After writing yesterday about the Cambridge Folk Festival line-up, they announced more names today. And they were more good names. I am being spoiled.
I really enjoyed Phillip Henry & Hannah Martin when I saw them and I love my Skinny Lister album, so now all I have to hope for is that there aren't lots of programme clashes when I get there in July!
In other news...I have been diagnosed with tennis elbow.
My arm has been so painful since the end of November/beginning of December I figured I must've pulled a muscle whilst being overzealous during a spot of wii boxing, or perhaps, as I'd spent a month of doing 12+ hours of sewing a day that I'd cramped the muscles in my arm & it would sort itself. Weeks passed, then more weeks and it hurt all the damn time so I finally took myself off to the doctor.
He gave it a bit of a poke, "it's not at all tender" I proclaim.
Well, that doctor, he proved me a liar. I yelped and yanked my arm away from him.
"Apparently it's tender there, let's never do that again" I suggest.
Then he held my hand as if we were firmly shaking hands, all was fine.
Then he twisted his hand.
I shit you not, I actually came out of my seat, tears sprang to my eyes and I felt like I'd been winded.
So. Much. Pain.
He may have handed me a tissue.
The last time I played tennis I was in school. The tennis courts were split into two lots, one on each side of a building, so our teacher could only be on one set of courts at a time. Someone was on lookout and the rest of us just sat around until the teacher approached our courts. The alarm was called and we all leapt up to commence playing tennis. In my haste to leap to my feet I stepped on a tennis racquet and impressively did a skid into the splits. It was not comfortable. I don't advise it. Anyway, that's pretty much the last time I played tennis. Or did the splits.
So it's quite impressive to have got tennis elbow.
I have tablets and if there's no improvement there's to be an injection.
If that injection is in any way similar to the injection for my carpal tunnel syndrome, I am not enthusiastic, but I'm less enthusiastic about the ruddy tennis elbow!
Showing posts with label Cambridge Folk Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cambridge Folk Festival. Show all posts
Wednesday, 5 March 2014
Tuesday, 4 March 2014
Festival Time
When they announce the line-up for my beloved Cambridge Folk Festival there's always a moment of trepidation, will the names be ones I've longed for?
This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Cambridge Folk Festival so I'd wondered if there would be some amazing names to mark it.
So, the line-up was announced a week or two ago & I'm thrilled!
I'd wondered if I'd get the opportunity to see Loudon Wainwright III again so when I saw his name I was overjoyed.
Also on the line-up are Ladysmith Black Mambazo, who I've been listening to for years & my gut tells me they'll be fabulous live.
The last time I saw Afro Celt Sound System they were superb so it's exciting to be able to see them again!
Cara Dillon has such a delightful voice, it's always wonderful to see her live too.
Then there's The Full English, a real folk supergroup, so they'll doubtless be excellent.
I'm also looking forward to seeing Pokey LaFarge, Sarah Jarosz and Lúnasa, so all in all it's shaping up wonderfully!
I'm really chuffed, the rest of the line-up will just be the icing on the cake!
Sometimes you need some good news & something to look forward to, so this was just what the doctor ordered!
This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Cambridge Folk Festival so I'd wondered if there would be some amazing names to mark it.
So, the line-up was announced a week or two ago & I'm thrilled!
I'd wondered if I'd get the opportunity to see Loudon Wainwright III again so when I saw his name I was overjoyed.
Also on the line-up are Ladysmith Black Mambazo, who I've been listening to for years & my gut tells me they'll be fabulous live.
The last time I saw Afro Celt Sound System they were superb so it's exciting to be able to see them again!
Cara Dillon has such a delightful voice, it's always wonderful to see her live too.
Then there's The Full English, a real folk supergroup, so they'll doubtless be excellent.
I'm also looking forward to seeing Pokey LaFarge, Sarah Jarosz and Lúnasa, so all in all it's shaping up wonderfully!
I'm really chuffed, the rest of the line-up will just be the icing on the cake!
Sometimes you need some good news & something to look forward to, so this was just what the doctor ordered!
Wednesday, 5 August 2009
Cambridge 2009
Thursday rolled around and it was time to pack the car, tick things off the list and make our way to Coldhams Common, put up the tent and make a home for the weekend.
Typically the rain kicked in just as we started to knock tent pegs into the ground, I hid under the Jeff's boot lid (my car, for them what is not in the know) waiting for it to ease off a bit. Until the rain started to come in sideways and then I took refuge in an already erected tent.
Once the tents were up, beds made we had our wrist bands attached and headed to the festival site. I had my traditional Nachos Grandee for tea, the sky looked like this:
Yet I managed to get rained on whilst eating, so there I sat, gnome-like under an umbrella, keeping those lovely nachos nice and dry.
I seem to remember very little of Thursday night, I know I saw or heard a little of Mumford & Sons. I know I decided that the purchase of a poncho would be a wise investment, in fact it came in very useful when it came to having something to sit down on as I waited for Ruairidh Macmillan to come on to Stage 2. It was also useful to the man next to me who seemed to wipe white paint off onto it and I thank him for that from the bottom of my heart.
We headed off to Stage 2 to catch Adrian Edmondson & The Bad Shepherds, who were great and are playing in Lincoln in the not too distant future so I will be getting myself a ticket for that gig I reckon. Their rendition of All Around My Hat was superb, in fact I'm going to see if a video of it exists for your pleasure. Here it is - go watch!
End of the night meant heading back to the campsite, grabbing a hot chocolate and sitting to listen to a few folk at the Coldhams Common stage. I think this is the first festival that I've sung along to Tie Me Kangaroo Down.
Friday means heading down to Sainsburys for a cooked breakfast before heading to the festival site to get a nice spot to enjoy the music from.
This is where things get ugly at the festival.
I wrote last year about the whole space issue. Some people want to sit on blankets, some people don't. Which is fine, so long as we can have a little live and let live. Have your blanket but don't be greedy with your space. Have only as much as you need to sit down. These days I don't have a blanket. I have a roll mat which I fold in half and is perfectly ass-sized. It stops the cold from the ground coming up and I take up only the same amount of space as I would without it, but I somehow feel guilty about it.
I don't want to repeat myself, but I really feel that people seem to enjoy the festival in two ways. There are the people that want to choose a spot and pretty much stay there all day, be that Stage 1, Stage 2, The Guinness tent or wherever. Then there are the people that want to wander, roam from stage to stage, catch different acts. I can't honestly say that either is better than the other. I tend to fit into the former group to be honest, which is what suits me. I'm sure it might be frustrating to some people but I don't always want to stand to watch an artist. Take the wonderful Cara Dillon, I absolutely love listening to her, but I don't need to be able to see her. I am prone to sit, eyes closed, just listening and I do so want to know why that's frowned upon!
Anyway, a spot was found on Friday, the festival opened with Genticorum, wonderful Quebecois music. A nice way to ease us into the day. Then The Shee, who I'd seen previously at Big Session in Leicester and enjoyed. Nice to see a harp on stage!
Then it was the turn of Edward II. I adore this band. Back in 1999 watching their farewell gig I could only dream that they'd come back and tour again. Here we are, ten years later and my dream is fulfilled! I danced and danced and danced some more. Absolutely brilliant!
The Waterson Family were on next and have more talent than is entirely fair for one family. I can't even play the tin whistle. It's not right I tell you!
I grabbed up my stuff and decided to head back to the campsite to dump most of it off in the tent as there was a ceilidh due to happen on Stage 2 and I do have such a love for ceilidhs. I didn't get to dance, although I did remember exactly how to do the Boston Tea Party, so that's two ceilidh dances I can probably get through without injury now! I caught Hayes Carll's set and loved it, checking my programme I saw he was doing the second set on Saturday on Stage 1 so had that to look forward to. Everyone else was hanging around Stage 1 so I wandered around the stalls, then headed to the Internet cafe, then off to the duck ponds for some quiet time, although ended up being stalked by a pair of swans. It was a little unnerving it has to be said!
I finally decided to head back to the tent where I could still hear the festival. I just didn't really have any interest in seeing The Zutons.
When I got to the festival on Saturday morning I overheard numerous mumblings that people felt The Zutons shouldn't have been part of the line-up, although from the cheering I could hear I'm sure that there are plenty of people that would disagree with that.
Saturday kicked off with Crooked Still who were great fun and Mum ended up hitting the CD sales to purchase one of theirs later in the day.
Next up was Hayes Carll and I enjoyed him all over again, although I was disappointed not to get a second listen of She Left Me For Jesus, the youtube comments would indicate that it's felt to be a little blasphemous by some and I apologise for that, but my goodness it made me laugh.
To carry on with a really fabulous day, Jim Moray was up next and was superb but I swear the "Bless you, bless you.." chorus is going to be stuck in my head for months and months. I was also a little amused by the reaction of the people surrounding me to his song Lucy Wan which I adore, but some of the traditional folkies were clearly totally unsure as to what to make of it. Excellent, you know you're pushing the boundaries when that happens!
The afternoon set was finished off with sets from Cara Dillon and Blazin' Fiddles. Bloody brilliant both!
The evening set started with Martin Simpson and as he's also playing Lincoln this year I'll be having to find some cash for tickets for that too. We decided to have a move and see what else was going on, ending up at Stage 2 just in time to get ourselves under cover before the rain started. It was heavy for a while and I could almost feel the mud starting to develop.
Diana Jones was playing and I really liked her voice, she was down to play Stage 1 on Sunday so I was looking forward to catching her again and making a mental note to add one of her Cd's to my collection. Then we watched Mairtin O'Connor, Cathal Hayden & Seamie O'Dowd who again should pass off a little of their talent to me, it's the right thing to do. Actually I'd settle for just being able to sing a bit to be honest!
For some reason we were wiped out and decided a hot chocolate was the order of the day. Not just any hot chocolate. Oh no. I'm talking hot chocolate, with marshmallows, whipped cream and a flake. It's chocolate heaven.
Sunday showed the toll that the rain had taken on the festival site.
There was plenty mud and a big truck with a giant vacuum sucking up all the water that it possibly could.
We headed back to Stage 1, Bella Hardy opened, wonderful voice and possible CD purchase.... Then Mairtin O'Connor, Cathal Hayden & Seamie O'Dowd were on again and just as good as the night before, followed by Diana Jones who did a song that I absolutely have to own - If I Had A Gun. I'm not sure there's a woman on this earth that song doesn't resonate with, as it was written during a conversation with girlfriends about ex-husbands and ex-boyfriends.
I watched most of the set by Lau before heading off for a brief wander to stretch my legs, check out the Internet cafe (which by the way needs much better organisation - I was hassled three times by staff whilst the woman to my right who was there when I arrived wasn't hassled at all, ranty rant.) I got back in time to see Jim Moray and once again enjoy Lucy Wan and ensure that "Bless you, bless you all of the pretty girls" was well and truly stuck in my head for eternity.
Made my way back to Stage 1 just as Eddi Reader was finishing, despite having seen her a number of times, I'm just not a fan and I don't know why as she has a lovely voice. Weird.
I did rather like Oumou Sangare though, and their dancers were superb. We'd met up with Geoff again from last year and he and I attempted the occasional mimic of some moves seen from the stage, none of which seemed to work well for us!
Then a few of us made our way to Stage 2. I had heard good things about Imelda May and decided to watch her instead of Paul Brady. For me, I absolutely made the right choice, we danced until we could dance no more. We danced so much a lady joined us just so she wasn't dancing alone. When some poor man ended up standing amongst us she scolded him that this was the dancing quarter and if he wanted to remain there, dance he must. And dance he did.
She was absolutely superb, we screamed for more, we couldn't help it, when faced with this, how could you not want more?!
I was also surprised after the gig, when I wasn't looking my sweaty best by a fellow Twitterer who had recognised me, turns out the red hair is more noticeable at a festival than I ever realised!
Spent the next while having a good old gossip and a fine old time with another lovely Twitterer (is that even the right terminology? Twitteree?) before finally heading to Stage 1 to catch The Treacherous Orchestra. I didn't know anything about them until Geoff told me they were made up from guys that had worked with Martyn Bennett and with The Peatbog Faeries, which instantly made them unmissable. I cannot begin to tell you what an absolutely fabulous time I had.
I had on my dancing wellies:
I rocked those wellies let me tell you. We jumped and bounced and danced and laughed and got hotter and hotter, sweatier and sweatier. It was the absolute best end to the festival. I could literally barely walk afterwards from all the leaping around, even now, on Wednesday, my legs are still sore, going up and down stairs is a slow process!
Do one thing - go here and have a listen - then tell me if that's what you imagine when you hear the term 'folk music'? Just make sure your volume is up as far as you can manage. That's my kind of folk music, where I can dance until I'm absolutely exhausted but so incredibly happy!
