Hands up: I’m a musical elitist.

I don’t mean it in a malicious way, I just have pretty specific standards for music. Those being: it has to be well performed, posses some sort of significant form regarding its genre constraints and it has to ignite something emotionally. Whether that’s eviscerating emotional experience or a nice wee dance is irrelevant.

This year I was lucky enough to get accredited to take photographs at Hevy fest. My first official time being a photographer at a music festival. Sure, by the standards of your Reading and Downloads it isn’t big, but by my cooler than thou punk rock standards getting to shoot at the same festival that some of my favorite bands of all time are playing at is pretty big. I was going to get to shoot some of those bands.

The big dog had arrived.

If by big dog you mean slightly unsure, socially awkward and pretty unprepared small ginger puppy.

Recently I saw a pretty interesting BBC4 documentary ┬ácalled “Whatever Happened to Rock ‘n’ Roll?” hosted by Lauren Laverene. She quizzed a few musicians on whether they thought rock music was dead. Unsurprisingly, the old out of touch men ( in this case Dr John Cooper Clarke and Eric Burdon) said that it was. Because it wasn’t how they remembered it.

The sole female member of the panel, Jehnny Beth, of the wonderful Savages, pointed out that it isn’t. It’s just that music is different, the social landscape is different, the technological experience is totally different. It’s just different.

Death may well be a change, but to change is not to die.