The Second Time I Didn't See the Pistols
Having failed to see the Sex Pistols once, the opportunity arose to see them play the Phoenix festival a few weeks later. As on the previous occasion, I was working as a steward and - joy! - my shifts were timed perfectly. I wouldn't actually be on duty when the Pistols were playing.

On the first night, I was put on fire tower duty. This meant I was stuck on top of a wobbly scaffolding structure in a field, watching over the campsite to make sure that noone lit a bonfire. From about half a mile away, I could just make out the top of the main stage and the screens that were relaying Bowie and Björk.

I'd clearly demonstrated that I was good at fire towers, because the following day I was given the same role in a different field. On this occasion, though, it was during the day. I thought that this would be good: I'd do my stint, and then use my nearly-all-areas pass to go and see some great bands in the evening.

It didn't work out that way. There's no shade on a fire tower, and Phoenix '96 was very hot and very sunny. One of the Glaswegian security dudes and I did a couple of desultory laps of the campsite to make sure that there was nothing shifty going on - with the odd exception, there was little of interest - but eventually gave up with that and sat atop the tower to enjoy the sun.

Did I mention we had no water? No? Well, we had no water.

By early in the afternoon, I was beginning to suffer. "You know what," I said to the security bloke, "I think I'm going to have to knock off. I don't feel so well."
He looked at me for a moment, and told me that I didn't look so well either.

From that point, I can't remember much - except waking up a couple of hours later in the first aid tent with sunstroke. I was one among many, and they were running a reasonably effective triage system. Fortunately, I'd been wearing a t-shirt, so wasn't burned - and this meant that, as soon as I woke up and it was apparent that all I really needed was liquid and sleep, I was encouraged to fuck off.

I crawled back to my tent wherein I shivered and fitfully slept for the rest of the festival. The Pistols were due to play the Sunday evening. I'd decided I'd had enough long before that, though, and went home.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Mon 8 Jun 2009, 11:54, 1 reply)

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Really you've missed nothing saw them in a field in London somewhere around 2002 or 3 and they were crap. To be honest I really can't remember much about it, it really was a very dull day out!
(cmouse is pondering about life in other jobs, Mon 8 Jun 2009, 13:29, closed)