The logistics of putting together this year s main belFEST activities were pretty daunting. At the core of the nine-day extraganza was a splurge of young-ish talent a mere 44 acts playing over a couple of evenings at six venues, free of charge. Built around this was a package of seminars, discussion panels, receptions and more established acts from Ireland and beyond. There was a shambolic spoken word event, plus a special sampler CD and a website (www.belfest.com).
Thankfully, most of the parts came off well. A couple of local acts cried off at short notice and Atari Teenage Riot missed the plane at Dusseldorf. And while many musicians regularly whinge about the lack of music business interest in our little part of the world, relatively few of them turned up for the special industry meetings. Still, the music was generally upbeat, and the venues, particularly Katy Daly s and The Limelight, were jammed.
Even the organisers were surprised by the turnout for Paddy Casey at Morrison s. While people routinely claim that a successful gig has a queue around the block, it was literally true in this case, and Paddy gave it his best.
Arguably, the most important objective during this event is watching new bands lose their belFEST virginity. So, there was the chance to see the likes of S gottabomb (beat prosody plus live drum and bass), Corrigan (mad geezer who used to front The Skinflints), Oops (brightly-hued punk), Nine Bar (country-grunge from Phil the ex-Joyrider) and Tracer (avant-noise with a fringe on top). It was a chance to see Lima, mentioned in this column a few weeks back, play their first high profile show here. Pretty impressive. Likewise with Go Commando, featuring Tanya, the former guitarist with Tunic. Her bag was intense, elemental songs with cello and amazing harmonies. Not disappointing at all.
Inbetween times there was a chance to see Nick Kelly start his show with a plucky acapella stint. We also witnessed Guava from Galway, who massed up some startling rhythms and who were apparently fronted by Mrs Doyle from Craggy Island. Indeed. Cecil s Flea Circus disappointed some by dressing down for the night (goodbye space suits and dresses, hello Argyle golfing chic). Pilot Can, fresh over from Scotland, were rocking the ironic cowboy hat look. To catch all of this action, you had to be fairly promiscuous. A typical night started at the Empire on Botanic Avenue before dashing around the corner to the bar in Lavery s Gin Palace. Next stop was Morrisons, followed by Katy Daly s and the ajoining Limelight gig. Then it was time to start the circuit all over again.
One reason for this was to experience as many acts as possible, albeit for a few songs worth at a time. But we were also getting busy with a notebook and digital camera, collating stuff for our website (www.ohyeah.net). Six other journalists were covering the other venues in a more orderly fashion. By the end of the Wednesday and Thursday nights, we all ended up in the offices of CV3, who look after the belFEST website. On each occasion we staggered out at 3am, having posted up reviews, images and film clips of the acts.
Tiler were one of the best acts on the belFEST bill. A bunch of guys from the Cookstown/Dungannon area, they play slow-burning anthems, graced by the fierce warblings of singer Neal Hughes. In the space of a few months, they ve become an essential part of the musical community; positive and ever-visible, creative and hard-working. They ve even started looking like a real band, partly down to the fact that for their Katy Daly s gig, they turned up in identical black shirts, purchased in a job lot from the bargain store, Primark. A couple of days after their fine show, I ask guitarist Jimmy Devlin how it felt to be in the thick of it, playing on a bill of acts associated with the Schism label.
I thought it was brilliant, he recalls. The whole Schism night was great. I also thought Tracer were excellent, and then the next night I thought that Lima were really good. It was such a good atmosphere, running from Katy Daly s, into the Limelight and back again. There was a lot of beer drunk.
There s a lot more publicity off the back of belFEST than six local stand-alone gigs. You re on the CD, which is on sale at Virgin, and the radio stations are playing the tracks. Plus, you re on the posters around town. Now we re getting gigs at Queens University on the strength of the CD. It all adds up.

Ulster Says Mo!
So cheers, then, Mo Mowlam. The only rock and roll Secretary Of State for Northern Ireland, ever. One of the few politicians who could bring the young people here onto the agenda, without patronising anyone.
She could hang out with the Manic Street Preachers at Slane and she brought Elton John to Stormont. In any normal society, these things wouldn t be particulary remarkable, but then again, Northern Ireland politics isn t that kind of a loose-thinking area. Thus, she was judged as being frivolous for wanting to see Robbie Williams in concert. Would it have been the same outcry if she had been spotted on the golf course or on the rubgy stands when the political debate was particularly difficult? Of course not, but therein lies the hypocritical values of so many killjoys here.
So, while there were critics who accused her of lowering the tone of government, really all she was doing was taking the office beyond its previously stuffy expectations. It was interesting to listen to her last words, as she headed back to the comparative sanity of London. Sure, she said, she would have loved to have seen the successful implementation of the Assembly during her tenure. And she said she also would have liked to have tackled the issue of abortion in Northern Ireland, which still isn t truly in line with the 1967 Act that applies elsewhere in the UK. But significantly, Mo said she was also gutted that she hadn t been able to bring a skatepark to the place either.
We ll miss you, Mo. Peter Mandelson has a tough act to follow. While you didn t managed to overturn all the old obstacles, at least you rocked them plenty. n