Some Day (an overview of Day 1 at The Reading Rock Festival)
The day got off to a pretty disappointing start due to the fact that by the time we got into the arena we realised we'd already missed The Moldy Peaches, The Soundtrack Of Our Lives and The Bellrays. Bummer! But there was no time to mope as there was the first beer of the day to grab while we absorbed the schedule and caught the end of the Mercury Rev set. It's some sort of tribute to the line-up tonight that a band with a back catalogue of brilliance like MR are reduced to playing so early. Their beatific soundscapes are more suited to around dusk rather than the baking heat of mid-day sun but they still sounded as good as ever and I'm glad we didn't completely miss them.
On then to Interpol in the Carling Tent. I'm likely to be banging on about this stylish New York outfit for weeks on end (or until the next fabulous band comes along) so I'll try and rein in the ravings about them just now, but their run-through of their sensational album 'Turn On The Bright Lights' seemed to go down well with a crowd full of Strokes wannabes: well enough anyway for eyebrows to be raised amongst some when the band returned for an encore, almost unheard of for an act playing this early on in the schedule. But entirely appropriate in my view for one of the most important rock bands to have emerged in the last five years.
Just time then to pop to the loo before the next band come on. Only the nearest toilets are closed (already) meaning I have to trudge all the way down to the facilities just left of the main stage, in the meantime losing my friends. On the way back, stop for a minute or two to check out The Dandy Warhols, but they've still got their clothes on so I hotfoot it back to The Carling tent where an expectant crowd has already formed awaiting the much-touted Datsuns.
If a measure of the imminent stardom of a band is their appeal to attractive young women then The Datsuns are genuinely about to take over the planet as The Strokes lookalikes are replaced in the tent by a seething mass of sexy, scantily-clad rock uberchicks. Either perched on their boyfriends' shoulders or hanging on to the rafters, the young girls understand that a peek at the hottest new band on the scene is worth the risk of breaking your neck any day. And this is a band that hasn't released a record in this country yet.
So what are The Datsuns like? Well, imagine AC/DC, Sabbath, Motorhead and MC5 (yes, them again) at their best melded together in a full-on motorway pile-up and times the result by 10 and you'll be getting somewhere near it. They're so good nobody seems to notice that in his speaking voice the singer sounds like an antipodean version of Neil from The Young Ones.
New single In Love hits the shops next month, and (as I've mentioned before) I can't see anything in the way of this band becoming massive. They seem like the group most likely to find the broadest consensus of approval amongst all the disparate strands of rock fans since...well, Nirvana. I know. They said that about The Vines. But The Datsuns could really do it, and all the young kids will surely realise just how fake and corporate all that nu-metal shite has been that has been peddled to them these last few years. Loud, raw, primal and tuneful, The Datsuns are the real deal: cherish them.
No time to reflect on that just then though, because The White Stripes have just come on early over at The Main Stage. Hard to believe that just over twelve months ago no-one had heard of the Stripes but already they're playing a set covering three albums' worth of great songs that feels like a 'greatest hits' collection. I know some people who were disappointed with the band's Glastonbury set but tonight they were on top form and really seemed to be into it. And Jack White is surely the greatest guitarist of his generation, no? Towards the end, he takes time out to thank the UK for always having been nice to 'me and my sister(?)'. No Jack, it's us that should be thanking you.
With the stripey-types starting and finishing early, I get the chance to look in on Ladytron playing in the dance tent. All dressed in black, the girls and boys play a set as slick, sexy and cool as they are to a small but enthusiastic gathering, the singles 'Playgirl' and 'The Way That I Found You' being the obvious highlights. A new album soon but would be great though, huh?
Next comes the first big call - The Vines or Weezer? Hmm. One good album's worth material against four, so not such a hard choice after all: Weezer it is, then. Rivers Cuomo has a fluorescent green guitar strap emblazoned with 'Rivers' on it so we know who he is, but the expectant crowd who'd been chanting 'Wee-zer/Wee-zer' in anticipation for the previous fifteen minutes already knew that, I reckon.
Rivers works the crowd well between the songs although it's difficult to decide whether his cheerleader antics are him being ironic or not. After all, there's always been a smirking element to Weezer, a feeling that Mr. Cuomo is a mite too clever for his own good, that distances a band capable of churning out top-quality choonage from a wider audience. He also loses marks for apparently (?) thinking he's on the same bill as Guns 'n' Roses and The Prodigy. Uh, Rivers, those bands are playing Leeds tonight, not Reading. But he knew that...right?
I was a little disappointed that they didn't play more tracks from this year's 'Maladroit'; opting instead for a safety-first set containing their hit singles, bookended by their first two smashes 'The Sweater Song' and 'Buddy Holly'. Maybe The Vines would have been a better bet after all, but later reports suggest they were only 'OK' too.
