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Articles, Essay and other Long-Form Writing

10 Years of DJ Terminates Here – The EOL-Era

My Djing didn’t begin under the Terminates Here name. I’d also managed a little bit under my former name ‘Jonny EOL’. All but one of these sets took place at Imperial College, where I studied (yes, really) for three years, though the Djing chances only came along towards the end of my time there.

It was only in my second year that we got our out rock’n’metal night ‘Whiplash’, and the Djing here was handled solely by our college radio DJ Steve (not a Steve any of you know now). No bad thing at the time – he really had a grip on the metal sound of the late 90s. Pity he didn’t care for Rammstein, but you can’t have everything.

But In His Voice I Heard Decay

But eventually a chance would come for the rest of us. Our Whiplash event chose to upgrade to a live band event called ‘sICk night in’, people were invited from other Uni Unions from around London, and there were DJ slots between each band to fill. My own patronage of events like Full Tilt and various shorter-lived nights had given me access to various industrial and darkwave themed tunes that no-one else had in the days when file-sharing was only just starting up. And hence a set was secured….but first a little practice.

We had secured the used of the Back Room in our college bar the night before the big event to get used to mixers, PA systems and CD-Js, and hence my first tentative sets were delivered – three tracks to get used to the buttons and faders. Then a couple of skater-types had their practice session, and decided “We don’t like what anyone else is playing, so we’ll shut ourselves in the booth and refuse to come out”.

Typical of the IC attitude as a whole, where the ‘I’m better than you’ mindset ruled with toxic prevalence. I hadn’t really gotten to grips with the kit by now, so eventually we coaxed them out and I played a couple more tunes, just so I could work out what a crossfader was for, and that was it. Off to Full Tilt. The place I discovered many of the things I was actually playing at the time.

On the night itself, I got my chance to DJ to a crowd for the first time. On a sprung wooden floor, with DJ kit set up on a trestle table (and no light source), the CD players were prone to skipping and one gave up entirely on my third song. So two attempts in and still no chance to work up some set time. But a first lesson in learning about navigating sub-standard equipment. Many more would follow.

I made it back to the Back Room a few months later – a digital hardcore/breakbeat DJ wanted an opening slot filling with a different (but distantly related) style and he brought me in. Oddly, this was my only experience of Djing off vinyl, ever – the format was seriously out-of-fashion at the time amongst all but scratch-style DJs, so I could pick it up cheaply on a student budget – there was no ‘state of the ark’ retro-chic motivation here. Still had a limited setlist and not much ‘feel’ for how tracks go together, but at least it was my first go at playing a set uninterrupted.

What Will Become? What Will We Be?

I left Imperial College a month later, but but I remained on-call for the next year or so as their industrial/darkwave DJ, having built my social life around the style since departure. I returned five times in total, slowly expanding my range. By my third attempt, I was including things like PAL and local bands Killing Miranda and MaxDmyz. Which turned out to be somewhat fortuitous, as MaxDmyz themselves were booked to play the next ‘live bands’ event, taking place a week from the end of the academic year and chance to let hair of various lengths down.

I was back as DJ, this time to play support slot to the headline band. Unfortunately, the event was running severely over time due to the fact we’d “borrowed” our live room from another student society and they were playing control freaks. Add this to strict curfew limits and we only to play a couple of songs each. Another sad but true lesson – Steer clear of running events where the venue staff show any kind of reluctance over having you there.

We both returned in November, the event was moved to the ground floor club room – an area over which the organisers had total control on the night. It took place during a difficult time in my life (out of work with few prospects despite my academic achievements) but it was a chance to catch up with old friends and even make some new ones. Including Pete Valente, MaxDmyz lead singer and only constant member. The first of many people I regard as allies to the Terminates Here cause, a full seven years before I began my mission in earnest.

After this, my social life moved more towards the London goth & related club scene. Most of the key DJ slots were filled by an established core of DJs, but I did manage to get my foot in the door of one of the many short-lived “Thursday nights at Gossips” events – Metal Box.

I Think We Made It Better

This was an era when our scene could still call upon students and other people not against clubbing on a work night, but by the time I made it, it was a dying trend. Within a few years, no-one was running scene-oriented club nights on anything other than a Friday or Saturday, and only Slimelight were able to do so on a weekly rather than monthly basis. I played a couple of 45 minute sets to a small assortment of scene faithful and random drunks, trying to work requests for ‘old-school Metallica’ and The Sex Pistols into what was supposed to be a goth/industrial set.

