Around the Reading Festival in 800 words, part 3
Aug
30
Reading Festival 09, Sunday
Aug
28
Reading Festival 09, Friday
Around the Reading Festival in 800 words, part 1
Two trains, one tube, a drive. A walk, a boat, we arrive.
May
17
The Great Escape 09, Sunday
Brighton, Sussex
Remarkably, we all make it down to reception somewhere around check-out time. Admittedly we’re all wearing shades, drinking tea and coffee and there isn’t a great deal of lively debate – but we are all here. And some of us are even managing to Facebook each other across the table. I can’t decide it that’s a sign of the times just very lazy.
We leave our bags with the porter and head of to Food For Friends, where we all start the recovery process by filling up with some seriously tasty, vitamin packed, vegetarian food. Well, except for Mark, who says “there was absolutely nothing on that menu that I fancied and when I saw what you all had there was nothing that I would have wanted to eat at all”. A bit harsh I felt.
Conversation is stilted at first, but as the food and red wine goes down, the mood comes up. Dwayne leaves us for the airport then Cath and Loren depart to catch up with a friend in Hove. We open another bottle of wine. Doug departs for Bristol and Jonny and Tom make plans to head home. We open another bottle of wine and discuss our game plan for the rest of the day. There are some bands playing at The Oakford in Reading tonight so when someone suggests that we head for another pub I counter that we should pack up here and head off to the station. “When did you get so sensible?” says Zac, “You’ve changed”.
Tommy Tokyo & Starving For My Gravy, De Staat, The Gay Blades, Futurecop!
Brighton, Sussex
A drummer and guitarist appear on stage, look at the crowd and say “shush” repeatedly until there is silence (of a sort). There is an expectant pause. Guitarist turns to drummer and says “I think we need the rest of the band”. Drummer manages to drag them in from outside and so we have Tommy Tokyo & Starving For My Gravy. They play a mix of americana, folk, gospel, soul and psychedelia with fine vocals, immensely clever lyrics and a throw in a lot of fun. “This next song is Spinal Tap-ish”, they start playing, they stop playing. “Stop, stop, stop. We’ll do it again. This song is Spinal Tap-ish”. Highly entertaining.
Die! Die! Die!, The Veils
Brighton, Sussex
Even after a relatively early night I still get up too late for breakfast – although, in my defense, 8.00-10.00 is a bit of a small window in anybody’s book! So I grab a bite on the hoof, head to Horatios on the Pier and arrive at least half an hour before it opens. But the sun is out, the breeze tangy and the seagulls vocal, so I pull up a bit of pier and fit in some good quality people watching.
I’m particularly interested by the conversation between a mini flat bed truck driver and a man with a clipboard, discussing the schedule for getting the bands’ kit on and off the pier. There’s a piece of logistics that I’d have missed completely!
May
15
The Great Escape 09, Friday
In Arc
Brighton, Sussex
At half one Andy sends me a text to ask which band I’m watching and I have to confess that I’m really only just out of bed – ‘The Nev Effect’ is Andy’s response.
I make it out the hotel and drop a text to all of Team Escape to find their locations. Nick, Dwayne, Andy and Dave are at Horatios watching the Indian showcase. Cath, Loren and Doug are resting-up and recharging for tonight. Mark is AWOL, Nev is dead. Tom is trying on a suit, apparently. So I hook up with Zac, Jonny and Graham and we head off for breakfast/lunch and then to the wristband exchange to get the final upgrade for Graham – no more names on walls, what a relief!
Charlie Ash, The Last Republic
Brighton, Sussex
Looking at the schedule over the last couple of weeks I knew this TGE was going to be full of tough decisions and plenty of missed bands – I’ve got more clashes than all the titans and Joe Strummer put together! So I’m forced to abandon my ‘must see’ list and my ‘don’t see anyone you’ve seen before’ rule and decide to head anywhere that the others aren’t going. Some solo gigging time is what I need.
Team Escape 2009
Brighton, Sussex
It’s noon, and I’m at Brighton station where I hook up with Cath and we head straight to The Royal Albion Hotel to check everyone in ahead of their staggered arrival throughout the day. We fill out the 8 check-in cards but can’t actually check in because the computer is down. Doug arrives at the hotel so we leave our bags and head off to get wrist banded. It all gets a bit complicated as I have 14 ‘Artist Village upgrades’ on two bookings and there are only three of us here now. We end up leaving some names written up on a wall while I check to see how many tickets are left as Nick has managed to lose his (as did Dave a while back – but that’s a whole other story!). Although there’s plenty, I call Nick and suggest he finds an internet cafe to buy one online before getting on the train. He does so.
Jun
30
Boring by the Sea 08, Monday
Photo by www.grahamcustance.com
Weymouth, Dorset
On Monday morning I return to the Lazy Lizard to kill a bit of time writing while I wait for my train. I have a chat with the barman (sorry, I didn’t get your name) who’s hoping for a slow day today after working 30 hours over the weekend. About 300 tickets were sold for the festival with most people coming from the surrounding areas rather than Weymouth itself. As I discovered on Saturday, there was a distinct lack of publicity in the town with very few people seemed to know that it was happening at all. Still, that’s easily fixed next time. We discuss the merits of staging a festival on the same weekend as Glastonbury – more to do with band availability than attendance. Glastonbury take about 500 bands off the market, but that said, there were plenty here that had also been there.
When I ask if I can hijack some electricity for my laptop I’m immediately set up with an extension lead so that I don’t even have to change tables. That’s what I call service. So I spend the early afternoon sitting with a pint, with the sea breeze coming though the open windows, watching the waves and listening to Damien Rice. Bliss.
And so it is that I take my final leave of the Lazy Lizard and make my way to the station, reluctantly and with a heavy heart. Actually, that’s bollocks. The sun is shining, I’ve had three pints of Becks and it’s still only early afternoon – nothing is heavy any more. This really has been a great festival.