Stage Fright July 04, 2016 12:00

As everyone knows (it was reported in Resident Advisor, Fact, Pitchfork, Hottest Asian Babes and Sun Clubz), I'll be performing at Farm Festival on Friday 29 July. I'm hosting TONKA'S MASSIVE QUESTIONS; a pub quiz type pub quiz in the Ran$om Note Working Men's Club tent. Am I nervous? Of course I fucking am. I'm a writer, not a fucking presenter. The last time I appeared in public as Tonka I died on my arse. I was on a panel at the London Electronic Music Event in 2014, discussing the future of music journalism with a Guardian journalist, Terry Farley, the woman who does the European PR for Daft Punk, Dan Beaumont and a couple of other proper dance music people. I contributed this:

"I don't really listen to much new music. My favourite radio stations are Jazz FM and Smooth FM."

It was embarrassing for everyone there, except me. I was fucking hammered.

Farm Festival will be different though. It's going to be great. I had a visitation in my dreams last night from Scuba, Ricardo Villalobos and Dan Beaumont. They all burst through my bedroom window and floated over my bed. Ricky V almost broke the lightbulb, bless him. I said, "Lads, thanks for coming tonight. I'm a bit nervous about performing at Farm Festival on Friday 29 July 2016, tickets available here. Do you have any tips?"

The ghost of Scuba laughed heartily, coughed a bit, and then roared, "IMAGINE THEM ALL NAKED." I said, "Have you seen some of the punters who go to Farm Festival? It's in Somerset, not the fucking Seychelles. No thanks, mate." Ricky V floated down and got right in my face, eyes rolling all over the shop, and whispered, "Tonka, das ist ein be yourself unt einer can't un go wrong. ARE YOU STILL READING THIS? Just schlienen believe in ein self." I said, "Mate, I'm a fucking idiot. I can't be me." Dan Beaumont, always the voice of reason whether in human or ghost form, elbowed his fellow floating DJs out of the way and sat down on the side of the bed. He said, calmly, "Tonka, I've known you a few years now. Not properly, just to say hello at parties and stuff, but still, I think you're a great guy and a smashing writer. Nobody else could write to the level you do, day in and day out to a dwindling audience and still maintain their dignity. You've never had a fair crack of the whip because you've never toed the line, and that's why the couple of hundred or so people who do follow your work are devout. Your time will come and, if you stick at this for long enough, an RA Exchange will no doubt be in the offing at some point, but that's by the by. With regards to Farm Festival, all you need to do is write your pub quiz questions from the heart and deliver them on the night. It's that simple. It'll be alright on the night, mate. Really, you'll be fine." ARE YOU STILL READING THIS UTTER FUCKING BOLLOCKS? Dan patted me on the shoulder, kissed my forehead and I woke up with a start. Sweat everywhere.

I decided there and then and there that I would write about my dance music dream on the Hotflush daily blog as it contained references to Scuba.