READING FESTIVAL 2008
Three hours of driving. A confused hour waiting for a boat to take
us ten minutes down the river. Then another hour queuing so we can be
tagged and allowed entrance if we are lucky enough to escape random
bag searches. Countless time spent dragging heavy bags around in search
of a square foot of space to make a home, ducking the cynical gaze of
burly security guards. Sleeping in mud, breathing in the stench of human
waste. The only thing missing is an orange boiler suit
I'm grateful, therefore, when I escape the stampede to finally gain
access to the arena on Friday lunch time and get what I came for - music!
Anti Flag begin as I want the festival to go on with them asking
us to make a fist and give a big 'fuck you' to the establishment which
seems somewhat ironic in hindsight. With their brand of US political
punk they provide a relentless half hour of crowd participation and
propaganda directed at the likes of Bush's 'bullshit war'. Despite the
fact that their words and warnings embody the festival spirit ('if someone
falls down pick them up') it seems a little lost amongst the masses
clapping along in unison.
Pic - Guy Eppel
Afterward I wander across to the half full Festival Republic
tent to experience Jubilee, a band consisting of some of LA's
finest rock exiles. It's difficult to know whether the expectant crowd
are here on the strength of who the band are or who they were associated
with (NIN/Queens of the Stone Age). Either way when they eventually
start they do not sound how I expect - big, bombastic guitars with thunderous
choruses - and even after the sound issues are resolved it feels like
there is nothing there. Throughout the set the band, through either
arrogance or intimidation, say little and what they do say is too quiet
to be heard. Jubilee distinctly sound like a band that knows what they
are doing but have no idea where they are heading or even if they want
to be here. When I arrived in the tent there had been some atmosphere
but that is soon lost, along with much of the audience.
The sense of excitement and anticipation is not lost though when I return
to the tent later to check out one of the most exciting prospects in
new rock music - Fighting With Wire. A simple 'hello' from lead
singer Cahir is greeted by a cacophony of noise which is then returned
in spades by a band with more energy than most of the others at this
year's festival put together. It is the first proper 'mosh pit' of the
weekend and FWW didn't have to do anything to whip up this frenzy other
than do what they do, which is provide good honest rock n roll. The
three boys from Derry are polite and gracious and also inject humour
into the proceedings; even crowd surfers and security guards are bonding
and having fun with one another. This is fresh, powerful and exciting
and I'm surrounded by faces beaming with the same smile as I have.
Next it's time to head over to the NME tent to see if there is any hope
in their Indie poster boys. The tent is heaving by the time I arrive
to watch MGMT and I spend most of the set trying to get within
visible range. Although no songs specifically stay with me, MGMT aren't
the wishy washy electro nonsense that I would expect and a chilled out
prog rock atmosphere draws in the evening nicely. I am then quickly
bundled forward as Vampire Weekend take to the stage. Their style of
melodic 21st century Beach Boys' esque pop has the entire crowd bouncing
and singing but I can't help thinking whether this is harmless fun or
a waste of time. If summery songs of love unite then is it as positive,
as equally valid as a band with something to say which is more direct?
I have no time to think about this before the issue is forced directly
on me by the emergence of Rage Against The Machine, possibly
the most anticipated band this weekend. We are made to wait but it is
worth it and this certainly is a band that unites through music and
through message. Arriving in Gauntanamo bay style prison suits and masks
the band blast straight into Bombtrack and the crowd are bouncing. For
half an hour they rock the whole of Reading with their direct brand
of political rap rock and Bush and Blair baiting (always guaranteed
to get a cheer) before the set becomes slightly more subdued with some
lesser known tracks. If they did at any point lose the crowd then Wake
Up does just what the song title suggests before the encore of Killing
in the Name has the entire crowd screaming in unison - 'fuck you I won't
do what you tell me'. This seems such an appropriate line to leave us
all with as the masses are herded out of the arena like cattle and then
crushed for twenty minutes as we are confined with nowhere to go for
seemingly no obvious reason.
Pic - Guy Eppel
Saturday starts quietly with a visit to the BBC Introducing
Stage to catch Kid iD whose blend of Latin folk rhythms have
the tent fuller than I have seen at any point over the weekend. They
provide the perfect summer beats to get us all dancing in the sun and
they don't really need to throw sweets into the audience to make friends
as their brief set has already created somewhat of a party. Much of
the rest of the day is spent queuing to overcome my fears and finally
shake hands with the Manics. In the three hour build up I still manage
to see from a distance the much overhyped Ting Tings, the indescribable
Seasick Steve and the non-descript Foals. Thankfully meeting
MSP is more exciting than the wait and it's pleasing to see that they
are all as amiable as I had hoped.
As the night begins to draw in I manage to catch a few songs from Bloc
Party on the main stage. Although I am a recent convert, my distance
from proceedings and the poor sound quality make it very hard to feel
involved and I soon move on to Alkaline Trio where, alas, it
is the same story. When I finally settle at the NME tent for the evening
to bed in for the Manics I am treated to a time warp back to eighties
hair rock as Bullet For My Valentine take to the stage. Although
it has most of the crowd banging their heads with pleasure I'm left
uncertain whether to laugh or cry. Thankfully that is all quickly forgotten
as MSP roar onto the stage with Faster. A brief trip into the past to
revisit Of Walking Abortion and perform Nirvana's Pennyroyal Tea for
the first time since Reading 1994 is a pleasant surprise in between
the usual greatest hits. However, whilst the band now sound full and
accomplished live, thanks to the addition of a keyboard player and very
Richey-esque rhythm guitarist, and their last album was somewhat of
a return to form, you can't help but feel when you watch them now that
that does not make up for everything else that has been stripped away
- rants from the Wire, giant screens full of images and words that burn
into your mind, a general sense of overwhelming emotion. That said it
is unlikely that any other band will grab you in the way that they do
in the six minutes of magnificence that is Motorcycle Emptiness or the
anthemic Design For Life that has every single person chanting in the
tent.
Pic - Pepperming Nightmare
It's Sunday and the bureaucratic bullshit and festival conditions are
starting to take their toll as I amble over to the Festival Republic
tent again but thankfully it proves to be my lucky stage this weekend.
Johnny Foreigner are one the most exciting bands I've heard in
years and I can't help but smile when their live performance lives up
to their recently released debut album. Their infectious three minute
pop songs about parties and youth, over layered with a multitude of
sonic sensations, have people of all ages and sizes bopping around manically.
Their initial appearance of arrogance thankfully turns out to be nervousness
and perfect humility as they receive every cheer and every word sang
back to them with genuine surprise and gratefulness.
I manage to catch a few minutes of The Music before I head over
to the main stage for Feeder, who have been rescheduled due to
Slipknot's untimely withdrawal. Feeder have been close to me ever since
Swim and I have always defended them against those who claim Grant Nicholas'
sentiments may be anything other than genuine yet, whilst I still believe
they manage to release great heart wrenching anthems, I am left feeling
a little empty after their performance. Maybe it is because I can remember
back to their intimate early days and I'm less than impressed to see
Grant's self-embellishment of his own rock god status on stage. Still
they manage to please the crowd with chart hits Buck Rogers and Just
a Day, even if their cover of Nirvana's Breed to close with is devoid
of its original passion and power.
Pic - Guy Eppel
I am uncertain about what to expect from Tenacious D but their
comedic rock n roll stage show spectacle provides some pleasant respite
and a great amount of humour before the monolithic onslaught of Metallica
which follows. Crashing open with For Whom The Bell Tolls they barrage
us with eight minute metal monster riffs which, after the first half
an hour, start to become a little tedious as they plunder old album
fillers. As they reach their climax Nothing Else Matters proves that
there is a gentle underbelly to be exposed even if it is only a brief
moment of exposure before the classic hits One and Enter Sandman draw
their set to a close. I escape before they encore with songs best suited
for their hardcore following and am left to escape with my thoughts
on a long journey home.
Reading 2008 has been confusing. Whilst I have found
a few rays of hope in an increasingly average and congested music scene
in the forms of new bands such as Johnny Foreigner and Fighting With
Wire and enjoyed the political incitation of Rage Against The Machine
and Anti Flag, I was also left to lament the passing of better days
from much loved bands and to wonder what the point of a festival like
this really is. Having experienced the multi cultural free spirit and
good nature of Womad, which used to share the same site, I fear Reading
is nothing more than a glorified Club 18-30 weekend that happens to
have some big named bands on its books. I'm not sure that the majority
of those who arrive through the gates and put up with the ever increasing
bureaucratical bullshit and inflating costs really understand the concept
of a festival or even care further than the next beer or then again
maybe it is just me that doesn't understand that the world is different
and the idea of a festival of unity, spirit, passion, power and ideas
may be something of the past.
Glitter Bitch
Pic - Guy Eppel
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