Looking at those old photos in the last post has got me a bit sentimental about 2002. The year of the Queens Golden Jubilee, of course and Henrik Larsson was still Celtic’s top striker. I loved that wee guy and I don’t even support Celtic. It was the year that John Entwhistle died (and if we’re honest, The Who too), and also Spike Milligan, Requiescat in pace. It was the year that we were amazed at Peter’s Jackson’s The Two Towers, and thoroughly appalled at George Lucas’s Attack of the Clones, I mean what the fuck George? Did you write that on a napkin in the pub the night before you turned up to film? Talk about phoning it in. We also got to listen to that lying cunt Tony Blair say that we were in imminent danger of nuclear and biological attacks from Iraq. Honestly, forty-five minutes. It seemed so plausible! Luckily we invaded without U.N or international approval, and against international law, and destroyed their society, so that’s all right then. Remind me, what were all those trials after World War Two about again?
Nowadays we respect the rule of law and our politicians are no longer lying charlatans. Also the Internet is twenty times faster. And Coldplay continue. On and on. Very little has changed in terms of Bombskare however. Some different faces, less hair, more girth, same propensity for non-communication, miscommunication, rumour, hearsay, gossip, slander, nonfeasance, misfeasance, possibly malfeasance, and of course the danger, always the danger.
In this case it was simply that we were on stage at 5.15pm and the stage was at the bottom of Dumfries and Galloway. Most of the band had the whole day to arrive and chill out and enjoy the festival, and it is an excellent festival. However Murray and I are both wage slaves and could not get the day off work, I was getting off at 2pm but he could only get away at 3pm. There was just no way we would make it if I waited for Murray, so we decided we had to do it without him which, as you know, is clown shoes! Having us on at 5.15pm didn’t make much sense, hardly any really. If we had the following slot on the schedule, no worries, but it was not to be. I found out later that the band on after us, Eureka Machines, really nice guys, cracking band, only got onto the bill the previous week after another band had to drop out.
Anyway I had a pretty crazy drive down to festival, complete with overtaking on blind bends, burning tyres, wheelies, everything. I arrived with five minutes to spare at 5.10pm, no chance to get changed into a suit or even to get into character. I think we got by without Murray, but I wouldn’t want to make a habit of it. We still went with the drunken keyboard player though, that’s a tradition now. No bin bag for Joe. Great crowd. We saw plenty familiar and friendly faces. Thanks to everyone there, and for putting up with inevitable technical difficulties, fucking guitars!
Shout out to our cousins Kev, Ronnie, Handsome D, and Ryan, the Roots boys, they played a fucking blinder, and of course to The Meanies although I missed their set. Cheers to Gordon for impersonating Murray in our group shots. Cheers again to Kevin McCann for the photos, most of them. I would also like to say that I really enjoyed the UK Subs, and especially The Dickies. Their drummer is tremendous. I’m always impressed by left handed drummers, like Ian Paice; it just looks mental. I have a confession at this point. I watched The Human League, and expected to hate it, but didn’t. Is there something wrong with me?