Who turned the leccie on?


Oh NO, after a self-imposed exile of all events that are supposedly cool, Stretch here has had some kind of brain bubble develop in my inner ear, causing me to slam my head sideways off the keyboard, which accidentally triggered the evil t****tmaster, causing me to buy a ticket for the Electric Blanket festival in some godawful field in Laois at the beginning of September.

The one thing I love about festivals, is that within minutes of entering the campsite, some person with nothing better to do except moan, will tell you that last year’s jamboree was better. But we’ve only been here five minutes. Yeah, but those five minutes were a lot cooler and I’m telling you, a lot less corporate last year. Punnnnch.

Bonobo: Irlanda performance with attitude

As Ol’ Mama Stretch would say to me,

“Stretch mo ghrá, people who are bored are boring people. Now shag off, you’re irritating me and brush your teeth. You look like Shane McGowan.”

So anyway, I shall be heading to The Blanket with Dr Ballantine Baines and others to discover how many adults actually get nappy rash at these things.

Also, there do be some good reasons to attend:

1. The Fall. Always the Fall.

2. Bonobo’s first Irish appearance (bullshit, he’s DJ’d here before and besides what’s wrong with Irlanda cuz)

3. Laurent Garnier a la campagne! Formidable

4. The chance to hassle Steve Earle about Bubbles.

5. Steve Mason, Beta Man.

6. The chance to stand behind Frames fans and whisper, “You know you are slobbering over a paedophile?”

7. Also, I will stand in front of The National, point at Tom Berenger (or whatever) holding a poster of Peter Steele and scream, “J”ACCUSE!”

8. P.I.L. are there; Leftfield are there. What are the chances? What comes next?

9. and all the little bands who fill out these events making them a lot longer than they need to be.

10. Surrendering yourself to corporate consumerism under the guise of being a weekend hippie.

Coming back on the Monday, showering til Tuesday and swearing that it wasn’t as good as the last time. The chance to sleep in a tent is always exciting too, for the first night, then its straight to a hotel with power shower and spa treatment. Fuck me, it’s not about getting old. Comfort is NOT about getting old. Ha!

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