509 THE 2001 LONDON FLEADH, Finsbury Park, London N4, Saturday 16 June 2001

After much humming and hawing about this, I finally decided to do my first Fleadh! Got tickets for myself and Ady - Rachel resting up for her London to Brighton bike ride the next day - in Kempsters the day before, twisted Ady's arm into driving, and we were on our way! Headed through torrential rain on the M4 to London, parking up at Ealing and tubing over to Finsbury Park, laughing at the floods on the Seven Sisters Road and the river coming out of the main entrance to the Festival site. Good thing we were both (wet) suited and booted!

Got in, programmed up, and got our bearings in time for the start of the days' proceedings at 12. Headed for the bigger of the 2 tents, separated from the main arena by a road lined with trees. Big Tent compere Phill Jupitus introduced CLEM SNIDE, whose single "I Love The Unknown" has made a real impression on me, and who I wanted to check out. They were as laid back, laconic and wry as this song; the slow delivery of a Jonathan Richman allied to the quirky worldliness and trippy musicianship of Eels, with a hint of a string-section thrown in. A good start to the day, and a set during which I puzzled, just where do I know their additional 5th member from?

Took a quick wander into the main arena during RICHARD HAWLEY's set, which struck me, frankly, like Andy Williams. Then headed back to the Clem Snide sign-in at the signing tent to clear up the mystery! Sure enough, he was Pete Fitzpatrick, a Boston musician from the band Pee Wee Fist (hosts of gig 444!) and a friend of Ed Valauskas! Chatted to him and his Clem Snide colleagues about Boston rock, then hit the late-running Tiny Tent to avoid the rain and catch a set from TRISH SMITH, which was dull but inoffensive calypso jazz. Switched tents briefly to see COUSTEAU play some slow-burn late-night mood music; rather cinematic and a little like Tindersticks, but not really the thing for a rainy lunchtime! Then back to the Tiny Tent to see OWEN, a band who peddled some reasonably, vaguely uplifting and folky guitar pop, kind of like a junior leather-clad The Fat Lady Sings. Not earth-shattering, but not bad either.

We then had some dead time, so took a wander around the soggy arena and chilled while the late-running AFRO CELT SOUND SYSTEM did exactly what it said on the tin, mixing some heavy Burundi beats with occasional fiddly diddly stuff. Schizophrenic and a little confusing. Next up, though, were not the scheduled Gypsy Kings, but STARSAILOR, and when singer James Walsh opened his mouth to comment that his band were the youngest people on the site, the heavens totally opened! Umbrellas up and macs on, we nevertheless toughed it out, and despite his obvious nerves, Walsh delivered a pretty good set, influenced by the likes of The Verve but without the pompous arrogance, and with some gentler, Jeff Buckley-like touches. I enjoyed it much more than I expected, despite God going all Old Testament on us, giving these Catholic sinners trying to enjoy the evils of rock'n'roll a good drenching!

Oddly enough, AIMEE MANN then came onstage and the rain stopped! A Bostonian with whom I'm a little unfamiliar, Aimee trotted out a very pleasing set of ear candy pop with occasional bursts of world-weariness or cynicism, which certainly warmed the spirits. Very nice and pretty, but honestly I'm hard pushed to remember anything of the set beyond Aimee's cheekbones now!

Ady and I took the break for some tea then were Big Tent-bound, catching the end of JASON DOWN's strange mix of trad country and abrasive hip-hop. Not my cup of tea at all, but next up was! The tent was heaving for the early evening arrival of TEENAGE FANCLUB, whose presence on this bill (along with Evan Dando) swayed me into coming, and it appeared I wasn't the only one! However, from the opening chord, their summery shimmery guitar pop, sun-kissed melodies and splendidly soothing 3-part harmonies completely chased the rain away, and ensured that this set would be the highlight of the day for me. And the set was;

Near You, Start Again, Verisimilitude, Cabbage, Don't Look Back, Out Of Time, Your Love Is The Place Where I Come From, Neil Jung (dedicated to Main Stage headliner Neil Young!), About You, I Need Direction, I Don't Want Control Of You, (a marvellous) Sparky's Dream, (a totally unexpected but luscious) The Concept.

Everything was delivered with optimism and care, and Set Of The Day was duly won by these Scottish dreamers with Beach Boys in their ears and surf in their songwriting. Great stuff!

Ady popped off to the Main Arena to catch some of the Waterboys set, but I stayed put. Actually, that's not strictly true; I shoved about 10 rows nearer the front, so I was about 5 rows from the stage for the entrance of one of my musical icons, and the real reason why I was at Fleadh... A sparse stage set-up was intruded upon by none other than Marianne Faithful, the 60's ion duly introducing, "one of my greatest friends and a songwriting genius," EVAN DANDO. Evan, now accompanied by Chris Brokaw of Come playing shotgun for him, again delivered a supreme masterclass in holding an audience's attention, and regaled us with a superb acoustic set of his quirky, slightly countrified, slightly drug-ified Lemonhead pop gems. This set was;

The Outdoor Type, Turnpike Down, Down About It, (a brilliantly moody) It's A Shame About Ray, Hannah And Gabi, Hospital, The Great Big No (again featuring some spine-tingling audience call and response), Big Gay Heart, All My Life (an already familiar newie), Fall Down Dead, Into Your Arms, Confetti (almost jolly in Evan's delivery), My Drug Buddy, (a superb) Rudderless, Ride With Me

All were rendered by Evan's marvellously deep, rich baritone. The man may be a bit of a space cadet, but he writes great songs and he's got a superb voice.

Met Ady by the Big Tent afterwards, then joined the rapidly-diminishing queue in the signing tent and got the back of a postcard scribbled on by the main-men from my Set Of The Day hosts Teenage Fanclub. Also, had a few words with the fine chaps as well. Cool!

So, now t'was nearly time for the denouement, evinced by the Main Stage arrival of NEIL YOUNG AND CRAZY HORSE. I caught about 1/2 hour of Young's primal howl music, cranked up to full volume and punishing his battered fender like a medieval slave. I remember writing something similar about Dinosaur Jr's J Mascis once, and the twain are kindred spirits, similarities abounding between these two rootsy, rocky guitar heroes. I also enjoyed Young dedicating a snappy little number, "Piece Of Crap", to new US President, George W Bush. However, Ady and I were heading through the dusk and the mud and the very very drunk people (I don't recall seeing so many people staggering around looking so totally out of it at a festival before!), and also back in time! To the Tiny Tent, where headliners THE MEN THEY COULDN'T HANG had already started up their set. And started as they meant to go on as well, with a great sing-along "Ghosts Of Cable Street", from their classic 1986 album "How Green Is The Valley". Indeed, the vast majority of their set was from those swashbuckling days, when the Men, Red Wedge, slightly Irish influenced fiddly diddly roots rock with political overtones, and black leather waistcoats roamed the land. And a good time was had by all, from the sing-along sway of "Scarlet Ribbons", the immaculately delivered acapella "Barratt's Privateer" by Phil "Swill" Odgers, to the raucous dash through "Ironmasters" and an entirely appropriate "Born To Be Wild".

"We'll be back so long as there's a Fleadh," toasted Men vocalist Stefan Cush to the sweaty masses, also entirely appropriate. Because this festival is a celebration, mainly of Irish culture, heritage and rock'n'roll style, but also of life, all inclusive and all embracing.

So we survived, muddy but elated. My first Fleadh won't be my last, I hope; rain or shine, if it's on, I'll be back!

510 CHRIS COLBOURN AND HILKEN MANCINI, TT The Bear's Place, Cambridge, MA USA, Wednesday 20 June 2001

An early start for the first Boston trip that Rachel and I make as an "official" couple! We leave Swindon at 6 am for a direct flight, getting into Boston's Logan Airport at 1.30 US time. We head over to EdV's (our kind host for this trip), then a quick shopping trip before the first gig of the holiday - straight in tonight at TTs!

