Made of Stone Festival 2024 (Day Two) Mote Park, Maidstone, Kent. Sat 20th July, 2024.

The hotel's breakfast buffet was delicious. We noticed one of the festival's press photographers also having breakfast and Bob, being Bob, introduced himself to her. We chatted, and Louise shared her concern over last night's poor stage lighting, complaining that most of her shots of GUN were in silhouette. She recommended we check out her Instagram page to see more of her work. https://www.instagram.com/louise_phillips_photography/  

Louise in action

Now that we were no longer staying within walking distance of the festival, we decided that, as I don't drink, it would be fairer for Bob to drive in and for me to drive back, allowing him to sample the festival's many beers.

We went for a wander around Maidstone, checking out the shops around the town centre.  

For Those About to Rock, we have an apt cannon.

Already, the day's heat was building, so we sought shade in a cafe and drank some refreshments before heading for Mote Park. The queue outside the event was fairly long, but Bob knew there were two queues: one for those still to get their wristbands and another for those like us who had gotten theirs the previous night. We joined the shorter queue.

I hadn't brought my poncho because the weather forecast said it would stay dry, and I didn't want to carry a bag all day. We sorted out a round of drinks and sat at a bench in the VIP area, listening to Daxx and Roxane, who were playing over on the Phoenix Stage. 

Then it rained. 

The shower only lasted ten minutes, but it was heavy enough to make us decamp to below the awning of the bar area. Bob had his poncho with him and put it on. Fortunately, this was the only time over the weekend that he needed it.

A soundcheck was taking place on the main Inferno stage, and quickly, I realised that the VIP area was perhaps not the best place to listen to the bands as both stages could be heard simultaneously. With the festival being so small, or 'boutique', this was inevitable. The problem didn't occur, obviously, when you were in front of the stage.

Scarlet Rebels have some catchy tunes. Perhaps it was their South Wales accents, but they reminded me of a rockier Stereophonics. I enjoyed them enough to buy a ticket for their upcoming tour. Hopefully, the sound quality will be better at The Cathouse. As the first band on that stage, I think the sound guys were still working out the levels.

Then, it was over to The Commoners. I'd seen this Canadian band before supporting Samantha Fish at the Barrowlands. I'd been impressed by their performance then, and today's show was equally good. I couldn't help imagining getting out the Brasso to wipe off the verdigris-coloured tattoos from the lead singer's arms. I was standing too far back to shoot any good videos. There were a lot of tall people attending and my camera would focus on their heads and baseball caps rather than the band on stage. 

Ignore the backdrop, these are The Commoners.

I spotted a festival veteran wearing a pretty cool hat with all his wristbands sewn in like tassels. I wonder if his frequent festival attendance had anything to do with his pair of hearing aids. 

I skipped South of Salem and went to get some lunch next, choosing a turkey baguette with all the trimming, managing to drop some of the crest of my stomach bump, staining my t-shirt. The water at the sinks in the VIP toilets had all the pressure of a man with a struggling prostate, but somehow, I managed to wipe away most of the marks. 

Then I crashed. The early start and lack of sleep caught up with me, and I needed a sit-down. I found an empty half bench and politely asked if I could join the man already sitting there. He said yes, as it was a friendly place (for the most part). It felt so good to take my substantial weight off my feet. When Rivers Meet played a curtailed set due to the sound engineers' difficulty getting their equipment to work. I didn't enjoy the band as much as I thought I would, but I was tired. The crowd cleared again. 

I watched a toddler dressed in his black AB/CD T-shirt play, dance, and jump around with his mum. His joy was infectious. I realised that the kid had been to as many festivals as I had (if not more). 

Then, a large woman appeared, carrying a loaded flatbread from the Greek food stall, and plopped herself in the small gap between me and the man. She did say, 'Excuse me,' but by that time, her landing gear was already committed to hitting the bench. I shifted over as much as I could but couldn't escape the touch of her thighs, which seemed to flow like unset blancmange to fill the gap. When she accidentally dropped some of the toppings, she angrily kicked them away with her flip-flops. Her son and husband joined her, standing in front as there were no other free benches. I'll not forget the sound of her masticating while talking to them. When she rose to go somewhere, her husband claimed her spot, creating a six-inch gap between us. Ah, the relief. But she came back. Her son brought her ice cream, and I feared a Mrs Creosote moment. I spotted a man looking for somewhere to sit, clutching a loaded baked potato, and decided time to go. 

