photo courtesy nme.com
14.30 it's not real, it's just for fun!sounds from the frenzied teenie reviews at NME.COM that glasto achieved some sort of redemption last night, with the festival-friendly likes of magic numbers, rufus wainwright, arcade fire, new pornographers, gogol bordello, super furry animals, hot chip and the hold steady. plenty of reasons to steer clear of disheartening choices such as bloc party, kasabian and the arctic monkeys. substantial lumps of live footage at those links, pop pickers.
GMS opted out and went to see Taking Liberties instead. it let us know that the Blair government has quashed civil liberties that are, like, a thousand years old and shit. nice to see a revival of the anglo-saxon / kind arthur / magna carta recourses popularised by our 19th century forebears. word to feargus o'connor.
plenty of tried and tested michael moore moves, with literal theme music in abundance. interesting seen in conjunction with sicko, anyway - michael moore's roseate view of england is rebutted, but both films use the same montage / humour / polemic approach, both interview tony benn, both end up invoking thomas jefferson on how governments fearing the people = liberty, people fearing the government = tyranny.
good to see mark thomas out and about, getting around prohibitions on mass protests by having hundreds simultaneously protesting different causes. the film could've spent a little less time building outrage at familiar incidents, and little more time contextualising and offering suggestions as to why libertarian opposition to terror laws (represented here on the left by tony benn, and on the right by boris johnson) has failed to cohere into a significant political movement. the aggressive media response? internal divisions? what would the tories have done in the same circumstances? how do these moves compare to government policy during the troubles? the positive rationale for the i.d. card scheme was also left a galactic mystery.
14.45 back to glasto. looks like a bit of a struggle today.
Pyramid Stage
The Killers
The Kooks
Paul Weller
Lily Allen
Dirty Pretty Things
Other Stage
Iggy And The Stooges
Editors
Maximo Park
Babyshambles
Klaxons
CSS
Biffy Clyro
The Long Blondes
John Peel Stage
The Twang
Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly
Patrick Wolf
Bat For Lashes
The Pigeon Detectives
good lord. if CSS and patrick wolf clashed, that would make for one hopeless-assed line-up, especially if folk got up too late for pigeon detectives.
14.55 St. Ebbe's Primary School summer fete, Oxford - live review
GMS got its own mini-Glasto on, checking out the local school fete. the live band pulled some serious hold steady-style moves, with 'long tall sally' 'the midnight hour' and a rendition of 'hard to handle' that prompted some serious under-4s head-nod approval. ass hat's lovely escort made it rain at the raffle. fingers crossed. the prize on the golf game? 15 golf balls!15.10 seriously, watch the gogol bordello set.
15.15 the pyramid stage at night can make most bands look good. that's my story and i'm sticking to it. arctic monkeys - 'i bet that you look good on the dancefloor'
15.20 bjork's set may or may not be genius. impossible to say. or to read while listening.
15.30 bloc party look like a much more coherent live band than they were when GMS caught them several years back, which ain't rocket science. but more coherent, precise whiney nonsense isn't necessarily a good thing.
15.40 brakes and the long blondes cover 'jackson'. sigh. run out of digestive biscuits.
16.20 the super furries' set is gear, even if 'good festival band' is their meal-ticket these days. still, 1997>2007, as ten years back the furries' set was stage-invaded by pavement dressed as squirrels.
16.25 queens of noize are "interviewing" hot chip. brain bleeding out of ear.
18.25 a summer rain produces an abundance of tiny frogs in south oxford. frogs.
18.30 it's all kicking off: GMS heads to the local park to feed the ducks and coots. coots gotta eat.
19.00 nice swim in the local lido, followed by cooking: banana bread. unfortunately, we're missing holy fuck, but NME has it covered.
