rARsh!

Latitude

For those of you with too much of a life to keep up with my Twitters from the festival, here they are in full with added correction goodness (predictive text being both a boon and a curse for me). I’ve also expanded and explained where I thought that was necessary as well as adding hotlinks for relevant sites. I’m going for MySpace pages wherever there’s a choice of links so that you get to enjoy the musique too.

As it’s a biggie, I’ll hide it behind the “Read more” link.

Thursday

I’ve just been asked: Dropping off or camping? I’m the only one in the car!

Ah yes, Thursday lunchtime and on arriving at Henham Park I drive past a steward who’s directing cars based on whether they’re dropping people off or staying. Fair enough, but as I was the only one in my car I’d have thought the answer was fairly obvious. However, with hindsight, I was wrong. Once I’d parked, picked up my tent, sleeping bag and rucksack and struggled to the back of the queue I became aware that the group ahead of me were telephone parents asking them to drive over with a wheelbarrow to help transport their baggage train to their chosen camping location. Said parent would, then, be arriving alone but would be dropping off. Sorry, then, steward.

I’ve gone for the long walk to the stage option - I need the exercise.

On finally getting into the campsite I was faced with having to decide where to pitch my tent. I could either get as close as possible to the arena entrance, stay close to the campsite entrance or somewhere inbetween.

I wandered (lonely, as a cloud) down to the entrance to the main arena site. Um. The entrance to all the arenas, in fact. Well, just the one from the campsite - there was another one for day ticket holders. You understand, I’m sure. The announcement on the website that the arena would open at 5pm proved to be a little optimistic and it was after half past six that the gates finally opened.

There was no music on for the Thursday evening but the poetry tent was open for business. Bloody auto-focus - why would I want a photo focussed on the back of two strangers’ heads when I had John Hegley bang in the centre of frame? Eh? Eh? Stupid camera.

I’ve got a table overlooking the lake stage. Not looking good for the Hitchcock film, though - the tests are only showing 70% of the picture.

It must be said - this place is full of weridos.

It must also be said - weridos or not, I seem to be the only one here on his own.

The film was … interesting. Don’t quite see why Mark Kermode was so effusive, though.

It was certainly a good start to the festival to lounge back and enjoy a showing of Hitchcock’s “The Lodger” with a live orchestra doing the accompaniment, scored by Joby Talbot of The Divine Comedy.

Friday

Morning book club was funny. Now for some comedy …

Steve Williams, Arnab Chanda and the fabulous Rob Deering were the three comics I watched before the heat and proximity of people made staying in the comedy tent too uncomfortable for me. The compere (Cole Parker) wasn’t helping either, as he was dying on his feet. Tip: Don’t insult your audience for the first few minutes of your “act”, Cole. It’s not going to help you in the long run.

Williams and Chanda were both slow starters but their half hour slots gave them time to get into their stride and the audience warmed to them. I’d been hoping to see Mark Steel but he didn’t appear when he was scheduled to do so (they rejigged the opening set of four so that the now trio finished on its strongest act, that of Rob Deering. What a brilliantly funny (and talented) man he is. If you ever get the chance to see his act I strongly recommend you take that opportunity with both hands.

It was time, I felt, for my first live music of the weekend, so up the hill I staggered (don’t forget I’d just been crammed into an area too small for me for an hour and a half) to see who was on the main arena.

Hot Club de Paris are on the main stage but most of those in the arena wouldn’t know as they’re saying no heed.

This sounds very judgemental of me on reading it now, doesn’t it? What a pompous idiot I was. Why should everyone be sitting or standing facing the stage to prove they were paying attention to the group? I apologise to all those who were happy enough to have HCdP providing the background music to their afternoon. I really enjoyed their set, though, even from way out to one side (I was sticking to the shade as far as possible).

Everyone likes Cake!

Mmmmm, Cake. Strangely enough, it was the iLike application on Facebook which introduced me to Cake - whoever programmed the questions is obviously a fan of theirs - and from what I’d heard in the quiz I was looking forwards to hearing a full set. I wasn’t disappointed.

Enough of the main(stream) stage, I thought to myself. Let’s see what’s on elsewhere.

