The first thing that usually hits you about a music festival is the scale of the operation. 85,000 people attended T in the Park, and a large number of them were queuing up at the arena gates when I arrived on Thursday. It's a lot to take in. People talk about huge numbers every day, and can say in a casual manner that 10,000 records being sold isn't much. In my opinion, accountants should go to a large music festival. A greater appreciation and understanding of numbers is instantly achieved (and everything is 10 times the normal price so budgeting can keep them on their toes). And what a large variety of folk. Aggressive people, happy people, teenagers, dance-music lovers, metal-heads, junkies, hippies, families, couples and of course, me. By myself. I wonder now, looking back on the thing if I was the only person there by myself. It seems possible saying as how I never really met anyone camping on their own (and good god, I met just about everyone else, I even saw at least two guys also wearing yellow wellies).
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It's pronounced DEADMOUSE. You'll get a slap
for saying DEAD-MAO 5 |
Which is not to say I didn't enjoy the experience. I do prefer social situations, but I can cope on my own. There was no-one to drag me along to see a band I didn't particularly want to see, and I could leave my tent as god damn messy as I wanted it to be. On the Thursday, I befriended two sound English guys by the names of Matt and Andy that I queued with, and ended up camping beside them. After setting up the tents, they relaxed in their camping chairs. I got progressively drunker and ran all around the massive campsite talking to everyone and dancing like an epileptic at the 'boom bus'. Every now and then I'd come back to the tent drunker, throwing handfuls of stolen cigarette papers like confetti, wearing a husky hat that looked like I'd decapitated a dog and stuck it to my scalp. God knows what they thought of me. But I had many fantastic experiences. I lifted a stranger up on my shoulders and we sung a word perfect but very out-of tune 'Underwear' along with Jarvis Cocker during Pulp's set. I got very baked during Crystal Castle's set from the surprisingly large amount of people smoking marijuana around me, and I just let myself get pushed about the place with nothing more than a stupid grin on my face. And I'm not usually one for fireworks, but they seemed almost magical as Deadmau5's set drew to a close with a triumphant, yet ambient and subdued set closer. What can I say? I'll tell you what. I'm not going by my bloody self next year.
In other news, finding work experience is going badly, and finding another job is worse. And unfortunately for all you horny bloggers out there, thehesitantcalamari is no longer single. No more wrapping my tentacles around a ship for company any more. Thanks for reading!
p.s Having problems with life at the moment (e.g family, where I'm going to live etc) and things, but I'm going to try and not let it get in the way of the blog
Sounds like a hell of a fun time, and congratulations on the new mate. I wish your tentacles many years of, um, sticky suckiness?
ReplyDeleteSo, the festival was a huge putting- it- into- perspective experience for you, huh?
ReplyDeleteWow, that soudns so cool. I wish i were there.
ReplyDeleteVery, very jealous of you getting to see Pulp. In fact I could puke.
ReplyDelete+joined
I lifted a stranger up on my shoulders and we sung a word perfect but very out-of tune 'Underwear'
ReplyDeletePlus
thehesitantcalamari is no longer single
Reading between the lines, or to be more accurate removing lots of words between these two sentences…is this how you met? If not don't tell her or you will be back on the singles market quicker than you can be refused Olympic tickets....
I must say very brave to go on your own for a long weekend of gigging. I went to see the Rolling Stones on my own when I was 17 (none of my friends could afford to or wanted to go) it was the loneliest experience of my life surrounded by 90,000 people who had no wish to converse with a spotty little youth. Now a days I would forced my way into a conversation, like I do at most concerts when Mrs B is running late – last night she did not make it into see Athlete until halfway through the set, although that’s an improvement on Kylie when Mrs B didn’t make it until half an hour after Kyle had left the building (I still maintain that Mrs B had the better evening). Still I had an interesting chat with Lee and Nicky, while Lee and Nicky sat traumatised by the stranger who accosted their ears….