The Green Man Festival 2008

Why do we put ourselves through this? Why do we religiously attend these UK festivals? Why do we battle through hell or (very) highwater and suffer dodgy cheeseburgers of dubious origin only to endure unpredictable weather extremes, often resembling conditions that make the battle of the Somme look like a teddybears picnic?

A very appropriate lyric may go some way to explain this madness.....'don't talk about it, if you ain't gonna do it.... don't sing about it if you ain't gonna do it ... don't write about it maaan if you ain't gonna do it....its rock 'n' roll and the message is, do it, do it, do it' (the Pink Fairies, 'do it'...  1971) ...well we did it (again), and i've still got the hangover (and trenchfoot) to prove it.

Yeah, its rock 'n' roll... and folk... and psych and folktronica and a shitload of other tronicas not yet invented... it's yet another inspired mudbath, sorry festival. If it's August, if it's mid Wales, if it's not sign posted and if it's raining, it must be the return of the Greenman Festival. Yes, my ongoing tour of country estates with added drug consumption continues apace, this time the spectacular Brecon Beacons... (didn't they support the cheviots on their 93 tour?) are the utterly gorgeous backdrop to this 10,000 capacity musical extravaganza.

This time we remember to take a tent but Arthur forgets his sleeping bag. I've bought an inflatable luxury sleeping mat but forget to bring any means of blowing it up. We brought a family pack of very moorish ritz cream crackers, but forget to pack some Wensleydale cheese. Yes it appears we have the organizational skills of Spongebob Squarepants on acid. Oh, and did i mention? I forgot to take my fairy wings.....but i do remember to take my trusty bottle of finest blend Scotch whiskey from the local Co op and look how easy it is to smuggle past security (bet they never thought to look up my arse).

Did i mention that there were some bands on?....War On Drugs not only have one of the best names in the business, but also a killer set list of loose, chiming guitar based jams, veering almost chaotically from one peak of distortion to the next. In my notebook i've written R.E.M. meets My Bloody Valentine and Can...mind you i had been drinking. It was during their set that i had a near death experience with a bee... I was enjoying my pint of Fosters when i took a mouthful and got stung on the inside of my lower lip. It was so painful i went to the first aid tent, hoping for morphine but merely given a a small white tablet to reduce the swelling. I was then told to fuck off by an ugly nurse, who remained ugly even after i had finished my whiskey, yes she was that ugly.....what's the N.H.S. coming to??  etc.etc.

Later we met Adam their frontman, who was a thoroughly nice chap and didn't seem to mind being assailed by two alcoholics, he gave us a copy of their new album wagonwheel blues (its terrific). I'm listening to it now and it bears no resemblance whatsoever to the band i saw Friday afternoon. I think i'm going mad. Look out for the band supporting the Hold Steady on their mini UK Autumn tour, that's gonna be one hell of a double bill.

Saw too little of James Yorkston. He was really popular and drew a good crowd, and regaled us with lots of jolly singalong folkiness.Yet another artist i must Google.

By the time the Fuck Buttons came on the clouds were gathering. Up to this point we had been rain free but there was an almost tangible feeling of ominous dread as heads turned heavenward. Big black fuck off clouds were heading our way and intended to piss on us from a great height. Before then though, let's welcome these two animated noisy buggers to the stage, no pretty Orbital - lite for these guys, we get the full on electro shock treatment, the first lengthy number went on for an eternity and was startlingly good, scary samples, machines going mad and with a really effective minimilist backdrop and light show, phew!...sonic headfuck time!...had to go for a walk and calm down. We met the lovely Sonia, a fairy who, when she's not doing fairy things, is a solicitor in Bath. My case comes up next Tuesday.

Black Mountain were disapointing, but i was in a minority. Bit too laid back for my tastes, so i went for a burger at a stall with no concept of giving the correct change.

Drive By Truckers seemed lost on the main stage and gave a slightly lacklustre performance, so thank God for the mighty Spiritualized... a revitalised Jason Pierce led his cosmic chums through a faultless, really tight set of symphonic space rock.

Anybody remember Gomez?....well about a thousand people on a beer strewn patio area seem to. Ben Ottewell (Gomez vocalist and geek-a-like) battled on through a mini tornado. He's a fine troubadour with a distinctive voice and yet another thoroughly nice chap......Notebook says 'Welsh bird trips over my chair and has hysterical laughing fit'.

