READING FESTIVAL 22-24 Aug 2003

Friday
(Blackalicious, Evan Dando, Polyphonic Spree)

Saturday
(The Majesticons, The Streets, Beck, Brendan Benson, 2 Many DJs)

Sunday
(Primal Scream Hot Hot Heat, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Metallica)

As a kid growing up in the next town along I went to the Reading festival a few times but I can only really remember seeing Rage Against The Machine (who were great). Whether this reflects my then essential opposition to heavy rock or the quality of recreational assistance I will probably never fathom, however it was with a measure of nostalgia that I made the half an hour walk from Reading Station to the Rivermead Leisure complex and got lost in the sprawling mass of tents, metal fencing and black T-shirts looking for the correct way in.

Reading Festival, like Glastonbury, has a long and illustrious history stretching back to the 1960’s when festivals were festivals and giving birth in the middle of sets was all the rage. Past headliners include The Stones, New Order and Cypress Hill, but in the past few years Nu-Metal bands have ruled the roost and middle England’s teenagers have come in the droves to get drunk on vodka and celebrate finishing their school exams. However, despite the undeniably heavy metal focus, event organisers Mean Fiddler have often striven to include acts from other genres and this year hip-hop featured prominently on the line-up. With bands as diverse as System of a Down, Blur and Blackalicious appearing across four stages, the weekend was a full one indeed.

Friday (Blackalicious, Evan Dando, Polyphonic Spree)


Having noticeably missed Bell X1, Amon Tobin, Electric Six and The Darkness on the Friday daytime, it was with great excitement that my photographer and I just made it to the Smirnoff dance stage for renowned hip-hop masters Blackalicious. Led by the awe inspiring lyrical endeavours of Gift Of The Gab backed up by DJ Chief Xcel and two very classy backing singers, Blackalicious performed some outstanding hip-hop consisting of 100mph rapping over smooth and funky melodies. On ‘Green Light: Now Begin’ DJ Chief Xcel excelled with some low-key scratching for which the crowd could have shown a bit more appreciation but after some intense free-styling from GOTG and a fine version of ‘A-G’ followed by ‘Blazing Arrow’ as a close, there must have been a few converts from the less than verbose audience.

Stepping gently between the numerous camp fires built from plastic coated Carling cups, we moved on to the Carling stage to find ex-Lemonheads front man Evan Dando sporting a mullet and playing the hits from both his solo career and days with his old band. Playing to a largely female and doe-eyed audience, his indie stylings developed into danceable rock’n’roll, which became quite heavy towards the end. But we couldn’t hang around because a bunch of slightly disconcerting and manic cultists from America were playing on the Radio One stage. The Polyphonc Spree, having just completed a tour and somewhat tellingly also having just been dropped by their record label were singing happy-clappy music reminiscent of early 70s Broadway shows to the incredulous attendees of a serious heavy rock festival. Needless to say the crowd was not too prolific for the headline act.

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Saturday (The Majesticons, The Streets, Beck, Brendan Benson, 2 Many DJs)
A good night’s sleep (not in a tent) later, and a full 12 hours of music loomed on the horizon. Making the half an hour walk from the station to the site for the third time and feeling more weary than nostalgic, allowed us ample time to decide who from the surfeit of music on offer to watch that day. Expecting a largely nocturnal audience but finding the field already jam packed with punters, it was Junior Senior that first grabbed my attention, mainly because it appeared that Senior was simultaneously singing on stage as well as being in three places in the crowd. Seems that the comic attraction and toe tapping pop music of this Danish duo is strong enough to elicit doppelganger tendencies (despite a noticeably poor performance).

In search of something decent to listen to led us fortuitously to The Majesticons. Having heard about this hip-hop crew in a kind of mythical way, I was very pleased to be standing with a couple of hundred punters as the three MCs and one DJ unfolded a hip-hop opera in front of us. Based loosely on the way in which their music has developed, the Majesticons told the story of a bunch of evil gangsta robot’s taking over the human Infesticons and kicking everyone’s arses. To be honest I didn’t really manage to catch the intricacies of the plot because I was too busy being blown away by the bright and seriously infectious hip-hop that was being played very loudly in front of me. For an act pretty low down the play list, the Majesticons were a diamond in the rough and an act that should be caught if possible.