However, by this evening, we're both shattered from the early start, flight, time difference etc. But hey, it's Chris! So we force ourselves into action for this thankfully early one. Chris and Hilken take the stage at 9.30 and run through a clutch of new songs, plus a couple of covers; one Rolling Stones song which I don't recognise, and a Dylan number which I believe was "Saved". Chris and Hilken's musical relationship has clearly developed since she "guested" with him last time, and it's quite an effective dynamic now, with Hilken mainly taking lead vocal chores, apart from a couple of numbers which are obviously Chris' own work, sharing the same song structures and dynamics as some of his Buffalo Tom numbers.

We speak to Chris briefly on the way out; we're even more knackered now so we don't have the energy to stick around for headliner Ben Lee. Shame, really, but the sack calls!

511 BLEU, Supp. Jump Little Children, The Paradise, Boston, MA USA, Thursday 21 June 2001

Hot and humid in Boston today, but we hit the record shops up Mass. Ave nevertheless. Then big Dave Wanamaker has an idea... his mate's band Bleu are playing at the Paradise tonight. I'd already got the heads-up on Bleu as they'd won the Rumble last month, so we're more than happy to jump into Dave's $100 car and head on down! Get in free (yay!) and check out the rather loud and promising soundcheck, as well as Bleu's vocalist's huge sideburns! It turns out Dave's friend is former Expanding Man and Senor Happy guitarist Bill Guerra, also one of James Horrigan's friends. Small world - again!

Rach and I find a balcony vantage point in this cool old dilapidated ballroom venue and watch it fill up, but we're down the front for Bleu's set itself. Bleu are extremely dynamic, with big power chords and huge riffs, very overstated and dramatic without veering into pompous territory. The music veers between 70's heavy rock and intelligent post-grunge, with big strident choruses and simple sing-along hooks. They're actually great "live", full of seething power, and it's easy to see how they won the Rumble. A very enjoyable set, which leaves me eager to buy their CD, which I do afterwards from Bleu's vocalist Bleu (!) himself on the merch stand. Bleu warns that the CD is "mellower", and big Dave even suggests that the thing sounds "electronic". I'm puzzled as to how it could, having just seen that hulking great behemoth of a rock show, but okay, whatever...

Jump Little Children, headlining, are a different kettle of fish. They try to be Radiohead (oh no, not here as well!) whilst employing a string section! Odd; we couldn't get them at all so we left, taking a stroll back to our digs, whilst singing the praises of Bleu!

512 THE GRAVEL PIT, Quick Fix, Heavy Stud, D.James M'cle; 513 ROCKETSCIENCE; TT The Bear's Place/ Middle East, Cambridge, MA USA, Friday 22 June 2001

This is what we're here for! A Gravel Pit CD release show double header over the next 2 nights, but first night is a double-header of its' own for us, as we're sneaking off halfway through... After a day CD shopping along Newbury Street, and meeting friend Mark Kraus for lunch, Rachel and I have nevertheless saved our energy for this one. We hit the club as The David James Motorcycle kick-start the evening with some rootsy country rock, like the Gin Blossoms less auspicious moments. They're OK I guess, but Rach and I hit the pool tables instead.

Heavy Stud, next up and featuring EdV's girlfriend Melissa Gibbs (or just "Gibbs" to Ed!) are better, with their shouty Muffs-like punk rock stylings. Pretty fun and snappy, with short and sweet songs. They're done at 10.25, and at this point Rach and I bail out of TTs to head downstairs at the Middle East, to catch the just-started Rocketscience in gig 2 of the night! I was keen to catch them if we could, as I love their CD "A Girl's Name Here", which strikes me like a heavy Teenage Fanclub, melodic yet moody. "Live" however they're surprising; extremely powerful and very mobile, especially the menacing vocalist Andy Galdins, who has the similar wild-eyed manic stare and unsettling craziness of the Crockett's vocalist Davey McManus, and who prompts Rachel to comment, "I'm not entirely not scared of him!" They sadly omit "Killjoy" from their set (despite the fact it was on the set-list - d'oh!), but overall are pretty impressive, the added dynamism and power of their live performance adding to the songs, despite a couple of headscratchers (why swap instruments around if the drummer really can't play guitar very well? And also - please remove the rap number as soon as possible!). We grab a couple of words of praise with bass player Aaron before scooting back to gig 1 of the night at TTs!

We hit TTs again at 11.10 to find, to our dismay, that Quick Fix, who were due on at 11, are considerably more than halfway through their set. D'oh! However, what we do get to hear is pretty sparkling stuff; dark, dynamic and sleazy up-tempo glammy rock, with the hugely imposing frontman figure of Jake Zavracky throwing shapes with wild abandon, and the muppet-haired and semi-naked Shayne Phillips providing the clattering beat. It's great stuff and I'm annoyed that we'd missed even a minute of it, but this is compounded further when I pick up the set-list afterwards, to discover they'd opened with "Underground", not only my favourite QF number, but one which I've never seen them play. D'oh! Yet again!

We run into a fair few folks we know in the packed crowd at this point. Pit manager Michael Creamer, who asks Rachel, "you still hanging out with this guy?" (more so than ever now, Michael!), "The Peach" Pete Stone, who comments that Rach and I getting together was, "only a matter of time", Army Of Jasons frontman Geoff Van Duyne, who promises us some new AOJ stuff, and the manically maned Shayne, who wants to come visit us in the UK! I also run into EdV in the horrible TT's Gents, rather embarrassingly as I'm peeling a Quick Fix sticker off the wall! However Ed doesn't seem to notice, rather diplomatically - he's all suited up for the Pit performance, so I meet Rach and follow him through the crowd to a perfect stage-front spot.

The Gravel Pit hit the stage at 11.45, once again suited up like their heroes The Beatles, Costello and Joe Jackson, and immediately burst into "Baby Gap" from "Mass Avenue Freeze Out", the new CD, whose release these 2 shows are celebrating. It's a bouncy, modish, almost jolly number with a push'n'shove backbeat, and immediately gets Rach and I rocking. The Grunge howl of "Something's Growing Inside", a surprise oldie, is up next, and the incredible guitar work of Lucky Jackson really sends this oft-times leaden track soaring. It's evident that The Pit, fresh and enthusiastic for live work (especially the dynamically flailing Pete Caldes!) and benefiting from their recent hiatus and decision not to tour this sucker to breaking point, are up for this one, and they're no less than awesome. The punkish new wave amphetamine rush of "The Ballad Of The Gravel Pit", their own road movie document, is brilliant and has Rachel and I manically screaming, "do you think we oughtta... OUGHTTA stick around!!" at each other. But really, every one's a winner in this set. Jed Parish is the focal point throughout, thick-set and menacing, Frank Black's evil twin, brandishing maracas and cowbells menacingly, but mainly bashing seven bells out of a battered and road-weary Farfisa. Jackson's high-kicking and EdV's bobbing and weaving like a demented Chuck Berry also catch the eye, but it's also evident that drummer Pete Caldes' appetite for live work is immense, as he's really going for it!

Other highlights are hard to pick out - there's so many! - but Rachel and I waltzing down the front to "Bucket" is fantastic. And why not? This is OUR holiday, OUR band, OUR night! "Ezra Messenger" is brilliant, as is the totally unplanned encore "Officer Dwight Boyd". But really, tonight The Gravel Pit totally excel, and smash their own stratospherically high "live" standards into utter smithereens.

Afterwards, Ed cracks up when he recalls one of my dance moves, and we finally hit the road after catching our breath. We got what we came here for, no messin' - and frankly I'd have swum the bloody Atlantic to see The Gravel Pit on this form!

