Nestled in the sun-drenched heart of the English Riviera, Burn It Down Festival returned to Torquay for its seventh year with a blistering celebration of alternative music that set the seaside ablaze. Since its inception in 2018, the festival has grown from a grassroots dream into one of the South West’s most electrifying indoor events, drawing punk, emo, hardcore, and metal fans from across the UK into its tightly packed trio of venues. With the sea breeze just steps away and the roar of guitars echoing through Torwood Street, Burn It Down once again proved that Torquay is a rising force on the live music map.
The Thursday of Burn It Down Festival started for this writer at around 6pm with a band called Soapbox, a heady mixture of cheap socks, big guitars, speed drumming, Scottish attitude and Buckfast wine (if you know, you know!). They're very much a ‘does what it says on the tin’ band. In a small but already sweaty venue they went down a storm. With the lead singer happy to stomp about and jump in amongst the as yet not very dense crowd, by the time they had finished with their last track ‘Yer Da’ everyone was thoroughly warmed up.
And then it was Hyphen, resplendent in matching branded Hyphen sports kit, this socio-politically aware rapper writes songs about brown people and rich people, about pubs, boats and offices, but does it with humour, humility and an ear for a cracking riff. I hope the rapper Aadarsh Gautam’s upcoming nuptials do not blunt his lyrical edge because smiling assassins like Hyphen are what this world needs. One of my highlights of the entire festival will be seeing a man in a full-length Elmo costume crowd surfing during a song called Colombian Marching Powder.
Next up were Snayx and they were phenomenal. After some setting up issues they got going and hit the ground running. Red stripe and big riffs was the order of the day and I am glad that the health and safety executive weren't looking too closely when you have the frontman standing on top of a very, very wobbly stack of speakers. Great set, after Soapbox and Hyphen, they did well to raise the energy level even higher.
And finally the act that made the third night of Burn It Down happen, Bob Vylan graced the stage. I say ‘and finally’ because the stage management of one drum kit, four empty signwritten crates and a Palestinian flag seem to take forever. As is his way, Bobby Vylan firstly helped us all warm up (it was already tropical but seemed like a responsible thing to do) with some light stretching and meditation. Resplendent in matching blue Fred Perry sports kit there was at least one man that both looked the part and dressed the part for the sweatiness that was to come.
Straight into the first song and immediately Bobby Vylan is in the crowd. It felt somehow appropriate that he started the gig being held aloft, supported both literally and metaphorically, by the misfits and disparate throng of gig goers to whom he is currently a very visible champion. The floor of The Foundry did not have a mosh pit - it was a mosh pit. There was movement everywhere and the whole ground floor swirled and steamed like a human waterfall. Fast and especially furious ‘We Live Here’ then ‘Chat Shit, Get Banged’ followed, accompanied by the memorable optic of a tall black man with a big smile and dreads to his waist, in leisurewear wielding a cricket bat like it was a kind of willow scimitar. Before sanity was lost entirely a big thank you went out to the organisers of Burn It Down who were one of the first people to reach out when Bob Vylan got themselves into' a little bit of trouble' as they described it, and decided instead of weathering the storm they would double down on their point of view, now proudly adding BBC bandits to their ever growing list of monikers.
By the end of the set and the end of the first day of Burn It Down, there were many smiling red faces, many damp t-shirts and hopefully the man who was ejected for crowd surfing off the balcony hurt neither himself or anyone else. It would have been a shame if that was made the story like when Sid Vicious blinded a girl at an early Damned gig, because today was the best kind of protest. It was a joyful celebration of people's right to be different and to have an opinion, the right of everybody in our country to choose to love, laugh and pogo how they want. And they did.
Words & Pictures - Rich Dunn