For the record I never got to use my poncho! Could have spent that money on a CD!
When I got home I had to thank my neighbour for looking after Mifford, so I made cupcakes, I had a few leftover. Cupcake anyone?
Oh wait, I have one more little tale to share. On Monday night I decided to upload the few photos I'd taken from my camera to the pc so I could do this blog entry. Except my camera wasn't in my bag. I pulled everything out, but there was definitely no camera. Shit. Shit. Shit. I went out to the car, you know, in case it had fallen out. No.
Tuesday morning rolls around, Mum takes my car keys and conducts a thorough investigation. No camera.
I have to go out and do some jobs but on my return, I ring the box office, they give me a number to call. I call said number, but lady I need to speak to is busy. An email address is given and an email is duly written and sent off.
Mum is away at this point, collecting my Step-Dad, Tim, from the airport. He's flown in from France and has brought with him Mum's old digital camera for me to use. In doing so apparently he made catching the flight a close call. So, my photos are gone but I am not without a camera.
I sit down on a footstool by my TV, I turn my head to the right, what is that silver flash I see?
Ooops. That would be my camera. Which has been sitting in front of the TV the whole time.
Do I email the lady again and confess to being an idiot? Or do I just hope she's really bad at her job and never gets back to me?
Typically the rain kicked in just as we started to knock tent pegs into the ground, I hid under the Jeff's boot lid (my car, for them what is not in the know) waiting for it to ease off a bit. Until the rain started to come in sideways and then I took refuge in an already erected tent.
Once the tents were up, beds made we had our wrist bands attached and headed to the festival site. I had my traditional Nachos Grandee for tea, the sky looked like this:
Yet I managed to get rained on whilst eating, so there I sat, gnome-like under an umbrella, keeping those lovely nachos nice and dry.I seem to remember very little of Thursday night, I know I saw or heard a little of Mumford & Sons. I know I decided that the purchase of a poncho would be a wise investment, in fact it came in very useful when it came to having something to sit down on as I waited for Ruairidh Macmillan to come on to Stage 2. It was also useful to the man next to me who seemed to wipe white paint off onto it and I thank him for that from the bottom of my heart.
We headed off to Stage 2 to catch Adrian Edmondson & The Bad Shepherds, who were great and are playing in Lincoln in the not too distant future so I will be getting myself a ticket for that gig I reckon. Their rendition of All Around My Hat was superb, in fact I'm going to see if a video of it exists for your pleasure. Here it is - go watch!
End of the night meant heading back to the campsite, grabbing a hot chocolate and sitting to listen to a few folk at the Coldhams Common stage. I think this is the first festival that I've sung along to Tie Me Kangaroo Down.
Friday means heading down to Sainsburys for a cooked breakfast before heading to the festival site to get a nice spot to enjoy the music from.
This is where things get ugly at the festival.
I wrote last year about the whole space issue. Some people want to sit on blankets, some people don't. Which is fine, so long as we can have a little live and let live. Have your blanket but don't be greedy with your space. Have only as much as you need to sit down. These days I don't have a blanket. I have a roll mat which I fold in half and is perfectly ass-sized. It stops the cold from the ground coming up and I take up only the same amount of space as I would without it, but I somehow feel guilty about it.
I don't want to repeat myself, but I really feel that people seem to enjoy the festival in two ways. There are the people that want to choose a spot and pretty much stay there all day, be that Stage 1, Stage 2, The Guinness tent or wherever. Then there are the people that want to wander, roam from stage to stage, catch different acts. I can't honestly say that either is better than the other. I tend to fit into the former group to be honest, which is what suits me. I'm sure it might be frustrating to some people but I don't always want to stand to watch an artist. Take the wonderful Cara Dillon, I absolutely love listening to her, but I don't need to be able to see her. I am prone to sit, eyes closed, just listening and I do so want to know why that's frowned upon!
Anyway, a spot was found on Friday, the festival opened with Genticorum, wonderful Quebecois music. A nice way to ease us into the day. Then The Shee, who I'd seen previously at Big Session in Leicester and enjoyed. Nice to see a harp on stage!
Then it was the turn of Edward II. I adore this band. Back in 1999 watching their farewell gig I could only dream that they'd come back and tour again. Here we are, ten years later and my dream is fulfilled! I danced and danced and danced some more. Absolutely brilliant!
The Waterson Family were on next and have more talent than is entirely fair for one family. I can't even play the tin whistle. It's not right I tell you!
I grabbed up my stuff and decided to head back to the campsite to dump most of it off in the tent as there was a ceilidh due to happen on Stage 2 and I do have such a love for ceilidhs. I didn't get to dance, although I did remember exactly how to do the Boston Tea Party, so that's two ceilidh dances I can probably get through without injury now! I caught Hayes Carll's set and loved it, checking my programme I saw he was doing the second set on Saturday on Stage 1 so had that to look forward to. Everyone else was hanging around Stage 1 so I wandered around the stalls, then headed to the Internet cafe, then off to the duck ponds for some quiet time, although ended up being stalked by a pair of swans. It was a little unnerving it has to be said!
I finally decided to head back to the tent where I could still hear the festival. I just didn't really have any interest in seeing The Zutons. When I got to the festival on Saturday morning I overheard numerous mumblings that people felt The Zutons shouldn't have been part of the line-up, although from the cheering I could hear I'm sure that there are plenty of people that would disagree with that.
Saturday kicked off with Crooked Still who were great fun and Mum ended up hitting the CD sales to purchase one of theirs later in the day.
Next up was Hayes Carll and I enjoyed him all over again, although I was disappointed not to get a second listen of She Left Me For Jesus, the youtube comments would indicate that it's felt to be a little blasphemous by some and I apologise for that, but my goodness it made me laugh.
To carry on with a really fabulous day, Jim Moray was up next and was superb but I swear the "Bless you, bless you.." chorus is going to be stuck in my head for months and months. I was also a little amused by the reaction of the people surrounding me to his song Lucy Wan which I adore, but some of the traditional folkies were clearly totally unsure as to what to make of it. Excellent, you know you're pushing the boundaries when that happens!
The afternoon set was finished off with sets from Cara Dillon and Blazin' Fiddles. Bloody brilliant both!
The evening set started with Martin Simpson and as he's also playing Lincoln this year I'll be having to find some cash for tickets for that too. We decided to have a move and see what else was going on, ending up at Stage 2 just in time to get ourselves under cover before the rain started. It was heavy for a while and I could almost feel the mud starting to develop.
Diana Jones was playing and I really liked her voice, she was down to play Stage 1 on Sunday so I was looking forward to catching her again and making a mental note to add one of her Cd's to my collection. Then we watched Mairtin O'Connor, Cathal Hayden & Seamie O'Dowd who again should pass off a little of their talent to me, it's the right thing to do. Actually I'd settle for just being able to sing a bit to be honest!
For some reason we were wiped out and decided a hot chocolate was the order of the day. Not just any hot chocolate. Oh no. I'm talking hot chocolate, with marshmallows, whipped cream and a flake. It's chocolate heaven.
Sunday showed the toll that the rain had taken on the festival site.
There was plenty mud and a big truck with a giant vacuum sucking up all the water that it possibly could. We headed back to Stage 1, Bella Hardy opened, wonderful voice and possible CD purchase.... Then Mairtin O'Connor, Cathal Hayden & Seamie O'Dowd were on again and just as good as the night before, followed by Diana Jones who did a song that I absolutely have to own - If I Had A Gun. I'm not sure there's a woman on this earth that song doesn't resonate with, as it was written during a conversation with girlfriends about ex-husbands and ex-boyfriends.
I watched most of the set by Lau before heading off for a brief wander to stretch my legs, check out the Internet cafe (which by the way needs much better organisation - I was hassled three times by staff whilst the woman to my right who was there when I arrived wasn't hassled at all, ranty rant.) I got back in time to see Jim Moray and once again enjoy Lucy Wan and ensure that "Bless you, bless you all of the pretty girls" was well and truly stuck in my head for eternity.
Made my way back to Stage 1 just as Eddi Reader was finishing, despite having seen her a number of times, I'm just not a fan and I don't know why as she has a lovely voice. Weird.
I did rather like Oumou Sangare though, and their dancers were superb. We'd met up with Geoff again from last year and he and I attempted the occasional mimic of some moves seen from the stage, none of which seemed to work well for us!
Then a few of us made our way to Stage 2. I had heard good things about Imelda May and decided to watch her instead of Paul Brady. For me, I absolutely made the right choice, we danced until we could dance no more. We danced so much a lady joined us just so she wasn't dancing alone. When some poor man ended up standing amongst us she scolded him that this was the dancing quarter and if he wanted to remain there, dance he must. And dance he did.
She was absolutely superb, we screamed for more, we couldn't help it, when faced with this, how could you not want more?!
I was also surprised after the gig, when I wasn't looking my sweaty best by a fellow Twitterer who had recognised me, turns out the red hair is more noticeable at a festival than I ever realised!
Spent the next while having a good old gossip and a fine old time with another lovely Twitterer (is that even the right terminology? Twitteree?) before finally heading to Stage 1 to catch The Treacherous Orchestra. I didn't know anything about them until Geoff told me they were made up from guys that had worked with Martyn Bennett and with The Peatbog Faeries, which instantly made them unmissable. I cannot begin to tell you what an absolutely fabulous time I had.
I had on my dancing wellies:
I rocked those wellies let me tell you. We jumped and bounced and danced and laughed and got hotter and hotter, sweatier and sweatier. It was the absolute best end to the festival. I could literally barely walk afterwards from all the leaping around, even now, on Wednesday, my legs are still sore, going up and down stairs is a slow process!Do one thing - go here and have a listen - then tell me if that's what you imagine when you hear the term 'folk music'? Just make sure your volume is up as far as you can manage. That's my kind of folk music, where I can dance until I'm absolutely exhausted but so incredibly happy!
For the record I never got to use my poncho! Could have spent that money on a CD!
When I got home I had to thank my neighbour for looking after Mifford, so I made cupcakes, I had a few leftover. Cupcake anyone?
Oh wait, I have one more little tale to share. On Monday night I decided to upload the few photos I'd taken from my camera to the pc so I could do this blog entry. Except my camera wasn't in my bag. I pulled everything out, but there was definitely no camera. Shit. Shit. Shit. I went out to the car, you know, in case it had fallen out. No.Tuesday morning rolls around, Mum takes my car keys and conducts a thorough investigation. No camera.
I have to go out and do some jobs but on my return, I ring the box office, they give me a number to call. I call said number, but lady I need to speak to is busy. An email address is given and an email is duly written and sent off.
Mum is away at this point, collecting my Step-Dad, Tim, from the airport. He's flown in from France and has brought with him Mum's old digital camera for me to use. In doing so apparently he made catching the flight a close call. So, my photos are gone but I am not without a camera.
I sit down on a footstool by my TV, I turn my head to the right, what is that silver flash I see?
Ooops. That would be my camera. Which has been sitting in front of the TV the whole time.
Do I email the lady again and confess to being an idiot? Or do I just hope she's really bad at her job and never gets back to me?
Monday, 20 July 2009
Craic
So here's what's been going on:
I had a weird dream. A really weird dream. Actually I had two, but the second one faded to nothing and I'm really cross I forgot it.
However the first one was superbly surreal.
I dreamt that I had a baby. It was a little boy, I don't remember naming him but a short while later I'd misplaced the baby. Careless and anywhere other than a dreamworld, a really terrible thing! Anyway, I had another baby, this time it was a girl. It was only a little while later and I seem to remember that mid birthing process I decided I'd have a sleep and finish off in the morning. Very realistic obviously. So in the morning I had a baby girl. I was really stressed out because I couldn't decide on a name for her. Then I found the baby boy and both babies turned into cats. Weirdly the baby boy turned into Mifford - especially as Mifford is a female cat. I was really worried that the baby boy/Mifford wouldn't like the baby girl/other cat, especially as I hadn't named her, but then Mifford starting licking the face of the other cat and I was ecstatically happy.
That's weird right?
My choice for a belated Song of The Week is coming up, damn this is a seriously sexy song, there was one video that had some superb photography but I went with this one instead.
Jace Everett - Bad Things:
I've been out in the garden quite a lot, eating almost exclusively every evening from what I've picked fresh from the vegetable patch. Salad is one of my favourite things in the world! Also I've had to put in new sowings of various things. I want my allotment!
Speaking of which.... I took a wander round the village to post back one of my lovefilm dvd's and as I passed the village noticeboard I paused to see what was posted there. I found myself reading, thoroughly, the minutes of the recent Parish Council meeting. I read the whole thing and what worries me most is that I found it quite interesting.
