Diary of an up and coming sociopath

Christ, what a weekend. Well, extended weekend. Broken up into convenient day-related chunks, it all went a lot like this:

Thursday

We left around midday. That is, me, Nikki and Al. The car was packed with all of our camping gear and the journey was relatively swift. Getting to Reading proved incredibly easy, especially due to the new proximity to the M4, where in previous years it’s meant an lengthy battle to get from the M40 to the M4. Unfortunately we were faced with a traffic queue which lasted as long as the rest of the journey once we got into Reading. I managed to cut off about an hour from it just by going up a sliproad off the A33, over a roundabout and then back down onto the A33, which put us about half a mile in front of where we were. After that we were at least moving instead of totally stationary. On the way down towards Richfield Avenue Al was pointing out how many girls there were wearing miniskirts and wellies (a la Kate Moss) and we saw a Goth guy wearing a T-Shirt that read “Total Fucking Darkness” being dropped off by his dad about 2 minutes away from the entrance, who handed him a carrier bag of food and his nicely tied-up sleeping bag to carry, before helping him get his rucksack on, checking he was okay and sending him off with a pat on the shoulder. Total Fucking Darkness indeed.

We parked up and headed off for the campsite. Trying to find out where Dan and Co. were camped left us wandering around a longer-than-necessary route and then before we reached them a short rainstorm soaked us completely. The heat soon dried us off and we had the tent pitched just in time for the next one, which was a full blown half hour thunderstorm of biblical proportions that really set the environmental parameters for the first day or two. From that point on the campsite was deep in mud, though I was able to navigate it pretty well even without wellies. We had a wander around, exchanged our tickets for wristbands and had jacket potatoes for dinner, then later went up to the petrol station and bought some reading material for the in-tent downtime, preparing for the eventuality that it might be a theme for the weekend. We bumped into graham on the way back, who was stewarding for Oxfam, but didn’t get to see him again because the mobile network was screwed all weekend and we couldn’t get in contact. When we got back I deployed my new sleeping bag, literally bought on wednesday for this occasion, and we ceated makeshift pillows as best was possible. Earlier before the mobiles went to shit we found out from a text that Si was in Brown Road 10, which is the same place we were, but it still took the best part of a weekend to meet up properly. He was actually camped about 5 feet away from where we discovered a severed sheeps head staring up at us from the ground on one walk back to find a quicker route back to the car. The night was incredibly cold, and I woke up several times throughout, though I wasn’t so affected by the heat as some had been, it was more about the unfamiliarity of trying to get to sleep on the fucking ground again after 3 solid years of indoor-comfort.

Friday

Woke up at around 9. Managed to stay in bed until around 11, and was glad to see that the tent hadn’t leaked horribly or anything. In fact, there didn’t seem to be much rain at all. Some rather foreboding clouds in the distance, but it was actually quite warm. Overcast, but warm. It didn’t take long to get into the arena and we started by having a lookat Bedouin Soundclash in the Dance tent, then thought better of it and went to see Do Me Bad Things. They were quite bad, really, the single (What’s Hideous) is alright, but the rest of their songs don’t sound remotely like that and they don’t even seem to pull that together very well live. Luckily, Goldie Lookin’ Chain were next. As Britain’s Most Ironic Rap Fan, I was glad to be seeing Britain’s most Ironic Rap Group, and they were fucking hilarious. I don’t believe anyone as chavvy as they present themselves could be as self-aware. They are collectively nothing less than Welsh Eminems. They did a few new songs, though to be fair I’ve only ever heard “Gun’s don’t kill people” before so it was mostly new to me, but I found them all really funny. I’d go and see them again at a festival, because they’re the kind of act that works as a novelty. After them we wandered off to have a look at Blood Brothers over on the NME stage, but they were really awful, so we went to the Comedy Stage and I watched Dead Leaves while Nikki read for a bit.

Once Dead Leaves was done, we saw some of the Dropkick Murphys who are a bit Flogging Molly-esque in their upbeat traditional celtic/gaelic folk meets rock way. It’s fair to say it’s not remotely my kind of music and I was pretty glad when they were done, especially because Graham Coxon was next. I’ve owned a Coxon T-Shirt since his second album came out due to EMI’s gratuity, but I’ve never actually seen him live. I’ve missed the opportunity once or twice, but this time I was actually available for it. Which was good, because I enjoyed it. Could’ve done with knowing a few more of the songs, but that’s my own fault really. I only knew a couple and being the undiscerning radio-listener that I am I enjoyed Freakin’ Out most. We stayed around after that for some of Elbow’s set, but I find them so terminally dull I’ve actually repressed the memory of why I even came to hold that opinion, and we cleared off after a few songs. Fightstar were next in the NME tent, so we headed up to join the road-crash mentality of it all. We met up with Al outside, who recommended the Shaken Udder milkshakes. Fightstar are just hideously unremarkable so once the novelty of seeing that dude from Busted getting booed had worn off we went back and watched the Coral on the main stage, then back to see The Cooper Temple Clause in the NME tent.

