All images | Jonx
All words | Custard X
You might have heard stories about a bra who went to Bazique for 3 days with no tent, sleeping bag or kroon. Maybe you heard murmurs about a naai who passed out in the sun with no shirt on and ended up looking like a netball.
Hi there, I’m Custard X, local joy-bringer and mal-naai extraordinaire.
Grabouw Country Club was once again the venue for the eagerly anticipated, second instalment of Bazique.
What I smaak most about this event is how different it is. Attendees are able to exude individuality – It really is a unique experience; down to the environment, the art, and the Bazique sub-culture which is easily identifiable. You can be lumming, drinking a coffee and someone’s taanie will run past you in a gorilla costume – that typa shit.
I arrived around 9ish to the Kraal Stage on Friday evening with table tennis superstar, Cody Meyer and together we got to witness international tech wizards, Marvin and Guy. The CTEMF showcase certainly didn’t disappoint, as the two showed off their expertise by producing a scintillating display of the bounciest disco techno I’ve heard in a minute. Top set! Craig Placid also had one of the performances of the event for me. Man is a freak behind the ones and twos. Tbh, I was in my whole poes that entire first night. The music went off at 8 am and not because of load shedding. All around me were Western Province ravers – ouens literally have province colours in cutting shapes.
I eventually came to my senses after being brutally woken up by a group of flat-earthers who claimed that I had passed out, in the sun, while holding someones back tire (obviously fabricated, because why the poes would I pass out?). A rude awakening indeed, but one must push through. The only thing driving me was the realisation that I could smash the food court and get literally anything my little custard heart desired. All I had to do is rob someone. (I don’t condone theft)
Lemme just start off by saying the Ukudlala Beach Bar was where I lived. If you had to wys me to koppel my proof of address, it’d be 1 Ukudlala Beach, Bar road. We, as partygoers, were blessed with an explosive line-up of Super Saiyan beat makers and music sensations. A very impressive first look for me was Bloem. Although it was an early set, I really enjoyed her grooviness behind the decks. Siphe Tebeka, the other half of Stab Virus, has quickly become one of my favourite DJs, purely because he has never had a bad set. Ever. Man only knows how to drop filth. He played after Bloem and opened for Richard Marshall who went back to back with Bruno Morphet. 3 hours of non-stop heat that my little Bert ears had never heard before. That shit was unbelievably iconic, although, by that time, I was so inexplicably in my Nigel Pierce that I tried to light my lighter with my entjie. From that point on, it was psychedelic beats and fairies. The Into The Wild takeover had commenced and what followed was catastrophic – Emok, Geometric Flux and god of the dirty south, Headroom. For those of you who smaak dislocated shoulders, this one was for you. I wish I could describe through what little vocabulary I possess how poes jas that was. I still have sand in my ears. Every drop felt like a miniature Nagasaki (am I allowed to say that?) The majority of what little casualties there were from the weekend, resulted from those individual sets. I had a tear in my eye, because of the sand, and because some of you look very funny when you dance 🙂
I don’t remember going to sleep, but I do remember waking up on a beanbag that I borrowed from one of the chill areas.
“Bert, you have another full day of jolling.”
“Fuck that noise.” I wysed myself there is no ways I am physically capable of dala’ing another entire day of debauchery.
Deciding on the lags to guide me, I went to check my Canadian friend, Yaaseen Barnes who was holding it down at the comedy stage. He made some joke (boring AF) about people being drunk and dancing to the same song for 18 hours straight. You know, standard Yaaseen, then all of a sudden I come up around the back and shout, “YOU’RE GESUIP.” (Knowing full that well that he doesn’t drink)
That man stops his bit and says, “Oh, is that Custard? For those of you who don’t know, we call him Custard because he is a white guy who wants to be coloured.” cue laughter
Someone clearly didn’t read my bio. Anyways, I couldn’t stay there too long because the only thing drier than the Grabouw climate is Yaaseen Barnes.
I would like everyone to know that I was the softest and most fragile person at Bazique on Sunday. Yet, being on 12% battery, I managed to check Karoo. An up-and-coming artist who played that groovy beach bar tropics which personified the moment, perfectly. The crowd really ate every beat that echoed through those wooden speakers. Elleven ended off proceedings late afternoon to an emotional crowd that longed for more.
I was already on a bus back to the car park at that time. You must be jas if you think i’m lumming in Monday morning traffic on a Sunday evening. Especially on the wrong side of Sir Lowry’s pass.
I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend in the outback. I recommend the experience to you and anyone in your family who can RICA their own SIM card. I am writing this conclusion from a bottle store in Hanover Park. You’re probably wondering, “why the fuck does this man write conclusions?” Its weird, I know, also, I went to Grabouw and ended up in a smokkie in Hanover Park, owned by a guy I officially met at Bazique. That’s the power of the jol. A combination of peoples from all corners of the map. Coming togetherness and friendships made through commonalities. I guess you could say, we ended up Baziquing the same language.
Awe, I’m Custard X, thank you for reading my nommas. I’ll end off with an old saying by some naai, “find what you love and let it kill you.”
Good thing I hate everything, so you’ll continue to see me more and more in the future.
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