Let's keep it to the onstage performances.
Eddy Current Supression Ring
The singer bloke wore surf/skate apparel and a pair of black leather gloves. Had a brief argument with a mate as to why the gloves. Mate argued "to look cool and ironic," while I pushed the "burns patient" defense. We only agreed on one thing. Eddy Current Whatever Ring are not our thing.
Sons And Daughters
All over the place songs in 1990's chic Glaswegian accents. Nice frocks but.
Before I sat down to write this, I had a quick look at Beth at Miaow's Meredith review. Her take on The Kills is spookily the same (down to the Cousin It comparisons) as what I was going to say. Bugger it, here's what she wrote...
They were posturing American crap. Actually, they were repetitive posturing American crap, which is also how you could describe me if you knew my lineage, but you don’t. You can get away with playing your guitar with nothing but samply stuff and a pouting Cousin It to help you, but you’ve got to be good. You shouldn’t have to thow in robotic guitar playing movements and simulated sexual tension. Nor should you think that looking angst ridden whilst moving in a feline manner is going to help either. Jeeez. They bored me rigid.J-Live
So so ho hum hip hop straight from New York. Marred by mixing desk gremlins causing vocals to only come out of the left side for two to three songs.
First a couple of kooky lookin', kooky smilin' wacky arse sikhs bang their drums for several minutes. Then a bunch of amateurish dancers do their kooky stuff for the next seven hours. Kooky.
Stephen Malkmus And The Jicks
I was struggling at this point of proceedings. Malkmus' nine minute jams on songs I never liked in the first place, weren't making things any better.
Billy Childish And The Buff Medways
Brilliant, just as I guestimated. When I grow up I really want to be Billy Childish. I've already erected an eisel in the backyard.
You Am I
The biggest performance of the weekend. Made Wolfmother look like a bunch of curly haired twits. Honest, dirty and bittersweet rock'n'roll.
I was under heavy sedation at the time.
The Avalanches DJ Show
Here's me at The Pink Flamingo.... "Let's go down and dance to the Avalanches! They're playing Talking Heads! Come on! Let's go down and dance to the Avalanches! Come on!" Nobody would. Instead, a few of us thought it would be a good idea to go to someone else's campsite "soiree" which was nowhere near as fun as dancing to The Avalanches.
The "soiree" consisted of a bunch of humorless blokes trying to indulge in a guitar/harmonica/squeezbox jam. For so late in the night, these blokes were playing way too tentative. Frustrated, I snatched the harmonica player's instrument off him, gave it a wipe and blew the "soiree" away with one of the most brilliant, most soulful and most gorgeous harmonica solos ever performed in the history of earth.
Did the "soiree" duly appreciate my genius?
Drunk Girl: "That was amaaaazing."
Humorless Bloke #1: "It was a bit loud. We do have friends trying to sleep around here."
Drunk Girl: "I've never heard such..."
Humorless Bloke #2: "Yeah, I think it's time we called it quits for the night."
Matt Walker and Ash Davies
Due to the extended search of my campsite for the little bit of dignity I have left (which was misplaced somewhere during the "soiree"), I missed all of Matt & Ash's set but the last bit of All By Myself.
Quote Of The Weekend
Top mate and sound mixer to the stars, Simon Banko was getting peeved by the wonderful Okkervil River's crappy mix.
"I can't hear any of that accordian. MORE FARKING ACCORDIAN! MORE OF THAT FARKING ACCORDIAN! TURN IT UP!!"Words that may never be said again.....