DJ broke into a galloping rhythm.

An explosion, a mass of flailing arms and legs, stomping, skanking, raving! We came here to party! And a party it was!

 

 

I saw her wide eyes sparkling like a glitter ball, her smiling mouth, and her luscious chanting lips. My pupils dilated and my blood ran warm, then cold, then warm again, echoing, echoing… an adrenaline bassline, rumbling, rumbling…

She took my hand, not a word, not a sound, silently we began to dance.

An electric waltz, in an electric dream, almost in slow motion, amongst the stampede around us.

She slid her fingers towards my shoulders, as if stroking a revolving record on a mixing deck. She pulled me closer, grinning…

We locked thighs, a muscular motion, gyrating like a slowly circling gyroscope, pushing and thrusting, pushing and thrusting: Allegro then falsetto, then staccato. Allegro then falsetto, then staccato.

Then in a moment, our intentions met, we leaned forward. The tempo cooled, an offbeat, offering the ravers’ respite. Our lips touched, ever so slightly, the beat stopped, we held the moment, the build up began again. We touched again, closer now, trembling and wavering.

We locked lips, a muscular motion, tongues gyrating like a slowly circling gyroscope, pushing and thrusting, pushing and thrusting: Allegro then falsetto, then staccato. Allegro then falsetto, then staccato.

 

 

I felt entranced, mesmerised, ecstatic. Enzymes flowing, standing at the top of a peak or a pinnacle, glancing at the musical madness as it rises in peaks and troughs.

We danced on and on, her the crowd and I. Our feet stomped, our bodies glistened, we were one organism following the rhythm as it snaked its way from dusk till dawn. We were slave to the bassline on a pathway littered with strobe lights, glow sticks, crazy outfits and smoking cigarettes, a sizzling salsa in the black hole of a dance-floor. We rotated and gyrated in time and space. We rotated and gyrated in time and space.

Yet the pace began to slacken, the bars drew out. We danced on but our lips loosed, we retracted, and tailed off. As I looked around I saw etched on the army of drawn faces, the time had come, our time was nigh. The bassline still pummelled like a piston, yet the flesh is beginning to flay from its bones. The ravers’ stuck together, but a feeling of inevitable defeat took hold.

The girl was parting, she was melting, we were melting, and the crowd was melting around me. The girl was parting, she was melting, we were melting, and the crowd was melting around me.

We ground to a halt as the beat waved farewell, a sombre departure, an evaporating ether, whispering as vapours, like vampires at dawn…

 

 

 

 

Silence ensued:

“One more tune! One more tune! One more tune!” mumbled the crowd feebly.

…But it was too late. It was finished, and as I watch her slender figure wiggle away, I know that we are finished.

With a sigh I turned and traipsed back to awaiting society. Yet I had a smile on my face. Although it was over, I felt that in those moments we were a part of something beautiful and exciting, something with a deeper stirring. It was something that had its place in space and time, and that in itself my friends is what is electric.