I am broken. Seriously broken. But there's a good reason for me being like this, in this state. I went to the Netherlands last week for one specific party, and seeing as I haven't raved in a while, it was going to break me anyway. But seeing as you are regular visitors of my website (and Facebook) you kind of guessed which event I went to. And what this is, this is a review of the event and the day before and after.
I am a supporter of GPF for a while now, since the first time I noticed their mixes online. I did feel a connection, so unique and strong, it grabbed me and never let me go. They noticed my work (which is an achievement on its own), and we started chatting outside of social media. They followed me, and of course I followed them. They noticed that I had a shit year (2018 wasn't the best: hospitalized and massive surgery), and were kind enough to provide myself (and the missus) with backstage tickets for their upcoming event in Gemert, Netherlands. I've never seen an act do that for a simple reviewer. Maybe I'm targeting the wrong audience?
Anyway, they made my Christmas special. The tickets arrived (including a free album, dildo, stickers, etc), and I talked to the wife. She's ABSOLUTELY NOT into this music. I took her to a rave several times, and never did I get the chance to persuade her. Trance and House, that's the maximum I can get out of her. But this, Puzzycore, that's not her cup of tea. So I decided to go on my own (it was our gran's birthday on the 16th anyway), and had to tell the wife I was going to leave her for a few days. That wasn't a pleasant conversation.
The rest was going to be history, but I wasn't sure I could attend the event. I was still recovering from surgery, and even today I still feel the agonising pain. But it's going the right direction. So when I felt right, I booked the ferry and the hotel. Obviously I had to take a few days of work, and I had to decide what to do. Seeing as I've got family in the Netherlands, I asked my mum and dad if I could crash at their place on Thursday, Friday, and Sunday night. They were fine with it.
I needed a hotel. But the last time I went to the Time Out in Gemert, that was 11 years ago, and I had friends who lived nearby. They moved away, so I had to get a hotel. Found one on Booking.com's website, so that was handy. Around £55, which is acceptable. Still meant that I had to get a cab, or put my training shoes on (about 30 minutes walking). But that got booked, and the ferry was next. Not to boast, but I'm a die hard idiot: I came up with the plan to do an 8 hour shift, and drive straight after to Dover. That's how much of a GPF fan I am.
Thursday happened, and I left work. From this moment to the second I got home it isn't really interesting. The only thing interesting was the look on the customs person when I rolled the window down and he heard GPF. But besides that it was dull. Especially the long 200 km straight road. Pfew, glad to have cruise control in the car, would have been deadly for my legs.
Whilst at my parents I visited a few colleagues and family members, but you are not interested in that, are you? OK, let's skip forward to Saturday. My dad went fishing, and I went to the hotel. It wasn't far away from where my parents lived, so when I got there, it was a nice area, and I felt relaxed. I felt a migraine coming up, so a few paracetamols in my gob, and I thought I could sleep for a few hours.
The hotel was separated from the actual restaurant bit. When the lovely lady took my details and payment, she said ''I'll take you to the hotel''. I found that odd. But it was at the oppossite of the street. The location was beautiful, but no airconditioning! It felt like I was in an oven! But who cared? I was in Gemert, and the party was only hours away! The long awaited party was about to happen. I needed a kip.
My body said no. So that was a bummer. So after no sleep I decided to go outside after hearing people scream 'GREAZY PUZZY FUCKERZ'. I thought that I wasn't the only one. And I was right! I met others, some from the UK, some from Finland and Sweden. All the way from there to come and rave. That's dedication. They pointed out that I was the only one not dressed to the occassion. Well, don't have any pink clothes, but had something sorted.
We all went back to the hotel rooms. Getting ready. Phoned a cab company, and the cab arrived an hour later. The bloody thing was hilarious: the cab driver was nice (could have used deodorant), but he came in a minibus. And when he dropped me off at the Time Out, he did it next to the entrance. Funny thing? I was the only one in the bus. So it looked like I was important. Gave him a tip, and joined everyone else in the queue.
People were getting hyped up. It did feel weird, me standing there on my own. But that's not a difficult thing to accomplish: I went to my first ever rave on my own (Mysteryland 1998 Outdoor), and stood amongst 25.000 ravers whilst being 14 years old. So being 35 at a club in Gemert would not have been an issue, right?
The lovely people at the entrance scanned me, touched me, and when they wanted to scan my ticket, they said that it was a 'backstage ticket'. Well, I didn't know how it works, I'm not famous lol. They pointed me towards the backstage area, and I had to walk all the way there. Kind of annoyed, but it was a short trip. Met some people there whilst waiting for security to do their work, and became known as the 'London friend'.
This was my first time ever somewhere backstage. Wasn't really what I was expecting. No M&Ms colour coordinated, no lovely red carpet on the floor. Basically a location where the artists could chill once they did their set, nothing more. But I wasn't going there to relax, I was there to party! So I took my white pale arse to the dancefloor, and was ready to be amazed! And that happened.