I got to read a bit about what is happening as regards the allotments and it's good to know I might still be in the running for a wee plot of land. Fingers crossed.
Someone ran into my Sky dish. I have a caravan as my prime suspect. What was really a pain was that it was going to take almost a full week to get it repaired. Again. It's sited in a ridiculous place and is frequently getting bash by high vehicles. Anyway, the delightful engineer arrived early on Saturday morning and moved the dish to a location that will require incredible ingenuity to be hit with anything at all. Oh how I missed my TV!
But, on the plus side, it did mean that I found time to sit and watch the entire box set of My So-Called Life. I am obviously deeply in love with Jordan Catalano again. What's rather disturbing is that, as this came out originally in 1994, I am now closer in age to the parents in the series than the kids. Crap. Back then, they were twice my age, now they're just 5 years older. Crap.
Oh, the other week I went to see the Battlefield Band! My last gig for a while, but on the upside I do have Cambridge Folk Festival in just over a week! Must be getting near the time where I have to start choosing my outfits! The weather forecast is not looking pretty so I suspect a lot of my outfits will be revolving around wellies. What looks good with wellies? Hmm? Anyone?
Yeah, nothing.
Can you even dance in wellies? This remains to be seen. Although to be fair, I'm not so sure that I dance so much as flail wildly and jump around. I'm not sure about my ability to dance a ceilidh in wellies though... what a shame there will be no video of my attempts.
I'm attempting to slowly take down my hateful conifer hedge. I don't strictly have permission to do so, so am attempting a very definite trim of the hedge in the hope it won't survive. If you feel like lopping off a few branches, please don't hesitate to pop over, for I shall not hesitate in handing to you the loppers! I'm wildly generous that way.
Mum is coming to stay for a while so I'll offer to let her cut some hedge too. See, my generosity knows no bounds.
Oh and finally, I have not sustained any new injuries! Remember that incident with the hand blender and my finger? The fingernail dropped off. Nice eh? Not in a gross way though - which is what I was really worried about. The slashed nail grew until finally it was too weak to carry on. It was a bit misshapen for a while but I think it's actually going to be ok, I'm sure that's a massive relief for everyone. I will have normal (ish) fingernails. Well, until the next time I do myself an injury that is....
I had a weird dream. A really weird dream. Actually I had two, but the second one faded to nothing and I'm really cross I forgot it.
However the first one was superbly surreal.
I dreamt that I had a baby. It was a little boy, I don't remember naming him but a short while later I'd misplaced the baby. Careless and anywhere other than a dreamworld, a really terrible thing! Anyway, I had another baby, this time it was a girl. It was only a little while later and I seem to remember that mid birthing process I decided I'd have a sleep and finish off in the morning. Very realistic obviously. So in the morning I had a baby girl. I was really stressed out because I couldn't decide on a name for her. Then I found the baby boy and both babies turned into cats. Weirdly the baby boy turned into Mifford - especially as Mifford is a female cat. I was really worried that the baby boy/Mifford wouldn't like the baby girl/other cat, especially as I hadn't named her, but then Mifford starting licking the face of the other cat and I was ecstatically happy.
That's weird right?
My choice for a belated Song of The Week is coming up, damn this is a seriously sexy song, there was one video that had some superb photography but I went with this one instead.
Jace Everett - Bad Things:
I've been out in the garden quite a lot, eating almost exclusively every evening from what I've picked fresh from the vegetable patch. Salad is one of my favourite things in the world! Also I've had to put in new sowings of various things. I want my allotment!
Speaking of which.... I took a wander round the village to post back one of my lovefilm dvd's and as I passed the village noticeboard I paused to see what was posted there. I found myself reading, thoroughly, the minutes of the recent Parish Council meeting. I read the whole thing and what worries me most is that I found it quite interesting.
I got to read a bit about what is happening as regards the allotments and it's good to know I might still be in the running for a wee plot of land. Fingers crossed.
Someone ran into my Sky dish. I have a caravan as my prime suspect. What was really a pain was that it was going to take almost a full week to get it repaired. Again. It's sited in a ridiculous place and is frequently getting bash by high vehicles. Anyway, the delightful engineer arrived early on Saturday morning and moved the dish to a location that will require incredible ingenuity to be hit with anything at all. Oh how I missed my TV!
But, on the plus side, it did mean that I found time to sit and watch the entire box set of My So-Called Life. I am obviously deeply in love with Jordan Catalano again. What's rather disturbing is that, as this came out originally in 1994, I am now closer in age to the parents in the series than the kids. Crap. Back then, they were twice my age, now they're just 5 years older. Crap.
Oh, the other week I went to see the Battlefield Band! My last gig for a while, but on the upside I do have Cambridge Folk Festival in just over a week! Must be getting near the time where I have to start choosing my outfits! The weather forecast is not looking pretty so I suspect a lot of my outfits will be revolving around wellies. What looks good with wellies? Hmm? Anyone?
Yeah, nothing.
Can you even dance in wellies? This remains to be seen. Although to be fair, I'm not so sure that I dance so much as flail wildly and jump around. I'm not sure about my ability to dance a ceilidh in wellies though... what a shame there will be no video of my attempts.
I'm attempting to slowly take down my hateful conifer hedge. I don't strictly have permission to do so, so am attempting a very definite trim of the hedge in the hope it won't survive. If you feel like lopping off a few branches, please don't hesitate to pop over, for I shall not hesitate in handing to you the loppers! I'm wildly generous that way.
Mum is coming to stay for a while so I'll offer to let her cut some hedge too. See, my generosity knows no bounds.
Oh and finally, I have not sustained any new injuries! Remember that incident with the hand blender and my finger? The fingernail dropped off. Nice eh? Not in a gross way though - which is what I was really worried about. The slashed nail grew until finally it was too weak to carry on. It was a bit misshapen for a while but I think it's actually going to be ok, I'm sure that's a massive relief for everyone. I will have normal (ish) fingernails. Well, until the next time I do myself an injury that is....
Sunday, 17 May 2009
Festivals
I've spoken before here and some where in here about the effort it takes to obtain tickets to the Cambridge Folk Festival, so knowing that the box office was due to open at 9am this morning, I set my alarm and readied myself for the inevitable online queue.
At 8.40am I went to the site, where it told me I could buy tickets from 9am. But there was no button to click!
Mum rang to make sure I was awake and ready to book.
I assured her I was and went back to relentlessly refreshing the page to see if a "Buy Tickets" button would appear.
I rang the BT clock to see if their time was the same as mine.
I might be a little anal.
9am rolled around, I refreshed the page, the button for tickets had magically appeared. I hurried to click it and was sent to a page advising that the box office didn't open until 9am! It was 9am, I'd damn well set my clock to Greenwich Mean Time!
I refreshed and clicked again, waiting for it to drop me into a holding queue or for the site to crash completely.
But no, I was directed to the page to buy tickets, I selected all the right options, entered credit card details and was done. All within a couple of minutes. I hadn't even made it to 9.05am. it was a real anti-climax.
Mum rang again and made conversation briefly before asking how I was getting on. I told her it was done and dusted, there was an almost splutter of disbelief. It was by far and away the easiest booking ever.
The only down-side is that I'm not even slightly thrilled by the line-up this year. Sure I like Bellowhead, Cara Dillon, Jim Moray, Blazin' Fiddles and Edward II but these are all acts I've seen many times, have regular opportunities to see or am seeing at other times this year. It's the first time I can ever remember not being at all excited by the idea of Cambridge.
Conversely, I am also booked for The Big Session and the line-up for that does have me buzzing. John Jones & The Reluctant Ramblers, Kathryn Tickell, Karine Polwart, Peatbog Faeries, Eliza Carthy, Oysterband, Levellers and Edward II. So you see, Edward II are playing both this and Cambridge - so whilst that's brilliant, I always hope to see something new at Cambridge. My hopes are that I will find new, unknown bands to fall in love with.
I've spent time looking at the line-ups at other festivals Beautiful Days has the brilliance that is The Imagined Village, as well as The Pogues and Hawkwind!
Trowbridge Village Pump Festival has Loudon Wainwright III - which made my heart jump when I saw that on the list, it made me desperately wish I could be there and then start to hope and pray he'd do some other dates whilst here, nothing has been announced, but I'll keep my fingers crossed. Trowbridge also have 3 Daft Monkeys, Luka Bloom, Seth Lakeman and Steve Knightley but the presence of Loudon is enough to excite me!
Larmer Tree will have Jools Holland, Ash Grunwald, The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain, The Imagined Village and Oi Va Voi all playing which is just an awesome line-up.
And playing at Wychwood are Oysterband, The Men They Couldn't Hang and The Dhol Foundation!
To taunt me further The Dhol Foundation, Shooglenifty and Seth Lakeman are playing at Solfest. It's a mean world out there.
However, I do have a ticket for Southwell Folk Festival, but only for the Friday. Damn financial constraints.
At 8.40am I went to the site, where it told me I could buy tickets from 9am. But there was no button to click!
Mum rang to make sure I was awake and ready to book.
I assured her I was and went back to relentlessly refreshing the page to see if a "Buy Tickets" button would appear.
I rang the BT clock to see if their time was the same as mine.
I might be a little anal.
9am rolled around, I refreshed the page, the button for tickets had magically appeared. I hurried to click it and was sent to a page advising that the box office didn't open until 9am! It was 9am, I'd damn well set my clock to Greenwich Mean Time!
I refreshed and clicked again, waiting for it to drop me into a holding queue or for the site to crash completely.
But no, I was directed to the page to buy tickets, I selected all the right options, entered credit card details and was done. All within a couple of minutes. I hadn't even made it to 9.05am. it was a real anti-climax.
Mum rang again and made conversation briefly before asking how I was getting on. I told her it was done and dusted, there was an almost splutter of disbelief. It was by far and away the easiest booking ever.
The only down-side is that I'm not even slightly thrilled by the line-up this year. Sure I like Bellowhead, Cara Dillon, Jim Moray, Blazin' Fiddles and Edward II but these are all acts I've seen many times, have regular opportunities to see or am seeing at other times this year. It's the first time I can ever remember not being at all excited by the idea of Cambridge.
Conversely, I am also booked for The Big Session and the line-up for that does have me buzzing. John Jones & The Reluctant Ramblers, Kathryn Tickell, Karine Polwart, Peatbog Faeries, Eliza Carthy, Oysterband, Levellers and Edward II. So you see, Edward II are playing both this and Cambridge - so whilst that's brilliant, I always hope to see something new at Cambridge. My hopes are that I will find new, unknown bands to fall in love with.
I've spent time looking at the line-ups at other festivals Beautiful Days has the brilliance that is The Imagined Village, as well as The Pogues and Hawkwind!
Trowbridge Village Pump Festival has Loudon Wainwright III - which made my heart jump when I saw that on the list, it made me desperately wish I could be there and then start to hope and pray he'd do some other dates whilst here, nothing has been announced, but I'll keep my fingers crossed. Trowbridge also have 3 Daft Monkeys, Luka Bloom, Seth Lakeman and Steve Knightley but the presence of Loudon is enough to excite me!
Larmer Tree will have Jools Holland, Ash Grunwald, The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain, The Imagined Village and Oi Va Voi all playing which is just an awesome line-up.
And playing at Wychwood are Oysterband, The Men They Couldn't Hang and The Dhol Foundation!
To taunt me further The Dhol Foundation, Shooglenifty and Seth Lakeman are playing at Solfest. It's a mean world out there.
However, I do have a ticket for Southwell Folk Festival, but only for the Friday. Damn financial constraints.
Wednesday, 25 February 2009
Interviewed
Where does the time go?
Seriously?
It does more than fly, it moves at some sort of Star Trek warp speed.
I have no idea what that means, I've never seen Star Trek, but I think it's quite fast....
Anyway, I have a cold. I'm happy to share it around if anyone would like one. It comes complete with my usual hacking cough and I'm willing to also pass that on. My generosity is a weakness.
So, the last time I was here I got my interview questions from Sleepydumpling and now that I have a moment to breathe I'm going to answer them.
This is such a brilliant idea, I love it!
Q1. What was it that got you started with blogging? And what keeps you blogging?
I remember way back in 1998 reading The Diary of V and absolutely loving it. It was a fictional diary and the word blog didn't really exist back then - or at least I never heard it, but I'd go and religiously check for a new entry to see what was going on with her, it was like reading a really long book and I loved the idea of it. It stopped being written back in 2006 and I think it was around then that I started reading some of the other blogs that were around, both fictional and real, slowly finding more and more and being a little envious of how funny people were! But I also really liked finding a group of people that wrote without resorting to txtspk and also knew how to spell.