I might have actually got said bands into a set that otherwise comprises of Rammstein/Apop style material, but the writing was on the wall. The Metal Box night was gone within a few months, Gossips itself would be gone soon after, and I returned to focusing on my EOL-Audio website, reviews, band profiles and genre definitions all broadly related to “the scene”. I made tentative enquiries into Djing elsewhere, but most promoters pretended not to hear, or made loose agreements never followed up.

In many respect, I wasn’t ready. The scene was at its most political in the mid-00s, and I never had the skills nor contacts to manoeuvre my way through all that shit. Watching a member of venue staff playing a major scene club with a carrier bag full of CD-Rs, barely able to string together two tracks in the same style, was beyond the pale however. The individual was popular enough to avoid en masse criticism, which was a lesson that having friends in the right places was more important than any knowledge or ability, at least when getting started. As for EOL-Audio, it was going nowhere and I closed it early in 2007.

After a year-and-a-half essentially ‘out’ of the scene barring the occasional gig attendance, I began rebuilding my online profile in mid-2008 under the new title of ‘Terminates Here’. It was a term I’d originally developed an obsession with when I lived at the end of the Piccadilly line for a couple of years – that automated recording was the voice that welcomed me home each night. I used it as part of an April Fools joke, titled my new website under the name and originally was going to a form a band with said moniker. But when my first DJ chance in six years emerged, Terminates Here instead became my DJ name and now the main story begins – in 2008.

Intro / The EOL-Era / 2008 / 2009 / 2010 / 2011 / 2012 / 2013 / 2014 / 2015 / 2016 / 2017 / 2018 / The Last Word / The Facts / The Credits

10 Years of DJ Terminates Here – The Intro

I’ve been writing ever since I was literate. Even when I was a kid, my mum would spot me scribbling inside an exercise book and say “Are you writing your memoirs?”. At the time, I wasn’t, but now I am. It’s actually the second volume I’ve written. The first was “Too Loud In ‘Ere”, my memories of 20 years of watching live music. But that story was a man-in-the-crowd perspective. It wasn’t strictly ‘my’ story, rather my view of someone else’s story. My epic-length festival write-ups, available to Facebook friends only as Notes, said more of my personal experiences, but I was still writing as an audience member.

Still, that and a rather lengthy blog relating to my day job sparked something inside of me. Long-form writing was my thing after all, and in an era when most people have the attention span of a Tweet when browsing online, or constantly re-used the same passages of text via syndication, I though it was time to revive it as a regular activity. I began with my series of “Listener’s Guide”, a step-by-step walkthrough the careers of various bands that I felt worthy of more attention than the regular music biographers would give them. These will still be written as and when I get round to them

But I took a break from those when my 10th anniversary as a DJ approached. I’d briefly mentioned the idea of doing a DJ memoir after I released my live music piece, but didn’t really get down to it until recently. Was there a story to tell? It’s not like I’ve got Wikipedia notability criteria. But then I realised that it’s all about spinning a tale, not about the worldwide significance of events. Picking out the key moments, and explaining why they mattered. There are people who have questioned my motivation for Djing with no hope of financial gain – it’s time to answer those questions – and then some.

In writing this story, I have chosen not to personally identify anyone who has had a negative impact on this story. I hope it does not ruin the impact of the piece – I simply have no wish to raise old arguments once more. However, I doubt any of those people will even discover that this story even exists. This story is for those of you have been part of the journey, and for those of who followed said journey from afar. They are people who click ‘Like’ on my DJ activity on Facebook despite never having visited of my sets, either due to geographical separation or just due to being into different things these days.

Every set I’ve played is mentioned at least in passing, though obviously I’ve picked out keynote sets to describe in more detail. Some of the events I played were a story in their own right, but I’ve told as much of the tale as I believe is worth telling. There are aspects of mixing technicalities and PA setup that I’ve skipped as they won’t be of interest to anyone but other DJs and sound engineers, but I’ve covered included enough details to make it count where it matters. Every story has it’s friends and foes, and a malfunctioning soundsystem is as much a problem as DJ politics or non-existent crowds!

So, let’s get on with it then….first my EOL-Era.

