The White Isle Rat
New Member
Who's all gonna be there!?
Cant wait to see Dubfire!
Cant wait to see Dubfire!
Slam Tent - T in the Park!
- Thread starter The White Isle Rat
- Start date
Malk
Active Member
I'll be there - can't wait for it this year, an absolute belter of a line up.
Saturday July 12
11.30am - 12.30pm the Black Dog(live)
12.30 - 2.00pm Dubfire
2.00pm - 3.30 pm Damian Lazarus
3.30pm - 4.30pm Model 500(live)
4.30pm - 6.00pm Carl Craig
6.00 pm - 7.00pm Dusty Kid(live)
7.00pm - 8.30pm Erol Alkan
8.30pm - 9.30pm Modeselektor(live)
9.30pm - 11.00pm Jeff Mills
Sunday July 13
11.30am - 1.00pm Rob Da Bank
1.00pm - 2.30 pm Michael Mayer
2.30 pm - 4.00 pm SLAM
4.00pm - 5.00pm Miss Kittin & The Hacker(live)
5.00pm - 6.30 pm Dj Hell
6.30 pm - 7.30 pm Justice(live)
7.30pm - 9.30pm Richie Hawtin
9.30 pm - 11.00pm Aphex Twin
Saturday July 12
11.30am - 12.30pm the Black Dog(live)
12.30 - 2.00pm Dubfire
2.00pm - 3.30 pm Damian Lazarus
3.30pm - 4.30pm Model 500(live)
4.30pm - 6.00pm Carl Craig
6.00 pm - 7.00pm Dusty Kid(live)
7.00pm - 8.30pm Erol Alkan
8.30pm - 9.30pm Modeselektor(live)
9.30pm - 11.00pm Jeff Mills
Sunday July 13
11.30am - 1.00pm Rob Da Bank
1.00pm - 2.30 pm Michael Mayer
2.30 pm - 4.00 pm SLAM
4.00pm - 5.00pm Miss Kittin & The Hacker(live)
5.00pm - 6.30 pm Dj Hell
6.30 pm - 7.30 pm Justice(live)
7.30pm - 9.30pm Richie Hawtin
9.30 pm - 11.00pm Aphex Twin
Doddy
Active Member
heading up Saturday .... Model 500 top of my SLAM Tent List, Juan Atkins live should be a treat!!! Dubfire before and maybe Carl Craig afterwards .....
Band wise im gonna try and catch MGMT, Reverend and the Makers, The Pogues, We are Scientists and undecided between Ian Brown and RATM at end ...theres always Jeff Mills
..... Alabama 3 should be good but ill see them at The Wickerman Festival in 2 weeks 
Sunday is belting in the Slam Tent!!! skinto for both days though
Band wise im gonna try and catch MGMT, Reverend and the Makers, The Pogues, We are Scientists and undecided between Ian Brown and RATM at end ...theres always Jeff Mills
..... Alabama 3 should be good but ill see them at The Wickerman Festival in 2 weeks Sunday is belting in the Slam Tent!!! skinto for both days though
CheekyChicken
New Member
Chemical Borothers on the Friday then Slammin it for the rest of the weekend, cannot wait!
Looks good especially Model 500 & Aphex Twin.
Seriously folks next year check http://www.life-festival.com/ i was there last weekend and it was undoubtely the best festival ive been to in Ireland, possibly the best underground non mainstream festival in Europe, absolutely brilliant, really friendly people and despite the dreadful weather had an absolute ball there, met people from all over the world there to party,only a smaller festival 6,000+ (i prefer it that way)highly recommended
Seriously folks next year check http://www.life-festival.com/ i was there last weekend and it was undoubtely the best festival ive been to in Ireland, possibly the best underground non mainstream festival in Europe, absolutely brilliant, really friendly people and despite the dreadful weather had an absolute ball there, met people from all over the world there to party,only a smaller festival 6,000+ (i prefer it that way)highly recommended
Doddy
Active Member
said that to my mates who are there on the sunday ....but they arent argueing about it since they get to see Hawtin then over to NME for The Prodigy 8)
Johnny Vodka
Well-Known Member
New band as far as I know. Oracular Spectacular is their debut album, I think.
