Yesterday we left you with the explosive Mika and his carnival-esque show filled to bursting with bunny rabbits, carousels, gigantic blow-up "Big Girls" and costumes worthy of Rio. He closed the second night of Spain's most International festival with a burst of confetti, and we stood in the crowd and watched the sparkles through hands raised high to the new King of modern Pop. Perhaps one of the most commercial acts this year, but after the intensity of My Bloody Valentine and old-school punking out to the New York Dolls it was just what FIB needed to pep themselves up and store up on Love and Lollipops for the next two nights.
Saturday morning saw us up bright and early for the Press v. Artists footie match and I managed to get on Canal 9 in my blissful ignorance as I casually sauntered between cameraman and presenter as they were live on air. My 15 seconds of fame perhaps? I got a good slap on the arm, literally, from the producer! The Paella looked tempting as always but PJ and I were hot, hungry and a tad hungover, plus, we didn't have an umbrella to shelter under in the long queue for grub. We lumbered up the hill to our favourite Chinese foodie in Benicassim, recalling last year when one of the regular customers kicked up a fuss because he couldn't have his normal order as he did every day all year. "What is this? Can a man eat or not? Four idiots come and sing for a day and a man can't get on with business as usual?"
After our Chinese we went for a quick siesta and hopped in the car to see the Ting Tings before I had a hissy fit. Which I did. One traffic jam later and I was nearly in tears as Great DJ could be heard across the car park. If only they had been scheduled early! PJ had to pull some pretty silly faces to stop me reaching tantrum level.
To chill me out, we saw the sun go down to the lovely Jose Gonzalez, whose dulcet folky tones relaxed us into a FIB lully, and as we looked around it was clear to remember why everyone comes back year after year. We have been on FIBLove watch, since PJ captured and then became obsessed with the perfect moment at La Casa Azul - an intimate moment for two FIBers as they kissed to the sweet happy sounds of Milky Way - and are on a mission to get the perfect FIBKiss on camera. The Love Tunnel, a human car wash between La Pista Pop (get your dancing shoes on here) and FIBClub is also on the love-hunt- couples are encouraged to go through the wash and get a key ring on the oother side. I've been told you don't get too wet but I'm not convinced. Yet. Maybe I'm just waiting for my own bit of FIBLove.
The Brian Johnson Massacre, five men from California, were the first to grace the Green Stage on this balmy Saturday night, but the air was as cool as they were as they rocked it out with songs from their new album My Bloody Underground. Decked out in a denim waistcoat, jeans and checked shirt, he couldn't have been more into the music, eyes closed, head back, arms in the air and warming up the crowd for later - more rock with My Morning Jacket, th Kills and the Raconteurs.
PJ already jumping about excitedly after seeing the members of Lori Meyers crammed into a tiny paddling pool and folding chairs around a beach umbrella being interviewed in the press tent. (On tarmac, not real sand, unfortunately.) was desperate to get in the front row for their set so we got there early for some geek-pop with Eef Barzelay who told us 1+1=3, so we decided that despite the glasses he maybe wasn't so clever after all. Looks can be deceiving.
For perhaps one of the only moments in the whole weekend, the tent is full of a mainly Spanish crowd for pop par excellence for the guys from Granada, Lori Meyers. The camera attached to the Vodafone hot air balloon flying above heads captures them all singing along to every single line and we become sure there is a small child inside there manning the controls. Sooo fast!
I leave PJ and our friends to dash to the Escenario Verde for the Kills.
More tomorrow.
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