I wasn't sure that I had anything to say, or even that I would be entertaining, or amusing, or in fact not fickle enough to give it up after the first week.
I started a blog on myspace, but found it really limiting and moved on over here where I could do a little more.
I enjoy the interaction with other people around the world, which isn't something you get to do everyday in normal life. I was always a little awed by other bloggers and really nervous of commenting on their blogs! But I've braved that this year and it's probably that which keeps me blogging, getting comments, knowing what I've written has been read and possibly enjoyed!
Q2. What did/do your parents think of your tattoos?
I think it's safe to say that in this case, actions would speak louder than words and the action would be a large frown! My body is mine to do with what I please but I think there was always a concern I would regret my decision to be tattooed. Maybe not today or next year, but possibly in another 30 years. I don't believe that I will but I also think that I can't hold off on doing something today because of an effect it could possibly, maybe, perhaps have when I'm elderly - so long as it's not bad for my health!
Q3. What would you say the greatest inspiration has been in your life?
That's a really hard one. I've been through psychotherapy and I think the realisation that who I am is just fine. I can be eccentric, unreasonable, angry, happy, wild, adventurous, loud, quiet, tattooed, scarlet-haired, ditzy, organised, opinionated etc, etc, etc, has inspired me to be whatever I want to be and not apologise for not being mainstream. That said, I've always rather revered those that didn't follow convention in some way. Back in my school years I remember learning about Albert Schweitzer and being amazed by this man, who gave up what could have been a very prosperous life to train as a doctor to go out and help with medical care in Lambarene. He was a vegetarian who reportedly lived surrounded by animals and this undoubtedly appealed to me. As did his work 'Reverence for Life'. I remember trying to memorise quotes for my examination essays and one with I think has been paraphrased through history is:
"I am life that wills to live, in the midst of other life that also wills to live, when I acknowledge and respect all life, then will to live becomes will to love"
Those words have always resonated with me, respect life.
Have courage to go your own way.
Great lessons and certainly an inspiration to me.
Q4. What is your earliest memory?
It's always been the same thing, my Dad coming to collect me from my Mum's house, usually quite late (by a small child's reckoning), I'd be wrapped in a blanket and put into the back of the car to head off for the weekend. I remember just feeling so sleepy, but warm. Always makes me smile!
Q5. You clearly love music. What would you say would be the songs that most define you?
You realise that this question makes my brain start to bleed a little? It's an incredibly hard question, there are so many songs with memories attached!
I think Lady Marmalade by Patti Labelle is almost the quintessential song. Although I don't use that name here, I've been Lady Marmalade online since back in 1996. I used to go to a good number of internet group meets and would be often introduced as Lady M. I swear Lady M almost became a different persona!
It was understood that if that track was ever played in a club my friends were obligated to go dance with me! By the way, I hadn't appreciated, when I chose Lady Marmalade as a screen name, that she was essentially a prostitute. That is definitely no reflection on my good self!
The song Black Betty by Ram Jam will always remind me of being a nanny, driving down the road, playing it loud, windows open with the kids screaming "BAM-A-LAM". (I can't tell you how my eyes are watering as I laugh remembering that!)
I suspect I've said this before but I think the band Oige was my first introduction to folk music and the first moment I heard them, I knew what I'd been missing from the music everyone else was listening to on the radio. It was like coming home, there was fiddle, bodhran, tin whistle and pipes combined with beautiful, beautiful songs. Cara Dillon was the singer in Oige and do have a listen to P Stands For Paddy which will forever remain one of my favourite songs.
Folk music was really such an awakening, I'm slowly trying to draw more people into it and there does seem to be a real movement towards it. When I started going to the Cambridge Folk Festival tickets took weeks to sell out, now it's hours.
Oh my god, as I was thinking about music and this question, a memory surfaced, I clearly remember putting this vinyl single on and then I had to jump around for the length of it. I wonder where all that energy went?
I swear I could go on and on with songs... but I'll restrain myself!
So I guess it's time... if any of you are reading and fancy a five question interview, just say so and I'll pop over (once I've had some inspiration) and interview - minus the overhead spotlight obviously.
Seriously?
It does more than fly, it moves at some sort of Star Trek warp speed.
I have no idea what that means, I've never seen Star Trek, but I think it's quite fast....
Anyway, I have a cold. I'm happy to share it around if anyone would like one. It comes complete with my usual hacking cough and I'm willing to also pass that on. My generosity is a weakness.
So, the last time I was here I got my interview questions from Sleepydumpling and now that I have a moment to breathe I'm going to answer them.
This is such a brilliant idea, I love it!
Q1. What was it that got you started with blogging? And what keeps you blogging?
I remember way back in 1998 reading The Diary of V and absolutely loving it. It was a fictional diary and the word blog didn't really exist back then - or at least I never heard it, but I'd go and religiously check for a new entry to see what was going on with her, it was like reading a really long book and I loved the idea of it. It stopped being written back in 2006 and I think it was around then that I started reading some of the other blogs that were around, both fictional and real, slowly finding more and more and being a little envious of how funny people were! But I also really liked finding a group of people that wrote without resorting to txtspk and also knew how to spell.
I wasn't sure that I had anything to say, or even that I would be entertaining, or amusing, or in fact not fickle enough to give it up after the first week.
I started a blog on myspace, but found it really limiting and moved on over here where I could do a little more.
I enjoy the interaction with other people around the world, which isn't something you get to do everyday in normal life. I was always a little awed by other bloggers and really nervous of commenting on their blogs! But I've braved that this year and it's probably that which keeps me blogging, getting comments, knowing what I've written has been read and possibly enjoyed!
Q2. What did/do your parents think of your tattoos?
I think it's safe to say that in this case, actions would speak louder than words and the action would be a large frown! My body is mine to do with what I please but I think there was always a concern I would regret my decision to be tattooed. Maybe not today or next year, but possibly in another 30 years. I don't believe that I will but I also think that I can't hold off on doing something today because of an effect it could possibly, maybe, perhaps have when I'm elderly - so long as it's not bad for my health!
Q3. What would you say the greatest inspiration has been in your life?
That's a really hard one. I've been through psychotherapy and I think the realisation that who I am is just fine. I can be eccentric, unreasonable, angry, happy, wild, adventurous, loud, quiet, tattooed, scarlet-haired, ditzy, organised, opinionated etc, etc, etc, has inspired me to be whatever I want to be and not apologise for not being mainstream. That said, I've always rather revered those that didn't follow convention in some way. Back in my school years I remember learning about Albert Schweitzer and being amazed by this man, who gave up what could have been a very prosperous life to train as a doctor to go out and help with medical care in Lambarene. He was a vegetarian who reportedly lived surrounded by animals and this undoubtedly appealed to me. As did his work 'Reverence for Life'. I remember trying to memorise quotes for my examination essays and one with I think has been paraphrased through history is:
"I am life that wills to live, in the midst of other life that also wills to live, when I acknowledge and respect all life, then will to live becomes will to love"
Those words have always resonated with me, respect life.
Have courage to go your own way.
Great lessons and certainly an inspiration to me.
Q4. What is your earliest memory?
It's always been the same thing, my Dad coming to collect me from my Mum's house, usually quite late (by a small child's reckoning), I'd be wrapped in a blanket and put into the back of the car to head off for the weekend. I remember just feeling so sleepy, but warm. Always makes me smile!
Q5. You clearly love music. What would you say would be the songs that most define you?
You realise that this question makes my brain start to bleed a little? It's an incredibly hard question, there are so many songs with memories attached!
I think Lady Marmalade by Patti Labelle is almost the quintessential song. Although I don't use that name here, I've been Lady Marmalade online since back in 1996. I used to go to a good number of internet group meets and would be often introduced as Lady M. I swear Lady M almost became a different persona!
It was understood that if that track was ever played in a club my friends were obligated to go dance with me! By the way, I hadn't appreciated, when I chose Lady Marmalade as a screen name, that she was essentially a prostitute. That is definitely no reflection on my good self!
The song Black Betty by Ram Jam will always remind me of being a nanny, driving down the road, playing it loud, windows open with the kids screaming "BAM-A-LAM". (I can't tell you how my eyes are watering as I laugh remembering that!)
I suspect I've said this before but I think the band Oige was my first introduction to folk music and the first moment I heard them, I knew what I'd been missing from the music everyone else was listening to on the radio. It was like coming home, there was fiddle, bodhran, tin whistle and pipes combined with beautiful, beautiful songs. Cara Dillon was the singer in Oige and do have a listen to P Stands For Paddy which will forever remain one of my favourite songs.
Folk music was really such an awakening, I'm slowly trying to draw more people into it and there does seem to be a real movement towards it. When I started going to the Cambridge Folk Festival tickets took weeks to sell out, now it's hours.
Oh my god, as I was thinking about music and this question, a memory surfaced, I clearly remember putting this vinyl single on and then I had to jump around for the length of it. I wonder where all that energy went?
I swear I could go on and on with songs... but I'll restrain myself!
So I guess it's time... if any of you are reading and fancy a five question interview, just say so and I'll pop over (once I've had some inspiration) and interview - minus the overhead spotlight obviously.
Tuesday, 5 August 2008
How Very Forgetful
Maybe it's the sheer ridiculousness of it, but I feel I should share my injuries as I seem to have forgotten to do so in the Cambridge review.
Well, not injuries per se.
I mentioned in a previous entry that my wrist was dodgy, well it was much improved due to lots of very sensible resting of said wrist.
Then I went to the festival. And clapped. A lot.
By Saturday the splint/bandage/support contraption was back in place.
Oh yes, I hurt myself clapping. It takes a certain kind of talent.
Today I went to the supermarket, I was amongst the vegetables, pondering on the broad beans and remembering the broad bean & pea risotto recipe I had stashed at home. I squatted to examine the low boxes and immediately squealed.
It would seem I have hurt the muscles at the front of my lower leg, the name of which escapes me. (It's been a long time since I took Human Biology.) Luckily my day-to-day life does not involve an enormous amount of squatting, so am saved from further agony!
I have an appointment tomorrow to see the doctor. Hilariously, for neither of these complaints. I ask you... I feel like a hypochondriac.
But, I found this lump in my neck and the ostrich approach is generally frowned upon.
Also, whilst talking to Mum over the weekend we discussed her recent surgery for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. She mentioned a couple of symptoms which rang very clear bells for me as I regularly wake to discover numbness in my hands. I'd always thought it was the whole hand, but she said it's never the little finger. I laid, chilling out over the weekend and realised only my thumb and first two fingers were numb. Oh good.
Always with the drama. Although, this is officially the first time I've had to book a double appointment to discuss a double problem. Is this the way of the future?
Still, they don't know my name at the surgery, which indicates I haven't been there too much... or the staff have bad memories? Or, when I worked in a dental surgery and remembered probably thousands of patients that I was a freak.
Yeah. I'm a freak.
As an aside, I managed to hurt the wrist on which my festival wristband was residing, so the splint contraption had to go over it. Now, viewing of said wristband is obviously essential to security staff. As I entered the festival on Sunday, I walked up to the security man, winked and quickly pulled back the Velcro to surprise him with a flash of orange wrist band.
His eyebrows raised as he said "I've never been flashed before!"
I like to create a few firsts.
Well, not injuries per se.
I mentioned in a previous entry that my wrist was dodgy, well it was much improved due to lots of very sensible resting of said wrist.
Then I went to the festival. And clapped. A lot.
By Saturday the splint/bandage/support contraption was back in place.
Oh yes, I hurt myself clapping. It takes a certain kind of talent.
Today I went to the supermarket, I was amongst the vegetables, pondering on the broad beans and remembering the broad bean & pea risotto recipe I had stashed at home. I squatted to examine the low boxes and immediately squealed.
It would seem I have hurt the muscles at the front of my lower leg, the name of which escapes me. (It's been a long time since I took Human Biology.) Luckily my day-to-day life does not involve an enormous amount of squatting, so am saved from further agony!
I have an appointment tomorrow to see the doctor. Hilariously, for neither of these complaints. I ask you... I feel like a hypochondriac.
But, I found this lump in my neck and the ostrich approach is generally frowned upon.
Also, whilst talking to Mum over the weekend we discussed her recent surgery for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. She mentioned a couple of symptoms which rang very clear bells for me as I regularly wake to discover numbness in my hands. I'd always thought it was the whole hand, but she said it's never the little finger. I laid, chilling out over the weekend and realised only my thumb and first two fingers were numb. Oh good.
Always with the drama. Although, this is officially the first time I've had to book a double appointment to discuss a double problem. Is this the way of the future?