Here's a blog from last year about my 2007 T in the park experience ...
T in the Park 2007
Last night was a strange one. My band had a gig at Stonehaven harbour for the folk festival up there, it went really well. So, amped up by that, and having had a severe case of the devil-horns all day, itchy footed I wheeled it, formula-one style, down the A90 to "T in the park" (nae ticket, naturally).
After parking in Kinross, crossing the motorway, and sneaking along the tyre tracks of a wheat field I arrived at the wall, a 12ft high solid barrier of heavy-duty aluminium panels, no sign of a toe hold. I had a look around for climbing aids and found a wooden fence post amongst some boulders and farm junk at the edge of the field. I propped it up and was about to climb over when, from out of nowhere I heard the urgent rasping of quad bikes. I grabbed my fence post and dived into the wheat but the quads were quick, I'd been rumbled. It turned out to be the pigs, four of the f**kers. They started shouting, aggresively. One of them dismounted and motioned towards my hidy-hole. "IF YOU DON'T COME OUT I'LL BE IN THERE TO KNOCK YOUR HEAD IN!!!" blasted this protector of the people with venom and vehemence. Liking my head I lept up and bolted into the field reasoning that they wouldn't bring the quads into the wheat and would be too slow to chase me on foot in their leather costumes. Thankfully I was right. As I got deeper into the field I turned aroud to see the more excitable pig gesticulating and shouting some muffled pish, the visor of his crash-helmet was still down. I kept moving anyway. They were obviously waiting until they could see that I was gone. When I had passed the brow of the rise I waited for a couple of minutes and listened. The four quads hurtled off, as if on a timer.
Confident that they had f**ked off I retraced my steps, placed my wooden post against the wall and climbed over. Landing cat-style I quickly realised that I also had a 6ft wire-mesh fence to hurdle. Negotiating this without further thought I made straight for the relative cover of the sea of tents. Again, there was shouting. Orange-clad-mongs were closing in on me from every direction, loads of them. I got low, weaving between tents in the limited time and space available. In desperation I ducked into an open tent. The two female occupants, though surprised at first, were quick to tell me to stop appologising and stay quiet as the door was zipped shut (nice lassies). The mongs were out there though, I could see the siloueted figure of one, through the thin fabric of the tent, pointing downwards. Seconds later the zip was hauled open. "GERROUT!!!" then filled the tent, accompanied by a large hairy hand. So, aided by the thing, I did. There must have been about ten of the f**kers out there, I was surrounded. The chunkiest one, chieftain of the mongs, twisted my wrists and bundled me, heavy-handedly, into a conveniently situated camping chair (thanks again, girls). An exchange of shouting then issued as the arm lock became tighter, my suggestion that he wasn't hugged as a child not helping greatly. As I realised I might be onto something I began to pity him. Angry, violent, and over excited, an ape with a gun (well, a flouro orange jacket) and more muscle on his forehead than fire behind it. He reminded me of Sloth from The Goonies, poor bastard. I was held there until the more sophisticated mongs in black uniforms were brought to search me for weapons and drugs. The guy who searched me was reasonable, as authoritarian drones go. He found my three pre-rolled reefers in the front pocket of my hoody, quietly asked if it was grass, then assured me "it's cool"... whilst taking them. I was then put into the back of a 4wd with more orange mongs and some loud shoeless drunken degenerate who seemed to be really happy of my company, advising me that he had "only just tried to shag some c**ts wife" amongst other bile. After a bumpy ride to a side gate I was then led out of T in the park by the guy who took my reefers. Surprisingly he gave two of them back and winked, keeping one "for later". The bile guy was given a helping shove and my parting glance saw him on his side in the sludgy mud, still cursing and arguing.