514 MISHIMA USA, Hi-Fi Records, Jamaica Plain, MA USA, Saturday 23 June 2001

We take the Orange Line over to Forest Hills, getting lost on the wrong South Street (working it out after wandering our way into a wood!) but eventually finding our way to Hi-Fi Records for this in-store appearance. Proprietor Deb Klein recognises us so we nose around the shop trying to find something to buy. I, embarrassingly, can find nothing I want, but luckily Deb doesn't mind. Mishima USA show up and set up at 4, Deb introducing us to drummer Shaun as 2 UK Mishima fans who've flown over for this show - not quite, Deb!

The Mishima duo are eventually ready at 4.30 pm, and kick off a set of their deliciously mesmeric, tuneful and understated guitar pop. It's so smooth, particularly acoustically, that you never really register that there's just 2 of them, drummer Shaun and guitarist/vocalist Arto. Their sound is very mid-80's; acoustic, strum-along, classically structured, which harks back to The Smiths and their ilk. In this intimate environment it works perfectly, and my only complaint is that their set is too short, although Deb manages to wangle an encore out of them to flesh out their set to 6 numbers - the excellent "Frame Relay", which is a fitting end to round off a fine performance.

Afterwards, Rach and I chat briefly to Arto before hitting the road back to EdV's to prepare for tonight. A fun diversion from Mishima this afternoon, but we've got bigger fish to fry tonight!

515 THE GRAVEL PIT, Delta Clutch, Crème Brulee, The Gladstones, TT The Bear's Place, Cambridge, MA USA, Saturday 23 June 2001

Gig 2 of the day, after the Mishima acoustic show this afternoon, is also the "bigger fish"; Day 2 of The Gravel Pit CD release double-header! So we scoot on in early doors, having to pay to get in this time as EdV hadn't turned up with an updated guest-list (D'oh!, but apparently they were getting static for it anyway, so no worries). Hit the pool tables while The Gladstones were on, playing inoffensive but inauspicious strum-along guitar pop and fulfilling their role of undistracting background noise to our pool game perfectly.

We then catch up with friends before checking out Crème Brulee, one of EdV's 5 bands at the moment (yes, really; Pit, Gents, Kay, Crème and Crown Victoria - plus the bass work he's doing for Jules Verdone, who's here tonight and whom we briefly say, "hi," to). Ed and similar workaday drummer Tom Polce ("the dream rhythm section," according to Crème frontman Nathan Brouillet) provide an accomplished and solid base, but it's Nathan who's the real star. Confident, handsome and tousled, Nate is an excellent frontman, cajoling and involving the relatively sparse early-doors crowd. The music itself is a lot harder rocking than the one understated EP they've released to date, and thanks to Nate's riveting performance, Creme Brulee are a surprising holiday bonus.

Main support Delta Clutch, however, are odd and slightly disappointing. The vocalist has a fine range, and the band (including Buffalo Tom's accomplished tour keyboardist Phil Aiken) play an eclectic mix of rock and more soulful pop. Somehow, it just doesn't gel together for me, and Rach and I end up socialising rather than paying attention during their set.

But once again we're here for The Pit, so we venture on through the surprisingly not-full club to an easy vantage point upfront. It seems also that The Pit notice that the place was less full and the atmosphere less anticipatory than last night, as their set opened in an almost subdued manner (well, for them anyway), and needed a couple of "Manifesto" oldies, "Skipping" and the Buddy Holly-esque off-kilter rockabilly of "Favorite Scar" to restore parity. After that, however, they're off; as dynamic, mobile, hard-rocking and stunning as ever. "Ballad Of The Gravel Pit" is once again breathless and bursting, but an unscheduled "Abimelech DuMont", as dark, angry and strident as ever, had them really scraping the sky. After that, they're brilliant! Set closer "Up And Down" is fantastic; a frantic blues romp with a real Lightnin' Hopkins hook, but encore "New Haven" tops the lot - especially as Jed introduces my favourite Gravel Pit number with, "one we've never played before!" The perfect birthday present!

Afterwards, we catch up with some folks, including Army Of Jasons man Geoff Van Duyne, who remembers to bring the CD he promised us last night - good man! I get my pic taken with Jed - the only guy in the club sweatier than me - and we finally head off after another stunning show from The Gravel Pit!

516 ADAM FRANKLIN, SCOTT JANOVITZ, TT The Bear's Place, Cambridge, MA USA, Monday 25 June 2001

A gig pause for my birthday yesterday, which we spent on Boston Common and boating on the swan lake, then a splendid meal in the Italian Quarter with gracious host EdV and Melissa, which Ed pays for despite having been stopped and fined on the drive over for a very minor traffic misdemeanour! Today, however, after a day spent pressy shopping in Quincy, we're up for a gig again! We tried and failed totally to organise a trip to Newport, RI. to see Kay Hanley play an Acoustic Festival, so it's off to TT's instead. It's seemingly a poor second to Kay and Michael at Newport, but its' a damn sight closer and cheaper! Besides which, both of EdV's roommates, Josh Lattanzi and big Dave Wanamaker, are very enthusiastic about this show. So off we go!

We get to the virtually deserted venue at 9 - the entire evening is very sparsely attended and subdued of mood, very much the calm after the storm of the 2 Gravel Pit shows here! - and hit the pool tables, as ever. We're here mainly to check out Scott Janovitz' acoustic set, however, and Scotty is on pretty promptly at 9.30. Being the youngest brother of Buffalo Tom's Bill and the underrated Cold Water Flat's Paul, Scott Janovitz certainly has the right surname - indeed, there are fewer names "righter" in Boston Rock! - but does he have the pedigree? Well, any concerns in that area are dispensed with pretty quickly, as his solo acoustic set is poppy, upbeat and mighty fine. Young Scott has a fine voice, and his material, both solo and from his band Dragstrip Courage, is occasionally touching and melancholy, and well up to the family standard. Scott announces that Dragstrip Courage are doing a support slot Downstairs at the Middle East tomorrow, and immediately a vacant evening is filled.

Adam Franklin, ex of shoegazing staples Swervedriver, is more understated, darker and doomier. It's also odd to hear an English voice in Boston! Josh later describes his set as "awesome"; I wouldn't say that, but the Swervedriver material is good (perhaps prompting a revisit?) and Adam, obviously very competent as a performer, plays for over 1 1/2 hours and chooses a pretty eclectic mix of cover versions (Mott The Hoople's "Roll Away the Stone", Marty Robbins, Shangri-Las and even Libido's "Overthrown"!). So overall, not too poor a second!

517 The Porcupine Tree, DRAGSTRIP COURAGE, The Middle East "Downstairs", Cambridge, MA USA, Tuesday 26 June 2001

The Boston pressure cooker gets hotter; today it's 95F and 89% humidity! So we follow Bill Hicks' advice and, "get the fuck out of the city," hitting the waterfront and going for a refreshing and breezy harbour cruise! But we're back on dry land for tonight's show, a fortunate surprise addition to our itinerary following Dragstrip Courage mainman Scott Janovitz' solo show last night. Another fortunate surprise is that our friend Kevin Camara is on the door of the Middle East in his capacity as promoter! So, 2 bear hugs later, we find ourselves let in for free! Cool!

So it's back in for a longer look at the venue of my onstage Pit antics a couple of years ago. It's not changed, thankfully, resembling a longer and thinner Camden Dingwalls, before they renovated that old place. So we hit the front, stage right, pushing through the clientele of really old people (surprisingly) for Dragstrip Courage. Scott, setting up onstage, recognises us from last night and gives us a wave which is nice. We of course are down the front as, after his fine solo performance last night, we're keen to see what Janovitz Jr. can do, plugged in and banded up, as it were. He eventually takes the stage to start the set and announces, "are you ready for some rock and/or roll?" which gets me on his side straight away. The subsequent set is excellent; lots of chunky chords and heart-tugging chorus lines, and hooks recalling both big brothers' bands Buffalo Tom and Cold Water Flat, but with chord structures, strum-along riffs and chiming harmonies which recalled The Byrds, no less. Scott has the self-deprecating gallows humour of the terminally ignored support - extolling the largely ignorant audience to, "stick around for The Porcupine Tree," was a lovely touch - and the humour and enjoyment is evident in their splendid, relaxed yet committed performance. The best set this holiday by a band not called The Gravel Pit!

