Fun With Strangers and LSD Prophets: Jess Henson Reports from the Koppi

(75 reads) Let's go walkies!

They warned us that we'd freeze, but not that we'd boil! Oppi oh oh eight (workitout) was hot and cold and great and grimy and bold and beautiful.

It's impossible to find a definitive experience at a three-day festival, but besides a wicked line-up, it was the hairy, muddy, mad and magical people that entertained me most, giving me reason to be rude, indulgent, and proud, all at once! Fragmented, fascist and frightened we may be, but we all know how to have fun, and at Oppi, a lot of us
did it with strangers!

Blessed of fest:

Discovering Speakerbox dot co za, our better looking cousin in crime.
Check her out. she's hot.
Festival fashion: Stickered shirts. Cardboard hats. People in panties (yes, there were, where were YOU?) mofo tats (and fake ones). festival hair (organic). Contraption hats (whereupon a bottle of licquor is attached to the skull in order to maintain a constant feed into the
bloodstream via the mouth that would otherwise be saying rude things to the wrong people). Barefooters (I saw them. mad)
Festival diet. Extra chocolates from the vida guys.
Prophecies from LSD junkies (unasked for and incoherent, but
heartfelt, nonetheless)
Absurd, overheard conversations up and down the hill to the Gito Baloi bar (drunken, guy clutching friend, to random someone puking in the gutter that isn't there. 'hello Ladyguy.' Then to her man. 'hello Just Guy' etc)
real bottle Blonde moment at the foot of the koppie ' i'm not kidding, I've reached a new peak of plateau.' (flicks hair back triumphantly)
Lots of exercise up and down the hills. (what? You weren't grateful? You lazy, beer-swilling city slicker!)
The line–up: Represented, but next year we want The Sleepers, guys!
And more women on stage.


Kak you suck:

Militant bouncers at the Kreef hotel who hit innocent (lost) festivalgoers in the face as they politely tried to mix 'n blend their way back to Mordor. Not cool. The manager spurred them on (a lady. Appalling). What's that called again? oh, right. Highveld hospitality.
The heroes on quad bikes. Hardly a Mad Max mission to save the world if you're knocking inebriated innocents out left right and centre, now, is it?

Music

That's why I was there. There can be no best at a fest, but there can be favourites in every imaginable category. I've written enough reviews, so I'm just going to give you five.

Most surprising
Voodoo child

Most forgettable
I forgot

Most Musical Charisma
Dan Patlansky (except for his 'play-my-guitar-on-my head' trick. So Broadway)

Most repeatable
Foto Na Dans

Most Unofficial
That guy with the penny whistle wandering around the campsite. A regular pied piper without rats.

Most definitely going to come back again!

*pics: Ian Engelbrecht