The Red Wedding: Hannah Jane's Secret Solstice Diary #4 - The Reykjavik Grapevine

The Red Wedding: Hannah Jane’s Secret Solstice Diary #4

The Red Wedding: Hannah Jane’s Secret Solstice Diary #4

Ok, I’m going to start off this review with a bit of a rant because for the last few days, I have been attacked with stupid bullshit from people about these drunk reviews. For the record, yes, this is still a drunk review. I’m writing it drunk, woohoo, but I’m so worked up about a few things that I have to get off my chest before I go for the “review.”

I’m sorry about this. Actually, I’m not sorry. This is my “diary” so I can say my thoughts.

For the past year I’ve worked for this magazine, I have been harassed by people who get angry at me for the most minute of words/sentences in articles. I’ve been yelled at on Skype. I’ve gotten “talked to” in bars. I’ve gotten angry Facebook messages. And you know what? I’ve obliged and changed things because I don’t want to start any drama. This country is super small, remember?

But let’s look at the facts: I’m a fucking journalist for an English newspaper in Iceland. Jesus Christ. Who cares what I think? I have pretty “bad” taste honestly. I love Carrie Underwood. I love black metal. I love the eurotrash look. I love the Kardashians. I can keep naming things, but the overall point of all this is that my opinion is my own opinion and seriously, who cares what I think? Why am I qualified? I’m not. I’m just the one who volunteered to write a review. If you want to share your opinion on shit, email the editor and ask if you can do one.

Yes, I’m a writer. My job is to both tell what’s what but also to keep it entertaining. Do you think I really stalk Gísli Pálmi? No. Do you think I really have a crush on a 16 year old? No. Obviously not. It’s a fucking persona, what do you think? Jesus Christ, are you stupid?

Yes, I think GP and Aron Can’s music is seriously great. It is. That’s a fact. But this is my job. It is my job to write a good article. Do you want something boring? No, crazy shit is entertaining so I write crazy shit.

So people who were “offended” by my depictions of them or thoughts about them in any article. Do you want to not look like an asshole in my reviews? Then don’t act like an asshole. I don’t lie about things people say/do to me. Seriously, are you people stupid? I don’t owe anyone anything. I’m not going to “protect” anyone if you say offensive or rude things to me.

If GP had hit me in the face à la Bam Margera after he read my article, I would have written about it. Why the fuck would I not?

To be honest, I’ve fucking held back. Over the past year, I’ve wanted to give people bad reviews, but instead, I just awkwardly word it so I concentrate on the stuff I did like rather than acknowledge some giant elephant in the room, which is that sometimes, some performances aren’t great. Some artists are totally mediocre. Some are past their prime. Not everyone is the next Björk.

But still, if you want to make music, make music. Who cares what I think?

Yea.

On that angry note, who even knows what I was saying there? I’m going to take a little nap and come back to this later. I’m just so angry at some things people have said to me over the past few days and year, and it totally boiled up when I got home. You know how you get when you get drunk… See you in a few hours. It’ll be a “less drunk” Secret Solstice review.

Wow, ok. So probably 10 minutes after writing that, I was lying in my bed when suddenly my lungs gave out. I got up and started running and collapsed on my kitchen floor. I have no idea what happened but my airways closed up and I couldn’t breathe and I was like grabbing at my throat till I passed out. I seriously thought I was dying. Do you know what my last thoughts were? I was like, Jesus Hannah, you’re going to die of an unrelated medical condition while working on your drunk review. How lame.

I kind of freaked out though because I live alone so if I died then who would find me? How long would I stay there?

I guess I’ll go to the Doctor or something sometime soon. I woke up on the floor, not sure how much time had passed, but then I just lied in bed and breathed really slowly and shook for like 4 hours. This is a totally serious note in the article but hey, it’s my diary. I guess this was karma for being so mean, bitter, and angry up there.

So… Solstice. Yea, that’s why we’re here.

For its last day, Solstice started a bit chiller. I think everyone was a bit tired from the last few days of festivities. I certainly was, but I soldiered on.