We chat to Dragstrip's manager, doing the merch stand, before watching a bit of The Porcupine Tree, a bunch of pompous prog-rock relics not unlike Marillion. We leave after 3 numbers, but not before a chat, mutual compliments and a pic with Scott Janovitz, during which he mentions that Dragstrip Courage are working on getting over to the UK. We'd be glad to have you there, boys!

518 Mancie, DRYER, Trucker, Motorplant, TT The Bear's Place, Cambridge, MA USA, Wednesday 27 June 2001

Following a day continuing our "get the fuck out of the city" theme by spending a lovely day in Salem, exploring the scene of the 1602 Witch Trials, we're nevertheless back in Boston in time for this show. We arrive early at TTs to be enveloped in a huge bear hug from a short chunky Vietnamese chap! Yup, it's Bobby Dryer, who promptly puts us on tonight's guest list - cool! - but then immediately accompanies us to the Middle East Corner restaurant for nosh. We play catch-up with a genuinely wonderful chap, and a Bostonian mate of his, who's such entertaining company (despite his bad leg) that I don't mind springing for his supper as well!

The salmon salad delays our getting back into TTs', so we end up missing most of Motorplant's pleasant sounding set. Played pool pretty much exclusively during second band Trucker, who sported "Tool" t-shirts and sounded harsh and industrial. Interesting in parts, but not my cup of sump oil. Bob does his best to avoid playing us at pool, saying he doesn't want to show us up. Yeah, right...

So Bob instead decides to concentrate on what he's - and we're - here for tonight! Dryer take the stage at a shade before 11, immediately hitting the riff to opener "Starry Skies". It's evident that something's up with the mix, as the guitar sounds coming out of the PA are nothing like as ferocious as Bob's chops, but we start rocking regardless. Dryer put on an energetic and effervescent performance of their choppy and poppy riff-led powerpop, and thankfully the sound sorts itself out. The jagged, angular "Paper Clock" and the moody, moving and magnificent "Wolves", which bassist Rachel Sunday does lead vocals on, spitting out the words with venom and bile, are my highlights of a fine set rescued by their verve and energy from bad mix hell.

Headliners Mancie sound loud and shouty, so we hit the road early into their set, but not before more bearhugs and words of encouragement from the star of the show; good old Bobby Dryer!

520 THE GRAVEL PIT, The Green Room, Providence, RI USA, Friday 29 June 2001

The final gig of our 2001 Boston trip is once again to see the band we were here for in the first place, but at an out-of-town show! We missed the chance to see Kay Hanley in Newport earlier this week, but were determined to see the Pit in Rhode Island! So, we take a commuter train over, book in at the Holiday Inn, then take a walk. However Providence is dead! And a dump! We look for eateries but they're all shut, apart from a grotty looking pizza place which actually turns out not to be too bad. Ed said the Pit would hit town at 8, so knowing his propensity for lateness we arrive at the venue at 9 - only to find it still deserted!

The Pit van (the borrowed Verdone-mobile again!) pulls up shortly thereafter, and we help unload the gear from the lift into the venue, a first floor ballroom hall attached to a snooker club, with cool 50's B-movie posters adorning the walls. "I get to be a Gravel Pit roadie - does life get any better than this!?" I remark to an understandably taken aback Jed. Rachel and I then take up residence on a comfy sofa at the back, next to an older couple whom we later find out are Jed's parents, and stay there to ensure we don't pay, only to subsequently discover there's no cover anyway!

Time clicks by and the place stays empty, with no sign of the "special guest" support, and only "US Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" on the bar TV for distraction. Ed joins us and mentions Providence is always a bit "hit and miss"; it's well and truly "miss" tonight! We also puzzle over the "Providence Phoenix" ad for the gig - it clearly shows The Gentlemen (!) and Ed has no idea as to how they got the pic!

More time clicks by, and the Pit, sans suits tonight, finally get mobilised to play, about midnight. No support, minimal turnout; what a comedown from the 2 triumphant sell-out CD release shows last weekend! Nevertheless, they get stuck into their task with "Baby Gap", which at least gets us Brits bouncing. The whole tenor and atmosphere of the show is relaxed; there's no-one here, no-one gives a shit, so let's just chill and have fun. So they work without a set-list, and just play what the hell they like, and it rocks! The floor is totally ours as well, so Rach and I bop very wildly and ostentatiously, bouncing off opposite walls to the punkish thrash of "The Ballad Of The Gravel Pit", twirling around each other to "Favorite Scar" (which also see me sinking to my knees for the finale) and generally clowning it up. We're not the only clowns on show, though, as Caldes insists on drumming the intro to the moody, squalling "Mosquito" during every break between songs, and Jed is on fine fooling form, cracking us all up (including the usually laid-back, laconic Ed) with quips and references to "the Caldes beat!"

The rock ain't bad either, with the "American Fable" double-header of "Ezra Messenger" and the titanic "Abimelech DuMont" easily my set highlight. The fine dirty blues rant of "Up And Down" caps the set, after which the Pit play an unnecessary couple of requests for the sparse Providence faithful, and finally call a halt about 25 to 2, some one hour and 40 minutes after taking the stage! Afterwards, they all confirm they really enjoyed playing tonight, despite (or even perhaps because of) the poor turnout. Sincere thanks and goodbyes later, we head off to our hotel, convinced that this holiday has demonstrated that The Gravel Pit, with this new CD, have their appetite for rock back, and are subsequently in better form than ever!

The next day is about returning to Boston, including a wonderful breakfast on Newbury Street, then final shopping trips, an unexpected evening out with Kevin Camara and friends, a thunderstorm soaking on the way back to our digs, then an early night in anticipation of an early flight back to Blighty the next day. And back home together this time!

519 Pony, Lemonpeeler, ASTROJET, The Irresponsibles, TT the Bear's Place, Cambridge, MA USA, Thursday 28 June 2001

After a day spent shopping and watching "Quadrophenia" in the company of our friend James Horrigan and fiancée Helen, we're nevertheless still up for some undiscovered rock! We missed the Irresponsibles - a shame, as EdV had said that, "Mike Gent likes them; and Mike Gent doesn't like anybody!" Still, we were there in time for Astrojet, next up just before 10. Featuring Fountains Of Wayne and former Belltower guitarist, the entertainingly vague Jody Porter, this new NYC lot ("only our fourth ever gig," quoth Jody afterwards) were mighty fine! A trippy, hippy and dippy mix of the fried acid rock and slightly-delic pop stylings of bands like the Dylans and even The Stone Roses, The Astrojet were a modern yet retro delight, and even ended their set with a couple of more up-tempo stronger rocking numbers. Thumbs up to Jody!

We were intrigued by Lemonpeeler; an obvious name reference to The Gigolo Aunts, we thought, and with a couple of good reviews in "The Noise" and other local august tomes, we wanted to check them out. However, they turned out to be a standard and somewhat dull country rock outfit, very similar to The Jayhawks or the US Wallflowers. So we headed back to the pool tables!

We emerged again for headliners Pony, who've obviously brought their mates, judging by the reaction. "The Noise" compared them to Velvet Crush and Matthew Sweet, so I was seriously intrigued. However they turn out to be a massive disappointment; loud, clumsy, unstructured, with a David Gedge lookalike on vocals spouting inanities. After 4 numbers we've gotten nowhere near the supposed Crush similarities, and worse, they kicked off a seriously ham-fisted cover of Madonna's "Material Girl", so we decide to head off, pausing only for a hilariously vague conversation with Jody Porter, in which I tell him we're on holiday from the UK and he replies with, "so, uh, you living here now?(!)", and during which he also claims to have been the first person to recommend The Strokes to NME editor Steve Sutherland! Still, vague or not, his band were the freshest thing on the menu tonight!

