Blog
What We Did At Africa Oye
Written by Tati
This weekend, Rosie and I were sent up to Liverpool to spread the Abubilla word around at the Africa Oye festival. Originally intended to be a party of thousands of world music lovers spread across Sefton Park, the bad weather meant none of the stages could be set up, and the festival turned into an industrial estate block party on a Saturday night. Some of the original line up played on a stage set up inside; some stalls were set up around the area. Fortunately, the thousands of people predicted didn’t all turn up, or it would have been even harder to get to the bar.
Despite our abundant charms, press badges and matching Singing Wells themed outfits, Rosie and I were unable to swank our way backstage, mainly because due to the change of venue, there was no backstage. Instead, there was a teeny tiny green room area full of unsettled looking technicians. Technicians always seem to look unsettled. I suppose I would be too, if I was in charge of electricity. Sadly, due to the mystical disappearance of each act into the swarm of techies after they’d done their sets, we couldn’t get any interviews, and our few photos of the event are pretty blurry, although they invoke the vibey sense of happiness and chillaxed-ness radiating off the audience. We managed to wriggle our way to the front of the crowd to watch The Endless Journey, an internationally acclaimed nomadic group from Niger, before being squeezed back out of the venue. Fate was intervening, saying ‘stop your partying, you are here to spread the word about the Singing Wells. That is why you are both in matching outfits’. Fate was right.
We managed to flyer just about everyone who turned up. Our sweet combination of good manners and a righteous cause meant we weren’t subject to the merciless rejection of the average club promo girl who lurks outside tube stations waiting to accost partygoers. The only refusal to take a flyer we encountered was a child. If I were a child, I would have taken the flyer and done some origami with it. That child was clearly not as wasteful as I am; it is so important to teach children to care for the environment. Everyone seemed pretty interested in the Singing Wells project, probably because it is awesome, and what with the festival cancellation, the people who turned up to the block party would naturally have been the keenest of the African music fans anyway. I guess we had a pretty easy crowd. My favourite flyerees were two men who knew far more about African music than Rosie and I do, as we are new to the job, thus only just getting into this stuff. We hope this did not come across, as we are young professionals in the prime of life, and do not like to show weakness. Female praying mantises eat their male partners after copulation if they show weakness. I have seen videos of this; the males who flee immediately get to live, while the ones who hesitate are promptly ingested, as they are the closest high-protein meal that will keep the brand new baby praying mantis healthy. I have learnt many things from praying mantises, but this is probably the most important one.
Our raging charisma (and hormones?) garnered the attention of the Oye photographer, who spent a good twenty minutes with us, trying to film us explaining what the Singing Wells project is without stammering or looking directly into the camera. He also took some photos of us being charitable, which hopefully made us look hip and happening. All in all, considering the gargantuan change of plan due to the bad weather, the festival ended up being pretty fun anyway. We’re bummed out that we couldn’t actually interview anyone, but we did spread the word about the Singing Wells all over that place like a benevolent rash, and most importantly, Rosie and I got an opportunity to wear matching outfits, which is really all that matters.