So here I am, in the promised land of Derbyshire. It’s almost 7:30 in the evening, and the noise coming from the stage welcomes me as I get down the steam train. There’s a small queue waiting to get in and I join it. Pete B, Rocker and Colm, go through the express lane, the band members queue, and I go through the slow not so special people queue. I had already paid in advance for my ticket, many months ago, so it was just matter of telling them my name. They don’t need an ID, which in these times it’s nice to know people believe in one’s honesty. As I’m leaving the counter with my Indietracks schedule/fanzine, they stop me. They say I have to pay for it, 2 pounds. I politely return it. I thought it was included with the festival ticket. I think it should be. All of this information was online, I had it printed. Sure this zine looked nicer, but for 2 pounds I can have a beer and my ugly printouts.

Anyways, now I’m walking by myself, with a big box of 7″s that I’m supposed to sell somewhere and someday during the festival. Beforehand Mr. Jervis had already sent spreadsheets with the schedules for when the bands will be able to sell their stuff, but not for when the labels were supposed to do so. I wasn’t sure when was I intended to sell them then, and especially because this year they had agreed that everyone who was selling records had to be behind the counter for at least 1 hour. I didn’t know when was my turn, and I wasn’t really looking forward to know that either. I was a bit annoyed carrying around the heavy box, holding fifty five 7″ records, with no certain direction, when I see Maria, now a volunteer for Indietracks. Great! Maria is here to save me! But she doesn’t have a clue.

I met Maria earlier this year, at London Popfest. She was one of the few Spanish speakers in the festival along with the guys from Aplasta tus Gafas de Pasta. It was nice to chat with her then, and then I stumbled upon her at Rough Trade, at another gig after Popfest and at the underground escalators. And she was always sweet. This time at Indietracks it was no exception. Even though she didn’t know anything about selling records or merchandise at  the festival, she went around asking trying to help. She asked the moronic Dan to see if he could help but of course she didn’t get any positive answers. “Let’s leave them backstage for now” she said. That was a good idea. So she took me to a small and cold room next to the shed, where guitars and drumsets were piling. Then there was even another room inside this one. A room within a room. Behind the big corroded door, there was nothing. Just a couple of empty shelves. I left my box there hoping they will be safe until the next day when Mr. Jervis arrives. As I was leaving the backstage room, Ronnie and Chris from The Orchids were walking it. It was nice to see them again after meeting in NYC Popfest just a couple of months before.

The evening was to continue in this same fashion, meeting old friends and new friends. Veronica Falls were playing their last songs when I approached the main stage to find Jennifer and Martin. There was Elisabeth too, making me faces. At that moment I get to meet my Spanish friends Cristóbal, Madidi, Javi and Alex. I know them online for years, since I was doing my Spanish language blog, probably in 2004. Cristóbal I know from soulseek, perhaps from 2002 or 2003. So many years, and now, for the first time I get to meet. They are great, and we make jokes and take photographs. Javi doesn’t believe me that I don’t like Veronica Falls. What can I do? I don’t get them. He says it’s been such a great gig. I had seen them three times now, and still not impressed. I can say they are one of the best looking bands around though, if that helps. Probably they’ll get big. I think they lack “romanticism”.

Also in the crowd is the great Mark Freeth, who has now joined the Spanish Armada from the Premier Inn. Nana and Andreas, fresh from their supermarket experience, also show up a bit late to the festival. We head to the bar, it’s time for beer. The distance from the main stage to the shed, where the bar is, shouldn’t take more than three minutes to walk. But it took us, no kidding, twenty five. Every four steps we were stopped by friends to say hello and talk for a bit. Isn’t that beautiful? On this trip to the bar the highlight was meeting Danielle and Stefan. Why haven’t I met them before I thought? They are just the kind of people that make the indiepop community worth it. I like them a lot.

Eventually we got to the bar, and to our despair, this was going to start our hate relationship with the warm beer they served. It all went to the point when we had to ask a glass with ice to cool it down. What’s the deal of drinking beer as if it was soup?

The night was dawning, and we kept on gossiping and drinking beer; I’m afraid I missed the next two bands while doing so. On another trip to the bar, over that sandy and muddy path, I met Kajsa, wearing her detective cloak, and invited her a beer. Then while talking about how Swedish people dress we notice that all of our friends are in that carriage in front of us, next to the shed. Let’s go! How did everyone ended up there? It was a bit cold outside perhaps, and most of us didn’t have coats or jackets. I didn’t bring any at all to the UK this time. It’s summer I thought. This is one of the nicest memories I have from the festival, the whole gang in the carriage, making silly videos and taking awkward photos. Emelie telling for the hundredth time the story about mouchak, Christin running away from the camera, meeting Tim for the first time, Jennifer having no beer, Anders speaking some sort of Swedish that I couldn’t pick up but the Swedes could, and Eli who still kept making faces to me.

When we got out of the carriage, the music was already over, and everyone was going to start heading to the discos or back to their hostels. Just outside the disco tent I met with Brian from The Understudies and he introduces me the rest of the band for the first time. I had already met Brian last March at a How Does it Feel dance party where he impressed me with his dancing skills, which still makes me wonder if the rest of the band can come close to his talents when it comes to dancing. The rest of the band seemed very nice, I joked with them and told them that it was a shame that are not playing this year. I’m not sure but later, when it felt as if they were avoiding to say hello again, I got the feeling the rest of the band weren’t that happy to have met me. Was it because I had too many beers and talked lots or maybe because it was too much for them to kiss the band’s only girl on the hand? Which I did, because it thought it was a nice detail. According to Wikipedia it is a gesture of extreme politeness. And I’m the epitome of politeness of course. Didn’t you know that?

As the clock approached one o’clock Jennifer got all of us, Travelodge guests, and said that it was time to go, that the last train was leaving. This was the first time that I was going to feel this recurrent void inside of me. I didn’t want to leave. I just want to stay for a while…

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Listen
The Baskervilles – Staying There for a While