The Great Escape: Part One

The Alternative Escape - Wednesday 15 May

There's additional, even lesser-known bands scheduled in to showcase their skills in the smaller venues throughout Brighton as a complement to The Great Escape and it's fittingly called The Alternative Escape. So we rock on down a day early to check it out. Prince Albert is our venue of choice and it's pleasing to see Cornish pasties being handed out in honour of Goodbye Joel, a band from Cornwall. Headliners PJP Band are impressive, even though a neighbour in the crowd sporting a delegate lanyard (and therefore believing himself more entitled to spread his uninformed opinions throughout the festival) announces its "lollipop rock". More like a cross between Fine Young Cannibals and The Doors, while this blend may sound horrific on paper (or screen), it actually works for them. Just when you think you have them all neatly categorised, there's some dramatic spoken word segments thrown in and we hope to see them again some time. Good to see some stickers advertising the Cornish pie shop have been plastered up in the ladies toilets also. 

The Great Escape - Thursday 16 May

Aside from being equal in scale to medium-sized dogs, Brighton seagulls feel the need to call out to each other all night long. This compromises tourist zeds big time. A plastic poncho is packed to ward off inclement weather conditions and then a stroll along the pebbly beach serves as a reminder we're not on home turf. En route, we spy many Brits spoiling the idyllic Brighton Dome gardens as they attempt to "catch the sun", exposing lily-white, unexercised bods. 

As first beers are drained and tickets exchanged for wristbands, a sizeable crowd gathers to take in Houndmouth on The Festival Hub stage, which is shaped like a silver bullet. It's a long way from Kentucky, but their synth-driven Americana connects as demonstrated when a young couple sidles up to this scribe with an enquiry: "Do you know who they are? They're really good." (Oh, they're on Rough Trade.) Matt Myers, the cheeky moustachioed singer who sports an Rdio t-shirt, complains he has cottonmouth before joking that it's "from all the antibiotics and steroids" he takes in an attempt to "bulk up" (he's skeletal). Houndmouth boast three alternating vocalists and all these guys (and gal - sorry, Katie Toupin) need is a booster shot of confidence. Interestingly, Wolfmother - not just a single, an entire album - acts as set-up music on this stage. See, the rest of the world retain some love! 

This 14-degree day must qualify as a British heatwave since we witness deodorant applied on the fly several times throughout the day. Eat More Cake from the UK piff CDs around the joint while trying to coax people on their feet to "get loose". They manage to lure one munted geezer to his feet, but there's also a casualty lying prone and taking a kip so that's kind of an offset, right? One band member shamelessly  indulges in double branding, with his outfit's moniker emblazoned across both t-shirt and laptop. "Where's the cake? I want some cake," heckles a French-sounding garçon. Eat More Cake close with a pleasing cover of Stardust's 'Music Sounds Better With You', which summons the ghosts of Ibiza seasons past. Fact: people other than the homeless drink Red Stripe beer in maxi cans in this country.

Early Thursday The Great Escape highlight: We Were Evergreen.

Despite previous UK band Eat More Cake's valiant attempts to get us up and dancing on this same Festival Hub stage, it's French trio We Were Evergreen's 4pm set that does the trick. Frontman Michael Liot is adorable in a Jens Lekman kinda way, mainly strapping on a banjo, and when he picks up a trumpet to close out a track, we are totally sold. Fabienne Débarre uses her mallets to produce some next level shit on the glok. Their 'Baby Blue' single, which features the pensive lyrics, "Nobody knows my name... Why don't you ask my name," should've put them on the worldwide map, but brand new cut 'Quicksand' adds so much more depth. A groan of disappointment goes up when the band announces this will be their last song. There's a false start, but we're already won over. 

It's down to the beach, out of the sun's rays and inside the dingy recesses of Digital we go, almost missing a few stairs on the way down due to the lack of light/fluoro tape on edges. Perusing attendees inside this venue proves there are grey-haired, musical chin strokers in all nooks of The Great Escape. There's a definite spontaneous, improvisational quality to the instrumental nature of what Eaux bring, meshed with beautiful vocalist Sian Ahern's almost-operatic timbre. The Hackney trio take themselves pretty seriously and show obvious distaste when a cascade of bottles is emptied into a bin behind the bar during a quiet moment. They take  way too long to get going as well and when a punter yells out, "Come on!" 15 minutes in, he shouts for us all. Not so much music to dance, but rather to mong out, to. 

Heading across to Audio on Marine Parade, a few bindis are spotted. When the hell did they become hip again? This venue is running way behind schedule and the tail end of Only Real's set suggests they are New Order wannabes. Next up, Syron hits the stage accompanied by a gum chewing beat mistress whose mixes are as clunky as your sink's garbage disposal. The 19-year-old singer-songwriter from Souf [sic] London has a hit that goes, "When I'm with you/It's all about that". "That" meaning what exactly? What Meatloaf was on about. It's all very '90s, but this younger crowd are probably unable to reference that. Syron's vocals are strong and her songs, hook-laden. So she'll do well. Not sure why they need to mention she has short hair in the two-sentence Festival Programme bio, though.

A roadie in Audio has an interesting take on the old 'check-one-two': "Put your can down, baby, and gets your titties out." Leave it to the talent would ya, mate? And speaking of: it's all about Scru(pronounced scroo)fizzer. He's introduced by Radio One (and his own) DJ, Cameo, and positively sizzles. Recently touring with Kendrick Lamar, you ain't never heard a rapper spit rhymes at this pace. It's his trademark "fizzy flow", which is later broken down into three phases, and he fires those words out like Pop Rocks. 'Fizzer's offsider Saskilla is scolded when he takes too long a turn freestyling. The decision to include a version of Oasis' 'Wonderwall', complete with Cameo strumming acoustic guitar, is a downright stinker. The venue becomes a 'Rap Rave' and if you miss grime Dizzee, you're gonna froth over Scrufizzer. Does that new single utilise a sample of that famous 'Under The Bridge' riff. Here's hoping Scrufizzer attends to his grime roots for some time yet 'cause we've only just met. 

While travelling overseas, it's always more feasible to have a celebrity sighting - kind of like at airports. Was that Niall Horan from 1D appreciating Everything Everything in the Brighton Dome? It's also fun watching underagers (children under 14 must be accompanied by an adult) having their first unco pogo dance while trying to lose the chaperones.