((hi guys I wrote a thing n_n sorry for lack of read more, just scroll or you can read it if you want!)) BROUGH FAKE FESTIVAL REVIEW (Blackburn Leisure Club, Saturday 11th May 2013) As any gig-goer will tell you, nearly being kicked out of the venue before you've even got out of the car is a sure sign it's going to to be a good one. Drinking in the car park, we're told, is not allowed at Brough Fake Festival due alleged "trouble" caused by the locals. The solution to this, obviously, is to hastily down our WKD Blues in one, whilst slid far enough down in the car seat that we won't be caught by the fuzz (well, traffic attendant). Now that's rock'n'roll. We're here, after all, to experience all the excitement of a three-day festival in one day, and in one marquee in Blackburn Leisure Club, so it might start to seem quite reasonable to triple one's alcohol consumption. The impressively large crowd certainly seem quite refreshed, as many of them are already sporting face paint and waving inflatable hammers from the kid-friendly stalls outside, and the cynical comment would be that of course one must be suitably drunk to believe that the not-terribly-imaginatively-named Kings Of Lyon, Coldplace and Oasish are the real deal. But I think this attitude misses the point somewhat, as this is not Stars In Their Eyes. It's surely more important that tonight's headliners can show us a good time, rather than being able to pass for long-lost relatives of the Gallaghers/Followills/er, Coldplays? Not to undersell any of the bands on this score, though; when Kings of Lyon kick things off, after a raft of local cover bands earlier in the day, their frontman manages a pretty decent approximation of Caleb Followill's Southern drawl. They plough enthusiastically through the highlights of KOL's back catalogue, album tracks 'Be Somebody' and 'Knocked Up' going down as well as hits like 'On Call' and 'Radioactive'. Although at this early slot (6.45 start) some people are still coming and going, and others are distracted by having found Wally (there's a group of individuals all wearing the trademark stripy jumper and hat. One could ask why, but why indeed not?) failsafe festival favourites 'Use Somebody' and 'Sex On Fire' provide massive singalongs, and raucous older songs 'Four Kicks', 'Molly's Chambers' and the closing 'Red Morning Light' manage to get even the people at the back enthusiastically pogoing. Consider us well and truly warmed up, and thankfully no errant pigeons were involved. Now for something completely (or at least somewhat) different: Coldplay tribute Coldplace faithfully recreate the band's latest tour set-up, with neon rainbow lights and 'Mylo Xyloto' lyrics scrawled across everything. It's a pretty magnificent sight for a tent in Brough, and luckily the songs aren't bad either; delicate anthems 'Fix You' and 'The Scientist' provide an epic karaoke session, and batting around the enormous balloon that descends during 'Yellow' (it's yellow, do you see what they did there?) might just be the highlight of the night. Tragically, it pops before we turn into overexcited kittens, but the euphoric 'Paradise' and 'Princess Of China', with the crowd gamely filling in for Rihanna, more than make up for it. No such bells and whistles for Oasish, but they don't need it: from the minute "Liam Gallagher" (with parka, haircut, sunglasses and swagger; if you squint, or are just very drunk, you might swear it was he) swaggers onto the stage, everyone here is definitely, as they used to say, mad for it. This is a set of wall-to-wall anthems - 'Supersonic', 'Live Forever', 'Wonderwall', even 'Happy Birthday' when we're invited to serenade the band's drummer - and every song is a scream-into-your-mate's-face singalong. "Noel" (less convincing, but nobody cares by this point, if they ever did) gets a turn in the spotlight too, for 'Little By Little', 'Half The World Away' and a predictably magnificent 'Don't Look Back In Anger'. As the final notes of 'Cigarettes & Alcohol' ring out and the party draws to a close, it's hard to imagine a better way to end it. It's sometime after, when my throat is hoarse and my ears are still ringing, I consider that the success of Fake Festivals could well be because the bands aren't being genuine stadium-fillers, rather than despite it. There's no ego, no separation from the audience and no danger of a surprise set of acoustic b-sides; all these tributes seem genuinely to want to give people a good time and an opportunity to jump around to songs they know and love. Even better than the real thing? Maybe not quite, but if tonight is any indication: no less fun.