I began my day in the campsite, gossiping and sipping on hangover-beers with my friends. I love starting my day in the campsite because then I get to see all my friends who totally died the night before (just like me) and they are all hungover and cute and Jesus, I love it. Maybe I’m a sadist, or maybe I just love bedhead. Oh! Before I went to the campsite, I got a burger in the morning and I saw GKR there and I tried to make a joke and ask if that was his morgunmatur… Why am I a writer? I should be a comedian. Thanks for giving me a pity-laugh, Gaukur.

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Anyway, when I finally arrived at the festival proper, the weather wasn’t super great. It was that Reykjavík-cloudy-gloomy shit and it certainly didn’t raise anyones energy levels.

For the next few hours, I kind of bounced around music-wise. I watched Mammút for a while and enjoyed it. I’m not super passionate about them but they were totally fine. My friends and I sat on the grass, drinking Magic + Vodka (the classiest drink there is) and just relaxed to their ethereal tunes. I don’t really have any strong feelings on them.

But after that reprieve, it was time to go catch my boy Aron Can. I wish it would have been better weather though, seriously. I think the rain and clouds kind of dulled the mood down a little bit. The crowd was, as expected, pretty young but was, unexpectedly, pretty tame. Again, I blame this on the weather. I believe they would have gone apeshit if it had been sunny.

I’m going to be honest. I act like I’m this big Aron Can fan but I actually only know one song, that famous one that goes “Ekki Morall… do do do do do do do do dodododo”. Now don’t get me wrong, I love that song. I really do. But as I said yesterday with Rottweiler, I hate watching music acts that I don’t know the songs for. I find it boring.

I will say this: Aron Can is an amazing rapper. He’s also a great performer. I’m gonna be honest though—I couldn’t concentrate on him because I kept fucking watching his “hype guys” at the back. He had so many. Like legit how many friends does this kid have? More than me, for sure.

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Now before I get into Die Antwood (ahhh! Die Antwood!!) I will say that my experience at Solstice was drastically impacted by the fact that I had a press pass, which meant that I didn’t have to wait in lines, specifically the lines for Die Antwood and Radiohead. I had friends who came to the festival to see both those acts but either didn’t get to the lines early enough or didn’t know their was a line and therefore missed them. That sucks! That’s like, imagine if I missed GP. I’d Kim Kardashian cry so hard. No one wants that.

Anyway, I got to Die Antwood pretty early with another friend of mine and we waited in the VIP bar until the moment they opened the stage doors and then we stormed right into the front. We actually got in a fight when we were pushing through. It was pretty exciting.

But when they started… holy shit. Ahhh! It was amazing! I put my friend on my shoulders and we danced so hard. After about like 4 songs though, we were just so fucking sweaty—and you know, it’s important to always look good—so we left, bought a few drinks, and went to the balcony. On the balcony, we stood in the front areas where everyone was just standing and watching but we were totally like yolo, I’m going to dance and danced so much. I love to dance. I only know how to dance kind of slutty though, but who cares? Ahhh! I love Die Antwood. It was one of the best shows of my life. A+ Secret Solstice. A+.

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Well, there’s no GP update for today. I didn’t see him. I hope I never see him again, seriously. I love doing this writing but I sometimes hate the real world consequences of things… I just want to live my life, bro. But yea, I literally hope we never run into each other again. I’m such a crazy person. I just want to forget about all of this.

Oh! I was corrected on something I wrote yesterday today by Blaz Roca. Apparently, *apparently*, “Bara Negla” and “Bara Seira” only rhyme if you say them incorrectly like me. If you actually speak Icelandic, they don’t. So ignore my thoughts on that. Or don’t. Why should you believe him over me?

Anyway, I’m still in my bed very sick and struggling to breathe. Sorry this review wasn’t that funny. It was a range of emotions. First I was so angry I wanted to break something. Then I almost died. Now I feel kind of ok.

See you next year…if I make it.

 


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