521 THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS, Cousteau, London Shepherd's Bush Empire, Monday 16 July 2001

Back to gigging in Blighty again, after our Boston trip! It didn't take too long either, thanks to a rare visit to these shores from Brooklyn's finest, the two Johns! So, old TMBG fan "Peej" (who introduced me to this band in the first place, playing me "Shoehorn With Teeth" back in 1988) collected Rachel and myself, and after a slight parking hiccup, we hit the Empire at 7.30 for a huge surprise - it's Monday night, it's TMBG, and yet the place is heaving!

This, unfortunately, meant that we didn't have too much room to move away from the bar and hide from support act Cousteau. I walked away from their Fleadh set, but there was no escape tonight! So we had to endure their inappropriate Nick Cave doomy balladry - apart from, as Peej pointed out, there being more death in Nick Cave songs! The band were OK, but the vocalist sucked big time.

But never mind; we had a treat awaiting us, and at the appointed hour of 9.15, the house lights went down, and white light and cacophonous noise heralded the arrival of the touring 5-piece They Might Be Giants. And immediately into "Angel", their touching, tender finest hour. Wow!

"It's great to play a place with so many... balconies!" the energetic John Flansburgh said, before introducing "Fingertips", their collection of cut-up soundbites from 1992's "Apollo 18" as, "a song we never get right!" I'd disagree; they totally nailed it for me! In fact, the whole of this set was pretty much spot-on; a superb collection of their uniquely oddball simple pop tunes, ranging from their entire recorded canon of work, played with their off-the-wall style and just enough quippy humour to sail this side of self-indulgence. "Birdhouse In Your Soul" ("our hit, back in the day!") was perfect, and rocked this packed-out house, and a raucous "How Does The Sun Shine?" sealed it for me. I'm pretty sure that the sheer amount of people present tonight surprised the 2 Johns as much as it did us, but their performance matched the occasion. Great stuff!

522 SEAFOOD, Easyworld, Cardiff Barfly, Thursday 19 July 2001

After a few days off sick, this was just what I needed; a Seafood gig to get back on track! Unfortunately, we couldn't get the transport sorted out to get to last night's ULU gig showcase, but Kevin Seafood kindly put Rachel, Ady and myself on the guest list for tonight's show. Cool! So, after a quick run-down we parked up in the NCP just round the corner from this new venue in the shadow of both Cardiff Castle and the Millennium Stadium. It's a small and funky downstairs room which, for a "new" venue, already has a "lived-in" look. So we hit the bar, via the merch stall to check out Seafood's "controversial" new sticker and t-shirt design!

Easyworld, support act on at 9, were a young 3-piece who started with a spunky and flippantly urgent number, but then degenerated into generic indie death, sounding variously like poor imitations of Muse and The Verve. Chatted to my Bristol gig pal Tim at the bar instead, and also Kev Seafood, handing over some Boston Rock for him in the process. Apparently last night's ULU show was a roaring success, with 700 through the door and an enthusiastic moshpit!

Tonight, however, there's a few dozen curious Welsh people and a trio of happy travellers from the right side of the Severn Bridge. What a comedown! Still, they didn't let that affect their approach, going about their task in hand with their usual vim and enthusiasm. Opener, "Cloaking", now has the bite of a pissed-off viper and the kick of a rabid mule, and heralded a set made up largely of impressive new songs from their forthcoming album "When Do We Start Fighting?". "Battle" featured David, oddly stationed stage left tonight rather than dead centre, yelping the hook, "wasters come alive," like a scalded cat, but it was the jagged crunch of "Guntrip" which got my coat off and had me forsaking my pledge to take it easy and not dance. Me - not dance to Seafood? Hah! The new numbers dominated this set, light and shade showing clear progression and impressive evolution - they sound like Seafood, no-one else - and the cacophonous double-header of "Porchlight" and the rampant "Folk Song Crisis", with the usual squalling white noise climax, capped another splendid Seafood set.

Afterwards, David came out to thank us for creating a small mosh down the front, and we chatted at length. A sell-out London showcase, a single at their highest ever chart position (64!), a new album ready for release and a forthcoming Reading Festival slot - Seafood are moving upwards, and not before time!

523 BIG STAR, The Posies, London Mean Fiddler, Thursday 9 August 2001

This was finally an opportunity to right an ancient wrong; ever since Reading Festival 1993, when I overlooked the returning Big Star for a note-perfect but sterile New Order set, I've felt a little guilty. Particularly after I'd heard that the Gigolo Aunts and Teenage Fanclub were all grooving down the front... So, we sorted tix for this one and I wasn't about to let a broken collarbone (thanks to footy!) get in my way! Beef (who got separate tix) drove, and we parked up at Shepherd's Bush, hitting the old LA2 sadly too late for first band Arnold.

Ken and Jon from The Posies were, unsurprisingly, the main support for Big Star - unsurprisingly, as they play guitar and bass for Alex Chilton's lot! But first, we had some magical acoustic moments from The Posies' back catalogue, along with a smattering of numbers from their recent "Nice Cheekbones And A PhD" EP. As ever, the vocals were faultless, the harmonies tight and soaring, and set closer "You're The Beautiful One" prompted shivers down my spine as its' stark, haunting and beautiful tune, perfectly rendered, wove its' magic spell.

Despite it being pretty much a given that we wouldn't hear anything better than that tonight, I was really up for Big Star, but Rachel and I sensibly extricated ourselves from the heaving dancefloor and sorted ourselves out on the balcony, bumping into Wannadies vocalist Par Wicksten in the process for a nice chat about their current plans and strategies.

Ken and Jon then returned to the stage, this time as back up boys for the legendary Alex Chilton, main inspiration behind this seminal 70's band Big Star. A whole tranche of my favourite artistes cite this man as a key influence, and it was easy to see the lineage in this splendid performance. Chunky, old school rock'n'roll mixed with touching acoustic balladry, mixed with irresistibly harmonic pop, to deliver a superb aural concoction. "I Am The Cosmos", with vocals from Jon Auer, was an obvious highlight, as was "Thank You Friends" (from whence the Gigolo Aunts appropriated the opening riff for "Mrs. Washington") and the touching "Thirteen", a song Elliott Smith has spent his entire career trying to re-write.

Excellent also was Chilton's enthusiasm; touching 50 and dressed like an accountant on dress-down Friday he may be, but he led Big Star through a 1 1/2 hour set climaxing with an astonishing, if slightly askew, reading of the Beach Boys' classic "Wouldn't It Be Nice", then dragged them back onstage after the 11pm curfew had passed and the house lights had gone on, for a rambunctious workout of KC And The Sunshine Band's disco classic "Get Down Tonite"!

Bits of the set may have dragged a little for me, and I do confess I'd have benefitted from having played my copies of "No. 1 Record" and "Sister Lovers" a little more often of late, but I thoroughly enjoyed this set, and am glad that the ancient wrong has now been set right!

524 U2, Kelis, London Earl's Court, Saturday 18 August 2001

So, U2, my brother's "raison d'être", finally shed the pompous post-ironic fluff and got round to writing some blazing soaring rock tunes again, with "Beautiful Day" easily their best single for 14 years. So this prompted me to go along with "The Budlet" to one of the many shows he's going to, on their current UK tour! Being the ultimate U2 fan, he of course left at 7 am to queue up all day, so I took the train about midday and after some comic shopping met up with him about 4 at Earls Court. He'd been there since 10 am and got his wristband for the inside of "the heart", whatever that was. Latecomers like myself had to be content with general floor admission for this 20,000+ capacity aircraft hanger of a venue.

In at 6.30 after a queue-up in increasing drizzle, and found a space stage right, against the side barriers, on which to rest my injured shoulder. Found out what "the heart" was - effectively 2 ramps from each side of the stage, jutting out 100 feet into the crowd and meeting in the middle!

