i love your box

festival review >> lovebox >> london >> 16.07.10

i loved lovebox. not that i can remember much, but on that basis i can pretty much assume i had a jolly good time.

the day started with sunshine and a fear of our drinks being confiscated upon our arrival. with this in mind we necked some of our homemade cocktails in a hastily organised drinkathon outside the festival gates, resembling two naughty teenagers about to enter their first school disco for a bit of a fingering. with drinks drunk and legs a little loose, we passed the burly security guards without even a cheeky grope to check for our remaining arsenal of vodka. what was already a blur of a day, was about to get a whole lot blurrier...

my ever fading memories of friday include bombay bicycle club, the mystery jets and the maccabees, three of my favourite bands of today. they could have played boyzone covers for all i remember, so don't expect reports of set-lists or highlights from me. i can assume though from all our smiley photographs now cluttering the world of social networking, we were having a whale of a time. there's photographic evidence of backstage action, some heavy drinking, fairground rides, some wrestling with my now bruised little sister but sadly no evidence of my lost gay man-bag. said misplaced bag resulted in a night on the tiles for us. actually when i say tiles, i mean pebbles. yep, no bag meant no key, no key meant no entrance to my house and no entrance meant no bed. any remotely sober festival goer would have quickly realised that in such circumstances the one mile journey to my girlfriend's house would have been the quick fix solution. not for us. our joyous drunken mood obviously led us to mistakenly believe the pebbles in the front garden would be inviting and cosy. they weren't, but thank you lovebox, thank you for the drunken good times that have led to my now four day old aching back.

as is obvious from the above, with arsenal of vodka quickly consumed, i have minimal evidence in my aching head to back up my claims that lovebox was a lot of fun, however i can reflect from my few lasting visions and photographs that the sun helped, the lack of mud was a massive boost and the 'we're here for a day so let's fucking have it' mindset amongst everyone contributed to what made this day so forgetful - in a good way! what i'm trying to say, is that because lovebox was such a laugh the fact that we can't remember seeing anyone doesn't matter, the lost bag doesn't matter, the night spent asleep in my cold front garden and the now unshakeable aching bones do not matter... i wouldn't have had it any other way. see you next year for more of the same vicky park, pebbles 'n all...

9.5