Diary of an up and coming sociopath

First, my top five non-musical things that Reading will be remembered for:

1. HEAT. Dear god, the heat. Despite suggestions that the entire place would be flooded and we’d all be camping in pitches the size of a sheet of A4 paper, space was abundant, and water was mostly missing. Seb and I went to great lengths to get wellies for the occasion, and the one time I wore them I pulled my legs out to find them dripping with sweat. A couple of times I had to walk in the mud but it was largely due to the water points. Some parts of some campsites were waterlogged, that’s for sure, but it wasn’t the mudbath everyone feared it would be. And did I mention the heat? Sunburn on EVERYone. I haven’t been to a festival this hot since Reading 2000. I’d take this over rain any day, though.

2. Queueing. Queueing for boats, toilets, water, wristbands, milkshakes, to get into the site, out of the site… it was possibly the most organised it’s ever been, but I still feel like I dedicated a substantial amount of time to standing in one place waiting for the person in front of me to give up and leave.

3. Free Money! Nikki found a fiver in the mud. We cleaned it up good. Hardly a net profit for the weekend, but no-one can ever begrudge free cash.

4. The noise when his head hit the ground. On Friday afternoon, as Rachel, Nikki and I walked back to the tent after Interpol, we managed to run into a fight on the main thoroughfare of the Yellow campsite. In the excitement, some guy got punched to the ground and his head hit the floor with the sickening thud only bone makes. It was fucking cool.

5. Nu-Rave. It’s here, and that meant that about 1 in 3 people had UV body paint scrawled inexpertly on their faces. Between that and the Kate Moss wellies, miniskirts & short shorts festivals-as-fashion-accessory contingent (mantra: “What band is this? Fall Out Who?”) it seems a long way from the first Reading I went to when Nu-Metal was in full swing and I felt slightly out of place because I wasn’t wearing a black T-Shirt and a leather coat.

But, of course, festivals are always about the music. Which invariably follows the Journey.

Thursday.

Our stuff readied the previous night, we packed the car and picked up Rachel, before heading off down the beloved M4. Utterly no trouble on the way, and even inside the Reading Ring Road where I’ve spent many an hour baking slowly in the car while the traffic doesn’t move was mercifully quick. Perhaps it was because we were a little earlier than other years. Perhaps it was because they’ve finally figured it out. Either way, it wasn’t half as bad as it could’ve been, and we found our way to the car park using the helpful signage, even if they did identify at least 2 car parks which we believed to be non-existant.

From the car, we wellied-up, still in the naive belief this was a fine idea, and stapped ourselves up like three pack mules. We trekked the length of the car park, past the white campsite, to the boat queue. As we waited, the weather was dull but getting warmer. By the time we’d gotten over the river and resumed things, the heat and sheer physical exertion was making sweat pour off me, and once Daniel got us into the correct field, Nikki stayed with a bunch of our stuff and I went to find the tents so that we could get it there without having to do extra walking. We were in the newly-created Orange camp, which was formerly the Orange Car Park, and I recognised it from having parked there in previous years.

Once the tents were all up, Rachel, Daniel, Nikki and I went off-site so that they could get some beer. On the way, we passed through the Red Site, which I understand is new for 2007, and bore witness to the most picturesque and peaceful vision of Reading festival I’ve ever seen. Located on a riverbank and adjacent to the Green Campsite and Richfield Avenue, Red may well be the most brilliant campsite ever invented. Of course, because of this I expect it’ll be totally ravaged next year.

We got our wristbands, and on our way back we got some firewood, which later turned out to be too wet for purpose. We succeeded in creating a lot of smoke, but not much fire. After meeting Rachel’s sister, we went for some food down by the main arena after finding the nearer food stalls lacking. I, of course, opted for the Hog Roast pork rolls, which is the one time of the year I can put up with it. Because a pig is a filthy animal. Back at the campsite we listened to some MP3 CDs on Seb and Rachel’s newly purchased £20 stereo, which later broke. I slept intermittently, though fairly comfortably.

Friday.

Seb turned up in the morning, and after braving the campsite toilets (This year’s rating on the heave-ometer: 8.5) Nikki and I had to go and exchange my wristband, which had fallen off purely due to the inexpert ability of the person who put it on, and had endure the most slow moving queue of them all. Luckily, I did still have my wristband, so when we got to the end it was a simple matter of matching the number on it with their records of who handed it out and when. Not too horrendous. We met Seb, and entered the arena as it opened.

First on stage were the The Pipettes, who we are all fairly fond of. It has to be said, though, they’re far better on CD. Despite their obvious inability to live up to expectations in their live shows, they were still pretty good, though it’s somewhat amusing that the most summery band on at the festival played in literally the worst weather of the weekend, for it was warm, if overcast on Friday morning.

