Yesterday was metal day, and under normal circumstances this would result in me running for the hills in an attempt to avoid said noise. However, the planets conspired (with, possibly, assistance from a barman or two) to leave me sated by Slayer and moshing to Mastodon - the latter saw a trio of skinny DiSsers forming a series of pits with burly Norwegian metalheads and somehow living to tell the tale. There are photos.
Earlier in the day, I had a chat with Dorian from The Long Blondes after their cracking headline set in the pink tent. Topics of conversation included the recording of their second LP for Rough Trade (it'll be out, hopefully, early next year) and how much better European festivals are than their English counterparts. We also discussed the weather in Sheffield - where we both have the pleasure of residing - and how it'd be nice if the whole New Yorkshire phenomenon got washed away by the deluge. He also told me who'd be producing on the next record, but I'm sworn to secrecy. However, I can tell you that it's not Steve Mackey (the man behind their debut, 'Someone To Drive You Home') or, indeed, gun-toting loon Phil Spector.
In other news, The Lionheart Brothers were great despite a 4pm time slot, DiS snapper Gary almost broke his nose after taking a 'butt to the face during Slayer and, letting the side down somewhat, Will went to see Damien Rice instead of the aforementioned metal behemoths. Why, Will, why?