Camden New Journal - Grooves: Camden Crawl

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The Review - MUSIC - grooves with CHARLOTTE CHAMBERS
Published: 17 April 2008

Grooves

PEOPLE are going for the smaller boutique festivals these days, they say. Well, stone me if they aren’t right, because look what happened!
The mudfest long-drop horror that is Glastonbury is still touting tickets, while the small is beautiful shenanigan that is the Camden Crawl has all sold out.
Punters don’t want to face mass crowds just to go to the toilet. No. They’ve got fussy and decided they’ll only put up with the “one in one out” policy if it means they get to see more than the innards of a Portaloo.
Is this what the future holds? Yes.
Let me recount one of the most traumatising experiences of my life, as a way of explaining the attraction of non-field based musical activities. Last year, at V festival, I touched poo. It was smeared across the back of a pipe in the toilets, and I unwittingly touched it.
Of course I like getting away from it all as much as the next person, and while adventure festivals not available on the Tubeline will always have a place in the collective heart of gig-goers, the Crawl has something of the “you’re not in London anymore Toto” about it.
Could it be the waves of people obscuring the oh-so-familiar streets, or the bonhomie of thousands of joyous revellers singing along in what is usually just a pub?
Take your pick. The only downside to the Crawl is having to wait for the once-an-hour night bus home. It’s hard to forget where you are when you spend the end of the night searching for the yellow wings of the 31.

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