A slightly over-zealous friend has insisted on us setting up camp in the main enclosure from around half past two.
Turns out, as the hour grew near, texts started flying in about the queue stretching quite the distance. So, good work, Gilly.
Andy H prepped the crowd with a fine-ass selection of golden age hip hop, accompanied by Chuck Chillout on hype-man duties, which must have been a pleasant experience for him. It was certainly pretty sweet from where we were stood.
When PE themselves exploded onto the stage, to what looked like most of Sheffield’s populace, all was right with the world. The sun shone heartily, they know we want the hits, and—it transpires—Flav can play the bass a bit. As a low end man myself, I almost popped a boner at his point.
The moon and stars really aligned for this one – if you weren’t there, you won’t know, but those that represented bore witness to probably one of the finest gigs ever been performed round these parts. What’s up with that brother Chuckie D? The brother don’t swear he’s nice – he knows he’s nice.
Review by Hal Walker
Pic by Duncan Stafford