We’ve seen TCTC live once or twice and despite sounding pretty good on CD they’ve never done anything but leave us with feedback and distortion to listen to. Once again, this was the case, and clearly a lot of people were similarly underwhelmed because the crowd were deserting an already remarkably empty tent, even though no-one was starting elsewhere to suggest that they might be. We stayed longer than about half of the people there, but we eventually buggered off and had some food, and caught the second half of QOTSA who were far better. Nikki watched the Killers, but not wanting to miss Charlotte Hatherley on the Carling Stage I buggered off without getting to hear the only Killers song I really like (Mr. Brightside) and without Nikki, who wanted to hear whatever song they have that’s got the “I got soul” line in. As sod’s law would have it those were the only two songs played after I left, but oh well. Charlotte Hatherley was utterly awesome and played a bunch of songs off Grey Will Fade, as well as a cover of Kim Wilde’s “Kids in America” which was quite easily the non-Pixies highlight of the day. I had to leave early though, because the Pixies were there to provide the actual highlights of the day. She did announce that there’d be a special guest later on and I became paranoid at one point that, marriage and honeymoon be damned, it might be Lauren Laverne (since I didn’t see Hatherley play Bastardo and she’s in the video for it) but it turned out to be Graham Coxon, who I’m not so bothered about missing for the Pixies.

The Pixies that were fucking awesome as ever, as well. They played a surprisingly heavy on songs from their latter two albums which was quite cool, since I’d not heard a lot of those songs live. There was some amusing banter, including a dedication of “Broken Face” by Kim to a girl who broke her neck earlier in the day which left Frank Black slightly bemused (from memory: Kim: “We should dedicate this next song to that girl who broke her neck, right?” Frank: “er…I don’t know what to say. Hope to god she’s alright. I gave her my e-mail address.”) They played all the big favourites and the only one I really wanted them to include that they didin’t was Winterlong. Nikki’s bought me a soundboard recording of this for my Birthday, which is great, because I love versions of In Heaven with Kim on vocals, almost as much as I love having bootlegs of gigs I was at.

The sleeping came much easier tonight. I’d had some tea, which to my surprise DIDN’T contain UHT milk, and tasted really good, so that helped, and I put some socks on to prevent my main source of temperature-related problems, which was waking up, stretching my legs out and finding that the end of my sleeping bag was cold. Once in bed, I was out like a light for the next 10 hours or so.

Saturday

The weather was looking much warmer today. Friday had been warm but often overcast, and with some showers. To use the technical jargon. On Saturday the sun was actually out, but in many ways it was too late for suncream because friday’s deceptive weather had already burnt my face. I did keep applying the sunblock today anyway, but it was increasingly futile. We went to the record fair next door and had a browse, and picked p some free glow-in-the-dark “Make Zombies History” Land of the Dead wristbands. Finally, a cause I can get behind. I spent the whole of All American Rejects set waiting in line for the toilets, which of 6 in a cabin, 3 were working. And when I say “working” I mean “not overflowing with shit and vomit” like the others. Then I had to queue to leave because the AAR set finished and everyone decided it was so good they needed to use the toilets. Nikki, and I, wondered if I’d ever make it out. We stayed around the main stage for Biffy Clyro who I’ve never seen them live. I did have tickets for a gig in Oxford but then had a cold on the day so Tom went instead. They were pretty good, and the hair is just like, wild. I had us watch a bit of Roots Manuva because I was in the mood for a bit of hip hop and frankly, no-one else on the bill even comes close to it. As with Fightstar, the car-crash novelty value sent us to see Juliette and the Licks. I’d say stick to acting, but she sucks at that as well from what I’ve seen.

We then went to the Bacardi B-Bar to listen to Eddie Temple-Morris do a DJ set since I spent a lot of time dirivng down the M40 on a sunday night listening to his show, such that I even knew who people in the dance tent were this year. It was a pretty cool set, and the B-Bar had the added bonus of actual seating outside, though unfortunately without any shade. We watched the Charlatans - I can’t believe they’re still playing North Country Boy after this long - and then went to see Hot Hot Heat. I much prefer their new stuff to the old, though they did finish with “Bandages” which just reminded us of how Relly pointed out that it sounds like “panda jizz” in the chorus. Then it was the Arcade Fire, who I’ve been waiting to see live for what seems like half the year now. Nikki was watching from the side of the tent, so I went into the crowd to get to the front, and as you may have read they were fucking amazing. The entire thing was the closest thing I’ve had to a religious experience right from the word go. It was almost as powerful an experience as seeing the Pixies for the first time, in fact. I’m specifically talking about Wake Up, Power Out, and No Cars Go, but it was all great, and makes me all the more bitter that I can’t see them live again immediately. While I psychologically recovered from my inner-awakening we stayed about for the Babyshambles who played like utter shite and I’ll be frankly glad when Doherty’s corpse turns up in a ditch because everything I’ve seen about the man suggests he’s an arsehole of the highest order with zero redeeming qualities, his pathetic behaviour dominates the scene and I’d like nothing more than to try reading the music news without having to see what the latest hard drugs he’s been shoving up his heroin-filled rectum are. And his music’s not even that good. Not bad, but when the artist is so repulsive on every level it’s easy to hate the art. Just…don’t get me started. Though I suspect it’s too late for that.