Some hard-to-middle rock from the Libertines and a couple of pints later, The Streets were ready to ascend onto Rivermead. Pity the sound system wasn’t though. After a shambolic start (whose stalling allowed for a quick toilet break), Mike Skinner, dressed in Reading FC colours, finally managed to “get things started” and embarked on his set, inciting the crowd to mosh and lamenting the White Stripe’s absenteeism. It was clear that he wanted to be liked by the crowd, which fortunately he was, especially when he warmed up properly and ran through tracks from his album 'Original Pirate Material' including a suitably darker rendition of 'Too Much Brandy'.

With reliably sound performances from blues outfits The Kills and The Soledad Brothers bringing a bit of culture to the proceedings, time flew pleasantly by until the moment came for pop magnate Beck to come on. Until 2003, the diminutive star with cherubic curls hadn’t played the UK for 12 years and there was a large number of fans who had turned up just to see his set which turned out to be a powerful and commanding performance. Featuring a good mix of oldies such as ‘Alright’ and a solo squeeze box rendition of ‘Nobody’s Fault But My Own’ as well as the more ballady styled material from his latest album, Beck’s set was jam packed with highlights. His James Brown dance moves and retrospective medley of this year’s pop hits (Beyonce, Nelly, Justin Timberlake, and Tatu) sat perfectly well next to the clamouring slide guitar piece that served as an intro to ‘Loser’ which was a delight to hear. Finishing up with ‘Devil’s Haircut’ I am sure that everyone could have listened to him all night.


But the show had to go on and waiting in the dance stage were a band that has been described as the missing link between Blackalicious and The Roots. The Spooks, silent since their 2000 album ‘S.I.O.S.S.’, were back in the country to plug their latest offering ‘XXX’. Being a big fan of their debut and having seen them play a great show at Camden’s Jazz Café I may well have been expecting too much because the new material seemed more mainstream in content and certainly lacked the strong vocal content of previous tracks. Singer Ming Xia, sporting a Metallica T-Shirt as a nod to the festival’s main purpose, was scandalously under employed and really the only highlight was the hi-jacking of Lisa Stansfield’s ‘Been Around the World’ to introduce the calypso beat of ‘Around the World’. What’s more, their shameless plugging of Spooks merchandise would have Elvis turning in his grave. Despite this we did stick around for the entire set, therefore missing the beginning of the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.


Now far from being bitter about the last minute parachuting of BRMC into the huge cavernous space left by The White Stripes, I was still not really too fussed about seeing some droning rock. So I took this opportunity to return some of the sponsor's pissy weak lager back to where it belonged, which in hindsight I wished I hadn’t because apparently they played quite a good cover of ‘The Hardest Button To Button’ from The White Stripes album ‘Elephant’. Settling down I found that the undeniable competency of this band and the fact it was a big pair of boots they were filling actually made their performance surprisingly good and despite the sameness of their first album, their new release 'Take Them On, On Your Own' promises to deliver much more.


Someone else with a good second album is Brendan Benson. Blessed by the (broken) hand of Jack White, who covered 'Good To Me' as a B-side to 'Seven Nation Army', Benson's appearance at the festival was a big draw. Second billing on the Carling stage before aging politico Billy Bragg, Benson and his band The Well Fed Boys were a hotly anticipated act, judging by the gaggle of women assembled at the front of the stage. Obviously not one to disappoint (and certainly not one to spend much time on his appearance) Benson launched into boy-next-door rock’n’roll much to the toe-tapping delight of everyone around. If there had of been enough room it is likely that the crowd would have been dancing along to tunes like the chugging ‘What’ and a more jocular version of ‘I’m Easy’. Apparently Meg White played drums with Benson the night before in Leeds. No such luck here though but to be honest she is more Ringo Starr than Keith Moon so maybe we didn’t miss out too much.


