Outbreak Festival in London had been highly anticipated. We came all the way from The Hague, NL, specifically for it, drawn first and foremost by Fleshwater and Have A Nice Life — the latter made us buy tickets instantly, months ago, without a second thought. But up until Have A Nice Life’s early evening concert, we hadn’t really felt the chills — mostly due to poor soundchecks from the earlier bands. Perhaps it’s the usual curse of the openers versus the headliners, for whom everything is carefully prepared, including the sound.
At that point, we had sort of lost the mojo — but of course, our expectations for Have A Nice Life remained sky-high. They’re one of my favourite bands of the past 20 years: mysterious, goth-rock, and perfectly in line with my love for dark rock — from The Cure in the early ’80s to Slowdive and shoegaze in the early ’90s.
We arrived 25 minutes before the show and realised the queue to get into the 500 person tent, guarded at the entrance, was gigantic — stretching almost the entire length of the festival grounds. We were lucky enough to get in. We even saw — like in some disaster movie — three young fans wearing Have A Nice Life t-shirts, arriving just 15 minutes before the concert start and almost certainly missing it, walking back to the end of the line, crushed.
At one point, while waiting, I thought: even just listening to the concert from outside the tent would be a privilege — that’s the effect Have A Nice Life has on me.
Have A Nice Life are a bit like Godspeed You! Black Emperor back in the day: surrounded by a totally deserved aura of mystery, goth sonics, and apocalyptic beauty.
And live, they’re exactly that. The singer is in a trance. The music is tribal. The crowd is in a trance too, singing every word in total communion — like a cult anthem, or something religious, but born out of love rather than belief. Still, something spiritual definitely happens. If you’re a believer, it might feel like being closer to God. For me, it was like being closer to the power of the Universe. I almost cried, of joy.
Have A Nice Life are grounded people. The two founders are family men with kids. One is even a high school teacher. So I wasn’t surprised to hear the singer say things like, “We Americans are good people. What’s happening now (referring, I assume, to Trump) won’t last,” or “This is our first concert in the UK,” with visible joy and gratitude.
We left the tent shaken. People around us were saying things like, “I came from the Netherlands just for the day, just for Have A Nice Life,” or “I came from Glasgow this morning, just for them.” The Outbreak Festival carried on, but for us, it felt like the end of the world had already happened — and we had just been reborn.
Nota – from The Guardian, 15th of June, Article “Outbreak festival review, hardcore and pop hooks collide in impeccable genre-fluid lineup”: “A failing of Outbreak (Festival London) in this format is putting some of the most cult-attracting acts on the third stage, enclosed in a small tent, meaning plenty of disappointed punters are left outside for the likes of Sunny Day Real Estate and Have a Nice Life. I really feel for the latter fans who miss out on the day’s best set. This US band went basically unnoticed for a decade before online forum-dwellers amped them up, and the passion of their following, singing back Bloodhail like supporters of a League Two side that’s just made it to Wembley, electrifies the room. The band themselves are on superb form, from the foregrounded bass to the Cure-like atmospherics and the oaken heft of Dan Barrett’s lead vocals (very unlike Alex G on the main stage, who regularly ends up in an entirely different postcode to the key he’s meant to be singing in).”
Concert And Vinyl 