The Art Of The UK Festival - a Conversation with Vince Power - London, Summer 08
By: Alex Lee Thomson
Attending your first music festival is as much a part of growing up as losing your virginity, smoking a cigarette and realising what a hangover is. It's also as much British, so much so in this country that we've been at the forefront of live music events for decades. From Glastonbury (say what you will), Reading and Download to Bestival, Camden Crawl and the Secret Garden Party, we know how to throw a shindig, arguably too well with a myriad of events taking place over the summer this year - there's simply not enough time to grace them all, even if money wasn't an issue. As the credit crunch beckons, the economy drips bare and our beloved events have reached a saturation point, we spoke to Vince Power about the seemingly lost art of the great British festival.
Power, founder of the Mean Fiddler music group that so successfully resurrected Reading and promoted an impressive list of London venues, has recently sold his empire and after a contractual three year absence from UK festivals is back this summer with the Mighty Boosh festival and, very excitingly, Hop Farm with Neil Young.
We met with Vince at his Primrose Hill restaurant, sat comfortably in jeans on a sunny afternoon he was far from the daunting character I'd heard about, welcoming us cordially. Despite being 61 years old he's showing no signs of retiring, telling us, "I never really stopped because when I sold Mean Fiddler, which was huge, I mean there was really nothing else we could do with it other than buy more festivals, I went and bought Benicassim two months later". Having spent the last few years on the Spanish event, along with running a Piccadilly night spot, Power was more than ready to lunge back into festivals this summer. The advice was quick to pour.
"Festivals are all about people you have in your little black book", Vince said on his experience booking large scale events, "It's easy to find a field, though you see a lot of people get it the wrong way round, they find a field and say, wow that would be a great place for a festival. But forget that, you know, you need a headliner to put in that field. If you've got the right bands people will go to a bog to see them, they'll go anywhere. The most popular acts will pull the most people, I mean just look at Foo Fighters at Wembley".
"It's so crazy, booking headliners now because of the competition, we're already looking at next years bands which we never used to do, almost directly after one finishes", he acknowledged as we dug for information on future Kent outings. "Yeah, I'm looking at next years Hop Farm already, looking to make it a three day event with this year just being the precursor [you heard it here first folks] making it somewhere between Reading and Phoenix, though you'll be too young to have been to that one I'm sure".
Despite diving back into UK shows, he will continue to have an interest in Benicassim, just a few days before our interview being on site to discuss an expansion of the sites camping facilities. It's easily forgotten that Vince is a remarkably hands on promoter. "It's a great way for you and your friends to have a holiday. You can get cheap flights, camp on the beach and the weather is 99% guaranteed", he recommended on the European event, just one of international festivals that are capturing our attention more and more for very obvious perks. "We're so burdened now with curfews and sound levels it really, really pisses people off. My kids tell me the thing they like about going to Benicassim is that they can make as much noise as they like. You go to Reading now and you have to deal with ninety something DB, it's so frustrating now for the promoters and the bands".
"Reading is much more about the music than anything else; down to the way they advertise it. It's like bang, bang, bang here's the bands you want to see, it's my favourite festival", Vince said on the topic of festivals today having to cater beyond music, to include arts, theatre, poetry etc. It seems absorbing the arts at a festival, from installations to left field performance, is almost a standard. We expect to be entertained and cared for, far beyond the call of musicality, and in a way as customers we've come to expect too much. "I've never thought Glastonbury was a festival about the music at all though, it never used to announce the line up until after tickets had sold out". They'd have a job this year though, eh Vince.
On that, Vince had picked out an outstanding attribute to his character; his love of music and wanting to do it justice at all his events. Storming concept. "I had the opportunity to do a big GAY festival on Clapham Common", he stated with his balmy Waterford accent, "but when the council granted approval they gave me a DB level of something stupid, eighty something, and I said I can't do it because I'm going to get in trouble with the artist and that's the end of my relationship with them. So I pulled it because of that". The idea that somebody of Power's stature would call off an event as he didn't feel it was to a high enough standard musically is invigorating and restores your faith fairly in characters such as himself in the music industry. It's inspiring to know that towards the top of the ladder are people that care about music, something we hear less and less about as the music industry falls apart, finally dragging down these last parts of the live sector, apparently. In England we've hit such a saturation of festivals, most of which though driven for the right reasons, all compete with one another until breaking point. 2008 has seen that breaking point. Not so much dog eat dog, but certainly survival of the fittest.
"I think there's been lots of fallout this year but that's good in a way as there are too many, but some will survive", Vince argued, "they're such a huge expense, and if you're not strong willed then agents, bands and production companies will take you for a ride". It's easy to see how a festival can be born from the best intentions but, hindered by a lack of experience, fail where it counts - on cold, hard ticket sales. This was the brass felt by Blissfields and Redfest this summer. Music fans used to hit a few festivals a year, maybe a pair of big ones, a boutique one and a locally held show, though now as the economy drops we're forced to chose between them all far more strictly which as more are established each year is making the whole business buckle. This for instance is the first year in memory that Glastonbury has not sold out until the afternoon of the opening day, showing just how no festival, no matter how established, is immune to the changing tide. Admittedly, it's a nice problem to have from one side of the velvet rope.
