We spent yesterday at London’s Lovebox festival watching Florence and the Machine, Gang of Four and Duran Duran, amongst others.
This seemed to be one of those festivals fuelled by alcohol rather than drugs, so there were lots of young men swaggering about shirtless, slurring and falling over.
Sadly, the booze options were limited to Tuborg in tins, Gaymers cider in paper cups, or a generic product simply called “BEER” served from back-mounted kegs by roving salespeople. We eventually worked out that it was Carlsberg.
Surely there must be some way to combine this kind of thing with the Great British Beer Festival? One’s got soul but no beer; the other has beer but no soul.