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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

The Noise of Summer

The Boy was out last night practising erecting his Glastonbury tent in the back garden. Today he will continue to comb London for size 10 wellies. The Career Girl was at Wireless in Hyde Park on Sunday watching the Kaiser Chiefs and hundreds of other contemporary acts that I have trouble telling apart. The Young One, now alarmingly fifteen, was at Wembley on Sunday watching Muse from a distant postal code. She loved it but it was more to do with the excitement of being among that many people than the music. They're not particularly rock and roll offspring. Certainly not compared to my mates' kids. None of them have even thought about forming a band, for instance, and neither have they threatened to adopt a music-inspired haircut. It's just that going to the giant open air gig has become the thing that everybody has to do. I got through the whole of the 60s, the 70s (apart from one work connected day at Reading and a few Hyde Parks and Knebworths, which don't really count), the 80s and the 90s without going near a festival. I still feel that rock and roll is better when there's a roof over its head. I go to Cornbury and enjoy it but the music is the least important element. I've had many great days at the Test Match where I couldn't tell you a thing about the play.