visions of me running around chin-deep in mud wearing only flip flops for protection encircle the mind and
secondly, Carling Festival is perhaps one of the most defining end-of-summer events. Boo. Hoo. Boo hoo hoo.
As far as my summer plans are concerned, this is last in a long list of fun, summer-type things to do. Not to
worry, not to worry..my discarded coffee cup certainly sends out subliminal positive messages which we take in
good zest for the rest of the weekend.
Someone who shares strange thoughts about love, happiness and magazines with us all, is Mr Graham Coxon.
Standing comfortably on the main stage in the afternoon, he plays a great set (which remarkably sounds
exactly like Blur) and for some inexplicable reason keeps taking his glasses off, then puts them back on
again, then off again and then, no wait! Yep, they're back on again...It all ends up being one of the most
intriguing matters of the festival.
We then race over to Carling Stage to catch Swedish wonders, Mando Diao. Possessing the effortless style,
talent and grace that the Scands are renowned for, they band are one of the highlights of the festival and the
short flight from Stockholm was definitely worth it for them as they left with arm loads of fans joining in the
Mando cult.
sunny afternoon left me feeling like it was just the start to a long, hot summer. Perfect mood music that definitely suits the early evening
headline slot.
We then creep off to wake ourselves up a bit and the only way of doing this at a festival is by paying some random, northern strangers a few
quid for a damn, good mind-blowing trip. This may sound a bit controversial but we're all honest here at SSScene. We needed a pick-me up, a
quick fix and there's nothing wrong with spending your money on something that can give you that lift. Anyway, after 15 minutes of being on
Waltzer, I certainly regretted handing over my money in exchange for a pumping migraine and nauseous stomach. But that's the price we
risk-takers must make, eh?
So with heavy head, whiplash and vomit flickering away, we stay with the main stage to see exactly what all the hot fuss is about The Killers.
Ok, sure enough the songs are good singalong pop but the thousands wrapped into a frenzy by the performance are a bit hard to understand.
Brandon Flowers seems charming enough but their overall performance was nothing spell-binding nor memorable. I think I'm missing
something here..probably the Killers-liking part of my brain has been fried by the Waltzer..see, highs are bad for you. Or good for you if your
soul seeks something deeper and darker than The Killers (remind me to tell you about a kicking Danish band called The Raveonettes
sometime).
This soul-lacking can also be said of Ash guitarist-gone solo, Charlotte Hatherly. The girl can play guitar amazingly, has cool hair but her
vocals and songs were not very inspiring. The melodies seem to move in one direction while her guitar goes for a walk in the other direction
during which her voice fails to catch up. Credit to her for good use of the projector screens behind her (showing videos like 'Bastardo' and
random short films) and for bringing up the is he wearing them / isn't he wearing them bespectacled wonder, Graham Coxon on stage. Quite a
sweet moment which I would've gone insane over if it had been 10 years ago when the words 'Ash' and 'Blur' were scribbled on to my school
notebooks alongside 'essay on Passage to India due in 2nd period next monday.' Gosh, I was a little graffiti artist in the making...
the champions of new, girl-fronted music, Ladytron. Sounding stylish and looking like music
saviours, the icy stares, poses and blunt fringes surprisingly came off as unrehearsed and
effortlessly cool. With a psychadelic back-drop of curious shapes and curves and with an
astonishingly creative and cool drummer, I'm certainly a converted fan of this band.
Another band that put on much more than a lacklustre set, are Kasabian who we catch while on
our way to headliners, The Pixies. Playing to an overflowing NME Tent to hundreds of sweaty
adolescents, the band sound tight and loud. Unfortunately, the atmosphere is not as electric
when giants The Pixies take to the main stage. Surprisingly, anyone under 25 had p*ssed off
to see Kasabian and some of the over 25s p*ssed off home as it was getting to nearly
midnight on a saturday night...Gordon Bennett! Anyway, for those of us old enough to realise
the magic of this band and for those of us young enough to stay out till the wee small hours,
the set was wonderful. A chirpy, high-spirited band churn out a mighty set which is actually quite
easy if you have an extensive back catalogue like theirs. For me, to finally see/hear Kim Deal
was indescribable. The band end with 'Caribou' and then move away from their mics, put the
gee-tars down and have a mothers' meeting on stage. Black had already put on his coat and
glasses (another Coxon-like glasses teaser) and was ready to walk off stage. He waves to the
crowd before Deal grabs hold of him and pushes him towards the mic. Then they officially wrap
things up with a rapturous sounding, 'Gigantic.' They also share a Walton-esque moment with
us all as they wish each other, 'a goodnight, Frank,' ' a goodnight, Kim,' and 'a goodnight
Leeds,' in warm home style. Epic.
