Get drunk - Charles Baudelaire

Get drunk

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters;
that's our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time's
horrible burden one which breaks your shoulders and bows
you down, you must get drunk without cease.

But with what?
With wine, poetry, or virtue
as you choose.
But get drunk.

And if, at some time, on steps of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the bleak solitude of your room,
you are waking and the drunkenness has already abated,
ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock,
all that which flees,
all that which groans,
all that which rolls,
all that which sings,
all that which speaks,
ask them, what time it is;
and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock,
they will all reply:

"It is time to get drunk!

So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time,
get drunk, get drunk,
and never pause for rest!
With wine, poetry, or virtue,
as you choose!"

Charles Baudelaire

RAMFEST 2010

The hypnotic, crazed sounds of Pendulum have been intruding my dreams…these propane nightmares…all night. And tomorrow I’ll be seeing them live. “I’m telling ya’ll its sabotage!” With headphones on, sitting in my office, the voices of the energy thieves who surround me fade as the pulsating beat of ‘Slam’ reigns mightily through my mind. Today’s going to be a great day. And an insane weekend lies ahead. It’s Real. It’s Alternative. It’s a carnival of music. It’s RAMFEST 2010 boys ‘n girls.

Cape Town’s renowned for her mad trance parties, but I’m a rock festival girl at heart. There’s time to actually chill and not everyone is bouncing around loving’ strangers all fuct on some type of psychedelic tripor MDMA. Oh, and there aren’t swarms of ‘trancies’ or hippies. I always wonder where the hell these people gather during the interludes between trance weekends. Can’t help thinking of that Island of Lost Socks. Maybe they have there own little island, existing only through song, dance and luminescent fabric. As Hunter S would say, all these “savage beasts” are disguised as people lovin’ hippies.
Then again, those beasts are at the least, entertainment. Us, on the other hand… Well, we’re all a cranky cult of cocks ‘n c*nts, disguised as ambitious hard-achievers. All in the assembly line, waiting for our luck to strike double platinum. Hustlers, existing in hourly breaks and self-depletion.

Friday night: the prelude to Saturday. Fokofpolisiekar, The Narrow, Yesterday’s Pupil and Kidofdoom….just a few of the names I should mention.
For those of you who can’t figure it out, Fokofpolisiekar translates in English to “Fuck off police car”. Originally, with the band’s inception in 2003, Fokof had come together as a bit of a mock to the long-standing conservatism renowned to Afrikaans culture. From there developed a new wave of music – Afrikaans Rock. An English girl myself, I generally don’t understand most of their lyrics, but I sing along and jump around just like the other rock kinders (children) around me. Fokof is renowned for putting on a crazy live show and they pulled through for all of us. Fok Of Polisie Kar!!!

A band without a vocalist, Kidofdoom always amazes me; these guys are something special. Trade in a keyboard and hype stage presence and you won’t miss any such scrambled syntax. With Kidofdoom, The Music does indeed speak for itself.
Yesterday’s pupil – another band everyone’s talking bout. All I can say is a hot lead singer and an energetic performance. The last act, their rock-indie lullabies put no one to sleep. I know this because at about 6am I woke up to sneak a pee next to my ‘tent’ (a shade cover with gaping spaces either side) and was welcomed by a group of metal heads hiding in the early morning shadows and a lonely photographer delighted to have captured the splendour of my wake up call.

Saturday. I’m cut for space here, so I'm sticking to the highlights.


Voodoo talk.


It was all playful splashes and 10 second dunks until I got told that some faulty dude shat somewhere downstream. Apparently this was all warm-vodka-OJ-mix nonsense talk, but that was the end of my murky rendezvous. Great vibe up on the river bed though. It happened to be the place where all my disappearing friends had vanished in wonderful oblivion to.

This ‘Voodoo Island’ spawned all the essential ingredients for a good time; sick dub-step and electro beats, plenty of spliff and booze and a mountainous backdrop to the flailing bodies, all sweating and probably covered in pooh. It was a festival within a festival, and it was definitely the best spot to be in the 38degree furnace, which that Saturday had turned out to be.


Band talk.

Jack Parrow – Afrikaans Rap, need I say more? He’s a parody of pretty much everything and wears a hat as long as his arm. Check out youtube for some insight.

Lark. If there ever was an angel trapped on earth and destined for hell, Inge Beckmann would be her. An estranged such angel, with a voice that projects the strength of an orchestra: haunting, daring and beautiful all at once. She pierces our souls by a route through our ears. The whole performance is sex on stage; an experimental ride of operatic trip-hop twisted with macabre lyrics and crazy stage effects. And,albeit no longer together, Lark remains truly astonishing.