I headed down the hill, past the Uncut Arena, to the Lakeside Stage where Radio 1 were putting together a selection of bands they’d be “introducing” to listeners.

Could be interesting, I decided, so I took a seat.

The Teenagers are having feedback problems on the Lakeside Stage. A shame because they’re good.

Paris band The Teenagers (you’ll notice a recurring theme in this post involving “Paris”) were darned good, as far as I could tell. I say this because they really were facing problems with feedback. I’m not sure they’ll make it to the broadcast, which is a shame. I don’t know if you can tell from the photo but their guitarist (on the left in the photo) really did remind me of Phil Lynott.

Note to self: keep an ear open for Brigadier Ambrose. A very interesting mix of styles.

Is a liking for “world music” a middle class thing? Either way, Tiniwaren are most pleasing on the ear.

Sorry about the poor image quality - the Uncut Arena was a bloody gloomy place.

The headline acts for Friday evening were Wilco and Damien Rice. I half listened to them, wandering around near the main stage but not actually paying much attention. Both seemed to be decent enough.

I did enough the 30 minutes or so which I saw of the Joe Strummer documentary “The Future Is Unwritten“. Unfortunately I’d missed the beginning and I find I can’t settle to watch something if I’ve not seen it all. I wonder why that it? This does mean that I think the documentary was “The Future Is Underwritten” but it may have been another documentary about Strummer.

Saturday

The festival is great but the camping is really not enjoyable - I’m seriously considering going home tonight and just coming back for the day tomorrow.

Yes. I’ll return to the subject of ablutions later. Let’s move swiftly on.

Have decided to stick it out. Marcus Brigstocke very funny, Sarah Millican too, but very rude so early in the day. Waiting for my first band.

The Literature, Poetry and Comedy Tents all open for business before the music stages wake up so an early call in on the first of these to these gave me the chance to enjoy the wit of Marcus Brigstocke and Andre Vincent in “Early Edition” (being an early version of their “Late Edition”, of course. Just picking stories from the papers and jesting about them. They were joined by Carrie Quinlan and by a breathless Mark Steel (who’d apparently been ‘mugged’ by Brigstocke and Vincent as he returned from an early morning run and was taken to have accepted while he was unable to vocalise “No”). Quite amusing, especially when Brigstocke went off on a rant (about, I think, Richard Littlejohn), forgetting that his wife and two young children were in the tent. The others teased him about his children needing therapy in future. More on this later when I attending the second Edition on Sunday afternoon.

How does one tell strangers’ toddlers that one is not a funny fat man and that they should fuck off if they’re wise?

I don’t think this needs any explanation, does it? Tonto’s Girl certainly didn’t think so. I was minding my own business at the time back at the Lakeside Stage, waiting to watch some more new bands (and not just new to me for once).

Talk Taxis not to my taste, My Two Toms a little disappointing.

Talk Taxis just didn’t do anything for me but I really expected to enjoy the work of My Two Toms as their instrumental duets did seem to be right up my street. I don’t know why - possibly in part because they were far too quiet - but I didn’t enjoy their performance as much as I’d hoped to. You’ll hear what I mean if you visit their MySpace page.

After this I moved to the Uncut Arena for the first time.

Julian Velard going down well. A cross between Tom Waits and Billy Joel. In a good way.

Ah yes. Most enjoyable stuff and I’ll definitely be adding his work to my music library.

Elvis Perkins - more like Dylan than Presley. Less nasal than Bob, though.

Again, perfectly acceptable fare and being added to the ‘Buy’ list.

Thish shider’s deadly shtuff

Hmm. Yes. Well, it was a rather warm day and the drink wasn’t too unreasonably priced, all things considered.

Annuals - one of the strangest acts I’ve seen so far.

Chatting to/up a Guardian photographer. I’ve got a better camera than she has. Mind you, I’m also less attractive.

I’d taken shelter from the sun alongside the stage when a young lady came to sit down next to me. The first thing I noticed was … her camera. A Canon, although I couldn’t identify the model, so one she’d sat down I asked what it was. When she turned to talk to me I noticed a big sticker on her thigh, identifying her as a member of the press representing the Guardian. We chatted for a short while and she explained that she was suffering rather badly from sunstroke.

