Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside…or rather did like being beside the seaside before it (literally) became a pain in the head.
I live in Kemptown, a densely populated, Regency conservation area of Brighton, which, for the best part of a decade, has been saddled with a proliferation of extremely noisy outdoor events. Despite copious outrage and petitions from local residents, Brighton & Hove City Council (BHCC) has routinely turned a blind eye ear to the environmental onslaught and mental health concerns of a captive audience.
Since residents’ complaints have been serially dismissed on a singular basis – and it’s taken me eight years even to obtain contact details for the management of one of the events – last year a couple of us founded a lobbying group, now boasting well in excess of 800 members. However, this has simply made it easier for the Council’s licensing department to ignore protestors’ complaints on a collective basis, which, let’s face it, cuts down the work of ignoring us individually (BHCC’s not made of money, you know).
What are the noisy events?
‘On The Beach’ is a music festival taking place at the end of July, attracting major bands such as the Kaiser Chiefs, and an audience of 10,000 people a day. I’ve pointed out to BHCC that it’s called ‘On The Beach’, not ‘On This Bit of The Beach’, but have been informed only the Kemptown section of the roughly eight miles of waterfront Brighton enjoys is a suitable location.
The speakers are larger than a house (specifically, larger than the 42,400 households in this part of town), and operate at very high decibel levels for two consecutive ‘weekends’, which each comprise three days of gigs, plus one day of sound checks (supposedly from 10am, though this year they were keen and started at 9.30am), lasting until 10.30pm. I live a mile away, and when the wind’s blowing in the right (wrong) direction, it’s impossible even to watch an episode of the Brighton-based detective, Grace, on TV; a shame, since I’m strangely attracted to tales of murder around this time.
The Pride Village Party, connected to Brighton Pride, immediately follows On The Beach during the first weekend of August, and has a capacity for 40,000 attendees per day in the ‘exclusion zone’ – a tiny area of very narrow streets and the coast road, which is physically blocked off to traffic, including the emergency services. In fact, according to my calculations, this exclusion zone hosts around 38% of Glastonbury’s attendees in an area which is multiple times smaller. Plus it’s in a built-up area, no farmers, tractors or cows in sight.
Not only does the extremely loud techno ‘music’* blasting from giant speakers in the road last for six hours at a time – BANG BANG BANG BANG (my music degree comes in handy at last!) – but civil rights, such as the ability to enter your own home without undue interference, and the peaceful enjoyment of property, are casually suspended. Residents have to wear wristbands to access their homes, have their bags searched, and are prohibited from carrying perfectly legal items such as alcohol, bicycles, suitcases, backpacks larger than A4, and dogs (larger or smaller than A4), with these items confiscated if discovered.
In addition, people who reside in what has become more theme park than residential area are likely be charged (at least) £15 for a wristband for each guest, should they outrageously want to invite friends to their abodes for a dinner party that weekend (to which they won’t be able to bring a bottle of wine). As one resident said: “It’s not about criticising the cause. It’s about being charged to access your own property.”
The Village Party takes place on Saturday and Sunday, though local clubs take advantage and start a day earlier. Last year, I managed to get 12 hours sleep over four days – the ‘music’ (we’ve been through this before, pay attention) stops at 11pm, with street cleaning starting at 11.01pm and lasting until morning.
To make it clear, I’m not against Pride, and I’m a lifelong supporter of equality – as a political satirist, you might have noticed me on assorted platforms over the past 40 years making this very point. I merely object to being deprived of sleep for 11 days out of 18, paying a commercial business to entertain guests in my home, and watching my civil rights disappear into the bin so people can have a few parties.
What has the City Council done?
BHCC has made an attempt to shut us up accommodate us by instigating quarterly ‘engagement’ meetings, and – like the time I bartered for a vase priced at three Egyptian pounds in a bazaar in Cairo, managing in the end to push him up to 10 Egyptian pounds – this has resulted in On The Beach expanding to an extra day each weekend, and the Village Party finishing an hour later.
The most recent meeting, originally scheduled for October, was postponed until a week after BHCC had voted to sanction next year’s events in November, and my protestations were met with verbal hostility and abuse from interested parties, including a local councillor. I left early and somewhat shell-shocked, not least because this is an area of the country in which tolerance and respect are supposed to be a given.
At least, you’re thinking, BHCC makes a lot of money from these events. Well, it doesn’t. They collect a very small percentage of what must run into millions of pounds of profit by the private companies which run them. Which is actually one company, namely NW Live.
ABBA won the Eurovision Song Contest in Brighton in 1974 with Waterloo. I can’t help but feel as if Brighton and Hove City Council are intent on bringing about my Waterloo, along with tens of thousands of my distraught Kemptown neighbours.
*For want of a better word. I have a better word, but the editors won’t let me use it.
CLICK HERE TO DONATE TO OUR CROWDFUNDER
HELP US BECOME STRONGER SO THAT WE CAN CONTINUE TO DELIVER POWERFUL CITIZEN JOURNALISM!