Still, they don't know my name at the surgery, which indicates I haven't been there too much... or the staff have bad memories? Or, when I worked in a dental surgery and remembered probably thousands of patients that I was a freak.
Yeah. I'm a freak.
As an aside, I managed to hurt the wrist on which my festival wristband was residing, so the splint contraption had to go over it. Now, viewing of said wristband is obviously essential to security staff. As I entered the festival on Sunday, I walked up to the security man, winked and quickly pulled back the Velcro to surprise him with a flash of orange wrist band.
His eyebrows raised as he said "I've never been flashed before!"
I like to create a few firsts.
A Little Extra
Overheard at Cambridge Folk Festival:
"I've found that, no matter what happens, there's always beer."
"I've found that, no matter what happens, there's always beer."
Monday, 4 August 2008
Cambridge 2008
Here I sit. Cambridge 2008 is over, now the wait begins for the box office to open in May.
Although I'm not quite willing to give it up just yet and am listening to the highlights on the Radio 2 site as I tap away at the keyboard.
Eric Bibb is currently belting out a song and a very fine one it is too...suddenly seems so long ago I stood dancing to it, the cheers in the background may have been mine!
Midday arrived on Thursday, our scheduled departure time, we packed everything into the car. I still haven't mastered the art of packing lightly, I don't like sleeping bags so take a king size duvet. And a suitcase. And a Texan icebox. And. And. And.
We headed off and stopped for lunch on the way, which meant that we made our arrival at the campsite at the perfect hour. You see, there are two campsites for the festival. One at Cherry Hinton where the festival itself is held and the other a short bus ride away at Coldhams Common. I always camp at Coldhams as it means I can have the car right next to the tent - which stores all my crap which comes with my inability to pack lightly. Now, Coldhams Common is split into two halves, the first being proper Common ground, long grass on undulating ground with cow/sheep pats for extra interest. The second half is a playing field. Perfectly flat with short mown grass.
No prizes for guessing which half is most comfortable to camp on.
Tent was erected. Beds inflated. Wristbands attached. Programme bought. Bus caught.
We strolled onto Cherry Hinton. I felt the atmosphere and tried to decide what I was going to do. My one real prayer had been that Laura Marling and Three Daft Monkeys didn't clash. I examined the programme. Shit. A tough decision was going to have to be made.
I put it off a while as we wandered around the stalls, looked at the food, I stared longingly at the CD stall, wishing the bank balance allowed me to purchase almost everything on view.
Every Thursday I have Nachos Grandee. It's become a tradition and one that I dragged Mum into, although she wasn't unwilling! We managed to grab a table under the food marquee and a few moments later the rain started to fall.
When the food was consumed and the rain slowed we headed to the Club Tent to watch Megson who I enjoyed, a nice way to ease into the weekend. Then a man, well over 6 feet tall decided to stand smack in the middle of the seated crowd. There were yells of "sit down" from the back, eventually someone waded through the crowd, tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he'd mind sitting down as he was blocking everyone behind him. His response was a little impolite, needless to say he stayed standing. It's worth adding here what a sense of karma there was to see him escorted from Stage One by security on Friday night, and a sense of glee. Obviously.
After Megson it was time for Stage Two to watch Cherryholmes. Who were awesome. Absolutely loved them, but left in the middle to go back to the tent. I had made my decision, 3 Daft Monkeys were the choice of the night, so I had to drop off my bag and chair.
I returned and told Mum that we were going in. But she exclaimed, we've already been in the marquees. I shook my head. No, no, no. Standing at the back is nothing like standing in the melee at the front and it has to be experienced at least once. The difference in atmosphere in different areas of the marquees is distinctly palpable. So in we went... I'd decided that the Club Tent would be the safest melee to experience and it was excellent. I really enjoy Three Daft Monkeys, they're just such great fun. I'd heard the albums before I saw them live and love them even more now! I danced and danced and then danced some more. I was lovely and pink faced and a little glowing to say the least. Just the way I like it. Although, I must admit I saw Mum visibly flinch and her fingers fly to her ears when the whooping and whistling commenced at the end of the set. I love a good whoop I do.
We headed back to the tent afterwards and to the showers. There was a small queue, this was new to me, the late night showers used to be something I was totally alone in. Showers slowly became available and I let Mum go first. Another door opened, the gentleman emerging told me that the water was "a bit cold". That may have been the definition of an understatement. I have established where the glacial meltwaters are going - to that shower. I'm pleased I was still so hot from dancing otherwise I'd have risked hypothermia. I washed my hair, got dried and headed off to bed. I slept quite well, despite my habitually deflating airbed.
Friday morning. Off to Sainsburys for breakfast and to shop for lunch. I prefer to graze on salad and fruit than buy from the food stalls most of the time. It stops the fighting to get in and out of Main Stage. Breakfasted and shopped, we headed back to the tent, got ready and headed to the festival. We sat down, readying ourselves for the run for a prime spot. Midday rolled around again and we all prepared ourselves for the barriers to be removed, for the compere to come onstage and tell us not to run.
A short while later the barriers were removed and obviously we all sprinted to our spot of choice, settling ourselves in and waiting for the first band to make their way on stage.
First of the day was Mauvais Sort. High energy and great for a bit of dancing, wouldn't mind owning one of their albums!
Second was Cherryholmes, so I got to see a full set this time. The band is one family and every single one of them is an incredibly talented, accomplished musician. And I'm not a bit jealous. Ahem.
Third was Eliza Carthy. I love Eliza I do. Everything about her, she's just a natural on stage, loved by the whole audience and you can't help but warm to her. She came on stage and very obviously pregnant, at one point resting her accordion on the bump and announcing that she was not having a child, she was having a table.
I'd arranged to meet a couple of ladies from Facebook, and we were all sitting together as I related something I'd read on another blog. I'll call it the Lift Theory. Basically, it's a way of judging a person by how it would be if you were stuck in a lift with them. You just know that Eliza would be cracking to be stuck in a lift with!
I must say here that it was a real delight to have arranged to meet some new people. Cambridge is a notoriously friendly festival and I ended up chatting with numerous people over the weekend, seeing people I recognised from the years I've been attending. I'd originally contacted Pip and Emma on Facebook because they'd noted on the site that they were attending alone, something I'd briefly considered doing before Mum said she'd like to go, so I thought it would be really good to meet the brave folks that had gone for it.
Before the short afternoon/evening break was Michael McGoldrick Band. What I found most amazing about this was their fiddler had got stuck because his flight had gone tits up, so in desperation they'd rung another fiddler. He'd learned the entire set, that day, in the car to the festival. What a true talent!
The evening sets began and three of my personally most-anticipated acts were on.
The Waifs were superb, I remember how blown away I was the first time I saw them and that still stays. I love how they work together. What I think is really interesting is that they're brilliant with a band, just as they're brilliant when it's just the three of them. I find it almost impossible to pick a favourite song - unlike the woman who relentlessly screamed for them to do 'Gillian'.
Then came the Peatbog Faeries. Who I adore. I danced until I was once again glowing. Just excellent. I never tire of seeing them. What was quite special to me was that the last time I had the opportunity to see them live I was really ill, it was before I was diagnosed with gallstones but I spent that gig in agonising pain and being desperately upset I was missing them.
The next gig was Billy Bragg. Not one I was looking forward to if I'm honest, I saw him once before and it just didn't do it for me. But, I really wanted to see the Levellers who were on immediately afterwards. So, did I attempt an escape to go and watch someone else or hang around? I'm lazy, I chose the latter. Then he went and opened his set with 'World Turned Upside Down', damn it, I was starting to warm to him. A little later he did 'Sexuality', damn I knew that one too. He covered a Bob Marley track. Then to top it all he did 'New England'. I actually mostly enjoyed it. Who knew! I am surprised.
Closing Friday night were the Levellers. Before they came on I leaned in to Mum and listed the songs I wanted; England My Home, Liberty, Dirty Davey, One Way, Riverflow. I got them all. My wishes were granted. I danced and once again was left glowing and mighty hot.
Again we trundled back to the bus and to the tent, I once again braved the showers, this time leaving my stuff on the step outside, going in to check that the shower both worked and had heat. The first one was icy, so I moved on, turning on the second I felt the water start to warm so went and collected my stuff. I undressed and went to step under the water, noticing the fast rising steam. I decided this must be due to the cooler temperatures outside, then I felt the water and wondered if I was risking third degree burns by stepping into it. But, I showered and left with all my skin miraculously still attached to me.
Once again, I slept well, although waking early due to the deflated airbed and light coming into the tent. Another Sainsburys breakfast later we packed up our food for the day and went to find a spot to settle in for the day.
Saturday held a few unknown names and a few that I was looking forward to.
First up at midday was The Chair - an Orcadian band and they bloody rocked! I had planned to have a lazy start to today's music, but was forced to my feet by the need to dance to their fabulous tunes.
Second was Chris Wood, who gave me the opportunity for that lazy time.
The thing is with Cambridge, whether or not an artist is to your taste you can wholly appreciate the songwriting, the musical talent, their incredible talent.
Having just finished listening to the Cambridge highlights this Monday evening I have heard a myriad of comments about Devon Sproule who was next up on Saturday. I enjoyed her, but I wasn't wild about her.
This is something I discussed with various people at various times, we can have an artist that we both love. One gentleman I chatted to shared a huge love of Loudon Wainwright III with me, but we couldn't have disagreed more about Kate Rusby.
It's like each of us is two circles that interlock to greater and lesser degrees. The overlapping part contains the artists in common and the outer part the ones we don't share, I've yet to find someone that completely overlaps my circle and I never expect to.
Altan were fourth to the stage, I've seen them a number of times and always enjoy them. Mairead Ni Mhaonaigh has such a beautiful voice and I never, never tire of it. Along with that there are jigs and reels - perfect!
Then, before the evening set began were Bassekou Kouyate & Ngoni Ba. Absolutely brilliant, one thing about Cambridge is that the artists really always appear to enjoy being on stage. This was particularly true of one of the band members here who was flinging his legs around with gay abandon whilst wearing possibly the most enormous grin I've ever seen.
The evening set kicked off with Eric Bibb, who is really a consummate performer and wonderfully easy on stage. I'd met up again with Emma and she loved him too, debating whether to see Martha Wainwright who was up next or to head off to get a signature from Eric Bibb. Mr Bibb won the toss and as a result I too have a signed programme! Hurrah! Thank you very kindly for that Emma! I just turned to that page in my programme to look at it and had a huge grin to myself.
Martha took the stage and I thought she was wonderful. It's such a change to come from not enjoying her at all the first time I saw her live to now feeling like I could listen to her for hours. I loved her version of Stormy Weather. I love her confidence on stage and I think that's what has made the difference. I also loved that she covered one of Loudon's tracks - Pretty Good Day, which is a really beautiful, powerful track.
Next was Allen Toussaint, someone who has been around a long time, written so many songs that you know so well, but without appreciating where they originated. The current Boots advert? With the 'Here come the girls' song? That's his. That classic 'Working In The Coal Mine'? His. Along with so many more. Once again someone born to be on the stage, wonderful.
Fourth was k. d. lang. I wasn't sure what to expect from her.
On Friday Mum and I had been chatting away to a gent called Geoff/Jeff (I'm sorry if you're out there that I didn't check the spelling!) We'd joked a little about the fact he'd injured his leg and wasn't able to dance and bounce around as he'd wanted. I felt I should maybe do my bouncing behind him so he wasn't tormented by having to gently bop.
Anyway, I digress, J/Geoff and I were stood a couple of people apart when he caught my eye, a few songs into k. d. lang's set. He put the palms of his hands together, put his hands to the side of his head and pretended to sleep. His thoughts matched mine perfectly and I chuckled, the chuckle became a snort, became a full on guffaw. Which transmogrified into an intense coughing fit, which I'm not sure was appreciated by the people around me who appeared to be enjoying Ms Lang. I wasn't really enjoying the songs. I'll admit that she was very funny, her balletic leaps were something I could also achieve, in their non-balletic-ness. However, then she went and did Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. I adore that song, it's so phenomenally beautiful. I've heard it sung by a number of people and it's never anything less than beautiful. She finished off with a hoedown which was just brilliant and I sort of wish that was how her whole set had been.
The evening ended with The Imagined Village. Abso-fuckling-lutely-brilliant. I mean, you get Eliza Carthy, Martin Carthy, Sheila Chandra, Billy Bragg, Johnny Kalsi just for starters - it can only get better and better. I believe in total there were 17 on stage and added to that a huge video screen. At some point an idiotic woman shouted something along the lines of "Shut the hell up and sing us a song", she could be heard whining that the video was shit or suchlike. Then speaking to someone immediately in front of me she yelled "I'm sick of this wank, I'm leaving". I bit my lip and resisted the urge to trip her on the way out.