Time was getting on. I decided to go to a different part of the fence and try again when it was dark and the campsite was filling up with people. I would crash out in someones tent and try the main gate the next day, or so I reckoned. Moving eastwards, back from the fence, I found a stack of hay-bales behind the cover of some trees, four high, so tall enough to see into the campsite. I climbed up, sparked a reefer (don't do this at home, kids), sat back, and waited. Texts came and went as my mate Kev tracked my movements. He was in the Slam tent getting down to Green Velvet. I could hear it from my lofty couch. I actually heard the roar go up as "Lala land" banged in with its electro-tech vigour. It was a lovely night, I was getting comfy as the days events unfolded in my thoughts. The fading light softened the surrounding hills, basslines from the Slam tent fluctuated on shifting air, fireworks issued from the campsite as orange mongs homed in on their moving source, zoned in and zoned out revellers in various states of calamity came and went by the adjacent road. the whole scenario was priceless. The killer blow came with the munchies, my one-way train to oblivion. I got to thinking that I could be back in Edinburgh in an hour. Cafe Piccante would still be open, I could get a pizza, and a warm cosy bed! ... oops! ... Game over.
The urge for pizza, a good sleep, and the prospect of drinking tea in the morning had overwhelmed me. I walked the half-hour or so back to my car then headed south, to the capital, mind buzzing. I toyed with the idea that I'd failed but came to accept what was a truly entertaining experience. F**k it, I got a good story out of it, atleast. Back in Edinburgh, Broughton street was scattered with bug-eyed clubbers, loud girls, and Ben Sherman-wearing drunks. Cafe Piccante was banging (it's the chippy with the DJ and the optics), the pizza was great, the sleep was deep, and the kettle is boiling as I write.
I might try again next year, hehe!
T in the Park 2007
Last night was a strange one. My band had a gig at Stonehaven harbour for the folk festival up there, it went really well. So, amped up by that, and having had a severe case of the devil-horns all day, itchy footed I wheeled it, formula-one style, down the A90 to "T in the park" (nae ticket, naturally).
After parking in Kinross, crossing the motorway, and sneaking along the tyre tracks of a wheat field I arrived at the wall, a 12ft high solid barrier of heavy-duty aluminium panels, no sign of a toe hold. I had a look around for climbing aids and found a wooden fence post amongst some boulders and farm junk at the edge of the field. I propped it up and was about to climb over when, from out of nowhere I heard the urgent rasping of quad bikes. I grabbed my fence post and dived into the wheat but the quads were quick, I'd been rumbled. It turned out to be the pigs, four of the f**kers. They started shouting, aggresively. One of them dismounted and motioned towards my hidy-hole. "IF YOU DON'T COME OUT I'LL BE IN THERE TO KNOCK YOUR HEAD IN!!!" blasted this protector of the people with venom and vehemence. Liking my head I lept up and bolted into the field reasoning that they wouldn't bring the quads into the wheat and would be too slow to chase me on foot in their leather costumes. Thankfully I was right. As I got deeper into the field I turned aroud to see the more excitable pig gesticulating and shouting some muffled pish, the visor of his crash-helmet was still down. I kept moving anyway. They were obviously waiting until they could see that I was gone. When I had passed the brow of the rise I waited for a couple of minutes and listened. The four quads hurtled off, as if on a timer.
