Live blogging; it’s the future. I’m typing this in real time from the KP Nuts Field at this year’s – or maybe next year’s – Glastonbury, hammering at the virtual keys of my Apple iPob XII with magic fingers whilst in a far-off, shimmering distance, Lady Gaga or Lulu or some such perform the songs of Thin Lizzy to a braying crowd shipped in from the Nuremberg Rally.
I’m actually live blogging whilst watching Upside Down – The Creation Records Story, which already doesn’t contain anywhere near enough My Bloody Valentine for my liking. Alan McGee, all stupid hat and flatulent ego – that’s the slant the producer has gone for. One saving grace: vintage TV footage of McGee in a Spacemen 3 t-shirt, being interviewed by none other than Tony Wilson (whose own label-owning story is far more nuanced). Still, that’s that, and by the time the documentary turns to that fucking horrible Manchester band, I’m going to head down to Glasgow’s very own Grand Ole Opry for the night (50p for a vodka and coke, and as much line dancing as you can rattle your spurs at).
Actually, I’m being a little harsh; there’s some great live footage of early Ride, even if pretty-boy Mark Gardener now looks like that old guy in the corner of the pub, mumbling gibberish into the dregs of his flat pint. I can’t think of too many films that wouldn’t be improved if you shoe-horned five minutes of early Ride into the storyline, even if it may stretch credibility a little…
“What’s that, Skippy? There’s five minutes of early Ride footage trapped in the abandoned mine? What are we gonna do? Where’s My Bloody Valentine?”
My Bloody Valentine / Only Shallow