Following this, we caught part of Little Man Tate who failed to impress one way or the other, though I’m fairly sure they were rubbish.

We got some food and went to the NME/Radio 1 stage (which I still call the Evening Session stage, because I’m that old skool/confused) and took in a little Sparta. Overwhelming urge to shout “THIS IS SPARTA.” was thankfully repressed, and the former ATD-I crew played a great set while Nikki dripped sweetcorn butter down herself.

We met up with Seb and Rachel for Gogol Bordello who strike me as uncomfortably close to a novelty act. Okay, they’re not exactly Goldie Lookin’ Chain, but I find it hard to believe eastern european folk-infused rock so different from the mainstrean can draw so much genuine appreciation, but then I think the same thing about, say, Flogging Molly. They were pretty good fun, though, and I enjoyed the show even if it’s not going to make a convert out of me.

Following that we were treated to the spectacle of The Gossip. Not that you’d need spectacles to see Beth Ditto HAHA! I am funny! To be fair, as Seb and I delighted in pointing out as Nikki and Rachel chastised our many, many wisecracks, she’s the one who made an issue of it, not us. The jiggling was hypnotic. The music, however, was not. Which reminds me, because that horrible Standing in the Way of Control song was on the advert: We were camped not 15 feet away from Nicholas “Skins & About a Boy” Holt. First, last, and only genuine Celebrity Spot of Reading 2007. At one point nearby campers shouted “Skins is shit!” at him until he left.

After that was Jimmy Eat World. Again, not the kind of music I’m usually into but it makes decent festival listening because it’s fairly bouncy and I know the songs. They later played a second set on the Lock Up stage to make up for cancelling a couple of years ago, which displays a fantastic work ethic. Definitely good watching.

It was mainly because of Daniel that I watched Maximo Park because, like no-one else I know, he has the kind of taste in music that’s hard to ignore. If he says it’s good, it probably is, much like if Seb or I say a comic is good we know what we’re talking about. I think, if nothing else, XFM have ruined any chance of me liking them because all I heard was “that fucking song off the radio again.” It filled the time adequately, though I do like Apply Some Pressure.

Interpol were the first band of the weekened that I was really, really looking forward to. As in, “part of the reason I bought the ticket” looking forward to. They delivered in spades and played a lot of stuff off Antics, which pleases everyone. Rachel didn’t seem too impressed with the latter half of the set, but I definitely loved every minute. Evil was probably one of my top 5 favourite songs of the weekend.

Seb had decamped back to the tent earlier to sleep during a gap in which there were no bands he wanted to see, so Nikki, Rach and I went back to get him. We couldn’t help but notice how the place was full of mosquitoes, so we tried to smoke them out with a fire which worked to an extent, but luckily that was the only time of the weekend it became an issue. We spoke to some friendly campsite attendents who were telling us what a complete doss it was, and were collectively agreed that Razorlight headlining was a fairly terrible crime against humanity.

Seb, Nikki and I went back to the arena to cap the day off with Ash on the NME stage. Ash might not be setting the world on fire with innovative and original rock music, but you can’t deny they put on a fucking fantastic show. I was still aching from the carrying and walking of the previous day, but I couldn’t let it pass without some moshing, so when Orpheus started, I ran my way to the front and had a good go at it, then they followed it up with Life Less Ordinary - I figured there was no way to top seeing my two favourite Ash songs played in succession, so I left the pit and went back to Nikki after that. Seb went back to the tent and after Ash finished their set (ending with Jack Names the Planets) Nikki and I got some tea from the campsite cafe, which was scalding hot and VERY PAINFUL when I spilt some of it on me.

Saturday.

Saturday night I woke up utterly freezing at least once, but slept generally better than the previous day. Not that this left me in any less pain. We started the day watching Eisley in the Carling tent, who Nikki likes but I’d never seen or heard of before. They were pretty good. Nikki expected them to be a bit twee for me, but perhaps that’s toned down live. I’ll certainly give them a look in the future, though.

After this, we walked up Richfield Avenue and towards Reading in search of bootleg T-shirts, but alas there were none worth buying this year. I wasn’t expecting a find as good as my Doolittle Tee a few years ago, but it would’ve been nice to get something. Luckily my T-Shirt from threadless arrived while I was at the festival, so I did still get a new one this weekend.

We got back and headed over to the comedy tent and listened to Ed Byrne. By this point of the weekend, the sun was about as horrible as it was ever getting, and rather than stand by the tent in the sun, we found some shade behind a food truck and listened through the canvas. I had downed half a litre of traditional festival drink, the Shaken Udder Chocolate Orange milkshake beforehand in an attempt to cool down, and was feeling slightly queasy, so we stayed fairly stationary throughout.

