I Went to a DIY Music Festival In a Children’s Museum

“Shit,” I thought as I stared up at a life-sized whale skeleton hanging lazily from the ceiling, “I’m really messed up right now.” In an all too familiar post-midnight haze, I wandered through an indoor treehouse to find Toronto-based art pop four piece Absolutely Free slamming out kraut rock synth jams in another room. I watched as psychedelic projections tessellated across the stage. “Fuck,” I said, I’m pretty sure, out loud, “Grickle Grass is awesome.”

Grickle Grass is an annual music festival in London, Ontario that takes place in the London Regional Children’s Museum. It’s a DIY labour of love by a group of altruistic music lovers in the city, and it celebrated its five year anniversary on Saturday night. The organizers invited the local scene’s finest to play alongside out of town acts like the previously mentioned Absolutely Free, Halifax’s Walrus, and South African-Canadian afropop-influenced R&B goddess Zaki Ibrahim.

The fest’s day programming featured family activities like cooking for kids and sustainable gardening. I tried their curry, and found them to be actually decent cooks. When the sun went down, there was music and booze. The museum’s exhibits were open and offered some pretty ideal makeout nooks, like the space room’s docking bay or the arctic tundra.

Local heavy hitters like operatic ambient-glitch duo Wormwood and mathy experimental punk collective Serf Kanata, among others, filled out the night and got everyone psyched for the headliners. I played under a fully moveable replica of the Canadarm with my band New Zebra Kid as old Bill Nye episodes looped on a monitor in the mock control station. It was totally surreal.

The surreality continued as Walrus played a set of hooky psych rock in the main lobby and mind-bending visuals graced the carefully-laid decorations. Absolutely Free’s room featured tie-dyed flags strung up across the stage and more psychedelic projections. By that time in the night, I was floating through it all and soaking it in.

The night’s climax was an energetic set by Zaki Ibrahim. When I checked out her outfit, comprised of a shawl made of weaves and a ton of gold, I’m almost positive that I transcended corporeal reality into some kind of bizarre and fabulous astral plane. Mercifully, I came back down to earth just in time to ask her how her Grickle experience was.

“A lot of connectivity was happening with the shows. It was really, really, really cool,” she said. The other acts echoed her sentiments. “Best. Show. Ever,” was how Walrus’ Justin Murphy put it. Wormwood’s Christina Willatt told me, “It’s like nostalgia for an experience I’ve never had.” Andrew Lennox, a member of Serf Kanata and a long-time Londoner, saw the event as the fulfilment of concerted community efforts. “You can feel a definite energy in the building,” he said. Absolutely Free’s Matt King and Moshe were impressed by how only one person passed out.

If there was one downside to the event, it's that the acts’ timing continued to go askew throughout the night, causing Absolutely Free and Zaki Ibrahim’s sets to overlap. It forced people to choose or, like me, split their attention. But these things happen, especially in DIY, and it’s really hard not to stay positive at Grickle.

The diverse programming and eclectic music reflected the festival’s commitment to inclusivity. From the middle aged suburbanites who stuck out like sore, cargo shorts-wearing thumbs to the hot, young downtown kids there to get fucked up and see their friends play, Grickle accepted everyone with open arms and a bottle of Steamwhistle. It’s that community spirit that makes the festival so unique.

See, London is a lot like The Simpsons’ Springfield. The mayor’s an affable crook, the police aren’t afraid to use a little excessive force, and we even have our very own Monty Burns-esque evil rich guy—who, coincidentally, just bought the Children’s Museum. It might be a certified Shit Towne, but like Springfield, it’s the people who make it an amazing place.

“I couldn’t do half of the shit that I do if it wasn’t for the people that step up because they believe in it. It’s hard, man. It’s hard working in DIY,” said Savannah “Savy” Rae, the fest’s lead organizer and a staple of London’s music and art scene.

“People say, like, if you were in Vancouver, this festival’s perfect for it. You’d have so much money, so much support, so much funding. Well, I’m not in Vancouver. I’m here. I’d love to be in Vancouver someday; I’d love to be everywhere, and I’d love to take this concept all over the place. But, one day at a time. Until then, I will do everything I can to keep this one going.”

I really hope Savy keeps her word, because Grickle Grass is a testament to what a bunch of dedicated individuals can do if they work together. That’s a rare thing these days, and the museum’s out of date and somewhat broken down attractions alluded to an all too common lack of public-mindedness.

Grickle Grass is a vibrant reminder—though, admittedly, it’s still a little hazy for me—that community spirit is an important part of music. And, I guess, so are sand pits, treehouses, and giant whale skeletons.

Photos courtesy of Cory Downing

Jordan Pearson is a writer living in London, Ontario - @neuwaves

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