Pitchfork the Saturday, 2009 // saturday part one

This day especially I wanted to get to Pitchfork for day2 early 'cause I knew that I was going to klas later that nite. However, I lag about and retracing yesterdays route to the almost exact pkg space gets me into the fest @ 3.30 or so - just in time to find our space under the trees - and say hello to one of Crankface's old guitarists, Stickwife, and son. kool. and that music .. after touching base w/ all 2 base camp, my sittin camp relaxing ears here The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. I like. sounds ral good. So good, I finally realise that I should ditch camp and squattle over and see. And am rewarded. See - one could hear just about as well in base camp as to where I went. But my real physical act of walking 100 yeards over betwixt peoples and blankets and porta potties forces me to flush out all conversation and pretence of anything else except to listen and watch and enjoy.

And be deeply rewarded, in a way no other group did this wkd - it turned me onto something unknown before Friday.

Oh - it made me the butt of jokes. When i piped up that this was rad, a Smiths crack was made. Then Gunners, admidst the crowd, seconded the Smiths crack by saying that the people next to him had just made the more or less same joke. And a fine joke it was.

here's more:

There were other groups and sounds to be had: Bowerbirds, Pony tail, Doom, etc - but besides Pure, this was for me - and, it turned out, lots of my frenz - a lite nite. To make it to Klas and Gf, I wanted to leave 'round 7pm or so. I left it to 7.30p. And - strangelt to say - most of the people did the same. For whatever reason, nobody was all that enthused for the nites sechedule - and tho' there were some stayers - we all sorta tramped out @ once.

It was a worrisome day. I was suposed to go on stage this nite to do a performance @ Klas - but have taken so many terrible body blows lately, I decided to pull a "Magik Lasso" and cancel myself. I still wanyted to go - but so deeply depressed any semblence of me being out there on stage - not likely this lifetime.

But, again, like last nite, I took solace in the prtetion of the tribe. there they were, all around me. There were the seats, the blankts, the little kids, the beers, the people to watch, and frenz. Despite it being April 1945 and I'm defending Berlin, I made it to Pitchfork, w conversent to all the poeple who my paths crossed w/ unexpectedly - cousins, frenz, coachs, etc etc... I ate, drank a bit, and enjoyed Pure.