Added some more userpics that I wanted to use (I'm starting to get into this Livejournal stuff), then I'm going to work out the little link things on the side because I'm faaaaar too hyperactive to sleep right now. Hopefully I'll get fed up with my inability to add them and head off to slumber, but I'm extraordinarily stubborn and astonishingly un-savvy with these tech things. Trial and error; my greatest friend.

So. To the business at hand. Reading Festival; the main topic of conversation to adorn this post. Hopefully I'll look back on this next year and remember how brilliant things were, and hopefully there's enough here to trigger the memories in full. I can also see which bands I need to get music for.

It.
Was.
Fan-
-tastic.

I'll be honest; I was pretty scared this year would be a bit of a bummer. Especially after the previous year where I experienced first hand how difficult it is to merge two groups of friends effectively. That's not to say 2008 was terrible, but compared to '07 there was a distinct lack of energy, excitement and laughs. Though this year there were still less wild night antics than my first Reading experience -- and no creative Moses costume -- there were other aspects that made up for it. Do I need to point out the flippin' awesome lineup on Sunday? The roflage of having Nick around, even if it was only for a day (come on, the guy's been in Guyana a year)? So much positives that it easily shifts to third place at the very least on my Music Chart of Lovesome Gigs.

Friday was a bit of a waste, though that's hard to say when Placebo and Friendly Fires played. Running was involved so that I could hear all my favourite Placebo songs, but gosh it was worth it. I'll forever hear Pure Morning sung live on the main stage now instead of the studio version on iTunes, but they'll always look like gothic girls to me, not those more manly long haired men of steel that performed. Then over to FF, who put on a brilliant performace as is expected from the band that has introduced full blown Brazillian Carnival dancers to their live act. Also got to mention The Temper Trap (whose lead singer looks like Miles from Lost), and where I saw Boone wandering around in the crowd dancing along. I thought I'd found myself in a new interactive season, but unfortunately Claire wasn't to be found anywhere.

Being the lazy bums that Lew and I are we missed a lot on Saturday that would have been immense, but still we caught the pick of the bunch with 65daysofstatic and The Prodigy, both of which were unforgetable -- and not just because the lead guitarist balanced his guitar on his chin during the 65 performance, which impressed me even more than the fact the drummer never missed a beat while mashing live with pre-recorded rhythms. Nor because I managed to move from the back of the crowd to the front, then back again in the space of three minutes during Prodigy without taking a single step. Then to top the evening off some Rise Against (where they played all the Elante songs, Clover :P). Oddly enough, this was probably the most mellow part!

But none of that compares to Spectacular Sunday. Starting with some light snacking of Metronomy, The Qemists and Crystal Castles, I then moved onto the main course of Bloc Party and Radiohead. The first three were crazy. They'd have been crazy regardless, but I managed to get myself right at the front of hundreds of people as everyone jostled for the best position to grab, lift and generally worship whoever lay ahead. I was inches away from ruffling the Qemist lead singers hair (the afro guy), but literally had Alice from CC on top of me for half of one song -- she's titchy though, so it wasn't so bad. Fame gives you a new perspective on people too, I've found. What was bad was that I couldn't get very far forward for Bloc Party, but gosh did I scream my lungs out to every single song they played. People were giving me weird looks as I recited versus in time with Kele -- though not necessarily in tune -- and were nice enough to join me as the chorus was belted out by thousands upon thousands of people all watching eagerly and obviously wishing they could give the guy a hug. The dancing was much tamer compared to earlier, but that was preferred, especially since the rest of the group weren't feeling up to getting bounced about. 

Then Radiohead came on. 

I'd left Lew somewhere in the crowd, and the others had stupidly gone to watch one of the regular bands rather than this once in a lifetime opportunity. The likelihood of getting a ticket to see them again is pretty slim, especially at a price as good as Reading. One hundred and seventy-five hard earned pounds might sound like a lot, but when you take into consideration the amount of bands you can see -- and the likely ticket prices for them -- you're getting an awesome deal. To see them at a local arena would likely cost you in the hundreds, for one gig. Smart pricing people!

The light show was like nothing I've seen before. Easily on par with the Nine Inch Nails performance of last year. Then there was the music. Thom Yorke never struck me as a particularly wonderful singer. Okay, he can sound nice and make lovely noises but so what? I see reality show winners who can do that, but this guy hit every note perfectly. Literally, not a single thing was out of place. The guitars, the drums, the effects and especially the vocals were all spot on. As crisp and precise as they are in the studio album, completely blowing away Kele who got some wonderful tones but drifted on and off. Maybe it's just experience, the sign of a close knit group or sheer talent, but they were utterly amazing. They blew my mind. Then just as I thought it couldn't get better, it did. ;)

So yes, overall, FRIGGIN' AWESOME WEEKEND. Now bask in my userpics, and buy your tickets for next year. ;P

So here we are . . .

I find myself on Livejournal for another go at this blogging business thanks to the marvelously persuasive Clover, sitting up at three thirteen in the morning as I wait with anxiety for five thirty to roll on. 

The scent of Reading Festival is in the air, musky with camp fire smoke, unwashed bodies and complete ignorance to bad hygiene. But who cares? other than the locals . . . Because we'll be jumping along to music all evening, only to go back to our tents to jump around to the beat of the steel bins. Silence will reign for only a solitary sixty minutes between six and seven, before those weirdos who get up early in the morning rise to beat the rush to the shops.

I have no idea whether I have everything I need, but we'll find out as soon as we get there!

Meanwhile, I have been slaving over this blog. It doesn't look much, but people say looks can be deceiving, so hopefully that belief will deceive you into thinking it's more than it is. The majority of this will probably involve my raves about NaNo in the near future, as I try to tackle 50,000 words in the one month where I have stuff to do. It'll be a challenge, but I'm sure I'll get through it (Clover will not allow me to fail). No idea as of yet, because as you will come to know I do everything at the last minute -- the thrill spurs me on (or is that desperation?).

Anyway. My eyes hurt. I want to sleep, but Reading will roll on . . .