884 THE 2013 READING FESTIVAL (Sunday only), Reading Festival Site, Richfield Avenue Reading, Sunday 25 August 2013

A return to Reading Festival for me after a 9 year absence had its’ genesis in gig 850 last June, Biffy Clyro’s surprise trip to the Oasis and my son Evan’s first rock gig proper. He loved it so much, we promised we’d try to get him down when they were playing their next album tour; but couldn’t quite make that work when they toured their excellent “Opposites” album in March this year. However, when I heard they were stepping up to the big time, and headlining the Sunday at Reading Festival, I hatched a plan to take Evan, which came to fruition!

Thus was a gig hiatus of over 2 months (!) ended, as Evan and I caught the train on a dank and drizzly Sunday morning, both apprehensive for different reasons. Evan nervous as he’d never been to a Festival before, and me wondering whether the things that stopped us going back in 2004 (overcrowding, crap facilities, generally unhelpful and occasionally hostile vibe) would still be prevalent 9 years later. Arrival at the new Reading Station saw us heading out on a North entrance; very handy for the Festival site! Our arrival onsite continued a good impression, with easy access/ egress boding well for a quick getaway. Our wristband march took us through lots of barriers which as they were empty was a bit of a pain, but I could see the advantage over the free-for-all of the past. We ran into Andy Fenton immediately after getting our wristbands, which was a great help – during our walk to the back of the arena, he genned us in on the recent changes (apparently the arena itself has been increased by 1/3 over last year, with no more tickets sold – great!). The site itself is now massive, but everything seems better organised and laid out, and ticking along like clockwork.

Found the amply-sized tent housing the Festival Republic stage, where we intended to spend much of the early afternoon. BATTLE LINES kicked off at a frightfully early 11.15; musically they were an ethereal, 2.54 type of band, all swirling keyboards and shimmering guitars, however the female vocalist had too much of the strident, yelping Flozzer-isms for my liking, which made it all a bit jarring. Still, heard worse.

“Please sing along to this next song, it’s about stalking people,” SAN CISCO’s female drummer announced before one of their early numbers. SC brought some Summery jangle-pop to this early lazy Reading vibe, all jaunty and C86-influenced, like an Antipodean North Of Cornwallis, and got a much larger, girlier and more receptive crowd clapping along. Their purple beach ball freebies suited their music, although there were only a few of them bouncing over the crowd…

Took a walk outside into the arena while BURY TOMORROW were burying the ghost of Nu-Metal onstage with really poor shouty date rape rock. The vocalist announced their all-time favourite band as Slipknot. Says it all, really… We were however back in the FR tent for CHINA RATS, a swaggering, confident listen, like the Vaccines channelling early Rolling Stones instead of Buddy Holly. An early t-shirt of the day contender (“Have You Seen This Unicorn?”) was the only distraction from this fine, strident guitar set.

Back into the arena as the sun finally broke through, taking a walk right of the main stage during Poughkeepsie ’s WE ARE THE IN CROWD’s mainstage set of sub-Paramore powerpop punk rock. Very occasionally Cleos-like when they powered down a gear or two, they delivered a likeable and energetic clutch of tuneage, and left a favourable impression, which may or may not have been helped by the bouncy and effervescent female vocalist… Some dead time saw us take a wander around the stalls, passing the biggest tent, the Radio 1 stage, where THE VILLAGERS were peddling some low-key folky country. Then we stumbled upon the tiniest Reading tent ever, the BBC1 Introducing stage, which was basically under an awning! Two-piece TO BE FRANK were kicking off a slow-burning keyboard/ drum machine set, but to be Frank they sounded dull and droney, so we carried on our wander, trying to avoid the mainstage-bound HADOUKEN massive, plus the shouty and incoherent yo-funk crap emanating from the object of their collective affections.

This landed us back in the FR tent for THE FAMILY RAIN, a band of 3 brothers playing a primal and embryonic bluesy howl. A little incoherent,but they drew a decent crowd. I was however more up for the subsequent CALIFORNIA X set; this bunch of reprobates looked like a group of young J Mascis clones (all hair and vintage Wipers t-shirts!) and clearly grew up on a diet of Dinosaur Jr., Pixies, Nirvana and early Lemonheads with their proto grunge rock partying like it was still 1992. Noisy, lazy and rather splendid actually, the only disappointing aspect being a lack of set-list for me to swipe from the bassist afterwards! Then back into a sun-drenched and dusty main arena for the mid-afternoon DON BROCO. Billed as the new Biffy Clyro (hey, aren’t they all…), they actually veered between macho but listenable rock and occasionally jarring generic nu/ rap metal, although the vocalist actually reminded me of 80’s funksters Hue And Cry, although that might have been due to his scattergun vocal style and neat haircut. A lot of crowdpleasing sing/ shoutalong antics punctuated an OK, audience participative set.

One quick loo stop later, we headed down the front as far as possible, stage left, whilst ominous dark and threatening skies gathered – a little too early perhaps? Let me explain. I’d mentioned to Evan that EDI TORS would benefit from some dark foreboding clouds during their mid-afternoon set to envelop their brooding rock, and the weather almost arrived on cue, forcing us to don raincoats briefly for the only time today. However, it cleared quickly and a weak but persistent sun accompanied Tom and the boys onstage, for their slow-burn and dramatic opener “Sugar”. Then into the familiar, speedy staccato guitar riff of “ Munich ”, and we were away…

Now a beefed-up 5-piece, Editors were initially rather superb, an angular “End Has A Start” followed by the Bunnymen “Cutter”-isms of the dramatic “Ton Of Love”, the highlight of their current, slightly lower-key CD “The Weight Of Your Love”. However the set mid-section did feel slightly muted, with understated new single “Formaldehyde” being followed by a discordant and slightly jarring “Blood Drool”. It took an immense “Racing Rats” to pull the set back, Tom’s piano lead giving way to a wild, rip-roaring rendition, and a final double-header of “Smokers”, soaring and dramatic, was even capped by a seething and menacing “Papillon”, Tom and the boys lengthening the climax into a thrashy and hectic crescendo. Great stuff overall – follow that, Biffy!

This now took us to 5 pm, so we had noodles and free drinks (!) for tea, eating them in our spot over by the FR tent to the chuntering sounds of FRANKIE AND THE HEARTSTRINGS’ at-times thrashy pop, at times jangly rumpus, but mostly innocuous background noise for us. When the Frankie massive emptied, we wandered in, running into the California X boys for a chat and some pix. Nice guys. They suggested we check out MERCHANDISE, next up, who were on my to-do list anyway; though seemingly not on many other peoples’, as they came on to a surprisingly sparse crowd. Those there were however witness to an intriguing, absorbing and mighty fine set of textured, flowing and slightly 80’s tinged rockist stuff, with each often lengthy number intelligently constructed, usually without the jarring presence of such niceties as choruses to interrupt the flow. This set was difficult to pigeonhole (a Stills guitar shimmer here, a Smiths vocal inflection there), but very very easy to enjoy. “You’re already kicking the shit out of Leeds ,” remarked impressively strident voiced singer Carson Cox after an early number, and honestly Merchandise kicked the shit out of the tent with this, the Best New Band set of the day.

Chilled in the main arena during the arse end of FALLOUT BOY’s set of surprisingly low-key and very forgettable pop. A collapsed drunk girl receiving some medical attention in front of us was actually more memorable and entertaining than the onstage fayre, at least until the end when FOB cranked it up a notch with some punkier singalong stuff. A surprisingly quick trip to a surprisingly clean loo then preceded a wander down the front for NINE INCH NAILS’ set. Bumped into the Merchandise lads in a surprisingly quiet arena (I’m being surprised a lot this evening, aren’t I?) before US alt-rock legend Trent Reznor led the latest NIN incarnation onstage. I’ve never been a fan, really, finding their usual post-grunge funk hard on the ears, however this set started off with some eerie, synth-embellished and libidinous numbers, carrying on in a similar vein, some shards of harsher industrial goth guitar being the exception rather than the rule. Music as swirling as the clouds of dry ice which enveloped the backlit stage, this, and for me a pleasant surprise. A throwaway comment from Reznor midway through the set, “fuck rock’n’roll, by the way,”
encapsulated both his approach to this set, and his frame of mind tonight (we later found out that Mr. Grumpypants Reznor took to Twitter complaining about the promoter and “the band following us – whoever the fuck they are” – ouch!), although the set closed out with some noisier and more full-on gothy rock.

As evening wrapped a darkening shroud around the arena and stage, we took the opportunity of the NIN massive leaving to push forward, Evan enthusiastically leading the way. We’re gonna get squished… A curtain covered the stage as the tell-tale sounds of construction emanated from behind it, as the arena became more crowded and anticipatory. After half a dozen Reading Festival appearances in the last 10 years or so, on various stages at various times, The Biff are headlining the whole damn show – are they ready for it?

Finally the witching hour arrived, and puzzlingly, Sister Sledge’s 70’s cheesy disco classic “We Are Family” cranked out loudly from the stage. Then a hush, as the opening note of “Different People” built from behind the curtain, and Simon Neil of BIFFY CLYRO, bare-chested and guitarred-up, wandered onstage to conduct the crowd in the opening lines of this, the perfect set opener. As it burst into jagged, amphetamine-fuelled life, the curtain dropped to reveal the ornate, elaborate tree/ circulatory system set-up of their tour. Dramatic and eye-catching.

The Biff powered relentlessly through openers “Golden Rule” and “Who’s Got A Match”, fittingly accompanied by bursts of flame from the top of the stage, so close to us in our stage left slot, about 10 rows back, that we could feel the intensity of the heat, matching the onstage performance. An element of nervousness was expected, given their comments that they were, “fucking shitting ourselves!” about headlining the Festival, but these emotions were being suppressed by the commitment of their performance, and the rapturous reaction from the immense crowd, singing along to pretty much everything from note one. All enveloping, all inclusive.

