Go to The Playground Presents XXYYXX & loads others…

…for 15£? Notice how the question started with words, then shoved in front of your eyes is this picture with names of some ridiculously good artists printed on some pretty nice red/bluey clouds and the XXYYXX triangle thing, then the question finishes with words again. You should probably just look at the picture. Probably shouldn’t read the words (although not without noting the reference to the very slight monetary burden of the whole idea). Indeed, The Playground have here continued to astound with a crazy good line-up of music, artists that we love, that I love. I feel they have firmly planted in my head a big ball of queasy excited imagination at the idea of being in KOKO, Saturday May 4th, 9 o clock in the evening; being there glancing at my friend and being a bit drunk and perhaps almost definitely simultaneously doing the thing that people do when bass and music is centre of attention. You should probably go as well. Probably not do that thing you were going to do instead like waking up and sitting on a bed, reading music blogs and looking at what your friends are doing even though they’re probably all doing the same thing as you. Bed people. Anyway! We wouldn’t be such a music blog if I didn’t now word some extent of appeal that each and every artist holds, being the ingredients you can slowly circle around in your head and mix with water; cementing a good decision.


This artist sets a scene, a feeling so good, a feeling; like huge polystyrene rocks in your head, in a huge blue white sky, dangling on a line from nowhere, yo-yoing so so slowly, split-second jerks, huge movements, rhythm, pent up tension, line releases, rocks swing upwards and down again. Indeed, even when this 17 year old increases BPM to the steady of 120, I still feel colossal weightless urge of head eyes and ears to fall and sync with every other beat, fall head, fall body slow, quick excited bubbles streaming out of a large slow moving whale, in your head again.


Blackbird Blackbird

There are loads of different versions of euphoria I can imagine; the epic stirring overwhelming one on a mountain that accompanies seeing huge distances to horizons far beneath and below, the forbidden can’t-stop-laughing one in class at school after your best friend mutters something unspeakably funny, there’s the joyous relief one often felt on finding something that you really really treasured and thought you’d lost, there’s the enlightened-feeling one you get when someone expresses something you thought untouchably complex and you feel you really understand.  I’ve got sidetracked here: my initial intention was to say that Mikey Maramag, as Blackbird Blackbird, sounds like sprinkled billowing brightly-lit euphoria, the kind of euphoria that accompanies everything that is coincidingly laughy light-hearted and summery; a great deal of memories at least.


If I’ve started off this preview with the golden headliners above imagine Salva directly before, supporting. For this guy produces sounds sometimes energised like ridiculously so, energised constant underlying 1/32, in and out, sounds oscillating, screwing up everywhere, the kind of rhythms that haunt you at night in a way you’re not sure during whether it’s horrible or intensely satisfying but after you wake up you’re completely invigorated, half-memorable chest-pounding good-ness.

Slow Magic

Summer again! Relived, respirited. Slow Magic; huge wave machines on stage, cascading excited swooping flurry of waves upon people, salty-tasting waves, evaporating immediately on hot sweaty arms, every person reminded somehow slightly of something happy, smiling around, “ah fuck I’m so content right now” songs played into their ears, shallow sea of people, the flashing lights, memory of sun flickering in dark room. Good.


One of many creators of songs played by friends at some circular-sitting gathering, songs of whose name and creator I am unaware, but that I don’t consider asking “who’s this?” because it would interrupt the music, too good a situation to interrupt. That applies to a huge number of Giraffage songs actually now I come to realise; good imaginings fluttering over my mind; that time we sat around in a circle listening to anonymous electronic music that made us feel good. If you have liked the previous 4 artists mentioned, you will like this. It will make you feel good too.

Mt. Wolf

Fantastic glowing vocal music that is so so spacious, soundtrack to huge landscapes, huge landscapes caught in the movements of a girl’s face, mouth opening just singing this voice out, singing out this landscape. But also building of rhythm visible/audible, through fog, towering, playing tricks on the eye/ear. Confused senses, eerily dreamily pleasurably confused.


This gig is perfectly placed date-wise, May 4th, on the brink of the brink of the brink of summer; summer transforming from unforeseeable to foreseeable around about the time of gig. For here yet again we have an artist so so capable of summer-creation through music. Sun high. This time the Swedish perspective, dreaming repeating looping, breathy lyrics, arpeggios delighting, smiles forming, looking around, eyes alit.


There is a second room where the following are playing:

Charlie Traplin
The Ninetys
Maxx Baer

Oh wait, all that stuff is on the picture at the top, probably should have looked at the picture, probably shouldn’t have read the words (although not without noting the reference to the very slight monetary burden of the whole idea mentioned at the beginning)!

Probably should go bud.

Buy tickets here 

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