What the fuck was that all about then? Sat on deckchairs atop a snowy mountain, necking Jagermeister whilst Wu Tang Clan blare out at avalanche inducing volume – you do begin to why anyone bothers with Ibiza. Seriously; given the choice between spending a week being fleeced rotten by sun-burnt cunts flogging hayfever tablets as you pretend to enjoy yet another sigh of euphoric house or ascending a mountain to melt the night away in a BMP igloo, what would you go for? The former? Jog right on… The latter? Welcome to Snowbombing.
A decade old, Snowbombing sees a few grand of punters heading to the alpine town of Mayerhofen with the sole intention of titting around in the snow whilst listening to some sterling music. Glib in type, the actuality of the event needs to be seen to be believed – as the chocolate box setting is transformed into Caligula’s Rome: On Ice. Dotted around the town, the various venues cater primarily for the dance fraternity – with this year’s acts including 2 Many DJs (a last minute and superior replacement for the rehab ensconced Fatboy Slim), Dizzee Rascal, Jon Carter, Fabio & Grooverider, Benga, Plump DJs… Yada yada yada. Yet just as Beefa has diversified in recent years, so Snowbombing has too – erring away from the club and drafting in the likes of The View, Mr Hudson, Ladyhawke and The Noisettes to ensure William Cowper wasn’t made a liar. The result is a varied festival that would be a good draw were it held on an airfield in the Midlands, never mind 1000ft up in the Austrian Alps.
So were it any cop? Yes. Yes it was. Ignoring for now the less than impeccable behaviour of some attendees (I’m talking about the pricks bothering a homeless man on the main street) Snowbombing was a Ye Olde knees up – spending the afternoons breaking bones up the peaks and evenings at 35% ABV in a sweaty mass of salopettes. Highlights included the woodland party wherein 2 Many DJs hammered the crowd with a selection hits which erred towards student disco but never descended into House of Pain, The Noisettes claiming Eye of the Tiger as their own, and Clash’s very own Arctic Disco where Mr Hudson, Jon Carter and Greg Wilson get busy in an igloo halfway up a ski slope. The final word should go to Beardyman, making a surprise appearance at the Clash do; “Snowbombing is a bit like fucking The Queen. You do it to say you have”.