“Reading, it’s a fucking honour to be closing your weekend,” Simon announced before “Sounds Like Balloons,” the huge crashing singalong to its’ chorus causing an barely-suppressed grin to break out across the frontman’s face. He was bloody loving this, and so were we. “This is where the real magic happens,” he remarked as he wandered down their personally-constructed catwalk for a titanic “Biblical”. The white noise and hand-held strobe theatre of “Glitter And Trauma” was a stunning highlight, leading into a brilliant “Bubbles”, a poppy build-up again crashing into a huge stadium rock chorus, resonating through the inky night around the packed arena.

“This song is very dear to me and is for anyone who’s lost someone,” Simon said by way of introduction to a stripped bare, heartbreaking acoustic “Folding Stars”, bringing a lump to the throat and definitely a magnificent set highlight. The hook of the subsequent “Machines”, “take the pieces and build them skyward,” served as testament to their work as a band who’ve paid their dues on smaller stages, smaller slots, to finally crack the big time. This is their time in the light, and they’re taking full advantage of it. Good for you, Biffy!

Back to the rock for the pyro-accompanied “Living Is A Problem Because Everything Dies”, a soaring “Many Of Horror” climaxed by a ticker tape launch, then more heartfelt but never gushing sincerity from Simon (“Reading, we’ve been looking forward to this weekend all year so thanks for making it special for us”) before set closer “The Captain” saw Simon, Hendrix-like, take a flare and set fire to his guitar in a dramatic burst of punk rock theatre, walking off with rock hands aloft.

A 3 song encore climaxed with a brilliant “Mountains” and a fireworks display, ending the thrilling, rampaging Set Of The Day from a band fully justifying their elevation to the big time. By this time we’d extricated ourselves from the busy but habitable mosh, and on the final note headed off to the station, an easy jog back getting us there well in time for our train. Elated about how easy and well-organised today had been, happy that I could share it with my son (who described the day as, “one of the most intense experiences of my life”), and thrilled at seeing Biffy Clyro, in their pomp, slay the Festival. Only one way to end this report, I believe – Mon The Biff!

191 THE 1991 READING FESTIVAL

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 1, FRIDAY 23 AUGUST 1991

My first time at a 3 day Festival; after resisting for so long, the boys have finally persuaded me around to going! However I approached it with serious trepidation, given my legendary aversion to camping, and also given that it was raining when we got off the train and set off for the Festival site! So we got to the campsite at midday and set up tents in the pissing rain; it's getting even worse! Still, at least we had a good spot in the field directly behind the main arena. We were unfortunately surrounded by 50,000 mad students on acid!

The weather cleared up for early afternoon, in time for the start of the music, so we ventured into the main arena, having sorted out our fetchingly pink weekend wristbands. First up, THE HONEYTHIEVES, were a horrible imitation of mid-west rawk'n'roll, who sounded ham-fisted and poor, so I ignored them whilst tucking into my first Reading hog roast! BABES IN TOYLAND, next up, had their moments, but unfortunately too few and far between. 3 girls who like to make a noise, their harpy screaming and screeching occasionally got grating. Kat, their vocalist, dearly wishes she was Kristen Hersh of Throwing Muses, but falls way short.

SILVERFISH sounded loud and crap; Ady liked them but I adjourned to the tent for RAIN, who played a good old fashioned guitar rock set. Unspectacular but cool, with "Inside Out", their closing number, a highlight. I then decided to stay in the tent as an afterthought, thereby missing the mainstage Nirvana set in favour of THE BELLTOWER. However this was my first Festival highlight; their hard-rocking yet thoughtful and considered punk set reminded me of The Parachute Men, no less. A massive compliment, but an excellent set!

Out for CHAPTERHOUSE's poor sound-blighted mainstage set, just the thing their Pale Saints/ Lush like ethereal shoegaze set didn't need. "Pearl" was however, a pearl, as the sound improved. I then went walkies during DINOSAUR JR., who played an unbearably noisy set, but which was better than the subsequent POP WILL EAT ITSELF debacle. The sun came out for PWEI; God knows why as they were total bollocks! I hated their prancing, tape-machine powered brand of samey and ultimately extremely irritating electro crap rap, and left halfway through to queue up in the Comedy Tent as evening fell, meeting up with Veronica (camping with her mates). We were kept waiting until 8.30 for the arrival of FRANK SIDEBOTTOM, but it was worth it as he was, well, totally bobbins! Bad jokes and keyboard cover versions of Kylie, Queen and Beatles records performed by a man with an AC Milan footy kit, a papier mache head, a clothes peg on his nose and a cardboard puppet with a sado-masochistic streak. Crazy? You bet, but a shitload of fun with it! Stayed there to see DENIS LEARY's subsequent stand-up set. A foul-mouthed and acerbic American comedian/ social commentator who attacked such subjects as the Gulf war, non-smokers, do-gooders (Sting getting a real slating here) and the French, with vitriol and vengeance. My sides ached!

As night fell, I saw a few minutes of GUY CLARKE AND TOWNES VAN ZANDT's retro acoustic hippy-sounding set, then enough of IGGY POP on the mainstage to realise he's a clichéd rock caricature of... himself, actually! By this time I was also totally knackered, so it was off to bed. Or at least, to bag!

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 2, SATURDAY 24 AUGUST 1991

A bad night. My tentmate Rich's snoring and the lumpy ground we've camped on do not add up to pleasant dreams. Still, at least the rain held off and the toilet facilities aren't as primitive as I'd been led to believe; just massive queues for them! When we eventually got going, we had a game of footy by the river with Ady's mates from Southampton, resulting in a 12-10 victory for Swindon!

Into the main arena at midday for MERCURY REV's sinister rumble of a set, which was nevertheless a good opener. KINGMAKER were next up; they were ace, cool as fuck and enjoying themselves as well. Bassist Miles' t-shirt, "I'm In A Fooking Band, Me!" says volumes about their fresh and positive attitude. Following on, the self-proclaimed most uncool band at Reading Festival took the stage, although I could think of many uncooler bands than THE FAT LADY SINGS, who touched us with their harmony and emotion, rocked out with smiles and joyful tunes, and entertained with vocalist Nick Kelly's self-deprecating attitude. "Arclight" was fabulous live, and TFLS were the first serious contender for best band of the weekend.

Took a wander out of the arena, missing Flowered Up, but popped back in for TEENAGE FANCLUB and their patchy, far from, "perfect, Norman, perfect," set of lazy guitar noise, with single of the year contender "Star Sign" an excellent, and notable, exception. Into the tent then for THE SOUTHERNAIRES none too good mid-west AOR set, and THOUSAND YARD STARE's subsequent bouncy, mature set of shit-kicking pop music which, after the Southernaires' boredom, really set the tent alight. Good stuff, and more followed, as THE DYLANS transported us to Planet Love with their baggy, but hazy slightly-delic pop, very 60's influenced but which also had traces of their forefathers, the excellent 1000 Violins.

Early evening now; THE FALL, on the main stage, were their usual abrasive selves, with Mark E Smith in top form and "Hi-Tension Line" and "Edinburgh Man" notable highlights. Back in the tent for POWER OF DREAMS' powerful and dynamic, yet heartstring-tugging set of fast-paced rock which fair took my breath away. Brilliant stuff! Out again for 20 minutes of CARTER THE UNSTOPPABLE SEX MACHINE, which as you'd expect was a set of beatbox battle-hymns played largely on remote control.

Into the tent again - frantic stuff, this! Inoutinoutinout... - for the evening set from FIVE THIRTY. And this was a real winner; their white-hot white-light set, culled mostly from album "Bed" but so much better "live", was dynamic and colourful, rocking and dancey at the same time, and culminated in a majestic version of "13th Disciple". Utterly brilliant, and a set which ultimately garnered them Best Band of the Weekend honours by a nose. Finally, the now very popular JAMES headlined in the main arena. Tim Booth is now very much the audience mass communicator, but despite old favourites "Hymn From A Village", "Johnny Yen" and "What For", I was disappointed by their set, especially the new songs which veer far too much towards stadium rock blandness, one of which sounding exactly like Simple Minds' "Don't You Forget About Me" (the turning point for that band into bland megastardom), right down to the "la, la la la la"'s. I adjourned to bed after that, but in retrospect I wish I'd stayed for Edwyn Collins' tent set; apparently he was told to cut his set short and ended up scrapping with the stewards!

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 3, SUNDAY 25 AUGUST 1991

A better night's sleep last night, despite some raucous drunkenness from the boys late into the night. I think my Reading Festival goals (to see loads of bands) and theirs (to get pissed up) are becoming increasingly incompatible... Still, another rousing game of football by the river sorted us out, as the Swindon and So'ton posses combined to give a footballing lesson to the Marquee "Smith" tent, 10 huge bruisers from Manchester. It finished 8-5 and I got a first half hat-trick, which was good really as I spent the second half either falling down or sunbathing!

Into the arena at midday again for openers THE FAMILY CAT, who played a surprisingly very good set of thrashy guitar surf-jam pop mizzik with "Remember What It Is" a highlight. SCREAMING TARGET, late replacements for Bongwater (shame, I wanted to check them out...) then played a turgid set of "brothahs and sistah's" rabble-rousing yo-funk which didn't impress me. I then met up with Veronica and had a lay down by the river during SWERVEDRIVER's loud and crap set, which we could still hear from where we were! We made our way back at 2.30 and basked in the arena sun during KITCHENS OF DISTINCTION's dreamy atmospheric pop set, which was ideal for closing your eyes and drifting off to; so I did, apart from the excellent "The 3rd Time We Opened The Capsule" which got me on my feet.

THE SENSELESS THINGS, next up, were a bit of a mega-pop blast row, unfortunately. Not one of the highlights (which compere John Peel said they were last year, apparently...). Got some tea during NITZER EBB's boring industrial lumpen funk set, amusing ourselves laughing at the lead singer's prominent packet! Wandered into the tent afterwards for THE POOH STICKS, but wandered out again after 2 numbers of their embarrassingly bad 6th form college punk rock with shit lyrics. It was apparently their last "live" performance. Good riddance!

