It’s noon, it’s Sunday, we’ve battened down the hatches. Aaron and Kate are our neighbours from Brixton. Kate’s tent has been decimated by the weather, the fly sheet is flapping like a green flag in the gale force wind. Aaron and myself run repairs while she sleeps inside, oblivious to the carnage going on outside. We retreat to our own tents to weather the storm… And this is a storm… The Estuary Stage has already been closed today – the elements are pounding it straight off the sea… Unoccupied tents have been blown and are pinned up against the campsite perimeter fence. Armageddon is upon us, I knew I should have prayed at Sunday School… Now we sit in our canvas tombs and wait for the Four Horsemen of The Apocalypse to take us all…
Manic Street Preachers
(Aaron Broster warns you…)
As a hardened Glastonbury veteran (though after a long 22 year hiatus, I’m distinctly soft around the edges!) I really didn’t know what to expect from my very first V Festival. Would I be raving down the front with my top off, hurling plastic glasses of cider at Rhianna and vomiting into someone else’s rucksack back at the tent? Or searching for some comfortable seating to people watch, looking like someones dad come to pick them up early from a party, remarking on the quality of the falafel and the surprising availability of marinated olives? Well, turns out it was a little bit of both and, don’t put that sandwich down just yet, I didn’t puke!
It’s all about the money honey… No kiddin’!!! After numbing the pain of the V line-up two years ago with more cider than a Wurzel could handle – I vowed to leave this long term friend to the people who it was gearing itself toward in latter years.
But when I was offered cheap last minute tickets I thought we could spend the weekend hunting out new life and new civilisations in Weston Park. A tall order now for a festival with the sole purpose of bleeding you dry, pumping you with safe music and says bollocks to anything like a ‘fringe tent’ for up and coming bands.More
No wonder Nicky Wire smiles throughout the performance – the Manics grossed about £80k in ticket sales for this gig alone. Not a bad job if you can get it, and they are worth every penny. Granted, you have to pay for the venue, the staff, the roadcrew, two tour buses, the stage, lights and sound transport, catering, accommodation etc… But there’s still a fair few pennies left to afford to mooch around the shops for a leopard print jacket. Yeah, I’d be smiling too.