It's raining, the grass under my feet is littered with sheep droppings and the second tent we've brought along has no poles. Involuntarily I shout, "I hate Glasgowbury!" Then I have a beer. As we enter the main enclosure the clouds thickened, and the rain doubled its efforts. I brushed shoulders with someone and turned to see a rather wet Aaron of Blackbear Saloon. His glasses were steamed and sported pearls of rain, which he seemed oblivious to. We spoke briefly about his performance earlier that day, which I had missed, but he was in high spirits, probably mostly due to the fact he wouldn't have to sleep in the now several inch thick mud the festival was resting upon as he was jumping in the car and heading home. Not very rock and roll, but very smart. We trudged down the hill towards the impressively sized main stage, which wouldn't have looked out of place at an international festival. MojoFury sheepishly emerged and the small crowd began to fill out. The Mojo boys don't tend to do a lot of running around and acting up, but today they seemed overly static. The magic was stolen from a presumably special extended version of Colour of the Bear as lead singer Mike got a little lost, missed his cue for the chorus and flashed a momentary grimace at his mistake. It went a little downhill from there. Wet, and a little disappointed we decided to roam and get some food. One thing that I didn't expect was the amount of people that had come not only expecting the best from dense thick black clouds, but also dressed in Glastonbury-esque festival garb. Bohemian chic and fabulous Wellingtons studded the crowd, and apparently hats are the new scarfs and bright pink is the new black. The Spurs of Rock stage stood conveniently beside a burger van where we cued for 30 minutes for a burger, which my friend unceremoniously dropped on the ground. But this is a festival, well trodden mud won’t stand between a man and his only food for the next 12 hours. After quick anti-mud surgery Jaded Sun did enough to cheer us up from in the small and crowded canvas tent. We went for another exploratory mission and found the most bizarre and beguiling people I've seen in the longest time. We traded jokes with a jolly Joe Lyndsay, swapped coats with passers by and conversed with smiling strangers as those behavioural boundaries began to blur, along with my vision. In a technical note, the work by the sound engineering team was excellent throughout the day, if not faultless, and this was no more apparent when La Faro took the main stage sometime later. The thundering bass lines were audible throughout the site, and probably throughout much of the county. The growing congregation at the main stage soon became a small nation as headliners And So I Watch You From Afar blasted their way into the festival, filling the night sky with blood and thunder. The scene was soon spectacular as the full impact of this festival finally hit home. As is becoming tradition, the rest of the day's acts joined the boys on stage to frenetic cheering, pogoing and held aloft fists, while quietly in the background little flames of rumour the festival would falter after the original headliners Fighting With Wire pulled out were gently extinguished in the quietly falling midnight drizzle.
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Female Acts To The Four...
