Sunday, 28 August 2011


I genuinely much prefer watching festivals in the comfort of my own living room/ bedroom. Dry? Check. Warm? Check. Not squashed in a pit of drunk twats? Check.

Ok, now I have the privilege of my own duvet, and the safe knowledge of a lovely clean toilet should I need it, not covered in urine and stinking of yesterdays cocaine binge, I am ready to watch The Strokes.

The Strokes were, in their time, amazing. One of the best bands of my generation. Suddenly I'm 15 again and like SO excited. OH WAIT... It's ten years later, and yep, they've aged... I don't know why I was expecting them to look exactly the same? Why do we freeze our favourite film and music stars in our minds? Locked in an ice capsule. They become timeless icons, and beautiful forever. Or in this case, a slap of reality proves me wrong.

Now I do think Julian still has a fab voice, and the set was incredible, and as shallow as it is (as surely the music is obviously more important???) Julian looks like shit. Soz. I said it. Some people do "age" well... (ie, Jarvis) but others, yes, it is best you stick a pair of wayfarers on.

It was, however, incredible to see the songs on my teenage youth immortalised as classics. I'm so used to seeing bands perform their greatest albums from before my time. Magazine, Siouxsie, The Cult, Sisters of Mercy, Manics, Pulp, Suede... The list goes on. I never actually SAW them in their official HEYDAY. I just dreamt of what it would be like, and how exciting it would be to be there in the crowd for when they were young and beautiful. However, The Strokes, I was indeed there for the first time around, and despite the perils of age, they were amazing.

A great evening.... Now I can turn off my light and go to sleep NOT in a pile of someone else's sick. NIGHT NIGHT FESTIVAL GOERS.

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