Intro / The EOL-Era / 2008 / 2009 / 2010 / 2011 / 2012 / 2013 / 2014 / 2015 / 2016 / 2017 / 2018 / The Last Word / The Facts / The Credits

From Tufnell to Treffen – 10 Years of DJ Terminates Here

I celebrated 10 years of DJ Terminates Here a few weeks ago.  The actual event didn’t come together until late in the day, but one thing I have been working on for some time is a a complete start-to-end story of the adventure that took me this far.  And here is is – a long read, so it’s in PDF form.

From Tufnell to Treffen PDF

If you want to read this story in inline blog format, start here.

Nitzer Ebb – A Listeners Guide

The news that Nitzer Ebb were reforming as a live act was a cue for me to make them the subject of my fourth listeners guide, and my first to cover a British act. Indeed, they hail from Chelmsford, only a few miles from my own home territory on the Essex/East London borders. And a year working in their home city only proved the old adage that no prophet is hailed in their homeland. Not one of my colleagues had any idea who they were. OK, this may have been during EBM’s early 00s nadir, but I doubt any of them have become aware of these particular local legends since.

This wouldn’t be such disappointment if Nitzer Ebb’s influence had spread only to various German and Swedish copyists with the hermetically-sealed ‘industrial scene’. The existence of said bands is acknowledged about once a decade by the English-speaking electronic music press, who occasionally work out that EBM-and-techno-work-quite-well-together. But the Ebb’s influence has spread much further than that. I guess it’s down to me to tell the story. Again.

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Infest – A Personal Retrospective

This is an article I wrote on Facebook shortly after Infest 2018.  It’s been slight tweaked for website purposes, but is essentially a retrospective to mark the 20th anniversary of the event (even if I didn’t go to all of them).  It was updated in 2024 to account for more recent visits to the festival, including the venue change.

The Early 00s – Running on Empty

I first became aware of the event’s existence in 2000, but having just left uni and on a temp workers income, attendance was impossible. Similarly, in 2001 I’d hit the end of a short-term contract, not knowing where my next pay packet was coming from, so no chance there either. 2002, finally with a low-paid but secure post, and I was on my way. I’d already managed my first M’era Luna a few weeks prior, so this should have been a piece of cake in comparison, right?

Had to cut a few corners to get there though. I bought the festival ticket and train ticket for £40 all-in from someone who had to withdraw with a month to go. It was too late to get into the halls but I found a single room at the Westleigh for not-much-money – all the doubles had gone but in those days I travelled alone. Pity about the train – turned out the person I bought the ticket off was a smoker, so my seat reservation was in the smoking carriage. Yes, they still had those back then. And I never liked cigarette smoke, ever.

And the festival itself? Band-wise it was unusually familiar to me – I think Flag Promotions helped with the lineup as it featured bands like Mesh, Synthetic, Greenhaus and the like – all familiar to me from shows ‘down south’. Biggest discoveries? Rhythmic noise. I’d flirted with the style but now fully got into it. And elsewhere there was retro-synth act Welle:Erdball – incredibly, despite my since-regular patronage of scene festivals in Germany, this would be the one and only time I’d see them. Also, the aftershow DJing was ‘my kind of thing’, lasting to the end on all but one night.

Such a pity that the events wasn’t particularly social. I only knew a few groups of people back then, many people seems to have an agenda and quite a few individuals were quite spiky when spoken to. I felt like I was expected to read minds most of the time. And there was nothing much going on outside of the music. No-one I knew fancied going off-site to eat, even if catering ran seriously short of options towards the end. Generally, I felt  “B-Listed” the whole time. I did make some new friends along the way, but once I’d exhausted the markets (remember Grave News? Music Non-Stop?), I was staring into a pint glass between the bands (45 minute gaps then) more than I would have liked.

I still returned in 2003, again only knowing a few people there. Trains were afflicted by engineering works, so I took a coach, but I couldn’t find a way of booking a route that avoided Leeds – where ‘another’ festival takes place and swamps whatever public transportation one uses to get out of West Yorkshire. As for accommodation, In halls this time, though travelling solo meant I ended up in the company of people who, whilst pleasant enough, were there for totally different reasons – stallholders with no interest in the music and people there for the breakbeat/drum’n’noise bits of the lineup.