Unfortunately Earl's Court, as for REM, meant shite support acts again... This time we endured R'n'B so called "diva" Kelis, a shock-haired Tina Turner in waiting who peddled some crappy stilted insipid funk, with power riffs inappropriately thrown in on occasion, and a terrible cover of Eurythmics' "Sweet Dreams". I wanted to move to get away, but the place was already heaving...

Budlet had primed me for the PA intro sequence (Jackie Wilson, Radiohead then U2's own "Elevation"), but nevertheless it was still a slight surprise when the boys sauntered onstage midway through the taped "Elevation" and burst into life. Why? Well, the house lights were still on, for starters... Not for long, though, as Bono, effusive and expressive as ever, gestured dramatically and plunged the place into momentary darkness, immediately followed by stark backlit white light. Pure theatre but welcomed with a huge roar from the sell-out crowd. But showmanship, schmowmanship - I'm here for the music, and I'm pleased to report that this was pretty special as well tonight. "Beautiful Day" was second number in, a crashing soaring chorus-led number, giving the ideal platform for Bono's energetic performance. A haunting "New Year's Day" followed soon after, The Edge weaving piano and zigzaggy guitar melodies perfectly. Happily, this set also eschewed the post-ironic experimentation and stage props of recent times, concentrating on what U2, in my view, do best; soaring, anthemic guitar rock with staccato riffery from The Edge at its' core, and vocal heroics from the extrovert but permanently knackered looking Bono as embellishment. The stage show reflected this; a simple but effective light and shade, silhouette and occasionally swirly psychedelic effects approach, which underpinned and complimented, rather than detracted from (often their problem "live" for me) the music.

The set centred around recent serious-return-to-form CD, "All That You Can't Leave Behind", but also featured oldies such as the still innocent and fresh "I Will Follow", the gloriously sinewy and building "Bad", and "Where The Streets Have No Name", for me the highlight of this set and still one of the most epic introductions to a song, Edge's intricate fretwork weaving with the backing synth and solidity of Adam's bass, to the crescendo and release of Bono's vocal. Great stuff, emotive and evocative.

And we had to have encores as well, following set closer "The Fly", which featured Bono scampering around the heart before running headlong into one of the lighting screens in suitable fly-hits-window fashion. "Bullet The Blue Sky", mighty and dramatic, and accompanied by some uneasy arts-race statistics projected on the backdrop, was followed by a splendid, stripped back "With Or Without You" and some contentious but well-received words from Bono about civil disobedience on behalf of Jubilee 2000. Overall, though, the message tonight was in the music, and the crux of it was that U2 are back to basics, playing rock music "live" and doing so in a fearless and peerless manner. Finally!

525 BOWLING FOR SOUP, Uncle Brian, Shooting Reef, Cardiff Sam's Bar, Wednesday 22 August 2001

Next week, US punk reprobates Bowling For Soup will become the first band (worth going to see!) to play Swindon for, oooh, at least a few years, with their Vic show. And where are we? At the American Hi-Fi show in London! So, this unfortunate clash prompted a plan to head to Cardiff, and friend and fan of the Soupsters Rich was up for it too!

Found the venue reasonably easily and got the beers in. Rich introduced us to BFS vocalist Jaret, so chilled awhile and also met Thom and his Cardiff-domiciled girlfriend Helen, while the enthusiastic but half-formed local support Shooting Reef played their thrashy punk. Main support Uncle Brian were better, doing the skateboard ska-punk thing quite well with an enjoyable set, which prompted Rich to open his wallet for their CD.

Bowling For Soup hit the boards (and boards they were too, in this wood panelled bar) about 10.30, and smashed into a splendid, extremely funny and entertaining set of their bright, fresh new millennial punk rock. Once again, the splendid 3 part harmonies set them apart and above the usual cartoon punkster crowd of Blink 182 wannabees, and these were excellent again tonight, especially during "I Just Want A New Girlfriend". Showmanship was in strong evidence too; during the splendid "Belgium" they slipped in bits from Britney and Eminem songs, then had a competition to try and stick their plectrums into huge guitarist big Chris' butt crack! Also, Jaret grabbed a punter's mobile phone - while he was talking to his girlfriend! - and proceeded to serenade her "live" onstage! This tomfoolery was, of course, notwithstanding the usual plectrum juggling (Chris), face pulling (Jaret) and funny between-song banter. All in all a superb hour-long set and well worth the (very) late night and bleary eyes the next morning. As they put it, Bowling For Soup were, "The Shit!"

526 THE 2001 READING FESTIVAL

Sheriff's Diary - Day 1, Friday 24 August 2001 - It's hot! Damn hot! So much so, that after our (mine, Rachel and our Reading companions this year, Beef and Thom) usual early-doors arrival, wristband exchange and trip to the info tent, all the purple dye I'd diligently spent the previous evening putting into my hair had sweated out down my neck! Yuck! Still, I'm glad I spent ages smearing suntan lotion over my flabby ass! So we hit the arena, and I joined in with Rachel's Reading ritual this year, welcoming in each day's opening act with beer. Today, that was THE DONNAS, once again a screeching sub-Ramones girly set, with one song sounding painfully like da Brudders' "California Sun"! The only notable thing about their set was catching up with the guys from American Hi-Fi, who'd come out to catch them too!

Following the Donnas' last number - a surprising cover of Judas Priest's finest moment "Living After Midnight" which was also the best of this set - we hit the Tiny Tent for a lunchtime wake-up call, passing a couple of duelling radio-controlled wheely-bins spraying water on our way! IKARA COLT were said wake-up call - a mixture of the flat, acerbic delivery of The Fall, and the mutant punky thrash of Sonic Youth or early Seafood, with male/ female call and response vocals. Passionate, committed and disappointingly short (20 minutes!), theirs was nevertheless a damn fine way to kick-start things good and proper! LITTLE HELL, next up here, laid down some pretty trad hard rock, rebel rousing and no less fun for it though. The vocalist (replacing a girly according to Beef, who, let's face it, should know) was the reincarnation of AC/DC's Bon Scott, and a hard bastard too, taking a full plastic bottle full-on in the face without flinching!

Hung around the Big Tent in the sun afterwards, while THE MOLDY PEACHES concluded their NYC cynical cartoon acoustic tomfoolery, also spying an early contender for t-shirt slogan of the weekend; "I Like Cats - They Taste Like Chicken!". Hit the Tent for SOUTH, who skirted around their alt-country reputation with a fine moody and atmospheric set of deliciously discordant guitar work, which recalled Wheat's spikier moments or even early Echo And The Bunnymen without the cocky attitude. Good light and shade musically as well, in an impressive set.

Headed back to the scorching and packed arena for the end of the late-running RUN DMC set; a good "Walk This Way" and some shouty polemics from these hip-hop pioneers got the crowd ignited, not my thing but I was impressed with their audience appeal, which was massive. Then caught EELS' mid-afternoon set; this was very varied, a mixture of the thrillingly noisy (a punk rock version of "I Love Birds"?), crashingly morose and painfully unlistenable, from a stripped down Eels three-piece led by an uncommunicative and heavily bearded E. A tightened-up "Mr' E's Beautiful Blues" rescued it from total Festival fuck-up territory, but overall it was disappointing and an opportunity missed. The Strokes were next up mainstage, but we had a different mission, so we headed over to the Tiny Tent, through the dads-shirt-and-tie clad Strokes massive. Had some acerbic acoustic punk rock to contend with first, though, from one man NYC punk revival HAMILL ON TRIAL, who was voluble, venomous and very funny in equal parts. This however left us stage front for the arrival of the shortest-odds pre-Festival favourites ever!

