|Fifty years young|
Fast forward to Latitude 2017 and it was impossible to get to see the stage where the Killers were obviously killing it. So I went with instinct and turned up to see an act called Trojan Sound System. Except there were only four of us in the tent. There were 40,000 watching the Killers. But soon the reggae started and three guys came to the microphones and started. Ten minutes later the tent had gone from four punters to 400.
I'd stumbled again. My plans to go back to the Killers were scuppered as these guys put on such a great show to celebrate 50 years of the Trojan record label. Wikipedia says: 'Trojan was instrumental in introducing reggae to a global audience and by 1970 had secured a series of major UK chart hits.'
I think you had to be of a certain age because when they played Night Nurse by Gregory Isaacs - and the three singers did their own interpretation - we all knew all the words and the little tent was heaving with nostalgia. And then the same happened with Dawn Penn's No, No, No. I had such a fantastic time, all on my own.
In 2000 I bought a few Trojan box sets and remember, all that summer, only listening to reggae, to the exclusion of everything else. I love some of the songs that the box sets introduced me to, for instance, Bangarang by Lester Sterling and Stranger Cole.
But back to the gig and the Dad dancing was pretty bad. I include myself in this because I'm no dancer at the best of times; but when attempting to bop to the Trojan beat...well I'm glad that people were using their phones to video the Killers and not us. Yet it didn't matter. A man near me, probably in his late 60s, was doing a very-unreggae-ish Highland Fling. And the really cool security guard who came along and made all the right movements (He was younger but I suspect that he was feeling nostalgia for his parents' record collection) - he didn't care we couldn't move right.
The lead singer kept getting the DJ to stop and wind the records back to the start because he wanted to keep telling us that there was love in the tent, on the anniversary of Trojan's birth. And it's made me want to listen to lots more reggae. Who knows: perhaps I'll spend the rest of the summer listening to only reggae.
I'm excited about the next time the Killers headline a festival. I'd love to see them, but suspect I might get distracted by something more intimate and memorable that I stumble across.