Oh heck. What a pathetic display of muddy, ruddy wetness. As S and I discussed, when children it seemed all summers were hot and dominated by skies of dazzling blue and, as youths, festivals proved mainly sunny and unblemished by foul weather. What has gone wrong? Anyone would think the planet is in some way warming up causing meteorological conditions to become haphazard and unpredictable. I suggest that scientists start looking into this especially as, for the second year in a row, the Green Man Festival has been ruined by the wettest rain known to humanity. Friday, it has to be said, was rather fine and S and I caught some decent music. I rather enjoyed the shoe-gazing, nu-gazing intensity of Norfolk’s very own Sennen while, in the evening, the heavy rock and scuzzy Sturm und Drang of Canada’s Black Mountain had my head banging ever-so-slightly. Alela Diane possesses a sweet voice too.
Saturday was a rotter. Grrr. It poured and poured and our spirits sank into the mud. A few hardy souls huddled at the front of the main stage for the raw-boned and idiosyncratic
Here is a brace-plus-one of photographic images.
1. S on Thursday afternoon: Blue sky, green field, pleasing view, optimistic vibrations, innocence, joy.
2. Friday. Sennen nu-gaze for non-crusties energetically. Footwear: model’s own.
3. Coats, cagoules, capes, caps and creative compositions from