The night before Factory's appearance at the festival we were playing in Burton-on-Trent. We'd been warned of a heavy police presence so we ensured we were 'clean' on the trip down in the morning. However, we picked up a couple of hitchers bound for Windsor too and they were by no means 'clean'!
We dropped these guys off before the entrance and the van was duly searched by the D.S. (drug squad). After some raised eyebrows at torn-up Rizla packets they let us through.
Before finding our stage, I asked a 'guide' where I could find some herbal medicine for a yearning I had, and he directed me to an ice-cream van. "Which one?" I asked. "The one that says 'freshly made for you' and has a big queue!"
our stage and as we were getting tooled up an announcer was speaking to
the crowd: "....and before I introduce the next band, I'd like to
inform you that the guy over there in the pressed jeans and the 'Drink
Fresh Milk " T-shirt is D.S. Feel free to greet him!" They did - with
rotten fruit and other missiles.
Factory's set was well received despite the fact that the ice-cream van's generator that powered us was not man enough for Andy's Hammond Organ motor. It was consequently out of tune and we had to manage without it.
We stayed for the evening show and I sat down to watch the wondrous Gong. As Steve Hillage was playing alone on the stage, gazing up at the stars, a young lady infront of me leant back on my knees. I gradually parted said knees and we became friends! We enjoyed the rest of Gong's show, sharing herbal cigarettes and eventually her sleeping bag.
We woke next morning, said our goodbyes, and when I eventually found the rest of the band we set off for that night's gig.
Not long after that, the already strained relationship between the festival-goers and the police finally broke down. There was the well documented punch-up. Someone later suggested I'd missed all the fun. I replied, "I didn't!"