"Festivals in general have changed", says Power, "Reading for instance had always had two stages when I started, as had Glastonbury. I'd never done festivals before but I thought it was ridiculous, you had two stages and the crowd would move over from one to the other, so I decided to just have one stage and have the next band ready on rolling riders. Everybody's trying to upstage one another now with all these marquees, you must find now when you go to a festival you get knackered, you can't see enough. It ends up with a lot of people staying on the campsite. You walk through the site at Reading and there's like 60,000 people camped there... it's like a refugee camp... and a lot of people stay in there, they just come out to see their favourite bands".
This simple ethos was the back to basics approach behind Hop Farm, a far more grassroots style event that will hopefully host at atmosphere that we've been wanting in recent years. Staring at the base of what will be his new kingdom, the Vince Power Music Group, you have to wonder if he feels, despite his bold and tough exterior, if he's still self-assured about the industry. "I'm not worried, not scared about competing", he promises us, "When it comes to putting my money on the line I'm up there with the best of them. I don't have the money of AEG or the MAMA Group, but it's not always about the money. Some of the big corporations put together a festival and it's like painting-by-numbers. A festival should be about creativity and the people around you, putting a soul to the thing. Bestival has that feel, it rings true. Reading rings true, it has an identity and a soul to it and that's what I'm trying to create. You can't do it by throwing money at it".
His ethos was reflective of hungry young promoters, slightly naïve and full of romanticized ideas and ideals of music yesteryear. "Oh, I could give you a chequebook and you could do it", he proclaims and as ever tempting as that offer is you have to examine the current ambience of festival overindulgence we have in England and appreciate that experience counts for so much, aside sheer passion. Again, we're reminded of Blissfields and how fortitude doesn't always transcend into success, though should always be at the origin of a project. "It's the same with a restaurant", he continues, "You need a personality around it. The customer is very sensitive and they all have their own identity and when the recession kicks in it will get better because the customer will start getting looked after again. I think we need to get back to a situation where the customers recognise they're the most important thing and not the brand, I hate to see this sort of thing like 'Carling presents', well Carling doesn't fucking present, Carling couldn't tell a band from a set of drums, they don't present it".
Of course, Neil Young is famous for his disinterest in corporate branding and though Vince states that he knows a sacrifice of profit is being made, he doesn't need a profit; he needs a success to put him back on top. "It doesn't matter if I make £100k or £2 million, I want to make it happen", he enthusiastically shares, "I just love doing things and the idea of doing something, and making something, is far more important than money".
"I've never really done it for money; there have been times when festivals have almost broke me. Back in 1993 I nearly lost everything at the time; I lost a million and a half which was a lot of money then. [Jesus, it still is, isn't it?! - Ed.] I could give you my list of top 20 failures, but we've had the good ones which have kept us going. But again, it's not about the money... I'd be dangerous if I had a lot of money".
With children in their late teens and a new empire to build, while during these difficult times, we asked if he was more cautious today than ever before. Famous for being an assertive and difficult promoter, this caricature image has certainly never done him any harm, an element of intimidation being key to some of his deals. "Well I'm not more cautious actually, that's the fucking worrying thing, and I should be shouldn't I? Old age has caught up on me, but I'm not growing up. I don't have that squirrel attitude of storing those nuts up. I actually know I have an ability to survive anything, even if it's just with a small bar, as that's where I stared, and in a way I've always thought it was a small miracle that I got anywhere".
"It's always been driven by the passion and energy of those around me, people with a passion for music, that's what made the Mean Fiddler a success. I like to think that if I'd been the captain of the ship they would have been the crew actually making the boat sail".
It's very obvious that control is a big factor to Vince Power, and what you can argue as a wanting to be as hands on as possible, could also be construed as an overbearing lust to rule. For whatever reasons though the way he works with his events have given him a strong reputation for being there at ground level with two fingers on the pulse (as well as up to 'the man'), from greeting ticket holders as they walk in to choosing the bands from the offset. "If left to my own devices I would go back to Willie Nelson but I've got kids who get me to listen to new things, from R Kelly to everything else", he shares with a slight chuckle and flight of charm, permitting us to pose whether his children get a say in the line-up of his festivals. "They think a festival, like Benicassim, is a wish list, like a menu, saying I'll have that, that and that, so I get them to put together their ideal festival and I can look at it and say, well they're too much, and they're not available and whittle it down to a few bands. You could put together a festival that looks so fantastic but trying to get the bands to play, and getting them to play under each other, is not so easy".
So, sat in a place which was a far cry from the Mean Fiddler front of house, Vince has the world both behind him and in front. If this summer's Hop Farm is a success it could mean the remarkable return of one of music's biggest characters who, though approaching a bus pass, still has a massive determination to continue working in an industry he so wholeheartedly loves.
"I wish something would kill that part of my brain that makes me want to work", he insists as our time draws to an end. "There's a drive in me, an insecurity maybe. I still don't believe that I'm lucky enough to be where I am, and that somebody is going to tap me on the shoulder and say get back to where you belong. Maybe one day I'll go and get myself a house or villa in Marbella, sit around and burn my skin to a crisp, get crinkly, then become old, get cancer and die". We urge that maybe steering some of the world's best festivals into dock might be a better way to be remembered in your autumn years. "I think so", he concludes.