So we’ve been here about 16 hours and already, things are steadily deteriorating. Torn ligaments, unexplained bruises and a variety of lost items, the damage report for night one is increasing with every minute of conscious thought. Three bottles of rum depleted in the depths of night one – along with whatever other sedatives got passed our way – we were shocked and appalled at our own utter lack of inhibition. Shame upon us and every other semi-sentient soul shadily strolling these murky meadows at 5 in the morning, guzzling down the last piss-warm drops of whatever drink they’d been holding in zombie-esque manner, snapping out of chemical highs and drunken stupors to flip off a security guard and then somehow finding their way back to the garbage-strewn patch of grass they call home for these 4 days of madness.
In other words, nothing new compared to last year. The festival ground is still the same awesome congregation of fucked up people breaking loose from the chains of everyday life, letting out the rage of an entire year of 9 to 5 or high school or college or whatever it is you don’t want to be thinking about right now. So what has changed? Well, it seems that Dour is finally catching up with the bigger festivals when it comes to professionalism. And by increased professionalism, we mean a markedly heightened dickheadedness of security guards and the implementation of stupid, bureaucratic rules that make Dour (which was once like the Altamont of festivals, fast, free and deadly) into GitMoFest 2010 with the only difference being that the music here is played live. Indicator: our press wristbands now come with barcodes, campsite numbers and wirelessly detonated explosives that go of when you try to take a piss on the wrong side of a fence.
Yes dear friends, once again we are risking our lives to relay to you the unedited, uncensored and unrelenting display of human decay that is Dour Festival. And yes, we partake actively in this Mahlström of bpm’s and dangerously high heart rates, because after all, we are professionals. So right now, we’re sitting in the press area, sweating out last night’s toxins and pouring down the next batch of sedatives in order to reach a mindstate that allows us to fully appreciate the ambience here.
Oh by the way, we did interview someone last night. Who, you ask? Only the baddest, noisiest hardcore motherfuckers at this festival: we sat down for a pow-wow with the legendary Atari Teenage Riot and got a sneak preview of CX KiDTRONiK’s new album Krak Attack 2 which will be released on L.A.’s Stones Throw Records because contrary to popular belief, Myspace is totally alive and kicking, man.