Rachel and Seb texted us to let us know where they were, so we went and found them (and Daniel), and watched The Shins from the shade at the side of the main stage’s sound desk. I was impressed by their set, even though I had partially gone to appease my brother, who probably wouldn’t have forgiven me had I voluntarily missed them. Much like when we saw the eels a few years back, they’re seemed a band that work very well in the sun, though that may saw more about me than them.

We then headed off to see Young Knives in the NME stage. We saw them last year at V2006, though to be honest they were much better then and even at the time, they were blown away by Captain who were on after and turned out to be fair, far better. Despite my opinions, Seb and Rachel loved the show, as I understand it, but I felt like they were a bit rubbish and we may have even left prematurely. Or did we stay for a couple of songs from The Pigeon Detectives? I forget.

Nikki went off the see Panic! At the Disco on the main stage while I made my way to the Carling tent for the fantastic Tokyo Police Club who were amazingly excellent. One of the best sets of the weekend, for me, and while I did want to see Panic! I definitely think I made the right choice to skip them. It’s hard to pick a best song, but Cheer it On and Nature of the Experiment and Citizens of Tomorrow were all fucking great, and they really packed the set full, playing something like 12 songs. At one point I saw someone get yanked out from the side of the mosh pit, his eyes were open but his body was limp. I strongly suspect he was dead, killed by the pure energy of TPC.

Afterwards I met up with Nikki again and we got some food at the side of the stage and watched Bloc Party. I don’t really like them, but they were at least familiar which occasionally improves things. Though… not really this time.

Afterwards, we got to witness what was, hands down, my favourite set of the festival, when Arcade Fire took the stage. It’s 2 years since I first saw them live at Reading ‘05, and they’ve lost nothing. The Arcade Fire have, as a band, not yet let me down in any capacity, and their performance, which coincided with sunset, was nothing short of magical, and I’m finding it very hard to think of a festival set that betters that.

And, because nothing could top that, we went back to the tent to avoid Red Hot Chili Peppers. NME later described their set as containing “extended improv funk jams” and not in a good way. We saw them at V once and they just played actual songs, so all in all, I think we did well to avoid them. I mean, they’ve long since stopped being acceptable in any way. We were unable to miss hearing them from the tent including an utterly tedious 10-minute verison of By The Way, though their sound system fucked up so we were bemused when they went mostly silent for about 90 minutes in the middle of their set. It seems it’s been nothing but universal disappointment from all who saw them. While we were sitting around our fire as this was going on, some guy who had jumped the wall with his mates attempted to hide from security with us, though the general consensus was that if security had turned up we’d have just shopped them in, because, well, we’re bastards. Sleep was mostly uninterrupted, except for the point where a drunk guy stood on our tent and then tried to get in thinking it belonged to him or his friend, so we had to correct him and send him on his way.

Sunday.

Nikki and I packed up, for we tend to leave Reading early so that we can get an extra day to recover, and avoid the carnage that invariably follows on the final night. We carried out stuff back to the car in sweltering heat, and I suspect this is the point at which I received the majority of my sunburn. We missed Simon Amstell in the comedy tent as a result, but to be honest, we saw him do the same material a few weeks previously in a venue that holds less than 60 people anyway, so it’s not like we missed out. We walked from the White Car Park to Richfield Avenue (which is a fair fucking hike) and want to the toby carvery, who were doing their £5 festival special, and we shared one meal (take that, concept of self-service!) and each had a pint of water and a pint of soft drink.

Back in the arena, we camped out in some shade and watched Funeral For A Friend and Fall Out Boy on the main stage. I’m not overly fond of either, but it was very relaxing to lie back and take in their music, and I found I knew more than I thought. We’d put the umbrella up at this point to try and shield ourselves from the sun, which was partially effective, and we met Seb and Rachel at the same time.

After those sets were done, Nikki and I tried to get in some Jamie T, to little avail. You couldn’t hear him outside the tent and it was too packed inside, so we gave in and went to see Charlotte Hatherley. She was, unfortunately (because I like her) fucking dire. Easily the most disappointing act I saw of the weekend, I’ve got no idea what was going on but christ, it was horrible. The first time I saw her, two years ago, she was great. The next time, at Islington Academy, it was mediocre, and this time was just plain bad. I’m not sure I’ll be able to bring myself to pay to see her again.

Overlapping with Hatherley were the Lostprophets. Their songs were occasionally more entertaining than hers, which is saying something.

