Of course, as many a younger teenager does, I visited the years of addiction to bands like Paramore and Sleeping With Sirens, however after briefly dwelling in this period I moved onto more classic and adored musicians, and fell in love with them just as fast. (Sorry Hayley W, I promise you're still my idol.) It seems Dickinson's wails are written so compatible with my ears that it almost hurts, along with Robert Plant's oozing voice dripping into the pores of my skin with a sort haunting intertwinement of acoustic and electric sounds only achievable by Zeppelin themselves. My dad's been to Download quite a few times, and as soon as the lineup was announced, I knew I would be there.
After effectively paying for my ticket via the installment plan (perfect for teenagers with part time jobs- thank you Download!) the 10th of June could not come quick enough. I was also fortunate enough to go see AC/DC with Axl Rose the night before, thanks to my boyfriend and his parents, and also (thank God) my AS Level exams finished that day, so I would be all set for a weekend away. The sun had been shining all week, so what could possibly go wrong?
That, I soon found out, was wishful thinking.
It seems a very British habit to concern ourselves with the weather, but when you're knee deep in thick, invading mud and you've had to break out the emergency tent because is literally floating atop a puddle, it's pretty an understandable stereotype. It was probably one of the scariest occurrences of my life when I woke up next to my boyfriend while his skin was blue and he was shaking more vigorously than an earthquake's aftershock because he kindly gave me the one dry sleeping bag.
The rain barely ceased; it was a relentless and merciless deterrent, preventing campfires to good health to dry sleep- however, did it stop Black Sabbath's face-melting show? Did it stop us turning out to see Nightwish's symphonic laments almost break glass? Of course not.
Much to my companions' surprise, I was uninterested in seeing Rammstein. I, of course, can appreciate why people would enjoy German men growling whilst setting fire to their faces, but it's not for me. So, despite being made fun of and my age (being the youngest of the group) being ridiculed, I went to the second stage for All Time Low. Even though I haven't exactly riveted in their new album after having felt I had outgrown Alex and Jack, I was immediately transported back to my memories of Year 9 and became the shrieking fan girl I swore I would avoid. I really loved it.
That night, after catching the last of Rammstein terrify and excite its audience with "Du Hast", bed was calling. I was absolutely knackered (which isn't exactly a surprise from I, the permanent dormouse) however my sleep was significantly disrupted by the camp next to us screaming Ozzy for a few hours in a drunk stupor. I guess that is to be expected at festivals, however my inability to breathe -another factor of my sleepless night - isn't. And that, ladies and gentleman, is how I found out I had asthma- slap bang in the middle of a field. How absolutely fantastic?
After eventually drifting off in our two man tent, which we ended up sharing with rather too many beetles and all our bags and luggage, Saturday had begun. The queue for the toilets was, it appeared, longer than the campsite itself, and the toilets themselves were the epitome of grim, so I was not the happiest of persons on my return from that trek. Nonetheless, once a bacon sarnie was in my hands, life immediately got better. (Note to self, bring more money next time- everything is beyond extortionate.)
The day was pretty much spent relaxing in the tent away from the rain. My boyfriend (Joe) and I had to resurrect a spare tent as ours had fought its last battle and resembled more of a puddle and a tent, so that was used for my much needed naps and space; second note to self- just don't go with the male gender, as they're kind of gross, and although they provide great quality banter (!!!) they don't understand the female mind, which I guess you can't blame them for.
Anyway, the morning and afternoon went pretty quickly and it was soon time to start the long haul to the main stage for Sabbath. Said trek was highlighted by the skidding and tripping of so many festival goers on the swamp like amount of liquid mud. I think Download is also definitely home to the weirdest visitors, as the sheer volume of people penguin sliding on their bellies was almost comical, as well as the diverse collection of masks, costumes, and political views being portrayed.
Of course, the heavens remained open for Sabbath's dynamic opening, middle, and finale. Let me tell you this now - rain ponchos work. Yes, you look like a giant clear condom, and it's clear they aren't the embodiment of fashionable dress sense, but my torso and backside remained dry as a bone, and arms are easy to dry anyway. Doc Martens are also a god send, as my feet remained toasty and dehydrated, unlike my companions, who appeared to be suffering from trench foot by the Sunday evening.
