Indier than thou
Amongst the many things I swore I'd never do, considering
myself too old for music festivals and spending a weekend in a
Butlins holiday camp had to be on the list somewhere. But this
weekend I'm doing both.
I used to love festivals - wall to wall gigs, beer and campfires,
but since I hit the wrong side of 25 things have changed. Now, the
prospect of spending three days in a field surrounded by
alcohol-fuelled new rave fans, whose idea of fun is sabotaging
port-a-loos, is distinctly less appealing.
So I've opted for something more civilised - All Tomorrow's
Parties in Somerset to be exact. It's still three days of live
music but instead of a muddy field it takes place in the aforementioned holiday camp, and it's over 18s only.
So far so mature.
But something is worrying me. It's not the feeling that my
youth is behind me - I've come to terms with a 'self
catering chalet' being more appealing than 'smelly two man
tent'. Nor is it the prospect of being surrounded by shoe
gazers saying things like: "they've really gone down hill
since their first limited edition 7-inch".
No, what's really got me worried is that despite the fact that
I've always considered myself pretty 'indie,' I've
only heard of about three of the 50-band line-up.
I knew I was in trouble when a quick look on Wikipedia revealed the
following: "a tendency towards post-rock, avant-garde, and
underground hip hop."
So, it looks like I'm condemned to
being distinctly un-cool for the weekend, surrounded by beard
strokers with the kind of record collections Q magazine wets itself
over.
Still, it could be worse, it could be a folk festival.
Oh yeah and did I mention I'm going with a group of physicists?
Very rock 'n roll.
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