Herman Düne. Crazy name, crazy guys.

Good stuff from another band I’ve never heard of but hope to hear more of in the future. I turned back to Miss Guardian …

Oh dear. She’s literally being sick. Maybe I laid it on a bit too thick.

She wasn’t kidding about suffering from sunstroke. Poor thing.

It was a 350D, by the way, and quite a short lens as far as I could tell - I left her in peace once she’d said she was unwell although I did do my good deed for the day and bought her a bottle of water when I went to refresh my cider cup. I’m nice like that.

Bat For Lashes - a bit Bjork, a little Tori Amos. Good.

It may be the cider, but I’m beginning to think that BFL is Josie Lawrence having a laugh.

Oh yes. Excellent stuff from Natasha Khan. Unfortunately her piano developed a fault, leading to the curtailment of her set, but up until that point it had been very enjoyable.

My Joan as Police Woman review in full: Meh.

Not sure where I’d heard good things about Joan As Police Woman but whatever my source it was inaccurate. Nothing especially wrong about them, but nothing particularly good either, based on this performance.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah? Hardly. I’d suggest “Cover Your Ears Say Crap” as an alternative name. I walked out.

I wandered over to the Theatre Tent and the Cabaret Tent but - with the exception of Lizzie Roper’s Peccadillo Circus show - can’t say I was too impressed with what was on offer there.

Back up the (slight) hill up in the main arena, not even all the cider I’d consumed was enough to make The Good, The Bad and The Queen worth listening to. As far as I could tell, they - or, at least, Damien Albarn - didn’t really want to be there. Very, very disappointing. Maybe it’s what I should be expected - Albarn seems to have moved towards groups which really are unsuitable to live performances.

Sunday

Heading. Home for a proper shower.

Aaaaaaaaah. That’s better.

It may well be difficult to justify a 90 mile round trip just to take a relaxing shower and, um, ablute in comfort but trust me. It was well worth the mileage. On my return to the site - before half the campsite had woken, I suspect - I decided I’d better try to find the Sunrise Arena. The fourth and smallest of the music stages, this was rather removed from the main arena space, off down a woodland trail. It was well worth the trek, though.

Paris Motel - 3 violins, keyboard, guitar, drums and bass. A nice mellow sound but bass’s performance is OTT - bouncing about like a punk.

I’d come up with a theory. If a band’s name has “Paris” in its title or the band is from Paris then they’ll be good to listen to. Then I remembered that Paris Hilton has musical delusions. I’m disappointed that Paris Motel aren’t on iTunes and think that’s quite telling. It was rather bizarre to see the bass player bouncing about, though, which is why I wouldn’t buy a video.

Peter and the Wolf: Up tempo lo-fi fun. I like. I will definitely buy.

Not the easiest band to track down online (although “The The” or “A” would be harder, I suspect). Worth the effort, though. Definitely going to be adding their back catalogue into my collection.

You can hear the Kairdiff in Cate Le Bon’s voice. Like Catatonia with a little less whine.

The audience take the news that the rest of the set’s in Welsh with good grace. I think most are drunk.

Can’t find her on iTunes, more’s the pity, but the BBC do have film of her set at Glastonbury online.

I chose to take a break from the music and headed back to the Literary Tent, aiming to get a seat inside by 4 o’clock (when Brigstocke and Vincent were due to return). I was there in turn to enjoy some readings by a few authors, the most entertaining of which was Lynsey Hanley who read from her “Estates: An Intimate History“. It’ll be in my shopping basked shortly.

Listening to John Sinclair pontificating. Fascinating. Wrong on so many counts but fascinating.

Last of the authors - and given a full thirty minute slot - was John Sinclair. I’ll leave you to read up about him elsewhere. All I’ll say that his claim that his “good” drugs never did him harm were somewhat undermined by his walking into the set and, when he wasn’t trying to knock himself out, was twitching wildly. Not a good advertisement for the benefits of prolonged drug use, I’m afraid.

