Saturday 19/08/06 Day 2 @ Lowlands Festival, Holland

Gigwise is not well today and by the time we crawl out into the blistering daylight, there is a sweaty queue of irritated tent trolls leading half a mile down the road into the showers. And it costs a bloody Munt to have one as well. Deciding to look for a refreshing wake up call elsewhere, we wonder past the Guillemots tent and discover a small bamboo hut selling such delights as Herbal Ecstasy and Happy Tea. Opting for the latter and discovering some gulps later that it does not do what it said on the tin, we make our way to the Chinese food tent. Collapsing on a mound of crap and clutching polystyrene trays, we look like a right load of tramps but begin to finally come round. Hawthorne Heights are starting to get into their set on the Grolsch stage and are delighted to be here. After every song, they seem to thank everyone right up to God for allowing them to be here “in your beautiful country”. The chugging chords, squealing lead and slightly nasal vocals that dominate most of the songs creates some surprisingly pleasant background music. ‘Pens and Needles’ is particularly catchy and melodic but overall it's way too bland to push to the front for. The gig ends with front man JT thanking everyone again and yelling “BUY OUR T.SHIRT!”

Having a wander around some of the stalls, we discover a tattoo parlour, hairdressers and some very reasonably priced vintage shops dotted around. For the poorer or scabbier festival goer, there’s even several recycling points that offer one whole Munt for every ten plastic glasses collected off the floor. There is so much attention to detail here at Lowlands, and as we excitedly make our way to see Dirty Pretty Things , we pass one of the many rather surreal forms of ‘entertainment’ that have been laid on; a series of tables placed in a line with a scary looking clown sat at each. A lone chair is situated opposite for the purposes of a staring competition, should you fancy it. 

For the first time, the crowd is predominantly British and we are able to see something for once, given that the average height over here seems to be seven foot something. Pressed against the barriers and feeling like Westlife fans, there are frantic whispers from those unfamiliar with DPT; “Are these The Libertines? Will Pete be there?” Others are debating what song they’ll play first. Everyone shuts up as the band swagger on as the portly VJ barely finishes introducing them. Carl Barat is dressed in a green jacket with the album artwork painted on the back and Union Jack sling (the result of a motorcycle accident apparently). His band of merry men crowd about him and they charge head first into their debut album, the vocals at at least tens times their normal speed, yet every word comes out crisp and clear. The two Libertines covers ‘I Get Along’ and ‘Death On The Stairs’ get the rowdiest response that is until the audience bait their breath as Anthony Rossomando produces a gleaming trumpet from up a sleeve somewhere, blasting a hole in the silence. The few that recognise what they’re about to be treated to are already bouncing. As the first jagged, thumping chords of ‘Bang Bang You’re Dead’ belt through the warm air, the place erupts and much to Mr Barat’s amusement, the whole front of the stage explodes into a mosh pit/dance off. The band are a joy to watch; tight as **** they press up close and eyeball each other whilst stamping out every note with a cowboy booted heel. The chemistry is spellbinding.

Like old friends, we don’t want them to go so soon and after receiving a reception as warm and comforting as your Ma’s soup, the band seem a bit reluctant too. Didz generously chucks a plectrum at the front row only to have it ping back at him off the barrier. A burly bouncer leaps forward, teasingly placing the prize into one eager hand then another before cruelly hurling it as far as he can. Didz’s “just give it to them” falling on deaf ears. Most novel stage exit goes to Drummer Gary who after waving frantically for a good five minutes after the rest of the band left the stage, dons a single rubber armband and does a kind of upright doggy paddle off the stage.

Gigwise are on a high all night after this performance and sit back with soaring hearts to the tones of Massive Attack; whilst along with everyone else, cheesily cheering on the ‘good guys’ for running over the evil prozzers in the film Hostel which has been projected onto an enormous screen outside.