6.30pm was the time to catch up with my friends, and it was also at this time that the beers started to kick in and the clouds started to form. By the time Electric Soft Parade take the stage in the huge Evening Session tent there is a massive downpour, which means many of the assembled spend much of their time peering anxiously out at the weather rather than concentrating on the bands revisionism of Creation's early-90s output for a modern audience. But just as shoegazing was pushed aside by grunge, the more immediate appeal of the likes of The White Stripes, The Vines and The Datsuns looks set to leave the ESP in the shade. Which is a shame, but hey, life can be cruel sometimes.
The rain was still sheeting down so we went cold turkey on the alcohol and stuck around for The Breeders. They played a competent but unexceptional set where everyone seemed to be waiting in anticipation for the launch of 'Cannonball'; which when it happened was exceptionally good, naturally. I haven't caught up with their latest album 'Title TK' yet, but with the benefit of a Steve Albini production, I'm still willing to give it a try.
The rain then steadied down to a trickle, perhaps in recognition of the imminent arrival of the new! ecological! Pulp. Jarvis was his usual entertaining self, replete with dreadful puns (like I'm one to criticise, eh?). 'You've all brought loads of books with you, haven't you? 'Cos this is the reading festival, isn't it?' Er yes, Jarv, don't give up the day job, eh? And when his day job includes writing and performing songs as devastatingly brilliant as 'Babies', frankly why should he?
And so finally, The Strokes. With the hype bandwagon having transferred to the likes of The Vines this year, here was a chance to assess their tunes with a little more detachment and objectivity. And you know what? The songs sound better than ever, the opening chords of 'Someday' giving me more pleasure than I should probably readily admit, and the likes of 'Hard To Explain' and 'Take It Or Leave It' giving even the most jaundiced of observers the perfect opportunity to bounce around and act like an idiot. Jack White from The Stripes joined in for 'New York City Cops' and a birthday cake was produced for birthday boy J Casablancas who had to remain seated throughout the energised set due to his leg injury.
It was all very sweet: the moment that is, not the cake - I wasn't quite close enough to get a taste of that.
And that was that, apart from grabbing some food (yeah, eating, I knew there was something I'd forgotten to do) before taking a taxi outta there, and reflecting on the question: was this the greatest bill ever assembled for one day at a festival?
Not convinced? The just think about the bands I didn't get to see - aside from The Vines, there was The Moldy Peaches; The Soundtrack Of Our Lives; The Bellrays; The Kills; Peaches; Princess Superstar; The Reindeer Section; Aphex Twin and The Polyphronic Spree; all of whom would've made a great day out in themselves. Too many great bands, too little time...
The day got off to a pretty disappointing start due to the fact that by the time we got into the arena we realised we'd already missed The Moldy Peaches, The Soundtrack Of Our Lives and The Bellrays. Bummer! But there was no time to mope as there was the first beer of the day to grab while we absorbed the schedule and caught the end of the Mercury Rev set. It's some sort of tribute to the line-up tonight that a band with a back catalogue of brilliance like MR are reduced to playing so early. Their beatific soundscapes are more suited to around dusk rather than the baking heat of mid-day sun but they still sounded as good as ever and I'm glad we didn't completely miss them.
On then to Interpol in the Carling Tent. I'm likely to be banging on about this stylish New York outfit for weeks on end (or until the next fabulous band comes along) so I'll try and rein in the ravings about them just now, but their run-through of their sensational album 'Turn On The Bright Lights' seemed to go down well with a crowd full of Strokes wannabes: well enough anyway for eyebrows to be raised amongst some when the band returned for an encore, almost unheard of for an act playing this early on in the schedule. But entirely appropriate in my view for one of the most important rock bands to have emerged in the last five years.
Just time then to pop to the loo before the next band come on. Only the nearest toilets are closed (already) meaning I have to trudge all the way down to the facilities just left of the main stage, in the meantime losing my friends. On the way back, stop for a minute or two to check out The Dandy Warhols, but they've still got their clothes on so I hotfoot it back to The Carling tent where an expectant crowd has already formed awaiting the much-touted Datsuns.
If a measure of the imminent stardom of a band is their appeal to attractive young women then The Datsuns are genuinely about to take over the planet as The Strokes lookalikes are replaced in the tent by a seething mass of sexy, scantily-clad rock uberchicks. Either perched on their boyfriends' shoulders or hanging on to the rafters, the young girls understand that a peek at the hottest new band on the scene is worth the risk of breaking your neck any day. And this is a band that hasn't released a record in this country yet.
So what are The Datsuns like? Well, imagine AC/DC, Sabbath, Motorhead and MC5 (yes, them again) at their best melded together in a full-on motorway pile-up and times the result by 10 and you'll be getting somewhere near it. They're so good nobody seems to notice that in his speaking voice the singer sounds like an antipodean version of Neil from The Young Ones.
