SFTOC - 2016: A Place Odyssey

Also Known As "Sounds From The Other City 2016"
Well, I did warn/caution/threaten you earlier, and here it is.  First, let us establish what the Hollywood scriptwriters would call a "mise en scene".  SFTOC - because I'm simply not going to write that out every time - is an annual music event that takes place in Salford - hence the "Other City" part of the title, as this definitely isn't Manchester.  A whole lot of bands and musicians and artists and comedians perform from early afternoon until the small hours of Monday morning, the prevailing atmosphere being one of folk enjoying their music.  No rowdiness here, folks, despite a lot of beer being consumed.  I shall return to this later.
     Anyway, the real problem at SFOTC is the sheer number of performances being put on, frequently at the same time.  Your humble scribe had heard of only two acts amongst the dozens and dozens present - Irma Vep and Ex-Easter Island Heads.
     Event Hurdle Number One is to negotiate your way around the set listing.  Art?

The complete listings - almost!

     Every line on there is an act, totalling probably well over one hundred of them, plus DJ's playing sets between acts and improvised stuff as well.  The key is that map lower left hand corner.  Art?  A close-up, please:

Music by Numbers?

     Now, I mentioned not knowing the acts present, and that's a bit disingenuous.  Grotbags is fronted by mate Ian, consumate muso, and I frantically perused the whole set list without finding him or them.
     "Oh well, nobody is starting before 3 o'clock!" I told myself, and went off to get a bit of lunch.  Art?

Last year this was standing room only

     Not altogether impressed with "Drum and Baste", who were only selling whole pizzas at £8 each, although I did get a chicken curry with naan.  Conrad could easily finish off a whole pizza himself but I doubt there are many other customers as greedy or eager as he, and given the low levels of traffic in the courtyard I rather suspect their profit margins were hit.
     Then - I turned over the set listing.  Ooops!

There's Grotbags, right there, 3 cm. above the "r" in "there

     Then it was a case of find Unit 2 - the noise helped - and I managed to catch the last 10 seconds of Grotbags at Venue 4 - 

That's Ian, tripping lightly between the balloons

     Oh what might have been.  "It'll all be on Youtube!" promised Ian.
     At this point your humble scribe took a look around the venue, which is a big industrial shed, prettified somewhat with balloons and tinsel.

Prettified

     Then, next act up, the "Hot Shorts" or "Hat Shirts" as the MC hilariously ad-libbed, and bless them, they took the joke and ran with it.  Art?

     "My Cat's Gonna Live Forever" they sang.  Not at that volume it's not!  Blended rock and roll noise, categorises Conrad.
     Then it was across the yard to Venue 5, which meant catching Oscar.  And here Conrad does his good deed for the day, as the barman at "Cloudwater Brewery" mistakenly gave him change for a £10.  "O no it was a fiver," I explained, to his express gratitude.  "Also, that <does strange arm gesture> was a comet," as I'd been trying to order this over Oscar's noise.  Art?

Oscar performing

    Note that the sound technician lower left has a sports channel running, keeping track of Manchester United versus Leicester City; gotta get yer priorities right guv?
     Well, Conrad categorises Oscar as quite light, bordering on poppy, but not bad for all that.  He is more concerned about this:

What on earth?

     Answers on a postcard, please, because I really have no idea, your honour.
     I then tried to find Venue 16, the Salford Zine Library, which did not exist where it ought to have done.  Clearly space-time pirates had whisked it off into a higher dimension until the heat-death of the Universe arrived.  That, or the map was wrong*.  Here is where I bumped into Liam from work, who was trying to find a particular venue, or act, possibly here in the Sham Bodie Bexley Square Tent.  
     Then it was off to Venue 6, a.k.a. St. Philip's Church, and a brave move for the clerical authorities, allowing squadrons of beer-bibbing punters inside -

     Actually not that big a risk, there were three Stewards sat on pews to my left who never moved for the whole performance.  SFTOC gig-goers are apparently a tolerant and respectful bunch.  The act you see there are She Drew The Gun, which is, you have to admit, a trifle ambiguous.  Drew with a chinagraph pencil or removed from holster?  As you can see, bathed in blue light, which is apt as I'd call them sombre. Brooding, even, and a worthy discovery.
     Outside and back round the corner to Sham Bodie and the Bexley Square Tent, where Jack Evans was doing a stand-up routine based around games, principally Cluedo.  Not bad, rather clever, even, yet swimming against the tide for those of us (i.e. me) who were expecting music.  Art?

Stand-up.  Jack and I are both doing it, but he has to work harder.

     By this time it is nearly 6 p.m. and your aged gig-goer heads back into Manchester, which means also hitting two more venues along the way, Venue 13:

The Salford Arms

     Not a pub I've ever been in before, but it's a Real Ale pub with a goodly listing of micro-brewery and foreign imports, worth a trip in future to sample the mead if not the music.  This was the very fag-end of what looked to be a DJ set and as there was a 20 minute wait for the next act or DJ, Conrad hied himself off to 
     Venue 12 - The Kings Arms.  Art?

Moody interior shot

     Not only had I missed a performance, the next one wasn't due for another 30 minutes.  I did, however, run into Liam again, and we indulged in mutual muso talk, he bewailing his lack of knowledge at the set list and bands playing.  Conrad remained discreetly silent about his utter ignorance of nearly everyone playing, before heading back home and being lucky with the buses.  Art?

The evidence

     Unlike Darling Daughter's Reading Festival wristbands, I have scissored this one off and am thus as cleanly as Conrad is ever likely to be.

Well, there you go again.  I thought this would be a picture-heavy post, and instead we're at over 1,000 words, which I think is a cue for me to -


*  I know which one I'd go for.