V-Festival was an absolute treat. Nevermind that the clientele of the festival looked like a bomb had gone off in both Topman and a gypsy camp simultaneously and thrown all the remnants in a field in Essex. Myself and my brother were guests of Firetrap, employed to supply, along with others, the music to throw shapes to in the Firetrap ‘Lock-In’ pub/tent/area. Sarah also tagged along for comedy value on our part, and I charged her with the task of taking photos all weekend.
We’d not even been on the site an hour and Macbeth had already given James some shoes for free.
First set of the day, few drinks in, managed to play house, garage, hip hop, RnB and everything else, all in the space of an hour. The beauty of playing a gig like this is you can get away with so much more than a club gig, and I get to play all my embarrassing secret tunes, as the chavs here loved them! “Do you really like it, is it is it wicked….”
YEAH! Dixon brothers were there and causing a ruckus.
Would you trust these two men?
Southern Comfort had a whole area decked out like a sleazy New Orleans hang out, complete with dancing old black dude and a full brass band.
Oh and mardi-gras beads. We didn’t see any boobs though.
Christian made all this possible. He’s a total don and it’s always a bit of a wild ride whenever he’s around.
RIHANNA! Sound was shit though and we were too far away. Oh well, at least I could admire her curves on the jumbo screens instead.
ER….
Last set of the day. Carnage. Chavs gone wild. Old school garage. Dancing on tables. Loaded sales guys going off on one. Firetrap interns touching James’ dick. Soundguy hating me. FUN.
The whole weekend was amazing, I want to do it all again. Next year?
