field day festival

It’s all in the planning as they say, but it’s possible the Field Day organisers took a trip whilst arranging the facilities this year: the loos, food outlets and bars were as rare as mountain gorillas - and just as hairy. Sound issues became a problem for many of the bands, including Goodbooks. What at first seemed to be a dodgy P.A. system was actually sound censorship by the local council. Appearing for the second time in twenty-four hours vocalist Max Cooke didn’t disguise his irritation at the municipal meddling. The Concretes had other concerns though. The band are still being haunted by last year’s sudden departure of lead vocalist Victoria Bergsman, although their rendition of ‘You Can’t Hurry Love’ went a long way to exorcising her ghost. Foals, meanwhile, were still recovering from the Friday night bash. Yannis was overwhelmed by the huge following and mumbled, “all I can see is a sea of marshmallows…” – so that’s where all the drugs went! Electrelane received the most rapturous welcome of the day. After seeing so many bands full of bearded men, sharing a sweaty tent with an all-girl band brandishing guitars felt like heaven. Verity, Emma, Ros and Mia didn’t disappoint. Anyone lucky enough to squeeze in witnessed a feverish performance, with Mia giving her guitar the Hendrix treatment whilst writhing over an amp. Hungry, thirsty, and with full bladder, the thought of sitting through a set by The Mystery Jets was about as appealing as the overflowing toilets. There is a limit to the amount of posh kids this council estate bloke can tolerate. Instead, Late Of The Pier provided a more earthly distraction with their raucous, bare-chested tunes and ghostly alien accomplice eerily wandering the stage. The choices for the final hour of Field Day included a seated Gruff Rhys, a pounding set from Justice or a resurgent Liars playing Germanic dance rock. Unfortunately, the noise abatement policy of the council made the decision academic. The end of festival party was well and truly pooped by the enforced volume controls, forcing the atmosphere to remain eerily subdued. I resorted to watching someone roll past me inside the giant Rumble Strips drum, which had only recently adorned the merchandise tent ‘for display purposes only’. He was sure to wake with a massive headache in the morning…but still not as big as the one Field Day will have next year if it fails to learn from this years disorganisation problems.