After this, we watched Nine Inch Nails. Now, I’m not a big NIN fan, but having seen them I’m now ready to say that Trent Reznor is clearly a fucking god. Quite possibly the only show of the weekend that rivalled Arcade Fire, it was excellent in new and exciting ways. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how good it was. I can barely name any of the songs, but my favourite part was somewhere in the second half where he played a song that was mainly bitcrunching and electronic white noise, and the whole thing was utterly immense. NIN get the most unexpectedly brilliant set of the festival award.

Lastly, I finally got to live out one of my teenage obsessions and see Smashing Pumpkins live. I started getting into Pumpkins just as Billy Corgan was getting out of them, so I’m not No. 1 Fan or anything, but they were another of the reasons I bought a ticket. Corgan showed himself to have a remarkable sense of humour, despite the boos he received when he mentioned Zeitgeist, and the inability of the crowd to sing along to Bullet with Butterfly Wings. That didn’t stop him packing the songs with more unnecessary noodling than a Mars Volta gig, and claiming to be delivering a fresh miracle unto us mortals. It was totally fucking genius. Equal parts hilarious and profound. Not sure I’d go and see them live, but as a festival closer they were inspired.

Following all that, we headed back to the car and despite sitting on a boat for 20 minutes waiting for a free spot on the other bank, made it home in fairly good time. Shower, sleep, and now my yearly ponder about whether to buy next year’s pre-sale tickets to guarantee a place if I want it…

A few things I wanted to get ON MY INTERNET before bed:

Today, I celebrate 5 weeks of Crudely Drawn Naked People. I show no signs of fatigue! I desperately need Incredible Change Bots to come out, though. I just reviewed Aeiou, the last book in Jeffrey Brown’s most popular body of work, the ‘Girlfriend Trilogy,’ so why not go any read them in reverse chronological order and tell me how little sense they make!

Today we (Me, Nikki, Nikki’s friend Kaitlin/Caitlyn/some variation on that, and her boyfriend Alex) went to the Innocent Village Fate. Er, I mean, Fete. It was replacing their free festival from recent years, following the horrible spectacle of last year’s utterly rammed Fruitstock. After the floods and rain that have typified the last 2 months, I am ambivalent to report that the weather has turned to incredible heat. Luckily we weren’t moving around much, and had plenty of suncream to hand. Should be a good dry-run for Reading, anyway - Festivals are the one time I’m pleased when it’s too hot, so if it stays this way, I won’t complain.

I downloaded the new David Ford album, Songs for the Road. It’s excellent. I may add it to my mounting pile of Promised NTS work, but for now let me tell you that you should all get it, and get it from 7Digital where it’s DRM free.

Lastly, to reward your perseverance. Today on TMF, the universe’s most high-quality music channel, one of the simpering morons that presents it (ie, does the voiceovers) claimed about a film the were reviewing: “I had no expectations when I went in, and expected it to fall flat.”

…WHAT?! Do they even listen to themselves when they talk? This wasn’t live or anything, this was actually RECORDED and BROADCAST. God help me, I can’t even say for certain it wasn’t scripted. Kill me.

So, when I’m not moving my blog, I’m doing stuff! On Saturday, I saw Transformers. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hate it as much as I wanted, which isn’t to say there aren’t plenty of ridiculous things in it, it was just as entertaining as it was stupid. It was still Optimus Prime, even if it was a weird version of him. I can’t be mad about that. I may or may not get a review up on NTS at some point this year.

Last night Nikki and I attended our first Ford gig since…the last one. Which was almost 8 months ago. This one was at the Soho Bar Revue, which is the universe’s most gig-friendly strip club. Because of this, it was expensive as hell, so I was double glad for not drinking alcohol. Despite a couple of technical glitches, the gig was great, and have re-stoked my interest in the new album. The entire Ford scene was out in force, which was understandable for the first headlining gig in that long a time. Reminds me of the old easyworld days, though not in quite as bad a way as it could. After the gig, there was a transvestive club in the same venue. On the way back from to the tube station, we passed the theatre showing the Mary Poppins stage show, and two old women stood in the entrance looking utterly horrified at the debauchery on display before the in the streets of Soho. Utter comedy.

Today I took time out from my horrible schedule of doing 2 people’s work to visit a tech talk (which I usually avoid) by Aral Balkan, who in an entirely unrelated circumstance, Nikki recently met, through Paul and Relly. His talk on SWX was incredibly convincing so I’ll probably give it a shot at some point. I’m still feeling proud that I managed to hack together the correct .htaccess rules so that my permalinks weren’t horribly broken now I’ve moved the blog up a directory, thus proving I’ve mastered what was, a few weeks ago, an almost entirely unexplored facet of web technology for me. Maybe now’s the time to have a stab at something new.