Enjoyed the early evening sun just outside the tent with the boys and various other Swindonians, listening to THE CATHERINE WHEEL, whose heavy guitar dance thrash wah wah feedback driven guitar set was quite impressive. Next up, DR. PHIBES AND THE HOUSE OF WAX EQUATIONS were as bad as their name, loud and distorted and sounding like a very poor man's Killing Joke. Utter rubbish. FATIMA MANSIONS then gave Dr. Phibes a lesson in controlled anger and aggression during their loud, intense set, led by vocalist Cathal Couglan, a man who puts some real passion into his vocals. "Blues For Ceaucescu" was simply stunning.

Came into the main arena again for part of NEDS ATOMIC DUSTBIN's set, which struck me as samey, turgid and boring, and much better on vinyl actually, but really another band whose popularity eludes me. Decided to return to the tent for the last half hour of THE CROPDUSTERS' fiddly diddly raggle taggle good time had by all set, which was actually much more fun than the Neds! Then finally, Veronica's highlight THE NEW FAST AUTOMATIC DAFFODILS played a blinder and turned the tent into a small club with their electric taut dance music going down a storm. The set seemed to fly by; no doubt about it, I'm becoming converted to the New FADs! Another festival highlight, especially "Big".

That was it for us, as we had no interest in the headliners. So Veronica and I got on a train and went home, having survived it with bowels, ears and sanity (relatively) intact. Next year, however, I'll either go Bed And Breakfast - or commute!


THE SHERIFF 1991 READING FESTIVAL AWARDS

Friday Best: 1. THE BELLTOWER, 2. DENIS LEARY, 3. FRANK SIDEBOTTOM (of 12)
Saturday Best: 1. FIVE THIRTY, 2. THE FAT LADY SINGS, 3. POWER OF DREAMS (of 12)
Sunday Best: 1. NEW FAST AUTOMATIC DAFFODILS , 2. KITCHENS OF DISTINCTION, 3. FATIMA MANSIONS (of 13)

OVERALL - 1. FIVE THIRTY, 2. THE FAT LADY SINGS, 3. NEW FAST AUTOMATIC DAFFODILS , 4. POWER OF DREAMS, 5. THE BELLTOWER (of 37)

Best New Band: 1. THE BELLTOWER
Crap! 1. POP WILL EAT ITSELF, by a million miles!
Sorry I Missed: REVOLVER, AMERICAN MUSIC CLUB, THE CANDYSKINS, EDWYN COLLINS (!)
Stars Of The Show: 1. Tara Milton of FIVE THIRTY, 2. Nick Kelly of THE FAT LADY SINGS , 3. ME (Hat Trick Hero!)

219 THE 1992 READING FESTIVAL

SHERIFF'S DIARY, DAY 1 - FRIDAY 28 AUGUST 1992

Bollocks to camping! Remembering last year's sleepless nightmare (which I appreciate is somewhat of an oxymoron), and with the forecast for inclement weather this weekend, I decided to travel up and down every day and get some proper kip in my own bed at night!

The weather was OK the first day, so I travelled up with the happy campers, pitching their tents in the field directly behind the arena, then got the festival gear in; namely comedy Clive beads, and Soke style bandanas!

Kicking off musical festivities in the main arena were REDD KROSS at 2; a girlie in pink trouser suit introducing the set with the keyboard refrain to "The Candyman Can", leading on a weird set of chaps (including the vocalist in a shiny yellow top and basin hair, and also a hillbilly!) who played an initially leaden but ultimately worthy set of dirty seventies style retro glam rock'n'roll. FATIMA MANSIONS followed, and disappointed with a patchy struggle of a set, despite vocalist Cathal Coughlan's obvious intense conviction. Made me wonder how many other people cared what he was talking about. "Only Losers Take The Bus" was the best of a set, the end of which I missed while wandering around the arena, passing SOME HAVE FINS' noisy tent set on the way.

I returned to the tent shortly afterwards for the last half of a LEATHERFACE set which made me so pissed off I'd missed the first half! T'was the bollocks; loud driving rock with urgent, memorable tunes in a Husker Du meets Motorhead kind of way. A cover of "(I Can't Help) Falling In Love With You" climaxed a breathtaking set. Ugly as fuck and from Sunderland they may be, but they cranked out a helluva noise and had compere John Peel commenting on the main arena PA, "I've just come from the tent and if you weren't there you've missed a shit hot set!"

Met up with the boys at base camp afterwards, and decamped to the arena for MEGA CITY FOUR's disappointingly samey set - all the songs being similarly rhythmed and merging into each other. Dull, I'm afraid. Next up, PJ HARVEY graced us with her presence; clad in PVC, she played a dodgy set in keeping with her patchy debut LP "Dry". I didn't stop for the set as I was tent-bound for a potential first day highlight, but as I left the arena it seemed to be going South for poor old Polly, with one song being stopped halfway through and re-started. "Dress", second number in, was good, though.

GOD MACHINE, running late in the tent on my arrival, were loud and pretentious; their set seemed interminably long, but when they finally finished I pushed to the front for said first day highlight. Onto the barriers for MIDWAY STILL; they rushed through a high-octane set of confident, breathtaking guitar-driven power rock, highlighting their new EP material, but with "Better Than Before" the set highlight. Excellent, and living up to my expectations!

Early evening now, as I came into the arena for PUBLIC IMAGE LTD., who were sad, old, out of date and out of touch. John Lydon seemed to have nothing better to do than insult the audience, so I got some grub in and ignored it! Popped back in to the tent briefly for CRACKER's gawkily appealing, Noo Yawk cool set of driving pop rock with a slight country lilt. Nice, but nothing stuck, really. Back into the arena - hectic stuff, this - for all of THE CHARLATANS' pleasant retro 60's keyboard fuelled pop set. I lay down in the twilight and let their greatest hits set wash over me.

Then it was headliner time, as THE WONDERSTUFF blitzed the crowd with lasers, and wowed them with a top set of their unique slightly-delic fiddle powered flippant guitar pop. Miles was in excellent form, flippant as ever ("how the fuck are ya!"), and they dragged on Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer for the inevitable encore "Dizzy", which I actually missed as I hit the road at the end of their set proper to head for the station and home. And a good night's kip!

SHERIFF'S DIARY, DAY 2 - SATURDAY 29 AUGUST 1992

Rumours of inclement weather being (so far) exaggerated, I dragged Clive out today; he drove and we parked directly outside the campsite, then we met up with the boys at base camp - all with comedy Clive beads on!

Sensitise, due on at 12 in the tent, were replaced by a brassy Latin salsa outfit called JUPITERS, so as this wasn't my cup of tea, I popped into the arena for some of THERAPY?'s set. They were extremely noisy and unimpressive with a sub-Killing Joke sheet metal music style, only with no "edge" like da Joke.

Headed for the moshpit down the front for BUFFALO TOM at 1. Their set was excellently paced with their hard-rocking laze rock mixed in with touching and heartfelt tunes, and, hey let's face it, downright wonderful songs. Much like The Fat Lady Sings, last year, their self-deprecating attitude ("excuse our inexperience at this size of event") won everyone over, and this top set, which culminated in an excellent "Sunflower Suit" and "Velvet Roof", won the day in the arena.

Baked potatoes and cider during THOUSAND YARD STARE; their set was full of their easy-on-the-ears melodies and good pop dance music. "Buttermouth", second number in, was the highlight. Then into the tent for SPITFIRE, who showed the 90's are the 60's upside down, with a shocking, dynamic set of powerful retro pop, with dancing girls onstage and wah wah effects in abundance. Good stuff!

SHONEN KNIFE followed; much lauded by festival headliners Nirvana, they were plain silly, a throwaway set of simple Japanese girly bubblegum Ramones-ish pop. Weird but cute - songs about cats and bison? Back into the arena for SMASHING PUMPKINS' set conclusion, which culminated in the vocalist smashing the stage up. Compere Peel remarked, "perhaps he's a Leeds supporter because they're losing..."

Back off to the tent as THE FARM started their poor baggy stuff, catching the last of FORCE N K ZEE's ragga rap set there. However, we were on a mission - Clive and I went straight down the front for THE HEART THROBS. Their set made the adjective "Godlike" seem somewhat inadequate; with much more oomph even than their recent superb Jericho set to augment their obvious class, style, sex, suss and heart-tugging melody, Rose and co. stormed through their set in a confident and totally assured manner. Best Band Of The Weekend - by a million miles!

From the tent to the arena and from the sublime to the ridiculous; MANIC STREET PREACHERS kicked through a comic but nevertheless entertaining set of their well-known powerpop punk rock, which culminated in vocalist James giving his guitar away to some lucky punter down the front! I then caught some of EMF's techno guitar pop before heading tent-side and joining the hysterical reception for THE SULTANS OF PING FC's early evening tent set. Niall, the evil sex punk himself, and his band of leather loons put on a supremely entertaining performance of their ramshackle DIY rabble rock.

Out for a few of RIDE's opening numbers, which sounded really good, their buzzsaw approach being augmented with maturity and style, and I'd have loved to catch some more. However, I was back in the tent for SUEDE, who capped the best day of the festival with a wonderful performance of classy and touching glam-tinged dreamy pop. Boundless potential, superb songs, vocalist Brett Anderson a true star of our times, this lot are destined for the main stage very very soon!

This took us to 10, so, not bothered about seeing either headliner, Clive and I hit the road and went to Level 3! Encountered rain on the M4 on the way home; is this an ominous sign, or what...

SHERIFF'S DIARY, DAY 3 - SUNDAY 30 AUGUST 1992

Short answer to that - Yes! It had pissed down in the night, so I caught the train to Reading to find the arena and campsite a mudbath, my weekend friends' "base camp" collapsed, and the boys nowhere! It turned out they'd been washed out at 5 am, so went home shortly afterwards to dry everything off and get some kip!

