Reply With QuoteVery entertaining article.
However, I have to point out the main flaw: Tuborg is one of the flattest, tasteless lagers that has ever had the balls to grace this planet. Horrible stuff.
Leeds is a good festival, I really enjoy it. Unfortunately it's badly organised, lacks proper security and attracts a lot of people who you wouldn't generally want to associate with.
Leaving Glasgow at 10:20am we arrived in Leeds at about 2pm with less than 7 miles to go to the camp-site, and only 2 miles from the big Tesco that we always stop at for a spot of lunch - and to bid farewell to the luxury of a porcelain lavatory with a proper sink. That 2 mile journey took us a further 2 hours, and that was only because my trusty map showed me a cheeky short cut through a residential area. After lunch we pulled out onto the straight road that takes you to the car park, we finally got to a parking space at 10:25pm. Why? Because Leeds is full of junctions and roundabouts that get totally clogged up. Last year there were traffic police organising things and generally being pretty fair about how many cars from each direction got waved through. This year there was nobody at all, every car was going so slow that you could actually turn the engine off for 10 minutes at a time and then turn it back on to drive 20 yards. One guy walked past us as we were leaving Tesco, walked back the other way 2 hours later and then passed us once again before we were even near the turn off into Bramham Park. Slightly ironic that the roadside was littered with signs which read No Stopping. It was almost an answer to everyone's main question.
Are we there yet?
No, stopping.
When we finally got to the promised land known as the car park entrance we'd just started listening to a Radio 1 Evening Session special on the history of Creamfields, we heard the whole hour long show before we even got to the next steward. Yes, that organisation of the car parks is abysmal. The car park has 1 entrance and 1 exit. The best car park to end up in is the one nearest the exit, as it's also nearest to the main entrance of the campsite. But we were in a car park so far away that we were required to set our watches back an hour. We would have pretended that we were leaving and simply parked in the section nearest the exit, but that was an impossibility due to a rocket scientist deciding to send the camper vans down the road that leads to the exit. Yes, a single track one way system which Stephen Hawking had started filling with cars and vans from each end. It wasn't too bad for us, but it seemed to be pissing off the people who actually wanted to leave.
After hiking through the vast amount of mud for a mile with our gear we arrived at the place we usually camp - just behind a fairground, because it doesn't usually get any bother when the annual Sunday Night's Alright For Fighting (Robbing and Burning) riot starts. There is a group called Love Not Riots who try to combat the carnage but I think this year it was mainly a free badge distribution service with no message being spread, someone probably had to seek medical attention due to badge related injuries. So, after 13 hours we were at a space big enough to accommodate our average sized tent. We should have camped somewhere else as we had the wankiest bunch of 18 year old NME readers pitched on all sides of us - unfortunately they weren't about while we were putting the tent up. For some reason they resented us pitching there, despite the fact their communal meeting/drinking/talking shit/praising junkies area was in a gazebo on the other side of their largest tent. So, despite having 2 other doors, both to roomy areas, they decided to use the door pointing towards our tent so that they could stand on/fall onto/throw food at our tent. Within 24 hours we had 1 snapped tent pole, listened to one of them enlighten the others about how “Scottish people just leech money off our government”, 20 cigarettes mysteriously disappear from our tent entrance and we heard repeated cries of “What's that tent doing there anyway?”. If the site wasn't so busy then we'd have moved, that way I would have got a lot more sleep. Still, it was amusing to have 18 year olds bitching about “old people” being next to them when they were there to worship, and probably offer sexual favours to, people older than me. Unless Rage Against The Machine are secretly 20 year olds who all had incredibly hard paper rounds.
Friday morning finally arrived, extended travel making it feel more like Thursday afternoon. We eventually made it to the arena at 1:30pm, just in time to see Adam Green do one of the best shows of the weekend. Slightly annoying when a festival highlight is the very first thing you see, but a great way to start. His audience was a fair size for someone who hasn't really bothered the UK charts, and his showmanship gets better and better. He owns the stage when he's on it, throwing crazy shapes like the love child of Bobby Gillespie, Mick Jagger, Ozzy Osbourne and Monty Python. His banter is brilliant as well, he informed the crowd just how great Jack Daniel's is if you've twisted your ankle, (rightfully) called Nottingham a shithole and had a dig at the old sponsors by drinking some of his rider and cheekily saying "Tuborg? I was expecting a Carling". He played so long that the sound guy cut the PA, so he entertained the crowd by pretending to trash the stage while the band continued playing through backline only for another few minutes. Then it was off to the Alternative Stage for some comedy from Andrew Lawrence and then Brendan Burns, highlights of that being the 15 minutes of berating from Burns that one Scouse heckler kept offering himself up for and Lawrence demanding an ovation comparable to him pulling back the backdrop to reveal Maddie alive and well.
Hadouken! weren't anywhere near as entertaining, and that's not just because their sound was all over the place. The guitarist and bassist might as well have unplugged and joined the audience, or they could have joined us 10 minutes into their set when we wandered away to see if there was anyone else on who did more than appear to play the same song over and over and over and over and over and over again. There wasn't, so we went to the bar, met up with friends and then returned to the Alternative Stage where Robin Ince was impersonating Stewart Lee's speech patterns and mannerisms - minus any jokes that were actually funny.
