The ludicrously early date of the 2nd of January can only mean one thing for a few thousand folk, mostly of a certain age, but refreshingly interspersed with youngsters too (though in fairness, ANYONE under the age of 50 qualifies as a youngster to me these days) – the annual pilgrimage to Butlins, Bognor-on-Sea for everyone’s first gig of the year, the call to fun that is the Rockaway Festival.
Two and a half days of bands, record fairs, interviews and silent discos spread over two rooms – the large Centre Stage for the majority of the acts and the positively hangar-like Studio 36 which played host to each day’s headline acts, in this case, Idlewild and Soft Play on the Friday, Dry Cleaning and Public Image on the Saturday and Coach Party and English teacher on the Sunday. For those who’ve been coming here for a while, Reds (the “Small” room before that role was usurped by Centre Stage) has become the “Late Night” venue, featuring a variety of parties and DJ sets, whilst the Skyline Stage delivers up quizzes, Q&A and other assorted fun.
If you can’t find SOMETHING in this little two and a half day microcosm here to keep you entertained, you seriously need to be considering your life choices, dear reader.
As I may have mentioned in previous reviews, the trick is not to try to see everything, because you can’t – the best you can hope for is catching everybody until teatime on Centre Stage, then spending the remainder of the evening either hopping between there and Studio 36 to catch a bit of everyone, or deciding whose sets you want to see in their entirety, grabbing a good standing spot near the front, or, for those of more advanced years, finding a table and a couple of chairs at which to tap Doc Marten-encased toes whilst exchanging gossip with friends over a tankard of foaming something or other.
Alternatively, you might not want to do EITHER of those things for the whole two and a half days, and that’s the absolute beauty of Rockaway Beach – if you haven’t splashed out on band merch, there are plenty of other ways in which to part with your hard-earned readies, from pumping pounds’ worth of pennies into the falls machines, to trying to hook a fluorescent furry duck that you know will absolutely REFUSE to be hooked.
No matter how many times you might try, to hitting the video and basketball machines for no real reason other than the fact that they’re there, alongside the friends with whom you’ve travelled from the four corners of the UK in an attempt to shake off the post-Christmas blues. This IS the seaside, and absolutely nobody does it better than Butlins.
The site is conveniently situated 15-20 minutes’ walk from the town centre, where there is no shortage of eateries who will provide breakfasts that will soak up the indulgences of the previous night’s revelries and for those who seek to ponder the meaning of life and IPAs in equal proportions, the beach is even closer, and when the weather is nice (as it was this year), there’s no more perfect a place to grab a coffee (and, on this occasion a MOST excellent fish finger butty) on the seafront and simply watch the world go by.
Also, if you don’t want to leave the site, there are many eateries and a little supermarket that will cater to pretty much anyone’s culinary requirements.
Back in the camp, the musical fun starts at 16:00 on Friday and 12:00 on Saturday and Sunday, and what you do between then and midnight (and beyond) is entirely up to you. There will be some folk you definitely DO want to see, some who you want to check out based on recommendations of friends, and some you absolutely want to avoid at all costs – that’s the beauty of music after all – one person’s meat is another person’s murder and if you like something, great, if you don’t, all the publicity, promotion and persuasion isn’t going to change your opinion one bit – and that’s totally cool.
For that reason, I won’t bang on TOO much about who I personally went to see based on past performance (Bruise Control and GANS), those with whom I caught up because someone with impeccable music taste told me I should (Chest – oh MY…), some simply because of who they were, (Public Image Limited didn’t disappoint, even WITHOUT a yak outfit) and some because, with my photographer hat on.
I tried to catch up with because they might be visually interesting, whatever they sounded like (step forward manic masked rap act Blackgold who met BOTH criteria and woke the Sunday afternoon crowd up with a vengeance). Once you’ve silenced the screaming banshee of FOMO in relation to acts you HAVEN’T seen, the weekend suddenly becomes so much easier to cope with (and for that reason, I’m not going to bang on too much about who I DIDN’T see either).
At previous Rockaways, I’d find myself shaking my head in puzzlement to see folk walking around, pint in hand seemingly not taking part in ANY of the entertainment on offer (and for which they’d paid, too) but at this my fourth, it clicked into place – the entertainment, be it singers or slot machines, question and answer sessions or quiet (nay silent) discos, recording artistes or record fairs are all on offer, but just because it’s on offer doesn’t mean you HAVE to eat everything (or indeed anything) at the banquet, and in a world where choice becomes a scarcer commodity by the day, that freedom of choice is refreshing.
Run continuously between the two rooms, or just dip in and out, and nip back to your accommodation for a cheeky mid-afternoon snooze – it’s entirely up to you.
Rockaway’s other key offering as the sheer variety of musical genres on offer, from the measured introspection of Insecure Men to the biting social commentary of Antony Szmierek from the grinding shoutiness of Paris-based but London-sounding (and pretenders to IDLES’s throne if ever I heard one) Chest, Softplay, Bruise Control and Gans, to the industrial electro of Adult DVD, from the Old (meant in the nicest possible way) in the form of TV Smith, and The Members.
Neither of whom have lost their edge or their desire to deliver messages that are a relevant today as they were when these guys were still finding their way around a safety pin, moving forward through time with P.I.L. Idlewild and Inspiral Carpets, to the New(er), some of whom will have played to their biggest audiences to date this weekend and gone home dreaming of even greater things. All the world is indeed, a stage, but Some Stages Are Bigger Than Others (cheers, Moz).
So, for once, I’m not going to try to review and dissect each band from each day (mainly because I didn’t see them all – I finally took my own advice and picked and chose, and probably had a much better time for it) whilst trying to studiously avoid the use of the phrase, “Post Punk”. Have a mooch at the list of who played, check out their socials, check out their YouTube and discover or discard as you see fit – it’s YOUR choice, remember? .
Oh, then when you’ve done that, book for Rockaway 2027 and enjoy the (Unknown) pleasures of waiting for the artistes and headliners to be announced as 2026 draws to a close. You’ll thank me for it when you’re eating your fish finger butty on the seafront on Sunday lunchtime, I promise. And remember, kids, Staring At The Sea is the best Cure for a hangover believe me (aha, see what I did there? Shut up, Pete – Ed).
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