But however many brain cells you managed to kill that weekend, there is still collective memory to refer to, it seems. Facebook is full of albums with titles like OpP1k0pP11!! or other variations on the theme. Seems as if I am going to have to throw my hat (or Canon, perhaps) into that ring. But don’t take the photo selection in a gallery as a final summation though. There were many gigs I caught just in passing, and still others that I was content to just sit and experience. Like Taxi Violence’s cracker of a show, or the beautiful hilltop sundowner with Selaelo… not to mention the show that got a lot of people talking, Bloodline Ltd and their brick-wall lead singer tearing up the Most Amazing Myn Stage (you promised me a shout out before I headed up the hill Trevor, you tattooed bastard!)
A while back, when working for the now defunct Blunt Magazine, I decided to stop writing about others if I could help it, and trust only in the photographs. Writer’s block became a thing of the past… but now that has changed. Lured into penning it for Speakerbox by old friends and too much Red Bull, I now find myself fumbling again for words to portray something better experienced than read. This was my 10th August Koppi in a row, and the place is like home to me… even though I took it easier than ever before, I’m still in “recovery”, that state of mind and body where people run into each other a week after the festival and ask, irony aside: “Are you back yet?”
Now, trying to distill the experience into words seems a fruitless task, but with my photographs as waypoints, perhaps I can give you my (lasting) impressions in something approaching note form. Rushed, fleeting, spontaneous and uncertain at times… but isn’t that what the best Koppi’s are, after all?
Firewood, everywhere in the camping area, with whole dead trees winding up Oppi-altar; Albert Frost officially opening it all (for me) and showing why he plays every Koppi; The legendary top bar (and the legendary top barflies, some of them in cow suits this year; aKing raising the roof in their march towards South African rock domination; Bingo and his angle-grinder as a counterpoint to the chilled Taxi Violence unplugged set (broadcast live to the campsite from Red Bull’s mobile radio station Stretch); Evan Milton and Jane Fwom’s Gene Kelly moment on a media lounge sofa; Bed On Bricks showing why they belong on a main stage, as performers of note; Yesterday’s Pupil wowing Pretoria’s faithful on the top stage at some ungodly hour, likewise DJ Sassquatch, also of Cap City; 340ml conducting dub sound-wave experiments (would that they weren’t running late as I missed most of their show); Van Coke Kartel’s blistering set, something Francois is surely regretting as he enters the studio to lay down vocals for the new album; Sipho “Hotstix” Mabuse in a legendary show, surprising perhaps even himself with how many know classics like Burnout and Shikisa; Tidal Waves terrifying everyone in the front row with what has to be the most horrific missed stage-dive ever… I’m still wincing, though Zakes got back on deck and rocked it steady like nothing happened; Nthabi showing that while the punk scene may like it’s token females, regardless of a lack of talent, the hip hop scene requires serious mic control as well as looks, both of which she has in abundance; kidofdoom having jaws hit the ground with their mammoth light show and trippy instrumentalism… bar… djs… bar… djs…
Have I covered it all? How would you know, if you weren’t there? And if you were, I’ll just say you were drunk. This is MY story, and I’m sticking to it.
* See Liam's exclusive pics here.