So, I was on my own for starters; into the tent for TABITHA ZU; a dead good opener of spooky, mysterious gothy pop, with Mel's gymnastic larynx again the feature. Dinner, then SWEET JESUS; their wall of noise/ Manics meets Weddoes in a honey factory set was excellent, especially "Phonefreak Honey". Vocalist Ben's fey, lilting singing voice was at odds with his more masculine speaking voice, but the lilt fitted the Spector-ish mood perfectly. However, rather ominously, the tent started bucking and swaying precariously in the high wind...

Into the arena for the last half of SCREAMING TREES' pretty standard actually rock set, before seeing half of PAVEMENT's much hyped but ultimately disappointingly discordant and obviously derivative set - Mark E Smith of The Fall should either be flattered, or sue! Decided then to head for the tent, only to find it had been evacuated for safety reasons! Fuck!

So, stuck with the mainstage fayre, I caught BJORN AGAIN. They were totally unfunny Abba "pisstakes", who, disappointingly, played the songs straight! "We're glad to be at the Reading Festival; we've brought many books and I hope you have too," was the extent of their humour. T'uh! Met up afterwards with the boys at their collapsed campsite and heard the whole sorry story. I'm glad I commuted! Stayed there awhile as it had started to rain quite hard again - that's all we need!

Tent still shut, so caught the last of THE BEASTIE BOYS set - which I thought was a load of bollocks - and wandered around the arena while the terrible L7 were on. Eventually the tent re-opened for a truncated PELE set at 5; they did 4 numbers - all singles - and made the most of their short time with their happy fiddle pop. At least they got to play, unlike the cancelled Power Of Dreams (bugger!) and Captain America (fuck)!.

Next up, then, were SCORPIO RISING; I gratefully lay down under cover and drifted off to their not bad poppy wah wah dancey set. Unpacked the boys campsite before REVOLVER; caught most of their mighty fine breathy rockist style set. The half-acoustic "Heaven Sent An Angel" was the highlight of their set.

Into the mudbath of an arena, for, appropriately enough, MUDHONEY ("is that Nirvana, darling?" "No, it's Mud, honey..."). In between slagging off the crowd for throwing mud at them (what d'you expect, with a name like that?), and actually slinging it back, they played a dynamic set of their unique unhinged grunge rock, which varied from the excellent to the dirge-like. Back to the tent afterwards for EAT and their early evening performance. I've not been their biggest fan over the years, but tonight they were excellent. A fine selection of rocking tunes in a Doors/ Wonderstuff way, but very individual and fun, and with vocalist Ange Doolittle giving an excellent frontman performance. Smat!

CATHERINE WHEEL started very promisingly in their fuzzy guitar maelstrom kind of way, but grub was a more attractive idea, so I ate in the arena while listening to NICK CAVE AND THE BAD SEEDS' final funereal dirges, and pretty awful deathly doomy encores.

Then, the big one; NIRVANA. The headliners of the day, indeed the whole weekend. The biggest draw on the planet right now and ultimately, for me, a big disappointment. After their excellent "Nevermind" LP, merging rock, punk, metal and powerpop together in a mighty mush, expectations were high, but on tonight's evidence I'm not sure they're ready for this size of gig/ level of adulation just yet. The sodden crowd were "treated" to a rushed-sounding, slapdash performance by a band who seemed ill at ease, as if they wanted to be elsewhere. Titanic tracks such as "Smells Like Teen Spirit" and "In Bloom" were low grumbles in the distance, and not a patch on the album interpretations.

So off we went at 10.45, after Nirvana started the last number of their (also short) set. A messy, sodden and disappointing end to a festival which started well, got better, then went out like a damp squib. But don't get me wrong, I'm glad I went; and even gladder I commuted!


THE SHERIFF 1992 READING FESTIVAL AWARDS

Friday Best: 1. MIDWAY STILL, 2. LEATHERFACE, 3. THE WONDERSTUFF (of 12)
Saturday Best: 1. HEART THROBS, 2. SUEDE, 3. BUFFALO TOM (of 15)
Sunday Best: 1. SWEET JESUS, 2. EAT, 3. TABITHA ZU(of 15)

OVERALL - 1. HEART THROBS, 2. SUEDE, 3. MIDWAY STILL, 4. BUFFALO TOM, 5. LEATHERFACE (of 42)

Best New Band: 1. LEATHERFACE.
Crap! 1. PUBLIC IMAGE LTD
Sorry I Missed: half of LEATHERFACE's set, TEENAGE FANCLUB, URGE OVERKILL
Star Of The Show: 1. ME! For commuting! That was my idea!

248 THE 1993 READING FESTIVAL

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 1, FRIDAY 27 AUGUST 1993

It's Reading Festival time again! This year, however, it's without weekend Posse representation, thanks to a late announcement of an alleged "weak" bill. So "sans" the lads, I made the daily commute for the first day, a dull, overcast but thankfully dry and warm one!

Got into the arena at 1.30, just too late to catch the bulk of CUCKOOLAND's pretty, Sunshot-with-pop-sensibilities set, which opened things up in the Big Tent, but hung around for FENN, next up, and their alleged "melodic thrash pop". Turning out to be more thrash than anything else, it was at times fierce yet overall still not bad. I caught some rays on the fringes of the tent while they were on, as the sun peeked through. VOODOO QUEENS were next up; with songs like "Who Needs Men When You've Got A Guitar", they turned out to be dreadful screeching harpie rock of the first water, despite some occasional neat organ embellishments and one half-decent, spooky little Cramps-like number.

The tent then inexplicably emptied for the mid-afternoon set from GREEN APPLE QUICK STEP. Maybe they knew something we didn't; despite a neat line in understated intros ("We're Green Apple Quick Step and we're a long way from home, but that doesn't matter right now..."), they were powerful but unfocussed sub-grunge with few tunes. Grunge is dead; someone please tell Green Apple Quick Step! Popped out for a cuppa during BAD BRAINS' mainstage crap rap antics, which I'm glad were in the distance, then returned to the tent, on a hunch, for THE FLAMING LIPS. They surprisingly scored a direct hit as the first highlight of a festival which was taking time to really get going; all driving rock tunes, guitar frenzy and thrilling sonic assault. Not even an occasional overdose of wah-wah detracted from this absorbing musical beast!

Teatime in the arena, and BABES IN TOYLAND were musical accompaniment to the nosh, the Babes unfortunately again not impressing with a plodding and noisy set. Vocalist Kat still wants to be Throwing Muses' Kristen Hersh; a shame she's not a patch on her for emotional projection. Screeching as loud as you can doesn't mean you "mean it, maaan". Back to the tent, then, being greeted on arrival with the proclamation, "you can dance if you want to," from THE DOUGHBOYS to the tent audience. They served up a lean and driving style of rock at odds with their name, and feet were duly tapped, although I confess I also spent time playing with some freebie "Adorable" balloons floating around during the Doughboys' early Lemonheads-like set.

Onto early evening; LEATHERFACE's splendid set last year, unbelievably, had the effect of moving them up the running order all of two hours! Whoop-de-doo! Taking the Tent stage at 6.15, they ripped into their set with venom and power, with "vocalist" Frankie Stubbs' gravel throat the focal point of an attack their hometown Sunderland FC would die for. "Wise Men Say" was a closing highlight of a noisy yet thrilling set. I then nipped out of the tent for a pee, and had my attention distracted (as did most people) by a crane bungee jumper who totally bottled it! Then back into the tent for ADORABLE. A brilliantly-chosen singles run-through, this; vocalist Piotr taking the stage in an ironically worn but quickly discarded crown, and loads of swagger and attitude (as evidenced by his response to a heckler; "Phil, what have you done with your life?"). "A To Fade In" was the haunting, shimmering and sparkling highlight of a diamond-in-a-coalmine set, which I experienced from the sweaty moshpit. Set Of The Day!

Took a walk about as darkness fell, and BACK TO THE PLANET peddled their innocuous dancy funk Pigbag-like background noise in the tent. Not the pseudo crusty shite I'd dreaded, however, and infinitely preferable to the mainstage antics of the dreadfully ham-fisted RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE, on the main stage. Something deeply ironic about a band getting their audience to sing along, "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me," methinks; are RATM the voice of the disenfranchised youth of this generation? Gimme a break! Anyway, I then made my only trip to the comedy tent all weekend, for FRANK SIDEBOTTOM. "Who's been on "Match Of The Day"? I have, in my big shorts!" Pure silliness, and the perfect antidote to the po-faced protests on the main stage, with 3/4 hour of silly Queen, Kylie and Beatles covers, delivered both by Frank and a body-less Little Frank. Predictable as Rangers wining the Scottish League, but who cares? Totally bobbins!

Finally, the Big Tent headliners THE FRANK AND WALTERS rounded off an uneven but fun day with a charming set of their oddball guitar pop. Despite being hampered by poor sound, they were on top form and fully deserved their very noisy ovation after an entertaining and enthusiastically delivered set. Then back to the car and home by half past midnight! Sod camping, this is Festival life as I know it!


SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 2, SATURDAY 28 AUGUST 1993

Had a good trundle down the M4 to Reading this morning, and entered the arena just as compere John Peel requested a, "disproportionate welcome," for midday mainstage openers THE GIGOLO AUNTS. I was intrigued by the "irresistible melodic and harmonic pop noise" reference in the programme, as well as their being from Boston, home of many a fine band, so was keen to check them out; and I certainly wasn't disappointed! They entertained mightily with a wholesome set of chunky and brain-hugging melodies, served with a side helping of Buffalo Tom influences. The "Doo Doo Doo" opening to their splendid single "Mrs. Washington" was particularly memorable. Excellent, excellent start!