Pendulum!!! Slammed and crammed, everyone had planned to ‘meet everyone else at the front’. I’ve been toReading and some other UK festies, and aside from the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s and 2 Many DJ’s, Pendulumseriously blew me away. The only way I can describe their performance is that it was as if they were playing their first every show, just for me. Their professionalism, tightness and true appreciation to be in Africaresonated throughout the 1.5 hr set. These guys are masters at hyping up a crowd, and my God, I’d love to see them again in a small, underground venue.

I was just coming off a gram of shrooms and had managed to salvage a 2l coke bottle with some type of wonderful mix inside. It was the perfect moment. I and the bright skies above overlooked a crowd gone madto the banging sound of D n B. I was happy to be alive. Looking around, everyone was sweating and smiling, and I knew there were happy too.

A few days of unrivalled silliness is an addiction one just needs to feed at times. Myself? Well, I couldn’t have picked a better time, or place, for some reckless behaviour. Nothing like the present hey? Such like right now. It’s time for my designated smoke break. You see, you have to remember kids; I am, after all, just another human “caught in the rush of the city of madness”.

High-Tops and Highways to Hell - The Life of a Free Agent

 I asked the subject of this week's MOOKS Report, to give me three adjectives that describe a photograph? And he gave me two... not because he couldn't conjure up a third, but because following rules isn't really his style. 
Say hello to Justin McGee, a guy who is making his way in advertising and fashion arenas throughout the photography world.  Just check what his plans are for 2010: "I and two other friends, Jamal and Jean, are going to be opening a studio in Kinshasa... it's going to be mad!"

Indeed it will. If there is anything I know from third year economic history classes and hanging out with these guys, it leaves me unsure as to who I should be wishing luck. Is it the rebels or rather Justin and his crew? Well, at least the rebels can now look cool. A bit of colour and texture can go a long way in making an impression, good or bad. A change of tone can lift even the gravest of souls. Life isn’t all that bad when you're dressed in thigh-cut skinny's and some dashing old school Nike high-tops.

The naked eye can see many things, but put a slutty SINAR 8X10 in front of it, and some wicked style behind it, and you will see the dirty and the pretty, the sad and the vicious, all juxtaposed and over-exposed in primary colours at the same time. Silly ideals of records and mix tapes, written letters and supper at the dining table, well Justin has managed to keep real this magical feeling of the old-school. The untouched, raw beauty of imperfection. He brings this feeling to each photograph and in a way that makes a girl like me stoked to be writing about a guy like him.

Here's a bit of my interview with mister McGee.....

Finish these sentences please: "The city is......"

Dirty and wonderful

"It's all about the....."

Jacket and cap.

"Cool......"

Cool denim



"These fucking....."
Girls kill me.


Do you have any other current creative pursuits?
I do these digital collages that are huge in size like 2.5 meters by 2.5 meters, which I have exhibited in Cape Town and Durban, and turned into wallpapers for clients.



If you could match a song to Cape Town - what song would it be?
Fischerspooner - Emerge.


Fashion photography - where did your interest in this start?

Nick Knight was a huge inspiration for me but the interest came from the different stories you can play with.


Your craziest shoot to date is?
Shooting for this High class strip club. Three days 20 strippers... Totally FUN!!!

What's your favourite piece of clothing in your cupboard - or on the floor?

I collect jackets! But my unsurpassed jersey at the mo is this 50's Springbok bowls jersey. It’s amazing, and still has the original Springbok symbol on the heart section.

F*ck peripheral success; hybrid culture that leeches onto what others have already established as 'cool'. And, although he admits to using a digital: "my clients want fast service and confirmation on the spot that images are perfect", I'm sure one day he will turn the lights down low in his Repunzal-sized room, mix-up some chemicals and delve into the realm of film. 

The digital will be sold and a pair of spanking new kicks will find a home, as for the rest of us? Well, we'll still be riding a digital highway, freaks on speed, all wired up and ready to get nasty. And rich, of course. But madams and sirs, let's not forget that this is a highway to hell. As Hunter S Thompson said "A pig today…bacon tomorrow" bitches!

But, whatever, f*ck the pigs, let’s eat and drink. To what you may ask? Well, to trips to the jungle and making it back safe. And I'm sure they'll make it back just as fine. After all, the bacon in Kinshasa's got nothing on the A Grade streaky we got here.

Always should be someone you really love...

I’m paying tribute to life's distractions today. More specifically to lovin’ these little distractions. And living love. Bra Boys just ended. “ooo ooo my friends, I’m glad I turned out like that”.

I’m feeling all warm-like…red red wine and a little hash rolled with love. Simplicity. Sweet fucking simplicity. I’m lost in my cold coffee, smoking a Marlboro, distracted but happy.

