This was my first Reading Festival, I'd been to festivals before and to
be honest, I was getting a bit jaded. I thought that nothing could top the
2 years that I had been to Glastonbury and I had a feeling that if I didn't
enjoy this festival, it would be my last.
This is how it went.
Wednesday/Thursday
We set off for Reading at about 11o'clock on Wednesday night, this
decision was made simply to avoid the motorway traffic and get a good
camping spot. The journey started off well enough, my friends, Kev,
Rob and Vic in the first car, myself and my brothers, Mark and Mathew
in my car. Another group of friends, Carl, Adam and Adam's girlfriend,
Hannah would be meeting us at Reading, even though they were
setting out at a later time.
However, after a short stop in South Mimms, we get split up by the
crappy traffic lights which seem to let one car through at a time.
However, we don't get too lost and as luck would have it, we arrive
about 5 minutes after my friends, who got lost at the same bit we did.
Anyway, after pausing to laugh at the person who got their 4x4
"Offroad" thing stuck in the mud we found out that they were letting
people go and camp. So we pick the least boggy bit in Green, tents up
and beers open at 6 in the morning. Carl, Adam and Hannah turn up
an hour later and quickly join us in our drinking.
Anyway, after starting so early, by midday we're all fucked. A couple of
hours sleep and we start again. We take a quick walk around, get
wrist-bands and then its back to the tents for more beer. As night falls
and more beer gets drank, we start playing drinking games. I can't
really remember much of the night, but we managed to piss off our
neighbours with our drunken shouting. It soon turns out that anything
and everything pissed them off. The night ends in an alcoholic daze.
Friday
I wake up, its pissing it down with rain and despite Vic telling me that
his tent is waterproof. Its leaking. We take our sleeping bags back to
the car to stop them getting wetter and go and buy a new tent.
Unfortunately, this tent has about enough room to swing a very small
cat and Vic has become very possessive about it. He starts telling me
that I can't go in there with muddy jeans, which I have decided to not to
change all weekend to see how dirty they get, I tell him to fuck off. By
this time, the rain has stopped and everyone is up and curing their
hangovers with more beer. Goldie Lookin Chain are the first band on
and everyone wants to see them, however, I'm the only one that gets
to see them due to the others being held up in the queue for the arena.
GLC are amazing, even in the pouring rain. It is at about half way
through "Half Man Half Machine" with their ridiculous posturing that I
realize that I'm having the time of my life and we simply have to come
back next year. Then I meet Rob and Mark in the comedy tent, have a
beer while I wait for Reel Big Fish. Reel Big Fish are simply amazing
by the way, the second time I've seen them and they keep getting
better, I even manage to find Mathew in the pit. Then there is no one I
want to see until The Wildhearts. Which I miss most of because Carl
and Adam have called me back to the campsite wanting to know
where I stashed the drugs. But what I saw of The Wildhearts was
amazing, even a power failure wasn't going to stop them. Then we
catch the end of The Distillers on the main stage, who still sound like a
bad Hole tribute band. Then Carl has the idea of doing magic
mushrooms. This at the time seemed like a good idea. So we buy
shrooms, chomp them down and then I remember that My Red Cell
are playing in the Carling tent, so I rush to see them. Just as the finish
their set. By this time, the mushrooms are kicking in and so is the
paranoia. So I hide in the comedy tent and watch the race horses go
around the roof of the tent. I wonder out to catch the Offspring and
bump into Vic, who no one has seen all day and watch the Offspring. It
may have been because I was fucked, but they were pretty dull so we
wander off and buy some really bad T shirts then its out of the arena
before The Darkness start playing. But they have great fireworks.
Anyway it turn out that I have some speed waiting for me back at the
camp. Oh dear, one day in and I'm already fucked up beyond all
recognition. We get the sleeping bags back from the car, get back to
the camp and find Mark who is considerably more fucked up than me,
having been drinking Cider and Aftershock all day. A few beers and
then I decide to go and see Dirty Sanchez and the Suicide girls,
however in a desperation attempt to buy more beer I take a walk
around and find that they are showing a film, Shaun Of The Dead in
the Dance tent, I decide to stay and watch that seeing as the floor is
nice and comfy and who wants to see naked women anyway? Damned
Drugs! Then its back to the camp and more beer before I try to get
some sleep.
Saturday
Surprisingly, I got about 3 hours sleep and I don't feel too bad. I decide
its because I'm still fucked. Time for more beer. There were no bands
that I was bothered about seeing, so I take the day to chill and recover.