AMERICAN HI-FI, admittedly old Boston buddies, were said favourites, and were simply awesome. Energetic, passionate, kinetic, high-octane, hook-laden and brilliantly played rock'n'roll from the moment they ran onstage, already guitarred-up, to the moment they incredulously drew their closer "Flavor Of The Weak" to a cacophonous end in front of the frenzied and manic crowd packing out the Tiny Tent and environs. The whole thing - the songs, their incredible performance, the manic crowd reaction - made this one of the most intense and enjoyable gig moments of recent years, and possibly the Greatest Reading Festival Set EVER. Yup, you read right... "You guys rock!" exclaimed an incredulous Stacy, who also introduced magnificently crashing final number "Flavor Of the Weak" with, "I can't believe this is already our last song!" Indeed, "Flavor" was a stormer, the whole crowd singing along with the chorus to Stacy's obvious amazement. All too soon, it was over, leaving myself, Rach and Thom all soaked, elated and totally unable to think straight!

Saw Jamie Hi-Fi briefly afterwards for compliments and set-list scribbles before trying to collect ourselves by hitting the early evening arena for IGGY POP. Got our breath back during the punk godfather's "greatest hits" run-through, the Ig-ster still shirtless and giving it loads well into his 50's. Then hung out with Drew and Stacy Hi-Fi during PJ HARVEY's mainstage set, which I mainly ignored as the scantily-clad Polly has never really been my cup of scream. Also bumped into Jon Auer of the Posies and had a quick chat, before hunting down some tea in the early evening dusk, whilst BS2000 fought a losing battle against Big Tent apathy. Then back to the car for layers, as it's getting dark... took ages to get out of the arena as the Green Day posse were getting in, so a quick dash to the car wasn't enough to be back in time for the start of EVAN DANDO in the Big Tent. Heard the intro as we strode purposefully back through the campsite, then heard opener "Hospital" - with drums! Yikes, Evan's got a full band with him! Ran the rest of the way...

Down the front for the Dando. Despite the band, this was still a laid-back set of Evan's poppier canon of work, alternating between stripped-back "Shame About Ray" numbers and slightly countrified, darker newies. Evan's rich baritone resonated beautifully through friendly old songs as familiar as old slippers, and the band stood back and let the star take the lead. Great stuff, nostalgia for now. And more to come, as a quick dash to the Tiny Tent got us to the last 3 numbers of the annoying and inexplicably clashing POSIES set. Guess what - they had a full band too! Damned the organisers as I wallowed in the shimmering brilliance of their superbly harmonic pop, glad that they'd saved a soaring "Solar Sister" for last. Checked out the American Hi-Fi guys watching from backstage as well!

Back to the Big Tent, stumbling through the dark, for headliners ASH, who kicked ass with their fresh and exciting, summery and harmonic punky guitar pop. "A Life Less Ordinary", always my fave, was 2nd number in, so we caught that then got noodles and listened to the rest of their splendid-sounding set from the steps of the Ben And Jerrys lorry. Ran into the watching Jamie and Brian Hi-Fi after the noodles, then into the Tent for Ash's encore, a splendid "Jack Names The Planets". However, we left the arena tonight with one tune, and one tune only, in our heads following easily the set of the weekend; "TOO STONED! NINTENDO!!!!!"

Sheriff's Diary - Day 2, Saturday 25 August 2001 - Another scorcher! The 1 or 2 raindrops on the walk to the arena turn out to be just that, and the sun then comes out enough to put the sunscreen on again! Down the front of the arena for first band on, again with beer. Noticed Kevin and David from Seafood putting stickers up, so we asked them if they'd sacked their publicist!

TERRIS, first mainstage band, are beset with technical problems which force a false start, but kick up a passionate, acerbic, spiky and confrontational racket when they do get started. Some fine angry screams and jerky Ian Curtis-like dancing from vocalist Gavin as well. A great start! We hit the stalls then to buy new shorts for Rach, then hit the Big Tent for the ZEPHYRS, whose 8-piece string-fuelled set gives new meaning to the word "funereal". They're a terrible dirge and we're happy to leave them to it after a couple of numbers. Stalls again, doing our best to ignore PUBLIC DOMAIN's pointless yo-rap mainstage set, then wander to the Tiny Tent for the final number of DIRTY HARRY's set, which reminded me of Republica's populist synth girly pop.

Have more of a wander into the tent, as THIRTEEN:13 are next up. They're again better and rockier than their poppy but more laid-back CD output suggests, but shades of the Teenage Fanclub harmonics and a bit of Wonderstuff style flippancy combines to produce a nice poppy set. Well attended too; "we didn't expect it to be so hot, +or so full," said the guitarist, to which I shouted, "we're not here to see you, we're sheltering from the sun!" A lie, of course...

Killed some (lunch) time in the arena, getting lollipops from a guy dressed as a fireman and riding a mechanical horse! Ignored OPM on the mainstage, shouting some crappy sub-Chilli Peppers rap about "my homies" which lost something in translation, as they're all white! Caught a bit of VEX RED, who sounded like bad grunge 10 years too late, before hitting mainstage-right for ...AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD. On the mainstage this time, they nevertheless cleaned house with an intense and hard-rocking, if fractured and occasionally messy performance of their angry Texan punk rock. An exciting but uneven set culminated in the usual instrument swapping, throwing shapes and drumkit trash at the end of the thrillingly noisy finale "A Perfect Teenhood", which also resulted in vocalist Conrad doing a tour of the front rows. The only real downer was the idiot stewards chucking water at people just standing there watching! Sure, I know it's hot, but if I want a drenching I'll ask for one, okay? Bastards!

Anyway, better was FRANK BLACK AND THE CATHOLICS. Opening with the sinister bassline of the Pixies "Gouge Away", they played a superbly hand-picked collection of the finest Pixies and Catholics material (no solo Frank stuff, oddly), in a creepy, sleazy, sinister and sexy manner. "All My Ghosts", with a shout-along "oh, oh oooh!" hook, was a splendid highlight as the big man led his professional band through some superb psychotic itchy rock, ranging from biblical pain and despair, to songs of Monkeys and Onions, and when it was all over, simply stood there basking in the deserved adulation for the Set Of The Day. Great!

Met Beef and grabbed late dinner/ early tea during RANCID's blue collar punk/ska set on the main stage. Also queued up for water and met Conrad from ...TOD in the process! Wandered around the outside of the arena during this dead time as well, getting some iced buns in the process as suitable fuel for the forthcoming hectic evening. This started when Rach tuned into the mainstage FEEDER set, from which I saw a couple of good-sounding, hard-edged Brit-rock numbers, then I was off to the Big Tent to check out FOLK IMPLOSION. This lot appear to be to Sebadoh what The Gentlemen are to The Gravel Pit; a chance for Lou Barlow to explore his hitherto unfulfilled rootsier, hard-rocking side. However, as expected from the King of the heart-cracking college rock ballad, they still manage to sound heartfelt and introspective under the swathes of guitar fuzz. You can take the boy out of Sebadoh, it seems, but you can't... well, you get the picture. Hooked up with Rach again, then got a good viewing spot for MY VITRIOL, next up. They were tight, together and very professional, and delivered a fine set of their sparkling, spooky and ethereal rock, merged in with Husker Du-like gut-punching power and pace. The big crowd lapped it up, particularly single "Always: Your Way", and I loved the Pale Saints-like shimmery guitar interludes. Great to see them continuing the upwards trajectory; mainstage next year?

Nipped to the loo then, bumping into Neil Busch from ...TOD for a brief and entertaining chat, then back to the front of the Big Tent for TEENAGE FANCLUB. They were all you'd expect or want; summery, melodic, harmonic, laid-back and relaxing, effervescent, happy and humorous. The chunky sing-along 60's style warm pop went down a storm, with "What You Do To Me" and "Everything Flows" rare and unexpected treasures, but "Sparky's Dream" the real gem. Oh yeh, and Norman's tank top and rocking glockenspiel were highlights, too!

