Reading Festival

A bit salute to you Reading. You kept me right on my toes with cat-like readiness, great music and wicked, beer fuelled abandon.

I favoured the days better. The nights were a little too crazy because NO ONE sleeps at the Reading Festval.
We were warned about camping in the Brown site but, like the guy who fed the mogwai after midnight, we forgot and we paid for it.

I'm not fan of camping but add thousands of screaming, pilled-up pyromanicas to the mix and any love for sleeping in a glorified bag is lost completely. Still, the lack of anything resembling sleep seems to have had a positive effect on me. As I watched the sheer choas of people trying to tip over police vans, small explosions and naked men waving their small dignities at passers by, I realised that life is hilarious and that I have been taking it way too seriously of late. Although I'm not about to tip over any trucks, throw gas canisters into open fires or walk around in the nude, I can at least take comfort in the fact that, well, I'm none of the above and that's a good thing surely.

Don't do drugs, kids.

Anyway, apart from camping in the middle of the 'Dawn of the Dead' remake, my weekend was filled with great bands and I saw as much as I could and because of this there are too many to list.

My personal highlights (Musical and otherwise) were:

FROG: With no bands on Thursday night, we decided to go to a local club which was offering discounts to weekend campers. It was brilliant fun and I danced until I couldn't dance anymore. Our tent neighbours (the cool, non-crazy ones) joined us and we enjoyed a ramshackle set of music that took in old nineties rave, MC Hammer and some nice, rarely played indie tracks amongst the standard.
We also saw members of a band called Larrikin Love (or something) but, despite being pointed in their direction, I didn't talk to them because I've never really heard of them and one of them, I think it was the drummer, was wearing this terrible jumper that looked like someone wrapped him in a hangover.

Peaches--Excellent stuff from the sex-obsessed nut box. Her inflatable penis broke half-way through her set. She managed to carry on regardless, true-pro that she is.
TV on the Radio--Borderline genius. They ruled the Carling stage and converted many new followers to their strange, brilliant sound.

Hope of the States--An awesome set, tainted by the fact that it was to be their last. I'm not sure why they're calling it a day but all roads are pointing to the end of HOTS. They were excellent, played a set filled dominated with their swish first album and made me a happy man...until they broke up. This rumour was later confirmed by Broken Social Scene.
Speaking of which, B.S.S were amazing. They are one of the reasons I went to the event and endured the campsite craziness. They were my favourite of the fest and they really woke me up after a hard morning.

Tapes N Tapes--Because of fatigue, I fell asleep in the middle of their set but woke up in time to catch the rest of it. I need to see them live soon to make amends and find and kick the ravers who camped next to us.

Giant Drag--Anne Hardy, I want to marry you.

The Raconteurs--I'm not big on the album but they fleshed it out with some meaty solos. It dipped a bit in the middle but it soon came back around. It made me nostalgic for the old White Stripes (First couple of records)days when Jack White used to sing instead of yelping.

Other honourable mentions: Fields, Duels, Eagles of Death Metal, Metric, The Cribs, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Flogging Molly, Send More Paramedics (Combined zombies and rock to queasy effect)
I can't remember much more. There were a few bands I sat through that I wasn't bothered about (Usually I endured them to get a good place for the next band)
All in all, it was a good time and, despite the non-sleep, I feel strangely refreshed and mildly unstoppable.