Indeed, it was safe to say that 2003’s event didn’t have the hit-rate of previous year in terms of my own tastes. VNV Nation should have been a safe headliner, but I’d seen their Futureperfect-era set enough times by then, and they didn’t even fill their allotted time. Still, people did seem friendlier this year, though this might have been down to personal change – I’d established the Autism-Spectrum thing in the intervening year and was starting to find my way socially. Back then I tried to hide it to the unknowing – now I tend to ‘ride the wave’. Incredible how many future friends were there but not-yet-met, but that was to come.

2005 and 2008 – Because I Needed That

I didn’t go in 2004, the lineup either ‘seen elsewhere in past year’ (Spetsnaz, Converter, A23, Suicide Commando) or not of interest at the time – in retrospect, a mistake. I later really got into Lights of Euphoria and it took a tram-dash at WGT 2015 to see them. Proyecto Mirage and Ah Cama-Sotz would also later be of interest, but as of yet – never bagged live.

But then my first truly great Infest – 2005. Sick of being a lone wanderer, I attached myself to a collective from Reading, meaning I finally had meaningful company in halls and a lift to Bradford, even if it did involve getting to Reading at 6:30am Friday. But there was something deeper at play. I was in the middle of a major rework of my EOL-Audio site (remember that?) and I was getting severely bogged down. I needed an escape, a release. And Infest was what I needed. I got my first taste of the legendary Bradford curry on the first night and from there I was set.

To this day, the lineup that year remains a blur. I know Covenant gave us advance hearing of ‘Ritual Noise’ and ’20Hz’ and Blutengel flopped having arrived three years after their period of popularity in the UK. But it was the first time Infest felt like an experience in it’s own right rather than three extended-length gigs with an attached market. I finally ‘got it’. Only downside was a couple of people I knew mysteriously held AAA passes despite not being performers or crew – friends in high places seemed to be enough. As one busting a gut on EOL-Audio, a service to the scene as it was, it felt like a slight at my efforts that who you knew counted more than what you did sometimes. Oh, and getting a lift back to Reading meant catching ‘that’ festival crowd again!

2006 was skipped – I went to several other events that year and the money wasn’t there. In terms of seeing the Infest lineup, I settled for FLA and Stromkern in London the day after and a Frozen Plasma/Reaper double bill at Slimelight later in the year.  2007 was skipped primarily for personal reasons – I’d quit EOL-Audio and retreated to the outer fringes of the scene by this point and didn’t feel that well disposed to a VNV/Apop dual headliner, nor scene events as a whole. The occasional gig, sure, but once WGT was done, no more festivals.

I was tempted back in 2008 by the booking of Front 242. Add a host of other personal favourites – Tyske Ludder, And One, Heimataerde and even Infest’s first ever Peter Spilles appearance (testing the water with Santa Hates You before committing the Pitches), and it was a must-attend once more. By now, I’d arranged a lift from my native East London – much easier! And once again, Infest’s component parts were great, but it amounted to more than the sum of those once it got under way.  And like 2005, it was a boost during a difficult time personally – the break-up the previous month was thankfully as undramatic as it could have been but it still left me in need of a lift.

It was indeed the end of an era. The last old-layout Infest, but for me, it was my last ‘offline’ Infest.  Not yet owning a smartphone, I was buying newspapers and tuning into FM radio to get various sports results during downtime.  It was also the last time I’d stay in halls (ended up in a ‘dead zone’ when I needed a party) and the last time I couldn’t find anyone to have a curry with – the hotel dwellers had a free-meal-deal and everyone else had already hit the booze by the time I was ready to eat. There was also a slightly sour note at the end – talk of it not being the expected sell-out and rumours the event wouldn’t take place in 2009 were starting to circulate. But between all this, the actual festival was fun, fun, fun, all the away from start to finish!

The rumours were true, though – the venue rebuild made it impossible to run the event the following year. I’ve always maintained that if a year off was necessary, 2009 was the right one for it to fall on. The recession had led to many people being short on money, there was a real drop-off in scene talent coming through and the weak pound (almost as bad as it is now) would have made hiring a lineup of European scene megastars prohibitively expensive (most scene bands charge in Euros). During the lay-off, I’d taken up DJing, but more on that later.