Quality control was maintained with MADDER ROSE, whose careful balladry mixed in with some carefree driving US pop rock, augmented with honeyed Noo Yawk girly vocals, recalled for me a more sussed and streetwise version of Belly, no less. I like 'em, I'll buy their record! Following their set, I ventured down the front for EAT, promptly running into day trippers Rich, Jared, Nina and Ady. Eat vocalist Ange Doolittle, last year's surprising last-day hero and now the type of lizard king performance superstar INXS' Michael Hutchence can only aspire to, was an utterly stunning focus for the band's dynamic swamp rock. Sinister, self-assured and splendid!

Grabbed some late dinner during KINGMAKER's set; they again struggled in the open air and delivered virtually the same set as for June's Great Xpectations day Festival, losing a bit of dynamism in the process. A patchy, poor sounding set notable only for the flight of dozens of yellow Kingmaker frisbees at the end - shame! A quick wander to catch some of BIVOUAC's set (in the tent, ironically enough) revealed a sub-Neds brand of doomy fraggle rock. OK I suppose but unfortunately loud and indistinct. Wandered back to the arena after 3 numbers, for the zenith of SENSELESS THINGS' set, and was almost sorry! Their cartoon helium anarcho punk pop sounded infinitely more focused than their messy Great Xpectations set, with a very fine "Too Much Kissing" the highlight of what I was able to catch.

Staying in the arena, I listened to the footy on the radio during GARY CLAIL's mainstage rhythmic funk set, after a bevvied Ady nevertheless showed some sense by refusing to do a bungee jump! The news came in from Carrow Road that Swindon Town FC had secured their first Premier League point by virtue of a 0-0 draw with Norwich, so I celebrated (although not as ridiculously as Rich, who mutated into Zebedee when he heard) with mushroom and chips for tea during OZRIC TENTACLES' overlong, aimless set of meandering, flute driven instrumental hippy pap. Decided against sticking around for much of THERAPY? and their loud but empty bluster on the mainstage (they must be students of Macbeth, methinks, as the Scottish play aptly describes their current music; "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing"), and headed into the tent, absent-mindedly, for a real treat!

DROP NINETEENS were on. Drop Nineteens, from Boston but apparently more akin to London's more dour shoegaze bands, so perhaps their answer to Slowdive? Ha! Variously deliciously discordant, touching, melodious but never malodorous, and occasionally excitingly noisy, they more accurately called to mind Throwing Muses or The Belltower - high praise indeed! A brilliant "Winona" and a charming rendition of the old AOR chestnut "Mandy" were the highlights of another unexpectedly sparkling set.

Back in the arena for 8-ish, for SIOUXSIE AND THE BANSHEES' set; "we're not doing a greatest hits set, we're not going to treat you like a bunch of muppets," announced Siouxsie to a crowd wanting to be treated like a bunch of muppets. The Godmother of Goth, looking and sounding a little fat these days, then delivered a creepy but samey set of dull doomy pop to a dwindling audience. I wandered to the Tent for a second helping of EAT, late replacements for Radiohead in the tent (the day's potential highlights having cancelled at seriously short notice, due to Thom Yorke suffering from a sore throat - extremely bloody hell!). Ange, pressure (and jazzy matching great-coat and trouser set) off, let his hair down and led the band through a looser yet more powerful set than lunchtime. A searing "Shame", "Bleed Me White" and closing "Tombstone" were the highlights of another super set, with Ange again inviting the inevitable Morrison comparisons as he, stripped to the waist, sashayed through another fine demonstration of the art of the frontman.

Finally, mainstage headliners THE THE were the last attractions of the day. A sparse, broken window backdrop accurately reflected Matt Johnson's vision of pop as misery and urban decay. He's never really been my cup of introspectiveness, however, so after the opening few numbers I left him to wallow, and hit the road - home and asleep by midnight!

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 3, SUNDAY 29 AUGUST 1993

An early start today; on the road and into the arena by 11.15! I had to be, as I didn't want to miss any of mainstage openers GRANT LEE BUFFALO! I hit the front in time for their set; they delivered a haunting, mesmeric performance, with very loud shimmering acoustic guitars, and tales of angst delivered in a cracked, almost Mike Scott (Waterboys) like drawl by vocalist Grant Lee Phillips. A stunner of a start, but things were looking promising for this day already...

T'was looking ropey, weather wise, however, so I adjourned to the tent at this point, finding Ady there; he'd allegedly slept in a hedge last night, which was entirely believable! SHAMPOO, a 2-blonde girl fronted band with glammy Manic Street leanings and pretensions to be a trashier UK Shonen Knife, were stirring up a derivative but enjoyable concoction of punky power pop. However, they were swiftly forgotten as MAGNAPOP took the stage to follow them. The Athens, GA. combo, the band with the most appropriate name in rock, sped energetically through a dazzling, shiny happy set. Groovy tunes all, but the driving pop of "Merry"s soaring chorus was the undoubted highlight (but then I'm bound to say that, aren't I?). Brilliant stuff!

However even better was to come, as the nodding dog backdrop heralded the entrance of BETTIE SERVEERT. Since damning them with paint praise when supporting Belly last Autumn (only "quite good"? Sheesh!), I've grown to utterly adore their deliciously textured yet maverick LP "Palomine", bleak and introspective though it is at times. This afternoon, "live", they made utter sense; their songs soared majestically, the gorgeous vocal stylings of Carol Van Dijk (the woman with the best dimples in rock, surely?) drawing a hush over the crowd, as the band in turn handled the songs delicately, and rocked out in a totally carefree fashion when appropriate. An astonishing "Under the Surface" was the highlight of the set of the weekend... so far...

Stayed in the tent for TRUMAN'S WATER and their difficult, disjoined Pavement-like US alt-rock noise. To be fair, Ady, who went missing at this point, had warned that they were like that, and he wasn't far wrong! Then THE PASTELS... golly, are they still going? Their set was firmly entrenched in C86, gauche jangle-pop; charming at that time, but sounding twee and somewhat dated now. The set meandered, largely unnoticed, in the background, so I took a walk to catch a few of THE BREEDERS numbers on the main stage. Mrs. John Murphy, aka Kim Deal, and her post-Pixies band played a set of magical mystery college pop, which unfortunately caught the wind and drifted away slightly. They'd have been better off in the tent, maybe... which was where I headed back to, about 5, for THE JULIANA HATFIELD THREE, who kicked up a right storm with their fresh sounding brand of pure pop. The guys, in dresses, backed Juliana (wearing the trousers both figuratively and literally!) up perfectly, and that voice, so crystal clear on record, finally came across well live. A watching Evan Dando wandered onstage mid-set and kissed Juliana's neck; we all felt like that, a little!

I then found out Bettie Serveert were doing a signing session in the Melody Maker tent next to the big tent, so stood for an hour in an immovable queue, within earshot but not visual range of another set from GRANT LEE BUFFALO, this time in the tent, I guess as a late replacement for someone. Not one of my better Reading Festival decisions... finally gave that up as a bad job at 7, just as THE LEMONHEADS took the main stage to their titanic best number, "Stove". So I dashed down the front and joined the moshpit for a frantic hour of the Boston boys' unique hard rocking yet cool rock, now with a country tinge following their splendid "It's A Shame About Ray" album; a harder REM, maybe? Vocalist and main inspiration Evan Dando, resplendent in a black daisy-pattern dress and suspenders (!) was a kooky focal point, and was joined by Juliana Hatfield on occasional backing vocals. A super fun, immense set, based largely on "Ray", ensued, and I got soaked in the moshpit to the undisputed Best Set Of The Weekend. Great stuff!

As night enveloped the arena, DINOSAUR JR. formed the musical backdrop for some stalls shopping. Their "greatest hits" run-through was loud and mighty fine, with mainman J Mascis torturing his guitar like a medieval outlaw. The arena was dusky and smoky (due to all the polystyrene food container fires) and their set was a totally fitting soundtrack; very evocative and atmospheric! Then, the headliners; NEW ORDER. They, soundwise, were utterly perfect, totally faithful to their recorded work - perhaps a little too much in parts. Their set was a splendidly chosen selection of newies from LP "Republic" and their old favourites. "True Faith" took a dig at some alleged Michael Jackson rumours, but "Temptation" was the highlight of their superbly lit, excellently professional dancey pop show. A perfect end to the best day of a great Reading Festival. A "weak bill" for Reading 1993? Not! This was the best one yet!


THE SHERIFF 1993 READING FESTIVAL AWARDS

Friday Best: 1. ADORABLE, 2. FRANK SIDEBOTTOM (!), 3. FRANK AND WALTERS (of 14)
Saturday Best: 1. GIGOLO AUNTS, 2. DROP NINETEENS, 3. MADDER ROSE (of 9)
Sunday Best: 1. LEMONHEADS, 2. BETTIE SERVEERT, 3. MAGNAPOP (of 11)

OVERALL - 1. LEMONHEADS, 2. BETTIE SERVEERT, 3. MAGNAPOP, 4. GIGOLO AUNTS, 5. GRANT LEE BUFFALO (of 34)

Best New Band: 1. GIGOLO AUNTS.
Crap! 1. RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE, by miles!
Sorry I Missed: RADIOHEAD. That's all really.
Stars Of The Show: 1. EVAN DANDO, 2. ANGE DOOLITTLE, 3. BETTIE SERVEERT'S nodding dog!

272 THE 1994 READING FESTIVAL

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 1, FRIDAY 26 AUGUST 1994

"Welcome to the Biggest Ever Reading Festival!" declared enthusiastic compere Steve Lamacq as a main arena intro over the PA. In practice, this means there's a couple of big diamond screens each side of the main stage, so you have half a chance of actually seeing the dots on the stage perform without cricking your neck or boggling your eyes, and the tent stage is angled slightly more outwards. That's it really; Biggest Ever? Big Deal! The forecast was for sunshine and showers, but due to my late-running hay fever season, it was more sunshine and sneezes for me today!

