Disclaimer: This article is a satirical piece that in no way reflects the views of, or is supported by, the writer and this publication as a whole.
Summer is here with her big, sunny kisses which means it’s time for you to think about festivals. Are you grooving at Glastonbury? Raving at Reading? Blacking out on the Isle of Wight? Wherever you are pitching your tent and watching your self-respect get stuck in the mud outside an overflowing portaloo, we have some tips for navigating the summer music scene, essential items, and time-honoured advice to make it the best summer ever.
First of all, you are going to want to bring some very low standards: the lower the better. Much of the component parts of a festival are underwhelming; high prices, wet campsites, and even wetter people. Heaven forbid you to turn up expecting sun and clean facilities, only to inevitably find yourself in a re-enactment of the Somme, with disappointment hot on your heels. Set the bar seriously low, then anything that pans out well will be a blessing.
Much of the component parts of a festival are underwhelming; high prices, wet campsites, and even wetter people
Secondly, take drugs, lots of drugs. Your author recommends in descending order: MDMA, ketamine, LSD, 2C-B, alcohol, other. Nobody comes to a festival to stay in their right mind, so why stop with the benign booze? Cut a little loose and inject some acid into your eyeballs, it will really brighten the day. These days, most events have drug amnesty bins outside the entrance, so why not scoop up a big handful of baggies, pick and mix style, that other idiots have tossed in panic and try something new? Leave your heroin at home though, it’s not the most conducive to live music.
I can imagine nothing better than seeing a Stormzy set with flare-induced blindness, a mouthful of orange gas and a gorilla in a pair of John Lennon glasses trying to force me into a mosh pit
Third, take a flare, a smoke grenade, and your most aggressive friends. I can imagine nothing better than seeing a Stormzy set with flare-induced blindness, a mouthful of orange gas and a gorilla in a pair of John Lennon glasses trying to force me into a mosh pit. Make sure you throw the smoke grenade into the crowd when it’s empty so that it hits someone in the face, and point the flare at someone else so that they get burnt instead of you. Get your mosh mates to choose their targets carefully. Aim for the people on the fringes of the pit who look scared, weak or who are trying to run away; they secretly want to be dragged into the circle of hell that is the mosh pit, the one that Dante was too scared to go down in his Inferno. Let none escape.
Take all these sensible precautions and I guarantee that you and your friends will be making memories and swiftly forgetting them once you pass out next to the Paella truck. If you are lucky you may even get free entry into the VIP area in the local police station; rumour has it they have hot showers, beds and tea on tap. Above all, remember that the music is the least important part. You are there to see red, black out, and make your friends green with envy. Watching The Beatles would only spoil it.