headlining performance
fans mad a few years ago: Charlotte Ash
and Graham Blur
deep voice (i.e. she sounds a bit like a bloke), Lewis definitely rocks out hard and seems to get the Hollywood 'let's mob her' treatment
wherever she went. Even backstage, when her meandering walk with the rest of the band turned into a paparazzi fiesta. She was loving
every minute of it, of course. Just like we loved every minute of Dogs on the Carling Stage. The usual 4.30pm sunday graveyard slot
became frenzied, buzzing and loud. Johnny Cooke's vocals sound even more threatening, sad and tragic than when we last heard him a
few months back. He carries the furious accompanying music spectacularly and is definitely a frontman to watch out for.
off proceedings with 'North Country Boy,' the set started off with so much promise but then achingly and slowly evolved into a vocal mess for Tim Burgess. The last time
I saw them live was at Reading Festival 1998 and although once a great band, their slot was unappealing. Tim's incompetency was shown up even more by Razorlight
who soak up the evening sun and love from the festival punters. Whatever the backlash, the boys put on a hell of a show and Johnny Borrell comes a definite first
place as vocalist of the festival with Johnny Dogs a respectable second. The cheesy one-liners are pretty harmless ("learn to play three chords, start a band and change
the music world" etc) and the gospel choir backing a little misplaced, but overall good entertainment.
blinder of a show. As far as growing bands go, they're certainly heading for monster status. Which is exactly the way I hope things go for the next
band we see, yes, The Raveonettes. Seeing them twice in a few days was an exciting prospect and it was good to see a packed Carling Stage
despite a headlining slot overlapping with Leons and Babyshambles. The prodigal guitarist Manoj was back after being greatly missed at their
London gig and sealed the energy and power sound of this remarkable 5 piece. It was a shame that their set was much shorter than Roskilde and
their cool 'RAVEON' set lights were not used but this had little impact on the thunderous, appreciative crowd. At their last 2 gigs, a confident and
relaxed Sune talked to the crowds and this was great to see.
absolutely no way of getting in through the front, we dive under the back entrance/behind the stage by dismantling a few tent pegs and almost our heads in the
process. Looking on to the daze of adoring fans facing me (well, I think they were actually all glowing for Doherty), for a moment I was quite envious of Doherty and
understood what that psycho filmmaker meant about his Jesus-like influence. The closest I get to glowing faces looking in my direction during the festival, is when I
accidentally stand next to 3 lads who have had a bit too much of the whammy-bammy stuff. Anyway, I then put my head into gear and start hunting round for
Doherty's bird to see what she is wearing but out of fear of getting busted, we calmly walk through his entourage and out of the tent to catch up with newly-signed band
Puggy (interview coming soon). We take some photos of the band sitting on a bin which has their album poster on and while I hide at the back trying to keep the bin
stable, a group of photographers surround us and start snapping. This sums up the attitude of the other media backstage; you can be absolutely anyone and they'll
start snapping photos just so they can tell their editors they were involved in something 'crazy.' It almost makes me want to say, "learn to write, pick up a pen and
change the media world..." I love harmless clichés...
are you on?" before grabbing a copy of the mag and shoving it down his top. My answer, "a short Waltzer stint and 4 glasses of red wine," was met with an even more
vacant look. Oh well, hardly the literature-inspired conversation I'd dreamt of but having met him, Patti Smith and Sune Wagner this year, I feel ready to kick my
bucket and cart-wheel up to heaven..But oh no, I speak to soon because Foo Fighters are yet to close festival proceedings. As cheery as ever the band burst through
'Learning To Fly,' 'For All The Cows,' as well as most of 'Your Honour.' The final songs are slightly marred by an annoying intoxicated heckler shouting, "get behind, the
drum kit, you idiot!" at Dave Grohl. I'm ashamed to confess...that was actually me...Anyway, after closing their Roskilde set with a terrific drum solo by Taylor Hawkins,
what on earth did they have up their crusty sleeves in Leeds? Well, well, it's the old let's-swap-instruments trick which they tested the night before at Reading. When I
saw Hawkins reaching for Grohl's guitar and Grohl getting comfy behind the drum kit, my joyous squeals of finally getting to see my drumming idol play the drums was
louder than Grohl's pounding times twelve. A glorious, glorious moment and one which I shall treasure along with the other little bundles of joy I've experienced
through SSScene. Thank you, Leeds!
SSScene he asks where he
can buy half a kilo of it
shirtless chest warm
Frank Black / Kim Deal
lookalike in ballgown dress sings
along to Pixies' 'Gigantic.'
Hummus and Nachos style
|
||||||||
unless otherwise stated
All Rights Reserved
