Brixton Come Together

As soon as you emerge bleary eyed from the claustrophobic gloom of the underground you are hit with the familiar sounds and smells that make Brixton truly unique. Sizzling jerk chicken and buttery popcorn infuse with the aroma of the incense that burns constantly outside Iceland. I always wonder if the smiling stallholder sells as much incense as he burns. The delightfully eclectic hustle and bustle of the high street never ceases and nor would I want it to. Whether it’s eager evangelists preaching to the masses, a scruffy man drumming some makeshift bins, fervent activists calling for action or steel drummers serenading shoppers there is always something to grab the attention.

Last weekend was no exception but this time the hullaballoo was emanating from St Matthews Church and the call was for Brixton to Come Together. And come together we did in celebration and support of the local community and the wealth of arts, music, food and culture this colourful borough has to offer. Merry making aside the serious issue raised by the festival was water waste and management, especially pertinent in light of the devastating drought currently being suffered in Northeast Brazil. There was food for thought scattered informatively round the site as well as food for the hungry belly on offer by local businesses, not to mention food for the soul. This came in the form of a great line-up of live music running midday to midnight all weekend and continuing into the wee hours at various after parties.

My weekend highlight was Prince Fatty Soundsystem’s set, dropping some delicious dub with the talented (but puzzlingly un-horselike) MC Horseman dominating the mic to ensure everyone was on their feet for a hangover skank on Saturday afternoon. For me this was the moment when Brixton really came together. Despite the distinct social and cultural groups that have come to inhabit Brixton over the decades tribes faded into insignificance as leather-clad punks loosened their knees, hemp-wearing hippies swung their dreads, middle-aged mothers moved their hips, dreadlocked rastas jiggled their beanies and art students in tie-dye got their groove on. Even the odd Claphamite sipping a gin and tonic could be seen swaying cautiously to the beat.

The enormous effort involved, joy shared and awareness made over the weekend was as great as any festival and Brixton pulled it off for free. The success was due in no small part to the organisers, artists and caterers, but to complete the package a large dose of community spirit, unbridled enthusiasm and a passion for what makes Brixton a place many love to live in was the secret recipe to make “Brixton Come Together” do exactly what it said on the tin.