I was finally on the road, turning my back on conventional society with a beer in one hand and in my mind’s eye I was already musing over the anticipation of the Green Man festival. This event has some amazing reviews together with a reputation as being the only true 24-hour party in the UK’s festival calendar and that’s before you look at the music and entertainment line up.
The setting was as every bit as picturesque as I had imagined – the campsite was nestled in a valley betwixt a dramatic mountainous backdrop and the sloping arena. The geomantic and alchemical symbols that adorned the site made me feel almost as if I’d entered a dimension parallel to our own, where the magic of nature was every bit as real as the aching pain in my feet as I marched my bag up to the campsite.
Once we’d settled next to our festival neighbours, it was time to check the first entry on our audio agenda. We headed in to watch the legendary Patti Smith. Clearly happy to be playing Green Man, Patti spoke openly and with warmth to the audience, who filled the tent and spilled out into the surrounding field for a good 10 metres or so. Her performance was heartfelt, but I couldn’t help wishing she had a bit more of a Punk attitude.
We walked about 200 meters from the Far Out stage and discovered the Chai Wallahs tent, where we let our dance daemons out. This is a stage you can see at a number of festivals, and with its bar and lighting it creates a little bubble of its own making, like a self contained party environment that somehow seems separate and at the same time part of the festival, which may well be one of the reasons why it’s been featured at so many events this year.
Friday
Upon leaving the tent after grabbing a few vital hours of sleep, it was all we could do to take a few deep breaths and admire the scope and natural beauty of the site as the sunbeams danced over the horizon. The first stop of the day was Einstein’s Garden, a part of the festival that was entirely devoted to learning, with a focus on the universe and its contents. There was more than enough to overload your mind, although the whole affair did have more than just a touch of the Brian Cox about it. Things can only can get better?
I was really excited to see the next band Peggy Sue, as I had seen them ages ago when they were called Peggy Sue and the Pirates. As I’d expected, they’d become slicker, but fortunately hadn’t lost their edge. They had pumped a bit more Folk into their set, although this may have been because they were at a super hippy festival. Still, they were one of the more interesting Folk bands we watched at Green Man, with a sound punctuated by splashes of Grunge and Rockabilly for added grit, setting them apart from their more wishy-washy cousins.
The rest of Friday is a blur. I couldn’t even tell you what time we started drinking, let alone what time we stopped. Caught in an atmosphere that was out of this world – everyone was smiling and the vibe was unquestionably incredible. Drink led naturally to food and we didn’t know where to turn next – the festival smelt fantastic – there were food stalls everywhere. Each time you turned a corner there was a new flavour in the air.
We came across a band called Moon Duo who caught our acoustic attention – they were simply great. Imagine The Mighty Boosh’s song ‘Future Sound’ mixed with dance beats. If you want to get into a trance-like state where you’re hypnotised by music without taking drugs, this is the band.
Back to our safe haven, Chai Wallahs, we discovered the band Birth of Joy pumping out Psychedelic Rock tunes. We had never heard of them before, but as we walked into the tent we simultaneously exclaimed something along the lines of “real music” – I think what we actually meant was it had enough tempo for us to dance to it, so we stayed and danced till our legs could barely carry us back to our tents.
Saturday
Saturday morning was painful. We woke up late to greet our hangovers, which finally faded when we heard something amazing coming from the arena. Following our ears we found a rising sage hidden on the other side of a pond, was this just a band, or were we gazing upon Rock gods in the making, as our eyes met the fabulous Chinese Missy.
Chinese Missy had a rare energy, each band member thrashing and gyrating around on the stage. I’ve never experienced a band cure a hangover before, yet somehow they transferred their enthusiasm to me and then everyone was up and dancing at the front. The singer’s smoky voice sent shivers down my spin as I playfully imagined what it would be like to get caught up in the guitarist’s curly blonde hair.
It was nearing time to move to the walled garden for Sweet Baboo when I heard the guy on the solar stage announce that Ichi would be playing in 5 minutes. My girlfriend had seen him about a year ago and had raved about him – I didn’t even know he would be playing. It was a close call but after some deliberation the decision was made to let Ichi rule the next forty five minutes of our Green Man experience.
Ichi entered the stage on his homemade stilts, which doubled up as a bass guitar and bells, home-made bell shoes and a harmonica attached round his head. Possibly the weirdest and most original entrance I have ever seen at any festival – this guy definitely has the unhindered imagination of a child. At one point he brought out a trumpet that incorporated kazoos and harmonicas into its design. Surprisingly he played this in two ways – by using a party balloon to blow the horn and it’s associated attachments and through metal rings on his fingers to bash out a beat. Believe it or not it even sounded pretty good too.
