Live Review: End Of Days AKA Rapture, The World’s Biggest Eschatological Festival

By on 23 May 2011

With all of the recent hype about the world ending, Dominion sent our intrepid guest reporter Tony Coleby out to the End Of The Days Festival. As a one-off event we thought that it was too good to miss.

Standout Performances: Blondie – ‘Rapture’, AC/DC – ‘Highway to Hel’l – AC/DC, Led Zeppelin – ‘Stairway to Heaven’

BEFORE

A packed planet Earth is the scene for today’s well-publicised gathering. Billed as the “Event to end all events”, the hype for this has been unprecedented. We have a capacity crowd of over 144,000 but the numbers of those outside without tickets are said to be well over 6.7 billion. With only 6 portaloos, the phrase “go before you go” has never held such poignancy.

 

 

‘Not the Rapture’ © 2010 Tony Coleby/ Perfect Yellow

The line-up is legendary, with rock dinosaurs of biblical proportions reforming and returning to the public eye for the first time in over 2 millennia. But the highlight is surely set to be that the 4 horseman of the Apocalypse return with their original line-up after what seems like an eternity, promising a great show to end all shows. So long as they can prise Famine away from the hospitality buffet long enough.

The venue is divided into several themed areas with no expense spared on decoration. I cornered a busy God backstage briefly who promised me that the Roman Catholic stage will have the most amazing lighting and visual effects ever for a musical event, “It will be blinding!” said the bearded one, giving an enigmatic wink, “Those Lutherans haven’t even bought any pyrotechnics!”

Interest in the Rapture hasn’t just been limited to those of an orthodox spiritual inclination either, as many of the world’s goths and shoegazers have been paying attention to an event which promises to give them, after all, what it is they’ve been craving for most of their lives. It has in some quarters acted as a pivot for many musicians purveying the darker side of music. Reports that Wayne Hussey and Andrew Eldritch were set to reunite and settle their differences though are said to be hopeful but premature at best. Though one singer/ songwriter speaking to me under the condition of anonymity confirmed that the whole affair had caused him to become even more depressed than normal. “I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour,” he claims, “But heaven knows I’m miserable now,” he added before going on to explain again why he definitely isn’t a racist. Again.
Plans for the after party for this one are confused to say the least. Somehow I suspect that it’s going to be seriously gatecrashed. Bob Dylan, don’t knock, we won’t hear you.

AFTER

It’s hard to tell what did actually happen but one thing’s for sure, the world didn’t end. Despite early reports claiming to witness the Rapture over the Irish Sea which were later dismissed as, “Just a pretty sunset.” Which is I suppose, a nice alternative. God was unavailable for further comment, his out-of-office auto-reply claiming he was away on business until 25th December and in a case of emergency to email j.christ@heaven.net.
Speaking to the promoter, a rather sheepish-looking radio pastor Harold Camping, I learn how his hopes had been raised: “Ticket sales picked up amazingly after a slow start despite widespread scepticism that this festival would ever take place. An event like this takes a LOT of planning. Emails have been bouncing around between myself and the lesser deities for what seems like millennia now. All I could get out of them when pressed for a firm date is that But of that day and hour no one knows crap.” He is interrupted by a notification on his Blackberry. I glance over his shoulder in time to see the following: “21st May: Rapture 6PM. Bring clean underwear.” He clicks delete.

Score: 1 out of 5. A total let-down. If it hadn’t been a free festival, there’d have been a lot of angry people asking for their money back. But the costumes were nice and looking on the bright side, the devil still has all the best tunes.

Tony Coleby

Tony Coleby Perfect Yellow

About Miranda Yardley

I'm Miranda. Bite me.

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