Saturday 8 July 2017

SOUND SYSTEM PRESSURE!!!

We take a peep inside the napper of Tameside Jimmy as he recants a recent trip to a festival in Wales... Sorry about the bad language but Jimmy insisted there was no fukkin edit. HTx


Thursday 8th June 9.35am. Hyde, Cheshire. I wakes up to a text from Dane Bank Derek (DBD) – he's bangin on about takin' the Flopp-E Posse down to this festival in Angelsey and how he's got this mad idea to bumrush the event the nutter. Fukkin buzzin' i thinks... So I bells DBD to see what the crack is and he tells me to grab my biggest bangers and meet him and DJ Dogwalker at Hyde Central at 11am. I rocks up to the station at 10.55 and there's Dogwalker sporting a massive zoot the size of a baseball bat. We chong the zoot and wait for Derek to appear. He eventually rolls up in some jazzy SUV that looks like a tank that he's obviously nicked... some shit never changes i thought but buzzin cause the train would have fukkin took time. Derek's off his chops on Hairy Kryptonite TM - I can tell cause he's rockin a cheesy grin the size of Audenshaw reservoir and he hum dings of the stuff. Anyway I blag a chunk off him for the journey, we pile in the motor and razz it round the M60 toward the A55 with tunes on full blast. Dogwalker's bangin' on about how having a tory government is mint for ravers cause there's not enough police to shut stuff down and we can sell as much shit as we want dead brazenly as well. He's got a point... I remind Dogwalker that we ain't going to an illegal rave... that's next wknd init (0: - and i bang one of me mix cds in the stereo...

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We need to stop off for butties and a shit and that so we find an ASDA in Bangor for a pit stop and we meet some more heads in the car park... DJ Steve, The Chugganaut, Craigy and Tommy are sat chillin' in a clapped out ford montego listening to some heavy jungle. We have a quick catch up chin wag, Chuggs breaks out some hi-quality hoofs and we dive back in the motors and convoy it up to wards Holyhead rapid. DBD hands me his smart phone with the lineup for the festival on it... looks like a load of old shite to me. Load of shit i've never heard of. Deffo need to bumrush the gaff.

DBD's been bangin' on about knowing the promoters on the way but it came as no surprise when we get near to the site that we ain't got g-list or tickets or owt and we're all gonna have to jib the fence. We ditch the motors in a nearby 2-bit village and head thru the woods to the perimeter with our gear. No security anywhere... probably too busy with sniffer dogs taxin 20 bags of weed offa foreign girls with dreads round at the main entrance. Anyone tries to sniff my gruds this wknd is getting strangled... man or hound. Anyway we jib the fence easy peasy and head towards where all the hipsters are setting up camp. We sling a couple tents up, have another couple of hoofs and go for a wander to see what the crack is. A few of the stages are already going playing easy listening or 'Tech-house' as it's commonly know. There's quite a bit of minge knocking about - this could actually be pretty good!

As we mooch around this fat lake in the middle of the forest I gets a tap on the shoulder... I turns round and it's only DJ Tax Haven our soundsystem guy from back in the day... not seen him for fukkin yonks. DBD starts telling him how we're gonna pick a stage and bumrush the fucker later on and lob whoevers playing right off. He starts going on about how he's running the rig on a stage the friday, saturday and sunday for some limp dick crew from Manny and according to him they aint got anything on there tonight (thursday init) – pussies. Tax Haven leads a stroll down to this secluded bit in the woods and there's an abandoned stage area with a full rig in situ... DBD declares that we're gonna fuckin take this shit over tonight... only problem is theres no decks or owt and no fuckin powerrr. We sit down for a sec and i starts passing the Hoofs about... gets us in the mood for some A-Team shit. DBD hasn't had a boing since 2005 (five past eight last night) so he's fucking flying after a couple and chewing Tax Haven's ear off about breaking into the techies yard n robbing a generator. Before I know it me, Tax Haven, Derek and Craigy are off in the direction of the back stage crew zones – there's a few security chumps guarding the ways in but we just pick the one who looks the dumbest and cruise right past. Tax Haven's got a wristband on so he flashes that. Anyone asks to see my wristband is getting cracked. Poor security sod will have been stood there for hours on minimum so probably doesn't give a fuck anyway. 5 minutes later and we're heading back to the stage with a generator, pure petrol, two decks, a mixer n a mic after bootin the door right offa this barn. I palm off two teddy bears on the security dude to cheer him up on the way out...