We then went to see This is The Kit – a beautifully harmonised Folk band. One of the guitarists clearly thought he was Jimi Hendrix and completely lost his shit at one point, dropping his guitar whilst he was playing it with his mouth. Awkwardly, he realised he was in his 40s and looked a little embarrassed, although fortunately the crowd helped him laugh this off.
Daytime drunk soon became night time drunk and our legs needed a rest, so the decision was made to go for the comedy tent. After easing into a giggly stupor we saw Isy Suttie (Dobby from Peep Show), who not only had us in stitches with her clever and incisive brand of stand up, but also managed to wow us with a singing voice that she’d kept well hidden, causing perhaps one of the biggest “we did not see that coming” moments of the festival.
When stumbling back to our tent we came across an area we hadn’t seen whilst bathed in daylight. A mobile disco had spawned somehow in the shape of a mouth and appeared to be feeding on dreadlocks. On closer inspection it had attracted a bunch of ravers and was spewing out some quality Breakbeat rhythms. We got sucked in by the bass notes and danced on the hill with the wide eyed crowd.
Sunday
Sunday was our day to hang out at the main stage – there was a different vibe in this area as compared to the rest of the festival, perhaps due to the hill that lead down to it like some kind of Romanesque amphitheatre, creating an area of separation from the rest of the party madness. It seemed a bit static, with large amounts of the crowd simply sitting on the hill, which we ran down when our excitement jumped as we clapped our eyes on Lau. They were brilliant and probably the only true Folk band on the line up, which is my own controversial opinion. There were a lot of jigs, some fast and some slow, but the crowd seemed sadly reluctant to dance – the weekend was apparently getting to some of the older rockers out there.
We stayed at the main stage for Johnny Flynn. It goes without saying that he put on a good show, but I was more pre-occupied with his sister – Lilly Flynn. She was Laura Marling times two. Her flute and keyboard playing (not at the same time) was mesmerising, and I have to say thatt heir family talent sickens me.
Later in the day after hiding from the hottest sun, we declined to the Walled Garden we saw Public Service Broadcasting, who’s popularity had helped them fill out the place. They were using a recorded voice to speak to the crowd and got everybody laughing. Their set was true to what we had heard on the radio over the past year, and listening to them live was more than just slightly better, although it was so busy we couldn’t actually see what was going on. Perhaps a bigger stage next year Green Man – or maybe just a bunch of stepladders for those at the back?
The night was drawing in, and by the dusky orange sunset tones that played across the minimal clouds kissed by the gentle lips of an autumn still young, we scrambled up the hill to the Far Out area to see British Sea Power. They had dressed the stage beautifully in greenery and the smoke and lights creating a a magical, hanging atmosphere to the drama of their set. There were some hardcore fans that knew every word almost drowning out the power of the Marshall stacks with their devotion to this cult act, who seemed to be dragging the rest of the crowd into this strange, but deserved, act of worship.
With our blood streams flowing with alcohol we needed to do some serious dancing. We skipped back to Chai Wallahs for Gypsy Hill. Unfortunately their set time clashed quite badly with Ben Howard, but once we were in we couldn’t leave. They put a Romany dancing spell on us and, despite seeing them last year – we couldn’t leave until the end of their set. Imagine Gogol Bordello’s voice, but less husky, with fast gypsy swing all mixed in with a DJ and you’re getting close to the sound that had us fixed in a whirling frenzy – we made sure that we squeezed that last bit of juice out of one of the best festivals the UK has to offer.
Unfortunately all good things must come to an end. As the music finished the entire festival began a pilgrimage towards The Green Man – it was like something out of a 1960s Hammer Horror film without the scary. Instead of sacrificing a real human, The Green Man is a statue formed of greenery, wooden blocks and branches. We wrote our wishes on parts of the green man. Some had just written something witty or drew the master of all comedic symbols – the penis – which actually ties in with this Ancient fertility rite as the Green Man is said by some to represent the life giving aspect of the phallus. The messages had been collected by The Green Man organisers over the weekend giving everyone a chance to get involved and share their thoughts. With all the painted faces of the hippies standing round this organic idol with baited breath, a single torch was raised and bought forth. The whole crowd counted down before the effigy was ignited, sending sparking orange flecks up into the night sky. Secretly I hoped that somewhere, somehow, a festival god out there was looking down on me – after all, he’d already made half my festival dreams come true.
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