Nothing to do this weekend because your friends are all at ATP festival saying goodbye to holiday camp chalet fun with the indie kids? You know Slint's playing? Not that we care. And Shellac, obviously, else it would be the one ATP they didn't make. But, you know, while it might be the end of an era for ATP, and people will be providing anecdotes for years about how they were there, we have some festival stories of our own to share. In totally non bitter tones and everything...
1. Some years back at Glastonbury early one morning Squeamish Louise and I ran into some fellow festival-goers who had either started on the beers (and likely other substances) very early, or they'd been going since the night before. Either way they were somewhat merry. They called me over as they had some important questions and felt like I'd know the answers. After answering several questions that have puzzled the ages (you know, real stumpers like "When do the bands start?") they decided I was the font of all knowledge, started calling me Professor and asked me a question they thought would stump me: "Does time travel exist?" After explaining that we all travelled into the future at a rate of one second per second I told them that yes, it was theoretically possible to travel in a non-linear fashion but there was no empirical evidence. They seemed to struggle with some of the bigger words in my answer so I made a promise "I'll tell you what - if it is, and if i ever get my hands on a time machine I'll appear right there in 10 seconds time". To everyone's disappointment I failed to materialise. Although I like to think that I'm wandering around Glastonbury a year or two either side of that event trying to find those silly drunk people. Gareth
2. 1998. My first ever proper music festival. Me, a couple of mates, loads of music - it was going to be great. And how much stuff do you really need to take anyway? I picked up my tent, stuffed a few changes of underwear and tshirts into a bag and grabbed half a loaf of bread out of my parents' cupboard. sorted. I didn't have much money, but I reckoned my 500 francs (about a tenner) would see me through the weekend. My two friends had packed in a similar way and together we laughed at all the people laden down with rucksacks the size of small children. We put up our tents, drank the few beers we had with us and then wondered what to do next. When someone came round selling magic mushrooms for 500 francs it seemed the obvious thing. That was how much they cost. That was how much I had. Sorted. So just to recap - we were in a field with nothing to eat or drink and no money. Which didn't seem like a bad thing until the next day. Luckily, the festival had a system where you could exchange empty cups for drinks. Water was cheapest. So we spent the rest of the weekend getting up really early, collecting loads of discarded drinks cups, and then drinking water while eating shroom sandwiches. It was probably great. Squeamish Louise
3. I like the idea of Festivals, hanging out with our friends and listening to a whole bunch of amazing bands that you love. I do not like the idea of camping so this is why ATP was so very appealing. Sadly in reality I am a festival bore. When taken out of the routine of the day to day I seem to lose all sense of self and direction. Which means I can't drink due to discomfort in an unfamilar setting and I can't decide what bands to see and when and what to eat. I ended up going to ATP wandering around on my own and watching seminal dance film The Red Shoes and the drums of some band upstairs pounded though the ceiling. Saying that the film was amazing and I danced and got drunk with my friends later and then to bed in my ATP chalet. Nice. Squeamish Nicola
4. Every festival provides you with a couple of good anecdotes, I went to my first festival when I was 18 with my friend Peter whose mum packed him the biggest bag of sandwiches I have ever seen. You know those big bags people take to the beach? That they pack the towels in? Yeah. FULL OF SANDWICHES. The memory that is most vivid to me, probably because I am partially responsible for it, was in a chalet at ATP. I was in the toilet and a bit fed up with my fellow festival goers so taking my SWEET TIME. Someone suddenly started to frantically try the door handle. This is MY TIME I thought and didn't open the door. I came out to learn one of my fellow chalet occupants had been driven to vomit directly into a tiny glass tumbler in front of Squeamish Nicola and Chris. I missed it, but I cleaned up the vomit that could not be directed. Squeamish Kate
5. As far as I'm concerned, festivals are like the '60s anyone who can remember them wasn't really there. F1 Kate
2. 1998. My first ever proper music festival. Me, a couple of mates, loads of music - it was going to be great. And how much stuff do you really need to take anyway? I picked up my tent, stuffed a few changes of underwear and tshirts into a bag and grabbed half a loaf of bread out of my parents' cupboard. sorted. I didn't have much money, but I reckoned my 500 francs (about a tenner) would see me through the weekend. My two friends had packed in a similar way and together we laughed at all the people laden down with rucksacks the size of small children. We put up our tents, drank the few beers we had with us and then wondered what to do next. When someone came round selling magic mushrooms for 500 francs it seemed the obvious thing. That was how much they cost. That was how much I had. Sorted. So just to recap - we were in a field with nothing to eat or drink and no money. Which didn't seem like a bad thing until the next day. Luckily, the festival had a system where you could exchange empty cups for drinks. Water was cheapest. So we spent the rest of the weekend getting up really early, collecting loads of discarded drinks cups, and then drinking water while eating shroom sandwiches. It was probably great. Squeamish Louise
3. I like the idea of Festivals, hanging out with our friends and listening to a whole bunch of amazing bands that you love. I do not like the idea of camping so this is why ATP was so very appealing. Sadly in reality I am a festival bore. When taken out of the routine of the day to day I seem to lose all sense of self and direction. Which means I can't drink due to discomfort in an unfamilar setting and I can't decide what bands to see and when and what to eat. I ended up going to ATP wandering around on my own and watching seminal dance film The Red Shoes and the drums of some band upstairs pounded though the ceiling. Saying that the film was amazing and I danced and got drunk with my friends later and then to bed in my ATP chalet. Nice. Squeamish Nicola
4. Every festival provides you with a couple of good anecdotes, I went to my first festival when I was 18 with my friend Peter whose mum packed him the biggest bag of sandwiches I have ever seen. You know those big bags people take to the beach? That they pack the towels in? Yeah. FULL OF SANDWICHES. The memory that is most vivid to me, probably because I am partially responsible for it, was in a chalet at ATP. I was in the toilet and a bit fed up with my fellow festival goers so taking my SWEET TIME. Someone suddenly started to frantically try the door handle. This is MY TIME I thought and didn't open the door. I came out to learn one of my fellow chalet occupants had been driven to vomit directly into a tiny glass tumbler in front of Squeamish Nicola and Chris. I missed it, but I cleaned up the vomit that could not be directed. Squeamish Kate
5. As far as I'm concerned, festivals are like the '60s anyone who can remember them wasn't really there. F1 Kate
RSS Feed