Ah Pontins - a British institution. What could be better? The great British sun, the crystal clear ocean (lol), the fresh sea air, fish’n’chips and portly gentlemen in ill-fitting swim-trunks - surely Pontins has it all... except maybe Squarepusher, Model 500, Juan Atkins , Altern-8, Dopplereffekt, Phil Hartnoll, Modeselektor, Kid606, Dj Stingray, Krome & Time, Kode9, µ-Ziq, Aaron Spectre, Aba Shanti-I, Beardyman, Big Man , Bogdan Raczynski, Bong-Ra, Cassette Boy, Ceephax Acid Crew, Chas & Dave, Cylob, Dj Scotch Egg, Dmx Krew, Hyperdub Pressure , Indicator , Jackson And His Computer Band, Kelpe, Knifehandchop, Long Range, Luke Vibert, Mala (Digital Mystikz), Mat Carter, Mike Dred, Normski, Plaid, Ragga Twins, Remarc, Richard Devine , Saint Acid, Shitmat, Steve Strawberry, The Backbone Of Electronica-Acid , The Breakcore, The Doubtful Guest, The Flashbulb, The Panacea, Ultimate Mouth Wizard - 2006 & 2007 Uk Beatbox Champion , Venetian Snares, Vexkiddy and the Warp Records Djs (NOT Richard James) playing the most brutal and in-your-face gabbajungletechnocore while the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man (no wai) overlooks the whole shebang. Yes the week before last it was Bangface. Seun X grabbed his trunks, bucket, spade and earplugs and got down there quick-sharp and in Bristol fashion…

Indeed

Travelling to Pontins wasn’t as much of a chore as we thought it would be and within about an hour we were approaching Rye, Pontins and the seaside - except the seaside was a good hour walk away from Rye station. Enjoying being out of the city for a change we decided to walk it (the first in a series of bad ideas).

 

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Unfortunately what this meant is that we finally arrived too late to catch the 'opening ceremony'. We were informed later on that in fact everybody was late for the opening ceremony. It ended up taking place about four hours after the event started. Well, nobody ever said Bangface was supposed to make sense.

Before we knew it we were unpacked and chilling in our 50's style chalet, preparing for the night's onslaught. With Venetian Snares, Bogdan Raczynski and Ceephax all playing on the opening night we had no time for screwing around or doing any of that preperation stuff.

Aaron Spectre vs the hard crew...

 

We got to the floor in time to catch Aaron Spectre tearing up the main room. It was big, loud, screamy and hard enough for the hard crew. Aaron had the whole venue screaming for more bass, more beats and more volume. The room quickly became a literal sweatbox. It was hard to believe that only a few days before the same stage was manned by smiling bluecoats and family entertainers dressed as fluffy animals (furries!) in complete contrast to the assembled drug-addled ravers, 'dirty little rave girls' and dreadlocked techno-heads blasting everyone with weird-time-signature intensity.

Aaron funk brought the requires amount of dada hardcore pom poms to the proceedings...

 

Soon Aarons inimitable HC-gets-into-a-fight-with-jungle-before-gabba-gets involved-stomping-all-over-everyone styles made way for the even more abstract and meticulously arranged drum hits of Aaron Funk (Venetian Snares). The place got even more hectic and of course, even more boiling hot and sweaty and horrible. A little dupstep break in the second room and it was time to head back to the chalet for some recuperation time. NOT! Next thing we knew we were heading to the beach with The Badical, Scotch Egg, his best friend and drummer in his new band (you heard it here first), his wife, CLASH magazine and probably every breakcore artist Don’t Panic ever featured. We returned with the rising sun in the morning and realising Snares was in the chalet beneath ours, treated him to a four hour blast of his latest album before actually going to bed.

THIS ISN'T SPAAAAARTAAAAA

 

For day two it was decided things needed to get a little more ‘fear and loathing’. After coming across some magic dust (that can apparently knock out a whole horse) things took a turn for the weird-as-fuck. After spending what seemed like a millennia avoiding the hordes of bats that apparently only our assembled group could see, we managed to escape into the relative safety of the swimming area where after a brief altercation with a lizardman-cum-bouncer we witnessed what was probably the greatest ever idea in the history of rave culture. Sure, going to an underground car-park or whatever is cool and underground but what about hosting a rave in a swimming pool? And what about getting old-skool rave stalwart MC Sharkey on the mic! Lot’s of young people miles from home, all drunk and on various drugs, 100 meters of water and loads of extremely expensive electronic equipment within close proximity! What could possibly go wrong? Within minutes we were splashing around in the wet stuff and realizing how much being really, really drunk affects your strokes (badly).

Sorry guise', pools closed.

 

For Chas and Dave that night was probably the maddest gig they’ve ever played. Having forged a career as the ultimate boozer-band, playing to 5000 sweaty ravers must have been a refreshingly bizarre experience. With everyone in the venue screaming and throwing inflatables and glow-sticks everywhere the set went down like desert storm, with Chas, arms aloft thanking the crowd and remembering "how much he loved his old job". Forced to return to the stage for two encores the band finally left to a still rapturous applause. At this point Bangface was looking like the most ridiculous (ly fun) dance event of all time.

Loves his old job...

 

The End

Which is an accusation it is becoming increasingly difficult to level at Squarepusher. On vinyl his amen-mash-up, squiggly synth-core can sometimes border on the so-original-it’s-actually-unlistenable tip. A famous quote once defined Tom Jenkinson as a man whose work is "75% shit but the remaining 25% total, total genius". We were treated to that 25%. There were no frills or stage show just Tom Jenkinson, his bass guitar, a laptop and some SERIOUS freakin' skills. Flea from the Peppers was recently quoted as saying Squarepusher is one of the greatest bass players on the planet today and taking in the set it was hard to dispute this claim. Even the terminally fucked-in-the-head were sobering up enough to tune in and listen properly. Finishing up with Come on my Selector the crowd lost it, dancing like it was their last chance to do so... probably because it was. Squarepusher finished up, glowsticks flew through the air illuminating everything in their glowy neon glow and it was time for everyone to return to their chelets for a good night's sleep, or even more partying at one of the 200 after-parties everyone was throwing in their chalet (shhhh). Until next year!

Check www.bangface.com for up-to-the-minute the deets on the neo-rave revival...