infectiously chilled feeling to day one of Hard Rock Calling

Heading over to the press tent to collect my wristband, the first thing that greets me is the god-awful cacophony blaring out from an unseen location behind the fence. It SOUNDS a bit like an old Beatles song, but gone horribly, catastrophically wrong. A lump forms in my throat. Surely this isn't the calibre of music I should be expecting this weekend? As it turns out, it's actually a gang of keen-as-mustard punters propping up the Gaymers karaoke bar, in full swing at the modest hour of 3pm. Well, it is a Friday after all.

In truth, Hard Rock Calling (HRC) is something of a curio by festival standards. Pitched squarely at that slightly crustier, middle aged breed of music fan, over the past few years the weekend's line up has reflected a stubborn devotion to established rock legends, with less credence being paid to young people with money to burn, the lifeblood of most festivals. Even today, on the most obviously 'young' day of the festival, there's a conspicuous lack of wide-eyed whippersnappers, while thinning hairlines and threadbare t-shirts are out in force. It may seem counter-intuitive to follow this trajectory, but in terms of the Hard Rock brand it makes perfect sense, and there’s a healthy turnout for all three days.

The fact that there's no camping this weekend is similarly important; a fair chunk of those in attendance are day trippers, only there for one of the big three headliners, which brings a distinctly different vibe to proceedings. While I witness my fair share of drunken tomfoolery over the three days, there's an infectiously chilled feeling to HRC this year, at least outside the karaoke bar. With most people seemingly content with a comfy spot on the grass, a pint of warm cider and mild sunburn, there's a marked absence of the irritating rowdiness that sometimes blights full weekenders, and that's probably for the best.

Wandering between the different stages and the press area, soaking up some good sunshine, all in all it's a great first day. There's an atmosphere that makes it easy to float about and chat to people if the mood takes you.

For most of the day there's very little of the frantic crush that is part and parcel of getting a decent view at a festival like Reading. Things start picking up a bit more when the main support act, The Kooks, come on, though by this time I'm checking out Echo and the Bunnymen on the second stage. By the time the Killers come on there's a gorgeous sunset bathing the whole field, with the earlier threats of rain having completely disappeared. The headliners have certainly pulled in the crowd, making for an excellent, anthemic end to the first day.

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