New single In Love hits the shops next month, and (as I've mentioned before) I can't see anything in the way of this band becoming massive. They seem like the group most likely to find the broadest consensus of approval amongst all the disparate strands of rock fans since...well, Nirvana. I know. They said that about The Vines. But The Datsuns could really do it, and all the young kids will surely realise just how fake and corporate all that nu-metal shite has been that has been peddled to them these last few years. Loud, raw, primal and tuneful, The Datsuns are the real deal: cherish them.
No time to reflect on that just then though, because The White Stripes have just come on early over at The Main Stage. Hard to believe that just over twelve months ago no-one had heard of the Stripes but already they're playing a set covering three albums' worth of great songs that feels like a 'greatest hits' collection. I know some people who were disappointed with the band's Glastonbury set but tonight they were on top form and really seemed to be into it. And Jack White is surely the greatest guitarist of his generation, no? Towards the end, he takes time out to thank the UK for always having been nice to 'me and my sister(?)'. No Jack, it's us that should be thanking you.
With the stripey-types starting and finishing early, I get the chance to look in on Ladytron playing in the dance tent. All dressed in black, the girls and boys play a set as slick, sexy and cool as they are to a small but enthusiastic gathering, the singles 'Playgirl' and 'The Way That I Found You' being the obvious highlights. A new album soon but would be great though, huh?
Next comes the first big call - The Vines or Weezer? Hmm. One good album's worth material against four, so not such a hard choice after all: Weezer it is, then. Rivers Cuomo has a fluorescent green guitar strap emblazoned with 'Rivers' on it so we know who he is, but the expectant crowd who'd been chanting 'Wee-zer/Wee-zer' in anticipation for the previous fifteen minutes already knew that, I reckon.
Rivers works the crowd well between the songs although it's difficult to decide whether his cheerleader antics are him being ironic or not. After all, there's always been a smirking element to Weezer, a feeling that Mr. Cuomo is a mite too clever for his own good, that distances a band capable of churning out top-quality choonage from a wider audience. He also loses marks for apparently (?) thinking he's on the same bill as Guns 'n' Roses and The Prodigy. Uh, Rivers, those bands are playing Leeds tonight, not Reading. But he knew that...right?
I was a little disappointed that they didn't play more tracks from this year's 'Maladroit'; opting instead for a safety-first set containing their hit singles, bookended by their first two smashes 'The Sweater Song' and 'Buddy Holly'. Maybe The Vines would have been a better bet after all, but later reports suggest they were only 'OK' too.
6.30pm was the time to catch up with my friends, and it was also at this time that the beers started to kick in and the clouds started to form. By the time Electric Soft Parade take the stage in the huge Evening Session tent there is a massive downpour, which means many of the assembled spend much of their time peering anxiously out at the weather rather than concentrating on the bands revisionism of Creation's early-90s output for a modern audience. But just as shoegazing was pushed aside by grunge, the more immediate appeal of the likes of The White Stripes, The Vines and The Datsuns looks set to leave the ESP in the shade. Which is a shame, but hey, life can be cruel sometimes.
The rain was still sheeting down so we went cold turkey on the alcohol and stuck around for The Breeders. They played a competent but unexceptional set where everyone seemed to be waiting in anticipation for the launch of 'Cannonball'; which when it happened was exceptionally good, naturally. I haven't caught up with their latest album 'Title TK' yet, but with the benefit of a Steve Albini production, I'm still willing to give it a try.
The rain then steadied down to a trickle, perhaps in recognition of the imminent arrival of the new! ecological! Pulp. Jarvis was his usual entertaining self, replete with dreadful puns (like I'm one to criticise, eh?). 'You've all brought loads of books with you, haven't you? 'Cos this is the reading festival, isn't it?' Er yes, Jarv, don't give up the day job, eh? And when his day job includes writing and performing songs as devastatingly brilliant as 'Babies', frankly why should he?
And so finally, The Strokes. With the hype bandwagon having transferred to the likes of The Vines this year, here was a chance to assess their tunes with a little more detachment and objectivity. And you know what? The songs sound better than ever, the opening chords of 'Someday' giving me more pleasure than I should probably readily admit, and the likes of 'Hard To Explain' and 'Take It Or Leave It' giving even the most jaundiced of observers the perfect opportunity to bounce around and act like an idiot. Jack White from The Stripes joined in for 'New York City Cops' and a birthday cake was produced for birthday boy J Casablancas who had to remain seated throughout the energised set due to his leg injury.
It was all very sweet: the moment that is, not the cake - I wasn't quite close enough to get a taste of that.
And that was that, apart from grabbing some food (yeah, eating, I knew there was something I'd forgotten to do) before taking a taxi outta there, and reflecting on the question: was this the greatest bill ever assembled for one day at a festival?
Not convinced? The just think about the bands I didn't get to see - aside from The Vines, there was The Moldy Peaches; The Soundtrack Of Our Lives; The Bellrays; The Kills; Peaches; Princess Superstar; The Reindeer Section; Aphex Twin and The Polyphronic Spree; all of whom would've made a great day out in themselves. Too many great bands, too little time...
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