This is a report about a boy. And a girl. And summer in Cape Town, and new years on a roll. It’s about eating blueberry nerds and getting messy on school nights. It’s about laughter, inspiration and popcorn. Like life, I guess it’s about everything, and nothing, all at the same time.

Fuck being Emo, everyone here is digging being happy. And being Cool with being happy. Perhaps it’s the endless summer that’s got the whole of Cape Town caught in a spell, but for once I am a part of it.

Things I HEART about CT:

R5 taxis
The Atlantic Ocean
Drunk bergies shouting “Jou mas se POES” on the street
That the mountains meet the ocean
A whole city of people happy to be in South Africa. (Fuck those of you who aren’t!)
The Rock
XXX lifestyles
Foreign-people getting lost
Taxi drivers recognizing you as a local and charging the tourists double
Getting tourists to buy us drinks
Being a girl
Finding a boy
The Endless Summer
Mooks and all the other street stores
Black Label drafts at Rafikis
A joint effort to push Keeping it Local

My bro always told me you got to go through the shitty times to appreciate the good ones. Life keeps reminding me of its inherent inconsistency. Time fades, space becomes earth and dreams become smiles. Humanity. Pleasure. Eye contact. And glorified mornings for two.

“Such boundless pleasure…leave no time for later” (Frou Frou) No more waiting, it’s time for livin’ and lovin’ and, yes, everything that comes with that.

This is a report about love in Cape Town. And it’s about a boy with the “eyes of the bluest skies” and a girl chasing butterflies.

Peace. Love. Sunshine.
Sarah Claire

Become. Be. B Familiar

Coarse toe jam and the promise of new freckles, it’s a pretty picture from where I stand. Cape Town beaches are all ‘wish you were here’ post card moments. Standing on the beach, I’m surrounded by fembots, topless Germans and the irritating little vendor guys selling granadilla popsicles. I’m here to check out a scene that is still ruled by the kids who do it for no other reason than passion, pleasure and mainstream release.

I’m here today to open my mind to the subculture of skimming.

Trying to educate myself a bit, I’ve spent the last few days watching borrowed DVD’s and YouTube clips of skimmers around the globe. Aside from realizing the speed, timing and concentration necessary to pull of the skimming tricks, I am aware of the void of media infatuation that hierarchy structure I find in surging. Tricks on the streets and the snow have now been brought to the water.

Since the late 70’s with Victoria’s inception of fiberglass boards, skimming has since evolved into a XXX sport that’s growing with each high tide. And we’re beginning to see it all around us. And rare, in our capitalist currents, is that this is a subculture determined to keep alive the vibe of the underground – there’s no
space here for egos or media sluts, just plenty of room for reveling in the fun, adrenalin and good times skimming brings them.

I’ve found some guys who are behind this movement. Meet B Familiar, an inniative that’s all about “skim
boards for skim boarders made buy skim boarders”. B Familiar is committed to keeping the beautiful, raw uncontaminated spirit of a subculture breathing, and pushing ‘local’ forward in style.

I caught up with Stew Gardner to get to a bit of familiarity for myself.

Where did inspiration for starting B Familiar come from?

“I have always skimmed since I Young but the product has always been hard 2 get my hands on or a little
pricy .the sport being so huge over sea s I guess we just saw a up and coming market in this sport.”

Who is behind the brand?

Well I’m (Stewart Gardner) the shaper and involved in glassing, spraying and sales. My bro Shaun is handling
the advertisement and design side, and our dad Frank Clayton is our voice of reason and manager of B Familiar”.

What is B Familiar’s ethos?

We stay away from the industry of mass production, putting passion and attention to detail into each of our boards.


What are your boards made of?

They are shaped from polyurethane foam with two layers of 6 once fiber glass cloth on the bottom and 3 layers on the top. We use polyester resin 2 seal the fiber glass

Give me three words that set you apart from others involved in the production and design of the boards?

Quality, aesthetic innovation, strength.

Thanks Stew…

With my arm hanging out the window riding the wind’s current, myself and two skimmers are off to share a beer and make the most of the few hours of sunlight. Looking at them talk in smiles; I realize they are two guys part of a sub culture of friends. The ocean is a part of them, it lives in their veins and shines through their eyes, this was never about the money, and never will be.

Let’s keep supporting this subculture of individuals, who are in it together.

A place where everyone has a story...