What my photographer and I did manage to miss, however, was just about all of Blur’s set whilst we looked for our errant mates (including when Damon Albarn fell off the stage) but as 2 Many DJs were playing at the same time it didn’t really matter. Faced with the task of appealing to a rock crowd, the Belgian masters of bootleg positively relished the challenge and delivered a rip-roaring hour long set complete with a stomping techno translation of Nirvana’s ‘Come As You Are’. For those members of the festival's constituency who stood shoulder to shoulder to listen to some tired middle aged/class Brit pop I can only assume that they couldn’t hear the huge cheers emanating from the dance stage or otherwise they would have turned round and moved a couple of hundred yards across the field for the last act of the night.

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Sunday (Primal Scream, Hot Hot Heat, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Metallica)

Whilst Saturday was unquestionably the day to be at Reading festival, Sunday had its fair share of crowd pulling acts, Primal Scream being one of them. Having made the widely acclaimed album of the century in ‘Screamadelica’ in 1991, Bobby Gillespie has since taken his band from dance fusion to full on punk rock. Their set was pretty nondescript bass heavy rock and much of the crowd weren’t interested enough to hear out the whole set.


For Hot Hot Heat however, the crowd were prepared to stick around and those who stayed to the end of their punk rock set, featuring ‘More Mess’ (humorously dedicated to the crowd) and ‘Get In, Get Out’, were treated to a cameo by Har Mar Superstar on bongos. Closing with ‘Bandages’ Hot Hot Heat’ had metallers, hippies and noodle sellers alike humming away to the Ramones like vocals and freaky guitars.


Battling with a serious overdose of heavy rock that not even hard liquor and chocolate pancakes could ease (seriously this is why people wear chains and metal studs to this sort of affair) and looking around at my fellow punters I could see that people still sported the type of black ‘band’ T-shirt that is definitely de rigueur. Of these none were more prolific than headliners Metallica who were appearing on the main stage after a highly anticipated appearance by New York punk giants the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
A three-piece consisting of drums, guitar and vocals, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs have attracted a lot of attention for the out and out lunatic antics of lead singer Karen-O and the impresario guitar work of Nik Zinner, described by heavy metal freak Marilyn Manson as the world’s greatest guitarist.


Warmed up by some thoughtful sing-along tunes on the PA, the crowd were at the point of cheering the roadies before two thirds of the band took to the stage leaving a tantalising gap after which Karen-O strode on dressed in electric blue dress and pink tights. The best way of describing this girl from the suburbs of New Jersey is as a seriously evil Chucky version of Suzy Quattro who, in the middle of a punk rock revival, is managing to make waves for the conventional style but innovative delivery of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. The first time around punk was played by full five piece bands, many with two guitars, but the current incarnation is still managing to deliver full production from minimalist tools. Ranging from the radio friendly punk of ‘Pin’ to the emotive dedication song ‘Maps’, Karen-O’s shrill vocals and frolicking stage presence may not be to everyone’s taste but were certainly memorable. Keeping the best till last the band played an explosive rendition of ‘Date With The Night’ followed by ‘Tick’ but at the end of the day it was all good. Very, very good.


And so to the headliners and the reason why thousands of people across the world have broken strings on their guitars. Recently celebrating 20 years in the business and commonly regarded as the bastions of heavy metal music, Metallica’s set had been going for half an hour by the time we got there. This was ample time for all manner of moshing and crowd surfing to have begun and for the band to get round to playing the oldies that people like myself, whose little brother wanted to be Lars Ulrich, could happily say they recognised. Songs such as ‘Sad But True’ and ‘Seek And Destroy’ nicely punctuated material from their new album 'St Anger' including the slightly uncharacteristic title track as the now old men rocked the crowd, who duly gave them sign of the Devil and tried their hardest to elbow each other in the face.


With the end of the show came fireworks to reflect the grandeur of the act and also the success of the whole festival, successful with respect to the sheer volume of music and the wide appeal of the acts on offer. If the industry really is assured of the death of dance music and is hell bent on promoting rock to the under 18’s then festivals such as Reading, Leeds and V are going to be hosting the pop acts of the future. Whether or not this will affect their credibility and expose the current trend as an engineered ploy or a simple fad remains to be seen. Just as long as the bleeding White Stripes turn up next time.

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words: Robin Harris
photos: Chloe Brown/Robin Harris