At last four o’clock arrived and, once they’d managed to persuade Sinclair to stop talking, Brigstocke and Vincent took to the stage. The special guests for this edition Connie Quinlan (again) and Phill Jupitus. Andre Vincent laughed about people claiming that he and Jupitus look similar (which they clearly do) but this was then undermined by telling the tale of Friday evening when Jupitus and Vincent were walking across the site. They were stopped by a family and were asked whether the family could have a photo taken with Phil. The family handed the camera to Phill Jupitus and crowded around Andre Vincent. Jupitus, apparently, played along.

The second Early Edition had me rolling around at the image of Marcus Brigstocke masturbating over Leon Britten. You had to be there.

All I can say is that it involved Brigstocke admitting feeling uncomfortable at seeing photos of Emma Watson at age 17. He said he’d not felt that uncomfortable¹ since (seing Natalie Portman in) Leon. Vincent commented that older people in the audience would be wondering “Leon? Leon Britten?” and it all went downhill from there.

Picture me wearing a straw cowboy hat. Now tell me who I look like because complete strangers are approaching me asking “How’s it going?”

Yes. This is still troubling me. Who were all these people? I must have been approached half a dozen times by complete strangers over the course of the weekend. Very odd. I escaped the odd people by crossing the bridge and heading back into the woods.

The Sunrise Arena is running late so I’m enjoying the shade beneath the trees waiting for Jaymay followed by Euros Childs.

Jaymay is ok but nothing special (so far).

A pleasant enough singer/songwriter but, as I said in my text, nothing special.

After the longest sound check in history - how many instruments do they need? - Euros (Childs) is off to a rockingly good start. Excellent stuff.

Euros did seem to have brought the contents of more than one music shop to the stage - Childs himself had two different keyboards and at least two guitars. Excellent music once they got started, though.

What is it about Welsh singers? I push up the hill to find Gruff Rhys still doing is soundcheck!

The delay may be because he’s brought his own set. It’s a testcard. No, I have no idea why

Gruff Rhys was the only performer I saw over the whole weekend who brought any furniture to accompany their act, let alone a complete “set” comprising a cut out TV set with a test card background. Very odd indeed. The music was as interesting as the stage set.

Jarvis Cocker - what a showman!

My final music of the weekend was a performance by Jarvis Cocker. A wonderful showman who, from the off, interacted with the audience and clearly wanted to be there, entertaining the appreciative audience - the polar opposite to Damon Albarn, then.

General facilities

Campsite

The campsite was roomy but I was dismayed at how some people are stupid enough to pitch their tents far to close to another. Idiots. It made returning to my own tent after dark quite an obstacle course. My tent, being a two-man version, was certainly big enough for me and my stuff (and I’d taken too much stuff) but it would have been a lot more comfortable with a tent in which I could stand up.

Ablutions

The toilet arrangments were, it must be said, horrific. I’m not saying there’s another way of providing temporary toilet facilities for 20,000 people but my stomach’s still turning at the thought of them. If you’re ever at a festival, I have three recommendations for you:

1. If the toilets are on a slope - and the chances are that they will be - be sure to go for the upmost stall so that any effluent will have slid downhill, away from beneath your cubicle
2. Take into account prevailing wind direction. If the highest cubicle is downhill from all the others, consider an alternative cubicle which is upwind from all the others.
3. Develop the lung capacity of a Japanese pearl diver or take nose clips with you.

While there were cold water points, showers were only available for four hours each day - 7 until 11am if you’re of the female persuasion, 11am until 3pm for males. The showers were, I understand, somewhat temperamental. I’d relied on hand washing until yesterday morning’s dash home for a shower.

Food

Now I can’t fault the range of food and drink on offer from veggie and vegan fare, a risotto van (and only mushroom or chicken risotto at that), noodles (with seaweed … mmmmm) and filled crêpes to organic burgery type vans. Meals seemed to range from £3.00 to £6.00 which doesn’t seem too unreasonable to me. Alcohol ranged from £3.00 (for the beer) to £3.50 per pint (for the most refreshing cider).

Well that’s my review of Latitude. All in all a great weekend and I’ve every intention of returning next year. Whether I camp again is another matter. If you’ve read this far please leave a comment - this post has taken literally hours so I hope that at lease one person reads it!

¹ and justifiably so, considering that Portman was only 12 or 13 when Leon was filmed!