It would be fair to say that I had a REET old time during my first year at university in Leeds. Even though it was totes a shithole, I was sad to leave my little flat at James Baillies at the end of June. I felt like one of the Pevensies in between trips to Narnia - knocking about at my parents house when I all I wanted to do was go back to The Magical Kingdom and stroke Aslan's luxurious mane. I still had band practice, Novacain played our first headline show at the Duchess, we had a silly drunken night out at the Town And Country Club, and I even went to visit one of my uni mates, Joey B, for the weekend, but the summer dragged nevertheless.
...So I was seriously excited about moving back to Leeds at the end of August. I'd really hoped we could all live together, but finding a property with 14 bedrooms was always going to be difficult. Me and the guys from my flat ended up signing for somewhere in Headingley, while the girls from the flat above got a large old Victorian house on Clarendon Road near the university. I was chuffed with the massive attic room that I bagsied and couldn't wait to move in. It was going to be PHENOM. And, not only did I have an ace room in My Own Place, we'd also got tickets to Leeds festival. I can(could)not.
Eventually the final weekend of August arrived and, once again, I packed my belongings into my parents car and made the journey to Leeds. In the grand tradition of Parents Bringing Their Kids To University, I quickly dumped my things so Mum and Dad could take me to Safeway. They bought me enough nice food to give me a whole week of eating like an actual human before the onset of the Pasta/Chicken Kiev/Pasta rotation, which would inevs run from September to Christmas. When we got back, Joey B had arrived. And the police had just left. Apparently I'd not shut the front door properly, it had swung open setting the alarm off, and someone had called The Beak. Joe and his parents were thus welcomed back to Leeds by two uniformed officers rooting around our cupboards. Soz.
The next morning we got up bright and early(ish), met up with the girls at Clarendon Road, then walked into town to get the bus to Temple Newsam. One of our friends, Becca, had decided not to come at the last minute and I was charged with selling her ticket. I steeled myself for some rugged, manly, bartering. We reached the festival site and, as if by magic, A Tout appeared. "Spare tickets?" he phelgmed. Reasoning that this might be just the opportunity I was looking for, I entered into negotiations. I wasn't sure whether to open with a ludicrously inflated price to start the bartering process, or to firmly state an acceptable figure, and make it clear that I would accept nothing less. While I was mulling this over, my mouth sprang into action. "Chkkkkkk" it spluttered. I don't know who was more surprised by this impromptu impersonation of a small boy with a face full of cream crackers addressing a Dickensian headmaster, me or The Tout. While I was still trying to work out what had just happened, The Tout offered me £5 for the £33 day ticket and half-heartedly said something about having "a family to feee..." My mouth made a little 'o' shape and my hand robotically sprang forwards, proffering the ticket. As The Tout victoriously slobbered away into the distance, my brain reappeared on the scene; "Dreadfully sorry old chap, did I miss much?" Good one brain. You dick.
In recent years Leeds has sold out weeks in advance, sometimes even on the day tickets have gone on sale, but this was the first year of the festival and we litch waltzed through wristband exchange with the rest of the slightly meagre crowd. The site was poorly organised compared to V97, and it took us ages to wind our way round to the main stage, but eventually we arrived, having missed Atari Teenage Riot, Sleater Kinney and The Pharcyde. Balls. Thankfully we did manage to catch all of Sebadoh's set. I'd first got into the band after hearing an acoustic version of "Flame" on a tape (!) that came free with the NME. I remember thinking I was 2 Cool, when I bought 'The Sebadoh' from HMV a few weeks later. Hmm... Anyways, they were really good, even if they did seem a touch lethargic. Lou Barlow said something about them having only arrived at the site a few minutes before they were due on. Although he may have been wagging it up.
We stayed put for Beth Orton. Suggy (bassist in Novacain) had put "Stolen Car" on a mix tape he'd made for me earlier in the year, and I'd bought both her albums as a result. Unfortunately the weather had deteriorated by the time Ms. Orton went on, and her well-crafted acousticy songs got lost somewhat as they were carelessly thrown around the site by the wind. The chart dance music emanating from the ill-placed dodgems just behind us didn't help either.
For the second time in three years I missed most of Pavement's set at a festival for no good reason. Joey B wanted to see Snuff, so I went with him to the Radio 1 stage. I think they played their cover of "Whatever Happened to The Likely Lads", but I WOULD NOT SWEAR TO IT. At any rate, it was fun, punky, brassy stuff. And we got back to the main stage for the last half hour of Pavement, during which they played the ace "Carrot Rope", which was the only song of theirs I really knew at the time, following a fair bit of airplay on Mark & Lard's Radio 1 show. Bonza. We left to see My Life Story just before Pavement finished. It was slim musical pickings around teatime, and at least we'd heard of My Life Story. They were pretty decent without being particularly memorable - kind of baroque pop, like a not quite as good Left Banke. Of course seeing them meant that we missed Kevin Rowland's legendary fifteen minute performance on the main stage. I'm not sure if this was a bad thing. The former Dexys Midnight Runners frontman apparently pranced around in a white dress and suspenders singing cover versions of Whitney Houston et al., while two scantily clad dancers gyrated either side of him. Good. Lord.
We spent the rest of the day camped out in front of the main stage. I don't really hate that many bands, but The Divine Comedy and Catatonia are two groups I can't stand. They both manage to blend sixth-form irony, late-nineties generic guitar rock and syruptastic melodies into a sort of Stupid Musical French Fancy which makes my teeth itch. I'm ok with later period Divine Comedy ('Regeneration' is a wicked album), but their early stuff is AWFUL, and it's possible that "National Express" is the most irritating song ever written. With Catatonia it's the other way round - they weren't so bad when they first came out, but all that "Mulder & Scully" / "Road Rage" shite is atrocious (although Cerys Matthews' solo albums are good). Only two things kept me from ending it all in the three hour wait for Blur - overpriced lukewarm Carling in a paper cup and The Fun Lovin' Criminals, who were sandwiched between these two aural monstrosities. FLC may be daft, but at least they know they're daft, and aren't scared to admit it. "Scooby Snacks" is pretty stupid, but it sounds ace when you're drunk in a field. Fact.
Blur were introduced by Mary Ann Hobbs. She said something about smothering them in ice cream which produced a total "er... ohhhhhhhhhhhkay" moment. After an awkward silence the band launched into "Tender". Bit of an odd song to start with really, and things seemed to drift a bit afterwards, despite "Coffee & TV" and "End Of A Century" appearing early on. "Popscene" and "For Tomorrow" were mint, but it wasn't until "Bettlebum" and "The Universal" kicked off the first encore that the crowd perked up. The hits came thick and fast afterwards before an ace, but slightly predictable, second encore of "Girls & Boys", "There's No Other Way", "Song 2", "Parklife" and "Sing".
We stumbled back towards the bus stop, having had a jolly good day. I didn't know it at the time but the Leeds festival would become a (semi) permanent fixture of my summer for the next ten years.
Set list (Blur)
- Tender
- Bugman
- Coffee & TV
- End Of A Century
- Jubilee
- B.L.U.R.E.M.I.
- Advert
- Popscene
- For Tomorrow
- Trimm Trabb
- Battle
- No Distance Left To Run Encore 1
- Beetlebum
- The Universal
- Country Sad Ballad Man
- To The End
- This Is A Low
- Fried Encore 2
- Girls & Boys
- There's No Other Way
- Parklife
- Song 2
- Sing
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