so we get in the new motor minus Conker….. still missing and still no idea if he is in the band anymore(!)
wich the fucker would get in touch.
the Sun is belting down and spirits are high!
on the six hour journey we entertain ourselves by planning out new songs and ideas and concepts..
including our Beard Banning campaign; and a covers album called Floggin The Dragon where we cover all welsh acts in our style… 🙂
and also the Coldplay song Clocks that we were prancing around to in Galsto at 7am like a bunch of fairies…… we decided to do a version of this…… the song content will rant about everything being gay, as people seem to use this term wrongly a lot in conversation and thought we’d take it and exaggerate it.. it will make sense when it’s finished.. but this sparked hours of fun as we all randomly called everything and anything gay for the rest of the journey…
Traffic Jams GAY!
Ford Kas GAY!
Everyone who lives in Worcester GAY!
The Digestive System GAY!
we arrive at the gate of Beat-Herder at 7:02pm precisely greeted by safe-as-fuck organiser Nick who declared we were due on stage at 7pm and that we have probably missed our set… 😮 we all argued that we were on at 8pm.
he took us to main stage where the stage manager Biff shouted at us and said we fucked it. He said he had checked the emails and it was definitley 7pm… i then put my hands up and said ok.. it’s my faut i shoulda checked before we left.. OOPS, “anyway”… i said,”how bout we just get the fuck on stage right now and play til 8pm?”
we got out of car and walked straight on to stage plugged our shit in and are playing live within 5 minutes.. the crowd swells and the sun shines… people start jumping and whooping….. just getting going and the stage manager decides to stop us 7:50pm…. i mean! COME ON!!!! ffs. the crowd abuse him and shout at him but we are pulled off stage……. doghouse howls.. “come check us in the green tent at 2am” then we head back stage set up camp and collect a few crates and bottles
that night we get wrecked up and take in the festy.. and it’s fucking wicked… we set up on the smallest pa in the festy and bang out a fucking messy chaotic set in the green tent at 2am.. to a dishevelled and wooping bouncy crowd which included cardiff legendary DJ and birthday boy DAVE GROOVESLAVE and Mr. ThimblebERRy!!!!
Johnny No-Cash again failing to provide visual projections decides to hump a nearby monitor speaker and ride it like it’s a fucking bucking bronco or his favourite gelding from his warped childhood…
Mid-set, Filth randomly squawks at me and with two fingers points at his eyes and then me and repeats with a fucked up charlie warped angry emptiness….i pick up my bottle of water and fling it at his stupid, red, neil kinnock-looking head… he looks like he is gunna come at me again like at the Cwmaman gig… i am ready… he sits down and carries on drumming.. the front row witness this, half of them laiughing half of them freaked out.
proving at the sign of any trouble my natural reaction would be to run like fuck. gay.
me and the neck walk round the festy and chill together as the sun pops up..
i got Kev the laptop on my back as always.. and everyone calls me ninja turtle or school kid or wahtever..
i think about this and think well, i am ready to plug this fucker in anywhere any time and make thousands of people dance…
i start chanting in my head over and over…
“i’m a one man mother-fuckin party machine.”
this will be the new sicknote song.
fucking amazing weekend.