This morning’s dilemma was pretty mundane. Whether to risk the rain which has poured non-stop since late last night and is only easing off as lunchtime approaches its end, in order to claim the mysterious special delivery that arrived while I was at the gym. I even tried a track and trace to see if I could work out whether it was worth the effort, but the postie’s handwritten number was illegible. I’ve been peering constantly through the window and trying to convince myself it would be something boring. Critter picked up on this restlessness and more than once demanded the front door opened so that he could come to his own conclusions as to weather’s clemency. (If he had thumbs they’d have been pointing down.)
Well, what of it? I gave in and it was V Festival tickets, which gives me an excuse to blog on last year’s event which was, for me anyway, before blogging. V has become an almost regular event for Katharine and I, because it’s commuting distance from Manchester and there’s no way we would ever, ever camp. (Although Dido’s presence this year almost put us off.) Last year we spent a lot of time in the JJB Puma Arena, were Dirty Vegas, Goldfrapp and Moloko were particularly outstanding and energetic. Also here were Appleton proving that while they were certainly the eye candy, Shaznay was the real talent behind the seminal Saints and Sinners (that said, it’s teamwork – innit? – and none of the parts add up to All Saints). I regret not sticking around for Mis-teeq, but then their troubles may be over now they’ve elbowed Britney off the Catwoman soundtrack.
The V stage was let down by the sound. It actually dipped out for The Hives and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers sounded like they were coming through a wall. Ash, a band I’d forgotten, were good fun in a strangely nostalgic way as were The Cardigans (strange how quickly some people date). On Sunday the sound was a little better so David Gray and Coldplay could do the business in proper stadium style.