Shambhala

The Salmo River Ranch is nestled deep in the heart of the Kootenay Mountains just north of the 49th parallel. Visitors and locals alike are amazed at the beauty of these sharp young mountains overrun by coniferous trees. They led the Canadian province of British Columbia to advertise itself, somewhat audaciously, as “The Best Place on Earth.”
The Ranch is unrivalled in the devotion it commands and joy it inspires. For the past eleven years it’s been home to the annual Shambhala Music Festival. Yet it feels sacrilegious to label it as simply another electronic music festival. Shambhala is so much more than that. Unrivalled and unsurpassed anywhere in the world, it is a singularity, a confluence of factors combining to catalyse an explosion of sheer ecstasy.
Ten thousand people flock to the Ranch each year and on the first day tents are erected throughout the jumble of fields, forests and a river. Various stages dot the landscape, each offering a unique experience. The Fractal Forest, with its turntables in the middle, is surrounded by towering trees. Lasers refract through the mist, piercing the raindrops and bouncing off branches, drawing astonished gawps from the throng of revellers. Trees are plastered with glowing paintings, giant dreamcatchers and in one corner is a massive silver pyramid. In every direction paths lead to other stages. The trails cut through the forest, lit by glowing orbs, twinkling fairy lights and sometimes only the glowsticks of the ravers who bear them. Vast neon paintings adorn the great trunks; intricate models of miniature houses populate the treetops, almost too high to see them. The next stage is The Village, an outer courtyard lays through tall wooden gates. Through a further set of doors the huge open dance-floor appears, surrounded by rising and falling platforms which are all connected, providing vantage points from every possible angle, though thousands of people are too busy dancing to watch. Countless paths lead out of The Village, going to tents, other stages and bizarre clearings full of odd people and abstract art you’d never find again at a second attempt. Walking further across bridges and through twisting glowing tunnels you eventually come to where the forest opens out to The Living Room, a beach stage burrowed twixt river and forest. Here is chilled out ambient music, for those relaxing, resting or simply sitting back and trying to take it all in. There are other stages, the Rock Pit, a dirty dance floor dug deep down into the ground, as well as The Pagoda and Labyrinth. Yet none contain the ethereal majesty or raucous energy of Fractal or The Village.
The music at Shambhala is the bassiest, most aggressive and most exciting line up of any festival anywhere. The sound system is a 90kW fire-breathing monster. The DJs play a twenty-four hour pounding mix of the very best dubstep, funky yet deliciously filthy electro, breathless drum and bass as well as that downbeat ambience some people crave. The line up this year included Skream (see interview above), Bassnectar, Bonobo and the prodigiously talented Excision.
This being high up in the mountains and in Canada, the pharmaceutical selection on offer is absolutely extraordinary. Everything is out in the open and whilst not expected, it is more than accepted. Any chemical high you’re looking for is here in abundance and for impressively low prices. This isn’t just a drug-addled mash up though. People at Shambhala for the most part will understand the narcotics they’re taking and be in control of their high. The first aid tent is top notch and there’s even a pill-testing tent for you to determine exactly what’s in those strange looking green things you just traded in exchange for a cigarette.
Yet when reflecting on why Shambhala is so magical, why it truly is the best five days of your entire year if not your life, it always comes back to the people. Everyone is so excited to be there. Here is a chance to behave with joyful abandon, dance from dusk through dawn and longer. An opportunity to wear whatever you want, be it beautiful, ridiculous, or indeed nothing at all. It is a common occurrence to hear incredulous cries of, “I can’t believe it’s really Shambhala” or “It’s really happening right now!” For those who’ve been before there is such joy that it’s here again, whilst Shambhala virgins are almost overwhelmed at being somewhere quite so fantastic. It is more common still, to hear people shouting, “Happy Shambhala,” as if at Christmas or Easter. The religious connotations of this are no coincidence. We are ravers. This is a rave religion and Shambhala is our annual pilgrimage. Non-believers must rethink their heathen ways and make their way however they can to Shambhala, for here truly is The Best Place on Earth.

Bestival 08

This was Bestival’s fifth birthday, and never before had there been any rain. What with friday’s forecast being for “a month’s worth of rain in a day” 30,000 odd people set out for the Isle of Wight with trepidation. Well it did rain. The word torrential has rarely been more apt. The mud was predictably about 8 to 10 inches thick across the entire site. Yet people still dressed up and the atmosphere was quite nice, especially on the Saturday afternoon when the sky became a slightly lighter shade of gray. The rain did get very wearing what with the effort to walk anywhere, the indoor stages being rammed and the large number of acts who had to cancel. Yet Bestival had various problems entirely separate to the rain. The sound systems were almost all very weak. Even if the systems had been better, the levels were often very badly judged. For example, when CSS were playing you could barely hear Lovefoxxx singing, which is madness because she’s the whole point of the band. When Aphex Twin was playing no one could tell he was actually on, the sound was so quiet everyone assumed it was just an in-between DJ. Also, the headliners were universally shit, apart from My Bloody Valentine. In addition, someone had the audacity to try and sell me Canderel, while claiming they were tablets of something considerably more exciting.
That said, Mary Anne Hobbs was brilliant and Jon Hopkins played an incredible set on the best system at the festival, until it broke, for the fourth time that weekend.
So in summary, it was quite fun. If you’re more a fan of the gleeful silliness and dressing up than quality sound systems or quality drugs, then next year head to Bestival, I won’t be there.