Put on your dancing shoes
Karen Zoid got us in our dancing shoes and up close to the stage early on, with the help of Wilfred Moordenaar (was that the sexy guy with the beanie?). Can't seem to find much Google love for ol' Wilfred. Hot Water, with help from Canadian sitar player Rex van De Spuy, got our dancing shoes a stomping even more. Lead Donovan Copley (brother of Sharlto Copley, I'll have you know - quite the talented family) is an incredibly passionate performer, impressively half stripping off at some stage and performing from a horizontal position.
It is at this point that things start to go a little fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure that we were interpretive dancing along to aKing and The Dirty Skirts, but somehow missed the Rudimentals. Where were we? I think we were looking for Steve, owner of the Woolies pink cowboy hat. We never found Steve and I still have his hat.
Collaboration was the name of the game at this year's UTC. Each main act was paired with a guest artist, allowing for some interesting interpretations of well-loved songs. By far the best fit for me was the union of Taxi Violence and Lonesome Dave Furguson (who seemed to be the popular choice for most bands). Dave's bluesy harmonica perfectly complementing those raspy, raunchy Taxi Violence vibes.
Though, perhaps, George form Taxi Violence should have been paired with Idol 6 winner Elvis Blue. Rumour has it the two seem to have a rather strong reaction to each other; George so much so that he pulled a Francois van Coke and Mr Blue narrowly avoided a half-digested tequila (I'm guessing, as no Jager was on sale) shower straight from the George's mouth/stomach. Ah, fun times, so bummed we missed this excitement.
Okay, so the music is cool and all, but what really makes me love UTC is being up-the-creek and being able to chill in a river for the best part of a day, lilo beneath and drink in hand. When this is combined with a happy-go-lucky band such as Captain Stu on the riverbank stage, a lilo heaven haven is created. Goddam it, ANC, I shall vote for you if your heaven looks like this.
We managed to make a fairly early start to our river times and were just in time to catch the wedding. Yes, a wedding, I tell you, go figure. I was a bit confused by who exactly was getting married - it seemed like a fair number of crazy people in drag, one of whom, not surprisingly, seemed to have trouble standing on the sloping sandy river bank. Six-inch stilettos will do that to you.
Saturday night featured an appearance from our favourite romantiese Afrikaanse superster rapper, Mnr Parow, who drew the crowds to the main stage with some slick slick liedjies. The enigmatic Boo! was followed by UTC darlings Bed on Bricks - love those boys. Taxi Violence, with help from Lonesome Dave Ferguson, effectively ended our night on dusty mosh pit high. Sticky with rum and caked in dirt, body thoroughly pounded and voice almost gone, it was time to call it a night. Shush your mouth, Tamara Dey, I'm trying to get some shut eye.
Shoo, and I thought Up The Creek was meant to be the chilled fest.
