M first ever blog albeit in the form of a letter I sent to my best mate

M first ever blog albeit in the form of a letter I sent to my best mate

Dear Julianus

Well I have almost run out of superlatives that would adequately describe our latest Rhytm festival experience. Lets say its has gone up several notches from last year's offering.The weather was brilliant for which I suppose we must thank Zeus , Mahindra, Krishna or whichevcr deity is in charge of meteorological matters .Apart from a brief period on saturday morning ,the sun shone on us throughout each day.

Must make a mention of the fellow revellers who behaved impeccably- no wretching everywhere, no pissing or crashing on someones tent. In fact everyone was remarkably civil, all except me of course . Both my snoring and penchant for pissing in the middle of the night outside our tent ,this time on Christine's rear offside tyre , brought a chorus of disapproval. One bloke bawled out “Can someone turn that snorry bloke off .Its not fair!!”.He woke me the inconsiderate sod. Anyway these were minor matters as on the whole the atmsophere was excellent.

One of my favourite passtimes there was people watching- both young and old.The kids as always are a delight as they run around kicking footballs ,chucking frisbies etc but the old timers are also quite interesting.There was a prepondence of lard buckets this year which helped make me feel quite at ease.I guess the logistics and the relative smallness of the event make it a viable attraction for the more horizontally challenged amongst us. They were able to waddle along quite happily guzzling their lager and chips free in the knowledge that no one would shout “you fat bastard!”.Another group that caught my eye were the superannuated hippies from the seventies , some even sporting long greying hair, beads ,rings ,leather waistcoats and lurid shirts.One particular character sidled up to the bar ordered his pint of grog and proceeded to chat up the young waitress. When I say chat it was more of an incomprehensible blurb but she seemed quite taken. Maybe the idea of being rogered by “old craggy face” kind of appealed to her. Rather oedipal I thought but charming none the less.

Must tell you of an experience I had re the porta loos. Saturday morning saw me making my first use of them. They'd just been cleaned out and I thought “perfect”, so I ventured into one sat down and let my bowel movement take place. It was one of those pleasant ones when you know the end result will be firm but will ease out with minimum effort and nestle at the bottom of the bowl. “Mmm” ,I thought, “not bad” Anyway upon completion I went to pull the lever and the brown 'un wouldnt move. Three ,four times I tried ,each time with more vigour and still it wouldnt budge. “Fuuuuck!!” Shall i leave it and hope no one notices ? No I am too much of a gent, so I got a piece of toilet paper and gently eased the offending turd down. Task done except somehow in the tooing and froing movement I managed to get some lumps of excrement on both my t shirt and trousers.”Bugger, gotta clean that off, but, how, there is no water?? I know, I'll use spit” Spit spit, rub ,rub, got most of it off but the very evident brown stains would not shift. Now I have a choice tuck the t shirt in and display the stains on my trousers which are on the arse side ,or leave the tshirt untucked. I opt for the latter and scurry off back to our tent . First thing Nelly asks me is “ have you shit your self ?” The perceptive bitch!!”Nahh someone spilled some curry on me” I blurbed. Must have worked because she did not press me further.

Now to the music but before I start a special mention must be made for Jim Driver who organised this event.This guy in my view is the cojones de perro. Last year he made a loss but it didnt deter him having another go. He just upped the stakes, got some better bands , a decent programme and “Robert is your father's sibling”Bearing in mind this place can only accommodate 5 k ,his spending budget was always going to be very restricted so he aimed for passed their sell by dates, on the fringes or never heard of acts. The one thing he insists on is THEY MUST BE ABLE TO PLAY and he'll have no truck with useless ,here today gone tomorrow indie bands with attitude.With this in mind this is what we received or at least these were the bands I personally watched.

Friday

The Yardbirds . Only three surviving original members but they were tight and played with a lot of composure - R&B ,psychedelia and some of their well known hits

Hothouse Flowers – good oirish band whose efforts were slightly marred by the singers idiotic belief that he is some kind of sex God. He chucked his jacket down and proceeded to shake his body around obviously hoping the girls in the audience would chuck their soiled panties at him- sad git.

The Levellers- Now why the fuck have I never seen this band before??? They were just plain awesome. Been around for about 20 years as well.