So we're well in business here – Tax Haven sets the gear up and manages to blag us a fuck load of booze from the hospitality bit – the organisers are all running around trying to arrange a helicopter for Move D, arguing with hipsters about not giving out the wi-fi password and trying to stop Levelz from abusing hotdogs n shit... well too busy to notice what the fuck we were up to. DBD is fucking flying off this Hoof - tells us he'll be back in a couple hours n vanishes – gives us a chance to go around n look at the fanny and chill for a bit. The day is still young in any case. 

Couple of clocks later and Derek re-appears with a dock-off box shouting 'FLOPP-E POSSE' at the top of his voice... He cracks open the box n starts dishin it's contents out to the crew - the mad 'ed's only gone n driven to Holyhead, found himself an internet computer cafe and designed us a load of flyers n posters for tonights rave. He's also slapped his phone number on em so peops can find out where the party is later (07736034722 - give it a ring! HTx) – full renegade vibes. I get blagged into sticking posters up in all the portabogs so i crack on with that on me tod whilst the others go dishing out flyers to fit birds. Good job it's the first day cause these shitters pong already... luckily i've got shit loads of boing so I hoof a key in every other cubicle on the way round. It takes me 2 and a half hours to get maximum coverage – during which time i managed to get through about 1.5 gees of hoof and crack out a couple of pretty euphoric danger wanks in the process. Perfect preparation for later on.

*** SUPER LIMITED DON'T KIP - SUPER LIMITED DON'T KIP - SUPER LIMITED DON'T KIP - SUPER LIMITED DON'T KIP ***

*** SUPER LIMITED DON'T KIP - SUPER LIMITED DON'T KIP - SUPER LIMITED DON'T KIP - SUPER LIMITED DON'T KIP ***

So it gets to about 9pm and we fire up the soundsystem and start bangin it out... word is getting round the site that some mad cunts from Tameside have taken over one of the stages and they've got loads of teddy bears to knock out... Derek's blower is lightin' up so he switches it to voicemail with some instructions on where to find us and what to do. The entrance way to the stage is gettin pretty boggy by now cause of some shit rain which meant that no golf buggy access which meant no posh twats or RA reviewers could get in. The stage is gettin rammed with ravers gettin flopp-e like back in the day. DBD is on the mic doin shout outs and givin people loads of shit... some festival big-wigs with passes hung round their necks roll up for about 30 seconds frantically checking a schedule sheet. I grabs it out of this birds hand and writes "FLOPP-E POSSE!" in big pen on it over the top of where it says "Thursday - staged closed" and they shit it and get off. They should have stayed cause it were going off by now!

Things got fuckin wild later on... shit is proper well hazy - must be them teddy bears. Started running low on hoof too which was keepin me tuned in. Can remember smashing out pure tunes and poppin a couple of sick bumrushes out along the way like I was back in '94 - including 'The Zenith' of all bumrushes according to Dogwalker - a double bumrush... Got fuckin bold n startin' MCin like a chief n all. Big up the Bredbury Crew init. DBD was razzin round with a robbed Sharpe viewcam and caught some shit on vid.


             

CLASSIC TRANCE-RAVE BUMRUSH TACKLE COURTESY OF PAUL VAN DYK

Didn't bother getting any kip, stayed up all night chattin do-do n rippin 'ipsters. In the morning we double checked DBD's smartphone to see if there was anything worth sticking about for for the rest of the wknd. There weren't so we set fire to the tents, sold the rest of the gear to chumps, fucked off back towards Tameside double quicktime and were back in time for a Kong's lunch. Inabit.

Tameside Jimmy x



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1 comment:

SOUND SYSTEM PRESSURE!!!

We take a peep inside the napper of Tameside Jimmy as he recants a recent trip to a festival in Wales... Sorry about the bad language but...