The Early 2010s – New Layout, New Bands, Old Habits

The festival was back in 2010, and during one of the high points of a highly eventful year for me personally. The appearance of the Jury’s Inn Hotel near the festival site provided a usefully-located accommodation. I’d recently secured a promotion at work so had more budget to work with, and whilst many remained loyal to halls, I preferred a bit more luxury. Hotel breakfast was still way overpriced, ended up eating stale croissants in my room. The threat of an EDL march kept most away from the city centre, so hunting for a fry-up didn’t seem wise.

The venue was only just ready in time – signposting the new route to the venue wasn’t fully in place and catering was an afterthought, two food vans providing the only solid sustenance (remember – city centre was full of nasty people). So most either ate at hotels or elected for a liquid diet for the duration. And despite all this, it was still a great festival musically, with Rotersand’s 90 minute epic on Saturday night reminding everyone how good they can be. Project Pitchfork finally made it too – I wasn’t the only one who’d waited AGES for this.

2011, and for the third time in four Infests, I was in a poor state. This time, the purchase and furnishing of a flat had taken almost everything out of me – I’d actually bought my Infest ticket not knowing if I could attend. I’d fought off a cold just in time to make it, but I was nowhere near my best. Decided to let go the whole time and fix my life on return.

And the plan worked brilliantly. Using vitamin pills to avoid having to worry about diet (also got a deal on hotel breakfast – bad for the body, good for the soul), plenty of bands of interest (possibly overdosing on harsh EBM but otherwise on the money), and that amazing final few hours on Sunday. A trip-out experience to on the last day, retreating to the then-new karaoke in the Escape bar to do my best possible Sham 69 impersonation, then back to a ‘greatest hits’ VNV Nation set. I really needed that.

Happier times in 2012, my first Infest attended with a partner (adventures always mean more when they’re shared), even if I was partially booked in before we’d met! Back to travelling by train, my chosen method from here on. Still in the Jury’s Inn, but now with breakfast in the Titus Salt pub. Three old school EBM bands on the bill. Tenek and System:FX giving some real hope for UK bands. I had a double shot at the karaoke, too – still sticking to ‘London accent songs’, of course. So apart from some awkward building works on site and some unpredictable weather, this was was a thumbs-up-all-the-way Infest.

But we still didn’t go in 2013. By now, the spectre of Alt-Fest had appeared. The advance booking of both bands and tickets had let to much money and much talent being ‘tied up’ until August 2014. Infest still put together a line-up, but it lacked any real must-see content (Click Click the only regret at not seeing – and Da Octopusss were a definite reason to NOT go). We’d instead attend a couple of Belgian festivals, including BIMFest, then held in one room in an otherwise-deserted complex in the outskirts of Antwerp. Fantastic line-up, but soulless in terms of atmosphere. They’d later move somewhere with more character, but this was at least a reminder that Infest had a unique ‘flavour’ that transcended a simple list of bands.

What happened next could have been a terminal blow for the event and the UK scene. Infest 2014 was nearly a non-event, deciding to go ahead only due to the audiences appeals that they really wanted it to happen. Alt-Fest crashed and burned (not repeating that story, this isn’t about them). Infest, still limited in who they could book, then lost three bands from the original line-up, including the headliner (Project Pitchfork), replacing them with VNV Nation, now way past their best. The acrimony of Alt-Fest had largely subsided in conversation by the time Infest came around, but there was still an awkward feeling.

Me personally? I’d spend the recent years trying to establish DJ Terminates Here, though late 2013 and early 2014 proved to be difficult times on that front (few people wanted an electronic DJ that wouldn’t touch dubstep then). Encouraged by others, I thought an Infest set would be a perfect chance to show what I could do. But I was invisible. I tried to drum up some business at the festival itself but went largely unheard.

As for the bands, it was a case of many interesting projects, but no one moment of “WOW – THAT WAS AMAZING”.  Worse, later revelations revealed a couple of the acts who played turned out to be fronted by the kind people we’d rather not have involved with our scene, but we weren’t to know at the time. After several good-but-not-great shows, I remember when Ashbury Heights played – I was thinking “this is my last chance to get blown away”. In the event, the poor sound quality ruined their set and for the first time since 2003, I walked away from an Infest not feeling fully satisfied.

Also, I totally fucked up my voice trying to sing Leftfield/Lydon’s “Open Up” at the karaoke.

