just coughed so much I blacked out a little, too ill too stick it out.

Beaten but not sad.

Watch out for these notes to be beaten into sense and put up for Fused. Until then I'm sleeping the sleep of the damned. maybe getting up briefly tomorrow to make some toast of the damned and later have a nice hot shower of the damned.

Something like that.

I did wonder if I was going to catch the star of these, luckily they drum paraded around the festival and led us all into the stage where we greeted to a stage of distorted guitars and a circular space cleared in the middle for the drum corps.

a scottish piper with voodoo face paint pounding heavy metal rhythms. Shouting staccato grunts and orders like he was leading an army of the dead. could turn into a great standard metal sound, if there was less theatre and fewer drummers. Better than that. The drummers arnt miked at all, but the still cutting through the deep bass on stage.

three people took to the stage, two scruffy men and a small lady in fashionably baggy plantation trousers and black bangs.

The music is complex sample drum and synth sounds that build and weave with the raw gutair sounds made by the girl. She uses sticks, samplers and a viola bow to produce these sounds and is more likey to be banging it that strumming. Then the live drums kick in, hard, quick and loud. All of a sudden the hipster uncle that has been make the samples and synths sounds becomes a melody and the driving drums make it techno and hard techno, the sort I sent my twenties sweating to in small clubs.

It's a hobby of mine to watch drummers expressions while on stage, they're normally hilarious. From straight aggression to bewildered fear. Factory Floors drummer had a look of pure concentration that looked on his young furry face like a hampster performing heart surgery.

Still building, dramatic and loud, vaguely non-specific 'eastern/oriental' sounding, like a Indiana Jones soundtrack. Vocalist la la laing along, I'm sure its supposed to be haunting but he sounds a bit silly.

I'm sure they'll get good if it ever kicks in, but I want to catch the band on the other stage. Started twenty five minutes late and slow start, getting louder doesn't make anything more interesting frankly.

On stage now, throbbing bass pitch bobbing into the crowd, slight refrains of Sitar, waiting for it to build or kick in.

Dressed like dessert nomad car salesmen. Bathed in a blurring purple light.

Would there have been a way of automagically grabbing chunks of text, formatting to prescribed font and washing over a picture took from flickr tagged #supersonic?

They better be bloody good now, twenty minutes late and at one point I swear they were sound checking fucking cowbells. How big a part of your performance are the cowbells going to be that you need a tech to check them before you go on?

A lot of pointing in the dark, not sure whether they want their monitors turned up or if there's a Saturday Night Fever revival in the off. Mind you last year the MMOB were dressed as druids so nothing would surprise me.

Still setting up. There's a noticeable lack of flinching from the crowd when feedback tears out the speakers.

Sitar solo tune up.

Not bloody typing that again with cold hands on a tiny bloody smartphone keyboard.