But first, I needed a drink. I walked to the bar, and a lovely young lady took my order (vodka Red Bull). Turns out you needed tokens. Fuck. Where can I get them from? Walked to the bit where the lady sold tokens, walked back to the bar, and started to drink. Remember I had surgery? Well, it was kidney surgery, so getting drunk wasn't probably the best thing to achieve. But I did it anyway. You know why?
I decided that this was going to be my last event. My health comes first. I've been going to raves for many years, and I couldn't picture myself raving at 55. So stop when you still can. And why not go out in style? GPF's event was the right one. So let's get drunk. Beer was only one token, and had my pockets full with tokens, so I was going to get drunk.
The night started with DJ Distinction. Never heard of the man, but he set the tone for the evening. Got my Nikes on, so I was going to rave my ass off.
Nearly forgot to mention that I spotted Rooler backstage! I am shy as hell, and could have asked him for a picture, but my double chin would not have looked good in a picture. And I always think that they are being asked the same question over and over again during the evening. Should have taken a picture. But hey, I'm late.
Next act were Caine and Rooler. Were they GPF? They came on stage with the masks on, so is it true? Or is it Sefa and Rooler? Or Malice? I'm so confussed. The set was as silly as you would expect! And Rooler decided to showcase his moves in front of the decks.
Thera HC was next. He threw a wicked set, and was smiling all the way through. Love to see acts having fun, because that should be the reason why someone is a DJ.
It was getting closer to 01:30, and GPF came on stage! Matty and Caine! The whole crowd gathered and got ready to be amazed! And even though we already know their back catalogue, they did threw in a few records we'd never heard of. My mind was blown. This was exactly what I anticipated. This was my kind of heaven.
Oh, did I mention earlier I was getting drunk? At this stage I was extremely drunk. So god damn wasted. I needed to slow down, otherwise an ambulance was needed. But would that stop me raving? Nah. Even though I was doing the hakken thing and I felt my kidney bouncing inside of me, I still continued. Could have been the alcohol. Could have been my personality. Whatever it was, I couldn't give a toss about my health. This was my end game.
After GPF it was time for the Maren-Kessel Tunnel Rave Live. Still don't know if this is a joke or not? Is it a spoof? I don't know what it is, but they threw an amazing set. Got everyone bouncing even harder than before.
D-Fence entered the stage. I was really looking forward to his set. And he didn't disappoint. Don't know what he looks like behind the mask (didn't spot him backstage), but that's irrelevant. The set was banging.
During this set I was feeling a bit meh. My body battery was going down quickly, and I had to call it a night. Yes, maybe I am a puzzy. But at least I went. That's the main gist of it. I went, and many didn't.
Thankfully throughout the night I spoke to Matty and Martyna, and he gave me a nice pink shirt with GPF written on it. Still didn't ask for a picture (what's wrong with me). But what I did mention to him was that he (and whoever is GPF) should be proud. Achieving this is just beyond belief. It's not a joke anymore, it's an institution.
The end was near, and I was getting knackered. Walked towards the exit via the backstage bit, and saw Caine standing there. Again, no picture. But fuck me, he does look scary in real life! I did see his images on Facebook, and I thought it was a Viking filter on Snapchat, but no, he does look like he's about to devour an elephant in one bit! And he was also talking to someone else (don't like to intrude people during conversations). And I was absolutely wasted.
Fresh air! That's what I needed! A cab came, and I went back to the hotel. Quickly grabbed a coffee to get the beer taste out of my mouth, and tried to sleep. Woke up 4 hours later, decided to have a shower, and left the hotel. Walked to the restaurant across the street, and they gave me a massive plate, filled with Dutch breakfast things. That filled me up nicely.
It was time to head back down South. The journey was alright, but I felt that there was still a bit of alcohol inside of me. My parents noticed my state, and I showed them images of the party, and videos. And they still smiled. Explaining GPF to the uninterested is like training a dog to cook a meal: you can try, but you will fail. My dad has got an open mind, and he found it funny that I went to this party just to hear this crap.
On Monday the ferry took me back to the UK. Glad to be back in my home country (UK will always be my number 1). Picked up the missus on the way home, and whilst asleep, snored so damn loud, I kept her awake. I still feel sorry for this, she made several videos of me actually snoring so loud.
So, what have I learned from this GPF event? That it was EPIC. And I did embrace it like I've never done before. But what it taught me was that you should take life as light as possible. Don't let the media take you down, but enjoy life. There's no point in making everything negative, when you can laugh about and live your own life. Enjoy it as much as you can.
I really enjoyed myself this weekend. Met a few nice people, saw a lot of inflatable cocks and dolls, and had the time of my life. But I have to end on a high note, and I think I did achieve exactly that. Maybe I will go back raving, but my health comes first. I will still continue blogging, but the raving train has left the station without me. Thank you GPF and everyone I met, and also the Time Out for a wicked night out. Even though I was Billy No Mates, I felt alive and kicking. And that's what raving is about!
I know you might disagree about the music, but think of it this way: they are having fun. Are you having fun? Are you really having fun, typing away behind your computer, complaining about this music? Put all the negativity aside, and rave. Rave safe!
TCD signing off.
Oh, I still feel my legs being absolutely knackered.
Ps. you want to see pictures? Check them out here: PICTURES