The antidote to the Babyshambles unpleasantess arrived in the form of Foo. Fighters, that is. Dave Grohl’s gone a bit prog with some freeform interludes in the middle of songs but I enjoyed that, and it was an utterly hits laden set, and when he gives a short speech in the middle about how much he loves Reading it’s utterly impossible not to feel glad to be there watching them. Anyone who’d skip the Foos at Reading is missing out big time, and I suspect the Tears found this out the hard way because their NME stage slot opposite was (reportedly) impressively empty for such an act. I’ve seen Grohl & Friends about 4 times now and they just keep improving. At one point Taylor Hawkins and Dave Grohl swapped places and Taylor did lead vocals on a song while Dave drummed. It was all just great, it had crowd interaction, hits, rarities and improvisation. Everything you could want out of a live set and more.

Sunday

We packed up our stuff on Sunday morning and took it all to the car, and finally met up with Si on the way back who actually had camped about 50 metres from where we were. We exchanged Reading horror stories and opinions on the bands we’d seen, and then Nikki and I went off to get some food. The prevailing opinion from a lot of the people I’ve spoken to was that Sunday was an incredibly pointless day, and we found ourselves lacking anyone to see for the first hour or two ourselves, so we went and got some lunch at the Carvery next door. It was only a fiver! Fucking score. We then went and checked out the bootleg tees and I got myself a Doolitte album cover t-shirt, which is exactly what I’ve been after for like a year. The last one, as well.

We got back to the arena and watched the Manga film X, Hugh Lennon - a hypnotist mentioned in the Danny Wallace book “Yes Man” and then a little of Funeral for a Friend, before decamping to the NME stage and watching Sons and Daughters, Hal, Maximo Park and The Duke Spirit. I’m not a huge fan of the more recent british rock movements (more like bowel movements, am I rite?) that have sprung up so I wasn’t so big on maximo park, bit I really enjoyed Hal. The Duke Spirit cleared us out pretty fast though, and I would go so far as to say I consider them to be “terrible.” How you say, their music is bad like nail in foot? Si was watching elsewhere and I later discovered he watched exactly the same set of bands as us that morning and was also only moved when the Duke Spirit came out.

We had a final wander around the shops (I discovered Ben & Jerry’s “Completely Mintal” Ice Cream. WHY WAS I NOT INFORMED EARLIER?) We returned to the NME stage for British Sea Power, then went to see Marilyn Manson. I preferred his set last time we saw him at Reading, but he’s still putting on an incredibly watchable show. His set’s packed with covers, though, and it’s good that his theatrics are good because the singing sounds incredibly painful compared to how it used to. There are rumours that this is going to be his last UK appearance before retirement into other forms of art, and if true it’s probably not a move too soon. I did wonder at the time just what exactly, as a purveyor of “shock” his point was anymore. In a world with an increasingly visible black metal scene where scandanavian artists are literally killing and eating their bandmates, I’m not so sure Marilyn Manson’s particular brand of evil goth makeup is all that scary or challenging anymore. Good music, but he seems to have lost his relevance a bit. I reckon he’d do pretty well moving into films and stuff compared to where his music’s got left to go.

After all the aforementioned scary goth theatrics, we went and saw the Futureheads. Just for something to do, really, because I don’t like them much. We watched a bit and they were inoffensive, but they were one of many bands at Reading I was going to see if hearing the material live made it grow on me more than it did from the radio. After seeing them we went and got a Terry’s chocolate orange milkshake from the place Al recommended (the Shaken Udder) which might sound like an odd flavour, but when you understand it was achieved by sticking milk and a chocolate orange bar into a blender you can probably understand how it was quite drinkable. Actually sharing a milkshake with Nikki (one cup, two straws) made me feel like we were in 50s America. Then we went and watched Iron Maiden who made it feel like 70s America. I can’t fathom how a band like Iron Maiden keeps going, nor how people are supposed to know the songs they play. Who here actually owns an iron maiden album!? 30 years of heavy metal and I struggle to name 3 songs by them. Impressive technical ability but musically you must know by now that I’m way too cool to actually like it, even ironically.

With Iron Maiden viewed for posterity, we snuck out just before the end so that we could avoid the rush. We got back here and managed a shower each before bed. I slept for about 9 hours solid, and having rested I get to go to work tomorrow. Yay. At least I can buy the comics I missed last week. I look forward to Reading next year, should the bands warrant it. I wondered if I was maybe getting a bit past going to festivals but it’s been as great as ever. It usually works out as my year’s holiday, though I’ve got the tenerife deal soon. Though that’s technically work…