Bloc Party was here. This concert has been called different things in its wake:
I’ll explain why.
Ash, Yetu and myself, DJ, made our way to Bloc Party in the greatest of all fashions, the Hotbox Express. Upon arrival ‘In The City’, injected by liquid confidence, we explored the scene and I immediately became aware that we might have stepped into a mostly “No-fan Party”.
“Ah yes, indie music. I’ve listened to a lot of the ‘Clacksons’ and ‘Two Door Movie Club’ in my day. I really am the biggest ‘Block Party’ fan.” This statement is a combination of the tweets I read during the night about the Bloc Party concert. They left me bemused.
I was mystified. Had we made a wrong turn and landed up at H2O? These thoughts were brought on by a largely jock audience and the fights that sprang up at random. Yetu was standing right in front of a girl fight and we all got worried when one of the girls shouted, “I’m from Edenvale with roots in Soweto! If I take off my pumps you’re going to die a slow death!” In an attempt to still have a good time, we headed to the bar. This was a bad idea because of the 10 person queues on all sides. We actually sobered up while waiting and became best of friends with the people in the line while we missed the acts.
Bloc Party was finally on after Tumi & Yesterday’s Pupil and Die Antwoord. After the first few songs, I began to question what might have happened millions of years ago, right in the spot that I was standing and observing Bloc Party from. I thought way back and realized that cavemen were probably jumping about in attempts to find a wife, just as the guys around me started to do. Is Bloc Party really music to mosh to? Go watch Pestroy.
Once again, in attempt to enjoy myself after I had to punch out the mosh pit around me I headed to the bar with some friends. I was angry and as I waited for my drink I noticed a grown man prancing about behind me. I immediately admired him for having a good time. A couple seconds later, I was called over by the security guards. Apparently, the man had been searching my rucksack. I began to “hope for a miracle”, fortunately nothing had been taken. In this situation, I feel that Kelechukwu “Kele” Rowland Okereke would say, “Popo don’t f*ck around,” as he did in Kettling.
Despite all of the happenings, this was Bloc Party. They blew my mind and I still found myself enjoying some of my favourite songs. God bless Bloc Party. We will always be here for them. Good day folks. I said, good day!