The DMS Reading Festival Experience, part 3
Created | Updated Jul 11, 2003
This is my account of the final day of the Reading Festival Weekend.
Sunday 26th August
It is quite late by the time we leave Didcot. To be honest none of us can be bothered with the last day of the Reading Festival Weekend, but somehow we muster up the energy. Sunday is traditionally the Goth Rock day and none of us are particularly into that sort of thing, apart from the few exceptions. Instead of proceeding directly to the site in the rain we take a detour to the pub. The beer is a fraction of the price compared to the Festival. At the Festival you have a choice of two lagers - both of which taste like watered down rat's urine, one more so than the other, in comparison to the pint I'm nursing in the pub. This is the last chance I'll get for a decent sit (no, that isn't a mispelling) until I go home. But unfortunately time is running out and we must away...
4.30pm, The Carling Stage
Gloss are the first band I see today. They are not an unpleasant start to the day's listening. They are a five-piece mix from Liverpool, Norway and Ireland. They are reminicent of Blondie but remind me more of Catatonia.
5pm, Main Stage
For a Northern band, The Cult, sound American which seems slightly ironic when the singer, Ian Astbury, informs us that they are the only British band on the Main Stage today and we, a largely British audience, have to show these Yank bands what we're made of. During the performance he insults the make of shoe I'm wearing (can I help it if I go for comfort rather than style - at least my shoes are waterproof) but it makes up for it by insulting the beer available, the brewers who are sponsoring the event, and also informs us that he hasn't washed since they played in Japan a week ago. Perhaps, this is worrying for the crowd when he decided to go crowd surfing at the end of the set. They have recently recorded their first album in seven years, some of which they play, but they also play some of the older stuff including the surely classic She Sells Sanctuary. Their set should end here but the singer is enjoying the attention and goes crowd surfing while an epic guitar solo ensues.
6(ish), Main Stage
Supporting sexual equality, and not to be outdone by the hordes of scantily clad girls and women this weekend has seen, a nude, bald but bearded man in the form of Nick Oliveri, the bassist of Queens of the Stone Age, appears on stage. He's isn't the only naked male as a screen flashes up crowd shots of an audience member clad only in a skimpy orange mac. No one tries to get too close to him. Queens of the Stone Age bring their version of rock to our ears, pumping out Feel Good Hit of the Summer and The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret. Mark Lanegan, formly of the Screaming Trees, appears for a song. Though he may be in a rock band, Joshua Homme, the guitarist and singer, looks as though he'd be more at home (no pun intended) as an extra in the college scenes in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but decidcates a song to the girl who gave them the ecstacy. Wendy Ray Moan (surely not her real name?), appears on stage to duet with Oliveri for Quick and to the Pointless (sic). She tries to join in with the nudity but gets no further than taking her top off. The bra remains on. So much for equality.
7.45pm, Radio 1 Evening Session Stage
Gene are my musical highlight of the day. They play older hits much as Olympian, We Could Be Kings and As Good as it Gets as wells as stuff from their forthcoming album. All the songs have a certain majesty to them. Unlike a number of other performances, none of Gene's songs are out of place nor a waste of time.
9(ish)pm, Radio 1 Evening Session Stage
Having failed to see or hear Marilyn Manson on the Main Stage, I return to the Evening Session tent to hear Stephen Malkmus, the former Pavement songwriter, guitarist and singer. I'm not sure that singer is the right word though. He can't hold a note to save his life. It is painful to listen to his voice crack and grate over good songs he wrote but, perhaps, should have been performed by someone else. His rendition of Blondie's Heart of Glass is unexpected and amusing. After that he seems a bit confused as to what his last song will be.
10.15(ish), Main Stage
Possibly the biggest name this weekend, Eminem, is on with his D12 crew. They tell the audience to listen hard to keep up with them but the beat slows down. The links are overly contrived. I can't be bothered to put my trigger finger in the air. The lyrics may be full of violence and obscenities, but are mainly filled with self-obsession. Tonight they are neither really offensive or controversial, just boring. We've heard all this before. It's not original, clever or likely to start a riot as like me, most of the audience have had a tiring weekend and it takes too much effort to stampede. So I've seen the 'mighty' Eminem. Big deal. I'm festivalled-out. Tired and grumpy I leave him to bore someone else instead.
10.45(ish)pm, Radio 1 Evening Session Stage
Mercury Rev have a very atmospheric soaring sound, owing to a lot of 70's Prog Rock I'm sure. Frontman, Jonathan Donahue, has a squeaky voice like Placebo's Brian Molko, and to be honest, looks slightly camp to me (but what do I know? Ian Astbury insulted my footwear earlier). They do such songs as Goddess on a Hiway(sic) and Dark is Rising. During the latter, which is their closing song, Donahue waves his arms round like an eccentric conductor and flexes his weedy biceps at the end on the cue of the lyric 'strong'. My girlfriend and I have the following conversation during the song (and the weeks to come):
MG: They sound like glam rock.
Me: Sound nothing like T-Rex.
MG: You know. Like in Velvet Goldmine.
Me: You mean more like David Bowie?
MG: Yeah.
Me: I suppose...
We leave the Festival, tired and longing for bed. We can hear Eminem's encore as we exit. We vow that we won't do the Festival again. I pass a tent with 'Reading '99, '00, '01' scrawled on the side in black felt tip pen. I wonder if I'll see it next year?
