Reading Festival –
Saturday
“I’ve just been ID’d by a boy whose face was covered in glitter. . .”
How young is young? I’m twenty four, which is only old to
young people, and as I’m not young I don’t think it’s old. “Old enough to know
better, young enough not to care,” as the slogan on my old Fido Dido pyjamas
read. Admittedly, I haven’t worn those pyjamas in at least ten days, but the
sentiment is still fresh.
I consider myself to be too young to do certain things, such
as complain about young people or grow facial hair, and too old to do others,
for instance, get ID’d at a music festival full of sixteen-eighteen year olds.
How wrong I was.
By Sunday, I was condemning the nation’s youth and for the
first time in a long time (honestly) I was ID’d. I even had a couple of hairs
poking out of my chin.
-------
Saturday was an
especially straightforward day to plan and describe. While the five minor
stages had plenty of good bands playing we decided to base ourselves at the
Main Stage for the entire day, considering that we were pretty hungover and lazy
and the line-up wasn’t too shabby.
That line-up began in
style with The Joy Formidable who
Sandro and I saw for the fourth time this year. Even a restraining order
couldn’t keep us away and this time we saw them joined by a life-sized model
goat on stage, which was nice. A band I’d almost completely forgotten followed
them. The Pigeon Detectives aren’t
the most interesting or experimental band but they had enough crowd-pleasing
tunes to justify their place on the bill, ‘Romantic
Type’ my personal pick.
An entirely different
proposition followed them, in the form of bluesman Seasick Steve, who was joined by Led Zeppelin legend John Paul Jones. Steve showed that he is the
romantic type as he chose a lady from the crowd and serenaded her with a love
song on stage.
Sal and I then had a
chance to catch up with Two Door Cinema
Club, having missed their finale two months ago. ‘I Can Talk’ and others were every bit as enjoyable as expected and
it would have been crazy of us not to stick around for Madness who inspired huge cheers when they began with ‘One Step Beyond’. We wandered off for
food while they played some of their lesser known stuff but returned in time
for ‘House of Fun’, ‘Baggy Trousers’,
‘Our House’, ‘It Must Be Love’ and ‘Madness’
which they played in a pretty impressive row.
-------
Sandro resisted the urge to head to the Alternative Stage to
murder Lee Nelson, and we moved a little closer to the Main Stage for the
supposed Godfathers of Emo, Jimmy Eat
World. There were lots of Jimmy
fans present who seemed to know every word of every song, while I barely knew the
choruses of their final three, ‘Bleed
American’, ‘The Middle’ and
‘Sweetness’.
I was a lot more familiar with The National’s set list, with half of it made up of songs from
their latest album High Violet,
including the excellent opening combo of ‘Anyone’s
Ghost’ and ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’ and
the closer ‘Terrible Love’. In
between were a mix of songs from four of their five albums. Singer Matt
Berninger acknowledged someone in the crowd who was holding an inflatable alligator,
regardless of whether it was actually a nod to their third album or if the
individual concerned just liked inflatable alligators.
By that time we’d moved in front of the central barrier that
separated the hardcore fans from the hardercore fans, and in front of us was a
man possessed of a particularly hard core, who wore a T-shirt that Sal mistook as
an homage to Indiana Jones. It bore the words ‘David Attenborough for World
Leader’ on the back.
It was around this time that I popped to the bar to get a
round in, and I was served by a young boy surely no older than nine, whose face
was covered with glitter and multi-coloured face paints.
“Three ciders please little boy,” I said respectfully.
“Don’t patronise me you two’at,” I thought I heard him
mutter as he retrieved some pre-filled cups.
“Can I see some I.D?” he asked me suspiciously.
Now, I’m definitely too young to say “I’ll take that as a
compliment,” and I’m definitely too old to say “It’s my 18th birthday
tomorrow, honestly!”
“I.D? I’m old enough to be your father sunshine,” I replied
instead.
“Yeah? Well my father’s seventeen, so I can’t serve him,” he
responded with a smirk, which may have been true. Regardless, in a highly
dignified manner, I showed him my I.D and no serious harm was done to my
reputation, although to my left, a couple of people wearing over-18 wristbands couldn’t
hide their sneers.