I fucking love this:
Although I'm not quite willing to give it up just yet and am listening to the highlights on the Radio 2 site as I tap away at the keyboard.
Eric Bibb is currently belting out a song and a very fine one it is too...suddenly seems so long ago I stood dancing to it, the cheers in the background may have been mine!
Midday arrived on Thursday, our scheduled departure time, we packed everything into the car. I still haven't mastered the art of packing lightly, I don't like sleeping bags so take a king size duvet. And a suitcase. And a Texan icebox. And. And. And.
We headed off and stopped for lunch on the way, which meant that we made our arrival at the campsite at the perfect hour. You see, there are two campsites for the festival. One at Cherry Hinton where the festival itself is held and the other a short bus ride away at Coldhams Common. I always camp at Coldhams as it means I can have the car right next to the tent - which stores all my crap which comes with my inability to pack lightly. Now, Coldhams Common is split into two halves, the first being proper Common ground, long grass on undulating ground with cow/sheep pats for extra interest. The second half is a playing field. Perfectly flat with short mown grass.
No prizes for guessing which half is most comfortable to camp on.
Tent was erected. Beds inflated. Wristbands attached. Programme bought. Bus caught.
We strolled onto Cherry Hinton. I felt the atmosphere and tried to decide what I was going to do. My one real prayer had been that Laura Marling and Three Daft Monkeys didn't clash. I examined the programme. Shit. A tough decision was going to have to be made.
I put it off a while as we wandered around the stalls, looked at the food, I stared longingly at the CD stall, wishing the bank balance allowed me to purchase almost everything on view.
Every Thursday I have Nachos Grandee. It's become a tradition and one that I dragged Mum into, although she wasn't unwilling! We managed to grab a table under the food marquee and a few moments later the rain started to fall.
When the food was consumed and the rain slowed we headed to the Club Tent to watch Megson who I enjoyed, a nice way to ease into the weekend. Then a man, well over 6 feet tall decided to stand smack in the middle of the seated crowd. There were yells of "sit down" from the back, eventually someone waded through the crowd, tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he'd mind sitting down as he was blocking everyone behind him. His response was a little impolite, needless to say he stayed standing. It's worth adding here what a sense of karma there was to see him escorted from Stage One by security on Friday night, and a sense of glee. Obviously.
After Megson it was time for Stage Two to watch Cherryholmes. Who were awesome. Absolutely loved them, but left in the middle to go back to the tent. I had made my decision, 3 Daft Monkeys were the choice of the night, so I had to drop off my bag and chair.
I returned and told Mum that we were going in. But she exclaimed, we've already been in the marquees. I shook my head. No, no, no. Standing at the back is nothing like standing in the melee at the front and it has to be experienced at least once. The difference in atmosphere in different areas of the marquees is distinctly palpable. So in we went... I'd decided that the Club Tent would be the safest melee to experience and it was excellent. I really enjoy Three Daft Monkeys, they're just such great fun. I'd heard the albums before I saw them live and love them even more now! I danced and danced and then danced some more. I was lovely and pink faced and a little glowing to say the least. Just the way I like it. Although, I must admit I saw Mum visibly flinch and her fingers fly to her ears when the whooping and whistling commenced at the end of the set. I love a good whoop I do.
We headed back to the tent afterwards and to the showers. There was a small queue, this was new to me, the late night showers used to be something I was totally alone in. Showers slowly became available and I let Mum go first. Another door opened, the gentleman emerging told me that the water was "a bit cold". That may have been the definition of an understatement. I have established where the glacial meltwaters are going - to that shower. I'm pleased I was still so hot from dancing otherwise I'd have risked hypothermia. I washed my hair, got dried and headed off to bed. I slept quite well, despite my habitually deflating airbed.
Friday morning. Off to Sainsburys for breakfast and to shop for lunch. I prefer to graze on salad and fruit than buy from the food stalls most of the time. It stops the fighting to get in and out of Main Stage. Breakfasted and shopped, we headed back to the tent, got ready and headed to the festival. We sat down, readying ourselves for the run for a prime spot. Midday rolled around again and we all prepared ourselves for the barriers to be removed, for the compere to come onstage and tell us not to run.
A short while later the barriers were removed and obviously we all sprinted to our spot of choice, settling ourselves in and waiting for the first band to make their way on stage.
First of the day was Mauvais Sort. High energy and great for a bit of dancing, wouldn't mind owning one of their albums!
Second was Cherryholmes, so I got to see a full set this time. The band is one family and every single one of them is an incredibly talented, accomplished musician. And I'm not a bit jealous. Ahem.
Third was Eliza Carthy. I love Eliza I do. Everything about her, she's just a natural on stage, loved by the whole audience and you can't help but warm to her. She came on stage and very obviously pregnant, at one point resting her accordion on the bump and announcing that she was not having a child, she was having a table.
I'd arranged to meet a couple of ladies from Facebook, and we were all sitting together as I related something I'd read on another blog. I'll call it the Lift Theory. Basically, it's a way of judging a person by how it would be if you were stuck in a lift with them. You just know that Eliza would be cracking to be stuck in a lift with!
I must say here that it was a real delight to have arranged to meet some new people. Cambridge is a notoriously friendly festival and I ended up chatting with numerous people over the weekend, seeing people I recognised from the years I've been attending. I'd originally contacted Pip and Emma on Facebook because they'd noted on the site that they were attending alone, something I'd briefly considered doing before Mum said she'd like to go, so I thought it would be really good to meet the brave folks that had gone for it.
Before the short afternoon/evening break was Michael McGoldrick Band. What I found most amazing about this was their fiddler had got stuck because his flight had gone tits up, so in desperation they'd rung another fiddler. He'd learned the entire set, that day, in the car to the festival. What a true talent!
The evening sets began and three of my personally most-anticipated acts were on.
The Waifs were superb, I remember how blown away I was the first time I saw them and that still stays. I love how they work together. What I think is really interesting is that they're brilliant with a band, just as they're brilliant when it's just the three of them. I find it almost impossible to pick a favourite song - unlike the woman who relentlessly screamed for them to do 'Gillian'.
Then came the Peatbog Faeries. Who I adore. I danced until I was once again glowing. Just excellent. I never tire of seeing them. What was quite special to me was that the last time I had the opportunity to see them live I was really ill, it was before I was diagnosed with gallstones but I spent that gig in agonising pain and being desperately upset I was missing them.
The next gig was Billy Bragg. Not one I was looking forward to if I'm honest, I saw him once before and it just didn't do it for me. But, I really wanted to see the Levellers who were on immediately afterwards. So, did I attempt an escape to go and watch someone else or hang around? I'm lazy, I chose the latter. Then he went and opened his set with 'World Turned Upside Down', damn it, I was starting to warm to him. A little later he did 'Sexuality', damn I knew that one too. He covered a Bob Marley track. Then to top it all he did 'New England'. I actually mostly enjoyed it. Who knew! I am surprised.
Closing Friday night were the Levellers. Before they came on I leaned in to Mum and listed the songs I wanted; England My Home, Liberty, Dirty Davey, One Way, Riverflow. I got them all. My wishes were granted. I danced and once again was left glowing and mighty hot.
Again we trundled back to the bus and to the tent, I once again braved the showers, this time leaving my stuff on the step outside, going in to check that the shower both worked and had heat. The first one was icy, so I moved on, turning on the second I felt the water start to warm so went and collected my stuff. I undressed and went to step under the water, noticing the fast rising steam. I decided this must be due to the cooler temperatures outside, then I felt the water and wondered if I was risking third degree burns by stepping into it. But, I showered and left with all my skin miraculously still attached to me.
Once again, I slept well, although waking early due to the deflated airbed and light coming into the tent. Another Sainsburys breakfast later we packed up our food for the day and went to find a spot to settle in for the day.
Saturday held a few unknown names and a few that I was looking forward to.
First up at midday was The Chair - an Orcadian band and they bloody rocked! I had planned to have a lazy start to today's music, but was forced to my feet by the need to dance to their fabulous tunes.
Second was Chris Wood, who gave me the opportunity for that lazy time.
The thing is with Cambridge, whether or not an artist is to your taste you can wholly appreciate the songwriting, the musical talent, their incredible talent.
Having just finished listening to the Cambridge highlights this Monday evening I have heard a myriad of comments about Devon Sproule who was next up on Saturday. I enjoyed her, but I wasn't wild about her.
This is something I discussed with various people at various times, we can have an artist that we both love. One gentleman I chatted to shared a huge love of Loudon Wainwright III with me, but we couldn't have disagreed more about Kate Rusby.
It's like each of us is two circles that interlock to greater and lesser degrees. The overlapping part contains the artists in common and the outer part the ones we don't share, I've yet to find someone that completely overlaps my circle and I never expect to.
Altan were fourth to the stage, I've seen them a number of times and always enjoy them. Mairead Ni Mhaonaigh has such a beautiful voice and I never, never tire of it. Along with that there are jigs and reels - perfect!
Then, before the evening set began were Bassekou Kouyate & Ngoni Ba. Absolutely brilliant, one thing about Cambridge is that the artists really always appear to enjoy being on stage. This was particularly true of one of the band members here who was flinging his legs around with gay abandon whilst wearing possibly the most enormous grin I've ever seen.
The evening set kicked off with Eric Bibb, who is really a consummate performer and wonderfully easy on stage. I'd met up again with Emma and she loved him too, debating whether to see Martha Wainwright who was up next or to head off to get a signature from Eric Bibb. Mr Bibb won the toss and as a result I too have a signed programme! Hurrah! Thank you very kindly for that Emma! I just turned to that page in my programme to look at it and had a huge grin to myself.
Martha took the stage and I thought she was wonderful. It's such a change to come from not enjoying her at all the first time I saw her live to now feeling like I could listen to her for hours. I loved her version of Stormy Weather. I love her confidence on stage and I think that's what has made the difference. I also loved that she covered one of Loudon's tracks - Pretty Good Day, which is a really beautiful, powerful track.
Next was Allen Toussaint, someone who has been around a long time, written so many songs that you know so well, but without appreciating where they originated. The current Boots advert? With the 'Here come the girls' song? That's his. That classic 'Working In The Coal Mine'? His. Along with so many more. Once again someone born to be on the stage, wonderful.
Fourth was k. d. lang. I wasn't sure what to expect from her.
On Friday Mum and I had been chatting away to a gent called Geoff/Jeff (I'm sorry if you're out there that I didn't check the spelling!) We'd joked a little about the fact he'd injured his leg and wasn't able to dance and bounce around as he'd wanted. I felt I should maybe do my bouncing behind him so he wasn't tormented by having to gently bop.
Anyway, I digress, J/Geoff and I were stood a couple of people apart when he caught my eye, a few songs into k. d. lang's set. He put the palms of his hands together, put his hands to the side of his head and pretended to sleep. His thoughts matched mine perfectly and I chuckled, the chuckle became a snort, became a full on guffaw. Which transmogrified into an intense coughing fit, which I'm not sure was appreciated by the people around me who appeared to be enjoying Ms Lang. I wasn't really enjoying the songs. I'll admit that she was very funny, her balletic leaps were something I could also achieve, in their non-balletic-ness. However, then she went and did Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. I adore that song, it's so phenomenally beautiful. I've heard it sung by a number of people and it's never anything less than beautiful. She finished off with a hoedown which was just brilliant and I sort of wish that was how her whole set had been.
The evening ended with The Imagined Village. Abso-fuckling-lutely-brilliant. I mean, you get Eliza Carthy, Martin Carthy, Sheila Chandra, Billy Bragg, Johnny Kalsi just for starters - it can only get better and better. I believe in total there were 17 on stage and added to that a huge video screen. At some point an idiotic woman shouted something along the lines of "Shut the hell up and sing us a song", she could be heard whining that the video was shit or suchlike. Then speaking to someone immediately in front of me she yelled "I'm sick of this wank, I'm leaving". I bit my lip and resisted the urge to trip her on the way out.
I fucking love this:
I can't finish this entry without a link to this. It blew my mind, I have to have this album!
So, Saturday also finished on a high.
We walked back to the campsite - it's further than you think when you're tired and your wellies hurt!
I grabbed my towel and headed off for a shower lottery.
I found a working one and immediately felt a lot like Goldilocks.
The first had been too cold.
The second had been too hot.
The last one was just right.
I got back to the tent, Mum was still in the shower. I was hanging my towel over a tent pole when a shout behind me got my attention. I looked up and watched the announced streaker run past my tent. Yes, a totally naked man skipped gleefully down the grass road between the tents. Now I've seen some things at Cambridge, but that's officially my first streaker.
