SKA, SKINS & A SEASIDE TOWN’S RESURRECTION
SKABOUR FESTIVAL HOSTED SEVERAL VETERAN JAMAICAN MUSICAL ICONS (AND LOTS OF SKINHEADS - WHO CAME ALONG TO MOONSTOMP).
Symarip lead the skins on a moonstomp - I know, not a job for the fainthearted!
During Covid I often set off on long cycle rides and one of these saw me start out from Hastings with the aim of covering both coast and ancient marsh lands until I reached Folkestone (from where I’d take the train back to London from). This is just under 50 miles and, at least on Google Maps, looked straightforward.
Of course, it turned out to be anything but, beginning with an extremely steep hill out of Hastings testing my stamina, followed by my phone running out of juice once I was lost on the Romney Marshes… Somehow I survived and arrived in Folkestone as the sun was setting, stopping only for a desperately needed pint before undertaking that final (again steep) ride to the train station.
My brief sojourn in Folkestone led me to note contemporary sculptures on the beach, an elegiac harbour and a chic pedestrianised street - in contrast to a seriously scuzzy high street. “Looks like an interesting town,” I thought, “I must return.” Well, last weekend I finally did.
This time, I left the bike at home. I had no intent on stretching my legs (beyond exploring Folkestone by foot), instead, I was here for Skabour Festival. Skabour’s a small festival focused on ska and 2-Tone music - it turns out this was the fourteenth such Skabour festival. That I’ve been unaware of Skabour before this year shows I’ve not been paying attention, past events have featured many notable artists. My bad for being so Londoncentric (and thinking the London Ska Festival – which isn’t a patch on Skabour – was where the occasional action was).
Skabour is held in the Grand Burstin Hotel, a huge building designed to resemble a ship, right on Folkestone harbour. I’ve been to boutique festivals celebrating soul (Detroit and Northern) and 60s pop, so have an idea of how these things work. But I’d never previously been to a ska festival (the aforementioned London SF doesn’t qualify as its not held by the seaside and isn’t a gathering of the tribes).
I had some trepidations about Skabour due to the festival’s website showing pictures of skinheads dancing: when I was a teenager the Auckland skins were violent thugs who went to gigs to pick fights and smash things up. As with punk, they were a colonial confection where Kiwi youths tried to emulate a British scene – and the British skins of the late-1970s revival were, for the most part, also violent and, in some cases, brutal racists who attacked (even murdered) Asians. Not the kind of people you want to share a weekend with, then.