On the eve of One Big Weekend's return to Derry-Londonderry, Si's Sights And Sounds looks back at its first visit... and provides some words of wisdom for up-and-coming journos
(Photo: Getty Images)
I still remember it vividly.
Around 3 am on Friday April 16, 2004, I stood huddled in a long queue featuring numerous sleepy twenty somethings and countless hyperactive teenagers. The queue had begun at the Guildhall Square and ended up on Waterloo Street. There was no big screen down in the square below, and no one thought about the multi-million pound foot and cycle bridge that would become a 21st century Derry-Londonderry landmark, or anything called Ebrington Square.
These were the days when merely having a colour screen on your "cell phone" (how ancient does that sound today?) and a broadband connection were enough to make you feel hip. Facebook, Twitter and YouTube had yet to appear, let alone take over our lives. Long before smart phones had become commonplace, long before Derry-Londonderry had even applied for the City Of Culture award, our little city had something to prove. We needed something to truly raise our profile as a cultural hub. And in the One Big Weekend experience of 2004, we found it.
Back then, ordering free tickets via the internet wasn't an option (it would be another two years before the online lottery system was brought in). No, if you wanted a free ticket for One Big Weekend that year, you had to queue outdoors. You had to wait until you arrived at a special ticket booth in the Guildhall Square. Once you reached your destination, either Colin Murray (in his pre-Match Of The Day 2 days) or Edith Bowman, if you were lucky, would give you your ticket; your free pass to a feast of musical fun in the Prehen Playing Fields.
Of course, with the event running over two days – one for dance, one for live artists and bands – there had to be two ticket collection times. The tickets me and my friends were looking for, the "artists and bands" tickets, weren't due to be distributed until 8 am that Friday morning; hence why so many were already out queuing for the 10,000 tickets at 3 am, if not earlier.
But no one cared how early in the morning it was. Hearts and minds seemed solely concentrated on the possibility of a free ticket for one of the biggest musical events in the BBC's calendar year. The tantalising sight and sound of either Murray or Bowman with a ticket in their hand, at the end of the queue, was motivation enough in itself.
There were slight fears of not getting a ticket; even in a city as small as Derry-Londonderry, you would be surprised at how quickly freebies are snapped up. But you didn't really have time to feel fearful, because everyone else in the queue made you feel so at ease. For students like me, it was a welcome break from the pressures of their forthcoming exams; a chance to enjoy the company of people who loved music as much as they did. Better still, the weather was dry. The time of day – or night, take your pick – was irrelevant when there was so much goodwill in the air.
At least until the ticket booth opened.
From then on, comfort turned to commotion. The rush to get through a securely-guarded barrier and onto the pathway leading to the booth almost felt like being a packed sardine. My feet were briefly hoisted off the ground as I became trapped in a tight, excitable huddle. To date, I like to think that the firmness of that small crowd of people – tight, but not suffocating – kept us safe, as did the watching security guards. Still, I was thankful to be let through the barrier sooner rather than later.
Before I knew it, me and several others were walking freely, safe in the knowledge that the tickets we craved would be waiting for us. While I can't quite remember picking up my ticket, I do remember the sound of Bowman’s speaking voice and the recorded sound of her fellow Scot Fran Healy. "Sing... sing... sing..." sang the loudspeakers near the Guildhall. Well, sing I did, very loudly. And I don't even like Travis. And I didn't want to leave, for the buzz in the air that morning was unrecyclable. I couldn't recall an event of this magnitude coming to Derry before; and I did wonder whether the Prehen Playing Fields would be big enough for it.
Fortunately, such fears were unfounded on the day itself, Sunday April 25. The long walk down Victoria Road didn't feel like a long walk at all. You were in the company of so many friendly people that it couldn't be anything else but enjoyable.
And this was before a multitude of musical memories were made inside a Tardis of a tent in a field by the River Foyle.
(Photo: BBC)
We sang and swayed to Keane's music when it was still a novelty to us and not processed piano pop. We jumped up and down to Alex Kapranos and company long before the thinness of their debut album became apparent. We marvelled at Kelis' stage presence. We rejoiced as Tim Wheeler, Mark Hamilton, Rick McMurray and Charlotte Hatherley nearly brought the house down. We were overjoyed at the sight of Avril Lavigne performing on stage in Derry-Londonderry.
For a dreamy teenager or twenty something student, this was near heaven.
But the more pessimistic thirty something sitting here today cannot help but recall AU Magazine's comments about the Sk8er Girl's performance:
"I always thought Avril Lavigne only existed in a marketing man's wet dream. But today, there she is on stage. Kinda. The pint-sized pop princess is having trouble filling the tent with her presence. And she doesn't seem to have the songs to compensate for this lack of impact. Tunes like Sk8er Boi... get lost in their own indifference... Only the crowd, who are almost determined to like Avril, stop this from being a complete run through the motions. But even they are beginning to see the cracks at the end. If you're going to go through the motions, do it in a recording studio rather than in front of thousands of people."
Nowadays, I have a sneaking feeling that had Lavigne performed her bubblegum pop in a similar manner in the United States, or near her home town, audiences would have been disappointed. It’s quite probable that her set at One Big Weekend set attained gravitas it didn’t deserve because we were all amazed that a city as small as Derry-Londonderry could attract such a high-profile name.
It's not just about Lavigne, of course. I disagreed with punters who called Pixie Lott's performance at last year's Peace One Day concert "mediocre". But was she really as vibrant and radiant as I had made her out to be, or was I just carried away in the atmosphere of a city made to feel important by a full house and the appearance of stars such as Jude Law?
I don't mean to demean 2004's event or Peace One Day. Nor do I mean to bring a dampener on the excitement surrounding 2013’s event. But, after years of reviewing, I have learnt that when surrounded by huge uplift and celebrity names, the fine line between critic and PR machine is a very easy one to cross.
Hence I will be viewing One Big Weekend 2013 through more cynical eyes. As appealing as waxing lyrical about the mere presence of Biffy Clyro, Ellie Goulding or Bruno Mars in Derry-Londonderry might be, it is the reviewer's job to keep their head screwed on and appraise them as performers. This, if anything, is a major step in the evolution of an arts critic.
(Photo: Getty Images)
Then again, if they really do put on a great show, I could be wrong...
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