Another good, if short, nights sleep. Thank goodness for ear plugs! But not so much for deflating air beds.
Sunday meant packing up the tent, moving the car down the road so we'd be ready to go at the end of the festival. Mum was still sleeping soundly as I let the (little) remaining air out of my airbed, folded my bedding and clothing, only finally waking her as I exited the tent. We got the tent packed up just as the rain started again, trundled off to park the car before parking ourselves once again ready for another full day. It was a real delight to know that I wasn't going to have to leave early. We mounted the bus, headed to the back (you get the best breeze from the windows), we exited the car park. We turned right. Ooops. The festival is left. We got on the wrong bus. We did a total circuit, going back where we came from before returning to the car park and then finally moving on to the festival. Mum insists we were all sheep for following her blithely.
The only thing I have to say is: Baa.
Despite having really loved The Imagined Village, I didn't feel I'd found my band of the festival and felt bizarrely disheartened about that. I'd liked the acts of course, but most I already knew, I like the discovery of a new love, a new infatuation.
First on stage was Lisa Knapp. I said to J/Geoff that whilst I didn't mean it to sound insulting, she made me want to sleep. Not that she was boring but that her songs had a lullaby quality to them. Knapp in name, nap in nature.
Beoga were next, good for a bit of a jig about too, but they haven't stuck in my mind, nor has Tim O'Brien who followed.
Next was Karine Polwart whose songs are really beautifully written and whom I always enjoy.
The very delicious Seth Lakeman was there for our wonderful entertainment next. Emma joined us again to watch him, because really, watching Seth play Kitty Jay. It may be all I need. I adore the fiddle and the way he ends Kitty Jay when he plays it live never, never fails to make me unconsciously hold my breath.
The evening began with Judy Collins, who is another legend in the business, having been around for so very long, but, whilst I know she had a lovely voice, it didn't do it for me.
John Hiatt had been replaced by Richard Hawley in the line-up due to an illness in the family of the former. I was quite looking forward to Mr Hawley after I read that he was in Longpigs and Pulp, but I found the only reason I was dancing was because I was cold. He said he had been incredibly nervous before the set, thinking that he was going to be pelted with missiles because we'd all hate him. I definitely didn't hate him, I thought the guitar playing was superb, but sometimes there's just not a hook there for you.
I was left with two more artists to go. Still no band of the festival and I already knew the next one to hit the stage.
Joan Armatrading. A legend in her lifetime. A woman in the audience yelled, in every break between songs "I love youuuuuuu". After the half-dozenth announcement of adoration, Joan leant into the mike and simply said "You're starting to scare me". Much chuckling followed. Although the declarations of love did not stop.
Sadly, midway through this set a group of revellers deposited themselves immediately behind us and proceeded to hold a yelled conversation. J/Geoff and I exchanged glances and rolled eyes. After a moment J/Geoff turned and politely asked them to lower their voices. I heard the tone of the response rather than the actual words. Then I heard J/Geoff say "I said excuse me". To which the ignorant idiot responded "And I said Fuck Off". At which point, all 5'1" of me waded in with a very loud "Oi!" I mean really, there were four of them. One of these days I will end up in hotter water than the shower of night two. I said they'd been asked politely to be quiet, we'd been nice. It went quiet for a short moment or two before the yelled conversation kicked off again. The woman immediately behind me issued a loud "Shhh" and was again responded to with a loud "Fuck Off". Nice. Security? Anywhere? Not on your nelly.
After berating us a little further they strode further into the crowd and apparently annoyed a few folks in front of us judging by the irate gesturing.
Finally, we could enjoy Joan.
Or maybe not.
Maybe we'd need to attempt a rescue on the drunken falling over man.
Who fell asleep in the middle of the crowd. Two attempts to get security to address it resulted in nothing but the obvious lack of training in the staff there which was a real shame. He was almost kicked in the head more times than I care to remember, it was dark, we were about to enter the last set, thousands of people would be leaving. The risks of someone getting hurt, in a minor or major way were high. Still they refused to move him. Mum promises to be issuing the festival with a formal complaint. Real shame.
Finally....Closing the festival was Kila. They'd played Stage Two the previous night but I hadn't caught them as I hadn't really left Stage One.
The last band. Just when I'd given up hope. I found my band of the festival.
Blew. My. Mind.
Mum and I had planned to leave a little early in order to miss the bus queue. Then, before I knew it, the compere was on stage saying it was all over.
But I wasn't done dancing. I screamed, whooped and yelled for more. Mum distinctly leaned away from me and my decibels.
No more was forthcoming. Joan Armatrading had run late, cutting down Kila's time on stage as the festival has to hit curfew to be able to continue.
I left on a real high, thrilled that I'd had such an incredible end to the weekend.
I hugged J/Geoff goodbye, having said farewell to Emma earlier that day, vowing to keep in touch and get some festivals in together, which would be absolutely fabulous! I promised to see J/Geoff next year in the same spot!
We mounted the bus, having to stand. A trio stood near us, one of them wanting to stand near the ceiling handles. I said I'd move if he promised to do some acrobatics. He advised me I'd be able to see him in London 2012 doing just that. Bus olympics? A sport you never before imagined. He then asked me how the Steve Winwood version of Valerie went, going on to say that he didn't mean the Zutons version. Which was of course then the only version my brain would allow me to hear. Somehow that conversation morphed into comments on Valerie Singleton, which morphed into leg warmers, which morphed into a rendition of Olivia Newton John's 'Let's get physical', which morphed into 'Sue Lawley'. (Say what you like, it's clearly NOT 'So Lonely', as we all know.) I was having so much fun I forgot to get off the bus. I'm a genius, me. Luckily Mum was there to give me a shove.
Finally homeward bound.
I had a really great festival, I saw brilliant artists, met some wonderful people and danced my little heart out.
I suppose my final comment would be about the compromise that we all have to make at a festival, it was something continually harped on about by the comperes. Space. It's at a premium.
I choose to arrive early, very early I suppose, to make sure I have somewhere to sit, to relax, to read the paper, to be able to have a dance and watch the artists I like. In doing so my compromise is that I don't move between stages, I don't see the full variety of artists that are appearing.
What frustrates me is that some, not all, people move between the stages, or, arrive very late and expect that we all move to accommodate them. I'm sorry, but no, that's your compromise. Sleep longer? Have a little less space. View a larger number of artists? Have less space. Most people accept that these compromises are there, others force their way in. Pushing against you, standing on your stuff, kicking you in the head.
Then the comperes come on stage, telling us to move. It's bloody easy for them to say that when they're going back stage to their comfy area which I'm sure isn't any kind of squeeze. I'd even hazard a guess that they have tables and chairs. Easy to crush people in when you're comfy yourself.
Whilst not asserting that any one person has a greater right, it is important to realise we are forced into compromise by our choices.
We have to learn to be more patient and more polite. As I moved in and out of the marquee on toilet runs I was able to apologise or utter the words 'excuse me' to almost everyone I passed and you know, it didn't slow me down. It also got me lots of smiles and people moved to help me pass.
It doesn't work that way when you physically shove people. I'm instantly stubborn, ignoring the shoving, forcing an 'excuse me' from their lips every time I can. Politeness costs nothing but it seems to be an impossible demand for so many.
I don't want to end this marathon entry on that semi-sour note. I can't wait for next year, I can't wait for more new friends, I can't wait for more new acts. I won't wish my life away but I really loved it. After last year being such a miserable festival, the experience this year has made the memory of 12 months ago fade almost into obscurity.
Speaking to Mum in the car on the journey home she said she was pleased she'd attended which was excellent and we now even share a band that we both really like. I'm not sure if either of us expected that, but then, the brilliance of the Peatbog Faeries is undeniable. You can't help but be won over!
Here's to this year and next!
EDIT: Updated to include links for your clicking pleasure!
Wednesday, 30 July 2008
Song Of The Week XXIX
I first went to Cambridge Folk Festival in 1996, my lovely sister took me with her family and afterwards she asked me what I'd enjoyed most. I remember saying that I liked the band that sang the song that went "Please God this is the last time I get married". And so began my love of Oysterband, I've probably seen them more than any other band and have never waned in my love of them. The Big Session festival that I go to in June was started by the Oysterband, so I get to see them at that. Sadly they're not playing Cambridge this year, but I think I'll survive! Maybe!War is peace
Peace is war
Less is more
Yes is no
The cows are mad
The chickens glow
And Jesus walks in Idaho
.
Everywhere I go
I hear what's going on
And the more I hear
The less I know
This is one of my favourite songs, always has been and as you can tell from the audience - it's rather an anthem amongst we Oysterfans.
I particularly like this video for a couple of reasons, firstly, I was at this gig - their 25th anniversary and it was a brilliant night.
Secondly, I'm in the video a couple of times which will always tickle me. I look terrible, I'd danced a ceilidh right before the gig and then danced throughout this and was a little warm!
Well, there's actually a third reason, one of my Celebrity Crushes is on the video too; John Jones - the lead singer.
One more sleep until I'm tucked up in my tent at Cambridge, I might just be a little excited!
Saturday, 26 July 2008
Not Long Now
This time next week I'll be readying myself for my third day of the Cambridge Folk Festival.
I feel my heart race a little when I start to think about it. I am somewhat excited!
This also means that my obsession has kicked in again.
I am checking metcheck several times a day to see what the weather has in store, despite the fact that I have almost zero faith in weather forecasting.
After all, we have the classic Michael Fish incident.
Here he is - telling us that there is absolutely no hurricane on the way.
And here's the effects of that non-hurricane. He really was right on the money. Ahem.
Incidentally, I clearly remember this night, standing in the dining room with Mum, watching the wind buffet everything in sight when suddenly our greenhouse completely left the ground. The whole structure raised into the air and then appeared to be thrown back to ground with a very resounding crash. I'm not sure a single pane lived to tell the tale.
Anyway, the current forecast for next weekend - not so pretty. This morning it promises rain. All I want is for it to be dry. Not so much to ask eh?
I feel my heart race a little when I start to think about it. I am somewhat excited!
This also means that my obsession has kicked in again.
I am checking metcheck several times a day to see what the weather has in store, despite the fact that I have almost zero faith in weather forecasting.
After all, we have the classic Michael Fish incident.
Here he is - telling us that there is absolutely no hurricane on the way.
And here's the effects of that non-hurricane. He really was right on the money. Ahem.
Incidentally, I clearly remember this night, standing in the dining room with Mum, watching the wind buffet everything in sight when suddenly our greenhouse completely left the ground. The whole structure raised into the air and then appeared to be thrown back to ground with a very resounding crash. I'm not sure a single pane lived to tell the tale.
Anyway, the current forecast for next weekend - not so pretty. This morning it promises rain. All I want is for it to be dry. Not so much to ask eh?
Sunday, 11 May 2008
Cambridge Folk Festival
It's a little after 9.30am. Just half an hour after the box office opened for the festival and I have tickets!
They're not in my hand but they are booked and paid for. Not only that, I have booked to stay in a motorcaravan. Ooops.
My 70's tent might be groovy, but it is NOT a motorcaravan.
I got to the festival website at about 8.55am.
I clicked the Book Now button, expecting to be told to come back at 9am, but no, it told me I was in a queue to buy tickets.
I was over 1200 in the queue.
Mum rang, also over 1200, but lower than I.
We hung up at 9am, I started calling and got what we called in my BT days, PET. Permanent Engaged Tone.
I sent Mum a message: 1198
She replied: 1141, 1117.
Me: 1176
Me: 838
Mum: 783
Mum: 767
The tension was palpable. Can you feel it? (That made me go all Jackson 5 for a moment.)
Me: 724
Me: 717
Mum: 640
Me: 660
Mum: 594
Me: 646
Mum: 591
Me: 643
After dropping half way down the queue in just 15 minutes it had stalled to small drops, was this what the rest of the wait had in store?
Me: 600
Mum: 547
Me: 379
Mum: 547
Hmm, what happened there... I leapfrogged.
Me: 325
Me: 206
Heart rate steps it up a notch.
Mum: 196
Me: 90
Holy crap, from drops of just a few to suddenly being in double figures.
Mum: 18
Me: 40
This is where is all went a little haywire.
Mum rang as she was so close to the front of the queue.
Her page started to refresh, slowly.
As did mine. I was still at place 40.
Mum's page was still refreshing.
Mine refreshed again. Still 40.
Mum's page sort of refreshed - but to 'cannot display this page'.
Not really a step in the right direction at all.
Then mine refreshed to the exact same thing. No page was being displayed. It was like waiting on the phone for a really long time before being cut off.