The Rest of the 2010s – Back on Track

I thought I’d have another shot at getting a DJ slot in 2015, deciding this time to wait until I’d established my own event so I’d be taken seriously. “Tragedy >For Us<” indeed worked, but too late to get on the bill here. Still, with Project Pitchfork making up for lost ground and plenty of interest further down, the lineup looked promising. Having established the two “not of interest” bands were on early Friday evening, we’d even avoided taking a day off work and came up Friday evening, determined to spend as little time in Bradford as possible. Sadly by now, everyone had discovered the useful location of Jury’s Inn and it sold out fast, so we had to stay at the Great Victoria, further away but full of old-world charm. And old-world plumbing.

For the first half of the weekend, I felt like I had ‘unfinished business’ from the previous year. Cocksure were good on day 1, but I really needed that one mega-show by any band. Fresh from my annual Bradford curry, we wandered in to see a previously unknown project “CHANT”. The furious drumming, the US-industrial rock styling, the turn of phrase – it all clicked perfectly. It was everything I’d been waiting for. Almost in tears at the end, like a weight had been lifted that I’d carried for a year – the rest of the weekend flew past. Mechanical Cabaret, BhamBhamHara, a couple more goes at the karaoke and the year-overdue Project Pitchfork finale.

And finally, in 2016, DJ Terminates Here was on the bill. Announced just before the late May Bank Holiday, it was proper celebration time. To the point where I threw caution to the wind and bought First Class train tickets! Fate played into my hands further – the one band on the bill I didn’t care for – Atari Teenage Riot – played Saturday night, at exactly the time I was meant to be getting ready to DJ anyway, so I had plausible deniability in paying them any attention at all! And the set itself, whilst limited by PA volume, was a tour de force through all my tracks of choice, with the “Nova Cokey” at the end sticking long in memory.

There was a celebratory air about the last day. The bands were good even when the descriptions said “not for me”, and I even got rid of my remaining 2014 ghosts by singing “Open Up” in the karaoke, and making a much better job of it. It reached a peak when Leæther Strip (who’d also waited some time to get a slot here) came on stage. Claus Larsen knows how to egg the crowd on, and the set itself was pure intensity from EBM’s Big Man. Mission complete.

Onto 2017. We’d now settled on the direct Grand Central train both ways – fast to Doncaster then SLOW through Yorkshire. Bradford unfortunately had a customer service bypass this year. The bar staff at the venue took ages to get up to speed, the hotel (the Not-Hilton this time) seemed more interested in an NA conference going on and couldn’t even set a breakfast table right, and even our old curry favourite The International had lost the plot, serving up all the curry and no cutlery! Being hassled in the street on the way to the venue didn’t help much either. In a wider sense, the sad loss of event compere Tails earlier in the year was a big hit to all involved. He was part of the distinctive atmosphere of the event, a part of Infest’s charm.

Luckily, the festival music was as good as ever – Riotmiloo, Empathy Test, Wulfband the best of the new names, Die Krupps finally appearing, the long awaited (for me) iVardensphere and a finale of Revolting Cocks. We’d already seen the show at WGT earlier in the year, but we were well up for a second helping. Proper industrial was back, and it sat just fine amongst the newer styles – some people were critical of this direction in subsequent discussions, suggesting technically-good but hitherto-unknown names for future headliners, but they missed the point. Got to sell tickets, and big names from the past draw the masses. Save “technically good” for the beard-stroking single-genre fests elsewhere.

2018 saw the event reach it’s 20th anniversary.  In not the best state of health and in quite a distant hotel, my energy levels weren’t exactly what they needed to be for a 4-day weekend, and more of my scarce energy supplies were worked off on day trips to nearby towns on the ‘extra Friday daytime’.  By the time of Cubanate’s show, I was a wreck that could barely walk.

A trip to the Bowling event the next day (arranged at the last moment) restored morale and also provided an energy boost, though, and by Saturday evening I was going crazy on the bouncy castle provided on site.  Oh, yes, and I also saw some bands.  Two amazing shows at each end of the weekend – Peter Hook on Thursday and Elegant Machinery on Sunday, plenty of other good performances and enough curry-break moments and so I still got my weekend to remember.

