7 nation army

‘So, I say, Thank you, Jack White, for the fibre-optic Jesus that you gave me.’ – The Flaming Lips – Untitled (as far as I know)

There are some moments that you could take and live over and over again and they would remain what they originally were, perfect moments in time. Hearing Michael Stipe sing ‘Everybody Hurts’ as the sun set over Kinross on Saturday night was absolutely one of them. It was a perfect moment that, had I not been sharing it with 55,000 other (mostly drunk and sunburnt) people, would have reduced me to tears.

T in the Park had its moments of perfection and its moments of sheer hell. We picked the hire car up on Friday evening and left on Saturday morning for the three hour drive. After negotiating the system at the festival (what system!) we finally found a place to park – and were charged for the priviledge. I’m not even utterly convinced that the car was secure for most of the day, but still. We then queued for over an hour to get in. There was no system to the queue either. Apparently this is the 10th year of T and the organisers “know what they’re doing” – according to the leaflet, so I’d hate to have seen this place when they didn’t really have a clue. It was chaotic. Drunken people queue jumping with their 24 cans of lager (which they were promptly told they couldn’t come in with and were forced to drink them all before entering!) and people with camping equipment who’d been told to queue here, looking weighed down by their tent.

We finally got in and caught the last couple of songs of Skin’s set before paying the usual festival prices for food. Once fed, we sat and watched Biffy Clyro, and unexpected addition to the main stage before wandering round and glancing at the stalls. I found one stall selling REM bootleg CDs and could have spent a fortune there and then, but was so restrained (or broke, you choose!). We then went and checked out the end of the Proclaimers – apparently they have a huge following in Scotland. This is also when we saw one of the more scarier sights of T – a guy in a tiny g-string kilt, shoes and hat, dancing like an insane person. Anyway, we found a great spot and sat down. We watched the Cardigans and Idlewild. Next we were supposed to see the White Stripes, but we already knew that they had cancelled (due to Jack White’s accident and finger breaking), which was a disappointment, but fingers crossed they will be playing Leeds. Anyway, the Flaming Lips performed instead and I was pleasantly surprised. They’re not really a band I’ve heard much, or anything from, but I surprisingly recognised a couple of songs and they were really great, not White Stripes great, but still pretty damn good. And then, finally, it was time for REM.

The two hours flew by. They opened with Finest Worksong, skipped through old and new songs, including the old favourites The One I Love, Losing my Religion and Imitation of Life. The encore was Everybody Hurts, Country Feedback, So. Central Rain and finally It’s the end of the world. The whole thing finished at 11 and the crowd was huge, it was an awesome sight to see. We left and managed to get away quickly. We were home by just before 3am and already the effects of the sun were getting to me, I was shivering, despite the heat. I slept until late Sunday morning and after shopping I pretty much slept all day sunday and monday – I couldn’t face work yesterday, the pain in my muscles and the headaches and dizziness from the sun were hell, but totally worth it!

Until there is a next time…

xx