Due to a hectic Saturday driving from Anstruther to Edinburgh to Glasgow and then back to Edinburgh and out again to Anstruther this is the last of the Haarfest video diaries.

I woke up with a proper fucking head on me, and went to sleep plastered at four or something after being ambushed by late night at the Smugglers on the way home.

Due to collecting Mrs. Toad from the station we ended up missing most of Meursault, although we did get there in time for a gorgeous version of Martin Kippenberger, helped greatly by Malcolm from eagleowl.  The Oates Field were good, and Withered Hand (new songs – NEW SONGS!) and FOUND (ditto!) were absolutely immense. And that beer they were serving all weekend, well…!

The hardcore of the inner Fence were on the bill tonight, as I once again utterly failed to take part in any of the more emotionally nourishing festivities (apart from drinking and watching bands of course).

The best I managed was a half-hearted wander through to Cellardyke to see the washing line art exhibition, robustly rearranged by someone who wanted to use that particular bit of line to hang up his smalls.

After that, food, beer and tunes. Predictable, but satisfying.

This is my video diary from the third day of the Fence Collective’s Haarfest 2010.

The power was so doubtful in morning that the people repairing it managed to shut down even more houses, so it wasn’t until about five or six that we were confident that the whole evening wouldn’t have to take place under steam or pedal power, but come back on it did, eventually, and things were able to proceed as normal.

The lineup switched around a bit, with eagleowl having to go on a little early because of babysitting commitments back in Edinburgh (yeah, rock ‘n’ roll, bitches!), so eventually Inspector Tapehead ended up headlining their own unofficial album launch at long last.

And it was a fucking beauuuutiful evening in Anstruther.

Well due to the power cut caused by excessive rawking of the alt-folk variety, I couldn’t even try and upload this video for most of the day, so it’s a miracle it’s here at all, really.  Still, it only takes me an hour and a half to edit these in the morning, but then about an hour to export and, due to limited internet connections, about four hours to upload, so I am guessing they are going to be posted quite late in the day irrespective of power cuts.

Last night a combination of Reporter’s ambient soundscapes and The Oates Field’s imminent appearance caused the National Grid to spontaneously disown Anstruther, leaving the festival to candlelight and acoustic cover versions.

After King Creosote and The Earlies did the bulk of the hard work, it eventually turned into an almost-campfire singalong.  Due to being in a church hall, lighting an actual fire seemed a little reckless so all the candles were placed in the middle of the floor and the guitar was passed around.  By this point I’d fucked off to the Smugglers to arrange a fishing trip, however…