A month or so later and I finally nailed down the health problems that had interfered with my enjoyment.  As for Infest 2019 – we already knew Nitzer Ebb were headlining before the 2018 event had even ended, but when the rest of the line-up appeared, it went from being a ‘must go’ to a ‘couldn’t live with myself if missed it’.    And this time the festival not only delivered at every point, but I was in the perfect state to enjoy it.

The extra day was a one-off thing, but Flag Promotions stepped in and put on a Thursday night gig with Das Ich headlining – those two German devils casting the spell that lured us to Bradford a night early.  Light Asylum was the highlight of the first night of the event proper, a rare case of a black female artist appearing in a high-profile scene festival slot like this.  Saturday saw Witch of the Vale make their first major mark on the scene, whilst old favourites Dive and She Wants Revenge saw the day out in style.

And then the last day – it couldn’t stop delivering.   Whilst Ded.Pixel’s opening set was sadly a high point for a project that would collapse a few years later, the back end of the day delivered Future Lied To Us in all it’s wave-you-hand-in-the-air-glory, then OHM/electronic for a bit of classic Vancouver industrial.  Kaelan Mikla was the out-of-nowhere surprise from Iceland, and of course Nitzer Ebb saw things over the line with all the body beats you could want.  We didn’t stick around for the DJ/live hybrid ‘late shows’ and didn’t need to, but I gather the club-hours crowd really got into Zardonic.

More to the point, it was an Infest where everyone present seems to really ‘get’ what the event was about and got caught up in the delirious joy of the whole affair.   There was no “it was nice to see you but I didn’t care for the bands” this time, no real complaints about the billing barring a few needless purity tests.  For me, 2019 was a largely uneventful year barring a change of job.  Infest was the one over-riding memory.

The 2020s – Stay-In, Back-In and Out Again

For a brief moment in early 2020, it looked like the impossible would be possible – an Infest even better than 2019.  The initial announcements were a case of what-might-have-been – organisations continued briefly even once COVID took off, but soon realised it wasn’t going to happen, so we never got the billing with Project Pitchfork, Kite, ZyniC and several other acts I really wanted to see.  To make matters worse, 2020 was the last year before the end of the Brexit transitional arrangements – when everything reopened, booking EU bands was going to become harder.   Not impossible, mind.

We weren’t quite in full lockdown by the time the Infest weekend came around but gigs hadn’t found any method of legitimately occurring beyond some token acoustic strumming outdoors, permitted by the government as a mere box-tick in the live music category.   Face it – “Unplugged” and Infest’s musical remit don’t go together.  An online event with interviews and DJ sets was cobbled together for the weekend called Stay-Infest, but I have to confess I payed it and other similar events little attention, finding the forced-positivity vibe of Corona-compromise socials difficult to handle.   If I couldn’t enjoy it properly, I gave it a miss.

Infest 2021 occurred about a month after the COVID restrictions were dropped.   Too late to run a full event, but a limited-attendance one-day event was run and streamed to those who couldn’t make it – including us.  Might have been fully vaccinated, but a year and a half out of the loop alongside various mental health issues meant an event like this wasn’t an option to attend in person, preferring to wait until it could be enjoyed without limitations.  Still ended Saturday night dancing in front of the TV to Portion Control, which was the nearest we got to a live show that year and the “block” against streamed live events from the previous year was sort-of resolved.

Things were sort of back-to-normal in 2022.  Infest was back to it’s old format, with our two-year old rollover tickets still valid.  The line-up offered a couple of the acts from the original 2020 bill plus an interesting selection of new bookings and the play-it-safe selection of Suicide Commando as the Euro-scene ‘name’.   We should have got Rein as the ‘next big thing’ but post-Brexit visa issues got in the way with a few weeks to go and she couldn’t make it.  Empathy Test gamely stepped up as substitute, but a bit of the magic was gone.

My own encounter with COVID was early in August and whilst I was testing negative well before Infest, I hadn’t fully recovered energy-wise.   Thankfully, I’d previously agreed to swap my 2020 tickets for stallholder passes and sell off some unwanted CDs, which despite some cynical comments about the death of physical media, went surprisingly well – hard to believe two decades after first attending, I’d be the last CD seller remaining.  It also meant I got to spend most of the event sitting down, but still found time to see some bands, including first chances at seeing Klack, Caustic (Matt Fanale doing double-duty) and the oft-requested Glass Apple Bonzai.