Carl spends most of the day in his tent, too paranoid to actually leave
and spends the day listening to the football on his radio. Rob, Mark,
Mathew and me take a walk into town, have a look around there, go
back, drink beer and head into the arena. Met up with Kev at the
Concrete Jungle tent, stand around chatting, drinking beer and
listening to Allister play forgettable American pop punk. This random
girl throws her inflatable chair into the middle of our group, leaps on it,
says hi and runs off again. I spend most of the day in the comedy tent,
however the comedians seem to be telling the same jokes after a
while. I go back to the camp, drink beer and at the last moment, decide
that I really ought to go and see a band. So I decide to drag Mathew to
see Mondo Generator, who are really good. Then as I'm walking out of
the Carling tent, I accidentally hear The Whitestripes on the main
stage. I decide to watch for a while, seeing if they're as shit as I think
they are. They're worse and to top it off, Jack White starts talking, he
sounds like Michael Jackson. Oh dear. Mathew, Rob, Mark and Carl
find me and I start ranting on about how shit the Whitestripes are.
These people passing us give us their pints of beer, I start ranting
again and Mark manages to spill beer all down himself, which is the
funniest moment of the festival. Then we head back to the camp, drink
more beer and by now I'm feeling shitty and grumpy. Carl who wanted
to fight our neighbours because they had been complaining is now
sitting and drinking with them. So I sneak off, buy some food and
watch the random people walking around, such as King Arthur and his
Knights, wish I'd got a photo of that. Back to the camp, drink beer and
go to sleep.
Sunday
Its a late start, 10o'clock and it feels like someone has been kicking
me in the Kidneys. I figure that after the abuse I had given my body
over the past few days, it was begging for mercy. I was wrong.
Anyway there aren't any bands we want to see until mid afternoon so
we take another walk into town, have a beer and for some reason
spend ages sitting in the carpark behind Weatherspoons. We suddenly
realize that none of us had spent good money to sit in a car park. So
we went back and sat in a muddy field. At this point, none of us knew
that The Rasmus had wimped off and the times had changed. The first
we knew about it was when we heard The Dropkick Murpheys from the
campsite, so me and Mathew rush to get into the arena and catch the
Dropkick Murpheys as they ended their set. Now it was for a personal
highlight of the weekend, The Streets. I love The Streets, I think Mike
Skinner is one of the best things to happen to British music for a long
while. This is thing though, he sounds bored playing the "Original
Pirate Material" stuff, but the new material sounds great, he is
charming, witty and does everything he can to get the crowd on side. A
couple of moshpits breakout for his last 2 songs, one guy rushes
towards me, stops, looks at my t shirt and shakes my hand. Missed the
Lost Prophets due to buying a case of beer to drink back at the camp
and trying to find a Policeman for me to pose with a can of Carling in
his hand for a photo, they are having none of it. Got back into the
arena to see Placebo and meet up with everyone, Placebo are boring
so we sit around drinking and chatting. Then everyone goes back to
the campsite. I decide to stay and see if 50 Cent is going to play a full
set, if he does, I can go see the Von Bondies.
There has been a lot of debate whether 50 Cent should have been
bottled or not. I don't care, it was fucking funny and full respect to the
guy he gave it his all and he even had his G Unit throwing bottles back
into the crowd, they had obviously come expecting the worst. But in the
end, Fiddy is bottled, camping chaired and I've read somewhere that
someone even threw a firework at him, he stays onstage just long
enough to earn his money and goes.
Then its Greenday, the whole weekend has been building up to this
and they are the band of the festival, no mistake. My only regret is not
being closer to the front. They play "American Idiot" and a 2 hour set
that spans their entire career. There are covers used to fill time,
although it doesn't feel like it, the highlight of which was a cover of
Queens "We Are The Champions", with Billy Joe sticking a bit of tape
to his upper lip. They end with "Time Of Your Life(Good Riddance),
everyone in the arena singing and Billy Joe almost in tears. Its one of
those moments that sticks with you forever.
Then its a rush to the toilets...
Then its back to the camp, my friends seem to have got camping
chairs from somewhere, it seems that they simply picked them up on
their way out of the arena. Hmmmm...Anyway, its the last night and
everyone is getting drunk and having a laugh, but as people go to bed
a sombre mood settles on the camp. Until its just me and Rob left up, I
decide to go to bed, seeing as I have to drive in the morning. Just then,
a group of people turn up and they are trying to pull down the string of
flags that surrounds the campsites. They snap one end and start
tugging on the other, at which point Rob decides to lend a hand and
they all pull on the flags. Suddenly, the string snaps and the whole
group ends up on their arses. Its one of the funniest moments and it
lifts my spirits before I go to bed.
Then its Monday, festival over its time to go home. Its been a amazing
4 days with great bands, great company, a legendary amount of
alcohol drank and my faith in Festivals restored. We load all the stuff
into the cars and start our journey home. Although, I seem to have
forgotten how to drive and Scott Mills is doing a ten hour radio show.
Its going to be a long drive home.
See you all next time,
Paul.
