Stinkin' Up The Great Outdoors

Late afternoon in the open air
A human sea made out of mud and hair
Ain't nothing like a festival crowd
There's too many people so we play too loud

Smalls, St Hubbins, Tufnell: Break Like The Wind (1992)

I think Spinal Tap had it right. Music festivals are a nightmare. A urine-soaked, drug-ridden nightmare. And if Roger Waters isn't bringing in his own quad stacks, the sound is as muddy as the field the orc-like masses have to camp in. But I'm being sucked into one, nonetheless. It's drawing me in like a progrock magnet. If the 1990 Monsters Of Rock Festival marked the end of 80s Rock (and it did); and the 1990 Nordoff Robbins Silver Clef Awards concert was maligned as a tribute to the dinosaurs of rock (and it was), then the 2010 inaugural Classic Rock High Voltage Festival, taking place July 24-25 in London's Victoria Park, promises to be just as fantastic as they were. It's the Isle of Wight 1971, with a classic car exhibition. It's going to be hard to resist. Just look who's headlining...