Still got the impression something was wrong.  The following years dates weren’t announced at the end like they normally were and there was sometimes the feeling that the venue hadn’t staffed and organised it’s bar properly, as if their heart wasn’t in it.  It wasn’t – Bradford Uni had decided they’d no longer be hosting events like this, and Infest was in search of a new home.   Part of me wished they’d found a new city as I never got to like Bradford barring the festival and the curries, but it was revealed a few months later that they were indeed staying in the area.

But no more traipsing up the hill to the uni, no more hiding out at Goth Summer Camp.  It was time to take over the town centre – St. Georges Hall giving us a theatre-level venue in easy reach of several someway affordable hotels, the student halls having priced themselves at ‘go away’ rates.  The late announcement of the line-up unfortunately meant I’d be re-watching some of my Wave-Gotik-Treffen list (usually plan one around the other to avoid duplicates), but hey, they were good shows.  I’m not in the habit of watching the same bands multiple times in the same timespan but sometimes it’s the best option available.

With it came Beborn Beton, which for me was a 21-year gap since I’d seen them last.  Parade Ground finally made it to the UK, having been previously booked at the abortive Alt-Fest but nowhere since.  Thorofon hastily putting on a show to compensate for the flight-cancelled Xotox, and ZyniC getting a late boost to headline status.  Test Dept., a band I’d always though should play an Infest, served as headliner – though their show was one I was already familiar with, being the only band I’ve seen three times since lockdown ended!

At time of writing, Infest 2024’s line-up is still emerging, and they’re still finding new talent and unearthing bands that otherwise wouldn’t get to play the UK.  And Rein – this time…..keep an eye out for announcements.  I’ve still got a few unscratched itches in the live bands area, maybe they’re coming to Bradford this year.  Maybe you’ll be there too?

Covenant – A Listener’s Guide

My Djing is usually request friendly, with the exception of certain private bookings and some (but not all) genre-specific events. I thought I’d extend that concept to the Listeners Guides and write about a band that someone was interested in reading about. Mesh were a candidate, and may indeed follow soon if I can find some distinctive to say about their later albums. Coil was an interesting if totally-unworkable suggestion, but Covenant struck me as having the strongest case. One of the biggest names in a vast pantheon of Swedish electronic music, and, as we will see, joint innovator of a musical style that was equally loved, tolerated and reviled, but dominated scene dancefloors for many years.

A common source of confusion in the early days was the existence of a Norwegian band of the same name. Now known as ‘The Kovenant’ after various legal wrangles, the two bands are known in spoken parlance as “Covenant with a C” and “The Kovenant with a K”. So please understand that in this Definitive guide, there is no definitive ‘The’ in front of the band name. It’s just “Covenant”

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Front 242 – A Listeners Guide

On one hand, I’m pleased that the shot-callers in the club scene have finally worked out and acknowledged the significance Electronic Body Music (EBM) had on the development of various contemporary dance music genres. But simply name-checking an early 242 single doesn’t make you an expert in the style.

Conversely, I once had a conversation with a noted goth/industrial/whatever-we-call-it DJ who simply wasn’t aware of any notable 242 tracks pre-Headhunter. Which was better than some DJs, who thought that one song was the only thing by them worth playing. Or the fact that my corporate social networking profiles all feature a ‘242’ in the username and no-one’s spotted the relevance yet.

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Project Pitchfork – A Listeners Guide

My discovery of the whole goth/industrial/darkwave scene in the late 90s relied on a few clubs, some word of mouth and a still very patchy World Wide Web. One name that kept cropping up was Project Pitchfork, a band no-one could really describe in the few words, but the name itself intrigued me. Every successive track I heard piqued that curiosity further. I remained a fan even after they’d fallen out of favour with others. And their releases, the good and not-so-good, always got me thinking. In every possible sense, they’re the right candidate for my first ‘Listeners Guide’.

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Ten Albums – Ten Days

There was this recent trend on Facebook to post Ten Albums across Ten Days.  Some versions involved just posting the cover, others involved writing.  Me being me, I did the written version.  It’s been a while since I posted anything here, so I thought I’d take the content and turn it into an article here, editing only for the occasional typo and to reflect the changed medium.  Note that this isn’t strictly my ‘all time top 10 albums’, certainly not on a pure musical/production level.  It’s just the 10 albums about which I thought I could spin the best tale. Continue reading