'under them skies of blue..'
Into the Great Wide Open
4-6 September 2009, Vlieland

A new and fresh festival in this day and age of crisis and aliens stealing all our culture, who'd have thought! Vlieland is an island off the northern coast of Holland and some people with great taste in music decided to organize a cute little meeting there. It sold out easily and four thousand lucky people witnessed the birth of Into the Great Wide Open: three days of Scandinavian and other fairytale tunes, for the whole family. Speakers semi-hidden amongst the trees, a kite in the sky, not a single trace of junkfood, improving weather conditions and, of course, the astonishing lineup caused this festival to be an utter succes. Five city inhabitants packed their bags and travelled by train and boat to this far end of the country. Sometimes it's just great to bathe in luxury, it's not hard to imagine some drowned campers being a little bit jealous of our rented apartment, including a hot tub. But then again, Into the Great Wide Open was way too relaxed to start picking on one another. A colorful, natural, perfect weekend to forget some daily nonsense and lifelong sorrow.

'I know I know I know you felt a change in my heart..'

Wished I could share The Veils with all you lovely people. But my memory card crashed, so most of this mindblowing gig will be kept inside the heart, for hardly anyone else to see. However, this band did the impossible: beat Emilíana as the most loved act of of the festival. Standing right in front of Sophia Burn's amazingly friendly smile and catchy bass play, we laughed and cried and danced and hugged, resulting in hot chocolate over corny philosophy about not at all minding the end of the world at that very moment. During the final songs refreshing light breezes of rain blew across the stage, as a goodbye to the impressive showers pestering the whole day. The only downside to a concert like this, is inevitably not being able to really fully value the next one in line. Múm absolutely should've gotten more attention, but The Veils simply claimed all available emotion and energy that night. Finally here's a modern band sounding like thirteen in a dozen that's not overrated at all, I was beginning to give up hope. Whistling the irresistible The Letter at each other, or in the shower, quickly became the reminder of choice. This was one of those concerts to cherish forever, a Whole Lotta Love.

'il n'y aura personne, et tu me berceras..'

Another notable victim of the notorious card crash was Lay Low, or Lovísa Elísabet Sigrúnardóttir, or Emilíana's lil sister if you wish. Her songs are all sad, all quiet, with humble jokes about the monotony inbetween. She'll probably never be famous, destined to play on small stages, preferably indoors. Of course, that's the way it should be. This girlie finds the greatness in her lack of greatness, she's hard to remember but impossible to forget. The same might be true for another hidden and technically lost gem of the festival: Françoiz Breut. This mademoiselle is going to win the untamed award for most increased play over the next months, for her chansons are suitable for daydreaming and nightswimming alike. Near the end of her concert I found myself magically transported right at her feet, a bit saddened to not be able to film the beautiful encore with favorite track Km 83. Also très élégantes were a cover of Keeper of the Flame, a creaking record player and the small amount of whispering by her drummer. Still un peu unsure how to pronounce her last name though.

'I'm not the complaint department..'

Let's be honest for a change: Emilíana Torrini was the main reason for going. Seeing her for the fifth time, at prime time and on the main stage, was quite strange. Can't remember hearing any screaming teenage girls at previous encounters, but I guess that's what happens when you start topping charts. However, of course I was more than happy to tell the blondie next to me, pressed against the fence, about my love for the Icelandic goddess. She didn't seem too impressed, so the focus went back to preparing for another enchanting performance. To Be Free and Tuna Fish were nice surprises in the setlist and closers Me and Armini and Gun resonated more powerfully than ever. Speaking of power: Lykke Li still knows how to put on a show, in fact, she seems to become more about the show than about music. Of course, it's her roots, it's her ability to make it rain with her pounding dance moves, so who can blame her. But like the last time I saw her, in the middle of the night at pop temple Paradiso in Amsterdam, soon some sort of disconnection kicks in. And then the lights turn on and she practically orders us all to dance for her. That's when my feet stop moving, so sorry swedie.

'she took my little hand and held on tight..'

Lesson number one for musicians: win over the crowd, before you start asking them to participate. And the winner is: Efterklang! The funny Danes entered the stage as relative unknowns, even though a couple of years ago a mesmerizing tune called Doppelgänger already was more than enough to want more. First song was good, second one was great and from then on they totally owned the audience. A couple of brand new tracks turned out to be instantly danceable and smiles grew bigger all over the place. Singer/percussionist/kabouter* Casper Clausen happily complimented the festival, where bikes outnumber drunks, obviously everyone agreed. Efterklang delivered a wonderful atmosphere, with musicians more than once changing instrument, and did so with a lot of humour and gratitude. Just an hour before Alela Diane had woken us up with the musical equivalent of green tea: very soothing in the morning. This Californian lady, together with her prototype musician dad and some other lovely people, sings songs to listen to and dedicated Oh! My Mama to the many present children. Without a doubt Alela will be a fantastic mother herself, teaching them kiddies that music is life.

*for insiders: een boomlange kabouter dus

'whoah, we're going to Ibiza..'

Haven't mentioned a lot of wonderful performances yet, like Dutchie 0ne Trick Pony (ooh-ah ooh-ah blabla Anne-Fleur), crowd favorites Lucky Fonz III and Kyteman's Hiphop Orchestra. Colorful The Poppies tried to keep a room full of kids on benches from falling asleep and Art Brut didn't even apologize to the parents for their punkrock. At a crappy pop bingo I almost won tickets for the next Emilíana concert, by answering questions on Madonna and Vengaboys (they both sang about an island) correctly. This sacrilege will be forgiven next year, if only they book Tom Petty and Stina Nordenstam.

visit http://www.youtube.com/user/Mennoniet for my own recordings!
 

(Menni, untamed.nl 2009)