Sabbath opened to graphics representing fire and the devil (a massive thank you to the Sabbath technicians who chose to use jets of fire- they warmed us briefly) and frankly, it scared me - but I loved it. As Black Sabbath are Joe's all time favourite band, i wanted to get to the barrier, but drunken middle aged headbangers,who seemed to lose the ability to control their limbs, prevented this. We were ridiculously close to Osbourne, Iommi, Butler and Ward though ( as you can see on this pic) and, to summarise, it was phenomenal. I like to appreciate music by really listening and concentrating, which requires my face to contort to a "resting bitch face" so it looked as if I was either depressed, pissed, or experiencing some sort of amnesia, but rest assured I wasn't. I was surprised at the amount of songs I actually knew really well, and Iommi's craftsmanship of his solos worked so well with the place setting- he really emphasized his skill and musicianship with- pardon the rock cliche- face-melting riffs. Ozzy, despite not being able to rock his hips or clap to the real beat of any songs, sang so well (and remembered the words) I was pleasantly surprised to hear- it really was a brilliant show., .even though I was soaked and freezing.
Night number 2 was when I awoke to find Joe pretty much the same colour blue as the tent. After we arrived at the camp after a grueling hike through the "Download swamp", we returned to sodden sleeping bags, sleeping mats and tent floor. Due to the perfect gentleman I was bunking with, I go the dry(er) sleeping arrangement- however heat was still much to be desired. My girlish teenage tantrum probably didn't help either.
Sunday morning actually bloomed slightly sunny (and that obviously didn't last long). I did unfortunately miss Halestorm and Disturbed due to faults unknown (probably the weather, and the fact that it nearly an hour to get to the arena from the blue camp) but it would take a lot more than water for me to miss Bruce and the rest of the Ed Force 1 crew.
I won't write extensively of what we got up to during the day as it was fairly uninteresting and mainly time wasting, much like the Saturday, so again I will fast-forward to the evening.
Sunday night, after stamping my foot about being cold, wet, unclean and frankly quite greasy, my father lovingly offered to take me home after the show, which honestly, psychologically made me enjoy Maiden's show so much more- the dread of sleeping in an icy pool was eliminated.
Of course, those who know Maiden and their shows know that they open with UFO's "Doctor Doctor", so it was pretty funny watching the confused faces of younger generations juxtaposed with middle aged men and women going, in a word, mental.
I want to make something really, really clear- even if you do not like a band as world-wide famous and skilled as Maiden does not give you an excuse to insult them. I mean, Jesus, Dickinson has just recovered from stage 3 tongue cancer and his wails are still top notch. He can fly a plane. He has a doctorate in music for crying out loud.
Anyway, the show was incredible. I met the oddest variety of people in the audience, I screamed my head off, and yes, of course, I cried. Steve Harris and Janick Gers were as energetic as if they were still teenagers after the band formed that Christmas Day so long ago, and the music and enthusiasm they produced created vibrations, that the audience went wild for. I always say phrases like *insert event/thing here* is "the best thing ever" but my time there, in the Download audience for Iron Maiden 2016, was one of the best times of my entire time life.
In retrospect, I can think of a list of things I would do differently when (not if) I go to another festival, and I'm gonna share these tips with you:
1) Bring more money than you think is enough. Whether it be due to the weather, or a domestic between friends or family, or possessions being stolen, you will probably need it. And everything is extortionate. And the merch is pretty cool.
2) Embrace weirdness. Especially in somewhere as wonderfully odd as Download, you're going to come across a diverse range of eccentric individualists. Don't be judgmental just deal with it okay? Most people are nice.
3)Like the money tip, bring more bedding and an extra tent. Festivals in England will be unpredictable weather wise. I think you'll understand from the rest of this post why this is necessary.
To briefly conclude, Download 2016 was such a great time. Yes, it's true, if it had been sunnier, it would have been better, but still if a festival is still awesome when the weather is crap, it must have been good. I want to thank the lovely people I went with and met for making it a fantastic weekend, and also the phenomenally talented acts. I feel genuinely privileged to have been there.
Thanks for reading!
No comments:
Post a Comment