Still, after catching the train down, I was third punter into the arena, and caught the opening tent set from CHUCK. A local act from Reading (not far to come then!), they sported a singer uncannily reminiscent of Blackburn Rovers' £5 million man Chris Sutton, and a nice line in Manics/ Stuffies style driving pop with some good choruses. A short set, but feet were duly tapped. Next up, THE TEA PARTY were a clumsy and lumpen 90's "rawk" Doors rip-off, especially the leather clad vocalist. Stuck with it for 2 numbers then wandered into the arena for mainstage openers THE FLAMING LIPS (spotting an excellent t-shirt on the way - "Be Ve-wy Ve-wy Qwiet - I'm Hunting Wabbit!" - surely not t-shirt slogan of the weekend already?). Lay down in the early afternoon sun and drifted off to their fried, slightly-delic pop swirl, which actually wasn't as good as last year's tent performance.

Saw enough of the subsequent VERVE to realise their new incarnation is still one-paced, one-dimensional and crap, so went off back to the tent! Friday 3pm, and here was the first festival highlight, but from an unexpected source! DRUGSTORE, whom I was unsure about during their recent Velvet Crush support slot, wowed me and impressed mightily with Muses-style soundbites, angst-ridden haunting lyrics and rock-out choruses. Superb! Quality control was maintained with SMUDGE, next up. They played about a million songs of their cool and groovy guitar pop, short and snappy. Lots of Lemonheads connections (Smudge's mainman Tom Morgan is an occasional Dando collaborator, and yes, it IS that Alison on drums!), which invited the inevitable and primarily accurate comparisons, but still a damn fine set.

Had an hour to kill after that (rap acts on both stages) so shopped, had tea and sneezed. A lot! Then it was HOLE in the main arena. A potentially gory car-crash situation, this, given the subtext of vocalist Courtney love's husband Kurt Cobain's suicide earlier this year, this unfortunately more than lived up to fears. Courtney, obviously wasted (on what? Who knows?), punctuated this set with nauseous self-pity, such as, "oh yeah, I'm so brave," and, "are you pretending it never happened? I'm not..." OK, Courtney, he's dead, that's sad, but just let him rest, please, OK? Don't make a career out of it!

Musically, Hole are a 3rd rate Babes In Toyland, so I left after a few numbers, in search of some entertainment! Found it in the tent, with VELOCITY GIRL, who did the trick with some spooky guitar pop a la Belltower. Good stuff! Next up, SLEEPER, were magnificent - a spunky, speedy and dynamic set packed with 90s Blondie on acid style pop nuggets. Vocalist Louise Wener, cocky and self-assured but deservedly so, made for a splendid front-person. Delicious!

"We're THE AUTEURS and we're the hardest band at Reading," said Luke Haines as he led his band onstage. Caught 1/2 hour or so of their cultured and intelligent rockist angst, without them offering anyone else outside to prove their "hard" claim, before heading into the arena for someone who might challenge it! FRANK BLACK, "the main man," as he was introduced by Steve Lamacq, was greeted onstage with a chorus of, "You Fat Bastard!" from the melee, simply dismissing it with a casual, "every time...". Sir Rockaby's set was sleazy, sinister, self-assured, and best when drawn from his debut solo LP. "Headache", however was splendid, the jewel of a sparkling set.

Darkness (and some rather threatening rainclouds which thankfully held on to their contents) fell on the arena as THE LEMONHEADS came onstage and totally did the business. Vocalist Evan Dando, this year shorn and dressed as a man (!), left the clowning around at the stage door and delivered a stunning, committed set of sparkling, entertaining and wonderful slacker pop classics. Some magic moments; the band (including Antenna's John Strohm) bundling Evan during his acoustic encore, the duet with Smudge's Tom Morgan on "Down About It", and Evan's extraordinary bright orange jumper, but mainly a shining talent delivering top-drawer entertainment. Terrific, and the Set Of The Day by some distance.

Then, I caught the last half of LUSH's last number in the tent (bugger!), and THE WEDDING PRESENT's first, which seemed interminably long, so my brain decided it needed sleep more. So I headed off for the day, unfortunately missing a train by 10 minutes and having to wait 50 minutes for the next one. Again I doth say; bugger!

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 2, SATURDAY 27 AUGUST 1994

Borrowed Clive's car today and drove a carload of day trippers! Clive couldn't make it along himself, due to monetary considerations, but still lent me his motor. Ha! Does he know what he's doing? Ha! Again! So, Ady, Jared and Nina, plus Nina's Skanxter colleague Vince, joined me, arriving in time to miss the 2 rap act openers, mainly because we weren't allowed into the arena until Ady and Jared polished off their one bottle of wine - each!

First band of the day, then, was new Rhode Island lot SCARCE in the tent; and what a way to start! Blowing away the cobwebs of a restless night, Scarce (featuring a whisky-soaked, gravelly voice vocalist and a highly kinetic babe bassist/ backing vocalist in a short metallic silver dress, who made me come over all Beavis and Butthead - "huh huh, chicks in bands are cool, huh huh") ripped through a dynamic set of jagged yet melodic rock culminating in a frenzied Pixies-ish final number called "All Sideways". One to hunt down, and an early favourite for best new act. POSSUM DIXON, next up, were an odd amalgam of Truman's Water alt-rock weirdness allied to some driving rock. Not too bad in parts, but did we really need the mid-set Madonna pisstake, with the vocalist's jeans around his knees? Hmmm.

Off to the arena with Ady for KITCHENS OF DISTINCTION and their angst-fuelled tales of lost love (that's "angst" spelled beautiful, haunting and desolate, not noisy, dour and inarticulate). No "Capsule" in their set (shame) but still a spine-chilling and atmospheric set, during which I danced, shirtless. Then Ady decided he wanted to buy a waistcoat, so we went shopping, missing Jale (damn!), but got back to the tent in time to flake out during SALAD's passable indie guitar set. Then ventured inside said tent for Yank rockers LOTION, who indeed rocked out considerably more than I remembered! A fine and dynamic set of straight-head alt rock in REM-meets-Superchunk country. Then back into the mid-afternoon sun, meeting up with Ady's Southampton mates during GENE, who played a set with one or two good tunes, but phenomenally derivative of The Smiths - the bloke even moans like Morrissey, f'rchrissakes...

Ady listened to the footy results on his Walkman (1-0 wins for Swindon and Forest!), then we went off to see PULP in the arena. Their keyboard driven sexy kitsch pop was entertaining, but the sound was muddy and their performance would've been so much better in the tent. Still, an entertaining set, with "Babies" the highlight and a blue-booted Jarvis Cocker a total star - as ever! Then back into the tent - ferocious pace today! - with Ady, leaving our stuff (shirts etc.!) with Ady's Soton mate Stuart's friend Diane, and diving into the melee at the front for SUPERCHUNK. They were predictably yet powerfully magnificent; their awesome, growling noise, almost tangible at times, was played with power and intensity, and the melee responded in kind. I got ridiculously sweaty (although not as bad as Stuart, who afterwards looked as if he'd been doused, then rolled in dust!) to the best and most powerful set of the Festival so far, culminating in a tremendous and ferocious "Slack Motherfucker". Wow!

Evening fell, so I got a "Betty Ford Clinic" sweatshirt (excellent!) and settled down for SHED SEVEN. Despite excellent t-shirts, modelled on Brazil footy kits, they were merely OK; Rick Witter was a good frontman, but their Smiths meets Stone Roses in a tin shed type of pop was a little flat at times, and I went for garlic bread to warm me against the evening chill! As it then got colder (and later!), I was relying on a set from COMPULSION to warm me up, and they didn't disappoint, with a high octane half hour of compulsive (!) punk rock which just flew by. Energetic vocalist Joseph-Mary jumped up and down on a frame around the drumkit during their loud, fast, edgy set, with "Rapejacket" their best number. More please!

Then ELASTICA, who for second-top headliners in the tent did a good impression of rank amateurs. Either there's a very intelligent mind at work (that stuff sells, well, at least it does to naive student indiekids anyway. Me, I've been there with the Fall when I was 14...), or they really are that bad. Either way, one great song ("Stutter"), one other passable number, and a clutch of jerky post-punk XTC/ Wire rip-offs do not a career make. I much preferred the number that was played on the PA beforehand - "Oh Bondage Up Yours" by X-Ray Spex!

Anyway, afterwards I ventured into the tent for deserved headliners MADDER ROSE, who had an excellent crowd and reception (which was great, considering they clashed with the popular Primal Scream), and lived up to it with a splendid cultured clutch of numbers. Drawing mainly from current LP "Panic On", with which I am becoming seriously obsessed, they were touching and melodic in parts, and recklessly noisy in others. The winsome prose of "Car Song" was a shimmering highlight!

That was that! Gathered the car posse, left the site at 11.30 and home by 1/4 to 1!

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 3, SUNDAY 28 AUGUST 1994

Looking at the bill today, with one or two exceptions Sunday definitely did not seem like Funday! Took Clive's car back, had lunch at home and didn't bother setting off to Reading until 1/4 to 2, hitting the site at 1/4 to 3, the latest I've ever arrived there for a single day!

Got into the site, which was dusty, very windy (uh oh!) and packed (don't know why, it was a poor bill!), and saw a noisy final number from SCRAWL in the tent. The tent itself was undulating wildly in the wind - echoes of Sunday at Reading in 1992, when weather forced the closure of the tent? Hope not! Stayed tent-bound for ARCHERS OF LOAF's inarticulate howl of a set which, actually, wasn't too bad, if a little grungy and clumsy. Arena acts were running late, due to Soundgarden's late withdrawal (no replacement, despite wild rumours involving the Levellers and/or Blur), so caught most of HELMET's chunky yet inauspicious noisy rock set. Couldn't stand more than one song from crap cartoon anarcho-HM glam wankspanners THE WILDHEARTS, next up on the main stage, so ventured back to the tent for the last couple of numbers of JEFF BUCKLEY's set. One was thoroughly absorbing in a Velvet Underground wall of noise way, but the other was tame 70's singer songwriter ballady pap. Will the real Jeff Buckley please stand up?