Wandered into the arena just as the MANIC STREET PREACHERS started their mainstage headline set with a thrashy early number, "You Love Us", so we stopped to take in a few numbers. Their set started off in a very give-the-loyal-fans-what-they-want kind of way, with numbers dating from their early, pre-Richie's disappearance years, before they traded their angry punkish polemic in for bloated stadium AOR. A surprising "Motown Junk" was trotted out, and Rach and I lamented that the Manics were playing their early stuff in such a half-assed, ham-fisted manner. Abandoned them after we finished our noodles, and went to check out the much-hyped MOGWAI. Very much a music critic's band, their set was even more depressing than the Zephyrs! Sorry and all, but I found them dirge-like art-wank, and their popularity totally eluded me! So, a little chilly and in search of something at least half-decent to listen to, we hit the Tiny Tent for headliners BACKYARD BABIES, who played dirty Stooges-like rock'n'sleaze, but at least walked it like they talked it. Some conviction from one of the headliners at least, to end day 2!

Sheriff's Diary - Day 3, Sunday 26 August 2001 - Uh oh! This one was overcast and we had some spots of rain on the journey down, but it settled before we arrived to have the usual beer breakfast, and chill out to BOY HITS CAR, who proved to be that rarest of beasts - a Nu-Metal act with some tunes and a bit of respect for their audience. However I spotted Steve Lamacq wandering around so I grabbed him for a quick chat about sending him some Gravel Pit stuff.

Then we wandered over to the Tiny Tent for the last couple of numbers from XPOSURE, who I mainly wanted to see as it completed the whole alphabet of bands that I've seen this year! They were shouty rap metal, surprisingly dressed up as indie pop (no way!) so we endured them just because their name began with X! However we then found out from their flyer guy that they'd changed their name - to Redwood! D'oh! We then hit the Big Tent for HUNDRED REASONS, who veered between pretty good balls-out hard rock, and thrashy inappropriate nu-metal, and had a hairy vocalist who looked like he could be Quick Fix drummer Shayne Phillips' long-lost brother! Stuck around in a good spot down the front afterwards, for SEAFOOD's dramatic entrance. They nevertheless took a couple of numbers to get the sound sorted out, but by the insistent guitar groove of 3rd number "This Is Not An Exit", they'd pretty much nailed it. After that, they were their usual spiky, urgent, spooky, thrilling selves. A splendid rendition of their itchy, moody new single "Splinter" was the highlight of the set for me, whilst set closer "Folk Song Crisis" featured the usual white light and noise, and primal howls. Fantastic and exciting stuff - just as we'd expected!

Popped out into the increasingly damp arena for FEAR FACTORY. Faves of Thom, to me they were tuneless death metal ranting, with a vocalist who sounded as if he was singing down a rusty drainpipe. And Thom reckoned they'd mellowed out recently. From what? Abandoned this noise and got some Chinese food for a late lunch, while GRAND THEFT AUDIO assaulted our ears with some shouty nu-metal mess. I must be getting old - all these nu-metal bands sound the same to me! However, GTA at least had one song with a good groove and a semblance of a tune. Somewhere.

Braved the rain to change tents for the Tiny Tent for HAVEN. The programme promised some "West Coast American influenced pop" and they didn't disappoint with melodies and harmonies worthy of a less earnest version of The Hormones. Lush and melodic, with chiming guitars, Walker Brothers-like soaring choruses (thought the vocalist recalled the nasal tones of Talk Talk's Mark Hollis), they chased the dank rainy dullness of the day away, and pretty much nailed Best New Band of Reading 2001! Stayed there for a couple of numbers from next band up, GLOSS, who reminded me of Posh, with their sugary girly pop sound. Didn't really hear too much of the supposed Blondie comparisons; they were more like St. Etienne. Blondie had more balls, musically at least!

The rain stopped - probably thanks to Haven's Summery sound! - so we hit the arena, via the merch stand to buy a very rude Seafood t-shirt, for THE CULT. They played some good old old-school gothy rock, all dark and strident with big extravagant gestures and choruses. Old boy Ian Astbury was the clown of the day, making an entertaining twat of himself, slagging off the stewards, Carling, the facilities, people who don't listen to him, Clark's shoes, Arsenal fans, Eminem, and pretty much everyone else! Evertonian Astbury even had a burst of, "we are top of the league," but generally left it to the entertaining 80's dark gothic rock of the likes of "She Sells Sanctuary". Stuck around for QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE's early evening set, which Nick Olivieri played naked, apart from his guitar! They kicked off some fuzzy and muddy old US hard rock, which at least had some verses and choruses. However we left after the druggy footy chant "Feel Good Hit Of The Sumer", and went into the Big Tent for LOWGOLD, who again were rockier than their lazy, introspective CD suggested. Still not sure I can hear the supposed Buffalo Tom influences, but some nice moody touches embellished a fine set. A solo acoustic number from vocalist Darren, which he described as, "the scariest thing I've ever done," preceded a fine and moody "Beauty Dies Young" and some wig-out rock licks as well. Good stuff!

Had a quick trip to the car for more layers for the evening, then stopped off in the Tiny Tent on the way back for CAT POWER. Hung out with Kevin Seafood during this deathly quiet set; we couldn't hear her over the monumental racket from mainstage's PAPA ROACH, so we went shopping instead! Shopped till we dropped - thus missing Clearlake in the Tiny Tent, then headed over to the Big Tent for the second half of STEVEN MALKMUS' set. I was never a big Pavement fan, but his solo stuff is more straightforward, less oblique and thus much less hard work. I enjoyed it; it rocked in the right places, and swooned and harmonised in the other right places, aided and abetted by a short female backing vocalist. Some good honest powerpop a la Brian Charles/ Tommy Keene was augmented by an impromptu and quite accurate "Heart Of Glass" cover. A nice touch!

So we arrived at the denouement of this Festival, and we stayed in the Big Tent for headliners MERCURY REV. A couple of years since their last UK appearance, so we were expecting a lot; and weren't disappointed. Songs of class, style, substance and elegance were played in an awesome, thrilling and majestic manner. "Deserter's Songs" material dovetailed in magnificently with some superb songs from new CD "All Is Dream", particularly breathtaking new number "The Dark Is Rising", with its dreamscape stark verse and choirs-of-angels crescendo, prompting Rach to turn to me and say, "what the hell was THAT??!!!" What indeed - a band whose skewed take on reality allows them to produce music of soaring, otherworldly beauty. Jonathan Donahue, the glacially cool Rev vocalist and still the coolest rock star in this or any other universe, was more effusive than normal, thanking the astonished audience and even conducting the 6-piece touring Rev like an orchestra. Brilliant stuff, with "Frittering" the magnificent gem at its' core.

So we left Reading 2001 with the majesty of Mercury Rev ringing in our ears. Ordinarily, that would have been more than enough to win "Set Of The Weekend", but this year four upstarts from Boston have delivered The Single Greatest EVER Reading Festival Set. A half-hour of intense, incandescent brilliance on Friday afternoon, made this the year of AMERICAN HI-FI. And don't you damn well forget it!

THE SHERIFF 2001 READING FESTIVAL AWARDS

FRIDAY BEST - 1. AMERICAN HI-FI, 2. EVAN DANDO, 3. THE POSIES (of 15)
SATURDAY BEST - 1. FRANK BLACK AND THE CATHOLICS, 2. TEENAGE FANCLUB, 3. ...AND YOU WILL KNOW US BY THE TRAIL OF DEAD (of 16)
SUNDAY BEST - 1. MERCURY REV, 2. SEAFOOD, 3. HAVEN (of 15)

OVERALL - 1. AMERICAN HI-FI, 2. MERCURY REV, 3. FRANK BLACK AND THE CATHOLICS, 4. SEAFOOD, 5. TEENAGE FANCLUB (of 46)

BEST NEW BAND - 1. HAVEN, 2. IKARA COLT, 3. SOUTH
CRAP! - 1. ALL NU-METAL BANDS, 2. MOGWAI, 3.THE ZEPHYRS
SORRY I MISSED - The majority of THE POSIES and all of THE STROKES. Scheduling, schmeduling...

STARS OF THE SHOW - THE HI-FI! No-one else got close.