I chose to sit in front of the stage, my back supported by the barrier. Wayward Sons would be on later, and I wanted a good view. I've always been fascinated by Toby Jepson's parlance on Planet Rock, wondering if it was all scripted or if he made it up on the spot. Anyway, his band was great. I noticed that because the photographers were only present for the first three songs, the band tended to pull their favourite poses during this period, creating a slightly artificial effect. They had only just started and were already in full-blown rock-god mode. It didn't put me off, though.

Bloody Typical

I waited at the barrier after the band finished, determined to keep the same spot for Those Damn Crows. They were my main draw for attending the festival, along with GUN and Massive Wagons, and I wanted a great view. This meant missing The Warning, who, by all accounts, were rather good.  Other people hung around, too, but most wandered off. A man on crunching took the space between me and another girl. Then, a gaggle of ladies appeared and reached past him to grab the barrier. They didn't give him any space. The band were not going to be on for ages and they were right in his face. He left, feeling pushed out. I stayed my ground, even though I had a back shoved against me for most of the time. I even overheard them talking about using their elbows to make space for the others, not realising I was listening. I shot them back a 'fuck you' stare, and they giggled like naughty school girls caught by teacher. Anyway, I held onto my space at the barrier.

Those Damn Crows were soooo good. I love their songs. When Shane jumped off the stage to join the crowd, he stood right in front of me at one point. I didn't know what to do. He was looking right at me. Was he going to leap onto the step on the other side of the barrier and sing to the crowd? Was he going to jump over and join us? I then realised too late he was looking to Hi-5 me and, by the time I'd raised my hand, he'd already tapped me on the shoulder and moved on. Still, it was a moment.

Two things gutted me (but not enough to dampen my enjoyment). The first was when I thought I'd filmed the whole of Blink of an Eye, only to discover it stopped after three minutes. I must have accidentally touched the stop button when the lady beside me nudged me (I don't think on purpose). The second was when I realised my camera had started in portrait for the final song. When I flipped it to landscape it meant the whole recording ended up sideways. Sigh! Never mind. The Crows were superb, and I was floating on another high.

This time, I knew what to expect.

Let's Go Psycho

This Time I'm Ready

When Will I see You Again

We chilled in the VIP area during Wolfmother, leaving before the end of their set. None of us were into them, but they still sounded good, and the crowd was up for them. 

The drive back to the hotel was fun, as I'd never driven an automatic before and had to learn not to use my left leg. It was only a short journey, and we got back to the hotel without incident. The car's headlights revealed a rabbit on the grass. I wished I had taken the photograph just so I could label it "Rabbit in the Headlights."

PS Bob got very drunk. He doesn't remember if he saw Tyketto.

Wayward Sons Setlist:

Big Day

Feel Good Hit

Don't Wanna Go

Punchline

Bloody Typical

Land of the Blind

Fake

Faith in Fools

Crush

Ghost

Until the End

Joke's on You

Those Damn Crows setlist

Who Did It

Man on Fire

Send the Reaper

Let's Go Psycho

Wake Up (Sleepwalker)

Find a Way

Takedown

I Am

Lay It All on Me

Blink of an Eye

Kingdom of Dust

Sin on Skin

Rock N Roll Ain't Dead

This Time I'm Ready

See You Again

Made of Stone Festival 2024 (Day One). Mote Park, Maidstone, Kent. Fri 19th July, 2024.

This was my first rock festival. Somehow, despite attending hundreds of gigs, I'd reached the age of fifty-five, still a rock festival virgin (TRNSMT doesn't count as it was only for one day, and I got to go home afterwards). But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Three of us (Bob, Scott, and I) headed down from Renfrewshire to Maidstone, leaving at 6 a.m. Bob kindly volunteered to drive. His daughter had booked our accommodation through Booking.com for a location within easy walking distance of Mote Park, the home of the festival. 

We stopped off a couple of times along the way, the first for breakfast at Mainsgill Farmshop in East Layton (an excellent cafe and shop with a delicious breakfast and a huge range of cakes and scones) and again for lunch and petrol at one of the motorway service stations (less tasty but more eye-opening as the queue for the Ladies stretched halfway through the food mall, resulting in some joining the shorter queue for the Gents' cubicles). 

All good so far. 

Mainsgill Farmshop

As we arrived on Union Street in Maidstone at 3.30 pm, the weather was burning hot (over 30 degrees). Leaving the car in the nearby public car park, we carried our bags to the house. Bob was concerned because he hadn't received the email yet containing the keycode to unlock the key safe, but we'd just witnessed a man open the front door for a nurse, so we knew someone was inside. It did imply, however, that there was a possibility the place had been double-booked. 

