Wireless Festival 2008 - Tuborg Blog

Thursday:
I'm becoming scarily familiar with Hyde Park. If familiarity breeds contempt then you'd think I must absolutely hate being here. But I don't, and that's because I've got 4 days of every genre of music imaginable to look forward to at O2 Wireless festival. Straight to the press tent and the inevitable free beers where I spot Lethal Bizzle. This guy must of been cloned at some point in the last year because everywhere I go, he's there. Not much happening in the press area, I speak to Hot Chip but they're too busy for a photo with me. Its pissing it down outside so we watch the beautiful Roisin Murphy perform at least 10 costume changes on the telly before braving the elements for Mark Ronson (accompanied on stage by a slightly ahem 'refreshed' Lily Allen) and Glastonburys favourite son Jay Z. Pretty soon I'm making diamond signs with my hands, playing along with the other Jay Z fans. This guys good, he can be my friend. We could rap together, maybe update the old Paul McCartney/Stevie Wonder classic 'Ebony and Ivory' for the noughties. I spy Matthew Horne of Gavin and Stacey fame with a downbeat look on his face. "I got these free new balance trainers! I wanted the blue ones but they gave me the green ones". Um, yeah, thanks for that Matt. I speak to Jack Penate, who's got a pair too but Kele from Bloc Party is......"more than capable of buying my own trainers".

Friday:
This is what I'm all about. The indie Cindy's and the NME Jeremy's have come out to play. Morrissey t-shirts are omnipresent. I've already rugby-tackled Alex Turner, got up close and personal with Dev Hynes (Lightspeed Champion) and been talked at by the bassist from Hard-fi. The bar in the press area has run out of Tuborg (it's quite addictive once you get into it!), the sun is out and me and my friends are enjoying the brilliant Beck tearing through his back catalogue of hits. Over on the Tuborg stage, New York Dolls are great in a Jeremy Clarkson fronting Spinal Tap kinda way, and they kill a little bit of time until the hero of the day comes onto the main stage :-) Morrissey is superb tonight, happy and in great voice, not afraid of throwing new songs in with Smiths tracks. Highlight of my day no question. Apart from seeing my girlfriend fall down the stairs in a club. Obviously.

Saturday:
Norman Cook is cool. This is a fact. He wears a shirt that on a mere mortal would be hideous and turns it into a statement. He chats with Bootsy Collins backstage, all freaky handshakes and reminiscing. I eavesdrop for a couple of minutes but its unintelligible. Karl from underworld is chatty as his parents drink tea from a flask next to him. Now, I'm not gay (honest) but Sam Sparro has got the lot. The San Disk stage has never been this packed and everybody is singing along to black and gold. I think a little piece of me falls in love with him. I'm on a mission today, not to meet Fatboy Slim, not to dance naked to Born Slippy but quite simply to blag some trainers. I rarely even wear trainers. But we always want what we cant have. Ten minutes of smooth-talking (begging) later and I'm the proud owner of a smashing pair of blue new balance trainers :-) screw you Matthew Horne, you may have a critically lauded comedic ratings winner on your hands but you'll never take my freedom! Or my blue trainers.

Sunday:
In the toilets I meet 'Jonny' who tells me he's in American rockers Bowling for Soup until I tell him that he's not because a) he's not fat and American and b) I just met them and they didn't seem to be missing any members. he confesses that he's actually a 'professional blagger'. women say that all guys are the same - they promise u the world but only end up giving you STD's. Jonny was the same (metaphorically of course), telling me he could get me side of stage and on the counting crows tour bus and ending up just about sneaking me through to the previously unattainable VIP area. Its like Heaven on earth. Although I personally wouldn't let that Steve Jones from T4 into heaven. Still, free .phpberry mojitos and smoked salmon is not to be sniffed at, although Jonny would probably give it a go. As I emerge back into the arena after my brush with the other side, I feel like I've landed in Australia. The entire population of Earls Court have decamped to Hyde Park to see Ben Harper and Counting Crows. I'm neither Australian/American/tone deaf so its not doing a lot for me. My work here is done, sorry Moz but it's me who is the last of the famous international playboys.

Some of the stars I ambushed, below: