It's the longest day of the year and we're in Hyde Park for Wireless. The crowd: an assortment, some could have come straight from watching a game at the pub, others look as if they belong against the Misshapes wall. There's even a few who look like they've bunked off school to be there.
The Like play first, as we stroll in, mentally noting the location of the frozen margarita stand, and how the line for that is much less than that of the beer tent. Gogol Bordello, with Hutz wearing what appears to be a pair of Aston Villa soccer shorts over jeans, go down a storm, telling everyone to wear Purple. We head to the XFM tent to jump around to the Young Knives briefly before heading back to see Dirty Pretty Things. It seems DPT believe their own hype, and merely dial in a lacklustre performance. Iain Super-8s some of the Raconteurs, who do a little better than Barat et al in my opinion, but a lot of their set is taken up trying to get someone about fifteen feet ahead of us to put down their fucking red umbrella.
As the crowd breaks in between sets, we move forward to stake out a spot for Belle & Sebastian. Stuart Murdoch is still on my list of men-to-marry, but he sounds like he's losing his voice. When they disappear off stage, we scarper as fast as thousands of people crammed in front of the stage will let us, to find bathrooms and food. We go to the MySpace tent and groove to White Rose Movement, then head out to see the more-or-less headliners, The Strokes, play the final set.
By now it's pretty nippy, and we can't be bothered to head into the heaving mass of people so while James fetches us cups of tea, I sit down on a patch of grass way back, where, it turns out we have a perfect view of the screens, and if we stand up, a perfect view [albeit far back] of the stage. We sip our tea and try to warm up, and The Strokes get into their set. As people run past us to join the crush, it seems a fair few people have decided it's just as good at the back, and a small Strokes dance party is going on back there. Toe-tapping helps with the keeping warm, I discover.
Eventually, as The Strokes play the last song of their encore, we start sneaking off to the exits, hoping to beat the rush. When I get to the bus stop on Bayswater Road, however, it seems other people have done the same - and headed back a stop, resulting in full buses not stopping. I manage to squeeze on to the next 94 that turns up and am so tired I end up sitting on the stairs of the double decker, ears ringing, legs tired from standing and dancing, but glancing out the window I notice it's still not wholly dark, and the longest day of the year has given daylight a pretty good show.
[full set of photos]
1 comment:
its the best blog ever
i do declare it
or as erm...as some have been known to say t'other side of the pond - you go girl
or as iam still fond of saying at the moment (i should know better) - well done you!
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