bsn's answer to Tegan and Sara risk life, limb and anti-capitalist purity to see PJ, the Vines et al...
before we get too far, we'd like to have a whinge. since when did the big day out become so damn commercial? no, really, when? when we first started going to the big day out, it was an indie kid's haven: lovely indie, goth and punk kids everywhere; lots of quality music; freedom to do what one wanted, and just a great, fun day out. this year, it was an excruciatingly commerical event. we didn't go last year because the line up was shite, but if the event was anything like this year's, we're not sorry we missed it. it has gone from indie kid haven to land of the trendies. while we were lining up to get in the gates, there was a group of punky girls behind us, with torn tartan clothing, many body piercings, and political slogans written on their clothing and body in permanent marker. to the left of us, there was a group of avril lavigne-type girls: prissy blonde hair; short tartan skirts from supre; ties, and doc martens. one of the avril lavigne girls turns to her friend, and says, "wow, look at those girls. they've, like, written on themselves! that is SO cool!!" it was hard to decide whether to be amused or horrified. once in the gates, however, it became clear we should be horrified. very horrified. trendies EVERYWHERE. one girl who particularly caught our collective eye was a girl wearing a pair of designer pants; a boob tube, and a pair of those trendy platform flip flop things. also, during augie march, there were a couple of girls standing next to us [AND TALKING REALLY FUCKING LOUDLY] who were dressed from head to toe in roxy. wearing flip flops. like, hello? this isn't the beach or the shopping mall. it's the bloody big day out. you wear comfortable clothes that you're not scared to get dirty and smelly. not designer clothes. pffft.
also, we've never seen such blatant advertising in our lives. seriously, it was disgusting. other than the bands, there was nothing indie about it. it was haven for the trendies and big companies. there was justin timberlake wannabes with water spray things advertising levis, and people dressed up as sperm advertising saturn condoms [although that latter one was somewhat amusing]. and carnival rides. carnival rides at the big day out. feesh...
but, on to the bands... we'll start with augie march, because they were the first band we watched the whole set of. they were on the jjj essential stage, so we had to move around from the main arena to watch them. sarah had never heard anyhing by them before, and was happily converted by their wonderful lovely perfomance. thankfully, they played mostly songs from their debut album, 'sunset studies', which was good for kyla as she STILL hasn't been able to afford to get their new album, 'strange bird'. they played 'sunset studies'; 'the hole in your roof'; 'the good gardener'; another song from 'sunset studies' that kyla couldn't name because she seldom reads the track list, and a few songs from the new album, including a really twangy, foot stomping track that they closed with [we think it was, possibly, called 'strange bird']. and were wonderful, despite many technical difficulties including crackling speakery things, and a really shit sound techie who couldn't balance the sounds correctly. and they were funny. as ever. actually, we were surprised by the large number of people who turned out to watch augie march, as we'd previously believed them to be a band that only kyla had heard of.
the vines were the next band we watched for the whole set. we made a drunk blonde friend during the band on the orange stage before them, millencolin [who were quite shite, might we add]. he came out of the mosh, nearly passed out and fell on us about fifty times, and we had to save him from falling over and getting trampled for most of millencolin. then he disappeared into the mosh. also, during millencolin, sarah nearly got into fights with two guys who were considerably larger than her. the mosh was full of trendies who clearly didn't understand mosh ettiquette, and we were about ready to kill every single one of them. also, there were a bunch of stick figure trendy girls in flip flops who obviously didn't grasp the concept of a mosh. so we let them through, only to watch them try to push their way out about ten minutes later. yes, we are cruel, but damn it was funny.
but back to the vines... craig was wearing a pretty ordinary pair of jeans that were broken at the back and a greenish t-shirt. he wears jeans well, though. his hair was lovely and shiney, but clearly unbrushed, as it stuck up at the back and spent most of the set covering his pretty little face. and he's tiny. we'd never realised this before. mm. but lovely... anyway, about half way through their first song, sarah pointed out that craig had come on stage with a wet patch on his crotch. this we found greatly amusing. his antics are nothing less than weird. he lasted about three songs before he felt the need to smash up a guitar, and then he smashed up a guitar after nearly every song to follow. at some stage, he put a cigarrette in his mouth to light it, then realised he had to sing, thus opening his mouth and dropping the cigarette. he had various objects thrown at him from the crowd, but failed to notice. he nearly ran into the bass player on a number of occasions; fell into the drum kit, and nearly knackered himself when he attempted to do a morrissey and lay singing across the speakers. and then he decided to just lay over the speaker with his arse in the air. but that is what made the performance immensely cool. he's a nutter, and he makes faces when he sings. and when he speaks. and you can't understand what he's saying when he's speaking, just as you can't understand what he's saying when he's singing. and he didn't even look drunk or stoned! just... normal. it was bizarre. but totally cool. they departed playing 'get free', and craig smashed up the drums and the amps before making his way off stage.
pj harvey, then. we caught the last part of the living end so we could get a good spot, and then had to sit through the shite queens of the stone age performance. polly was wearing an interesting combo. kyla thinks it may have been suede, but sarah thinks it may have been corduroy. it was a brown hot pants/vesty thing combo, which was covered with shiney ornamentations and such. she wore a pair of knee lace up boots, and her hair was in ringlets. she was wearing much lipstick, of course, and looked immensely lovely. she is also tiny. we always knew this, but were shocked at exactly how tiny she was. she opened with 'to bring you my love', and played songs from all her albums, but most of them came from 'stories from the city, stories from the sea' and 'the four track demos'. there was a boy that looked like a girl standing next to kyla, and behind sarah was this stupid drunk cow who kept screaming, "peeee-jaaaay! peee-jaaay haaarvey! peee-jaaay rocks!" and hitting us in the head. [every time she hit kyla, she thought she'd hit sarah, and would give sarah a rather rough rub on the head and go, "SORRRYYYYYY!"] she was quite irritating. after pj had finished her set, she stood there for about five minutes screaming, "sheeeeeela-na-gig! play sheela-na-gig! sheeeeela! peee-jaay roooocks!"
sick of being treated like crap by teenies and drunks, sarah and kyla made the wise decision to leave after pj harvey's set, before the foo fighters came on and we got either crushed or into a fight.
cool things collected at the big day included: sarah's authentic 1980s depeche mode badge [it made her day]; the smiths badges; the vines and pj harvey t-shirts; sunburn; much dirt, and a cool chinaman hat, which was lost during millencolin when a drunk moron decided he was going to try and crowd surf when he wasn't in the mosh. moron.
the end.
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