-------
After The National departed there was a fairly
long break, while a curtain was raised across the front of the stage. With the
use of some pink lights, words began to flitter across it. They weren’t very
clear, but I adjusted to HD vision (which involves squinting) and just about
made out the most important words which were Pulp and ‘Do You Remember the
First Time?’
That song was the perfect
start to a brilliant gig (although of course Sal and San insisted they’d been
even better at Glastonbury). They drew heavily from their most successful
album, Different Class, and the
incomparable Jarvis Cocker was as entertaining between songs as most bands are
during songs. “The group is called Pulp,”
he said as the crowd chanted his name.
‘Joyride’ was dedicated to those brave rioters from a few weeks earlier;
who Jarvis suggested weren’t actually rioting, but were just playing Grand
Theft Auto outdoors. ‘Mis-Shapes’, a
particular favourite of Salazar’s was next, and Cocker declared that it was
seventeen years to the day since they’d first played here. “Who was here?” he
asked. “Let me rephrase that: who was born?”
I was, but I wouldn’t
have been old enough to understand the lyrics to their next song, ‘Pencil Skirt’ which Jarvis described as
a “dirty little number,” and was juxtaposed
with the love song ‘Something Changed’ that
followed, which I’m also still too young to understand.
-------
More of their greatest hits followed, including ‘Sorted For E’s and Wizz’, ‘F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E.’,
‘I Spy’, ‘Babies’ and ‘Underwear’ before Sheffield singer-songwriter and former Pulp member, Richard Hawley was introduced to the crowd on guitar,
though many will have already spotted his distinctive quiff. During ‘This Is Hardcore’, Jarvis climbed and
straddled a pair of speakers, displaying some impressive pelvic thrusts for a
47 year old.
Following a couple more songs, they came at last to their
final song, which was of course their biggest hit and undoubted classic, ‘Common People’. Jarvis referred back to
their show seventeen years ago where they’d played it at Reading for the first
time and he was told “You’ve written one there.” He said he didn’t even care if
it turned out to be the only song Pulp are
remembered for. “It’s a good song,” he reasoned, “Black Lace are only remembered for ‘Agadoo’.”
Pulp were co-headlining with The Strokes, which meant that they’d be trading slots when they
played Leeds festival the following day. Julian Casablancas suffered tonight by
having to follow the other JC, but as ever the laconic New Yorker didn’t seem
to care. If it’s fifteen years since Pulp’s
peak, it’s ten year since The Strokes’.
As a cool teenager, The Strokes were
one of my favourite bands and Is This It?
is comparable with anything by anyone.
I’d argue that the three albums they’ve made since, Room on Fire, First Impressions of Earth and Angles
all contain brilliance, but are diluted with a bit of guff, which shouldn’t cause
any problems during a headline set. Indeed, my first impression from the angle I
was at, was that they were on fire, though Sandro asked “Is this it?” when they
opened with the title track to the album that made them back in 2001 (A new low
in the pages of Gigaweek?)
-------
They were indeed on
fine form, calling on ‘New York City
Cops’ to set a pretty high standard for this year’s brilliant comeback
single ‘Under Cover of Darkness’ to
follow and they continued to belt out their hits. ‘The Modern Age’, ‘Reptilia’, ‘Someday’, ‘You Only Live Once’, and ‘What Ever Happened?’ all featured
before Julian invited Jarvis (or ‘The Jarv’ as he called him) out for a duet.
It was a cover of The Cars ‘Just What I Needed’ which I’m
not sure if I’d ever heard before, and looking around at the youngsters present,
I doubted I was alone. Julian suggested that they only had about ten minutes
left, which is almost enough for a Strokes
album, and they managed to squeeze in ‘Juicebox’,
‘Last Nite’, ‘Hard to Explain’ and ‘Take
it or Leave it’ in a frantic and fantastic finale.
My only minor gripes
were the absence of songs such as ‘12:51’,
‘Razorblade’ and ‘Taken for a Fool’
which would have comfortably nudged out ‘You’re
So Right’, ‘Automatic Stop’ and ‘Alone,
Together’ if I’d chalked up the set list myself. Among other delights, there
was still a headline slot from Muse to
look forward to, and with a stroke of luck they would be even better than the
first time I saw them.
-------
No comments:
Post a Comment