January 8, 2008

Things I learnt in 2007…

1) Festivals are gradually becoming less and less appealing as the rat race for ticket turns into an outright scalping bonanza and the events themselves are flooded with a fashionable young crowd predominantly there for a sun tan, eccie and a late night pash, not to hear some decent music. I remember the days when festivals were a novelty that my parents hesitantly bought me tickets for upon the promise that I’d be home sober and virginal by 11pm. This month’s Cosmopolitan even features a ‘Festival Fashion’ spread with the hottest outfits to wear to your festival of choice under the subtitle ‘Forget The Music, Half The Fun Is Getting Your Looks Gumboots-At-Glastenbury Perfect’. Fuck off.

2) Bands should probably be ignored when they declare to the world that they’ve broken up. This is apparently short for, ‘We will momentarily bask in the distraught sobs of our uber fans and a brief spurt of retrospective publicity, enjoy a 6-18 month break, and then announce several ‘reunion’ shows before reforming”. In the immortal words of the Backstreet Boys, quit playing games with my heart, yo.

3) Sometimes it’s far, far better not to meet your favourite bands, as five times out of 10, they’ll turn out to be right dickheads. 2007’s experiences ranged from monotoned youngsters whom I prayed were battling with severe jetlag to drug-addled lead singers who were keen to chat but not so hot on the ‘coherency’ side of things, to several turgid bastards too self important to even hold a conversation. Mate, you travel the WORD playing MUSIC to adoring FANS and drinking BOOZE. What’s the problem?

4) Emo music is brainwashing and brutally murdering ‘our kids’ one by one, turning previously
joyous, sociable teens into suicidal demon spawn. Damn you, skinny leg jeans. DAMN YOOOUU!!!
5) Turns out that when you ban cigarette smoking at pubs and live venues, you open the door to the overwhelming stench of stale beer and old man stink, and in a few lucky venues, the crispy tang of last night’s spew. Meh, at least it doesn’t kill ya.