Saturday

Joe Bonamassa . The day kicked in for me watching this dude from the good ole US of A playing shit kicking blues the likes I hadnt heard since Steve Ray Vaughn. This guy is an axeman supremo, go watch him ,buy his records he is that good.

Dr John- different kind of blues ,a much more laid back Misissipi confection. We know all about him and he didnt disappoint.

Seth Lakeman- a modern day English folky I feel sure we'll hear more of

Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel. Arrogant cnut, never did like him and he quite obviously resents the fact he never rose to become a big time Charlie. Doesnt stop boasting about how many women he's laid. As I say a prize cnut. Neverthteless I will admit through gritted teeth that he can play some good stuff.

Prince Buster – now I should have stayed and watched this dude , instead for some assinine reason I went in search of Tony Mcphee (ex Groundhogs axeman from the seventies)Should have stayed where i was as he was shit . On top of that he was late, about an hour late so I watched Ian Mathews( remember him? He made a hit single called Woodstock) instead . He was competent but I'm not one for crusty folk club atmospheres - all very earnest and solemn . Barnsley hippie pipes in “have you seen Terry Reid?” Who?? I smiled at him and kept quiet for fear of appearing ignorant. Then Long haired friend of Jesus appears from nowhere as he would , the guy is a dead ringer for the Messiah and I stand there wondering whether I ought shit myself or not.Then I remembered I had done that already and a repeat performance defnitely wasnt in order. "Jesus" had the most amazingly luxuriant long hair reaching down to his arse a ,neatly trimmed beard and steely blue eyes, his clothes were loose fitting, the kind one would associate with the Ist century AD. He stands there for a minute or so and as soon as I look away he glides off. Yup maybe I should've shit myself.I later consider that self defecation is probaly quite common at these events and, what, with the shere logistical nightmare that is maintaining sound cleanliness and hygene, decide those brown stains I commonly saw around me were probably good evidence of bowel movenents gone crazy , portaloo ineptitude or a poor ass wiping action.

Sunday shit last day

(I am wearing a clean shirt and trousers this day and decide to spend it at the main stage area guzzling beer)

The Blockheads - minus the late Ian Dury.I quietely admonish the lead singer because of his fowl mouth “ there are kids running around you moron! ”Have to forgive him, though, as he is plainly off his head and besides the band is shit kicking good.

Alabama 3- another massive highlight, this band plays a weird sort of elctro techno southern country western rock type stuff. They appear on stage clad in white suits and stetsons and one of their main men talks in a kind of southern drawl which emanates from a southern state I've never heard of . Thats because he and they are from London .He looks bit like spiv with a lecherous grin which he squarely aims at the young ladies . I can well imagine him sitting in a train behind a group of women ,grinning ,eyes bulging and with a length of spittle dangling from the side of his mouth. Dirty man. Good singer though. Then there is the fat bloke. Yes him standing in one corner clutching a beer can in one hand and a tab in the other . Again the same grin, but whats he doing there? Then it becomes obvious he is the “provider” as the band members slide over to him for a line or a qualude or even a tab. Every band needs a grinning fat bloke on the side I decide.

John Mayall

Well there is nothing i can say about him that you dont know already except I think you should tell the bloke who saw him and thought he was crap to get his ears syringed. Mayall is a consumate professional who doesnt do bad shows. It doesnt happen. One of the characteristics of this blues genius is his ability to unearth brilliant guitarists. On this occasion Buddy Worthington filled the role that others such as Clapton and Page did with so much aplomb. Who is Buddy you might ask? Well he hails from Fort Knox and he is serious lardy.Must weigh about 30 stone I'd guess. Mind you his guitar playing is sublime and ,whilst shaking his booty may not be welcome, he can certainly nestle his guitar on his considerable girth and play like the rest of us can only......well I can do a passable air guitar imitation but thats about it

Anyway it was a very pleasant weekend on the whole and one which I would certainly wish to repeat next year, they are already taking bookings now with a discount. I wanted to relay my experiences so that you might feel a little envious given your penchant for doing the same re the WC. I am also going to watch Alabama 3 in Brighton and Manu Chau in Brixton just so that you know that we in the SE enjoy an enormous choice of bands which you guys can only dream about in Cornwall. Is the envy gnawing away??