When we get back to the tent we find that. a) we have pitched up next to the worlds loudest snorer and. b) on our other side are a bunch of Welsh kids who think its big and clever to stay up till 5am talking complete and utter bollocks.... After all, that's my job isn't it?

On Saturday morning we go in search of a traditional English breakfast. We can't find one, so settle for the Thai experience version of the aforesaid delicacy.... Two words.... foreign and muck..... Not cheap either, 7 quid if you include cup of tea. We steal the free bread.

We find ourselves gravitating yet again to the folkey dokey stage. Not only does it offer some protection from the elements but also has the best bands. A band called Brigyn turned in a faultless, classy set of mid tempo folk rock with lyrics sung predominantly in Welsh. They did a beautiful version of Leonard Cohens 'hallelujah'. A brave song to pull off at the best of times, but they did so with aplomb. It was very moving.

We were praying that Cate le Bon was no relation to Simon or we would have to go and have another Thai breakfast. Thankfully she was Duran Duran free. According to the programme she is a vivacious Welsh vixen. Well i don't know about that, but she and her band played some nice whimseydelica (patent applied for).

A more ballsy set came from the Yellow Moon Band who had RIFFS!...and SOLOS!.. Some very original instrumentals complete with feedback, inducing mandolin solo. An original and memorable set.

Went for a walk around the green field and met a radical midwife from the radical midwifery group. I asked her for an epidural. She told me to fuck off (can you see a pattern emerging here?!) ... Oh, and i nearly enrolled in a knitting class, but when i went for my first lesson their tent had sunk.

I wasn't expecting a lot from a group called Emmy The Great (where's these peoples imagination?...of all the words in the English language why choose, Emmy, the, and Great?)...I eat my words, they were fab, with some great lyrics and a nice piece of eye candy (Emmy, presumably?) on vocals and guitar....and they read out the latest football scores as well, which is always a good thing.

Time for my own personal transcendental time stands still, we are in the presence of greatness and i'm at the front moment. It comes at approx 9.30pm after a frustrating and lengthy wait while the guys sort out their gear. The remarkable Archie Bronson Outfit take to the stage. Looking like extras from a documentary about weird looking blokes who can't get girlfriends, they proceed to pummel the audience into submission with track after track of ultra fast genetically modified blues, kicking off with 'Cherry Lips' they never looked back....'Disco Dancer' did it for me, incredible!... Imagine the Black Keys meets Gang of Four with the laughing ghost of Robert Johnson looking down from heaven. It was utterly devastating. I don't want to have sex ever again, i just want to go to Archie Bronson gigs.

By the time they finish, people are building arks and swimming to the bar. We catch Richard Thompson who's dazzling virtuoso acoustic  guitar skills are a wonder to behold. '57 Black Vincent' and 'Valerie' were highlights.

Everyone Welsh grooved to the Super Furry Animals. I vaguely remember sitting on a hill listening to 'Rings Around The World' as raindrops dribbled down my glasses causing myriad tiny fractal lightshows in my eyes....(I knew I shouldn't have had a go on that bit of plumbing those two lads from Wigan offered me)...ooh, man, the colours etc etc.

O.K. music over for Saturday. Went to the bonfire and stared at some flames for half an hour and met some girl hobbits who were warming their tiny Hobbit arses. Went to the disco and had a quick freakout to Pink Floyd's 'interstellar overdrive'. Unfortunately the mud was now getting serious. There was a powercut. We met Sam Sam the Bubbleman (he's been on Blue Peter you know) and paid a brief return visit to the vinyl record store, where we stroked some old prog rock album sleeves (it's a bloke thing). Got back to the tent only to find snore boy still at it. I had a great nights sleep. Arthur on the other hand, woke up drowning. It was 9am, we drew up an exit strategy plan (operation bugger off quick). Yes we chickened out, as did loads of fellow revellers coz of the weather, but we still had had an absolute blast of a weekend and we didn't see one crap band. The people were lovely, apart from the nurse in the first aid tent!.... I now want everyone reading this to go out and buy an Archie Bronson album (there's only two). You'll thank me in the end.

Written by: John Haylock