Ice cream heaven since 2005(?)

Ben and Jerry’s Festival, Sunday 29th July 2007
It’s quite odd being at a festival on your own, not too mention a bit sad and lonely. Or at least traditionalists would have you believe. Indeed I thought so myself until very recently, when, grasping victory from the jaws of defeat (in the emotional sense), I found myself enjoying my rootless drifting around Clapham Common on a sunny Sunday afternoon. It helped that the weather was splendid of course, and that the village fete atmosphere had attracted lots of young families with babies and such like; not just paparazzi and moshers like at Reading or Leeds; but real genuine people who just want to have a good time in the sunshine and taste lots of free ice-cream. The timing helps make it feel special also- the 12 to 8 schedule is spot on for a more relaxed, chilled out vibe, and not having to scramble for a train at the end of an evening is very reassuring (does that make me sound old?).

So here I am with my camera and my determination to have at least some fun since the friend that was supposed to accompany me, redwineaddict, is suffering from an acute case of the spluttering-type lurgy (the evil demon). I don’t arrive too early, as being obviously on my own for that amount of time would undoubtedly make me feel self-conscious. But a 4.30 start suits me fine, and as I arrive I hear the bouncy fairground attractions that are The Holloways tuning up. I love the tub-thumping, social commentating, good time harlequins, and their catchy, but intelligent lyrics. Lyrics like

….May I remind you? That you don't live in poverty/ You got your youth/ and you got food in your belly.

Now you can’t criticise that kind of observational genius, can you? Anyway, an ice cream break is called for half way through their set and their rock chick girlfriends dutifully appear and deliver said dairy-based medicinal substances. Men it seems, must have their rock chicks and their substances…no matter how much of a social conscience they have.

After the Holloways have sung their latest single, Two Left Feet, and the ferociously paced track, Generator, not to mention the lovely ballad Most Lonely Face, I decide to go for a wander and take an amble over to the beer tent (I just happened to come across it), where I imbibe a spot of Magners, which is extremely good for the soul on a day like this. Then its ice-cream city, here I come. The flavours I sampled were (in no particular order): Berry Berry, Caramel Chew Chew, and Bohemian Raspberry. To be honest, that was enough for me (I’m an ice-cream lightweight, I confess). Anyway, there were all very nice in their own particular way, but Berry, Berry might have been my favourite for its overall fruity scrumptiousness (what more can you say about an ice cream, its not the Mona Lisa is it?). Seriously, you can’t criticise a festival where you get free ice-cream all day. The people that thought it up should be knighted, or given a dame-hood or whatever.

And so back to the stage, and its him of the chiselled features; the paparazzi favourite and Celebrity BB lover boy Preston (and the hangers on, sorry, Ordinary Boys). He’s a charmer in a East End, mockney, ‘I listened to lots of Madness records when I was young’ kind of way, and I can’t help warming to him a wee bit. He spurs people on to dance and even plays a rendition of the Beach Boys’ Do You Wanna Dance? to give us the opportunity to make hay whilst the sun shines. Unfortunately I think an over-indulgence of ice-cream has put the audience out of sorts and not much in the way of gyrating/twisting/shouting actually takes place (except for a man in a monkey suit who must have been sweating like an overheated crazy thing). I didn’t really know the Ordinary Boys' music much before this to be honest, but I quite liked their Seaside song, which seemed very appropriate. Bless their cotton socks.

Oh and there was some Scottish act (brothers I think) called The Proclaimers. Anybody know them? Sorry P and R. Yes, of course, I knew them of old and they delivered pretty much as expected. They were very jaunty on stage I thought and very prone to energetic clapping and stomping. I enjoyed classic Letter to America very much and also the new single Life With You is well worth a listen if you get a chance. In fact it was getting late and I fancied getting another look at the Vauxhall City Farm animals before I left, so I missed the last chunk of their set. Sound travels though, and I was serenaded by their Celtic warbling all the way to Clapham Common tube station.

Bye bye Ben and Jerrys. See you next year. GSG.