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Every year thousands upon thousands flock to Northam Rock City for Hilltop Live’s ‘Oppikoppi’, and each and every year I have been, one thing runs through my mind. “It’s never too late to double back, turn around, and change your mind. But after all from dust we came to the dust we shall return”. I return every year knowing full well what it will do to my body and my soul. This year was no different.
Thursday;
4:15am brings the sound of the most frightening alarm tone to wake me up to get in my last dust free hand wash, breath of fresh air, and alcohol free coffee. The excitement starts to set in and into the illegally overpacked car I go to make my way to Northam Rock City.
The drive gets shorter and shorter each year for me. I never really expect to get there as quickly as I do, and breakfast at Wimpy Northam is a great idea when you are early. Eating a good meal, more and more prawns flow into town, some just arrive like myself, others who have been there for a night already (you all are the real warriors of Koppi). Finally bill is paid and it’s time to dive head first into the dust bowl. A speedy entrance through main gate, an ice cold ‘looks like we made it’ beer, a quick round of everyone’s favourite game “OPPI”, “KOPPI”, and a perfect campsite spot is found.
Clear thorns, sip beer, clear thorns, sip new beer, clear thorns, setup tent, sip another new beer, and I’m already feeling those first few. The day drags on with laughter, beers, dust clouds, and a few hard partiers stumbling around. Until night time hits and suddenly its rush off to get warm, make fire, and get a well deserved camp fire cooked pooitjie.
Nothing quite like sitting under the stars, with warm food, cold beers, great friends, and the sudden realisation of what the weekend is about to hold. Time for bed.
Friday;
“I’ll see you on the horizon, I’ll see you there at the break of dawn”. True words those. The break of dawn brings blistering heat into your tent waking you from your drunken slumbers. Climbing out of your tent like an alien exiting the stomach of one of those military guys in the Alien movies, your already awake friends giggling at the sight of it. A quick hair of the dog cup of coffee (Amarula of course), a line up check, sunblock, and off to stage area it is.
Oppi wastes no time in giving you the party experience you paid for. Promo girls trying to convince you 10am tequila is a great idea, the first smash of a cymbal, and already drunk prawns running around shouting everyone’s favourite game “OPPI”, “….”.
The day sees people filling up campsites, dancing up dust, hiding tequila & beer in their stomachs, and so many bands it’s is almost impossible to decide which to watch. Aimlessly wondering from stage to stage to hear what sounds good (or has shade) is a normal way of doing things. There is no right or wrong way of doing Oppi.
Night time comes, and the excitement strikes. Get warm, grab drinks, try eat something, and stretch out those legs for the night’s boogie. Hellcats, The Narrow, Newtown Knife Gang, Wonderboom, Khuli Chana, Boargasm, and Bittereinder. How can the first night be any better?
Every act goes down amazingly with no hiccups, problems, fights, or a small crowd. Songs sung at the top of everyone’s lungs, arms raised high, and dust flying high into the sky. History and memories are made.
Friday night highlight: Newtown Knife Gang covering ‘Fallout’ by 16Stitch with a guest performance by Brandon Pratt of Red Helen. Bravo boys, bravo.
Saturday;
I know it’s everyone’s favourite game, and I don’t want to be a buzz kill. Our favourite game is extremely horrid to be woken up by from behind your tent followed by the sound of someone using the bushes there for their morning pee. So thank you for that. Very little sleep, a hang over from the depths of hell, sun beating down, and enough dust in my lungs to build a, to scale, mud replica of Nkhandla, I pound my morning coffee and set out on my missions.
Again, how do I decide who to watch, and what to see, or even where to go. Only beer can lead me now. I mission to the bar, play a few games with strangers on the way, and see where I land up. Screams roar out over Mordor and I can’t feel that I have missed something, or forgotten to go somewhere. Oh, hang on a second. I’ve missed the Naked Run. Every year. What’s the matter with you? I count my loses and carry on with my walk about.
Once again Oppi has made sure you are wrecked day in and day out. More promo girls with tequila, more amazing bands on the hour, and even more prawns needing an AA meeting. Band after band, beer after beer, and “KOPPI” after “OPPI” the day powers through. Night time approaches quickly, the crowds fill in more, and the dust lifts higher. Shortstraw have ended off the day with power intimate performance at the Bruiloff stage finishing their ‘Oppi boosh’ set. What an incredible way to start a night.
I decided to have a bit of a chill, pop the blisters on my feet, and have a beer with my media friends family while waiting for my brother to hit the stage. I might be a little biased here, but I am a proud brother right now. Man as Machine kicked the stage with a failed new intro, followed by a almost perfect performance of straight up rock ‘n roll. I shed a tear or two. Go give my brother a hug and off I go again.
Who followed made me an even prouder supporter of South African bands, Prime Circle may not be for everyone but their performance still proves why they hit the commercial market as hard as they did. Cape Town ska band Grassy Spark ripped me a new one with their high energy happy jams, that almost make sure you can’t keep still, and if you don’t smile you might want to seek help.
Fokofpolisiekar are no strangers to Oppi stages. I could write forever about why they are so good, or why you should watch them. Based on their crowd I don’t have to do either and it wouldn’t have the same effect. You need to be there to experience it.
I make a quick stop off at another stage to catch Made For Broadway, and I’m off back to camp for a goodnight beer and sleep. Last day awaits.
Sunday;
Final day sun has risen, hang overs are strong, line up is insane, day will be long, and the music will be loud. A big breakfast, a few Jager bombs, and I’m ready to go off and win Oppikoppi. The last day always brings a certain sadness, fear, happiness, excitement, and of course, intoxication. Walking around Mordor spotting people doing what I did, jager bomb here and there, shotgunning a beer, amarula in their coffee. It’s definitely going to be a good and rough day. Headline day.
Lineup for Sunday started fairly chilled, building bigger and bigger throughout. Sutherland handing out umbrellas to people to fight the sun was a nice touch to their set and from there, time seemed to fly by. Suddenly all I can remember is Jack Parow smashing through his set with a massive crowd being as zef as possible. Followed by our first international.
Yelawolf, a tattooed southerner playing a combination of blues, folk, hip hop. That alone should have been the reason you went through to their set. The performance which followed would be the reason you go buy their albums afterward. A unique experience of a very unique style of music. A crowd held in the palm of their hand, and a treat to the ears.
August Burns Red. Main reason other than it being Oppi as to why I went. What I had been waiting all day for. The metalcore giants hitting an SA stage. Having already seen them in 2013 I had some idea what to expect. Was I wrong on so many levels with that one! They were bigger, tighter, more passionate, and heavier than I remember. James Phillips stage became a sea of sunburnt metalheads screaming lyric for lyric back at the band leaving them in complete awe and surprise that their South African fan base was as emotional as they were. ABR surprisingly left the stage standing, everyone in the crowd alive, and with the love of our metal community.
Kongos. Now by this point people are pretty much running on fumes. Nothing left in the tank. Booze hitting hard, and dusting slowly killing you. Surely Kongos crowd won’t be too intense. Again, I am wrong. The bands step out to throw groovy track after jamming tune at the sea of prawns. Bringing everyone’s knees to a stopping movement of awkward dance moves, amazing dance moves, and some extremely awkward stay at home alone dance moves.
The dust starts to settle around Mordor as prawn after prawn lay their heads to sleep. The cheers of glasses disappear into the distance, and the final rounds of our favourite game are played into the night. Another year is done. Another year survived. For the lovely young taken to THE UNSEA. Thank you Oppikoppi.
Article & Photos by Alexander Wolf of Alexander Wolf Photography and Lalelani.co.za.
