Living on the Front Line

4 Responses

  1. Ah well, different shit, same year. Or something like that. Or the total opposite. I got ripped off of £30 by a couple of bogus DS with a big stick that year. Thinking…
    I remember one night at Suusex University at one of their all nighters, just as the dawn was breaking over Falmer, me and a handful of chums decided to pool our illegals and celebrate the rebirth of the eternal dawn in a blaze of mental fuzziness. There were tabs, bits of green stuff, some powder, the scrapings from Tall Barry’s sole and possibly some discarded body parts. Or at least a fragment or two of ear wax. They were all mixed up in a half beaker of flat beer and Tall Barry decided to be the first to try it, but thought it would be a wheeze to filter it through one of his socks. This is where I developed my love of cookery.
    Wow. Perfectly preserved Duck Decoy. That’s the sort of thing that makes life so great!
    I’ve pimped you on my site, by the way. Even rearranged my modules to make you prominent.

  2. Ian Marchant says:

    No, Graham, no. Your memory has been addled by all the amyl nitrate we snarfed up in the tent. Quo was ’78, the last year I went to Reading. I got threatened and roughed up for my cricketing outfit by some members of the Quo Army, who were offended by somebody wearing a tie at a festival.

  3. Ian my love. I was there with you. It was the Quo Army, lowering in the distance like a storm front. They threw cans and bottles of urine at us. They knocked each other’s teeth out as a show of affection. John Peel asked for a show of peace love and understanding but they didn’t inhabit the same biosphere as us. Was that the year Patti Smith played?

  4. Ian Marchant says:

    In the clip of Your Dad at last years’ Glasto, the audience member is Matthew Barnard, a great and good man, who we met during The Longest Crawl on the boat from Aberdeen to Lerwick.

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