This is not a love song festival review 2016

The main charm I found was in some of the small side-street café’s like Kitchenette - where I ate bagel’s every morning and La Grand Bourse Café where Hemingway used to hang out and drink Pastis, so I made a point of going there and had four or five in his memory.

The central reason I had arrived in Nimes was to check out the “This Is Not A Love Song” indie festival that takes place a short bus ride outside of the town at the Paloma music complex.

The festival has been drawing big names in the scene since its inception in 2013 - Caribou, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Death Grips and Animal Collective had all played sets in previous years; bands that have big draws on any festival line-up.

The festival prides itself on being a collaborative project built around independent culture. The line-up of bands, the street food on offer, the niche décor and side-show entertainment are central to this philosophy and you can tell all have been hand-picked for their authenticity and the atmosphere they create throughout the festival. People are wearing top hats and braces, old ripped band t-shirts are everywhere and it seems like everyone smokes.

The festival has a modest three-year existence and it means that they have been able to keep their soul without having to give in to exterior pressures and thus affords a much better experience to the limited amount of people who are lucky enough to attend. It’s busy, but not overcrowded. The security guards are pleasant, because the people in attendance are genuine and authentic. Nobody had gone too far over their limits of consumption; because people are there for the music, man!

The festival makes a big effort to be cashless; it means merchandise, beer and some food can only be bought after having put money onto a pre-paid card. It seems like a huge hassle to have to queue at the start to do this before you can even buy a drink, but it ends up keeping the bars flowing very quickly further into the festival and the idea is catching on at major events across the world.

I had gotten to the Paloma complex before any bands had taken the stage and realising I was famished, my first stop was at a boutique burger van for what has potential to be the best burger I’ve ever eaten. It was freshly cooked to order and had the best quality ingredients. I would go back next year if only to taste that burger again!

I stood eating my burger while I waited for the messy and insane garage-rock band called Ty Seegal and the Muggers to start playing when I bumped into some Australian folks who had travelled down from Geneva for the festival. We got chatting beside the “Flamingo” stage as the band’s arrival was imminent. We discussed the schedule for the rest of the evening and realised that because of our differing tastes it looked like we were all heading in different directions after this show.

Ty Seegal ruled though. And The Muggers looked like a bunch of inmates trapped in his musical asylum. At any festival it’s almost impossible to see every band that you want to, but the scheduling of this festival had a layout that made it easy to make the crucial decision of which band to skip when it came to a clash and timings meant you could catch half-a-set of each if you really needed to.

The four stage set-up at “This Is Not A Love Song” presents a lot of options for the organisers and for festival-goers alike. There are two outdoor stages, The Flamingo and The Mosquito, and two halls inside the arena.
The Paloma Club inside the arena is a small room with only a 370 person capacity so it’s always going to feel intimate and will suit a lot of acts whose sound can get lost in the wide open expanse of an outdoor festival.
I’d made a point of seeing jazz saxophonist Kamasi Washington perform in the club; and to hear him and his band play on that intimate stage beneath two glowing chandeliers was electric. There’s an essence of hip-hop in his feel from having worked with Snoop Dogg and Kendrick Lamar, and the whole audience were educated in his music and grooved along with him.

Later on in the night, while we stood watching another band, I got talking to one of the two drummers who had played on stage and I asked him what it’s like playing with Kamasi. He said “We’re well-rehearsed but still on the edge, we all improvise but we’re solid and we always watch for his signals for the changes”. That’s how it feels when you’re watching them – anything can happen, but you know they’ve got it under control.

I moved outside into the descending darkness to catch Chocolat, a French-Canadian band whose recorded songs don’t really do justice to the energy they produce live. They stole the whole festival for me and had a constant mosh-pit throughout their set - much to the displeasure of the single security guard charged with maintaining order around the Mosquito stage. During the last song while he was distracted I strolled past his security-post and through a gap in the fence into the backstage area. I didn’t have a pass to be there or anything, but a mixture of confidence and alcohol saw me through the barrier and into the fairy-light lit darkness of a backstage forest.

The guys from Chocolat had just finished their set and were going wild because it was the last stint of their tour and they all had plans to head off in different directions around the world the next day. Sharma was keen to party so we grabbed a few beers from the cooler and stood around smoking cigarettes and then decided to go and watch the end of Foals set after he’d attended to some of his drums.

All the roadies’ equipment lorries were parked up backstage with a few people strewn out sleeping on top of flight cases and in makeshift hammocks. We walked up the rear-ramp to the main outdoor stage and out to the side-stage area with a great view of Foals doing their thing as we stood staring straight into the faces of the thousands in attendance. The guitar techs, roadies and sound-men up here were kept busy by the bands constant tweaks as we hung out and chatted about music. The stage lights lit up the black surroundings; sometimes red, then an ocean blue changing to an intense white, lighting up the expectant faces of a bustling crowd.

After a while I’d had enough of Foals so headed back out into the crowd were I was pleased to see band-members who had played earlier in the day mingling with fans. Some of Kamasi’s band were chatting to a group of girls, the lead singer from The Mystery Lights was having an intense conversation with a couple of couples; and the guitar player with Daddy Long Legs was hi-fiving people as he walked past with a drink in his other hand. The atmosphere was easy-going and the good people here respected each other and the bands.

At the end of the night I wandered towards the bar to get rid of whatever the remaining balance on my card was and uncharacteristically I noticed that the ground was devoid of rubbish across the whole festival - after one full day and with thousands of people having partied - it was spotless. There was camaraderie at the small bar; everyone realised the staff were being made to work their hardest due to an entire crowd descending upon them. Tonight’s festival was over and everyone just wanted one more for the road.

Those who hadn’t estimated just exactly what they had left on their cashless card were being bought drinks by strangers with a surplus on theirs and everyone had the patience to wait their turn. People were carrying vinyl records under their arms and singing to each other as we all made our way to the exit and the buses. At the bus stop younger people got off to let some families and older people take their spot so they could get back to Nimes faster.

The organisers of This Is Not A Love Song understand that the audience is as much a part of the event as the musicians and without one there isn’t another. Believe me; their trust in people has paid off.

The Paloma Arena in Nimes holds other events throughout the year. For next year's festival dates keep an eye on our events calendar.