CAMDEN CRAWL: Day one - the journey
- Posted on April 20, 2007 10:34 AM
- 0 comments
Thursday 10.30am - Bus 98
By Katie Spain
And so it begins.
As I start my journey towards the not-so dark depths of Camden (the sun is shining its rays out today), I see the stirrings of excitement. Indie kids, rockers, oldies, youngsters and music's elite have dragged their sleepy butts out of bed early today. City workers have called in sick and I bet there's a few high-flying execs who have are giving the office the flick. They're all heading for the Northern Line... and it ain't Morden they've got their sights set on; it's Camden. Yes, home of London’s biggest and most eclectic new-music festival.
I've gone for the bus option today... not by choice, I had to make a mad dash from home, to work and back again. You see, they couldn't send out the last lot of tickets so we have to head to the Electric Ballroom's car park - armed with a print-out and a credit card. yep, you guessed it... I forgot the credit card bit.
All is well now though... I'm armed with a map, a rough game plan, the TimeOut Camden Issue (a bit of light reading for what I'm sure will be long line-up endurance marathons), water, lippy (who knows... a run in with a Rock god may await), food and booze dosh, a camera and a liver prepared for battle. I've also packed a realistic attitude; today is going to be long, hard and fast. I'm sure to be disappointed when I don't squeeze in to see the artists I want and I'll be jaw-droppingly surprised when I see someone new.
I know full well that I'll have some impossible decisions to make... Koko of the Jazz Cafe? Barfly of the Enterprise? Drink break or no drink break?
The Camden Crawlers are boarding the bus now... clad in striped tops, glitter pumps, piercings, tatts, shaggy hair, no hair - you name it. We're all squirming with anticipation - it's 11.30am and wristbands are available at noon. The hard-core and desperate have probably been there since the roosters came out to crow. I’m not sure there even are any roosters in London... most them are probably turning on the spit at 'Krispy Fried Chicken'. You get my drift.
As a Camden Crawl first-timer, I'm not sure what to expect. I've been told of mad-dash venue marathons, impromptu parties and new talent spread like a cloak across North London's sweat-soaked back. The most common description tends to be4 a unanimous "One giant piss up".
I've vowed not to drink 'til after six. Today's a work day... and my camera skills go from 'crap' to 'dire' in the space of one pint. Then again, Camden Crawl without booze would have to be like Woodstock in the 60s without the cheeky hallucinogenic. We'll see how the afternoon progresses.
For now, Chalk Farm is in sight. I've got to make it over Camden Lock and into the safe embrace of the ticket desk. Somehow I think it'll be more like a Rugby scrum than a welcoming hug. Thank gawd I sharpened my talons this morning.
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