What now?
I closed the screen. I clicked Book Now again, same screen, and again, and again, and again, and again and then suddenly it said 'what's your postcode?'
What was this?
Was I in?
Was I booking tickets?
I rang Mum.
Me: I'm in!
Mum: What number in the queue?
Me: No! I'm IN! I'm booking!
Mum: Well get on with it then!
And I did. Tickets booked, Cambridge Folk Festival and I are getting it on.
I went and read the 'Considerate Folkie Guide' which was absolutely hilarious. They have actually issued photographs of acceptable chairs.
I own an acceptable chair, but to be fair as they've changed the rules year after year on what is an acceptable chair and I now have three different chairs, the odds were that one at least had to be acceptable!
So, June brings me The Big Session and July brings me Cambridge. It's all good.
They're not in my hand but they are booked and paid for. Not only that, I have booked to stay in a motorcaravan. Ooops.
My 70's tent might be groovy, but it is NOT a motorcaravan.
I got to the festival website at about 8.55am.
I clicked the Book Now button, expecting to be told to come back at 9am, but no, it told me I was in a queue to buy tickets.
I was over 1200 in the queue.
Mum rang, also over 1200, but lower than I.
We hung up at 9am, I started calling and got what we called in my BT days, PET. Permanent Engaged Tone.
I sent Mum a message: 1198
She replied: 1141, 1117.
Me: 1176
Me: 838
Mum: 783
Mum: 767
The tension was palpable. Can you feel it? (That made me go all Jackson 5 for a moment.)
Me: 724
Me: 717
Mum: 640
Me: 660
Mum: 594
Me: 646
Mum: 591
Me: 643
After dropping half way down the queue in just 15 minutes it had stalled to small drops, was this what the rest of the wait had in store?
Me: 600
Mum: 547
Me: 379
Mum: 547
Hmm, what happened there... I leapfrogged.
Me: 325
Me: 206
Heart rate steps it up a notch.
Mum: 196
Me: 90
Holy crap, from drops of just a few to suddenly being in double figures.
Mum: 18
Me: 40
This is where is all went a little haywire.
Mum rang as she was so close to the front of the queue.
Her page started to refresh, slowly.
As did mine. I was still at place 40.
Mum's page was still refreshing.
Mine refreshed again. Still 40.
Mum's page sort of refreshed - but to 'cannot display this page'.
Not really a step in the right direction at all.
Then mine refreshed to the exact same thing. No page was being displayed. It was like waiting on the phone for a really long time before being cut off.
What now?
I closed the screen. I clicked Book Now again, same screen, and again, and again, and again, and again and then suddenly it said 'what's your postcode?'
What was this?
Was I in?
Was I booking tickets?
I rang Mum.
Me: I'm in!
Mum: What number in the queue?
Me: No! I'm IN! I'm booking!
Mum: Well get on with it then!
And I did. Tickets booked, Cambridge Folk Festival and I are getting it on.
I went and read the 'Considerate Folkie Guide' which was absolutely hilarious. They have actually issued photographs of acceptable chairs.
I own an acceptable chair, but to be fair as they've changed the rules year after year on what is an acceptable chair and I now have three different chairs, the odds were that one at least had to be acceptable!
So, June brings me The Big Session and July brings me Cambridge. It's all good.
Sunday, 30 March 2008
On The Tiles
"not a man returned from the distance without his tale of wonders - violent whirlwinds, mysterious birds, enigmatic shapes half man and half beast: things seen or things believed in a moment of terror." - Tactitus: Annals.
Whilst that actually describes the feelings of the Romans on invading the wonderful British Isles, after a night out in town on Saturday I came to realise that it still describes us very well. There are certainly still mysterious birds to be seen and as for "half man and half beast" well I'm sure that applies to Saturday nights in many cities!
Went to a 70's & 80's music club, which was superb, filled with women dancing away to songs that we all knew the lyrics to. Although there were also four young men (far too young to know the words in my humble opinion) who had some serious dance moves going on. I ought to have been faintly disturbed by the fact that three of them had a routine to Rick Astley's fabulous track - Never Gonna Give You Up, but actually it was great, I found myself wanting to join in.
Whilst I'm a folky by nature, you can't help but get caught up in the music that your childhood was spent loving. I remember religiously buying Smash Hits magazine and I'd sit on a Sunday evening next to the radio listening to the top 40. The last page of the magazine had 40 slots where you could write along with the chart rundown, which I did. Because I'm sad like that. I also loved that the lyrics to lots of the songs were in the magazine too, so I could sing (read: caterwaul) along with the songs as they played on the radio.
Before getting to the club, my sister Gin and I frequented The Tap & Spile which is possibly my favourite pub in town. I think the fact that it has such a mix of folk, which I've mentioned before, but it's just so relaxed. When you go in the High Street pubs the atmosphere is so very different and I certainly would never expect to be tapped on the shoulder to be told that there were two seats available if we wanted to sit down. Friendly folks round here you know.We then went over to the club, but were a smidgen early and were refused entry, at least they said they weren't open yet, we looked good so it can't have been any other reason! We skipped to the pub opposite. Not literally. I'm not born to skip. Or run. The last time I ran was such a preposterous disaster that I haven't run since. I'm sure all the people on the bus that saw me fall in a spectacular manner still remember it too.
Anyway, we went into The Still which was very quiet. Both barmen asked for my number. But not in a good way. They frowned when I ordered a soft drink, asked if I was driving and I said that although I was driving that I'm also teetotal, at this point they asked for my number. Teetotal = taxi.
Anyway, we sat in the pub and a short while later were introduced to Walter, who is a local magician. He must be in his 80's, if not 90's and is so very tiny and absolutely lovely. He entertained us with numerous tricks, none of which I can understand how he did. From cards changing in front of my eyes to traditional rope tricks that I still don't quite understand. It was very, very cool! I want to be a magician! Or a little bit magic.
I danced and danced and then I danced some more. I had quite the splendid time. I shall be going back, many times!
On a totally unrelated note: they have announced the line-up for the Cambridge Folk Festival. After last years debacle I had pretty much decided that I wasn't going to attend and instead put my efforts into trying to get to the Grand Braderie in Lille, because, hello? 200km of flea market? OH MY GOD! Seriously, if I believed in heaven, that is what it would be like. Except I'd have a big van in which to stow all the bargains.
However, the aforementioned line-up has caused me great pain. It's almost perfect. The Waifs! Levellers! Martha Wainwright! Peatbog Faeries! Laura Marling! Joan Armatrading! 3 Daft Monkeys! Eric Bibb! Eliza Carthy! Altan! Karine Polwart! Seth Lakeman! Oh my good god, it pains me. I have to start playing the lottery. There's nothing for it!
Mum sent me an IM on AOL this morning to ask if I'd remembered to put my clocks forward. I had no idea they were supposed to change! I failed totally to notice that when I turned on my PC that an extra hour appeared to have miraculously elapsed. Damn I hate it when the clocks go forward. An hour of my life, gone. It's like an alien abduction without the cool story. Or implanted microchip.
I saw a UFO once you know.
And one of our ABC's. Alien Big Cats that is. It was a black leopard.On neither occasion had I imbibed liquor.
Anyway, I shall babble more about that another time, for now I have an hour to make up!
Friday, 15 February 2008
Song Of The Week X
I possibly have a predilection towards female artists, I'm not sure why, it's just happened that way. I do still have my love of male artists too, after all Loudon has a huge piece of my heart. It's just that I seem to own more work by women.
I saw Ani Difranco many years ago at Cambridge Folk Festival, I've said this before but one of the things I love about the festival is that I will know a number of the names on the line-up but some will be completely new to me. This is easily for me the best way of discovering new sounds that I love because, as a general rule, the things I enjoy just never get played on the radio.
Anyway, Ani was one of those artists that was completely new to me. I remember being right at the front for her set and was blown away, I thought she was excellent, she's got some great tattoos too! But more than that, I loved the lyrics, ranging from personal to political and back again. I quoted her here some time ago and there are so many other lines I love too.
Give this one a listen and afterwards I'm going to force a handful of choice lines upon you...
So here goes with a handful of lines:
"Just do me a favour,
It's the least that you can do,
Just don't treat me like I am,
Something that happened to you." - Adam & Eve
"I found religion in the greeting card aisle,
Now I know Hallmark was right,
And every pop song on the radio,
Is suddenly speaking to me,
Yeah, art may imitate life,
But life imitates TV." - Superhero
"And you won't hear me surrender,
You won't hear me confess,
'Cause you've left me with nothing,
But I've worked with less." - Dilate
"Some people wear their smile
Like a disguise
Those people who smile a lot
Watch the eyes." - Outta Me Onto You
I could go on and on, that's just one album. Truly excellent with words and I envy her, although I have no desire to be a songwriter! But her songs are more than that, they're poetry and more.
I saw Ani Difranco many years ago at Cambridge Folk Festival, I've said this before but one of the things I love about the festival is that I will know a number of the names on the line-up but some will be completely new to me. This is easily for me the best way of discovering new sounds that I love because, as a general rule, the things I enjoy just never get played on the radio.
Anyway, Ani was one of those artists that was completely new to me. I remember being right at the front for her set and was blown away, I thought she was excellent, she's got some great tattoos too! But more than that, I loved the lyrics, ranging from personal to political and back again. I quoted her here some time ago and there are so many other lines I love too.
Give this one a listen and afterwards I'm going to force a handful of choice lines upon you...
So here goes with a handful of lines:
"Just do me a favour,
It's the least that you can do,
Just don't treat me like I am,
Something that happened to you." - Adam & Eve
"I found religion in the greeting card aisle,
Now I know Hallmark was right,
And every pop song on the radio,
Is suddenly speaking to me,
Yeah, art may imitate life,
But life imitates TV." - Superhero
"And you won't hear me surrender,
You won't hear me confess,
'Cause you've left me with nothing,
But I've worked with less." - Dilate
"Some people wear their smile
Like a disguise
Those people who smile a lot
Watch the eyes." - Outta Me Onto You
I could go on and on, that's just one album. Truly excellent with words and I envy her, although I have no desire to be a songwriter! But her songs are more than that, they're poetry and more.
Monday, 30 July 2007
More Cambridge
I've slept and showered (in a hot shower - which was quite refreshing - although less invigorating than the ice cold one of the weekend). I'm still unhappy about the weekend but feeling less aggrieved.
I'm still sorry that I missed a number of the bands I'd been looking forward to and there are still elements that I dearly wish had been different but, there were good times.
Notably Saturday night, when I ran into Harriet and we went together to watch Shooglenifty - who I love. So, despite the rain it was the best evening of the festival. We trundled back to the camp site and had hot chocolate with cream and crushed maltesers. Oh yes. When I ordered the man actually asked if we wanted the cream and maltesers. I mean really, I'm not so insane as to say No to that!
We sat at the stage at the campsite, listening to singing and poetry recitals and it was really lovely. There was something about listening to people who don't play for a living, just ordinary folk getting fifteen minutes to play their songs to people who want to hear them perform.
Oysterband were great too, I feel like their new album has a more mellow feel to it, the set they played definitely felt more mellow. No call for bouncing around but I really enjoyed it.
Show of Hands were excellent also, I love their songs and how easily they can be anthems. Roots never fails to blow me away and leaves me inspired to really try and learn something about my heritage and that of my country.
I really enjoyed Four Men And A Dog too, and The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain who were hilarious!
I just wish I had another festival lined up and could get really into that festival spirit that I felt was missing this year...
I'm still sorry that I missed a number of the bands I'd been looking forward to and there are still elements that I dearly wish had been different but, there were good times.
Notably Saturday night, when I ran into Harriet and we went together to watch Shooglenifty - who I love. So, despite the rain it was the best evening of the festival. We trundled back to the camp site and had hot chocolate with cream and crushed maltesers. Oh yes. When I ordered the man actually asked if we wanted the cream and maltesers. I mean really, I'm not so insane as to say No to that!
We sat at the stage at the campsite, listening to singing and poetry recitals and it was really lovely. There was something about listening to people who don't play for a living, just ordinary folk getting fifteen minutes to play their songs to people who want to hear them perform.
Oysterband were great too, I feel like their new album has a more mellow feel to it, the set they played definitely felt more mellow. No call for bouncing around but I really enjoyed it.
Show of Hands were excellent also, I love their songs and how easily they can be anthems. Roots never fails to blow me away and leaves me inspired to really try and learn something about my heritage and that of my country.
I really enjoyed Four Men And A Dog too, and The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain who were hilarious!
I just wish I had another festival lined up and could get really into that festival spirit that I felt was missing this year...
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