The next band we went to see was Feeder. Well, when you're in a field with a group of people surrounded by bars you will find yourself occasionally watching bands that you're not that fussed about. This is the second time I've found myself in that field watching Feeder competently belting out a bunch of songs that generally cause me to lose interest and start scraping the mud off my boots. Besides, I wanted to be in a good spot for Tenacious D. Feeder's sound was perfectly clear, I could hear every single empty sentiment that Grant uttered. You could probably have heard him whisper, but Tenacious D's sound was a different matter altogether. No matter how “Look mum. I'm screaming really, really loud” Jack Black's face was, it just sounded quiet. There was a lot of banter going on, but it was all for nothing. Maybe the BBC3 footage will let me hear what they were saying to each other between songs.
Finally it was time for the headliners, Metallica. I love the early stuff but don't particularly care for any studio album they've released since the early 90's, so I wouldn't have guessed how much of the next 2 hours I would spend grinning, and even joining in with Hetfield's “hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey” chants. Last time I saw Metallica was in this exact same field, for their first bunch of gigs with Robert Trujillo, and that was good apart from the St. Anger stuff being utterly crap. Although they used to be guilty of some ropey gigs that isn't the case these days, they're much tighter, and I think that Trujillo's bass playing has a lot to do with that. Their whole set was basically them playing classics from their first 5 albums, 2 covers, 2 new tracks and Fuel from ReLoad. One of the new tracks, The Day That Never Comes, was being played live for the first time - It's better live than the recorded version. I only know this as Radio 1 had premièred it the night before while we were queuing for the car park. Metallica's set ran over by about 10 minutes, but seemed to fly past. They had the usual impressive pyrotechnics on stage, massive flame-throwers at the side, fireworks for the finale and perfect sound. As much as I find their later work to be a bit boring, I'm more than happy to watch them take command of a field full of people. They were the only headliner that I didn't see crowds of people wander off during. Maybe that's because they've realised the people who really want to hear Mama Said are much less likely to stand in a field at night than those of us who want to hear ...And Justice For All and Harvester Of Sorrow. Perhaps Metallica are finally finished with the experimental detour their career took after their biggest selling album, though a trip to the merch stall shows that they'll still sell some truly awful t-shirts.
Adam Greem and Metallica perfectly bookended the day for me, but by 11:30pm it's impossible to deny the fact that you've still got 2 more days of living in a muddy field with a load of arseholes who have no concept of respect. It's just as well the new festival beer, Tuborg, is fantastically tasty. If you can't beat 'em, drink until you've forgotten they're even there.
Very entertaining article.
However, I have to point out the main flaw: Tuborg is one of the flattest, tasteless lagers that has ever had the balls to grace this planet. Horrible stuff.
I have a photo of you watching Feeder. May have to put it up
I want to teach the world, but not a song.
I need to tell them where they're going wrong:
To trust to serendipity not fate:
To just believe your heart and conjugate.
I haven't tried Tuborg but I bet it's a damn sight better than Carling!
Originally Posted by Kenny Macca Doo
That’s its main appeal. “Shit but still better than Carling.”
The interval between birth and death is fractal. Any given moment is infinitely deep and rich, and therefore one lifetime is quite enough for me.
They should make it the tag line on all their advertising from now on.
“Weak enough to drink all day in a field!”
The interval between birth and death is fractal. Any given moment is infinitely deep and rich, and therefore one lifetime is quite enough for me.
I didn't realise it was American
I was in the unfortunate position of drinking Carling in the campsite and Tuborg in the arena
I think the only position more unfortunate than that would be the back seat of a Volkswagen.I was in the unfortunate position of drinking Carling in the campsite and Tuborg in the arena
Completely agree with the car park and organizing gripes, worst organised festival ever.
Recently Mr. T considered becoming Emo, he then realized the folly of this, as he would in fact have to pity himself.
www.myspace.com/cursivehearts
What you should have done, to really give the kids something to tell their mates about, was stagger back and piss in their tent.
You've also reminded me, rather eloquently, why I go to gigs rather than fesitvals
It ain't stalking it's just selective walking
Leeds is always full of total wankers.
I generally find the crowd at Reading to be a lot nicer. God bless those soft southern ponces.
I would have done something like that if there wasn't so damn many of them. I did almost do one thing, but that'll be in part II.
That reminds me, must write part II.
Thanks, wasn't sure how it would go down.
Last edited by pANDAS Radio; 29th August 2008 at 12:08am. Reason: Automerged Doublepost
For those talking about bad organisation, clearly none of you have gone to V in Chelmsford. It is diabolical and an absolute farce. Everything apart from the buses in and out from the train station is terrible, and you have to put up with the little Essex fashionistas on top of it who clearly take hours to get ready, full make up, designer clothes and high heels. Toilet queues are massive all day and you have to queue to get tokens for alcohol then queue in the next tent over to get said alcohol making the queues doubly long. The sound quality is also always poor, and the cost is comparitively about double that of Reading/Leeds.
Next year Latitude though - I have yet to hear a bad word said about Latitude (which is also run by Festival Republic).
I want to teach the world, but not a song.
I need to tell them where they're going wrong:
To trust to serendipity not fate:
To just believe your heart and conjugate.
Posting Permissions 
Bookmarks