Confident that they had f**ked off I retraced my steps, placed my wooden post against the wall and climbed over. Landing cat-style I quickly realised that I also had a 6ft wire-mesh fence to hurdle. Negotiating this without further thought I made straight for the relative cover of the sea of tents. Again, there was shouting. Orange-clad-mongs were closing in on me from every direction, loads of them. I got low, weaving between tents in the limited time and space available. In desperation I ducked into an open tent. The two female occupants, though surprised at first, were quick to tell me to stop appologising and stay quiet as the door was zipped shut (nice lassies). The mongs were out there though, I could see the siloueted figure of one, through the thin fabric of the tent, pointing downwards. Seconds later the zip was hauled open. "GERROUT!!!" then filled the tent, accompanied by a large hairy hand. So, aided by the thing, I did. There must have been about ten of the f**kers out there, I was surrounded. The chunkiest one, chieftain of the mongs, twisted my wrists and bundled me, heavy-handedly, into a conveniently situated camping chair (thanks again, girls). An exchange of shouting then issued as the arm lock became tighter, my suggestion that he wasn't hugged as a child not helping greatly. As I realised I might be onto something I began to pity him. Angry, violent, and over excited, an ape with a gun (well, a flouro orange jacket) and more muscle on his forehead than fire behind it. He reminded me of Sloth from The Goonies, poor bastard. I was held there until the more sophisticated mongs in black uniforms were brought to search me for weapons and drugs. The guy who searched me was reasonable, as authoritarian drones go. He found my three pre-rolled reefers in the front pocket of my hoody, quietly asked if it was grass, then assured me "it's cool"... whilst taking them. I was then put into the back of a 4wd with more orange mongs and some loud shoeless drunken degenerate who seemed to be really happy of my company, advising me that he had "only just tried to shag some c**ts wife" amongst other bile. After a bumpy ride to a side gate I was then led out of T in the park by the guy who took my reefers. Surprisingly he gave two of them back and winked, keeping one "for later". The bile guy was given a helping shove and my parting glance saw him on his side in the sludgy mud, still cursing and arguing.
Time was getting on. I decided to go to a different part of the fence and try again when it was dark and the campsite was filling up with people. I would crash out in someones tent and try the main gate the next day, or so I reckoned. Moving eastwards, back from the fence, I found a stack of hay-bales behind the cover of some trees, four high, so tall enough to see into the campsite. I climbed up, sparked a reefer (don't do this at home, kids), sat back, and waited. Texts came and went as my mate Kev tracked my movements. He was in the Slam tent getting down to Green Velvet. I could hear it from my lofty couch. I actually heard the roar go up as "Lala land" banged in with its electro-tech vigour. It was a lovely night, I was getting comfy as the days events unfolded in my thoughts. The fading light softened the surrounding hills, basslines from the Slam tent fluctuated on shifting air, fireworks issued from the campsite as orange mongs homed in on their moving source, zoned in and zoned out revellers in various states of calamity came and went by the adjacent road. the whole scenario was priceless. The killer blow came with the munchies, my one-way train to oblivion. I got to thinking that I could be back in Edinburgh in an hour. Cafe Piccante would still be open, I could get a pizza, and a warm cosy bed! ... oops! ... Game over.
The urge for pizza, a good sleep, and the prospect of drinking tea in the morning had overwhelmed me. I walked the half-hour or so back to my car then headed south, to the capital, mind buzzing. I toyed with the idea that I'd failed but came to accept what was a truly entertaining experience. F**k it, I got a good story out of it, atleast. Back in Edinburgh, Broughton street was scattered with bug-eyed clubbers, loud girls, and Ben Sherman-wearing drunks. Cafe Piccante was banging (it's the chippy with the DJ and the optics), the pizza was great, the sleep was deep, and the kettle is boiling as I write.
I might try again next year, hehe!
macdonsj
Moderator
one of the best TITP moments
few years back
me and the brother-in-law decide we want to see Groove Armada live
Slam Tent is filling up - they are closing various entrances
we run over, pints in hand and leap over a downed fence
then slip under the tent side wall as someone lowers it
pop up in a very full tent, just as the entrances are closed
and still have the pint in hand!
few years back
me and the brother-in-law decide we want to see Groove Armada live
Slam Tent is filling up - they are closing various entrances
we run over, pints in hand and leap over a downed fence
then slip under the tent side wall as someone lowers it
pop up in a very full tent, just as the entrances are closed
and still have the pint in hand!
BARTONIOUS
New Member
Last edited by a moderator:
Doddy
Active Member
All those going to T enjoy the rain!!
im only there for the day so who cares if it rains or not!!! the campsite is horrendous right enough after a good soaking