On Sunday night, while a bunch of pointless jokers with no obvious leader are bricking it in case they get booed off, Goldie Lookin’ Chain are distracting a tiny bit of Yorkshire from those election results at the first ever Keighley Krawl.
Keighley, in case you don’t know it, is primarily (in)famous for two things:
1. Simon Beaufoy – wrote Full Monty and Slumdog Millionaire. Won an Oscar.
2. Nick Griffin – wrote some speeches there that got him arrested. No Oscar.
The Krawl’s schizophrenic line-up includes acts from Austria (Rentokill), San Franciso (Entartete Kunst) and the past (The Animals), as well as one Keighley should probably be famous for, folkstress Martha Tilston.
Anyway, enough about real music. We find headliners GLC on their bus, having a drink and a smoke between kickabouts outside, and ask them what they make of the place so far.
“Keighley’s lovely,” says Rhys, claiming it reminds him of Newport. “When we got to the venue they said there was a hotel round the corner we could go to, and it’s like the sort of place you’d take a prostitute to kill them, it’s amazing. I opened a drawer and there were loads of rizlas and spliff butts, it was like one of us had been there already, but we hadn’t.”
That explains why there are 347 people still sat in one bus. Luckily, it’s a pretty nice bus, and Rhys gives us a guided tour. “This is the drinks area,” he points at a pile of cans, bottles and crisps that possibly used to be a table, “this is where the cocaine gets taken.”
“This is the crack den,” says Graham The Bear, opening a Galaxy a bit further down the bus (as in confectionery, not star system). “I’ve just done crack and I’m hungry now. Crack makes you hungry for chocolate.”
Then they show us Eggsy asleep in a bunk, he’s not happy. And neither are we when we’re shown the loo. “This is a luxury toilet but nobody knows how to empty it so it’s full of piss. We’ve gotta go all the way back to Newport without having a piss.”
That’s going to be difficult, Rhys is very excited: “I’ve always wanted to do a gig in car park, and now, tonight, the dream has come true. It’s gonna be amazing. I’ve been looking forward to this now for about 20 minutes.
“Earlier on there was a metal band and they had about 15 sweaties with their tops off running round in circles. But there’s a band on in a pub across the road called the Cricketers, we opened the door and there’s about 500 people in there.”
We ask Rhys how the rest of the campaign trail has been going. “We’ve been on a world tour now for five years. We’ve done the Japan leg, done America, we did Germany, we’re now doing mainly the UK bit of the tour. I think there was talk of South America, but swine flu has knocked it out of the water for the Mexican leg.”
“We’ve still got Australia to come,” says Mystikal.
Much of this appears to be bollocks, but they’re convincing enough that I have to check afterwards.
At showtime, any concerns that they might not pull a crowd (if they have any concerns about that, which to be honest they don’t seem to) are forgotten as they play to a shitload of jumping, cheering people. For a phoney collective with dubious material and some well-written bollocks, they can certainly work a crowd. And they’re fairly convincing liars as well. I predict a future in politics.