Only 20 minutes south from the concrete couture, assembly lines and hard nights, you'll find the endless serenity of South Africa's mother city. While many are quick to complain about Cape Town, I’m sure even some MOOKS Report readers have felt discontent towards it - you know - can’t really see yourself ‘living it up' in a city filled with crime and punishment. But just like Dostoevsky’s classic novel, Cape Town is a city of depth and intrigue, and one that requires you to read between the lines to fully understand. To look without judging and to venture off the beaten track, where you'll discover a different side to Cape Town.

While it may not be the yellow brick road, the road that leads to Kalk Bay, a fishing village along the rugged terrain of the Western Cape coastline, makes for a delicious Sunday drive with visual toppings thrown in for free. As the urban landscape softens and the abrasive vertical and horizontal lines transform into organic curves and endless skies, it's Valentines Day and my destination is the beautiful - you guessed it - Kalk Bay. A charming multi-coloured, multi-cultured rustic location by the sea, where everyone has a story to tell, including me.

Unfortunately mine has a word limit. But take a closer look at the smiling, honest faces, sporting expressions of gratitude for life’s simple pleasures. It reminds me of New York's Soho, only by-the-sea. There's a distinct beauty and rich array of colours that make Kalk Bay, Cape Town’s place to be (Bakhtin would dig it here). Nestled below the rugged mountain, Kalk Bay’s harbour is lined with splintered boats, squawking gulls and humans by the droves – an image many have tried to capture and sell in city galleries.

Below me, underneath a bridge, is what seems to be a gathering of one large family. Dispersed members are absorbed in a game of dominoes, and have attracted a crowd of seagulls and others like me who pose with a camera hoping to capture something special.

Old antique stores are filled with dusted treasures that remind me of bougainvilleas and dinnertime china that my mom would never use. A second hand book store is a place where each bound story, fiction or non-fiction, carries in it a tale that's not written by owners long gone.

And that’s what this beautiful, charming seaside labyrinth is really all about. From the fisherman, to the seagulls, to the day visitor, in Kalk Bay, everyone has a story.

Skirting stereotypes, embracing the music.

Engrained in the soul of Rock ‘n Roll is the power of passion, passion for life in a world where music is one’s life. The universe spins around vectors of frequency, as tempos alternate and sound resonates, bouncing off the buildings and the faces of the subcultures that roam our streets. Chasing dreams and showing us we can catch them is a band that that needs no introduction; The Dirty Skirts.

The Skirts capture the raw, pure sound of the 90s and have infused it with technical manipulation and present it with an electrifying stage presence. The Dirty Skirts is “Jeremy de Tolly on lead vocals, guitar and synths, David Moffatt on guitar and vocals, Markie De Menezes on drums and vocals, and Passion Paliaga on bass and vocals.”

It’s 11am and it’s time to catch up with Jeremy. I’ve been awake since 6 and Jeremy, just arrived in JHB, has been up since 4 30. His telephone demeanor paints a different picture however. He sounds acute, enigmatic and humble. His candid wit and humble enthusiasm puts me at ease immediately. It’s as if I have just phoned a mate to talk about a gig we got terribly drunk at on the weekend.

Conversation flows with ease, and the long distance ambience is one of mutual respect. There is no ‘head in the clouds’ type of hedonism that one might expect from a band with such a rising celeb status. It’s refreshing and intriguing.

How do you ‘keep it real?’
“Experience has played a large role. We realize there’s a distinct parallel that exists when you enter this industry and really embrace it. I mean just look at Coldplay. With success comes criticism.”

How did you guys meet?
“Well, I met Dave at a braai in 2004 and it just all started to roll from there.”

Always finding moments of rare honesty in the small details, I enquire about the food they ate that day. Indulgence of beetroot salad gave way to conversations on speed, enthusiasm about future projects. And the enthusiasm keeps building.

In 2010 the frequencies will be maxed, tweaked and remaining as dirty as ever. “Our sound has evolved and at the moment we are a cocoon continuously metamorphosing”.

They have remained fresh by employing this attitude of curiosity; their inquisitive sound embraces avenues that have yet to be explored. “It all comes down to loving what you do. Without this passion success, in whatever form, will never flow”.

2010 is going to be a year of surprises, for them and us. The expression you see on your younger sibling who opens a brand new box of crayons. There is a feeling of stimulation on the horizon, and it’s a feeling that we are all a part of.

What has been the most significant learning curve since your inception?
“Well, it’s all learning curve. Each day there is something new to learn. We’re in the woods, howling at the moon”

Shooting stars, howling at the moon and hitting the high notes, Jeremy and the rest of the band approach the elements assigned to Indi-Electro-Rock with an open mind. The wind is blowing for the Dirty Skirts, and with their new album coming out and festivals lined up, there will be plenty of love being spread. Love and music. This is life. That’s all we really need, and now we have four people who are giving it to us.