The line up for the next few months looks somewhat mixed, very much like the general public opinion of the new apparel. All initial views are based on first impressions and full opinion is yet to be developed. Sadly, my first impressions of the place are not good. I spent ages waiting around the front to be let in for 10:30pm. The staff were as clueless as the Blue Peter crew. A few days before, while trying to prebook the tickets, I couldn't hear the advisor over her alienating speaker phone and had to rely on a near-by tramp for translation. So far Carling, you have yet to impress! Your doltish little widescreen TV's and your labeling of local independant bands. "ooo' what local beer shall I have? Oh. A Carling apparently" I'm also giving it a few months before the new paint smell dissapears only to leave an over bearing swamp of genital sweat and cheap aftershave. We have the smoking ban to thank for that.Momentarily putting aside these complaints, the evening itself was suprisingly enjoyable. The overall set was a cross breed of classic Hip Hop and Dub - if I remember rightly, there was some Lee 'Scratch' Perry and of course Bob Marley. Mainstream yes, but impossible to avoid. Reggae has a wonderful ability to instantly put you into a good mood, and totally naturally. Weed does tend to go hand in hand with the genre (at least it does with me) and trying to separate the two is like trying to become a communist without first reading Karl Marx. It's Insanity. Besides the previously hidden smell, the other inconvenience the new smoking ban presents is the impossibily to get away with a checky spliff during a gig. This is something I personally will miss, to my mind it's poetically required while out on a reggae binge. The whole philosophy all seems to slide together. The blurring of ganja and great dub, indescribable and invaluable to those who have never tried.
DJ Derek has been doing his set in Oxford for many years now, back when DJ's simply played the tracks without an oppressive ego to deal with. Unfortunetly, the later it got the worse the music got. Still, some truly great moments. He would often talk in between tracks, introducing and discussing (one topic was the recent Burma protests which I've been following obsessively for the last week). To me, it was refreshing and gloriously old-school. To others strangely, his chat didn't go down well and certain ignorant fuckers began to heckle telling him to get on with it. It's ironic really. Some people are misunderstanding the idea behind reggae. The only solution? Inject them all with concentrated marijuana. Or, even better, valium. By that point I think they'll fully understand the idea of "being chilled" and we wont have to listen to them anymore. They'll just collapse in a stoned stupor, breathing heavily but smiling. It is precisely this that worries me about the new zodiac: new clientele that comes with the branding (free of charge). There have always been wankers at gigs however. No need, I supose, to over-react here.
Although I had a good time and although I'm remaining generally positive about the next year and its promises, I can't help but feel a tiny bit mournful. I can't help but feel that we will all miss the old zodiac before the end.
On the 5th of November I'll be going back to see and old zodiac favourite: 65 Days of Static. We'll see how their powerful and provocative sound stands up to the neo-plastic atmosphere. We'll also see if The Fall ever decide to return, which, I seriously doubt.