Next, despite hailing from musical hotbed Boston, Ma., MORPHINE, with their sax-fuelled late-night (or early morning?) mood music were really not my cup of introspectiveness, so I missed the end of their nevertheless quality set whilst doing some shopping in the arena stalls, with AFGHAN WHIGS' not very attention grabbing mainstage opening few numbers as musical accompaniment. Then headed back into the tent for ECHOBELLY, but uh oh! A dirty great rip in the top of the tent caused a 1/2 hour delay, whilst some chap in a crane repaired it! Anyway, Echobelly eventually came on and were bright, energetic, spiky and spunky, really showing the likes of Elastica how to do it. And boy, can vocalist Sonya sing! "Insomniac" was the highlight of a sparkling set only slightly soured by Sonya's foul fucking language, and preaching to the converted (no need! We agree!).

Headed down the front for The CUD band, as the compere introduced them. Thought, "sod it, let's dance!" and duly did so, as Cud vocalist Carl Puttnam, shorn of his flowing curly locks and decked out in a foul blue flowery silk suit and orange frilly shirt, led the band through a tough yet totally entertaining set of their sinewy jazz dance pop. "Eau Water" and new single "One Giant love" were brilliant; Carl a wonderful showman; tonight Cud were majestic!

I stayed down the front for THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS. Now a 6-piece, fleshed out by a new bassist, drummer and horn section (including Tony Maimone, formerly of Bob Mould's band), their unorthodox oddball pop vision sounded fuller and more dynamic, yet no less fun. "Angel" (they did "Angel"!) and "Particle Man" were gems, and the inevitable "Birdhouse In Your Soul" had the whole tent jumping, singing and having a wonderful time. Sheer entertainment - They Might Be Giants turned Sunday into Funday after all, delivering the Best Set of the Festival.

Then, I ventured into the darkness-enshrouded arena for the last couple of THERAPY? numbers on the mainstage (including a dynamic "Nowhere"), then had a late garlic mushroom tea listening to AMERICAN MUSIC CLUB in the tent. Their countrified yank rock was pleasant enough, but didn't really stick, and the 10.03 train was calling me from down the line. So I left the site at 20 to 10, bidding adieu to a fine festival overall, capped by the best performance of the weekend in the dying stages, thanks to They Might Be Giants!


THE SHERIFF 1994 READING FESTIVAL AWARDS

Friday Best: 1. LEMONHEADS, 2. SLEEPER, 3. FRANK BLACK (of 14)
Saturday Best: 1. SUPERCHUNK, 2. MADDER ROSE, 3. SCARCE (of 9)
Sunday Best: 1. THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS, 2. CUD, 3. ECHOBELLY (of 11)

OVERALL - 1. THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS, 2. SUPERCHUNK, 3. LEMONHEADS, 4. CUD, 5. MADDER ROSE (of 34)

Best New Band: 1. SCARCE. Struggling after that...
Crap! 1. THE WILDHEARTS, 2. HOLE, 3. VERVE
Sorry I Missed: RADIOHEAD (again!), The rest of THE AUTEURS and JEFF BUCKLEY, JALE. And what happened to THE GIGOLO AUNTS? They were supposed to play the tent Saturday but didn't even get as far as the bill!
Stars Of The Show: 1. The two Johns from THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS, 2. Carl Puttnam of CUD, 3. Evan Dando, 4. Stuart from Southampton after the Chunk set, 5. Ady (waistcoat boy!)

303, THE 1995 READING FESTIVAL

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 1, FRIDAY 25 AUGUST 1995

Had a good run down to Reading with weekend travelling buddies Clive and Beef, and parked unimpeded or delayed in the usual industrial estate at the back of the site. I got my wristband sorted out within 15 minutes thanks to some queue-jumping, as opposed to my polite friends, who joined an immense queue and thus waited for nearly 2 hours! Bollocks to that!

Popped into the sunny arena for the first band on in the Big Tent (sponsored by Melody Maker and thus referred to hereafter as the MM tent!), at 1pm; local chaps BENNET, who kicked up a confident Stuffies/ Superstar kind of noise, at odds with their obvious nerves and pleasure that so many early-doors punters were watching. One nonsense "Country" song about Bracknell, of all places, highlighted a good opening. Saw a couple of HEATHER NOVA's songs - she may be the Mayoress of Babe City, but her songs really aren't my cup of folky introspection - and then moved to the main arena for the early-running mainstage openers, Sunderland punks CHINA DRUM. The last couple of numbers I caught included a gleeful Mackem massacre of Kate Bush's "Wuthering Heights", and the drummer/vocalist featured band doing a very hard-rocking, Leatherface-like final number.

The first highlight followed; sadly not Scarce as vocalist Chick's illness had precluded their scheduled appearance, but JULIANA HATFIELD on the main stage. She, herself now fully recovered from a bout of fatigue-related illness, wowed the crowd with a well-rocking set of her spangly pure college pop. The urgent "What A Life" and closer "Nirvana" ("for Kurt") were high spots of a set I experienced from the moshpit! I then met up with happy campers Rich and Ady on the way to the MM tent for WEKNOWWHEREYOULIVE. These purveyors of mental hygiene played a far tighter and more consistent set than recently at Bath Moles, vocalist Ange's bekilted antics working better on a bigger stage. The mesmeric frontman led the former Wonderstuff back line boys through an enjoyable groovy, taut, funky experience, taking the piss out of Oasis and Blur on the way, and suggesting on this evidence they're getting it together.

Wandered over to the tiny tent for my scheduled late-afternoon meet with Clive, only to find him chatting to Geoff, Dianne and Brett from our faves Tongue, formerly The Julie Dolphin! It turned out they were very late additions to the bill, and due to play later today! Superb! Chatted along while SOLAR RACE whipped up a Babes In Toyland confrontational storm in the tent behind us, then quickly wandered into the arena to check out some of BECK, who unfortunately was hosting a hippy dippy bore-in. The timings were all skewed by this point as well; he's 20 minutes early, the tiny tent is running 45 minutes late! D'oh! At least the sun is shining, so Reading has something right!

Saw a couple of SPEEDWAY's spunky but one-dimensional numbers in the tiny tent, then had a quick wander around the stalls. Beck finished at 5.30, and the excellent "Sparky's Dream" drifted lazily over the sun-drenched arena from the PA. A lovely, subtle Summer groove, but sadly the nearest I'd get to Teenage Fanclub, next up on the main stage, as I had an appointment in the tiny tent! Clive and I were a 2 man moshpit for the beginning of TONGUE's set, but we were quickly joined as their passionate punky rock took hold. "Birthday", the splendiferous old TJD number, had us rocking and sweating cobs, and newer, more considered but no less thrilling stuff impressed as well. A gripping "Omni" and newie "Supermodel" climaxed a great set; highlight of the weekend to date!

Met up with the boys and the band after, and had a convivial few beers. A lovely way to spend a sunny early evening, and it was a funny experience being "buzzed" at Reading, given that I normally stay sober to catch all the bands I want to see! Anyway, I popped over to the MM tent just after 7 for MARION. They put on a dynamic show, their brilliantly shiny boy-rock laying waste to a packed tent. "Time" and "I Stop Dancing" the highlight of another moshpit-bound (for me!) 40 minutes. I eventually emerged, sweaty as a big sweaty thing, for the final chapters of the HOLE tragi-comedy show on the main stage. Saw a vicious "Violet" and another final, agonising number, which ended with Courtney Love being carried off after trashing the stage. I have to say, right now it bothers me that people have the gory fascination to watch an entire Hole set; it's probably a similar mentality to slowing down on the motorway to gawp at a car crash, I suppose. However, the Sheriff verdict is; their music's painful and she's developed into a Class A Fruitloop. Period. End of story.

New story. Once upon a time, a trio of cartoon-fuelled Yankee bongheads formed a band, captured the US post-slacker "zeitgeist" by chugging out urgent but melodic speed-punk, made millions, and, suitably empowered, brought their Ramones/ Buzzcocks-like stuff to inflict upon us Friday night Reading punters. GREEN DAY blasted a hole into Reading with brilliant spunky and spiky punk pop thrills, with Dickies-style cartoon anarcho-showmanship, and no little melody and class. "Chump" rolled into "Longview" with effortless ease for an early highlight, and I spent much of their thrilling set getting the shit kicked out of me in a violent moshpit populated by be-muscled punk bruisers. Quite appropriate, really, as the Green Day set was doing the same to my ears!

Stayed in the arena for headliners SMASHING PUMPKINS, bumping in to young Tim from Level 3 in the process. Their lumpen grunge dirge bored me to tears, which was a shame as I was looking forward to them in a way - one last chance to impress me, and they blew it! Did a bit of shopping in the stalls instead, then met up with Clive and Beef at 11.30 after catching FLYING SAUCER ATTACK's very odd oboe (yes, that's oboe) led encore, finally getting home and hitting the sack at 1/4 to 1, after a white knuckle drive home!

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 2, SATURDAY 26 AUGUST 1995

Shed on! D'oh! Sneezes! Double D'oh! Rain forecast for this afternoon! Double-plus psycho nuclear hyper ultra D'oh! with big knobs on! Still, piled in with Clive and Beef, and hit the arena at 10.30 - no rain, yet! - for a wake up call from EMBASSY in the MM tent. Their urgent, jolly, guitar driven mod-ish set was quite enjoyable, if short, and their vocalist was an energetic presence and could also sing! Then met up with the happy campers, plus day trippers Jared and Nina, and Dave and Liz, then trotted over to meet up with Ady's Southampton mates. Enjoyed a couple of games of footy by the riverside in the midday sun, scoring a hat trick in one of the games, both won convincingly by the Swindon posse!