It was worse than that. 

We knocked on the door and were greeted by a man who sounded of Eastern European origin. He indicated he was the current owner, that the site was now an occupied private residence, and that he had instructed Booking.com to remove his listing six months earlier. Despite booking and paying in full four months earlier, we realised this meant we now had nowhere to stay.

Bob got straight onto the travel agent while Scott and I got out our phones to search for suitable accommodation within Maidstone. Neither of us had any luck. The Booking.com agent, an American, was cordial but not much use. He identified there had been an error, offered us 25 Euro compensation on top of our refund, and looked into finding us somewhere nearby. They were not prepared to pay for more expensive accommodation as that was not how the system worked. Price was irrelevant, though, as there was nothing left in town. 

Of course, there wasn't! There was a bloody three-day festival on!

After an hour of back-and-forth with the agent, we found a hotel in a nearby village with sufficient rooms to accommodate the three of us for the duration of our stay. The agent made the booking and gave us the option of paying them again or waiting and paying directly at the hotel. Like we were going to give Booking.com any more money! 

The Mercure Maidstone Great Danes Hotel was nice, certainly less smelly than the residence in Dogshit Street, as we renamed it. Steve in reception was sympathetic to our situation and arranged two rooms beside one another on the first floor.

The titular Great Danes

We dumped our stuff and drove back into town, parking somewhat ironically in the same car park beside that residence. By now, we knew we couldn't make it to the festival for the start, so we headed instead to a McDonald's for dinner. The first one we tried was closed. I hadn't realised it was in a mall, but we did get to watch three argumentative kids, suspected of shoplifting, being held by security. 

We ended up at this McDonald's. 

We sat in to eat, despite there being a child play area inside. I took comfort in pretending the children's shrieks were due to an axe murderer slaughtering them, but then my imagination went too far, suggesting the burger meat was now made from the children's flesh. Not so tasty, but at least they'd given us an extra free McFlurry by mistake. I hate to imagine which bodily fluid they used to make them.  

We then trekked to Mote Park, arriving much later than intended, missing the entire set of the first band, White Raven Down. Attaching our VIP wristbands, we headed in and collected our goody bags from the merch booth. The tote bag contained a programme, a lanyard with the festival schedule attached, and a reusable cup.

After a quick site recce, we made it to the VIP rest area, bought some well-deserved drinks and settled down to listen to Blaze Bayley from the benches. The cheap soft drinks I'd anticipated didn't quite work out that way when I discovered the £2.50 price tag was only for half a cup of our reusable pint tumblers. Sneaky bastards! 

While people-watching, I was amazed to see the huge variety of festival and band T-shirts being worn. Knowing I was among my people gave me a warm feeling.

I'd kinda forgotten Blaze Bayley was, for a time, Iron Maiden's frontman. It was only when the tunes went on and on without any lyrics that it twigged. I'd given up on the Irons after Bruce left, so I  didn't know the songs. I have to give Blaze credit for the passion of his delivery. They may have sounded like an Iron Maiden tribute act, but that's unfair because the singer was actually in the band.

At the end of his set, as the crowd dispersed to restock their drinks and stomachs (but mainly drinks), I managed to secure a spot on the barrier at the front of the Phoenix Stage. I was so happy. No one was going to stand between me and my heroes - GUN. I even messaged my wife to tell her the good news.

No one in front of me this time!

Then this happened.

The press photographers swarmed like paparazzi, constantly moving about, desperate to snap (and sell) whatever iconic shot they could grab from the night. They remained there for the first three songs, somewhat detracting from the quality of my video.  

Regardless, I loved GUN's set, despite the pesky photographers, the lack of proper stage lighting, the poor sound quality, and my concern for Dante's health (he was sweating badly but still kept on three layers, his vocals not at full strength). I wished it could have gone on for longer, but by the time they were midway through Fight for Your Right, they'd overrun, and their mics got cut. Show over. 

Afterwards, I was on such a dopamine high I beamed like a Maidstone Cat, a feeling that would repeat multiple times over the festival.

Bob drove us back to the hotel. 

Show opener - Lucky Guy, Here's Where I Am, & Don't Say It's Over

 Better Days

Shame On You & Fight For Your Right (until the mic cut)

Planet Rock DJ, Paul Anthony

Can someone put the lights on, please?

Ticket Price Adult Weekend Ticket £150

VIP Upgrade Adult Weekend Ticket £50.00

Booking fees £21.00

Handling Fee £1.00

Grand Total £222.00 via Skiddle