The Festival Folk Pt.2

Words: Melly Neil | Illustrations: Jade Klara 

In the first instalment of The Festival Folk we introduced you to: The Selfie Queen, The Hater, The Older Person, The Organised One, The Mooch and The Hypebeast. Now here's six more individuals who deserve their own stage. 

The Phone Person

Not to be confused with the Selfie Queen, Phone Person is far less discerning. And say what you will of an Instagram stream that consists solely of selfies, but at least there’s a focus there. This person lives their entire festival experience via their phone, Snapchatting for The Hater to fuel his FOMO, or live-tweeting the event like they’re Barry bladdy Bateman... Why are they videoing the entire set? When would they ever go back and watch this shitty low light, vertically orientated, pixelated cellphone footage of a DJ set that’s obscured by The Tall Guy’s sweaty back? Oh it’s for YouTube is it? Thank you for sacrificing your festival experience, and the people around you, to rack up 26 views and a comment from The Hater.

The Has-Been DJ

Now just because his skill isn’t really a skill, and could be done by a security guard with a DJ app and a RCA cable, that doesn’t mean he isn’t entitled to feel a little slighted at not being included on this year’s lineup. You don’t get to tell someone else how to feel! It’s just that the damn organiser still hates him because he stole his girl, or maybe it’s his refusal to bring in any sort of performance element, because it should really be about the beats, man. Seriously, he’s got a fire mixtape that he’d share with you, but he’s all out of flash drives already so maybe just give him a follow on Soundcloud, m8?

Passed Out Guy

Don’t laugh - someone could’ve spiked his drink! What, all seventeen of them? Nah, this guy’s self-inflicted somnolence is always good for a laugh, and that’s why he deserves to get his face and torso tattooed with permanent marker. Or better yet, turn him into an art-installation using empty beer cans and cigarette stompies and then use him as a prop for The Selfie Queen to photograph herself with.

The Superfans

These girls are easy to spot. They’re the ones in the front row wearing matching band merch T-shirts and holding up a ‘Marry me, Pascal’ banner. The Super Fans bought their tickets as soon as the announcement was made that The Plastics would be playing, and have been waiting patiently in front of the stage since the gates opened. They refer to the band members by their full names and can tell you obscure trivia relating to their side-projects and the previous bands they've played in. These girls will inevitably spend the entire set dangling over the barrier, tongues lolling out and singing along word for word while trying to touch Emile’s hand. That is unless they’re busy threatening the bands' long-term girlfriends who are standing backstage, terrified.

The Lovers

It’s pretty weird how after watching years of porn seeing the real thing isn’t quite what you would’ve expected it to be. It’s actually kind of gross. That is what’s happening over there by the portaloos, right? The overly affectionate couple who have been sucking face for the last hour have now got to the point where their slobber has created what they think is an invisibility cloak, similar to the one certain motorists think they’re protected by when picking their nose in traffic, and are now taking that dance-like-nobody’s-watching mantra to heart, sliding from first to third as he slides his thumb... Wow. This is kind of like watching a car crash in slow motion, where you should look away but can’t. Except it’s not a car crash. It’s a hand-job. Between two portaloos. While the Selfie Queen snaps herself in the foreground throwing the twos and That Guy is humping an imaginary air torso…

The Tall Guy

How is it that no matter where you go or what you’re watching, you somehow always have a giant blocking your view? How has this person not learned from years of being told to stand at the back of school photographs that his spatial deformity makes it difficult for anyone else behind him to see anything? This is obviously different if you are The Tall Guy, and if that’s the case, kudos to you, sir. Enjoy the view! Just next time please try wearing a T-shirt with an interesting graphic on the back or some sort of visual offering for us poor schlubs who have to stare at it for ten songs and two encores.