At 2.30, after our game, I could quite understand why some people come to Reading then stay by their tents all weekend. I was knackered from the footy, and sitting by the happy campers' tents in the warm sun was a happy and mellow (if a little sweaty) groove, aided in no small part by one of Ady's beers! I could have stayed there all day, but nevertheless we headed back into the arena to catch 60 FT DOLLS in the MM tent at 10 to 3. They kicked up a fine set of their usual acerbic Jam-ish rock, and sounded well at home in the crowded tent. Saw a couple of COAST's numbers in the tiny tent thereafter - lazy guitarry and groovy, but insubstantial - then had some scran and ventured into the arena for SHED SEVEN. This year I quite enjoyed their set, which was good old 60's-ish beat pop with some New FADs-ish taut funky grooves thrown in for good measure, and a lot less Smiths-derivative than before, I'm pleased to say. However, it clouded over a little, rather ominously...

The scene darkened and a light drizzle fell; quite an appropriate entrance for THROWING MUSES' moody little set, which, nevertheless, led us back into the light. The eccentric but wholly captivating Kristen Hersh cut an obliquely odd figure in green t-shirt, tiny pink shorts and severely cropped hair, and also sounded rather throaty. Nevertheless, she led the Muses through an attention-grabbing and varied set of harsh, discordant, touching and awesomely beautiful mood muse-ic. The, erm, manic "Mania" and the wholly unexpected yet tremendous epic oldie "Vicky's Box" were brilliant highlights of a titanic set.

Then we heard the footy results read over the PA, and cheered (soliciting some odd glances in the process) upon hearing Swindon Town's 1-0 triumph at Carlisle! A trip to the loo meant I missed about half the BLUETONES' popular and cute, but directionless wallpaper pop set in the tent. Stayed tent-bound, however, for former Bunnymen Mac and Will's new charges, ELECTRAFIXION. Their set, including the haunting (as in, hairs on your neck standing on end, seriously!) new single "Lowdown", was superb; Mac and the lads dished up a heady cocktail of magic, mystery and menace. That bloke may not be Bunny anymore, but his new charges have retained the EATB sense of suspense and intrigue, and have allied it to a hard and dynamic "in your face" sound. The climax of their brilliant set, "Burned", swooped and soared, and evoked "Do it Clean" live. Yeah, that good. Stayed in for DRUGSTORE; they premiered some new, more accessible numbers, and were also superb, sparkling and magical. Their recent jaunt across to the States has seemingly added some extra dynamism and space to their already multi-faceted sound, and apart from a few dickheads throwing cups of water, the set was very well received. Isabel, a little pissed off at the end of the set (partly by the water throwing, partly by punters piling down the front - already! - for headliners The Foo Fighters), will hopefully look back on it as a major triumph.

Had a mid-evening drink with Ady, Dave and his girlfriend Liz (who despite Reading being about a million miles removed from her type of thing, was holding up well), then popped back into the MM tent for ECHOBELLY. The tent, now stuffed to capacity, was lapping their perfectly delivered agit-pop set up. I kept a watching brief from the tent side and enjoyed Sonya Madan's perfect enunciation, and her band's magic pop thrills. However, the huge tent crowd thereafter seemed to expand even more for headliners THE FOO FIGHTERS, creating a rather disturbing crush and a number of almost-panicked bottlenecks, and prompting a couple of serious questions;
1. The stage in the MM tent was set up at right-angles to the arena - all well and good, but why then put corrugated iron screens up behind the mixing desk? This created alarming bottlenecks, and also reduced the effective capacity of the tent!
2. The obvious question - The UK debut of the Foo Fighters, a band led by Dave Grohl, an ex-Nirvana chap, was bound to be a totally humungous draw (underlined by their debut single crashing into the charts at No. 3 this week), so what the hell were they doing playing in the tent? They should have been on the main stage!!
Anyway, I kept a watching brief from my now very tightly packed side of the tent, during most of their patchy but eminently listenable Dinosaur Jr.-esque heavy guitar driven Yank rock set. Dave Grohl revealed himself to be a very nice guy, and certainly a more considerate human being than whoever saw fit to put those screens up, by showing genuine concern for the well-being of the kids at the front, and continually interrupting the set to exhort punters to move back, take it easy and generally be nice to each other.

However, after "This Is A Call", their single and finest melody-packed moment, I heard a different call - from my stomach, for mushrooms and garlic bread. So, after a late night snack, off we went, glad that the anticipated rain had held off!

SHERIFF'S DIARY - DAY 3, SUNDAY 27 AUGUST 1995

With more footy on our minds this morning, we hit the site early today and headed straight over to the happy campers' tent, with the TTP ball (replacing the one we knackered yesterday!), for another game against the Southampton posse. Much closer this time, thanks to Beef "bottling out", but no less enjoyable, particularly as I got the winner! Relaxed by the river awhile afterwards, then into the arena at 1 pm - or should I say, into the dustbowl! With a covering of dust being whipped around the crowded and bleary hollow-eyed arena, it evoked visions of a post-fallout X Generation theme park in Arizona!

Caught the final numbers of NILON BOMBERS' standard glam-flavoured Britpop in the tiny tent, then wandered around the arena stalls during BLIND MELON's pointless mainstage grunge dirge. Watched a bit of the Belgian Grand Prix on a telly behind one stall, then absent-mindedly happened onto the Melody Maker signing tent, five minutes before Buffalo Tom were due for a signing session at 2! Yowsers! Not wanting to miss this opportunity, I barged my way to the front of the immense queue, and got in there! Got a cool photo signed (the last one available, so Bill signed it "Lucky You!"), had a brief chat with the Tom about Boston music, and shook Chris Colbourn's hand. Right result!

Into the tiny tent for STAR 69, who sported a babe vocalist with a big pink acoustic guitar and a head full of angst, and were a tasty amalgamation of The Belltower's spooky mood and Madder Rose's sleazy, smoochy lilt. Great stuff, actually! Next up in the tent, PULLOVER, an odd collection of brightly attired individuals and a large female vocalist, made a post-C86 noise resembling early Wedding Present giving Talulah Gosh a good kicking outside a sweet shop. They would have been well at home at Subway Records in the late 80's, and had one great lyric; "your body's a temple, mine's a shed!" Overall, light-hearted but good and entertaining pop fizz.

Saw the second half of the BABES IN TOYLAND mid-afternoon arena set. I actually enjoyed their thrashy cat-screech rock this time, especially their surprisingly straight cover of Sister Sledge's disco classic "We Are Family". I then stayed arena bound, for my pre-Festival highlight faves, and picture signees from earlier today! BUFFALO TOM kicked off with "Tangerine", the raucous opener to their new, precious and damn near perfect LP "Sleepy Eyed". Thence followed 50 minutes of absolute top drawer rock, packed with emotion and drama from the finest purveyors of haunting emotion on show on this bill. Vocalist Bill Janovitz veered between being a self-effacing nice guy, exhorting the moshpit to, "get your raft back, man!" (??), and leading the Buffalo boys through a bleeding raw set of spellbinding intensity. Band Of The Weekend? It rather goes without saying...

But, this being Reading, I had little time to reflect on the plangent magnificence of The Tom's set, before buggering off to the tiny tent. NYACK confused both myself and Clive with a set of totally new material, the new numbers featured being more driving and rockier than the chunky guitar pop of their recorded output to date. The closing "Facedown" was however both spooky and groovy, and a post-set chat with tall vocalist Craig Sterns cleared things up; they fancied playing a new set as they figured no-one would be there for them! When I lamented the absence of fine single "I'm Your Star" from the set, in fact, Craig suggested I was the only one who did! Anyway, I then popped over to the MM tent for ASH's set. Their take on post-Undertones style fresh punky pop innocence was entertaining and enthralling, and attracted a huge crowd. I bumped into Andi from Level 3 at the tent side, and we bopped to pop gems such as "Petrol", and the whole tent pogoed as one to recent "hit" single, "Girl From Mars"!

The festival was winding down now, for me at least, as I had early evening scran by the MM tent, unfortunately within earshot of REEF, with their lumpen and clumsy trad rock bollocks. The whippy wind brought a real chill to the early evening; I bought a waistcoat but still felt the chill, so we headed back to the tiny tent mainly to get out of the cold! In the process, we also got to see LICK; their pretty boy amphetamine rock set was exciting, and resembled Sweet Jesus in bed with early Manic Street Preachers, entertaining accordingly. Then THURMAN, next up, were our final band of the festival. Their set was very much of the "zeitgeist", their modish guitar pop with a bit of glam was derivative but entertaining, and reminded me of Kinky Machine. Methinks despite occasionally sounding like a Michael Caine "B" movie soundtrack, they might be the best bet to emerge from the current "New Mod" scene. Good luck to them, anyway!

And that was it, for us anyway. Nobody fancied paying any real attention to the appalling SOUNDGARDEN (who sounded terrible from a distance), so off we went, missing headliners Neil Young (too old-hippy for my current tastes! Sorry!) and Carter USM (past their sell-by date for me) in the process. Reading - and Summer - is now over, but thanks to Buffalo Tom, Reading's Top Band, it had a rousing send off!

THE SHERIFF 1995 READING FESTIVAL AWARDS

Friday Best: 1. TONGUE, 2. GREEN DAY, 3. WEKNOWWHEREYOULIVE (of 14)
Saturday Best: 1. ELECTRAFIXION, 2. THROWING MUSES, 3. DRUGSTORE (of 9)
Sunday Best: 1. BUFFALO TOM, 2. NYACK, 3. ASH (of 11)

OVERALL - 1. BUFFALO TOM, 2. ELECTRAFIXION, 3. TONGUE, 4. THROWING MUSES, 5. DRUGSTORE (of 34)

Best New Band: 1. STAR 69, 2. EMBASSY, 3. THURMAN.
Crap! 1. HOLE, 2. REEF, 3. SOUNDGARDEN
Sorry I Missed: TEENAGE FANCLUB, BOO RADLEYS, VENT (in the tent). Biggest miss was of course the absent SCARCE
Stars Of The Show: 1. BUFFALO TOM (of course), 2. GEOFF HAYDEN (for getting the beers in), 3. DAVE GROHL (for being a totally nice guy onstage), 4. CRAIG STERNS (for being a totally nice guy offstage!), 5. ME (hat trick hero!

Replica, not mine!