DON T FEAR THE BLEEPER

We had debates, a bit of fisticuffs, some choice visitors, a few bummers and much bonding at the bar.
A few years ago, this simply couldn t have happened. Sure, there have always been a handful of choice DJs and a select band of dance auteurs. But we re officially in the throes of a boom now, and the emphasis is on individual expression, on creativity, on reaching out to the international scene.
Frankly, I was a bit worried at the outset, that the plot couldn t be sustained over so many days while other non-Belfest club nights were also firing away regardless. But there we were, staggering onto the next showcase, mid-way between exhaustion and euphoria, clocking the crowds, laughing at the stories from the previous night, amazed that things were so manifestly swell.
Highlights? We ll, I d have to mention the Basic set at the Empire Music Hall. You might know Eamonn and David through their connection with U2 s Kitchen label and their nights at the club of the same name. They ve always been a bit interesting, but Basic s sound has recently deepened and developed. With the benefit of a decent sound system, we could really appreciate the scheme, in particular a tune with the working title of Bleep , which combines the tuneful spark of early Depeche Mode (Vince Clarke, we salute you) and the thunderous potential of today s electronic kit. Interestingly, the duo actually write via e-mail, sending ideas to each other via their respective homes in Sligo and Belfast.
It was also cheering to see so many other contenders. There was Crashdaddy at Katy Daly s; one tall bloke on his own, smiling like crazy, loving the moment. And Johnny Moy rocked the Limelight next door, a sure way to finish a fierce Wednesday. On the same bill, Glen Brady had hooked himself up with the Third Eye Surfers, who put the Dub into rub-a-dub and rapped with tremendous zest, particularly Lady Lisa with her no-messin style.
A regular face at these events was Darren Smyth, a Belfast guy who s also been active in Edinburgh, London, Brighton and Leeds. In the past, he s established record labels and was a member of the band Comet Gain. In the old days he d probably be in exile, disdainful of the paranoid climate that has blighted Belfast on occasions. But now he s pleased to be back home, and has put together his own club, called Bend A Little at The Bodega, on Callendar Street, every Friday. He s playing old Stax tunes and punk stuff, mixing the possibilities, another benificiary of this impoved relationship between dance and rock and roll.
Respect then, to Digital Belfest organisers Shep and Shaun Arnold. Poor old Shep lost his voice on Wednesday. By Thursday, he was bed-ridden, leaving his pal to carry the weight for a bit on his own. But by the end of it all, they were on their uppers again, talking about the audacious manner of The Olympic Lifts their show at Thompson s had been another talking point, as well as being a chance to see Hedrock Valley Beats in action, to catch one of Chris Caul s last sets (he s off to pastures new) and to hear Damien Harris (aka Midfield General, Skint Records boss) playing some funky variant on Gwent Guthrie s Ain t Nothin Goin On But The Rent .
Damien took part in the dance debate at The Empire Music Hall, alongside Alex Patterson from The Orb and CJ Agnelli (minus his recording partner, Robbie Nelson). The fourth panellist was Alan Simms from Shine, who was nursing a wobbly tooth after a disgruntled punted biffed him during the Darren Emerson set on the Saturday.
Anyway, the debate was good value, as Harris talked about Fatboy Slim s legal adventures in the realms of sample clearance (apparently a few undisclosed snatches are still out there on the two albums) and the nightmare of Indian Ropeman paying #20,000 for a video that was rarely seen.
Alex Patterson described his time as an A&R man, when he claimed that the company office was staffed with people talking about TV programmes, football, anything but music. CJ Agnelli made the case for recording at home, figuring that Larne is fine for his purposes, and that he s best away from the music biz circuit, where he might piss too many people off.
As the debate came to a finish, the issue was how an artist from here could build up a reputation across the water. They were talking as if nobody had actually made the journey before, so I was glad when some punter yelled David Holmes just at the right moment.
Homer was booked for the closing Belfest slot, Sunday at The Limelight. Given that he s recently done retro-techno sets and full-on punk-seditionary bashes, nobody was sure what he plan for the evening was. There was even some speculation that members of Primal Scream would be
joining him.
So just to feed our expectations, we d spent
spare moments of the week listening to his masterful new album, Bow Down To The Exit Sign. And it was all there, from dirty, vintage funk, to street-spieling poets, from free jazz and Miles Davis to the sound of Bobby Gillespie raving across Sick City a tune that carried the full import of The Stooges until David then gave the proceeds to his mates Skylab, who made it even more fractured and weird. Then there are the collaborations with Jon Spencer, Martine (Tricky s former vocalist mate) and David Arnold. I don t think
any Irish artist will come near the artistry of the guy this
year.
So of course, David s DJ set at The Limelight alluded to all of the above, swishing through northern soul, hip hop, rare groove and sleazy punk. Every now and then, he d drop in one of his own new tracks, like Living Room or 69 Police and the effect was absolutely ace.
Once again, you were left with the feeling that Belfast can be a cool and stimulating joint, a town that s opening up and succumbing to the beat surrender, big style.